#Roll Through the Ages: The Bronze Age

[karamazovposting]

Considering tattoos became fashionable between European aristocrats in the late 19th century and Tsar Nicholas II himself had a massive dragon tattoo on his right arm (that he got done during a trip in Nagasaki in the early 1890s), it's not completely anachronistic to imagine Dmitri Karamazov as having one or multiple tattoos.

Do whatever you want with this information, I'm just saying.

[androxys]

The idea that comics are constantly rebooting, or have too many characters, or are too lore-laden to be accessible to new readers is a statistical error. Legion of Super-Heroes Georg is an outlier and

[piggytfs]

Colton had always seemed like the perfect guy. He was in the prime of his life with a jacked physique, smoldering blue eyes, and a cocky smirk that made both men and women swoon. He was the king of the gym, the star of his university’s football team, and the kind of guy who turned heads wherever he went. Sometimes, this was an awesome thing. Like when the cheerleader babes would eye him up like a sexy slab of all American beef. He loved to show off his muscles for them, listening to them giggle and squeal.

However, he didn't like being ogled by just anyone. Some dudes were oblivious to the hints he would drop: that he was in no way, shape, or form interested in their pathetic, gay attention.

Which was why he hated the way his doctor, Dr. Reynolds, kept looking at him as if he was about to blow a disgusting load into his XL work khakis.

The older man was always too touchy during checkups, his eyes lingering just a little too long on the younger man's biceps and firm pecs. It made Colton’s skin crawl. As he sat on the exam table, dressed in nothing but his compression shorts, he felt those eyes scanning over his muscles again. Dr. Reynolds was eyeing Colton's girthy package, moments away from drooling.

“Man, I wish you’d stop looking at me like that,” Colton muttered hatefully under his breath.

A chill ran down his spine. The air in the room seemed to shift — something he couldn't perceive, but he could not deny that something had begun to change. Dr. Reynolds blinked, his expression becoming blank and flat, before his lips curled into an amused grin.

“Looking at you like what, Colton?” the doctor asked, his voice laced with condescension. He had never spoken so haughtily before. “Like I’d ever be interested in you?”

Colton frowned. That wasn’t right. Dr. Reynolds had definitely been checking him out less than a second ago. The man was a fat perv who drooled over his hot athlete patients, this wasn't far from the normal experience. “Dude, you were just—”

Colton's stomach lurched so violently that he couldn't stop the URRRRRRRRRRRRRP that erupted out of his mouth. A deep, guttural gurgle started to brew inside his belly. He gasped, gripping his gut as an unbearable heat spread through his body. Sweat collected on his forehead, dripping down the sides of his body as his pits became slick and hairy. His skin tingled, rippled, then started to sag under the new weight.

He stared in horror at the full body mirror propped up against the wall, watching as his reflection warped before his very eyes. His sculpted pecs deflated, drooping into soft, flabby moobs. Curls of dark, wiry hair began to sprout across his aging skin. His tight six-pack was swallowed by lard as thick rolls of fat spilled over the waistband of his shorts. They had fit snugly before, but now they were far too tight. His thighs swelled, losing their lean definition as they turned into fat, pale slabs of dimpled hairy flesh that rubbed together, sticky with sweat. The smells wafting off his changing body made Colton want to gag.

“What the fuck?” he gasped, his voice cracking, higher, wheezier — wrong.

Dr. Reynolds chuckled. But his nasally voice seemed different — his slouchy posture was correcting itself — the old pervy doctor was being transformed, too! His hunched shoulders began to straighten, his immense potbelly retreating into an increasingly sculpted core as abdominal muscles pressed against his much smaller, tighter shirt. All the fat on his body began to melt away as years of neglect were reversing before Colton’s eyes. Dr. Reynold's graying hair darkened, growing thick and healthy. His wrinkles faded into smooth, taut skin. His pasty complexion was now bronzed and glowing.

“Colton, please settle down. This is your usual checkup, nothing more. And quit cussing — you of all people should know better,” Dr. Reynolds said, but his voice was deeper now, stronger, more confident. His lab coat suddenly fit better, snug against a chest that was now larger than Colton's had ever been. Even the man's biceps looked larger, veins running across the surface.

“What?” Colton wheezed, struggling to pull up his compression shorts as they dug painfully into his growing gut and fat pad. But the fabric was changing beneath his fingertips — stretching, darkening —becoming ratty sweatpants stained with grease and even grosser liquids.

“You’re always acting like a nervous wreck when you come in here,” Dr. Reynolds went on, now casually adjusting the very tight sleeves of his tailored hospital uniform. “You’d think you’d be used to it by now. How many times have I told you to cut back on the junk food? Christ, Colton, you really have ballooned since last visit.”

“No, no, no—” Colton gripped his thickening face, his bloated fingers sinking into new layers of soft, jowly fat. His chiseled jawline was buried beneath multiple chins, his sharp cheekbones lost forever beneath two fat dimples. His now greasy hair thinned before his eyes, receding higher and higher up his forehead. His nose widened, nostrils flaring as they twitched from the rancid stench that rose from his body.

Sweat. Cum. Food. Gas.

These were the things that defined him now.

Dr. Reynolds— younger, stronger, undeniably out of Colton's league — waved a large hand in front of his face, grimacing at the foul stench. “Jesus, did you even shower before coming in? Or is that just how you always smell?”

Colton’s mind reeled in confusion. He could still feel his old self somewhere, buried beneath all the blubber, the sweat, the stink. This wasn’t real—this wasn’t him! His chest hair begun to turn white, his balding hair turning gray as a salt-and-pepper beard erupted across his fat chins.

“I’m not—” he gasped in exhaustion. “I’m not—”

The words caught in his throat. He was losing the battle to remain himself.

Dr. Reynolds smirked, beginning to remove his now perfectly-fitted coat, muscles rippling with his every movement. “Not what? Not some fat, pathetic, gay slob who spends more time shoveling junk food into his face than actually taking care of himself?” He scoffed, his beautiful face glaring down at Colton like he was the smallest morbidly obese man in the world. “Colton, be serious for once in your life. When’s the last time you even saw the inside of a gym?”

Colton had just been at the gym — he had been hitting the weights all morning long before his check up! Pumping iron, running drills! He had done all of these things! But even as he reached for those memories of himself as a young and disciplined jock, they slipped away, replaced by something else — something that terrified him.

Hazy images of stained couch cushions arose in his conflicted mind, fast food wrappers strewn across his disgusting apartment. Late nights spent online on gainer forums took root in his brain, scrolling through mukbang videos while stuffing his own face. He vividly recalled jerking off to images of fit jocks who wouldn't even spit on him if he were on fire.

His stomach roared, suddenly starving, and he felt his mouth water at the thought of a greasy double cheeseburger and some extra-large fries.

“No…” Colton whimpered, shaking his fat head, his chins jiggling with the motion. His once proud cock had shrunken beneath his growing fat pad, but he could still feel it throbbing, rubbing against his folds as his massive body wobbled with each breath. It felt like he was balancing a beachball on his lap. And it was inflated to the point it was about to pop.

Dr. Reynolds scribbled something down on his clipboard, his biceps bulging slightly as he moved. Colton's little nub of a cock got harder, his fat lips glistening with drool. “Well, old man, we’re gonna have to talk about your cholesterol again. Not that you’ve ever listened to me before. You’re lucky I even let you keep coming in — most guys your size just give up on doctors entirely.” The young man chuckled, voice smooth, self-assured. “Then again, I guess you have given up, huh?”

Colton tried to protest, to fight, but his body ached — his back was sore from carrying so much weight, and his thick thighs were chafing with every tiny movement. His gut gurgled again, demanding food, reminding him of who he was — who he had always been. An obese, smelly old man who was addicted to porn; who got off to young jocks teasing him for being such a fucking loser.

Reality snapped into place around him.

Dr. Reynolds sighed, shaking his handsome head as he handed Colton a prescription slip. His hand was strong, veined, perfect, as Colton’s thick sausage fingers struggled to take it. “Here. Not that you’ll actually do anything about it, but at least it makes me feel better.”

Colton looked down at the slip. His chubby fingers struggled to grip the paper, smudged with sweat and burger grease he couldn't be assed to wash off. His name at the top was the same, but… had he ever been that perfect, sculpted jock that was still lingering in his mind? Had he really played football, been admired by his peers, been wanted by anyone in a sexual sense?

Or had he always been this old, flatulent lard ass loser?

“Get outta here, Colton,” Dr. Reynolds said, already moving on to the next file. His grin was smug, confident, gleaming. “And try not to waddle too much on your way out.”

Colton got up and rubbed his sagging, bloated belly as he marched out of the room. He knew there was no helping his waddle, but he found himself blushing in shame as his wide ass cheeks jiggled behind him. As he left the room, Colton squeezed out a nasty, droning fart. His tiny cock was squirting pre into his fat pad folds.

A distant voice in his mind was screaming for mercy, but the new Colton just got off on the sheer weight of his obese body, the knowledge that his handsome, young doctor thought he was disgusting. Fuck. This was the only reason he still showed up to his appointments.

This old perv needed to get home and order some fast food and start jerking to his favorite jock porn immediately! He'd consider actually reading his prescription slip tomorrow.

