#RIGHT when i was slowly getting back into everything

[avelera]

Analysis: Why Jayce broke up with Mel in Arcane 2.08

Since the finale episodes of Arcane dropped this morning, I've been going back and re-watching some of my favorite scenes, and I was struck by Jayce breaking up with Mel.

First of all, yeah, he clearly does break up with her, though I missed how formally he does so on my first watch-through. He does it in the Council chamber, just before Viktor attacks. But since they get interrupted, he finishes breaking up with her (after checking in with her) on the balcony later.

But what really struck me about the breakup wasn't in those scenes, but actually back in 2.07, when Jayce is alone in cavern in the darkest timeline. I definitely didn't catch on the first viewing that this is where he chose to break up with her.

In the background, you can hear Jayce in the depths of his despair and solitude starts going over in his mind all the steps that led him to where he is.

Here are some of the quotes he hears:

"I never asked for this!" - Himself to Viktor, trying to justify his actions up to that point just before Viktor leaves him.

"This research is everything, my whole life," a quote from one of his first conversations with Viktor but, more importantly, it establishes Jayce's entire raison d'etre up to that point. Hextech research was his life.

"He was my mentor, Mel, and I betrayed him," obviously is Jayce discussing the coup d'etat against Heimerdinger he orchestrated to save Viktor, but it was with Mel's assistance and urging.

"You must destroy it. It corrupts. Consumes." A quote from Heimerdinger, warning against Hextech. Which must feel especially prescient now that Jayce is stuff in the evil bombed-out future where Hextech destroyed the world.

"I was trying to create magic." Jayce to the Council to defend his Hextech research and save himself from banishment, but, he only mentioned magic at Mel's goading, which I would guess he's beginning to recognize now for what it was in retrospect.

"It's your time now, Jayce." Mel, part of her goading of Jayce into advancing Hextech research and his political career.

"Perhaps it's time for the era of magic." Mel's words on the night she saw Hextech for the first time, after helping Jayce and Viktor break into Heimerdinger's lab.

"You must destroy it." Heimerdinger about the Hexcore, again, probably feeling pretty prescient right now with Jayce literally in the pit of despair in a the evil Hextech future.

Finally, while looking out over the fire while clearly going nearly insane from the isolation, Jayce begins to hallucinate seeing Mel. But then, her image in the fire gives way to Viktor's.

The decision has been made there. It's not just Jayce reflecting on his two closest loved ones (as I thought the first time), rather, it is the moment Jayce makes his decision: he is picking Viktor over Mel. He has decided that the reason he is here in this terrible place is because of Mel, not Viktor. He is choosing his partner, going back to what they had before she became involved in their life. His new course is set.

Now, I want to preface the next part by saying I love Mel, she's a fascinating character, and though I ship Jayvik I also ship/shipped MelJayVik, so this isn't coming from a place of bias. I'm just analyzing the material when I say these flashbacks were Jayce rearranging the narrative in his head and realizing Mel's been manipulating and goading him in his pursuit of Hextech.

Given where he is when this is happening: starving, freezing, in pain, alone for weeks if not months in a stone box, slowly going insane, surrounded by the burnt corpses of people destroyed by Hextech, I'd say... yeah. His need for someone to blame is pretty understandable. He even starts whispering, "No!" in a panic at the memories in response to what she says in his mind.

So when we get to the Council chamber in the main timeline in 2.08, I'd argue that Jayce is spoiling for a fight. He's had months of agony to decide things are over with Mel and that he's angry at her. He wants to blame her for what happened to Viktor, for what happened to him, and he's in pain and he wants to lash out. The relationship is definitely over.

But then Mel is in pain too. And Viktor shows up, with his own autonomy, showing that they all had their shitty parts to play in this drama.

The attack by Viktor adds another element, Jayce was probably also mourning that he had to shoot Viktor at that point, another thing that was painful and made him want to lash out and blame others for this horrible place he's in emotionally and the horrific place he's been in physically until recently.

It's only after Viktor's attack though that Jayce realizes that this situation is complex, it's not all Mel's fault. It would be easier to just pin all the blame on Mel and make Jayce and Viktor her victims, but Viktor shows to him that he has his own agency and Jayce needs to be clear-eyed going forward about who he is saving, because it's not "Mel's victim". Viktor is his own person.

Jayce also remembers some of the care he once had for Mel when he catches her before she falls (in a tender moment I mistook for a full reconciliation between them the first time but no, it's just him remembering he cares for her wellbeing). Jayce can't trust her anymore, after realizing just how adept she was at manipulating him without his realizing, but he does still care for her as a person. And he's cooled off enough to address the pain she is clearly carrying.

(I admit, I do love this moment of him calling himself an ass, because I adore Jayce but it's a lovely beat of self awareness and really shows his growth as a person that he can say this to someone that just hours before he was squaring up to fight against and blame for all his misfortunes.)

But anyway, the moments you really see that it's over between Mel and Jayce:

When he doesn't explain to her what happened to him. That's not for her to know anymore. He's decided that they're not together or intimate anymore. And he's probably still hurting from realizing how she's used what he told her in the past to encourage/manipulate him to her own ends and therefore wary of sharing. This is also a reason for the breakup: he can't share the immense pain he's been in because he can't trust her anymore, and he knows it. It's over.

In the scene on the balcony when he turns away from her instead of towards her before offering his advice. Jayce is very touchy-feely, he always offers physical comfort to his loved ones. But there, he deliberately turns away instead of taking her in his arms and comforting her. Again: it's over between them. But he still respects her. So he reminds her of how indomitable she is, along with offering the slight backhanded compliment born of his distrust for her: she's never the passenger, she is always the one in control. He knows, because he's realized she used to control him.

I've mentioned in other meta that this season deals in a lot of comeuppance for events in S1, and this is arguably Mel's. She'll be ok, she's got magical sun powers and she's the head of a powerful house now. But she doesn't get to keep Jayce in her life as her lover anymore after what she did, because she did manipulate him, even if she had good intentions mixed with the self-interested ones.

The trust is simply gone now. But he cares for her and wishes her well, so, I'd argue they parted on as good of terms as could be done.

[fastandcarlos]

Victim Of A Bad Day : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

summary: after what can only be described as a nightmare of a day, oscar ends up coming home only to take it all out on you

Your smile was soft as Oscar walked through the apartment, putting your phone down and rising to your feet. You went over to him, holding your arms out, but Oscar’s head shook back at you. 

“Please, no,” he told you, walking straight past you through the living room and into the kitchen. 

You turned around as you watched Oscar walk away, debating what to do next. You slowly followed behind as you watched him grab a glass from out of the cupboard and fill it with water. Every movement was done with a sigh, thudding around the place like a toddler running around. 

“I’m guessing your day could’ve been better?” You asked, trying to bring a smile to his face. 

You stood and waited for Oscar to acknowledge you, but instead he carried on walking around. His head was down as he moved, his eyes not even looking across in your direction, as if you weren’t there. 

“Oscar, you know I’m here for you,” you told him, beginning to get concerned with his behaviour. It was unlike Oscar to be so quiet, to close off from you and deal with everything all by himself. 

A shrug came from Oscar as he walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, throwing himself down on the sofa. He grabbed his phone, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table, almost groaning when he noticed that you had followed right behind him. 

“So, we’ll just spend our evening in silence, shall we?” You asked, perching on the end of the sofa. 

“Suits me,” Oscar bluntly responded, still staring down at his phone, ignoring the sigh that came from across the room from you. 

Your head shook in disbelief at how cold Oscar was, never had you seen this side of him before. “I don’t know what’s happened today Oscar, but you could try and at least treat me with even the smallest bit of dignity tonight.” 

“Just leave me alone,” Oscar requested, throwing his arms up into the air. “Just because I’ve not come home and thrown my arms around you and talked your ear off doesn’t mean I need constant questions. Just take the hint and give me a bit of space.” 

Your body tensed up at how loud Oscar’s voice was, not quite sure how to react. “You’re not you Oscar, what would you like me to do? Pretend that everything is fine? I didn’t realise that caring about you was such a crime, next time I won’t bother worrying about you.” 

“I don’t need caring for, I haven’t asked you too,” Oscar replied. 

Your eyes widened in surprise at what Oscar had to say, stunned by how blunt he was. Perhaps you had been a little overbearing, but all you were guilty of was worrying about him.  

“That’s fine then,” you told Oscar, picking up your phone and sitting opposite him. You sat back, stretching out across the sofa, deciding to switch off to the fact that Oscar was even in the room. 

His eyes watched you though, shaking his head as you mimicked him. “I don’t ever remember asking for someone to worry about me, you know I’ve survived long enough all by myself.” 

Your heart ached as Oscar spoke, the hurt clear on your face as your eyes flickered across to Oscar. As he met your eyes, Oscar’s frustration disappeared, replaced by concern that he was the reason for your disappointment.  

“I don’t even know what to say,” you shrugged, shaking your head disapprovingly, full of despair. Rising to your feet, Oscar kept an eye on you as you left the room and went into your bedroom. 

Time apart was exactly what the two of you needed as you let the events sink in. You were both full of anger and upset, unable to believe that the two of you could ever have such an argument. It was unlike any other disagreement that you’d had with Oscar, leaving you rather shellshocked as you laid down on your bed. 

You found yourself staring up at the ceiling as you replayed the argument again and again in your head. A shiver ran down your spine each time you heard Oscar’s voice in your head, the resentment and annoyance so clear, somehow you being the reason for it too. 

After a while, you could hear Oscar moving through the apartment, knowing exactly where he was heading. You picked up your phone to make yourself look busy as the bedroom door opened, with Oscar quietly walking in, sitting on the end of the bed. 

You didn’t respond as Oscar turned to face you, laying himself down beside you. His hand rested against your stomach as he tried to get your attention, knowing that he had plenty of making up to do. 

“I’m sorry,” Oscar murmured, “the way I behaved then was completely unreasonable and out of order.” 

You placed your phone down, brows knitting together as you glanced across at Oscar. His heart sunk as he saw how upset you still were, guilt eating away at him knowing it was all his fault. 

“I don’t want to hear it.” 

“Please,” Oscar sighed, expecting you to dismiss him. “I shouldn’t have said what I said, I know that you care so much, and that’s one of my favourite things about you. Having you take care of me is the best feeling in the world, I don’t know what I’d do without you around to support me.” 

As your body turned slightly to face Oscar, you could see a faint smile on his face. Knowing that you were at least listening to him was a start for Oscar, hardly expecting you to fall into his arms and forgive him as quick as a flash, but at least it was a sign. 

“I don’t care how bad your day is Oscar; I don’t expect to be spoken to like that. I was only caring, and maybe I was a little too much, but if you’d have just told me that you needed space then I would’ve known what you needed from me, rather than just being shouted at.” 

“I was stupid,” Oscar told you, “there’s no explanation for it, bad day or not.” 

You could see the effects of the day in Oscar’s eyes, there was barely any colour there, letting you know just how bad of a day he must’ve had. 

“Everyone has good days and bad days,” you whispered, “including me, but yours are not my fault. I don’t want you to shut me out Oscar, I want to be able to help you, even if there’s very little I can do, at least it’s something.” 

His head nodded, pressing a kiss against the top of your shoulder. You were spot on, you were the last person to blame for how Oscar’s day went, you just so happened to be in the wrong place in the wrong time. 

“I’m always here for you,” you reminded Oscar, “it doesn’t matter what’s happened, you know I’m always going to be with you, right?” 

He continued nodding as you spoke. “I’m sorry I made you feel like I don’t appreciate you being with me today, because I do appreciate it, more than anything.” 

“Will you remind yourself of that next time you come home after a bad day?” 

“I promise that I’ll never forget it.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Hawks x Y/N | Doggy Style

Just pictured Hawks fucking me doggy style and I straight up drooled...so here's a little head cannon about it. A18+ MDNI

When Hawks lines himself up behind you, your dripping wet with anticipation. He starts like he always does, gently spreading your legs and slipping his hands up and down your hips to appreciate your curves.

You shiver when you feel the head of his cock brush against your sensitive pussy. He grins and slides his dick back and forth against you slowly. His cockhead glides against your clit and you see stars at the contact.

"Please, Keigo." You groan out, face planted firmly in a pillow, your ass up in the air beneath his capable hands. "Can't wait any longer."

You hear him chuckle to himself from behind you, and then feel him gently pushing inside. That's the thing about Keigo - he's always so, so gentle when he fucks you.

It's funny...you're not even together. Not really. Just two friends who's careers prevent them from dating and settling down. Instead of trying your hands at the dating market, you fuck each other. It's easier this way. Less complicated. You each know what the other likes in bed, and there's no time to sleep around so you don't need to waste time with condoms.

He fucks into you slowly, like you're something precious. Strong, calloused hero hands grip the sides of your ass as he buries himself inside of you, inch by inch. When he bottoms out, he lets out a strangled gasp. "No matter how many times we do this, I never get used to the feel of you. So goddamn good." He practically growls, throwing his head back as he starts to move inside of you.

Each stroke is measured - he finds the perfect rhythm and tempo as he glides in and out of your soaked pussy. Your hazy brain's pleasure receptors sparkle at the way he bucks his hips to hit that special spot deep inside of you. You feel your orgasm building as he slides a hand down your hips, up your stomach and smooths rough fingertips across your nipples. You vaguely wonder at when this turned from a friends with benefits situation to love. When he fucks you like this - all sweet and thoughtful - you swear you're in love with him. This has got to be love, right?

He keeps his pace steady and scoots closer to you so he can kiss at the planes of your back. He presses soft, open mouthed kisses to all the skin within his reach. You back up into him, feeling his balls bounce against you as he keeps his rhythm steady.

"Yes, baby. Just like that. Take it. Take everything I've got." He practically moans, singing your praises as you help him fuck you. That's new - since when did he call you baby!?

"Keigo!" You cry out as he brings his fingertips down to play with your clit. He rubs slow, lazy circles around you, encouraging you to cum whenever your ready. "Keigo fuckkk. Cum inside me? Please. Please cum inside me oh fuck."

He doesn't need telling twice - he lets himself get comfortable inside of you, enjoying the warm squeeze and stretch of your tiny cunt as he fucks you.

You cum around his cock within minutes, crying out his name as he fucks you into oblivion. A creamy ring forms around his dick as you throw it back and fuck him senseless - riding out your orgasm as he rolls his hips steadily. The fluttering of your pussy around his dick sends him over the edge as well. Thick, warm ropes of cum fill you up quickly. Your pussy milks him, taking every bit of cum his cock is willing to give you.

When he's finally finished inside of you, he slowly pulls out. You know he likes to watch the creampie drip out of you slowly, so you hold your position to give him a good view. When he's had his fill of looking, he slips off the mattress and grabs a warm washcloth from the bathroom to indulge in some after care. He wipes gently between your legs, avoiding your gaze as does so.

"So..." He says, somewhat awkwardly as he wipes up his baby batter between your thighs. "I don't know that I can do this casually with you anymore. Y/N. I'm, like, down bad for you."

You snap your legs shut and look up at him, surprised.

"I want us to be more than fuck buddies. I think we should go on a date." He says earnestly, handing over the washcloth so you can continue the job on your own. "I mean...of course I want to continue fucking. Fucking you is literally my favorite thing. I just want it to mean something more."

"Keigo, you're babbling." You say. The face you're making is absolutely priceless - you definitely weren't expecting this conversation to happen tonight.

"Cumming makes me emotionally intelligent." He jokes, throwing you a cheeky fan service wink. "Think about it. The date, I mean."

"Alright. Let's start now. Wanna go grab some food?" You say, your stomach growling loudly in agreement. Hawks looks at you with hearts in his eyes and nods excitedly.

"A woman after my own heart." He slides off the bed to gather up your clothes and pass them your way. "It's a date."

[gingersxng]

Midnight Work

Pairing: f!reader x Yunho

Genre: smut 18+

Notes: employee reader, boss Yunho, sub!reader, rough dom!yunho, bigdick!yunho, office sex, unprotected sex (DONT), Yunho uses reader, Yunho calls reader (slut, whore, kitten, good girl), back shots, breeding kink, cumcumcum, jerking off, throat fucking, Yunho is horny!! May have forgotten something!

Words: 541 (I’m sorry this is so short and rushed)

You were bent over the desk watching your boss taking you from behind, his thick cock stretched your walls out to the max. His pace was fast and rough, one hand held onto your lower back and the other one was around your neck. Yunhos eyes were mostly focused on your entrance, he loved watching how well you swallowed his cock, he fucked you so good that your eyes rolled back in your head.

It all went by so fast, it all began with a late night at the office, you were the only employee left and your boss Jeong Yunho had you working overtime. He said you had a lot of paperwork to finish before you could head home. At around midnight when you’d finally finished it, you went to give the papers to your boss who waited for you patiently… and now 1:25am you were here, having him fucking your brains out on his work desk. You always thought he hated you cause he always treated you like a bag of garbage, but maybe you were wrong.

“It’s so big, aah“ you cried out. “Fuck you take my cock like a perfect slut” he grunted as he looked at you, he flashed you a smirk before he returned his gaze to where you were connected. “Mhmm” you moaned. “ I always knew you’d be good for something” he chuckled.

He was so hot with his black untied tie and rolled up sleeves, he was so focused on fucking you, the vein on his neck popped out. “Gonna fuck you full, gonna make you pregnant, oh fuck” Yunho growled, his eyebrows furrowed together and the pace increased. Your sticky juices created white cream around the base of his fat cock, he plunged deeper kissing your cervix.

Yunho grabbed a handful of your hair and lifted you up and pulled out. He spun you around and lifted you up onto the desk, in a quick motion he opened your legs and pushed his dick inside again. Your hand flew up grabbing his dark blue hair, moaning from the pleasure. Yunhos thrusts turned into short and slow hard thrusts making your whole body jump with each motion.

His dark eyes pierced right through your own, you just did your best to keep them open. “From now..on…you’ll be..my personal whore” he said. “Understand kitten?” You nodded and looked down at your stretched pussy, your inner thighs were sticky with precum and you both were almost at the verge of coming.

“I’m gonna get a little bell which I’ll ring in every time I wanna use you”. Only the thought of being his sex toy was sending you over the edge, you came around his cock with a high pitched moan. Yunho fucked you through your orgasm and he soon after shot his thick white cum inside your pussy, he pushed his cock deeper making sure to get everything in you.

He slowly pulled out with a groan, you watched him with hazy eyes as he jerked himself off. He felt some more coming, he helped you off the desk and pushed you down onto your knees.

“Be a good girl and I’ll reward you afterwards..” he whispered and pushed his cock down your throat.

[help-itrappedmyself]

Liminal Jason part 3

For those of you that saw the blip earlier, when I tried to post this but it broke cause it was too long, here is the real thing. Masterpost for earlier parts.

Sorry again. And slight tw for panic attack

Jason woke up slowly, taking in his surroundings as he adjusted to being awake. It was quiet, and a little humid. He was on a bed, could feel the sheets beneath him, and he wasn’t restrained at all. There was a moment of confusion, because when you wake up after being attacked like that you usually end up dead or a hostage. There was a creeping realization dawning in the back of his mind. He didn’t want to acknowledge it. He opened his eyes, not wanting his suspicions to be true. But he was in a holding cell in the cave, and he realized what must have happened. Then he was pissed. 

He let out a growl, pushing to sit up on the bed. He thought they were doing better. He thought his family trusted him again. His growl was angry, foreboding, telling of the danger and anger in his thoughts. But his head was pounding from the sedative. They knew he hated needles. Hated drugs. Why would they do this to him, trick him like this when they knew how he felt about it. The haze in his head, making his thoughts heavy, and doing nothing but reminding him of all the harm drugs have done to the people around him. He stopped growling, hoping the quiet would help. Much less angry, the clouds in his head starting to make him sad and breathless. He hopes the effects wear off soon. He can’t focus. There is something important that he is missing. He is forgetting something, the spiral of his thoughts and emotions starting to lean towards hysteria. He’s alone. Trapped and alone, mind heavy with fog. He can’t think, why is he stuck here? His breath starts coming faster, increasing while his heart starts to race. He tries to keep quiet, and calm down. A whimper escapes him as he finds a corner and slides down the wall. Then he heard a keen. Close, probably coming from one of the other cells. The sound cuts through the haze. Important, a strike of clarity hitting him with a pulse as he remembers the kid. There was a kid with him. 

Danny. Jason hears him call out again, a sharp keen of panic-confusion, and Jason needs to help him. Jason stumbles up, leaning on the wall for support. He heads towards the door, but he was familiar with how the cells worked. He reached it and of course it was locked. He attempted to manually override, but the pad inside the cell was locked down. The cell can only be opened once someone on the inside clears whoever is inside it. Created for instances where one of them has been incapacitated by a new strain of fear gas, or a new Ivy concoction. To hold someone until an antidote can be created. There was no getting out of here before the other came by. 

Hopefully, they’re on their way now, seeing him awake on the cameras. Jason has some choice words to be had about his situation, angry seething inside him as the panic from earlier recedes. 

Danny lets out another keen, breathy and biting and Jason hears him start to panic. Jason still has to do what he can. He can’t reach him, but he can try and calm him down. They’re in this together, and Jason is going to do whatever he can for the kid. He let out a rumble, steady and calm in response to Danny’s cries. His rumble is filled with annoyance, but still said okay-here-safe. 

Danny is silent for a moment before he hums back a confused-trust. It’s closer, louder, like Danny has moved to be right on the other side of the wall from Jason. This kid, who just had his world destroyed, came here alone and afraid, and he trusts Jason. Screw yelling at the Bats. Danny needs him, and priority one is getting Danny to a place he can feel safe. 

A soft churring sound leaves Jason, sweet and caring, and Jason hopes the kid knows that he is going to do everything he can for him. Then Jason hears Danny let out a short purr, a quiet susurration, that ends as quickly as it starts. Jason is stunned by how much faith Danny is putting in him. How much Jason cares for this boy he just met. 

The bats can pry this boy out from his cold, dead hands.

[muwapsturniolo]

𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒕 ᥫ᭡. c sturniolo

“I just-she left…”

✗ Angst, mentions of sex but no actual smut, cliffhanger

divider by @bernardsbendystraws

Love was a tricky thing - Bittersweet.

It could make you feel so whole and warm, like your life has meaning. On the other hand, it could break you down completely, as if you weren't worth anything.

This was something that scared Chris. He told everyone he had commitment issues, but they took it as he couldn't settle for one girl specifically, or he was scared of women. In reality, it was the idea of not knowing how your love with someone could end.

So when he dove head first into a relationship only for it to crumble right in his hands, he was distraught. It was so sudden, he thought everything was fine. He was happy, she was happy.

At least he thought she was.

"You're love is just too much Chris...I can't do this."

Her words hurt, they broke him.

He didn't understand how him showing how much he loved her was too much. Isn't that what girls want, for their partners to be open and loving?

After that night it was like she never existed, and it wasn't Chris's doing. The girl had deleted her socials, moved away from LA, and cut everyone off. He could only feel what was left of her, but he wasn't able to feel her.

He wished he knew where she went, what she was doing. He wished he knew how the hell she managed to make him fall in love with her, only to break him.

Did she ever love him?

He refused to be the type to marinate in his emotions, so he threw himself into his work. He forced Nick and Matt to film videos back to back, the brothers quickly becoming exhausted. He decided it was finally time to get his license and a car, hoping that if he betters himself she would come back to him.

But she didn't.

Everyone could see the change in him. He started going out more without his brothers, partying with Sam and Gnar. He'd come home with a different girl on his arm every night, and a bunch of money being spent from the joint account he shares.

That phase only lasted a month or so before Nick finally put his foot down, yelling at Chris and telling him to "Get the fuck over the breakup, she's not coming back."

"I know Nick I just....She left. She fucking left and said my love was too much! What does that mean? I-I did my best!"

He broke down, crying harder than he ever had in his brothers' arms.

"Why did she have to leave? Why won't she just come back?"

It seemed like after that, his whole personality and life did a 180. He grew quiet, no longer being the loud one. He was more snappy, staying in his room and locking himself away from the world.

When questioned about it, he told Matt and Nick that everything reminds him of her. The couch where they watched movies all night, the coffee shop she would force him to go to, and the overall energy of LA.

After a long talk, the three of them decided to leave LA. It seemed like a drastic change, but none of them were happy.

Matt never wanted to come to LA, Chris couldn't handle the memories, and Nick just wanted his brothers to be happy. So after a month of dealing with their management and trying to find a place back home, they finally were back in Boston.

Matt was happier, Nick was happier, and Chris was slowly doing better. He was eating more, laughing again, and even hanging out with friends. He still had trouble sleeping at night, his dreams filled with the memories he shared with her.

He'd wake up wishing that he spent more time savoring those moments instead of taking them for granted. He knew nothing lasted forever and yet he was naive enough to believe they would.

There was a specific night when he couldn't sleep, his mind silent as he stared at the wall. It irritated him, he was tired but something was keeping him awake. He dragged himself out of bed and went to the kitchen to find tea, hoping it would put him in a tranquil state, but there was no tea to be found.

With a sigh he slipped on his shoes and grabbed the car keys, sending a quick text to Nick and Matt, letting them know that if they woke up and he was still gone, he was just grabbing something from the store.

He planned on going to Walgreens, but on the way there, he saw a 24-hour coffee shop. It was small, the lighting giving up a warm glow that was already lulling him to sleep.

He parked the car and walked inside, the smell of the coffee grounds and lavender infiltrating his nose.

It reminded him of the coffee shop they would go to.

He stepped up to the register, looking at the menu for a second before ordering a large chamomile and lavender tea. It only took a second for the barista to hand him his drink, wishing him a 'good night' and telling him to 'be safe'.

With a brief smile he turns around, immediately locking eyes with her.

He could feel his heart fall to the pits of his stomach, his tea long forgotten and dropped to the ground.

"Hey Chris...."

[lustlovehart]

Dang over 700, that’s impressive congrats!

If you still have requests open, maybe we can see/hear more about Sebek? I love the idea of him as a swamp monster tsundere dumping flowers on MH! Reader and find him fun~

Summary: Humans are pests. They’re the reason Malleus has fallen from grace, and why Lilia is no longer in his prime. He hates you, and everything your job stands for. He hates the way you’re not like them. He hates how you’re too kind. He wants to hate you, yet he can’t at all.

Warnings: Tiny bit of Tsundere Sebek, He thinks about 💀 you (he changes his mind dw guys!!), Mentions of his monster crimes, Little tiny hint of obsession, Implied human eating, Sebek sketch at end!

Your feet are dipped into the water, ripples cascading off where the limbs land, tranquil and cold, the shadows of the trees just further enriching the experience.

The one thing that isn’t relaxing about the water however, may as well be the guardian of the swamp, who’s practically breathing down your neck.

“Well human? Have you had your fill of this sacred marsh? I will not have you linger here longer than necessary! I only allowed you in to show the true essence of beings like us.”

Despite what leaves his mouth, you have a striking feeling that he won’t throw you out.

Because, that’s the fourth time he’s said that, and he’s yet to drag you out.

Through the close proximity, you place your palm on his face, softly pushing him away in your annoyance, yet like a magnet, he attracts himself right back to you, finding his place in the area to be right by your side.

“I’ve drowned many of your kind, don’t push me away so carelessly…!”

“Have you drowned me yet?” He stutters for a moment, racking his brain to find a suitable excuse as to why that is. He stops when you lean back on the grass, looking up at the sky as you lay down.

But to your dismay, he finds one.

“My liege wants you alive, so we must do what he wants.”

“You want the best for him right? What if the best for him is getting rid of me?” You’ve once again stopped any retort on his tongue, your eyes fluttering shut. Your feet continues to dangle in his waters, breath steadying as you let the sound of dew drops falling into the marsh invade your ears.

In your slumber, you don’t notice the way Sebeks scaley face is centimeters away from yours, trembling inhales. You’re right. Getting rid of humans is the best for his liege, for… all monsters really.

His clawed hand reaches up towards your throat, his nails scratching a line in your skin. Webbed fingers tremble, he could, he really could…

He could help everyone.

…

His hand falls, his forehead falling onto yours. His skin is rough, but he takes care in placing his head softly on yours to not wake you up. His palm follows in suit, laying itself on your throat, cold blood feeling the warmth of your mortal body.

And your heart. He remembers reading about human hearts, how they’re important to they’re bodily functions. Without it, you’d die. It’d be easier than killing you himself. He doesn't know which is better, for himself. He could take pride knowing he rid the world of one more wretched monster hunter, or he could rest in comfort knowing you passed in peace.

Sebek doesn’t notice the way the plants have emerged from the water, taking hold of your legs. There’s a particular branch that caresses your face in a certain manner, one completely inappropriate for a human. His mouth hangs up, immediately ripping the wood from your flesh. He throws the twig away, his head turning when your visibly stir at the motion.

He’s not well versed in human care. He's read about it, but obviously he’s never acted upon it! His hands fumble, if he’s correct, one of the quickest ways to knock a human out is to hit them really hard…! But… He doesn’t wanna do that—

Ah, you’re asleep again.

Sebek carefully lifts himself from your body, water dripping onto the grass from his hair. He slowly backs himself into the water, the only part visible being his head, before entirely disappearing into the murky water.

He realizes something in the comfort of his pond.

He… He wouldn’t need to kill you if you just… never left. Neither would you ever disturb the peace of any other beasts.

Under that water, he ties a knot, petals floating above the marsh at his bouquet. As well as a hand, that drops deep down. A coworker of yours. He’s unsure why you’re the only one he’s not too keen on consuming, yet he can so easily do it to those you know.

It doesn’t matter. They’re the same. Taste the same too.

…

You awake to a lonely sight, Sebek gone from the scene. Though, your chest feels heavier than usual. You look down, and an array of different plants and greenery fill your vision. It’s wrapped in flimsy wood bark, moss tying the piece together.

There’s a note hastily inscribed.

Human, leave soon.

Even without reading the message you know it’s Sebek. You assume it’s from his human hatred he writes such mean words.

In truth, that’s part of it. You’ll never know the other is him not wanting to see the corpses at the bottom of his home. Or maybe you will. Especially when you notice a shiny pendant gifted inside the flowers. Assuming it to be a sweet gesture from Sebek you smile at it. Such a happiness slowly fades when you feel a certain familiarity with the necklace.

… You feel like you’ve seen this before.

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

By Your Side

The Arcane brainrot remains strong, and is apparently strong enough to make me write a fic twice as long as usual. Dammit Silco

Summary: Silco receives reports of an enforcer in Zaun beating the chem-barons at their own game and goes to investigate. He doesn't expect to see a ghost of his past.

It's always on the bridge that his life-changing moments happen. First it was Felicia's death, then Vander's betrayal. Now…now it was you, trading your life for his, pushing him away as enforcers moved towards the both of you.

Go, your lips mouth as your dagger sinks into the throat of the enforcer closest to him. You rip the blade out, causing blood to spurt from the wound and whirl around to face the others, shouting a challenge to draw their attention away.

His feet remain rooted to the ground, throat dry as he watches enforcers crowd around you, hears your war cries as you turn into a deadly whirlwind of steel and suddenly Sevika is dragging him away, eyes hard. Your cries get softer as Sevika hauls him further and further away from you, until he can no longer hear you anymore, nor see you.