(this story is a reimagined version of Athlete No More by the iconic @bigfuckingdudes)

[crimsonfrostx]

A Road Well Traveled (Azriel x Reader)

Part 1

Word Count: 1902 Warnings: None, I think

Part 2 Part 3

It was a quiet night, the wind blowing softly through your hair as you walked around the city, enjoying the beautiful scenes of Velaris as you passed by. It's been a long time since you’ve been here, after all. You stop in your tracks as the way was blocked by a dark figure covered in shadows.

"A bit lost, are you?" says the suave voice of Azriel, his wings tucked in tight behind him, hazel eyes honed in on your form. You grin slowly, eyes trailing up the shadowsinger’s familiar form. "I'm never truly lost," you reply smoothly, bright eyes meeting his gaze.

He chuckles lightly, amused by your reply as he leans against a wall, his shadows billowing around him like a cloak. "Oh, you never change, do you?" he drawled in a low, velvety tone, his gaze roaming over you leisurely. "Hello, to you too, Azriel," you laughed, dropping your lightly packed bag at your feet.

Azriel's lips quirk upward into a smirk as he leans against the wall, observing you in quiet amusement. "You know," he says, "the last time I saw you, you were about ready to kick my ass for some reason." You hum, tapping your chin in thought. "I can come up with a reason now, if you prefer. Or, you can walk yourself over here and give an old friend a hug," you offer with a slow, teasing grin. 

Azriel raises an eyebrow, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "An old friend, huh?" He pushes off the wall and crosses the distance between you in a few easy strides. He scoops you into an embrace, his strong arms encircling you tightly. 

You squeal happily, arms circling around his neck and holding him just as tight. "It's been too long," you sigh into his shoulder, your feet kicking in the air like a small child. Azriel's arms tighten around you as he chuckles, his cheek brushing against your hair. "Much too long," he agrees, savoring the feeling of your body against his. "I've missed you, you know."

You lean into him, savoring the familiar body against yours just as much, his shadows snaking around you in greeting. "I've missed you more," you breathe out, and you're sure that you mean it. After everything that’s happened, you couldn’t imagine staying away from Azriel any longer.

Azriel presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his hand sliding through your hair. "There's no need for a contest," he murmurs with a smirk. When did he adapt Rhysand’s charm? You think idly for a moment, wondering if he truly has changed that much since you’ve been gone. No, surely he’s always been this way. If you remembered anything, it was Azriel’s heart stopping smile, not easily won by others. If you were lucky enough to be graced by its appearance, then you were a precious and rare sort. His shadows dance around you, twining affectionately between the two of you as if they, too, missed you.

You huff a laugh, leaning back to meet his gaze. "Don't let Cassian hear you say that. How is the big brute anyway?" You inquire, studying his facial features without stepping out of his arms. You took the chance to scan his features.

 His bronze skin was darker and as flawless as the last time you’d had seen him, his Illyrian tattoos peaking around the collar of his training leathers. The elegant planes of his face seemed sculpted and defined, you guessed it must have been from age. His inky black hair had grown longer too, the bottoms now curling around his rounded ears. Of course you noted the new sporadic scars that littered what you could see of his powerful body. 

Azriel's smirk turns into a genuine smile as he thinks of his friend. "Cassian is doing well. The same as ever, getting into trouble and causing havoc wherever he goes." He runs his thumb along your cheek, his gaze intent on your face, as if he's trying to commit every detail to memory. "Although he did mention he missed your delightful company," he adds teasingly.

You roll your eyes and step out of his hold, fixing your hair. "Of course, who wouldn't?" You send a wink his way, giggling in delight as shadowy strands wrap around your wrist. 

Azriel chuckles, his gaze lingering on your wrist as the shadowy strands twine themselves around it. He takes a step closer, eyeing the possessive gesture of his shadows with amusement. Leaning in, he murmurs near your ear, "My shadows are still quite fond of you, it seems."

"As they usually are. Really, Azriel, you should treat them better," you tease, your fingers dancing through the dark strands, still absolutely mesmerized by the mischievous shadows as the day you first saw them. 

Azriel's lips twitch in a small smirk as he watches your fingers run through his shadows. "Oh, I treat them just fine," he retorts, his gaze shifting to your fingers as they move across the tendrils. "Although, they might disagree with me if you keep doing that. They might just want to claim you for themselves."

"I'd cherish them forever," you grin up at him, dropping your hand to your side and reclaiming your bag off the street. "Now, are we going to catch up out here, or, are you going to show a lady to our High Lord's home?" you raise your eyebrows, watching him and waiting expectantly. 

Azriel chuckles, his gaze still fixated on the shadows that lingered on your wrist. "Of course, my lady," he says, the title rolling off his tongue smoothly. He gestured for you to walk ahead, the tendrils of his shadows reluctantly sliding away from you as he followed at your side.

You set an easy pace, following his guidance throughout your former city. "So, what have I missed?" You try to ask lightly, as if you hadn’t disappeared in the middle of the night without any warning. 

Azriel walks beside you , his gaze sweeping over the familiar streets of Velaris as he begins recounting what you’ve missed. "Well, Feyre and Rhys have been married for a few years now. Their little one is growing more mischievous day by day."

He glances at you, a small smile on his face. "Cassian finally found himself a mate, too. Though it's a constant struggle between them, as it always is with Cassian." You cast a sideways glance at him in surprise. "Is it this Nesta I've heard so much about? Feyre's older sister?" While away, you’ve heard whispers of the human turned High Fae, once engaged to Spring’s High Lord, now married and sharing power with Night Court’s High Lord. In addition, her older sisters’ being dragged into the middle of the Hybern mess and now High Fae as well. You were happy for Rhys, glad he had found someone to settle down with. A mate no less. 

Azriel nods, his gaze focused on the road before you. "Yes, indeed. Nesta and Cassian are an... interesting pair, to say the least." A sly smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth as he glances at you. "They seem to be constantly at each other's throats. I've never seen Cassian so riled up because of a female."

"It appears the Archeron’s are fascinating females," you breathe out, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. "And, you? Have you found yourself a pretty female to settle down with?" You ask innocently, though the tightness in your chest might say otherwise. You pushed the feeling to the side, hoping one of your closest friends had found his happiness.

Azriel's steps falter for a brief moment, his expression remaining carefully neutral as he looks at you. He takes a moment before replying, a hint of melancholy in his eyes that he quickly buries. "No, I haven't," he says quietly, his gaze returning to the path in front of him.

You glance away, your heart aching for him but can't stop the hope threading throughout your chest, leaving a bittersweet taste on your tongue. "You'll find someone, Az," you say quietly, eyes focusing as you near what you recognize as the Townhouse.

Azriel's jaw tightens, his gaze flickering to you briefly before looking away. "Perhaps one day," he murmurs, the tone of indifference masking the quiet ache in his heart. He stops in front of the Townhouse, gesturing for you to approach it first. "After you," he says politely, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

You pause, looking up at the building that held such fond memories of your life with your friends and family. Even the darkest parts of your past seemed easier to look back on with time. Taking a deep, centering breath, you move forward and turn the door knob. The entrance way looks the same as you remembered, crossing the threshold and putting your bag by the door, a habit you’ve learned through your travels, though you doubt you’ll have to make a hasty escape. You hope, anyway.

Azriel follows you into the Townhouse, closing the door behind him. The shadows that billowed around him fade into obscurity, blending into the corners of the room, as he watches you study the familiar surroundings. He leans against the wall, his gaze fixed on your form as you take in everything around you. "It hasn't changed much," he comments quietly, his eyes roaming over you.

You hum in agreement, a nervous energy filling you at the thought of seeing the rest of your family. "Maybe I should come back during the day. It's late," you offer weakly, glancing towards the door behind you. Thoughts of them not taking your sudden reappearance well settles over you. You couldn’t handle seeing them hate the sight of you. Not after what you’ve done to survive the last few years.

Azriel's gaze sharpens as he sees the hesitation on your face. He moves away from the wall, standing closer to you, towering over your form. "Is there something bothering you?" he asks in a low tone, his gaze searching your face. You look up, meeting his worried gaze. "It's not that, Az," you start quietly, glancing back towards where you can hear chatter and laughter, coming from the dining room. They must still have their family dinners. You weren't sure if luck was on your side, or not. "It's just been a while," you worried, your fingers twisting themselves in front of you, another habit you found hard to break.

Hazel eyes flicker towards the dining room, his expression hardening ever so slightly when he realizes where the noise is coming from. He looks back at you, noting the worry in your expression, the way your fingers twist together. He steps closer, his hands gently enveloping yours, stilling the nervous movement. "You don't have to do this tonight," he murmurs, his thumb tracing lazy circles on the back of your hand.

Azriel had always been your solid ground, keeping you steady and strong in the face of whatever opponent they were pointing at. Tonight, your opponents were your family, and you weren't sure that his steady and scarred hands could keep you together this time. Before you can say anything or move, a figure rounded the corner, a surprised gasp hitting your ears. Mor breathed your name softly out into the room, and suddenly it was too late to run.

A/N: This is my first story posted here, so I'm a little nervous.

Dividers by diviniyae

[diejager]

could you write something for stepdad alejandro and dbf rodolfo?🩵

Cw: stepcest, praising, worshipping reader, fluff, barbecue, cheating, tell me if I missed any. Note: I stuck with the “canon” age, meaning Rudy and Alejandro are in their late 30s or early 40s.

Mexican summers were always warm - warmer than what you were used to when you were living farther up - with it’s blazing sun and vivid fauna that seemed to glow under the heat and clear blue sky. Thankfully, the air wasn’t stale, neither dry nor humid, but a equal temperament with a soft breeze that cooled the sweat that clung to your skin. You hadn’t dared wear anything other than your bikini when you stood in the busy backyard barbecue your mom and your stepdad had decorated and filled to have guests and friends alike over in the mids of a beautiful July. Unlike many of the older women who covered up in a dress or loose pants out of traditionalist convenience, their children - a cousin or a friend, young adults who were as rambunctious as you - were unabashedly prancing around in thin-strapped bikinis and low trunks, all happy to take in the warmth on their bronze skin. 

Some people you knew, others you didn’t, Alejandro often invited his ragtag group he called Los Vaqueros to every barbecue if he could, his bright and joyous smile lifting the corners of his lips while he flipped the spiced beef kebab he left marinating yesterday. You couldn’t say you knew them very well, boisterous and proud people, but you were familiar with his right-hand man, sweet Rudolf who seemed to loved pampering you as much as he adored you. A man of softness and tender praises, the rough texture of his fingers carefully holding your hips, massaging the fatty rolls and whispering compliments, affectionate confession about how pretty and perfect you were.

“Muñequita, ” Rudy mumbled, pulling you towards him by your waist in open affection, letting others see how close he was to you, arm wrapped around your back and cheek pressed to yours, a smile lighting up his face with every flustering words he let slip down his tongue, “Are you free tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, lashes fluttering from how close his lips were to yours, his minty and warm musk filling your sense as much as it drowned out all your thoughts, “Why?”

He chuckled at your flustered and glazed expression, your lips pulled in a small and adorable pout while you clung to him, leaning your weight into his side as if you attempted to stand closer and closer to him despite being wrapped up in him arms:

“Ale and I were thinking of taking you out. That new restaurant you mentioned? We managed to reserve a table.”

“What?!” You turned to stare at him, gaping admiringly, “I- How’d you even do that? I’ve tried so many times and they always seem to be booked!”

“Well, Ale pulled some fa-”

“Honey!” Your mother called out to you from her side of the garden, surrounded with friends near the food table, “Could you go down and get more beers?”

“Of course, Ma!” You clambered out of the pool, water dripping down your thighs while you patted yourself dry, “Sorry, Rudy, I’ll be right back.”

You caught him smiling at you before you slipped through the kitchen door, carefully stepping down the basement-turned-man-cave’s stairs to get the beers out of the fridge. Finding the right pack, your bent down to rummage through the back to reach it when you felt hands grasp your hips. You jolted, eyes wide as you peered over your shoulder-

Only to see Alejandro’s shit eating rain, wild and blazing, smirking down at you with his crotch pressed to your ass. You swallowed thickly, watching the corded muscles of his arm flex and his swimming trunks hanging low, a bit of trimmed hair peaking out to tease you. 

“Thought I’d come down and help.”

Your body burned under his lidded gaze, thick and heavy, weighing you down with a churning in your core,

“Seems like more than just help.”

He laughed, a low bellow that rocked you forward, his shoulders shook and eyes gleamed so brightly, but mischievously. He was like the sun, hot and boisterous, and Rudy the ocean, all embracing and calm.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @haven-1307 @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce

[woso-dreamzzz]

Kid

Arsenal Women x Teen!Reader

Summary: You join Arsenal Women at age sixteen

Moving to England hadn't exactly been your plan when you started to play football.

To be honest, there hadn't been a plan at all, seeing as you were four when your parents first signed you up for your local academy in Sweden. It was just an excuse to keep you out of the house, so your parents didn't have to take time off work to look after you when school finished.

It helped that your school was partnered with the academy so a representative would come and walk all the academy students there and back.

Football may have been a convenience but it was clear to everyone that you were somewhat of a prodigy. Linköping Fc signed you as soon as they could, forcing you to make the move from your tiny town to the city.

Your parents were more than happy to finance the move - the kind of parents that happily parent from a distance but brag to all of their friends about how smart, how talented their daughter was.

You were happy to be rid of them.

You were even happier to get the callup for the National Team for the World Cup.

Your chest thudded in your throat when you received the call. You hadn't thought you would get the call-up, not when you were so young, so you had been at a café with some of your school friends when your phone rang.

You had picked it up absentmindedly and almost passed out from shock when Peter revealed he wanted you on the team.

The World Cup came and went and the bronze medal you won stayed with you. You had flat-out refused to give it over to your parents, who wanted to put it in the trophy cabinet in a house you no longer lived in.

The high of the World Cup bled into the high of getting a call to sign for Arsenal.

You hadn't even really thought about it.

You just accepted.

Which was how you had gotten here, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet as you waited for Stina to lock her car and walk in with you.

●～●～●～●～

You couldn't help but look at your jersey in awe. Your number combined with your last name on the back of an Arsenal jersey felt like a dream come true.

"There she is," Amanda said when you finally wandered into the meeting room, free from media duty. She pushed out a chair that was clearly meant for you at the table she was sitting at.

You sat in the seat awkwardly, suddenly feeling shy and awkward.

"This is y/n," Amanda said to the others, presenting you to them like you were someone really exciting.

"Hi, y/n. I'm Jen."

You didn't tell her that you already knew who she was, who they all were. You just sat there and let everyone introduce themselves to you because that was the polite thing to do.

"Hi."

"You're young, aren't you?" Asked Kim, even though you knew that she probably already knew that.

You nodded though. "Yeah." Your voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm sixteen."

"But she's a superstar." It was nice of Amanda to butt in. It saved you from having to speak.

"I think we know that," McCabe said with an eye roll," I think we all saw that match-winning goal against Australia."

You winced slightly as you snuck a glance to McCabe's other side where Catley sat, the very defender that you megged before scoring your goal.

Your eyes widened in horror when she made eye contact. "Sorry." You looked down at your lap, hiding your shaking hands under the table.

"Don't sweat it, kid," Catley replied with an easy grin," No hard feelings. It was a good call." She smirked at you. "Though, the deer in headlights look you had after it went in was pretty funny."

Laughter rang out through the group and you relaxed marginally, groaning at the reminder. Everyone you knew had sent that picture to you and you knew for a fact that it was still circulating the internet as a meme.

●～●～●～●～

It was easy to settle into life at Arsenal.

You were still shy and awkward off the pitch but you fit in well with the other girls and Lina, Stina and Amanda were always ready to sweep you away when they noticed you getting too overwhelmed.

Somewhere along the way Catley became Steph and McCabe became Katie.

You weren't really sure when that happened but it was a welcome change from when you first joined.

"Come on, kid. You've been studying too much," Katie said as an arm dragged you away from your laptop to where the others were playing FIFA.

You were dumped between Less and Vic while Lina laughed.

"She's always studying."

You rolled your eyes. "Just because you don't have to go to school anymore, doesn't mean that I don't."

"Online school isn't really school," Cloe said before swearing when Gio scored another goal," It's like...school without the deadlines."

"Except the deadline is before Christmas," You replied with a huff," I have essays to write, Katie! Let me go!"

"Don't let her go, girls," Katie said from where she was curled up with Caitlin.

Alessia mockingly saluted as she bracketed you in her arms while Vic pinned down your legs.

"Less! Vic!" You squawked as you tried to wiggle away from them.

Their holds were unrelenting and made even worse when Kyra popped up out of nowhere, digging her fingers into your side and tickling you like you had personally offended her or something.

"Stop! Stop!" You laughed, tears running down your face as Kyra remained unrelenting. "Cait-Caitlin! Caitlin, help!"

Caitlin looked at you thoughtfully, humming to herself before giving you a faux look of sympathy. "Sorry, y/n, I can't. You see, I'm still holding a grudge against you for grabbing that bronze medal." She winked to let you know she was joking.

"Oh, come on!"

●～●～●～●～

It took you nearly two weeks of being in London to meet the ACL squad and it was only because Kathrine slid in for a tackle at the wrong time and hit your ankle.

You hadn't even been on the ground for that long but it was enough that Jonas sent Gio to take you to the physios to get it taped up with an extremely apologetic Kathrine following after you.

"I'm so sorry," She was saying when Gio shepherded you into the room," I'll make up for it. How does one of those big jelly baby packs sound?"

"I'm not allowed to eat them," You replied," Stina said that they'll rot my teeth."

"Fine, fine, I'll think of something. How about dinner? I'll buy you dinner for your cheat day. Just tell me when."

You rolled your eyes, having no intention of doing so but still nodded.

"What's up with all this commotion?"

You had to admit, seeing Leah Williamson in person made you feel a little starstruck and you immediately retreated into yourself.

Gio jerked her thumb at Kathrine. "Kuhl hurt the kid and seeing as we need the kid, Jonas wants her ankle taped."

"My ankle's fine," You said stubbornly but allowed a physio to usher you onto the bed between Goldie and Wienriother. You gave them both one of your trademark awkward smiles as you let the physio pull off your boot and socks.

You didn't want to look at your ankle, already knowing it was bruised by the way that you saw Goldie wince sympathetically at you while the physio moved away to grab some ice.

"That looks nasty," She said," Does it hurt?"

"Not too bad."

"I'm Teyah, by the way."

"y/n."

"I know." She smiled at you. "It's nice that there's someone younger than me and Naomi now."

You looked down bashfully. "Happy to be of service."