No, he can't lose you too. Not after everything, not after what he's promised you. Not when the reality of Zaun is so close at hand —

"—co! Silco!" He blinks slowly, raising his head. Sevika stands before him, her flesh hand on the table supporting her as she leans forward, staring right at him.

"What is it, Sevika?" He groans, noticing the fallen pieces of paper that he will have to reorganise later.

"There have been reports of an enforcer single-handedly cutting their way through Zaun. All the chaos has been affecting business and the chem-barons have been complaining."

"Are they all that useless? One enforcer is giving them so much trouble?" Silco rubs his temple. As if the chem-barons themselves aren't enough of a problem already, now they're handing him more problems to deal with.

"The enforcer apparently knows all the ins and outs of Zaun or something," Jinx chimes in from her perch atop the rafters. She lazily rolls over to look at Silco, playing around with her latest grenade, grinning down at him. "Disappearing into the alleys only to pop out again when everyone least expects it and kills everyone."

Silco frowns, how would an enforcer know Zaun's streets well enough to trick chem-barons? The only plausible explanation he can think of is that someone had given the enforcer a map, and a traitor in their midst was an thorn he had to remove with haste.

"I suppose I will have to clean up after them once again," he sighs. "Sevika, track this enforcer down. Follow their movements, take note of anyone they meet and report back."

"Understood." With that, his ever-loyal right-hand exits his office, leaving him alone with Jinx.

"You know," she hops onto his desk, "that enforcer looked rather familiar."

Silco raises an eyebrow at her, and she smirks, knowing she has stolen back his attention. "They looked a lot like…someone…what was their name again?"

Silco turns back to his stack of paperwork when she falls silent once more and Jinx rummages through a drawer, only to slam it shut with a loud bang that echoes all around the room. She lunges forward, deft fingers quickly finding the thin chain around his neck and pulls on it, hard.

"They had this hanging around their neck too." She whispers. "Sounds familiar?"

No. No, it couldn't be. You — you were gone, dead, lost to the enforcers that day on the bridge. It couldn't be you, it had to be an imposter, there was no way — he had to see it for himself. He had to know, had to confirm it with his own eye.

"Are you sure?" He asks calmly, careful not to break his facade. He had to remain rational, control his emotions for this could be a trap laid by Piltover, but how would they know about you? Too many questions, not enough answers. He could wait for Sevika's report, he had patience.

Jinx lets go of the chain, sliding off his desk. "I saw it myself. You can't miss it, dangles from their neck like an obnoxious piece of jewellery."

Silco's eye widens slightly. There is no doubt about it, it really is you, but how? How had you survived the fight, the riots, and why didn't you come back to Zaun? To him? His fingers curl around his cup as he searches for the answer in his past. You'd promised to be by his side, and he thought that promise lost when he was separated from you that day, but you were very much alive. Had you lied? Yet another question to ask when he got his hands on you.

Jinx notices the twitching and frowns. Silco was clearly hiding something from her, and she didn't like it when he did that. She leans forward, "who are they to you?"

"Someone I may know," he answers, pushing Jinx away. "Don't you have better things to do than bother me?"

"Hmph," Jinx pouts, annoyed that she isn't getting a proper answer. "They're clearly someone you were close to, otherwise they wouldn't have that ugly ring."

Silco sighs, picking up the topmost paper from the pile, "Not anymore. Now go and tinker with something else or make yourself useful and help Sevika track the enforcer down."

Jinx groans but exits the office, leaving Silco alone with his thoughts. Was the enforcer really you? How were you still alive? He plays with the ring hanging around his neck, remembering the day you had presented him with the ring. It hadn't been anything special, fancy or big. Just a simple gesture of shoving a box into his hand and telling him to open it.

"What's this?"

"A surprise gift! Open it!" You grin at him, clearly rather excited about his reaction to whatever that gift is. He frowns, mind cycling through possible pranks you could pull with this 'surprise gift' of yours and stares at it suspiciously.

"I told you it'd backfire," Vander chuckles, cleaning a glass. "You can't escape that reputation of yours."

"Oh come on! I'm not that bad…am I?" You blink owlishly as the two men stare at you incredulously. "…I see. Thank you both for the votes of confidence."

"You're welcome," Silco drawls, suppressing a chuckle of amusement as he pulls the box closer. "You're going to clean up whatever mess comes of me opening this box, understand?"

"I swear there will be no mess!" You pout, slumping onto the table. Vander laughs, ruffling your hair, "I can vouch for her this time, Silco."

"Fine," Silco sighs, but still braces himself as he opens the box — to reveal a simple metal band resting on a cushion.

"So, gonna marry me or —"

"How did you get this?" Silco lifts the ring into the light, studying it. There are carvings set in the metal, your initials and his, bringing a smile to his face as he reads it. "And yes, I am 'going to marry you', don't fret."

"Yes!" You whisper-yell giddily, excitedly bouncing around the bar. Vander pours three drinks, pushing two towards Silco and you while drinking the last one, chuckling. Silco rolls his eyes, taking the cup offered by Vander and throws his pen at you. You yelp as the pen hits you squarely in the forehead and then chuck the pen right back at him.

Silco calmly dodges your terrible aim, taking another sip from his cup, "are you going to answer my question or not?"

"I stole it!"

"I don't believe you."

"What?!" You flop onto the floor dramatically. "The man I love doesn't believe me, it's over."

"Who did you steal this from?" Silco slips the ring onto his finger, then takes it off again. It's far too loose. "I'll need to hang this around my neck."

"Uh…a jewellery merchant I happened across a couple days ago."

"And you didn't even check the ring size."

"I'm supposed to know your ring size?" You snort, moving over to the counter top.

"I don't know, are you?" Silco leans in close, swiping your drink.

"Hey! That's mine!"

Silco simply smirks at you as he drinks half before handing it back, "too slow."

"Give that ring back! I'm reverting my decision, you drinks thief!"

"It's mine already, I'm afraid I'm not keen on parting with it." Silco quickly glances around, ensuring no one is looking before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. "Although I could make it up to you with a return gift."

"Oh? Better not disappoint me then, Sil~" You grin, capturing his lips into a full kiss, which he returns.

"Have I ever, love?"

He tucks the ring away upon hearing his office door open, revealing a scowling Sevika who has a couple of scratches.

"They got away, sorry," she grunts, "but I did find out who they are. It's Y/N. They really are alive."

"How?" Silco growls.

"Don't know, but they don't remember me. Don't know if they'll remember you." She frowns. "Going in alone is stupid, don't you dare think about it."

"I wasn't." Silco sits back down, pinching the bridge of his nose. There's a weird ache in his chest, a pull that tries to drag him out of his office but he forces it back down. He can't let his emotions take a hold of him, there is much he doesn't know about your situation, going after you right now is far too risky.

Still, he takes a different turn during his usual nightly routine, entering an alleyway and takes out a cigar, lighting it. He lets the ring around his neck dangle outside his clothes, the silver reflecting what little light exists at this time of day. A ring of smoke floats into the air, disappearing into the cold night sky as footsteps sound from his left.

"About time you showed up, you've always been late whenever I wasn't around to haul you out of bed." Silence greets him, save for the click of a gun and Silco turns to face you. "Silence really doesn't suit you."

The gun lifts, pointing right at him and he simply stares back. A finger curls around the trigger, pressing it down slightly but he remains unfazed.

"Y/N." He can see the ring that hangs around your neck now, a simple gold coloured band hanging from a thin silver chain. He remembers the day he gave it to you, the way you took great care of it every day, but now it hangs tarnished from your neck, stained and rusted. "It's dirty."

He reaches over, pressing his chest against the barrel of the gun and inspects the ring. He can easily get rid of the rust that has set in, scrub away the dirt but returning it to its former shine will be quite impossible. He clicks his tongue, annoyed and lets go of the ring lifting his gaze to meet your empty eyes. "Let's go home."

The gun doesn't go off, your finger falling from the trigger when you see the ring hanging around his neck, images flashing through your mind. Memories that feel familiar and alien at the same time roar in your head, confusion eating away at you and you drop your gun, clutching at your head. Your chest tightens, lungs refusing to inhale the oxygen you need and your heart thunders in your ears.

No no no no no.

"Breathe." A deep voice cuts through the haze. "In and out. Focus on my voice, follow my instructions. I will not lose you again."

You force your lungs to cooperate, following the instructions step by step, encouraged by the gentle deep voice until your vision refocuses.

"Silco," you whisper shakily. "Silco."

"I'm right here," he murmurs, arms wrapping around you.

"I —"

"Hush now, love. Everything's alright."

"No, it's not. I nearly — I — Sevika —" Panic bubbles to the surface but Silco quickly steps in before the situation can spiral.

"Sevika is alright. You held back enough for her to escape with a few scratches." He presses a kiss to the top of your head. You're back, with him, in his arms. Silco tightens his grip, hugging you closer. It can't be a dream, such a dream would be far too cruel.

"They took me, suppressed my memories, Silco I —" You choke out a sob, tears silently flowing down your cheeks. His heart aches at the sight, it always has whenever he saw you cry.

"But they could never take away our love." He presses his forehead against yours, breathing in your new scent. You smell like Piltover, a weird freshness, a hint of lavender that doesn't suit you in the slightest, and that disgusting blue clashes with the colour of your eyes. Your hair is no longer as rugged, it's combed neatly and Silco ruffles it, running his fingers through the strands like he used to.

He kisses you until your breath smells like cigars, throws his jacket over your shoulders and bundles you in it until he's satisfied he can't smell the Piltover stink anymore then presses one more chaste kiss to your lips. You smell like ash now, like the smoke that fills Zaun's air and he allows himself a small smile. The only trace of Piltover left now is the blue uniform but that has to wait until the both of you are home.

You're back now, with him, safely in his arms, and that's all that really matters. You, by his side once more, keeping the promise you had made to him years ago.

Don't worry, I'll be by your side, always.

[moonybelgug]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓.𖥔 ݁ ˖

warnings: !MDNI! heavy nsfw, gn!reader, AE!reader, subby sunday, he's comfy so he feels safe enough to act like a brat lmao soft bathtub jerking off

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

Thinking about when Sunday comes to visit once you've got your room all setup <3 And he's quietly enjoying the tour you give him of all your trinkets and the hard work you put into making the room such a comforting place. He's very proud and admires your work immensely. In fact, he feels at peace, being surrounded by so much... you.

When you get to the bathroom, he's in awe of the luxurious bathtub and the marble toiletry. You jokingly ask if he'd like to take a bath, but rather than him catching on right away, you see a moment of hesitation. So you give him privacy, and after a moment of silence, you peek inside and see him sitting in the tub, slouched so the water is up to his chin, his wings moving slowly in soothed motions.

Sunday opens his eyes and peers at you, a soft yet devious smile on his lips as you approach, kneeling beside the tub and caressing his cheek until he sits up, leaning out of the water and into your palm. He grips the edge for support as the two of you kiss, your lips trailing hungrily down the expanse of his neck, licking the water from his skin and making him shiver even in such hot temperatures. He tugs on your shirt to encourage you into the tub with him, pouting when you only continue to tease him. "I wish for company," he says with an impatient look.

You laugh softly. "Do you always get what you wish for?"

"It's your fault for spoiling me," he rebuts.

You make quick work of your clothes, sinking into the hot water beside him. He makes himself at home, tucking his face into your neck as his arms snake around your waist. The water laps at your skin rhythmically, lulling Sunday to sleep. He feels safe here, in your space, holding your body, skin to skin, in such a domestic setting.

He'd instead not fall asleep, however, not when he's got you in such an opportunistic position. He shakes his head, pulling his knees up so they poke out of the water. He gazes up at you until you look at him, smiling with faux innocence.

"Wash my back?"

At your agreement, he seats himself between your legs, his eyes falling shut as you wash his back, letting out soft hums and other suggestive sounds. He arches his back as your hands descend the shape of his spine, and you know he's tempting you. Your hands grip his sides when they meet his hips, and you tug him into your lap with the water aiding your strength, making him gasp at the sudden movement.

"What's this?" He asks.

"Just giving you what you want," you coo, spreading his bent legs, giving his thighs a gentle squeeze before dipping your hand lower to stroke at his cock with the tips of your fingers. He practically melts in your hold, his head tilting back to rest on your shoulder as he inhales deeply, feeling your free hand travel to his abdomen to rub at his stomach, tracing a circle around his belly button. He whimpers at the attention, his hips moving on their own to meet your lazy pace, moaning beautifully as the water sloshes gently around you.

"This what you wanted, dove? You don't have to beat around the bush with me. I'll give you everything," you purr into his ear, making his wings flap excitedly as you circle your thumb around his rosy tip.

"I'll take care of you," you nip at his earlobe, earning another whine. He's so responsive tonight, you think. It may be the warm water or the new room, but you can't say you hate whatever's gotten into him.

He pushes back into your body as your strokes quicken, doing little to hide his voice as his thighs begin to shake. His hips eagerly meet your fist, your free hand plucking at one of the rose buds on his chest. He finishes with a stifled moan, his cum splattering onto his tummy but quickly washed away by the sloshing water.

You curl your arms around him as he basks in the cool down, his head lolling on your shoulder, purring at the many kisses he’s receiving.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓.𖥔 ݁ ˖

[straylightdream]

unconditional

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: yoon joenghan x f.reader

↳ life has been hard, and you know you’re not easy to love right now. No matter how hard things get he’a always by your side.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: established relationship

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.2k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fluff, angst, lots of emotions, mentions or depression and anxiety, suggestive: eluding to sex in the past, and mentions of showering together

an: this is a short one, but I’m definitely in my Jeonghan feels right now.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

Staring at him intently you were trying to figure out how to put into words everything that was going on through your mind. Leaning against the kitchen counter he just stared at you wondering if you were ever going to speak. Things haven’t been the easiest in this relationship recently.

“I must be really hard to be with,” a sigh passed your lips. He couldn’t even say anything. He just stared at you with his warm dark eyes. “I’m gonna take that silence as a yes,” you crossed your arms and just stared at him.

You were going through a lot at the moment. Your father had randomly left your mother a few months ago for a random woman. You were suffering from depression and anxiety. In the process of dealing with that kept pushing away Jeonghan while he was just trying to be there for you. You weren't the easiest person to be with right now but he didn’t care. He just knew you needed him to tell you were going to be okay. He knew that even though you were going through a rough patch, you just needed some to love and support you unconditionally.

“I’m trying my hardest to be there for you,” he says walking towards you. He really just wanted to hug you and tell you to let him in. He hates when you become so guarded that he can’t get through to you.

“I know you are, and do you think it’s honestly fair you have to put up with me?” Your eyes watered at the thought that maybe you should break up. Maybe you should give him an out. He doesn’t deserve all the hard time you put him through. He deserves someone who is going to love and support him like he supports you.

“I’m not giving up on you,” he stood right in front of you staring at you with kind eyes. His hand rests on your cheek as he gently drags his thumb across your delicate skin. “I’m never going to love anyone like I love you.”

If you looked up the definition of a “perfect boyfriend” in the dictionary you would probably find a picture of Yoon Jeonghan. He was the most caring and loving boyfriend in the world and would do anything to make you happy. He constantly goes out of his way to do things that he knows will make you smile.

Bright eyes started at you intently as you fought back tears. He didn’t even bother saying anything else he just wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into his strong chest. You cling to him instantly. You don’t want to be difficult. You wished more than anything you could just be happy.

“I love you and we’re in this together,” he murmured with his lips resting on top of your head. Nuzzling your head into his chest. You knew he wasn’t going anywhere. He was in it for the long haul and would do anything for you. His hand rubs your back and you hold onto him. Gentle tears slowly slide down your cheeks.

“I love you too,” you said softly.

“Why don’t we go to bed and I can hold you?” he let go of you slowly and gave you a small smile. He leans forward and presses a soft kiss to the tip of your nose.