Next to you, Weinriother laughed. "Don't mind Teyah, she's just glad no one will call her kid anymore. I'm Laura, by the way."

"And I'm Beth!" She leaned over Laura to shake your hand before indicating to where her girlfriend was being worked on. "That's Viv, she's a little prickly sometimes but if you ever need some peace and quiet, I'm sure she wouldn't mind you sitting with her."

You nodded, still feeling a little awkward even though the tension had disappeared.

"You're living with Stina, right?" Leah asked," How's that going?"

"Good," You replied, focussed on the way that the physio was moving your ankle," She lets me play music on the speakers while I study."

Leah laughed. "I live right round the corner. If you ever need a break, feel free to pop in. I reckon I'm more fun than Stina anyway."

●～●～●～●～

You hated asking for help.

You hated it even more when you had to ask for help on schoolwork.

You were smart. You knew you were smart. If there were two things that a lack of parents in your life gave you, it was excellent football skills and the ability to solve your own problems.

But this maths section in your textbook was causing you more pain than a Katie tackle in training ever could.

You glanced around the room. The media room was almost always empty at this time of day - the two and a half hour window between morning training and the gym session.

Almost everyone lived close so headed back home to rest before coming back. Stina had asked if you wanted to head back home with her but you decided not to, needing to finish your maths homework.

Lina had asked if you wanted her to drop you off on her way to her own place as well but you didn't relent.

You hunkered down in the media room with your textbook and, after just over an hour, your eyes stung like you hadn't slept in three days.

You glanced around again and finally swallowed your pride.

"Frida?" You asked the least intimidating person in the room," Can you help me?"

She looked up from her phone. "What is it?" She dragged your textbook towards her. "Oh! I can help!"

Despite her optimism, within a few seconds, it became clear that Frida could absolutely not help you. The more she read through your problems, the deeper her frown got until she was holding a pencil between her fingers and mouthing the question to herself as if that would help her understand.

She looked positively ill when she looked up at you before she cleared her throat. "Lia? Do you know how to do fancy algebra?"

Lia, from across the room, sighed as she approached. "I used to be quite good at algebra," She boasted," What's the problem?"

"Algebra," You deadpanned, shoving the textbook and your notepad at her," Help."

To her credit, she got further than Frida did, jotting down her working out before falling at the last hurdle - just like you did. She frowned. "Give me a second."

She rewrote all of her work but still ended up stumped at the same place as before.

"Kim? Jen? How were you at maths in school?"

Kim and Jen tried to help as well but it was like the blind leading the blind. You were going around in circles.

"When are you going to need this in life?" Kim said, drawing a line through her most reason equation and sighing.

"Unless you want to be an engineer, never." Jen sighed and flipped the book shut. "You don't want to be an engineer, do you, kid?"

"I'm happy playing football."

●～●～●～●～

If you weren't doing schoolwork at every spare moment, it was safe to say that you napping.

Back at National Camp, it wasn't uncommon to find you curled up in bed or with your head in Frido's lap while everyone watched a movie.

It seemed that your need to nap every moment you weren't occupied had carried over to England.

It got a little embarrassing the first few times you had been caught napping in the communal space. It was even worse when you woke up to Viv staring down at you with an unreadable look on her face, taking in your form curled up under your travel blanket.

You had smiled nervously as she stood in front of you, unmoving.

When Beth appeared through the door a moment later, Viv shushed her sternly and tucked your blanket up over your shoulders again, taking a seat nearby with a book.

Beth, it seemed, hadn't been able to keep her mouth shut about it so your constant naps had just become an expected thing and, after Leah had accidentally woken you up and gotten yelled at by Viv for it, the team tended to just leave you alone.

You were slightly delirious and warm when you woke up from your nap, eyes fluttering open and then shut again.

The low murmur of chatter let you know that contrary to when you started your nap, you were now no longer alone.

You were still quite confused, brain still thick with sleep, but you could recognise Sabrina's Canadian-accented English so you gathered that the keepers had finished their morning practice and had found you asleep in the media room.

You also recognised that your head was now slightly elevated so one of them must have moved your head into their lap while you slept. That was nice. Sometimes you would wake up with a crook in your neck from sleeping on the beat-up sofa that Leah swore she was one bad back away from replacing herself.

Your eyes fluttered open again, blearily blinking.

Across from you, Naomi laughed. "The kid's awake."

"I'm not a kid," You said stubbornly even though you were," You're not that much older than me."

"Still older," Naomi replied.

Next to her, Sabrina laughed.

That meant that Manu was sitting with you, your head in her lap. She laughed as well, jolting you slightly as you clutched your travel blanket tighter around your body.

You yawned.

"How long until gym?"

"Hour and a bit," Came Manu's answer.

You hummed and yawned a second time.

"Don't tell me you're going back to sleep," Sabrina said.

"Fine. I won't tell you."

●～●～●～●～

You spent the first few matches stuck on the bench.

You were young and not as experienced as your teammates so it made sense that you would be stuck there for the time being. Besides, it made you feel a little bit better that Kyra was stuck on the bench as well so you had someone who acted younger than you to muck around with.

"Chin up," Laia said with a grin, an arm thrown over your shoulder as she walked onto the pitch with you for warmups," You're starting today. Aren't you excited?"

"You look more excited than me," You replied a little sourly," I...I feel a little sick if I'm honest."

"You'll do great."

"So long as you tie your boots correctly and don't trip," Noelle said in way of greeting.

Your cheeks lit up in flames instantly at the reminder of training a few days ago when Beth had snuck up behind you and made a stupid sound in your ear. You had jumped into the air in shock and your laces weren't tied correctly so you tripped over your own feet and went tumbling to the ground in a way that made you look clumsier than Alessia.

"Don't be mean," Lotte chastised as the four of you passed a ball around," y/n knows how to properly tie her laces." She sent you a teasing smile and a shrug. "Besides, I'm sure she'll have some of the older girls lining up to make sure they're done properly."

You huffed as you kicked the ball back to her. You spun on your heel. "You're all mean," You declared," I'm gonna warm up with Vic and Less."

●～●～●～●～

The ninety minutes of your debut match were gruelling.

The ball went back and forth between the teams. Every shot that went in was equalised quickly. Everyone was growing tired, especially when five minutes of extra time was awarded and Katie was one dirty tackle away from earning herself a yellow card.

You took a moment to catch your breath, pulling up your socks before breaking into a sprint.

The opposing team's defence was in shambles and you could see their goalkeeper getting antsy.

A long ball from Katie fell neatly into Alessia's feet and she began her run.

You followed after her quickly as the opposing defence broke their line. It was carnage for a moment as you both approached the box.

The goalkeeper came off her line ever so slightly as the defence mobbed Alessia, who passed quickly to you.

Your foot moved automatically as you chipped the ball over the goalkeeper's head and into the back of the net.

Your instincts got you the goal so when your brain finally caught up, you were sporting the same look on your face as the one you had when you won against Australia.

The final whistle rang out as you stood there in shock.

Half a moment later, the team crashed into you.

Less made it to you first, pulling you in for a tight hug before everyone else converged on you.

You felt a bit like a dog, with the amount of head pats you were receiving but the blinding smile on your face more than made up for it - especially when Viv meandered over and gave you a hug and congratulations.

"Come on, l/n!" Katie cheered as she dragged you through the victory lap. "Party tonight! I'll pay for the drinks!"

"She's sixteen," Lina reminded her.

"I didn't say we had to go out to a pub! It's legal for sixteen-year-olds to drink at home! What do you say, kid?"

You laughed. "Good luck getting Stina to agree."

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2024: October 1st

Day 1: Handjobs // Temperature Play // Breast Worship

Marcus Acacius x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Handjobs, allusions to imbalanced power dynamics, mentions of blood/death, cum

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The moans of the wounded and the tired men can almost be ignored through the thick fabric of the tent. The heavy spices hang in the air, burning flagrantly in the smoldering copper pots you keep lit. Wanting to mask the odor of death and blood. To keep this space free of the oppression outside the tent flaps. 

Marcus groans, his chest heaving and making the water ripple as he throws his head back. “More.” He grunts, his voice raspy from shouting orders during the bloodiest and most hard fought day of this campaign so far. 

Sitting in hip deep water, the blood had been washed away, the dirt and grime of battle swim in the wooden tub outside the tent. This bath is for pleasure. This moment is for him. 

His cock slaps against the small pouch of his belly as you let him go, reaching for the vial of warmed, scented oil to add more to your hands. After so many months in his service, you know what he wants. 

Marcus Acacius is a man who holds himself tightly bound by the code he has lived by. That had been instilled in him by someone who was proclaimed to be the greatest of all the Roman generals. A man who he unfortunately could not live up to his memory, at least in his own eyes. 

Your hands are slicked together, sliding easily when you lean forward to wrap your hands around the thick length of his cock and pull another deep groan from him. 

He looks gorgeous, wet curls hanging slightly as his head tilts back, throat exposed and vulnerable. Eyes closed as a murmured curse passes through his lips. His cock twitching when you squeeze him gently, feeling the vein pulse to the heavy beating of his heart. 

The skin rolls easily. Silky velvet draped over steel, a wonderful contradiction of feelings. Something so hard shouldn’t be so soft, and something so soft shouldn’t burn so hot it feels like Vesuvius in your grip. 

The head of his cock is so raw, leaking the fluids that you smear over it with your thumb, making him hiss and the water slosh as his hips jerk up. His skin looks bronzed in the soft light from the candles and you squeeze him again. 

“Shit!” You bite your lip when he curses, watching his face and his cock with equal fascination, the emotions playing over his features are riotous and changing from one moment to the next as you stroke his cock. As you give him what pleasure he is willing to take from you. 

Up and down, your wrist twists as you pump him, feeling the need building in his body. At the same time other muscles start to relax. His breath catching and becoming short, heavier. 

“Relax dominus.” You coo softly, making his eyes fly open and he reaches down to grab your wrist, stilling your hand.

“Marcus.” He pants, dark eyes boring into yours with an intensity that would have you shrinking back if he wasn’t holding you. “Do not call me that. Use my name.”

“Marcus.” You whisper his name quietly, as if you are afraid someone outside may hear it and punish you. A foolish fear, since Marcus would be the one to find offense if any was to be had, but one that is very hard to overcome. 

He relaxes his grip on your wrist and slowly starts helping you pump his length again before letting go. Water drips off his hand and arm as he pulls it back to drape along the edge of the tub and leans back again. Your own name falls from his lips quietly, poised in praise and approval as his eyes slide closer again. “Good girl.”

The wet sounds of his cock in your hand draw your attention back down to his length. Making you wonder how he would feel inside you. How he would taste. Things that he did not allow to happen, and he had only reluctantly let you touch him like this. 

His cock is thick and a good length, enough that you cannot cover all of it when your fingers are around it. The long strokes of your hand have to be quick, the pace steady to build him back to where he had been before you had erred. 

On your knees beside the tub, you wish to crawl in there with him, to mount him. Instead of letting your hand glide up and down his cock, you want the walls of your cunt clenched tight around him. Still you continue to caress his throbbing cock, sliding your other hand down so you can cradle the soft fullness of the balls that are resting below his length. 

His grunts and groans are growing louder, his hips starting to roll towards your hand. The edge of his jaw tightening as he hisses. You don’t miss the way his fingers curl around the edge of the tub, trying to hold onto his composure. He doesn’t like to give up control and that’s exactly what he is doing with every flick of your wrist and downward stroke as you burn the fires in his belly. 

He’s close. You can feel it in the way that his hips tilt, his stomach ripples as it tightens and releases. As if he is trying to stave off his pleasure. To drag it out and make it even sweeter while you pump his cock again and again. His groan breaks, your name on his lips right before his cock twitches violently in your grip. 

Hot spurts of his seed shoot out of the tip, painting his chest while his panting breaths makes his chest heave. Your hand is coated, the thick, creamy seed sliding down into your fingers as you work him through it. Wanting him to work every drop of his pleasure out of his cock until he is spent. 

His cock starts to soften in your hand, his hips dropping back to the bottom of the tub and he exhales in pure relief as he lets the pleasure rush through his system. His head is not dropped down to his chest for a long moment until he lifts it, looking into your eyes with a guilty sense of gratitude that you wish you could soothe away with soft kisses and words. You don’t though, slowly releasing his cock and pushing your hand under the water to wash his seed off your skin so you can pick up the soft cloth to wipe it from his chest. 

Your job is to serve the general and for now, he only requires you to give him pleasure with your hand.

[mj0702]

The other Bronze – Part 2

For my Bubs and @cyclingbigirl who demanded a part 2

Keira woke the next morning, you draped half over her body. Your right leg was across her lower half, your face was laying on her shoulders, your right arm was over her chest, gripping onto Keiras left sleeve. As carefully as she could, she fished her phone, making a selfie of you and her. She saw that she had 6 unread messages from Lucy, asking about her little sister and if everything was alright. The last message not even 15 Minutes old, so Keira decided to just respond with the picture. A minute later her phone vibrated again

Lucy: “Someone is cuddley”

Keira chuckled and texted back “Aren't all Bronzes cuddley around me?”

Lucy: “My Brother too, Keira?! Seriously? Don't you have any shame?”

Keira: “Maybe ;)”

Lucy: “Kinda disturbing, but whatever... she okay? You okay?”

Keira: “She misses you – a lot... just a fair warning.. she's not to keen on Ona, so keep their time spent together to a minimum in the beginning”

Lucy: “She doesn't even know Ona... what is her fucking Problem?”

Keira: “Language, Lucia... she doesn't really have a Problem. You know she always struggled with Change – she feels guilty for our breakup and just needs time to get used to you dating again”

Lucy: “I'm sorry... not only for the swearing – I think I didn't realized just how much it affected her... still affects her... thank you for watching out for her too, Kei... it really means the world to me”

Keira: “No need to thank me, Lucy... you know I love her just as much – so... brunch?”

Lucy: “You think you can get her up and presentable in an hour?”

Keira: “Oh please – I tell you the same as her yesterday... I'm not you – I'm not a push-over”

Lucy: “Oi!! I'm not a push-over”

Keira: “With her you always were... and still are”

Lucy: “One Hour starts now, Walsh... tick tock”

Keira laughed lightly, not even bother to respond, before she started to softly stroke over the younger Bronzes face.

“Wakey wakey” she whispered in your ear. Your nose scrunched up and you pressed your Face deeper into Keiras shoulder.

“Come on, Bitsy.. time for brunch” the older Woman said smiling, knowing that the promise of Food always gets the Bronze women going. Food and Caffeine. Your nose scrunched up again, but at least your head moves a little bit, looking sleepily at Keira.

“Breakfast?” you ask, your Voice thick with sleep.

“As soon as you up, showered and presentable” the older woman smiled.

“Noooo...” you whined sleepily, your head laying back on her shoulder.

“Yes” she said in the same tone as you “Your sister said you won't be presentable in an Hour... you really want to prove her right??”

Keira also knew, like the whole world does that the Bronze Family was highly competitive. You were up in a flash and a minute later Keira heard the Shower going. The older Woman laughed loudly, standing up herself, walking into the Kitchen starting on the Coffee.

15 Minutes later the youngest Bronze emerged from the Bathroom just covered in a Towel “Kei?? Clothes? Please?”

“I bet your Sister would be so happy to see you parading through town just covered by a short Towel ” Keira laughed “Here” she pushed a cup of Coffee in your Hands before walking back to her Bedroom looking for some Clothes.

She came back with a white T-shirt and some of her kit shorts “Up to wear my number for a change?” She smirked at you.

“Replacing the old Bronze with the newer, younger, sexier Model, are we?” you smirk back, but grab the offered shorts nonetheless.

45 Minutes later, Keira and y/n stood outside the little Place, Alexia mentioned the other day, waiting for the Rest of the Girls to arrive.

“Gosh she got so slow since she hit the 30” you rolled her eyes as your Sister obviously was late. Keira burst out laughing next to you.

“I don't think it has anything to do with her age...” she smirked, waiting for you to catch on. You look at her confused, until you realized what she implied, gagging loudly. The older woman laughing again loudly.

“You're her ex, you shouldn't talk about her having sex so easily... especially NOT with me” you gagged again.

“Who's having Sex?” a voice behind you asked, startling you.

“Speak of the Devil” you mumbled before turning around, your facial expression neutral “You're glowing... disgusting”

“Excuse me?” your Sister taken aback by your “greeting”

Keira just keeps on laughing, her hands on her sides, as she bends over trying to control herself. “You heard me, Arse Biscuits” you grumbled.

“Oi” your Sister said upset, taking a step towards you “watch your gob, wee shite”

Keira sensed that the two of you start to push each other so she interfered, knowing Ona – who arrived with your Sister – didn't know how to handle the two of you in situations like this.

“Both of you... take a step back” Keira said sharply. You and your Sister not reacting, staring at each other. You were so close to each other that your noses were nearly touching - Keira firmly said “Now!”

Lucy and you snapped out of it and you both took a step backwards. Keira looked at Ona, who stood there with a shocked Face “Don't worry... normal sibling behaviour between them – you just need to know when to intervene. And you need to be strict about it, because they're both hot headed and stubborn” she smiled.

“Okay” Ona said, her voice unsure, looking from Lucy to you and back.

“You'll get used to it” Keira chuckled and patted Onas back.

“You calm again?” Keira asked the two Bronze sisters

“Yes” both of them mumbled ashamed

“Good... then let's go inside, I need something to eat” Keira said, leading the Way.

Just as you all sat down, Mapí, Alexia, Ingrid, Patri and Pina joined the Group, all squishing themselves around the small table. Since the table was originally for four People and now there are nine, you got shoved around until you ended up getting placed on Lucys lap by Mapí, claiming she reserved the seat you were sitting on before you even arrived.

Lucy tried to shove you off her lap just for you to look at her with puppy eyes holding onto her shoulder “There no seats left”. Your Sister groaned, but laid her arm around your back

“The things I let you do” she rolled her eyes, but you could see a smile tugging at the corner of her Mouth.

“Love you too, Luce” you mumbled quietly

She squeezed your Side lovingly, before joining the Conversation at the Table, while you just looked around the small Place, taking in the Atmosphere – the Conversation was in Spanish anyway, so it was not like you could follow it.

“Cariño?” Alexia looked at you expectantly as you looked at her confused.

“Yes?”

“Did you hear what I said?” the Barca captain looked amused

“No?” you admitted ashamed.

Alexia laughed before repeating her question “I asked for how long you're staying”.