“I would like that,” you reached down and grabbed his soft hand.

Slowly you made your way towards your bedroom. You both crawled onto the queen size bed that sits under the window. You snuggled up as physically close as you could get to Jeonghan. He wrapped his arms around you and held you close as your head rested on his shoulder.

“Thank you for putting up with me,” you sighed. You’ll never understand how you managed to find someone like Jeonghan. He’s truly perfect in every sense of the word. You love him with your whole heart and soul, and you know he loves you.

“I love you and I’m always going to be there for you,” he gently kissed the top of your head, causing you to smile as she closed her eyes.

“Let’s lay down,” he moves so he’s laying down and he pulls up close to him with your head resting on his chest. “Do you know the moment I realized I was in love with you?” He absentmindedly draws shapes on your arms.

“No?”

“We had been dating for two and half weeks and it was the day we got caught in the rainstorm.” You vividly remember this day. “We had gone to the museum because my favorite artists had paintings there and I remember I could barely pay attention to the art. I was captivated watching you. You seemed so interested in learning about the things I love.” When you met him and you found out about his love for art. You learn everything about his favorite artist so you could share his love for art.

“I liked you so much from the beginning, I wanted to make sure you knew how much I cared for you.”

“I can still picture you that day. I remember it was a beautiful spring day and you wore that pretty light blue dress.” You didn’t tell him but you bought that dress to wear on that date.

“It was a warm spring day. I had no clue it was supposed to rain. I didn’t even bother bringing a jacket.”

“I know you hated the rain that day, but everything about that day was perfect for me. I realized watching you stare at those paintings that I was in love with you.” You almost want to start crying again. You aren’t sure how you managed to get Jeonghan to love you like he does.

“I realized I love you probably at the month mark.”

“You mean after that I told you I love you?” He smiles. He never had a problem being the first one to say those three big words.

“When you told me you love me, I realized then that I felt things for you I hadn’t ever felt before,” leaning up your press a gentle kiss to his neck. “It clicked for me when you spent the night after we went out with your friend. I remember the way you held my hand just seemed so proud to introduce me as your girlfriend.”

“I was head over heels for you. Of course I was proud to introduce you to them.”

“That night in bed things just felt more intimate and intense and I realized it was because I was in love with you.”

He closes his eyes smiling. “You told me that night you loved me while we took a shower together. I just remember how nervous you were. I thought you looked absolutely adorable.”

“I loved you then and I still love you with my whole heart,” you snuggle closer to him.

“Baby I have loved you with my whole heart and soul since that rainy day.”

You know no matter how hard things get for you Jeonghan is always going to love. He’s always going to be by your side. Soon you both drifted off to sleep knowing no matter what you have each other.

[meazalykov]

battle of the blood

esmee brugts x reader x sister!OC

summary: el clásico gets the best of your emotions

warnings: childhood trauma, strained family relationship, angst, swearing, verbal abuse, mentions of physical abuse, long chapter, I know esmee started during this el clasico but I changed it for the plot.. please be warned.

oc: your sister's name is isla, you can make up her face claim

as one of the best defenders in the world at 21, you remind everyone why you’ve earned that title, having faced some of the world’s best forwards and come out on top. 

you love football, its your entire life, but there’s something else that was added to that: 

your girlfriend, esmee.

esmee, who came to barcelona in 2023, is your love. her presence makes everything feel right, and you can’t help but smile whenever you see her at all. you remember the day she arrived, the way her eyes sparkled with excitement, the hint of nervousness as she stepped into her new life. 

it was the start of something beautiful—not just for her, but for you too. you had been searching for something deeper, and there she was.

being with esmee has awakened a side of you that had been dormant, buried beneath the pressures you’ve had throughout your entire life. 

during training sessions, the intensity can be overwhelming. despite the urgency of it all, esmee is always there. she makes your heart race, not just from the adrenaline of the sport, but from the love you have for her. when you catch her gaze from across the training pitch, it’s as if time slows down. 

the world around you fades away, and all you see is her.

in those fleeting moments, you can’t help but sneak in quick hugs, a brief escape from the tiredness of training. yes, you keep things professional in front of the public but the team adores the mutual love you have for eachother. 

esmee giggles, a sound that sparks warmth in your chest, but you can see the hints of nervousness creeping into her demeanor. her teammates, playful and lively, often tease her, and while you know it’s all in good fun, you can’t help but feel protective of her. 

when the world gets too loud, esmee knows how to bring you back down to earth. she asks about your day, your plans, anything really, and in those moments of vulnerability, something you weren’t granted as a child.. you find peace. 

you cherish the little things, like the way she plays with your hair or how she leans her head against your shoulder, finding safety in your presence. mosttimes, when the pressures of life seem too heavy, you sit together in silence, holding hands and blocking the world away. 

evenings spent together often find you curled up on the couch, watching your favorite shows, stealing kisses during the best parts, or sharing popcorn as you giggle at the most ridiculous moments. these are the times that reaffirmed your belief in love.

a few months into your relationship with esmee, an undeniable comfort settled between you two. you realized that the walls you had built around your heart were slowly coming down, allowing her in. 

those late-night conversations that once danced around the surface now floated into deeper waters. you acted in certain ways that made esmee knew that you had a difficult past, but she never questioned you about it. she would never force you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with. 

one evening, while sitting on your cozy balcony, the barcelona street lights twinkling below, you felt compelled to open up about something that had long weighed on you.

“esmee,” you began, your voice just above a whisper, 

“you know my sister, isla?” the light from the street below caught the glint of curiosity in her eyes. she nodded, already aware of that fact but eager to hear more. 

“we don’t really get along,” you continued, almost wanting to laugh since your words were  an understatement. 

esmee leaned closer, her expression shifting to one of concern. 

“i get that, but… what happened?” her gentle prompt encouraged you to delve deeper. you took a deep breath, gathering the courage to share the truth.

“it’s not just sibling rivalry, esmee,” you began, your heart pounding. 

“it’s… it’s more complicated than that. when we were kids, isla was never really nice to me. she would tease me, and I tried to brush it off, but it was relentless. as we got older, it turned into something darker.” 

esmee’s brow furrowed, and you could see the flicker of concern in her eyes. 

“what do you mean?” she asked softly, her voice steady but filled with empathy.

“there was this one time,” you recalled, the memories flooding back with clarity. 

“we were in the field, just playing football during one of the days that we didn’t have practice back at my childhood club, then, out of nowhere, she just… snapped. she started pushing me, calling me names, she beat me up then started saying I’d never be as good as her.” 

your voice trembled as you continued. 

“that was just the start. it got worse. she’d corner me, taunt me. when my parents weren't home, she would always beat me up. its not like they would have cared since they were never around but isla alway reminded me that I would never be her.” 

esmee’s hand found yours, her grip tightening slightly as if to reinforce the bond you shared. 

“y/n, I’m so sorry,” she said softly, her eyes glistening with understanding. 

“that’s awful. no one should have to go through that, especially from your sister.” 

the weight of your confession felt heavy yet liberating. as you spoke, you worried that it might shift her perception of you, but her unwavering gaze reassured you. 

“it’s been hard for me to reconcile those memories,” you admitted. 

“i wish she would snap out of it, be the sister I always wanted. but every time I think about confronting my past, about talking to her, it’s like that darkness just pulls me back.”

“you have every right to feel how you feel,” esmee replied, her voice a soothing balm against the turmoil inside you. 

“sometimes letting go is the healthiest choice. it’s okay to put distance between you and someone who brings you pain.” 

in your mind you had esmee’s love, and that was more than enough. 

when isla transferred to real madrid from aston villa back in august, it sent shockwaves through the football community, but for you, y/n, it was merely a confirmation of what you had always known. everyone expected the announcement to create an excitment among you, with commentators dissecting every angle, but you felt strangely detached. after all, you had long ago come to terms with the reality of your relationship—or lack thereof—with isla.

most people suspect that you and isla aren’t close at all, and they’re right. the truth is, you don’t even follow each other on social media. it’s not an oversight; it’s a deliberate choice. you’ve both carved out your own professional existences in the world of football, but the disconnect runs far deeper than just career paths. 

when isla’s name surfaces in interviews, you always say, “she’s my sister,” but even that feels like a hollow statement. it’s the only phrase you can utter without spiraling into a torrent of emotions that wouldn’t be conducive to your public image. 

your pr team constantly reminds you to keep it professional, advising you to avoid any personal comments that could lead to negative speculation. they know the rumors swirl, that fans are eager to dissect what must be some family drama. 

they think it’s just sibling rivalry or jealousy. if only they knew the truth—that isla’s presence in your life had been more harmful than supportive, and that your silence is more a shield than a statement.

as the media continues to pair your names together, it’s irritating to reflect on the fact that you’re linked by blood and talent, yet worlds apart in spirit. you wish you could express how isla’s competitive edge always crossed the line into emotional and physical abuse, how the shadows of your childhood still loom large, how her triumphs feel like a stark reminder of your own struggles. 

for now, those words remain locked away, buried under layers of professional decorum and public expectations of barcelona players.

as el clasico approached, you felt your mood souring more and more each day. anticipation crackled in the air like a thousand tiny static shocks. for you, it felt heavy, oppressive—a cloud she couldn’t shake off. 

the usual buzz of excitement that surrounded the biggest match in football felt muted, as if you were standing behind a glass wall, watching everyone else thrive in the moment while you grappled with your own turmoil. 

only a handful of people on the team seemed to understand why your demeanor had shifted so noticeably. esmee was one of them—brash and spirited, always ready to sprinkle a bit of humor to lighten the mood, yet deeply empathetic when it came to your struggles. 

esmee had a sixth sense for when y/n was struggling. alexia, as captain, also had a deep understanding of the weight y/n’s situation with isla. she’d made sure to keep conversations about family issues to a minimum during training sessions. 

the rest of the team suspected something was off, but they respected y/n’s space, choosing not to pry or gossip. 

“things will be okay, y/n,” esmee reassured her you afternoon, giving a supportive squeeze to your waist after the conversation of el clasico was brough up. 

“we’ll get through madrid together. we’ll play the full 90 minutes and then come back to barcelona. you won’t have to see isla again until march.” 

despite the attempt at comfort, y/n felt her heart sink. she appreciated esmee’s sentiment, but the thought only compounded her feelings of dread. 

“i didn’t see her for three years when she was at aston villa,” y/n muttered, frustration clawing at her chest. 

“why did she have to come to madrid? it’s like she’s intentionally making my life worse.” 

y/n had achieved her success in her own right, yet every time she saw isla on the edge of the pitch, posing for photos or congratulating teammates, y/n felt herself slipping back into the background. the knot in her stomach twisted tighter, amplifying her anxiety. do any of those people know that isla is an abuser? do they know that she used to beat up her younger sister until her hands started to hurt too much? probably not. 

“c’mon, y/n, try to see the positives,” esmee urged, attempting to pull her friend from the dark place lingering in her thoughts. 

“this is your chance to show madrid what you’re made of! i know you’re a defender but maybe we can get a goal out of you!.” 

you forced a laugh with a smile, but it felt more like a grimace. the idea of stepping onto the pitch, with thousands of eyes watching you—not only as part of barcelona but in direct comparison to isla—sent your mind spiraling. 

what if you didn’t perform well? what if your sister outshines you? 

you had wanted to have this magical moment as a pro player without isla looming in the background, always casting a lengthy shadow over your achievements.

“look, why not make this game about us?” esmee continued, trying to penetrate y/n’s wall of anxiety. 

“play for the team, for each other. we’re going to have fun! it’s el clasico! if anything, we should be excited! forget about isla.” 

it was hard for you to forget, very hard. how could you? memories of childhood flashed through your mind: the abuses, the times when isla’s achievements always overshadowed your own spark. it felt like being trapped in a cycle she couldn’t escape. 

you remembered celebrating each of your own milestones quietly, while isla was surrounded by adoring friends and admiring coaches. 

taking a moment to gather your thoughts, you felt a flicker of determination ignite within you. esmee was right about one thing: it was important to rely on your teammates, the women who had stood by your side through victories and losses alike.

perhaps, if you reframed your perspective, you could focus on what you could control rather than the shadows of your past.

as training sessions progressed, it became harder for you to keep your emotions in check. every exercise, every drill, became a mental obstacle course. the tension built up not just for you but for the entire team. they were gearing up for a match that was not only an opportunity to prove themselves against their fiercest rivals, but also a chance for you to confront some demons that had followed you into the present.

the morning of el clásico broke in madrid, sunlight streaming through the hotel room window, illuminating every corner and filling the air with an electric energy. 

“hey, sleepyhead! wake up! it’s match day!” kika chirped, her voice bright and cheerful as she moved around the room, throwing a pillow on your sleepy head.

you couldn’t help but wake up and smile at her enthusiasm, though the knot in your stomach tightened a little more.

“morning,” you replied, stretching and rubbing the sleep from your eyes. the vibrant posters of barcelona hung on the walls, a reminder of the mission ahead.

 “did you sleep at all?”

“of course! i had this amazing dream about scoring the winning goal,” kika laughed, her excitement contagious.

you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of that same energy, even as your mind drifted back to other thoughts.

“i barely slept. too many thoughts,” you admitted, the weight of the day pressing on your shoulders.

“about isla?” kika guessed, her tone shifting to something more understanding. you nodded, your heart sinking a little at the mention of her name. 

the reminder of being in the starting lineup sent a mix of nerves through you. as you and kika finished getting ready, you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the bathroom mirror. 

you looked focused, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of longing for the comfort of esmee’s arms. it was hard not to wish you could have a moment away from the pressure, to feel the warmth and safety of your partner’s embrace. 

“let’s head down for breakfast,” kika suggested, sensing your distraction. you nodded, knowing that you needed to center yourself and prepare for the day ahead. the atmosphere in the dining room was buzzing with excitement, the smell of coffee and fresh pastries filling the air.

as you entered, the chatter of your teammates surrounded you, their laughter and energy infectious. you settled at the table, and soon the conversation turned toward the madrid lineup. your heart raced as they mentioned isla's name, and you felt the knot in your stomach clench tighter. 

“of course, they’ll have isla,” mapi said, a slight edge of playful rivalry in her voice. 

“she’s one of their best forwards. should be fun trying to keep her in check.” 

“fun,” you murmured, trying to smile. inside, you felt a mix of admiration and jealousy, an emotional tug-of-war that blurred the line between sibling rivalry and personal ambition. 

“we’ll handle it,” frido chimed in, trying to lift the mood.

as breakfast came to an end, you took a moment to reflect on everything swirling in your head. thoughts raced as you prepared to head to the stadium, the enormity of the day dawning on you. 

this wasn’t just another game; it was el clásico. you would be facing isla, your biological sister.

"you ready?" mapi asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement, oblivious to the storm inside you. you forced a smile, nodding tightly as the whistle blew, marking the beginning of el clásico. 

you quickly tucked your worries to the back of your mind, focusing on the game ahead.

as you maneuvered up the pitch, you could hear your teammates calling for the ball. aitana had it, and you made your way toward her, preparing to receive the pass. just as you felt the rhythm starting to flow through you, a figure rushed at you, and adrenaline kicked in. 

at the last moment, you spotted that familiar silhouette, but it was too late. 

you managed to push the ball to caro just in time, but the force of the collision pushed you back slightly. steadying yourself, you took a quick look only to realize it was isla. instinct kicked in, and you pushed her away from you. 

"don’t push me!" she snapped, her tone a mix of irritation.

“i just did!” you shot back, your heart racing as your blood boiled. you could feel the heat of her presence instantly igniting all those old wounds. 

“whatever, just wait until the end my little sister. I hope your teammates are ready to pick up the pieces when you fall apart.”

the exchange hung heavily in the air, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze as the intensity of the game continued around you. you fought to push out the old memories of isolation and hurt, taut and angry.