“Oh... Mum said I can stay until Lucy gets tired of me...” you shrugged your Shoulders

Your Sister grabbed her Phone grinning “Wait, let me get an Uber for you”

“KEIRAAAA!!!” you yelled down the Table “LUCY IS MEAN AGAIN!!!!”

“Lucy!!” Keira scolded your Sister.

Lucy looked at you “You little backstabbing...”

Before she was able to finish you grinned wickedly, shouting again “KEIRA!!! She's calling me bad names”

“LUCIA!” Keira warned and Lucy knew it's getting to a point were she was in serious trouble.

“I didn't do anything!!!!” she defended herself annoyed.

Alexia just starred at the two of you, as you wore a shit eating grin your Sister looking like a kicked puppy, Mapí high-fiving you over Ingrid.

“You two are really children, aren't you?” the Barca captain asked amused.

“She brings out the worst in me” you grinned, taking your Sisters head into a headlock “Noogie!!” you laughed.

Lucy hugged your stomach, standing up, lifting you in Process, swearing at you, while you locking your legs around her waist. You didn't let go of her Head, laughing loudly as Lucy began to spin herself to get rid of you.

Meanwhile, Keira rolled her Eyes then looked at Ona “Now you should interfere... otherwise they will take the whole place down rough housing”

Ona looked at her shocked “Me?”

Keira grinned “Yeah you... they're your Problem now... welcome to the Bronze Family”

Mapí started to cheer you on while Ingrid tried to keep her in her seat so she wouldn't jump on Lucy to help you win. Ona tried to get your and Lucys attention, but it was no use, since she was still to reserved about you. Lucy managed to get you to let go of her, now having you in a light headlock. “Dear bloody Christ” Keira swore under her breath, turning to Ona “Watch and learn”

The Englishwoman stood up, walked over to the wrestling pair of Sisters and just grabbed both of you by the Ear before dragging you outside. Both of you stumble after Keira begging her to let go, but in secret you knew better that your plea would fall on deaf ears. Keira lead you outside the small restaurant, coming to a scattered halt outside.

“Are you two actually completely bloody mad??” she scolded the Sisters

“Sorry” you mumble and looked to the ground embarrassed

“You're going to be sorry, y/n Bronze... Mapí won't be the only one doing laps today” Keira said angry before turning to Lucy “And you... don't encourage her behaviour... you're the older one – you should be the grown up”.

Lucy looked guilty and started do fiddle with her fingers “I know... but she started it”

“Did NOT” you immediately exclaimed.

“Quiet.. both of you” Keira said sternly “I don't care who started it... we're in public.. what if Fans take pictures or god forbid a Video... and just as a small information, Lucia... Your new Girlfriend is very taken aback of your behaviour right now... I mean I knew what I was getting into when we started dating. I knew the two of you beforehand and knew your Actions, but she doesn't... I know you genuinely love each other and it's your weird language of love rough housing around, throwing insults at each other, but Ona can't understand it.. so either both of you pull yourself together OR I'm going to make sure the two of you will only have supervised visits – supervised by me”.

Both of you looked very guilty, not knowing what to say.

“Are we clear?” Keira hissed out at your silence.

“Crystal” Lucy and you said simultaneously.

“Good” the other Woman nodded.

“Do I really need to run laps?” you asked carefully, shuffling your feet.

“Yes” Keira said strict “But don't worry, you'll be in good company... Mapí and your Sister will join you”

“I'm doing what?” Lucy looking at Keira confused.

“You really didn't think that I punish her and you'd walk, did you?” Keira raised an eyebrow.

“You can't make me do Laps” Lucy said.

“True.. I can't.. but Alexia can and I'm VERY certain that she's on my side this Time” Keira smirked wickedly, before rentering the small Restaurant.

You looked at your Sister “How fucked are we?”

“Very...” Lucy sighed out “When she really involves Ale, than we're very VERY fucked”

“We could bolt?” you suggested

“You can... I need to be at Training at 3pm... it's my Job” your Sister shrugged “I can say you just bolted, when I didn't look”

“Naah” you smiled “We survived angry Keira before... Tobronzher”

Your sister laughed “Still the most stupid word you ever came up with... it sounds nothing like together”

“You still understood” you shrugged your shoulders

“I should talk to Ona” Lucy said contemplative.

“I really didn't want to cause trouble Luce” you said apologetically

“I know... and you didn't really.. I should have talked to her beforehand... our bond is special and Keira was right... she doesn't know how the two of us work...” your Sister said encouraging. You just hummed.

“Why don't you like her?” Lucy asked softly.

“I don't know her...” you said reflecting “... so I don't know if I like her or not”.

“You didn't even gave her a Chance” your Sister said, but it wasn't accusing or angry – it was simply a fact.

“When Luce? When did I had a chance to get to know her? Yesterday when I walked in on you? Or yesterday evening, when we sat like... 15 Minutes at the same Table, where you choose to drift off to your own World with her, which is okay, really.... or today, where we sat like half an hour together and all of you started speaking Spanish – even you – and I starred at the Wall? You didn't really put up an effort to introduce us too, Luce... you called me Devils Spawn the first Time we met... probably freaked her out” you said, shrugging your Shoulders sadly.

Lucy realized that you were right “I'm sorry.. I'm sorry for not realizing how stupid I acted.... I'm going to make it up to you, I promise”

“I'm not the one you have to make up anything... I know you my whole life... I know you... but you should probably talk to her” you said.

“Dinner tonight... only the three of us?” your Sister asked hopefully.

“You... should talk to her first... if that's okay for her” you said carefully.

“I know I’m going to sound like an egotistical asshole in a second, but... you're my SISTER... you will always come first...” your Sister said and pulled you into a tight hug.

You hugged her back and mumbled into her shoulder “But she's your girlfriend...”

“She is... but your feelings will always be important to me... so if she says no, which she won't, I know she won't, than that's one thing... but if YOU say no... than that would really hurt” Lucy said, not letting go of you.

“I'm not saying no... but.. I need time?” you said carefully “I need time to process the whole situation...”

“That's okay... you want me to talk to Keira if you can stay at hers? Or maybe Alexia” your Sister offered.

“I'm not staying with the Scary Woman” you exclaimed shocked.

Lucy laughed out loudly “She's a big softie... she acts all scary when she's mad or on the pitch... but in private... mushball... oh... and she has a girlfriend, so you don't have to be scared she would take advantage of you... you will leave Barcelona still a virgin...”

“Oh please... THAT ship sunk long time ago” you mumbled and rolled your Eyes.

“EXCUSE ME??” your Sister screeched out surprised.

“Nothing” you answer quickly and try to push passed her.

Lucy grabbed your Arm, making you look at her “Who? When? Where? Why?”.

You knew it was no use in lying, so you answered reluctantly “Won't tell you... my Birthday... very classical in a bed... because it felt right?”.

Lucy pinched the bridge of her nose “Please tell me you were careful, used protection and you're definitely not pregnant”.

You looked at her with a shocked impression, before recovering “This... Person... wasn't... a dude?” you said carefully, not knowing how your Sister would react.

“A girl?” Lucy asked surprised. You nodded, but didn't meet her eye. “Hey” Lucy grabbed your chin gently and make you look at her “it's okay.. I mean... I'm gay... Publicly gay”

“I just... never told anyone” you mumbled ashamed.

“I feel honoured you told me, Bubs... did she... look after you?” your Sister asked carefully, knowing this wasn't really a Topic you should discuss in Public.

“Still is...” you admitted softly, started to play with the hem of Keiras shorts, a soft blush covering your cheeks.

“Good...” your Sister said, hugging you again before pulling back looking at you shocked “Oh my God... it wasn't Keira, was it??”

“What?” you looked at her confused

“Was it Keira?! The one who... you know”

“Oh my bloody God NO... god you're disgusting! NO!! That's wrong on SO many levels” you exclaim shocked.

“I KNOW it would be wrong... Just the way you said that the person was still taking care of you and you started to play with your shorts, which are actually Kei's shorts... so...” your Sister stuttered.

“Did you actually just listened to yourself?! I wear Keiras shorts, because I slept AT hers with my clothes still at your place...”

“Oh god... that was like a major shocking confusion just now... We should go eat something” your sister sighed out relived.

“You better not bring that up again.. that was just SO wrong” you shake your head.

“Do I know this person?” Lucy smirked as she held the door open for you

“Drop it, Lucia” you said annoyed but with a smile on your face

“So that's a Yes then” she grinned back at you, walking inside after you

“I said drop it... I won't tell you” you smirked

The two of you made your way back inside, immediately getting spotted by Keira, Alexia and Ona. You just sat down, you on Lucys Lap again and started to grab some Breakfast stuff. Keira smiled slightly before returning to eat her Cereal with Yoghurt and Fruit, while Alexia and Ona look at you baffled.

“What happened with the two of you?” Alexia asked confused

“What do you mean?” you mumble, chewing on a piece of Toast with tomato on it which your Sister offered you

“Stop talking with your mouth full, Y/n” Keira scolded you

“Like.. 10 minutes ago, you were basically pulling each others hair, nearly biting and now you're sitting here like nothing happened” Mapí looked at you puzzled.

“That... was 10 minutes ago?” you answered and looked like you didn't see a problem

“Again... welcome to the Bronze Family” Keira smiled at the Spaniards “One moment they're at each others throats, next they share food”

“You know what their problem is?” you ask your Sister confused

“No... on the other Hand I don't care” she shrugged her shoulders, pushing more food in front of you while eating the slightly healthier version of brunch.