“not today, isla,” you muttered under your breath, refocusing on the game, trying to shake off the encounter. deep down, you knew this game was about more than football; it was about proving to yourself and to her that you were no longer the scared girl she once abused. 

you were a force to be reckoned with—a player in your own right.

 

isla shot you a dirty look before returning to her position, the tension prickled in the air. you forced yourself to breathe through it, channeling the storm of emotions into energy for the game. 

ignoring her felt like a mini victory, and you strived to sink back into the rhythm of the match.

the chaos of the field surrounded you—the shouts from your teammates, the roar of the crowd, the pounding of feet on the grass. 

with a swift glance up the pitch, you saw patri breaking through the defense. it was now or never. positioning yourself perfectly, you lifted your foot and sent a precise cross sailing through the air. everything slowed down as you watched the ball arc toward her. 

in the glorious moment that followed, patri met it with her head, sending it soaring into the back of the net. 

“vammoooss!” you shouted, adrenaline exploding through you as the crowd erupted in cheers. overwhelmed with joy, you sprinted toward patri, 

your heart racing. when you reached her, you jumped onto her back, wrapping your arms around her shoulders in a triumphant embrace.

“what a header!” you laughed, squeezing her tightly as she hoisted you up effortlessly. the bond you shared with patri was one of the deepest you had on the team too.

“you played it perfectly!” she beamed, her smile contagious.

the second half kicked off, and when esmee came on, you felt a rush of excitement. she was not just your girlfriend but she was an excellent player. as you positioned yourself on the right wing, you watched with anticipation as esmee was on the left.

suddenly, the joy of the moment was shattered. without warning, isla charged toward esmee, pushing her hard at full force when the dutch girl had the ball. you felt your stomach drop as you witnessed the blatant foul unfold right in front of you. 

esmee hit the ground with a thud, disbelief written all over her face as she looked up at the referee. the whistle blew, but to your disgust, isla received only a simple yellow card.

“that should’ve been a fucking red card…” you mumbled to yourself, unable to hold back the frustration bubbling up within you. you were furious—not just at the referee’s poor judgment but also at the way your sister exploited the situation. 

it was conscious and cruel, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as your fists clenched at your sides.

mapi, who was close enough to overhear, giggled softly, sensing your ire. 

“I think we all saw that, you know?” she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. you shot her a glance, half amused but still seething. 

“not funny,” you replied sharply, trying to keep your focus on the game. you could see esmee slowly getting up, shaking her head in disbelief as she brushed off the grass on her legs. 

a mix of sadness and anger welled within you—it wasn’t just a foul; it was a reminder of how your sister’s actions affected not just you, but your loved ones as well.

it was hard to shake off the fight in your chest. the thought that isla was playing dirty, particularly against someone you cared about, burned intensely. you glanced back at esmee, who shrugged off the hit.

shortly after, the game continued.

the tension in the stadium reached a fever pitch as the clock ticked down to the 87th minute. barcelona had just scored their fourth goal, courtesy of alexia, and the crowd erupted in cheers that reverberated around the pitch. 

just when you thought the game was stabilizing, hell broke loose in a way you never anticipated.

isla broke past ingrid as if she were a mere hurdle, her focus unyielding as she made a reckless dash toward the goal. in that split second, your heart raced—not in excitement, but in horror. that familiar cocktail of hatred and anger surged through you, overwhelming all rational thought. 

you weren’t just standing by anymore; you were compelled to act, to protect what was rightfully yours on the field.

without a second thought, you lunged forward at full speed, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you executed the fastest and cleanest side tackle imaginable. your body struck the ground, sliding into her with precision. isla flew away from the ball, sent sprawling across the pitch as your foot sent it careening toward the crowd, safely out of harm’s way.

the satisfying thud of your tackle felt like a victory, but it was short-lived. as you stood up, energy still crackling in your limbs, you felt a rush of pride—until that pride morphed into a tension that shadowed the field.

isla sprang to her feet, standing right in front of you with rage bubbling in her eyes.

“who the fuck do you think you are?” she spat, invading your personal space, her face a mask of anger and disbelief. her breath was heavy, and you could see the seething hatred reflected in her dark gaze.

you pushed back, adrenaline mingling with defiance. “i’m the one who stopped you from making a fool of yourself! that was a pathetic run!” you felt empowered, knowing you had thwarted her attempt to score, and relished the moment of victory. 

isla laughed bitterly, her voice slicing through the chaos around you. “pathetic? look who’s talking!” 

“you’re a joke, isla! you always have been!” 

“joke?” she echoed, her mouth twisting into a sneer. 

“at least i’m not the one who needs to prove myself every time i step on this field. everyone knows what a failure you are!” the venom in her words stung, and her face was a twisted mirror of the anger that coursed through you.

“maybe if you spent less time abusing people and more time focusing on your own game, you wouldn’t be in this position right now!” you responded, the heat of the moment making you bold. your gaze locked onto hers, refusing to break contact, as if the intensity could somehow ward off her next assault.

“you think this is about me?” isla laughed, the sound cruel and mocking. 

“this is about you, desperate to be seen, desperate for validation!" the derision in her voice felt like a blade, piercing the surface of your confidence.

“this is so fucking hilarious, you’re scared!” you shot back, your voice shaking but resolute. 

“scared that if you lost, you wouldn’t know who you are anymore. you’re obsessed with proving you're the best, shit you abused me for years and that wasn’t enough, maybe you should’ve killed me isla!”

“look at you! the fact that you’re still here makes me sick!” isla ignores what you said, failing to admit her abuse towards you.

“you’re such a bitch, thinking you could go to barcelona and think you’re hot shit—” 

“says the one who chose madrid of all teams, look at your team with zero goals!!” you snapped immaturely, the words spilling out before you could even catch yourself. 

cata tried to pull you away from your sister for the last twenty seconds, but it was no use; your anger suddenly surged, fueling a strength that felt almost uncontrollable. 

at that moment, everything around you turned into a blur as adrenaline surged through your veins.

alexia had noticed the commotion and began to move toward you, determination etched on her face. 

“leave her alone!” athenea shouted at you, stepping between you and your sister.

“score a goal then come back to me, you bitch,” you shot back, your voice laced with defiance as you metaphorically swatted athenea away like she was an annoying fly. 

“don’t speak to her like that!” your sister yelled, pushing you.

the crowd around you watched in shock, drawn into the escalating drama, whispers and gasps cutting through the din of the match.

suddenly, both teams surrounded you, players from both sides trying to break up the heated argument. tensions flared further as a few of your teammates exchanged barbs with madrid players, the atmosphere thick with hostility. 

the referee rushed in to maintain order, but you and your sister remained locked in a fierce gaze, hatred radiating off you like heat from a fire.

“i haven’t seen you in three years—what the fuck? you know what? you’re hopeless. you’ve always been the one holding everyone back! shit, you guys would’ve been up to six if you didn’t make those mistakes you did!!!” isla spat.

“you’re pathetic, isla. maybe shut up and stop pretending you’re even close to being good enough. maybe try watching your balance next time?” you shot back, the memory of the side tackle you had executed flashing before your eyes, where she had fallen face-first into the grass.

“do you think anyone actually believes in you at barcelona? i don't, and i’m positive your captain doesn’t either!” isla laughed, the sound harsh and mocking, as if your words were nothing more than a joke to her. 

“you don’t know me, you don’t know y/n, and what happens at barcelona, go away!” alexia shouted, her voice cutting through the chaotic atmosphere as she rushed towards you, clearly infuriated by what had just transpired. 

she pulled you away from the escalating confrontation, her grip firm and protective, while olga carmona was busy dragging isla away, separating the two of you in a tangle of emotions and disbelief.

as the whistle blew, signaling the end of the match, the rush of emotions hit you like a tidal wave—embarrassment, anger, sadness, and confusion twisted together in an overwhelming torrent. 

your heart raced, every beat echoing your thoughts over and over: why did your sister hate you so much? yes, you had initiated the encounter with a side tackle, but it was just a game! a competition, something you had always loved, something that was supposed to bring joy. 

yet, here you were, feeling like a stranger in your own life, treated as though you were the villain in a twisted narrative that belonged to Isla.

deep down, you knew you weren’t the evil one. it was Isla—the sister who once had control over your life through years of emotional and physical abuse. the memories rushed back, uninvited and unwelcome, as you thought about the day you finally managed to escape at 16, signing with la masia and vowing to break free from the darkness that had enveloped your childhood. 

you had fought tooth and nail to build a life away from that pain, so why, after all these years, did she still hold such a powerful grip over your emotions?

the anger began to bubble to the surface, fierce and unyielding, igniting sparks of determination within you. you promised yourself you would never let anyone, least of all her, treat you like that ever again. yet with that anger came an undercurrent of sadness, an ache that resonated deeper than you wanted to admit. 

you realized, more painfully than ever, that you didn’t know your sister anymore—this Isla was a stranger in your life, and yet the years of shared history felt like a heavy weight pressing down on both of you. how had this happened? it felt surreal, standing on this battlefield of memories past, both of you reduced to adversaries when you should have been allies.

watching teammates embrace amid cheers and celebrations around you, you began to feel profoundly isolated. their laughter rang in your ears like a mocking reminder of the bond you once had with Isla, a bond that was now fractured, strained by the years of resentment and pain that simmered beneath the surface. 

it was as if you were caught in some cruel twist of fate, living out a nightmare where your family ties had turned into shackles, binding you to a painful legacy.

questions raced through your mind like a whirlwind: was there any hope for repair? could you ever bridge the chasm that had formed between you? every thought pulled you deeper into the confusion of your feelings, and you wondered if healing was even possible after so much trauma. 

the night wrapped its heavy cloak around madrid, its bustling streets still alive with the echoes of celebration and the collective energy of the crowd. bright lights illuminated the cobblestones, but inside the dimly lit bus, you felt completely enveloped in darkness.

the soft chatter of ecstatic teammates faded as you made your way to the farthest back seats, seeking solitude and privacy in the midst of a chaotic victory.

as you settled into the back corner, you pulled your hoodie over your eyes, the fabric a barrier from the vibrant world outside. your chest felt tight, a vice slowly tightening with each breath. the floodgates opened, and tears streamed unabated down your cheeks. 

you couldn’t remember the last time you had cried like this, where each sob felt like a physical release, an expulsion of the pain that had been building inside for years. the laughter and joy of your teammates were a distant hum, far removed from the anguish that churned in your heart. even in your secluded corner, memories of your fractured relationship with Isla rushed over you, relentless waves that threatened to pull you under.

“you don’t have a sister. you don’t have a sister,” echoed in your mind, each repetition stinging sharper than the last. the thought sank deep, raw and brutal, leaving you feeling utterly unmoored.

as you rested your head against the cool glass of the window, gazing out at the blurred lights of the city, the world outside became a mere backdrop to your inner turmoil. you could hear muffled conversations, the exuberant energy radiating from your teammates—a stark contrast to your spiraling emotions. 

the victory that had once been something to celebrate now felt meaningless in the face of the tears that wouldn’t stop falling.

just then, the door creaked open on the bus, and vicky stepped in. she was still glowing from the game, her face alight with enthusiasm, but that expression quickly faded when she spotted you in the back. 

concern etched itself across her features, and her heart sank. she could see from the shadows of your hoodie and the position of your body—hunched and closed off—that you were in distress. overwhelmed, vicky turned on her heel and dashed back out of the bus, seeking out esmee, who stood chatting at the entrance with ellie.

“esmee! y/n is on the bus crying,” vicky mumbled, urgency lacing her words. the concern in her voice was palpable; she wanted to keep the team from overwhelming you, sensing how raw your emotion was and how much space you needed.

esmee felt her stomach twist at vicky's words. she had watched you take that fateful departure from the group, and it had left her heart heavy. she knew you better than most, knew when you needed to be left alone and when you needed someone to pull you back from the edge of despair. 

without hesitation, she scooped her things into her bag and sprinted past vicky, urgency pushing her feet to move faster.

the bus interior was dim, the only light provided by the streetlamps outside the window. it was quiet and still, a place where vulnerability thrived. esmee's heart raced as she stepped onto the bus, drawn immediately to the haunting softness of your cries. 

approaching you cautiously, she felt a pang of sadness pool in her chest. settling down across the aisle from you, she could now see the crumpled sleeve you were using as a tissue.

“y/n,” she whispered softly, her voice barely breaking the silence between the two of you. you didn’t respond, lost in the storm of your emotions. esmee took a deep breath, grounding herself as she tried to navigate this delicate moment. 

“can I sit with you?”

the slight shift in your posture told her it was okay. she moved into the seat right next to you, close enough to feel your warmth without infringing on your space. you still kept your eyes fixed on the streaks of light melting into the darkness beyond the window.

“it’s really okay to cry, baby,” esmee said gently, her tone soothing and patient. it was a balm for your frayed nerves, and for a moment, you blinked through the haze of tears. 

“I’m right here with you. you’re not alone.”

you drew a shaky breath, but the tears kept coming. it felt too heavy to be cradled alone in this storm of feelings. esmee reached forward, resting her hand on the empty seat between you, her fingers subtly inviting closeness. 

“I can’t take what you’re feeling away for you,” she continued softly, 

“but I can sit here with you while you feel it. it’s okay to not be okay.” esmee stays realistic. 

the tenderness of her words seeped into the crevices of your heart, and for the first time, you glanced towards her. her eyes were filled with concern, a deep and genuine empathy that made something inside you shift. 

the warmth of her gaze encouraged you to speak, to let out the words you had been holding tight within.

“it’s just… everything,” you managed to choke out between sobs, your voice breaking as the weight of the years spilled from your lips. 

“Isla… everything that happened at the end of the game, everything.”

esmee nodded, completely attuned to your pain. 

“I know it’s changing everything you thought you understood about things. It’s like a dark cloud, isn’t it?” she said, her gaze unwavering as she leaned closer, conveying both solidarity and strength. 

with gentle resolve, esmee shifted a fraction closer, and as if sensing your need for comfort, she brushed her hand against your back, the soft contact grounding and familiar as you lean against her chest. 

it felt as if she was sending warmth through that simple gesture, wrapping you in the safety of her presence. you blinked at her, your tears mixing with the warmth that slowly began to settle in your chest.

“i hate her.” you mumbled. 

“i can see why,” esmee understood. 

esmee gently placed her hand on your waist, her fingers squeezing lightly as if to remind you she was there, physically and emotionally. 

as the tears poured forth, each drop carrying away a piece of your pain, a piece of the suffocating grief that had held you captive for so long, it felt easier to breathe. esmee didn’t shy away from the gravity of what you were feeling; instead, she leaned in closer, her presence a steadfast beacon. 

the familiarity of her touch ignited a sense of safety, drawing you just a bit closer to the shore after feeling lost at sea for so long.

“let it all out,” she encouraged, brushing her thumb softly over the back of your hand that rested limply in your lap. it was a gentle caress that seemed to wipe away some of your doubts, a silent promise that you were moments away from finding solace in companionship. 

“nobody’s judging you here, I promise.”

you clung to her hand, feeling an unexpected safety in that small gesture.the tears continued to flow, but rather than a dam holding them back, it felt like a river running its course, tearing along and removing the debris of old pain.

esmee did not shy away from the intimacy of the moment; she was your shelter from the turmoil, absorbing your sorrow alongside you.

“no one has to know we’re having a moment,” esmee teased gently, her playful spirit shining through despite the gravity of the situation. she added a smirk, trying to raise the corners of your mouth into a semblance of a smile. 

you couldn’t help but chuckle at her light-hearted attempt to coax you from the shadows. laughter bubbled up from the depths of your throat—tentative at first, but it felt slightly like sunlight breaking through the clouds. 

“I might be too emotional for this team,” you replied, your voice still thick with emotion but softened by humor.

“at least we have each other to be emotional with,” esmee offered with sincerity, squeezing your hand gently before letting it settle back on your thigh, a touch that was both supportive and grounding.

as you both sat in the quiet of the bus, the soft sounds of the city thrumming outside, you found solace in the physical closeness and the shared silence after esmee’s words. 

you might not have your biological family, but you have found your family at barcelona. 

masterlist

[aeralux]

"Let's Get You Cleaned Up" - Aegon Targaryen

Summary: After Aegon fucks you breathless (as always), the only logical thing left to do, is to shower. But who is to say he can resist you there? He just wants to clean you up. ModerAegon!au

Warnings: SMUT; oral (m! and f! receiving); quite rough blowjob (but he is sweet about it); dirty language; x reader; oral in the shower

Words: 3.9k

Notes: Female Reader. No other descriptive language is used.

-- aera xx

You're still shaking, your body recovering from Aegon's brutal passion. Anyone could tell what had just happened in that bedroom, and it was so intense, so all-consuming, you felt like you might never walk straight again. Your legs tremble, collapsed on the bed, boneless and spent.

You can still feel him inside you, stretching you, filling you, claiming you in the most raw, animalistic way. Your cunt throbs in time with your racing heart, a dull ache that speaks of the intensity of your lovemaking. You're sore, exhausted, utterly wiped out - but you've never felt more whole.

Your releases mingle on your skin, sticky and warm, marking you as his. You run your fingers through the mess, marvelling at its slickness and volume. You came so hard, so often, lost in the heat of the moment, chasing that high repeatedly until you were both utterly spent.

"I love you," he whispers, his lips brushing against your temple. "More than words can say. More than I ever thought possible."

Aegon lowers his head, capturing your lips in a slow, deep kiss. A promise, a vow, a declaration of forever.

When he finally pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours, his eyes searching yours. "You're my everything," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

Aegon's hands roam your body gently, reverently. He traces the curve of your hip, the dip of your waist, the swell of your breast. "I'm going to make you the happiest woman in the world," he promises, his lips brushing against your cheek.

You gaze up at Aegon through your lashes, a playful pout on your lips. "If you really want to make me the happiest woman on earth, you'd come shower with me," you purr, your fingers trailing lazily down his chest. "I feel quite... sticky."

You glance down at your thighs, coated in your mixed releases. "Ugh, look at the mess you made," you tease. "The least you could do is help me clean up."

You stretch lazily, your body still thrumming with the aftershocks of pleasure. "Unless, of course, you're too lazy for it," you taunt.

You let the suggestion hang in the air, waiting to see how Aegon will react. Will he rise to the temptation, and follow you into the shower like a good little puppy? Or will he sweep you off your feet and carry you to the bathroom himself?

Aegon's eyes darken with lust at your suggestive words, a slow grin spreading across his face.

He leans in, nipping at your lower lip. "Careful now, baby," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Keep teasing me like that, and I might just decide to lick up every last drop of our mess."

Aegon's tongue flicks out, tracing the shell of your ear. "I'd start at your ankles," he purrs, his hand sliding down your thigh, "and work my way up. Slowly. Thoroughly. Until I reach the source of all that sweetness."

He nips at your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine. "By the time I'm done, you'll be begging me to fuck you again. Right there on the bathroom floor, against the cold tiles."

Aegon pulls back, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Or," he says, his voice taking on a note of challenge, "I could always just pick you up and carry you to the shower myself. Hold you close as the water cascades over our skin. Wash every inch of you until you're all clean and fresh and ready for me again."

He raises an eyebrow, a cocky smirk on his face. "What's it gonna be, baby? You gonna let me take care of you?" Aegon waits for your response, his body already responding to the images his words have conjured.

Your breath hitched as his words sent a shiver down your spine. Your messy cunny ached to be filled by him again, the empty throb almost unbearable.

Images of him in the shower filled your mind - wet, glistening, covered in soap. You whined softly, clinging to him like a desperate puppy. You needed his touch, his hands, his cock. Anything.

Gods, he made you absolutely insatiable. "Please," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Aegon groans at your needy whimper, your desperate plea. Fuck, he loves seeing you like this, all wanton and wild-eyed, begging for his touch. It's the biggest fucking turn-on, knowing he's the one who drove you to this point, reduced you to a quivering mess.

"That's it, baby," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "Tell me what you need. Beg me for it."

Aegon's hands roam your body, squeezing, kneading, teasing. He dips his fingers between your legs, feeling the slick heat of your arousal. You're dripping for him, practically gushing, and the knowledge sends a surge of pride through him.

He circles your clit with his thumb, drawing out a gasp from your lips. "You want my cock, don't you?" he purrs, pressing a finger inside you, then another. "Want me to fill you up, fuck you until you can't walk straight."

Aegon pumps his fingers in and out, curling them, hitting that sweet spot deep inside you. You clench around him, trying to pull him further, and he chuckles darkly.

"Greedy little thing," he murmurs, his other hand coming up to pinch and twist your nipple. "You'll never get enough of me, will you? No matter how many times I fuck you, it's never enough." All you can do is nod in response, quiet gasps escaping from your parted lips.

He leans down, biting at your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. A reminder of who you belong to, who owns this body, this heart, this soul.

"I'm going to fuck you in the shower," he promises, his voice low and serious. "Going to bend you over and take you from behind, so hard and deep you'll forget your own name." All you can do is nod in response, 

You walk your fingers down Aegon's chest, marvelling at the hard planes of his muscles. "Mmm, you’re gonna clean me up?" You purr in a breathy tone, your eyes sparkling.

You lean in close, your lips brushing against his ear. "Let me take care of you," you breathe, your hand trailing lower, skimming over his abs. "I want to make you feel good too."

You nip at his earlobe, tugging on it gently. "I'll lick up every last drop," you promise, your voice low and husky. "Make you clean."

Aegon inhales sharply as your teeth graze his earlobe, your words sending a jolt of electricity straight to his cock. Fuck, the way you talk, the promises you make, it's enough to drive a man wild. To reduce him to a panting, desperate beast, ready to do anything, say anything, just to feel your mouth on him.

"Careful, baby," he warns, his voice rough and gravelly. "Keep talking like that, and I might just bend you over the bed and fuck that pretty mouth of yours."

Aegon's hand tangles in your hair, tugging gently, urging you closer. "You want to taste me, don't you?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "Want to wrap those soft lips around my cock and feel it slide down your throat."

He rocks his hips forward, grinding his hardness against your stomach. "I'd fuck your face so hard," he promises, his grip tightening in your hair. "Use your mouth like it's my own personal toy. Make you choke on my dick until you're dizzy and light-headed, begging for mercy."

"But first," he growls, his fingers circling your clit, "I'm going to eat this pretty cunt until you're screaming my name. Make you come on my tongue, my fingers, my cock. Over and over again, until you can't take it anymore."

He kisses you then, hard and dirty, all tongue and teeth and pent-up aggression. A bruising, brutal kiss that leaves you breathless and aching and needing so much more.

"Shower," he rasps against your lips. "Now."

You nod eagerly, a needy whimper escaping your lips as you grind your hips against his hand. "Yes," you breathe, your voice trembling with desire. "Shower…”

He captures your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans, and your breathless little gasps. His tongue delves into your mouth, claiming you, owning you, branding you as his.

When he finally pulls back, you're both panting, your cheeks flushed and your eyes glazed with lust. Aegon stands, effortlessly lifting you into his arms.

He carries you to the bathroom, your bodies still locked together, your skin slick with sweat and arousal. He sets you down on the cool marble floor, never breaking the kiss.

"On your knees," he commands, his voice low and authoritative.

You obey immediately, sinking to the floor. Aegon steps into the shower, turning on the spray. Water cascades over his body, plastering his hair to his head, and running in rivulets down his chest and abs.

"Be a good girl and clean me up," he orders, gathering shampoo in his hands.

"Use your tongue, baby."

The demand hangs in the air, heavy and dripping with promise. Aegon stands under the spray, the water beating down on his skin, waiting for you to obey. Waiting for you to worship him the way he deserves.

You tentatively approach Aegon's throbbing cock, your tongue out in anticipation. Your heart races as you take in the sight of him, standing tall and proud under the spray, water cascading over him.

You start with little kitten licks along his shaft, your tongue darting out to taste his salty skin. You trace the thick veins running along his length, marvelling at the size of him, the hardness.

Encouraged by Aegon's low groan of approval, you wrap your lips around the leaking tip of his cock. You taste his pre-cum on your tongue and can't help but moan, the sound muffled by his thick flesh filling your mouth. 

You start to bob your head, taking him deeper with each pass. Your hands come up to grip his hips for balance as you lose yourself in pleasuring him, in worshipping his cock with your mouth.

Aegon's head falls back with a guttural groan, fingers threading through your hair. "Fuck, just like that," he grunts, his hips rocking into your face. "Take it deeper, baby. Choke on my cock like the good little girl you are."

"That's it, baby," he groans, his voice strained with pleasure. "Take it deeper. Worship my cock like you mean it."

His hips roll forward slightly, pushing his length further into the velvet heat of your mouth. He can feel your tongue swirling around him, tracing the sensitive underside, teasing the weeping slit.

As you eagerly suck on Aegon's throbbing cock, you feel his hands gently threading through your hair. The sensation of his fingers massaging your scalp as he lathers your hair with shampoo makes you moan around his thick shaft, your eyes fluttering closed in pure bliss. Aegon's tender touch, mixed with the dominant way he uses your mouth to pleasure himself, has you absolutely lost in the moment, craving more of his delicious cock.

"Fuck, your mouth feels so good," he pants, his eyes locked on the erotic sight of you on your knees, his cock disappearing between your lips. "Such a good girl for me, so obedient, so eager to please."

He rocks his hips in time with your bobbing head, setting a steady rhythm, a tempo that has him hitting the back of your throat with each thrust. You gag a little, but it only spurs him on, making him thrust deeper, harder.

"Look at me," he commands, his voice rough and authoritative. "I want to see those pretty eyes of yours when you swallow my cock."

He pulls back slightly, letting you catch your breath, before pushing forward again. His cock stretches your lips, fills your mouth, dominates your senses. The taste of him, the weight of him, the sheer size of him - it's overwhelming, consuming, all-encompassing.

You gaze up at Aegon through your lashes, your eyes glossy and unfocused. His hands grip your hair, holding you steady as he shampoos your hair and thrusts into your mouth, his thick cock stretching your lips obscenely. The wet slap of skin on skin echoes off the tiled walls, mingling with your muffled moans. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them back, determined to take every inch of him. 

You can feel your own arousal dripping down your thighs, pooling on the cold, wet floor beneath you. The sharp contrast of the hard tile against your skin only serves to heighten your desire.

You hollow your cheeks, sucking harder, faster, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head of his cock. You can taste the salt of his pre-cum on your tongue, the musky scent of him filling your nostrils. It's intoxicating, overwhelming, driving you wild with lust.

"Such a good little girl," Aegon growls, his hips snapping forward, burying himself deep in your throat. "You love having your pretty mouth used like this, don't you?"

You moan around his length, the degradation and praise only fuelling your desire.

Aegon groans deeply, his cock throbbing in your mouth as he thrusts into your warm, welcoming depths. He savours the sweet submission in your glazed eyes, the way your throat constricts around him as he claims your mouth.

"That's it, baby," he growls, his pace increasing, fucking into your face with abandon. "Take it all. Every fucking inch. You're mine, all mine."

He pulls your head forward, burying his cock to the hilt. You gag and splutter around him, but he doesn't relent, keeping you in place until tears stream down your cheeks.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful like this," he rasps, his thumbs brushing away your tears. "My perfect little cocksucker. Sodesperate for me, so hungry for my cum."

Aegon pulls back, letting you gasp for air, before ramming back in, setting a brutal pace. The wet, obscene sounds of your blowjob fill the steamy bathroom, mixing with his grunts and your muffled moans.

"Gonna fuck this pretty face until you're choking on my cock," he promises darkly, his eyes blazing with lust. "Gonna pump you full of my seed, mark you inside and out as mine."

His balls tighten, his thrusts becoming erratic as he nears his peak. "Get ready, baby," he warns, his voice strained."Gonna cum down your throat. Swallow every last drop like a good girl."

With a final thrust, Aegon explodes, his cock pulsing as he empties himself into your waiting mouth. 

"Fuck, yes!" Aegon roars, his cock erupting in your mouth, pumping load after load of thick, hot cum directly into your stomach. Thick, hot ropes of cum coat your tongue, fill your cheeks, and you swallow greedily, eagerly, determined not to waste a single precious drop. His whole body shudders as he empties himself inside you, wave after wave of ecstasy crashing over him until he's spent, drained, utterly satisfied.

You swallow every drop of Aegon's thick cum, a few pearly white strands clinging to your chin. As you pull back, gasping for breath, you can't help but cough, your throat used and raw from his brutal thrusts.

You gaze up at Aegon through your lashes, eyes big and doe-like. Your eyes are still a bit unfocused, glassy with lust and submission. Shampoo suds cling to your hair, waiting to be rinsed away.

Aegon's chest heaves as he catches his breath, his cock slowly softening in your mouth. He looks down at you, his eyes dark and intense, a slow, satisfied smile spreading across his face.

"Fuck, baby," he rasps, his voice low and husky. "You took my cock so well. Such a good little cocksucker for me."

He reaches down, cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing away the stray drops of cum clinging to your chin. "Look at you," he murmurs, his voice filled with possessive pride. "My perfect little princess, all used and marked up." 

Aegon straightens up, his hands going to your hair, massaging the shampoo into your scalp. "Let's get you cleaned up, baby," he says, his tone gentler now, almost tender. "Can't have you walking around dirty."

He takes his time rinsing the suds from your hair, his fingers never stopping their gentle massage. The warm water cascades over your body, washing away the evidence of your debauchery, but leaving the memories, the imprint of his touch, his possession.

You hum softly as Aegon's strong fingers work the shampoo through your hair, your eyes fluttering closed in bliss. His thorough ministrations send shivers of pleasure racing down your spine, the warmth of the water and his touch melding into pure magic.

"There. All clean. But don't think for a second that we're done, baby."

His lips crash against yours in another bruising kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, staking his claim, marking you as his.

When his lips claim yours in a searing kiss, you meet his passion with your own, your tongue tangling with his in a sensual dance. The taste of him, the feel of him, it's intoxicating, addictive.

But as the kiss deepens, your knees begin to tremble, the ache of kneeling on the hard, unforgiving tiles finally catching up with you. With a soft whimper, you carefully manoeuvre your body, settling onto the cool floor. The change in position allows the warm spray to soothe the dull throb, and you lean back against the wall, letting the water cascade over your shoulders.

Aegon's eyes darken as you lay back, your body relaxed and pliant in his wake. He drinks in the sight of you sprawled there, wet and wanton, completely at his mercy.

He steps out of the spray, water sluicing down his chiselled body, dripping from his hair, and his stubble. "Look at you," he growls, his voice low and rough. "So fucking beautiful, baby. So perfect."

Aegon drops to his knees, his hands skimming up your thighs, parting them. He leans in, his breath hot against your sex. "I can smell how wet you are," he murmurs, his fingers ghosting over your clit. "Fuck, you're dripping for me, aren't you?"

Without warning, he dives in, his tongue delving into your folds, lapping at your essence. He groans at the taste of you, heady and sweet, pure ambrosia.

"Taste so fucking good," he grunts, his tongue circling your clit, flicking, teasing, driving you wild. "Could eat this pretty cunt all day."

His fingers join the fray, plunging into your heat, curling, stroking, hitting that spot that makes you see stars. He sets a relentless pace, his tongue and fingers working in tandem, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Gonna clean you up, baby," he growls, his words vibrating against your sensitive flesh. "Gonna swallow every drop of your sweet cream."