After all of you finished your food you left the small restaurant all walking roughly in the same direction before it was time to go separate ways.

“See you later” Alexia said smiling before turning to Mapí “Want to run your laps before or after training?”

“You were serious about that?” the younger player exclaimed, her eyes growing big.

“When did I ever joked about you doing laps?” Alexia said, pulling an eyebrow up

“After, if that's okay” Mapí mumbled defeated, her head hung low

“Don't worry, Mapí... you won't be alone... Lucy and Y/n will join you” Keira smiled wickedly

“I think it's a little unfair that young, unfit1 me needs to keep up with world class players... Lucy can do my laps too...” you said innocently

“Nice try” Keira looked at you impressed “But no”

“Aaaawww maaaan” you groaned out

“If I need to run, you will too” your Sister growled

“Then it's settled” Alexia said grinning “The three of you, laps after training”

Lucy, Ona and you started to walk in the direction of Lucys apartment as you nudged her side

“Why do we want to run after training? Isn't it counterproductive to run when you're already tired and sweaty?”

“Theoretically it is a bad decision, because we’re already tired.... practically... we can use it as part of recovery AND it's a little cooler later in the afternoon...” your sister explained, while smiling slightly.

“Ah...” you say understanding “And how many laps do we need to run?”

Lucy started laughing “If Alexia is gracious maybe five”

“WHAT? FIVE?” you shriek and look at your sister shocked, which caused even Ona to chuckle

“Bubs... Alexia can make Mapí and I run... she can't make you run” Lucy winked at you

“Then why am I running laps with you and Mapí?” you looked at her like she’s growing a second head.

“Because you pissed off Keira?!” your Sister provided an answer

“Ah... yeah... I forgot about that” you said defeated

As you arrived the apartment, Ona wanted to say goodbye but got pulled inside by Lucy while you make your way to the kitchen.

“We need to talk” Lucy mumbled to her girlfriend

“¿Estás rompiendo conmigo?” Ona said sadly

“¿qué? no claro que no!!!” Lucy exclaimed shocked

Ona just shrugged her shoulders and looked up at Lucy sadly. Lucy took a step closer to the younger catalan woman taking her face in her hands.

“¿Por qué crees que rompería contigo?” your sister asked her girlfriend softly

“Necesitamos hablar suele ser un paso muerto” Ona said a little unsure

“I don't understand anything... could you please switch to english??” you yelled from the kitchen, where you prepared yourself a sandwich

“This is a PRIVATE conversation...” your Sister yelled back “... so get lost”

“Then don't hold your PRIVATE conversation in an open space like the living room, which is right next to the kitchen... your apartment ist very open” you answered, gesturing around the apartment.

“Are you seriously eating again?? We just had breakfast” Lucy exclaimed as she saw the sandwich “... and I told you to get lost, I want to talk to Ona... privatly”

“It's not like I understand anything” you rolled your eyes

“Los dejo a ustedes dos... No quiero entrometerme” Ona said quietly

“No te quedes... por favor” Lucy said a little desperate “Ignórala... lo siento, puedo enviarla a su habitación si te hace sentir incómodo”

“No, you should enjoy your time with your sister” Ona smiled but her eyes show sadness

“Thank you” you said, chewing on your sandwich, completely oblivious to what’s happening.

“I told you to get lost” Lucy growled at you and you noticed it was serious

“I don't know where to go... you never showed me around” you said annoyed

“Here” your sister reached into her pants pocket, pulling out some money “Here are 20 Euros, find the next Starbucks and buy yourself an Iced Chocolate Frappe... or something else without caffein... just PLEASE leave”

“Wow you really love me” you said sarcastic “It feels like I'm 13 all over and you wanted me out of the House so you can have “quality time” with Keira”

“I want you out of my apartment, because I need to speak to my girlfriend in private and you eating like harvester doesn't help... take your phone with you, god only knows Mum will kill me if you get lost in Barcelona because you took a wrong turn and ended up in La Mina – IF you get lost or need to get picked up, phone me.. or Keira! Be aware of pick pockers and don't interact with groups of spanish guys... DON'T GET KILLED” your Sister said, already pushing you towards the front door and outside

“I... hey...” you tried to protest but it was no use, since you found yourself already outside of the apartment

“Lucy... I need SHOES” you knocked hard on the door, which promptly opend and a pair of shoes were tossed outside.

Part 3 is in the making 😅

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: you hadn't been sure what to feel after demanding Ajay bring the others. bring everyone. it'd been reckless, stupid. Wally you had figured had been fine, perhaps even Ajay too, but everyone? it had either been the dumbest thing you'd ever done or the smartest. thankfully, you'd learned enough about the others to know what topics to avoid and which to use to your advantage...

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.22

You sat in the dining room, the French doors closed for privacy. Your family was in various positions around you as they helped you study the pile of file folders your mother had exhumed from the enormous wooden chest in the basement.

The dining room itself was large yet cozy, eclectic, lived in; it was where your mother brought her clients for readings and spiritual counsel. A round table took up the middle of the room; a tea tray and plates of finger foods were placed in the center where a hokey crystal ball normally sat. Shelves along the back wall were stuffed with books from the Barnes & Noble witchcraft section, boasting titles like, A Witch's Guide to Garden Magick and, Spells & Incantations for a Better Life.

The plum-colored ceiling was decorated in constellations that Andrew had painted the week before your mother began marketing herself, and the wood floor was covered in a layer of Persian rugs thrown here and there that had absorbed the heavy musk of the incense your mother burned during sessions.

It was a beautiful room, to be sure, and you hated every inch of it. All the frivolous bits and bobs that encouraged people to believe a lie mocking you from their perches. Portraits of people who meant nothing to your family; taxidermized crows and owls and foxes. A mounted stag's head, because why not? It added to the rustic, sorcerous atmosphere.

"What about Rhonda Rosen?" Ginny inquired around the stem of her cigarette holder. She was done up in a silk kimono, purple hair peeking out from beneath a bronze turban. An homage to Old Hollywood starlets who'd aged into roles they'd rather die than assume. Her thin fingers and wrists were bedazzled with chunky costume jewelry, but her neck remained bare. Apart, of course, from the delicate silver pendant she rarely removed.

You couldn't help smiling at her. She was absolutely marvelous.

"Rhonda..." You began, trying not to peer down at the notes. "Died April 1963. Murdered by Alfons Manfredo, the guidance counselor. She was really into Beatnik Culture and was going to study Music at UC Berkeley." You wilted, looking down at the yearbook photo paperclipped to Rhonda Rosen's dossier. Rhonda stared up at you, the hint of a smile on her lips, clever eyes bright beneath layers of eyeliner and mascara. Your heart lurched.

"I used to watch her and her younger sister, Daria, when she was a child. Her father worked with ours. They lived in Cedar Bank." Ginny divulged, using her cigarette holder to point out the window as if to indicate the exact house. "Her older sister, Yetta, was a pain. Refused to babysit; too busy husband-hunting, but Rhonda was a hoot. Questioned everything." Ginny chuckled, rolling her eyes, "Pecked at me all day, asking this and that. Couldn't shut her up unless I put on a record and let her dance out all that energy." Her eyes went distant, a fond expression settling into her features. "Precocious. Would've changed the world if she'd been given the chance."

Your mother huffed, hovering over you as she rifled through the mound of documentation. "You skipped Janet Hamilton."

"Ooh, that idiot," Ginny slumped forward dramatically, an impression of being utterly disgusted by something. Your mother cleared her throat with intention, eyes narrowed in distaste. Ginny sighed and rolled her hand regally in your direction, "Alright, chicken, tell us what you know about her."

You stifled a giggle into the back of your hand, sharing a fond look with Andrew at Ginny's antics. "Okay, Janet. She died in 1960, but...I didn't see how...did I miss that?" You asked, scanning the sheet of paper you'd pulled from the dossier.

"No, sweetpea," Nanna assured, "There's no record of it that I ever found. Of course, by the time I started gathering information, a lot of time had passed." You could tell she was trying very hard to search her memory. Unfortunately, however, it seemed she kept finding only blank spaces.

"It was an accident of some sort," Ginny piped up. "Broke her neck somehow. Falling down the stairs, I think."

Nanna frowned, shaking her head at herself, "I vaguely recall some mention of it...honestly, you'd think I'd remember." The laugh that bubbled out of her was strained, tinged with disbelief. "She was my math tutor." A glance at Ginny to confirm, "I could've sworn it happened right before I started middle school."

"Don't look at me," Ginny scoffed, "Maybe you should scribble it down before you forget to again." She looked at Andrew, roping him into the joke, "You need to get your mother checked out, Drew, before she starts forgetting your birthday."

Positioning her reading glasses just above the tip of her nose, Nanna plucked the paper from your hand, adding, in beautiful cursive, a note about Janet's death. "You did forget his birthday last year..."

Ginny took a quick sip of her sherry, rushing to defend, "Oh pish, I did not. I told you, the gift was delayed." And then, as a side note, "Poor Reggie really is losing his mind," though she didn't sound worried about her old friend cum antique dealer. Rather, it was a pitying statement of fact, said in the manner most elderly people use when discussing each other's senility. She put her sifter down and whipped a taunting stare at Nanna, "You know, Babbigail, had either of you listened when I suggested you try the Sudoku, you wouldn't be losing your marbles quite so early."