You whimper and gasp as Aegon's skilled tongue and lips work their magic on your throbbing pussy. Your fingers tangle in his wet hair, tugging him closer, urging him deeper. "Oh gods, Aegon… Yes, more!" You mewl wantonly, your back arching off the slick tiles. Pleasure sparks through your nerves with each flick and swirl of his tongue.

The lewd sounds of his feasting echo obscenely in the steamy bathroom. You writhe and buck shamelessly against his face, too lost in ecstasy to care how desperate and needy you must look. All that matters is chasing more of this bliss he's giving me.

"Please, Aegon, I'm so close…" You whine, eyes rolling back as his tongue zeroes in on your aching clit. Your thighs quiver and clench around his head, your hips rolling feverishly. You can feel the telltale tingle building low in your belly, coiling tighter and tighter.

Aegon growls against your pussy, his fingers digging into your thighs as he devours you. The vibrations of his voice against your sensitive flesh make you buck and moan, your hips grinding against his face, seeking more, more, more.

He laps at your clit, sucking it into his mouth, his tongue flicking rapidly. At the same time, he pushes two fingers deep inside you, crooking them just so, rubbing against that spot that makes you see stars.

"That's it, baby," he rasps, his words muffled, his voice dripping with lust. "Ride my face. Fuck my mouth. Let me hear how good I make you feel."

Aegon can feel you tightening, your walls fluttering around his fingers. He doubles his efforts, his tongue and fingers working in tandem, pushing you to the brink.

"Gonna cum for me?" he asks, his voice a dark promise. "Gonna soak my face? Paint me with your cream?"

He seals his lips around your clit and sucks hard, flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves. His fingers piston in and out, in and out, hitting that perfect spot with each thrust.

Your moans echo off the tiled walls, your body writhing under his relentless assault. Pressure builds deep in your belly, coiling tighter and tighter with each flick of his tongue, each thrust of his fingers.

"That's it, baby," Aegon rasps, his voice rough with lust. "Cum for me. Let go. Give me everything."

With a keening cry, you shatter, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your thighs clamp around his head, your hips bucking wildly as you ride out the intense waves of pleasure.

Aegon laps it all up, his tongue greedily licking and sucking, prolonging your climax until you're boneless and spent, collapsed against the wall, gasping for breath.

You try to catch your breath as your release trickles down your inner thighs, leaving a sticky trail. With each inhale and exhale, your ample breasts rise and fall, the soft flesh jiggling enticingly.

Reaching out, you gently caress Aegon's cheek, silently praising him for bringing me such exquisite pleasure. Your fingertips trace the sharp line of his jaw, the stubble that has grown there, before delving into his damp hair.

You pull him into you, capturing his lips in a slow, deep kiss, pouring all your gratitude and adoration into the press of your mouth against his. Aegon responds eagerly, his kiss consuming, all-encompassing, leaving you breathless once more.

As you break apart, you gaze up at him through your lashes, a soft, sated smile on your lips. "I love you," you murmur.

Aegon's heart swells at your words, your tender touch, the love shining in your eyes. He leans into your caress, his eyes fluttering closed, savouring the feel of your fingers in his hair, the soft press of your lips against his.

When you pull back, he gazes down at you, his expression open, vulnerable in a way he rarely allows himself to be. "Love you too, baby," he murmurs, his voice low and rough with emotion. "So fucking much."

He rests his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. At this moment, the rest of the world falls away - there is only you, only this. The love, the connection, the rightness of it all.

"You're mine," he whispers fiercely, his arms wrapping around you, holding you close. "Mine to love, mine to cherish, mine to protect. Always."

Aegon seals his vow with a kiss, deep and passionate, pouring all his love, all his devotion into the press of his lips against yours. He loses himself in you.

"Now let's get clean… and actually shower this time," he says with a chuckle, holding his hand out to you and pulling you up. "And then we can order food and watch whatever you want," Aegon murmurs against your neck and places a kiss in the crook of your neck.

[mrgrimreaper1]

Dude this is sick, reminds me of this cool different Undertale multiverse idea I've made one day.

[this whole Multiverse happens like, years down the line, pretty much a time skip AU causing error and ink to be much stronger for some reason, there's a reason why I scrapped it a lot of the story is me making a scenario in my head and struggling to explain why it happens the way it does.]

In it error sans finally managed to end ink, and once he does it he regrets it later on because of the boredom that come from no one on his level to really attempt to fight back against him destroying things, and since there was no one making Another AU protector for so long, he needed to slow down on destroying the AU's because of [reasons that don't really make any sense for his canon character to do, because he would probably destroy them all regardless of how he would feel about it afterwards, which is why I've made this a completely different multiverse altogether AND scrapped it.]

Because in this MV (MultiVerse) he would die of absolute boredom if he actually destroyed everything in one swoop, so he needed to balance destroying things and then wait for creators to create more anomalies for him to destroy, which he finds really annoying, so in his absolute bored out of his mind state, he makes the choice to create something himself.

A replacement for ink that could rival him and force creators to work overtime and make more anomalies for him to destroy, he takes a pen and paper and sketches a sans design heavily based on ink, which is why this version of "ink" is named "sketch!sans" with nicknames like "sketchy, sketched, sketchup." [Ketchup joke, made by either classic sans or fresh sans, haven't really chosen who did it, could be any Sans', really.]

Then to bring this character to life error after a while of trying he would get really frustrated, because he doesn't know how to do it, making him throw the drawing away.

Causing it to fall down to the bottom of ink's doodle sphere where the remains of the destroyed AU's remained or something causing sketch sans to actually be created...

[...This only works here because I reworked what happens once you destroy an au, in this multiverse once you destroy an AU, the Portal to said AU in the doodle sphere turns into magic ink and it remains at the bottom of the doodle sphere for the rest of eternity, but thanks to how many AU's we're destroyed they accumulated and mixed together, making a huge mess.]

Thanks to the ink being mixed together this version of ink sans would come out with a lot defects, he would come out of the ink "colorless" or just "black, white and grey." Being straight up a blank Canvas, a husk of what the real ink is supposed to be, so a lot of his emotions were muddled and he didn't act like what you'd expect ink to act like...

...Causing sketch sans to be very insecure? Maybe, his whole character arc that I've had planned for him is him trying to live up to error's expectations and straight up trying his damnest to act like ink would, causing a lot of identity crisis's until he met the star Sanses and they explain to him why he simply can't get his whole attempt to imitate ink right, so they introduce him to the vials ink used to act the way he did, then sketch would start going after said vials to act more like ink, as he kept finding and drinking more of these vials he would slowly and surely becoming a lot more like ink and he would regain his colors with each vial, with error constantly encouraging this to make him keep going and get the real ink back, thanks to error's inability to care for sketch's whole identity crisis causing sketch to reach his breaking point when he meets Cross!Sans and his whole thing and experience with identity crisis's and making him realize how abusive this relationship with error is, causing him to either cut ties with error or just become his own person and completely ignore error's wishes, and just deal with him without the pressure of having to act like ink, or whatever, I don't have a proper ending to it.

It was nice getting this off my chest and head.

ERROR!INK (ASYNC SANS)

ok so, finally came with a full idea of this character:D an error version of ink. i'll be listing some facts and clarifications about him to prevent any kind of confusion, just under the cut!

i wanted to write his entire backstory on here but it ended up being a little too much longer than i expected so maybe i'll make a comic about it- or no (wheheh). but basically everything started when he also tore his soul but appeared in the anti-void instead of a normal void that would eventually become his doodle sphere

now, his design choices

he's wearing the first ever clothes he used in His Story comic

his eyes colors were chosen thanks to their inverts, those specific magenta and blue are the opposites of green and yellow, the first colors he experienced in his original story

the marks on his body are white to represent the meaning of the few white garments in his original design: "The white layer underneath says how he attempts to hide who he is, but his emptiness sometimes shines through."

his "tattoos" are no longer illegible when he turns into an error, they become common binary codes (the font used for these is Note This, ink's official font)

the red (magenta) eye is on the right side to somehow symbolize the blood his "scar" would cause

there is no yellow on his clothes to show how secretive he is, as he constantly hides half his face in his scarf

personality traits and extra facts!

as said before he is someone incredibly reserved, mostly because while being in his 5 senses he is afraid of his self without his doses of paints and tries to not attract attention

nonetheless, he likes being around people, he would probably travel across universes to hang out hidden in crowded places

the "specific situations" mentioned on the first part of the sheet refer, for the most part, to self-defense. but there may be other situations where he simply creates stuff that people ask for from time to time

compared to his original counterpart, he will take much longer to drain as he'll rarely use his powers

if he talks for too much time he'll glitch for an instant and forget everything he was saying. that is one of the reason he doesn't enjoy talking so much

when he's in the doodle sphere he often has momentary traumatic hallucinations, so he tries to leave that place as quickly as possible

these previously mentioned hallucinations also happen in panic situations or as a sign that the ingested paints are no longer effective

okie dokie i think that's all for now<3 if anything comes to my mind later or anytime i'll try to post it or smth! hope you like it🫶

ink sans by @/comyet

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

a house in the middle of nowhere l Joel Miller

Summary: you and Joel went on patrol together, nothing went your way

Warnings:  angst, guns, switchblade, killing people, allusions to sexual abuse, blood

A/N: your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

# 1/2

"We should be reaching that building in a few minutes."

You nodded and didn't slow down when you heard Joel's footsteps behind you. The leaves crunched under your shoes and the air in the forest was pleasantly cool. It was as if you had done this before.

The flu that had been sweeping through Jackson for a few weeks now had also reached the people patrolling the area. Soon, Tommy had no choice but to ask you and Joel to start working together again. 

Despite his concerns, he was pleasantly surprised - you were a great team. That's why he recommended you check out one of the buildings, which was a bit further from your trail.

"Looks good." You said, stopping in front of a small house standing near the end of the forest.

"Yeah. Too good." Joel mumbled. "Do you remember that..."

"I remember." You interrupted him, because your thoughts immediately drifted to a certain house you had found on your way to Jackson. "I saved your ass that time." You smiled, noticing the grimace on Joel's face.

"Keep telling yourself that, darling." he mumbled, heading towards the entrance.

But this time it was safe. The house was small and it took you a few minutes to check all the rooms. Apart from a few canned goods, a few old blankets and a dead bat in the bedroom, everything seemed long forgotten.

"This will be a good base for further patrols." Joel noted as you spread your things in the living room with the intention of spending the night there. "Once we check the area and make sure everything is safe."

You sat down on the dusty couch. The feeling that all this seemed strangely familiar to you filled you since your first joint patrol with Joel.

He didn't press you, he wasn't pushy. The safe distance you wanted to maintain was perceived by him, although you felt his gaze on you many times. You weren't without blame either. Your eyes often lingered on his broad shoulders for a few seconds longer than necessary. You missed him.

"We'll eat something and you can lie down." Joel announced, pulling sandwiches out of his backpack. "I'll take the first watch."

"There's water in the bathroom. Cold, but it's there." You noticed, doing the same as he did.

"Maybe the house is connected to a well. It's hard to tell right now." You handed him a cup of coffee. "Are you going to the party on Saturday?"

You looked at Joel, surprised. "Since when are you interested in parties in Jackson?"

He shrugged and chewed a bite of sandwich. "Ellie asked."

"Oh, did she say anything else?"

"That this new guy, Walsh, asked her about you."

Warmth crept up the back of your neck and you hoped Joel didn't notice your confusion. You weren't dating anyone, you didn't want to. But you knew what Miller was talking about. You and Walsh had been on a few patrols together, and you'd been seen together in the city too.

"Your coffee's getting cold, Joel." you replied, cutting off the discussion.

The room was filled with Joel's quiet snoring. You had been sitting by the window for almost two hours, observing the area. The first rays of sunlight were breaking through the treetops, and you only noticed a few squirrels and a hare.

Your spine was slowly starting to hurt, so you got up quietly and, trying not to wake Joel, you went to the door. Maybe you should have let him know you were leaving, but you saw how much he needed sleep. The lack of people meant that you were almost always outside Jackson, so that those who had families could rest or recover.

You quietly closed the door behind you and inhaled the fresh air. With your finger still near the trigger, you moved forward. The area was quiet, the fog was rising here and there between the trees, and even the birds were just waking up from their sleep.

An unexpected rustling behind you gave you goosebumps. You turned around sharply and saw a pair of rabbits disappearing behind the bushes.

"You scared me." You mumbled to yourself smiling "Don't do that again."

Then you heard a completely unfamiliar voice "I promise I won't do that again, doll."

You turned around sharply and saw the man behind you, then you felt something hit you and darkness engulfed you.

Something was tugging at you. You felt your wrists being tied. Some pushy hands searched all over you, and then someone patted your cheek.

"Doll, wake up!" the same voice, unfamiliar to you "Mike, you hit her too hard."

More steps and someone crouched down next to you. He brushed your hair away from your face.

"Such a pretty face, and look what you did." the first voice hissed "I hope you didn't break her nose."

"Do you need her nose for something?" Mike sneered and patted you on the cheek a few times "Hey! Get up!"

You moaned quietly and opened your eyelids. You almost immediately wanted to back away, but there was a tree behind you, and two men in front of you, who were staring at you with interest.

"Morning, doll." one of them greeted you with a smile "I'm Patrick, and you?"

You pressed your hands together violently, trying to get as far away from them as you could. It was impossible, you knew that. 

Fuck! How could you be so careless? You had been with someone last time, but now... 

You thought about the sleeping Joel. Maybe you had at least managed to get far enough away from the house that they wouldn't find him so quickly. Hopefully.

"Hey, bitch!" Mike nudged you in the shoulder, and your gaze immediately went to him. "Can you talk? I didn't knock your teeth out, did I?" he cackled as if he had told a good joke.

"No." You replied quietly.

"Good start." Patrick nodded, his eyes lazily moving over your face. There was something strange about him, something slippery and indecent. "Will you tell us what you're doing here, doll?"

"I was walking."

"You were walking." Patrick repeated after you, reaching out and pulling a blade of grass from your hair, there was something in his gesture that gave you shivers "Pretty girls like you shouldn't walk alone. Is anyone with you?" 

You shook your head and Mike immediately spat in the grass.

 “She's lying!” he growled, standing up. “I'm sure someone's nearby.”

Patrick frowned. 'Come on, I'll help you.' He grabbed you by the arm and pulled you to your feet, then pinned you against a tree. 'Who's with you?' he hissed. 

'I'm alone.' you repeated. 

'Wrong answer.'

You flinched nervously as a knife blade flashed before your eyes. It was the same switchblade that Joel had given you. You carried it with you, they had to find it when they searched you. 

“Listen to me carefully, doll.' Patrick moved the blade to your chest and soon you saw the first button on your shirt pop off, then the second. 'You'll tell us what we want, okay? Be a good girl. Maybe then I'll be gentle with you, huh? I wouldn't want to hurt you...' he made a sad face as if he was really sorry, two more buttons popped off. 'But I haven't had a warm pussy in a while, I might be too hard for you. Unless you like that? Do you like it, doll?"

"I'm alone." You managed to choke out, trying to keep your voice from shaking. "I swear. I... I got away from the group."

"That bitch is lying, I can feel it!" Mike growled, looking around the area. "Do what you have to and let's get out of here."

Patrick watched you closely. His gaze slid down to your chest, which was rising rapidly with every breath. Your bra peeked out from under your shirt, the outline of your breasts must have been clearly visible to him.

"You could have been good, doll..." he whispered. "We could have been something great."

"Please..." you groaned.

At that moment you heard a shot. You didn't know where it came from, but you saw Mike stagger and fall hard to the ground. In an instant Patrick looked up, then looked at you.

"Who is it?!" he growled angrily, pressing you against the trunk so hard that you felt something stab you painfully in the back.

"Your Death." you gasped.

Another shot and warm blood splattered on your face. You slid to the ground gasping for air. Patrick's body lay beneath your legs. Strong hands grabbed your arms and then your face.

"Are you okay?"

Joel!

You nodded your head violently. He noticed the bonds on your wrists and when he looked around he saw the switchblade lying in the grass. He quickly cut the rope. In a second your arms were wrapped around his neck and a quiet cry escaped your throat.

"It's okay, I've got you." he whispered, stroking your hair and back "You're safe."

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist

[sturnina]

Rule number one

Dealer!Chris x Fem!reader

— tags;; drug use, a lot of curse words, no use of y/n, arguments, angst

— wc;; 1.7k

— author‘s note;; my take on dealer!chris since I find it concerning that people think it‘s a good idea for him to be a druggie, hope you enjoy <3

Rule number one is clear. You are aware of it, Chris is aware of it, everyone knows. The dealer does not take their own stuff. Because what happens then? It goes down way too fast. It is too dangerous.

Everyone knows. With an almost infinite supply of more, always more, it is a risk you cannot take.

And yet, you’re here. Standing in front of Chris, with a deep and dark pit in your stomach. Fuck. His eyes are clearly dilated, and his heart is racing—you can feel it through his shirt when you press your hand against his chest. He mutters something incoherent, a smile dripping from his lips.

“What was it?” you mumble, more to yourself. At least you’re alone with him, away from his brothers or customers. “What did you take?” you ask again, louder this time while gripping his chin and forcing him to look at you.

No. Wrong approach. Violence doesn’t help. But fuck, you need to know what it was.

“Was it K? Ketamine? Chris, did you take Ketamine?” you ask, slowly rubbing his shoulders. Oh, please let it be Ketamine.

He laughs and launches forward, embracing you tightly. “Shush Ma, you’re making me all worried,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your head. “It’s alright. It will be alright, trust me.”

The pit in your stomach deepens while the machinery in your mind runs at full speed. Racing heartbeat. Emotional closeness. Dizziness maybe? From the way he is swaying, you can tell he is more than a little lightheaded. **

“What do you feel?” you ask him, pulling away a little to look at him. “How are you feeling? Are you disoriented? Drowsy?”

Chris shakes his head, sighing deeply. “Doesn’t matter,” he mutters, his voice getting a slight slurred edge.

“Do you have a headache? Or an increased appetite?”

“No?” His voice is disinterested—he clearly could not care less. Unfortunately, this is all you care about at the moment. Increased body temperature, sweating, slurred speech…

“Chris, did you take MDMA?”

“Mmh…” he says, pulling you close again and peppering kisses to your head. “No, it was a longer name…”

“Ecstasy, Chris.” A slight undertone of desperation lies in your voice. How does he not remember the simplest things? “MDMA is Ecstasy. Did you take it or not?”

“Why does it matter?” he asks, pulling away to look at you. His movements are unpredictable and confused—clearly, he does not see the way you do right now. Even if just through his energy. “Come on, let’s go back inside and have fun. Dance with me, pretty girl, yeah?”

He grabs your hands, but you refuse. “You can’t go back in there,” you say sternly.

“But the party isn’t over,” he complains. “I still gotta dance… and deal.”

“You can’t. Deal, I mean.” A lump forms in your throat at the confused look he shoots at you through half-lidded eyes.

“What? Sure I can! Look, I still have-” The second he pulls out a small bottle of pills, you snatch it out of his hand. And you were right—it’s X, MDMA, clarity, whatever you want to call it.

“Chris you have to stop dealing.”

“I know you’re always worried about me, Ma,” he says with a sloppy grin. “But you know I have everything under control. No one’s going to get too dangerous.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” you sigh, stepping closer. “Chris, you have to stop dealing. You broke rule number one. You have a practically infinite supply of drugs, and you just started taking them. What do you think is happening now?”

He frowns, clearly having difficulties concentrating. Fuck, how long does Ecstasy last? You go through your memory, trying to find anything about it. From one up to… was it five? Six hours? Fuck.

“We’re going,” you say, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the room you searched for shelter from the party.

The second you step outside, into the main area, the music clogs up your ears. Smoke burns in your lungs, mixed with the smells of alcohol and sweat. You’ve never been a fan of parties like this, but you came with Chris more and more often, wanting to look out for him—even though you wouldn’t be able to do anything in an extreme case.

But today, you’re infinitely grateful for having come with him. Who else would force him to go home and not take another pill? His brothers don’t even know what’s going on behind the scenes, he’s taken care of that.

Back at your car, you force him into the passenger seat. Now looking at him, restlessly playing with the decoration on your glovebox, you’re almost relieved he did it. Just because it means he has to stop dealing. As soon as he’s sober, he’ll realise that too.

After getting into the driver’s seat, you lock the doors and reach out a hand. “Give me your phone.”

“Huh?” he asks, pulling out his iPhone.

“Not that one. The burner one.”

Frowning deeply, he crosses his arms. “No.”

“Yes. Chris, do it.”

“No way. That’s the only contact I have with customers and the supplier,” he protests.

“Exactly. Hand it over, I’m not asking you again.” Your fingers move twice in your direction, a sign everyone knows. Come on, you think, don’t make this more complicated.

“A’ight,” he mutters, pulling it out of his back pocket and going back to fiddling with something he found in your car. You couldn’t care less what it is.

“Good,” you mutter, quickly chucking the phone into the backseat from where you’ll pick it up later. For now, you need to get Chris home.

The drive back is silent, except for when he occasionally starts humming a melody and then abruptly stops, grinding his teeth.

“Don’t do that,” you mutter, watching him out of the corner of your eye.

“Stop telling me what to do,” he replies, staring ahead like a pouty kid. “I can take care of myself.”

“Clearly,” you scoff, a wave of anger bubbling up in your chest.

How could he be so careless? How could he possibly have thought that taking drugs as a goddamn drug dealer is okay? That it works? He knows the dangers of every drug. He’s seen people get completely wasted, slowly destroying their lives and the ones of the people around them.

Why would he do this to you? To his brothers? His friends and family?

Tears are burning in your eyes and you blink rapidly to focus your gaze on the street.

“Ma? ‘re you crying?” Chris asks. His voice is softer but clearly slurred now. The drug seems to be kicking in.

You open your mouth to say something, but not a single sound escapes your lips.

“Why are you crying, love?” he whispers.

“Why would you do that?” you finally ask. “You know drugs. You know what they do. You know they destroy lives. Fuck, Chris, what’s going on? Why did you take it?”

The car is silent, and nervosity settles in the pit of your stomach.

“Chris…?” you ask again. “Why did you take it?”

“I js wanted to try,” he mumbles. It’s clearly not the only answer, but now is not the time to figure out what exactly led him to be so stupid.

After stopping the car in front of your house—you won’t let Nick and Matt see him in this state—, you force Chris outside, into the cool air. He doesn’t react, even as you start shivering. You quickly fetch the burner phone from the backseat and lead Chris inside, pushing him through the front door and to the couch. He seems restless and refuses to sit down, so you let him wander around.

While he’s still in his drug-induced haze, you sit down at the kitchen island and open the flip phone. The first number is his suppliers’, you know that, saved simply as G. It rings only once before he picks it up.

“You run out this quickly?” he asks. No greeting, no nothing.

“No,” you reply. The tension is palpable, even through the phone.

“Who are you?” G asks cautiously.

“You will not supply C anymore,” you say, careful not to use Chris’s name. “Do you understand me?”

“Tell me who you are and I’ll consider,” he repeats.

“That’s none of your business. If you sell to Chris-” Fuck, fuck fuck. “If you sell to him again, I will find out and send the police after you.”

The guy chuckles. “Easy. I’m sure we can talk about this. You his girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, running a hand over your face.

“You worried about him or something?”

“Obviously,” you scoff. “I don’t want him to become an addict. That’s normal, I fear.”

“He wouldn’t. I’ve been supplying to him for a while, he does it for the money, not the drugs,” G says, apparently unimpressed. “Just stay out of his business, yeah? This is no place for little girls.”

“You listen to me, you little fuck,” you hiss, jumping up from the chair. “I know who you are and from where you supply. I know the faces of all the little dealers around here, and they’re all connected to you. I know what parties you go to, and what people you know. I’ve seen you. And I will get you if you deal with my boyfriend again. He took Ecstasy today. And trust me, I know what happens next. I’ve seen it happen. So if one of us ever hears from you again, you will be caught, I promise.”

A stunned silence fills the phone. The only sounds you hear is the clock on the kitchen wall ticking… and heavy breathing behind you.

You whip your head around. Chris stares at you with confused eyes. He reaches out for the phone, but his movements are too uncoordinated, and you dodge his hand.

“Is that G?” he asks, slurring his words more than before. “Why would you- what are you doing?”

“Making sure you don’t go down that path,” you say sternly.

Since you have no more to say to G, and you don’t care to hear his answer, you hang up the phone and guide Chris upstairs, leaving the burner phone on the kitchen counter.

“Come on, let’s go to bed.”

“But ‘m not tired,” he protests, still energised from the Ecstasy.

This is going to be a long night.

masterlist

[torturedlexdepartment]

Church

Rafe Cameron x fem reader

Author's note: I remember I wrote this for @sugarcoatedstarkey a few years ago 🙈 can't believe we forgot about this one 😵‍💫🫠 wish Rafe would take ME to church 🙃

Warnings: SMUT, reader is Ward's personal assistant, oral (fem and male receiving), sex in the workplace

Summary: sparks fly when you and Rafe stay after hours in the office to work on a project

You had worked at Cameron Development for over six months. You worked as Ward Cameron’s personal assistant. His son, Rafe also worked closely alongside you. You guys spent a lot of time together. He was very sweet to you and it seemed like he was being flirty sometimes. But you didn’t want to just assume the boss’s son was hitting on you, so you never pursued anything.

It was a Friday afternoon and Ward had sent everyone else home early. He instructed Rafe and you to stay behind and finish up a very important business proposal. You were a little excited to hear it because you had never been left completely alone in the building with just Rafe. You guys worked quickly and things were almost done. You just needed to get everything printed off and ready to present.

“I’m gonna go wait on all this stuff to print.” You let him know and he nodded as you headed to the copy room. You were standing over the printer waiting patiently for it to be done. It was an older machine and took forever to do anything. You didn’t understand why the office didn’t buy a new one. You knew the Cameron’s were loaded. You popped your head up quickly when you heard Rafe come into the room.

“You’re gonna hate me but I accidentally printed everything out of order.” You jokingly groaned at him. You knew that meant that you guys were going to have to shuffle through the huge stack of papers erupting from the printer and put it all back together the right way. Rafe started grabbing what was complete and laid it out on the table behind you.

You went back and forth between helping him scramble things back together and grabbing stuff as it came off the machine. You accidentally bumped into him a couple of times as you were both trying to go as fast as possible so you could go home for the weekend. You guys laughed and brushed it off until your hand grazed his when you both went to grab the same page. You saw something change in his eyes.

He quickly reached out to grab your face and bring you in for a kiss. You could feel the neediness in the kiss, you could sense that he wanted to do this for a long time. His lips were soft and you were intoxicated with the smell of his cologne. You pulled away for a second, questioning the situation.

“Rafe..” You looked up at him with a concerned look on your face. “Your dad will fire me.” He laughed and closed the gap in between you.

“What my dad doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” He smirked and you smiled as he reattached his lips back to yours. His hands immediately went to cup your ass, rolling your hips into him earning a whine from you. You had dreamed of this countless times but now that it was actually happening, it was like fireworks were going off in your mind. He gripped the back of your hair tightly as he swiped his tongue across your bottom lip, begging for access. You let him have it.

After a while of teasing each other with your tongues, you let your hand trail down the front of his body until it met the hem of his pants. Your hand started dancing around the outline of his cock through his pants and he bit your lip when you finally made contact with it. He was hard as a rock already and you were highly pleased with yourself. You pulled away from his kiss and slid down until you were on your knees.

“I’ve thought about this a lot.” You said to him as you undid his buttons and slowly slid his pants down until his cock slapped up to his stomach. Holy shit, you thought to yourself. He looked down smirking at your reaction, you were definitely fueling his already huge ego. He was huge. This was going to be a challenge but you were up for it.

“Me too Y/N, I’ve wanted to-” He gasped the second your tongue made contact with his head. You swirled it around the tip to tease him before hollowing out your cheeks, taking him all the way in your mouth. “My fucking god.” He used his hands to grip all of your hair, making sure it was out of your way as you went to work on him. You traced every vein on his cock as you bobbed your head up and down. It was almost too much for you to take when you felt him hit the back of your throat but you powered through. The sounds he was making made you soak your panties. You always got off on pleasing others. “I’m gonna cum.” He groaned as you felt him twitch in your mouth. And then his spurts of hot wet cum spilled straight down your throat. You sucked him dry before releasing him from the grips of your mouth.

He reached down quickly pulling you back up before picking you up and setting you on the printer, which was still working. He kissed you once before moving his attention to your neck. The fire between your legs burning hotter and hotter.

“Rafe, just fuck me already.” His hand went up under your skirt to grab your underwear and start tearing them down your legs.

“Absolutely not baby girl. Not before I return the favor.” You sighed heavily as he slid down your body and pushed your legs apart. You benched your impatience when you felt his hot breath over your aching pussy. You almost fell off the printer when he sucked on your clit. He used both of his hands to steady you where you were sitting while he ate you like you were his favorite dessert. Your hands tugged at his hair as you felt your orgasm bubbling in your lower stomach.

“It feels so good Rafe, don’t stop.” He moaned into your pussy and flicked your clit even faster, not something you thought was even possible. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you let yourself release, your slick coating his beautiful face. Your whole body was vibrating as you came down from your high. His tongue finally left your heat and he left tender kisses on the inside of your thighs before coming back up to face you.

You pulled him by his collar to kiss him deeply. The sweet taste of yourself still very prominent on his lips. He broke away from the kiss, pulled you off the machine, and spun you around so that you were facing it. He pulled your skirt up out of the way just enough so he had access. He wrapped his left hand around your throat as he pulled you into his chest. He used his free hand to shove himself inside of you. You both moaned simultaneously.

He started thrusting into you at a slow pace at first, his hand still tightening around your throat as you begged for more. He placed a kiss on the side of your head before moving his hand and shoving your body down onto the printer. He gripped your hair as he started pounding into you harder.

“Fuck you’re so tight baby, I’m not gonna last.” He groaned out as he slid in and out of you with ease. He was stretching you out so good, this was so much better than all the fantasies you played out in your head about him. The tip of his cock had found that special part inside of you that had you a whimpering mess underneath him. You gripped the sides of the printer like your life depended on it.

You two hadn’t even noticed that in the chaos of you fucking, you knocked all the freshly printed papers on the ground. A mess you would have to deal with later. You started to feel yourself clench around him and he started to slow down, trying to savor the moment. He was close too, his thrusts were becoming sloppy.

“Rafe, fuck I’m gonna cum.”

“It’s okay baby, I’m right behind you.” He thrusted into you a couple more times before you were pulsating around him, causing him to shoot his cum deep inside of you. He leaned over you for a few moments, trying to catch his breath.

“Fuck Y/N, why haven’t we done this sooner?” He pulled himself out of you, pulling his pants back up before finding your panties for you.

“Because I was waiting for you to make a move.” You turned to face him with a cheeky grin.

“Well next time I won’t keep you waiting beautiful.” He leaned down, kissing you gently.

“Next time?” You asked.

“I mean if you want to. I personally can’t wait to fuck you in every square inch of this office.” He winked at you and you playfully shoved him away.

“We’ll see Cameron.” You teased as you both went to work cleaning up the mess all over the floor.