"Oh, baldercrap," Nanna retaliated, "I'm just as sharp as I've always been!" She narrowed her eyes, mock-accusing, and presented to the room, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were cheating."

"Cheating?"

"I wouldn't put it past you to use spells all willy-nilly for your benefit."

Nanna winked at you when Ginny scoffed, outraged, straightening her spine and puffing out her chest, "Oh, how very dare you! My own sister!? Implying I would ever turn my back on the Circle!" She lifted the back of her bejeweled wrist to her brow, "Judas!"

You and Andrew dissolved into fits of laughter at the theatrics. Ginny and Nanna bickered often, always making a show of it for everyone's entertainment. It was one of many reasons that you were glad you were all under the same roof, even when it got crowded sometimes.

Behind you, your mother wasn't as amused by the performance, scoffing as she patted your head, reminding you to, "Focus, pumpkin, you only have two days to memorize all of this." She flashed an annoyed look between Nanna and Ginny, "If you're finished, maybe we could get back to it?"

Ginny sagged sideways against the back of the chaise longue, waving dismissively with her cigarette holder, "No need to get worked up, Alice. The girl has plenty of time to sort all this out." Still, she gestured for you to move on to the next student.

Bernadette King, died in 1968 after tragically falling off the spectator balcony at a dance in the gymnasium. Then Dawn Burton, died in 1972 by accidental electrocution. Next was Yuri Vyarheychyk, a transplanted Belarussian boy who'd succumbed to a fatal asthma attack in 1977.

"Are you guys sure I should go there?" You asked, face twisted in concern as you absorbed the seemingly endless pile of information on the table, evidence that too many awful things had transpired at Split River High before now. "It sounds kinda dangerous."

"You'll be fine," Ginny said, "You're too important. The Awen won't let anything happen to you." It sounded like something a great-aunt was obligated to say; that you were the 'most specialist of special children.' In a world where you'd witnessed something profoundly horrific take someone you'd considered more special than yourself, Ginny's statement was of little comfort.

Nanna reached across the table and petted your hand affectionately, tacking on, "You have nothing to worry about. We've all attended and we're just fine. Your sister actually really enjoyed herself."

You gave her a tight smile, "If you say so," then accepted the next dossier Andrew pulled out of the pile.

"We're getting into the '80s, now." He informed, eyes twinkling as he stared over your head at your mother. "Starting with the totally hunky football star—"

"Don't start," Your mother warned. You could feel the look on her face, something eye-twitchy and vexed.

Andrew snickered, rising to the challenge, and tapped his finger on the photo clipped to the front of the folder. It drew your attention down to a face that—your breath caught, an unusual warmth blossoming within you as you took in the young man grinning up at you from the photo. The print in the top right corner said his name was 'Walter James Clark'. He was...hot. Like center-of-the-sun hot. Soulful, brown eyes, kissable lips, hair swept back in a perfect 80s coif.

So strange, how you felt like you'd seen his face before. Heard his voice. Felt his touch. And where had those thoughts come from? You tensed in your seat, hoping no one noticed you couldn't peel your eyes away from Walter's face.

You weren't that lucky. Not in this family.

Andrew whistled, long and punctuating, forcing your blush to worsen. "I think girly's got a crush," He ruffled your hair obnoxiously, "Aurora had the same reaction when we put her through the paces. 'He's so hot, oh my god'," He mimicked in a high falsetto, "'If I could see ghosts, I'd literally ask him out, I don't care.'"

"Rory had to do this too?" You wondered, eyes never wavering from the photo in front of you.

"Of course she did, chicken. Everyone has to. Even your grandmother had to and she can't see ghosts." Ginny explained.

"But why? If Nanna and Rory can't see ghosts, what does it matter?"

Nanna smiled sweetly at you, "Understand, dear, connectedness doesn't always manifest fully at an early age like yours did. Before Aurora entered high school, her empathy was very subtle. Then, in her junior year, out of the blue, she could identify each ghost without batting an eye. If our Circle allowed it, I bet she would've had whole conversations with them without needing to see or hear them."

You knew Aurora's empathy was acute, how she could wield it like a weapon or a gift depending on her mood. You'd never tell her, but you found it pretty remarkable. Almost envied her for it. Your life would be much easier if you couldn't see the dead.

"That's why we do this, chicken. It's a contingency, just in case our powers manifest late or they mature faster than we have time to do something about it." Ginny elaborated and it made sense. Similar to Aurora and Nanna, Andrew hadn't had any indication that he would develop connectedness until much later, but now he gleaned incredible things from objects on command.

You didn't realize you'd been staring at Walter's photo the whole time, not once looking up to acknowledge those around you, until Nanna leaned over and voiced, "He was very handsome, wasn't he," obviously having been observing you, "And so respectful. His mother and I were in a book club together with some of the other moms from the school." Suddenly, her tone shifted, turning solemn, "Bea was hard on him, though. Drove him to be the best." She sighed, "I really felt for him."

You listened with half an ear, more interested in pondering what Walter had felt about the pressure his mother had supposedly put on him. Had he been equally as motivated? Or had he buckled under the weight of expectation?

A tiny sliver of your soul yearned to have the chance to ask him, ignoring for the moment the Golden Rule that your whole family lived by.

"Come on, pumpkin," Your mother's voice interrupted your thoughts, "we have a lot to go through and 2004 is going to be a doozy." She flipped open Walter's folder, thus forcefully removing his face from your line of sight, doing for you what you hadn't been able to do for yourself. You exhaled a shivery breath, swallowing thickly as you accepted the first of three typewriter-typed pages. Your mother pointed to the third line of the second paragraph, "Alright, let's start here..."

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Wally took a deep breath and held his head up.

Rhonda looked pissed. Charley, less so, and Maddie just looked stunned. Behind all of them, Ajay appeared haggard, eye twitching, as if he'd been attacked by a million questions the entire journey from the library to the rooftop.

Slowly, carefully, Wally helped you to your feet, tucked you into his side and bit his lip. He didn't know what to say to the others, how to apologize. Remembering the bus stop and Rhonda's anger, he was ready to be pushed off the roof.

Instead, you stepped forward and declared, "I made him promise." Staring Rhonda dead in the eye, giving her no ground; your chin up and shoulders squared. "You wanna get mad, get mad at me." You shot Wally a small smile, turned back to Rhonda and added, "It's only been a day, anyway. Hardly anything worth having a fit over."

Everyone went fucking still. Including Maddie, who was only recently getting to know Rhonda better. Charley put a few inches between himself and Rhonda, Ajay pinched his brow, and Maddie just watched. Waited to see if she'd have to intervene or not.

She didn't. Because Rhonda snuffed a dry, intrigued-sounding chuckle, stuck her lollipop in her mouth and said, "No need to get your panties in a twist, kittyclaws, I was just making an observation." She visibly relaxed. Well, as much as Rhonda ever relaxed. More that her standoffish demeanor lessened by a degree.

Okay. Things weren't totally FUBAR.

That was good. Right?

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Wally and Ajay had successfully smuggled you into the school and up to the roof, managing to keep you from being caught. There had been one close call when Barry had treaded around a corner, flashlight up, demanding to know if anyone was there when your sneaker had squeaked against the linoleum.

You'd watched in fascination as Ajay had manipulated his ghostliness to his advantage. He'd marched right up to Barry who, as a living person, had been unconsciously driven to avoid the invisible obstacle, his brain having fed him some rationalization or excuse that had sent him on his way. Piece of cake.

The air was colder on the roof, but Wally kept you close, his warmth seeping into your skin. Something that shouldn't have been possible given how he was a ghost, yet Wally felt as solid and alive as you did. You took advantage of how impossibly present he was as you confessed what'd happened to your little brother—Aiden. Died in 2017 at the age of six. Let Wally comfort and soothe you. Lapped up his kindness and affection, and fortified yourself with it.

And then: "Wow. You weren't kidding. They really can't keep their hands off each other."

Ah, shit.

You sniffed, patted your cheeks dry, gave Wally a nod of assurance, and proceeded to get to your feet. I hope this is worth it, you thought, scanning the faces of two more ghosts you weren't supposed to talk to yet had invited to meet you in the middle of the night. Clandestine and awkward.

Rhonda Rosen was exactly how Ginny had described. Caustic, cold; all clever eyes and fuck-the-world stances as she stripped back your layers and found your weak spots without even trying. Beside her, Charley Morino. Frosted tips and Canadian tuxedo. Shier, kinder, yet cautious, his gaze burning a hole through your skull as he studied you.

You noticed Rhonda seemed to be gearing up to yell, to chew Wally out, to do something, so you immediately stepped in. Told her where to direct her anger.

You were pleasantly surprised when she didn't charge at you like a battering ram or start shouting. It made it easier to bring the focus back to why you wanted to meet everyone. Sort of. Because now you were just being stared at by Rhonda and Charley as if you were part of a circus act.

"How can he touch you?" Rhonda broke the silence, "We usually repel the living like a bad smell," and her eyes were glued to where Wally's hand returned to your hip.

"Uh, I don't know." You admitted. "I think it's because I can astral project, but that's just an assumption." You gave her a sheepish smile, bit your lip and glanced up at Wally just to remind yourself that he was there.

"You can what?" Both Charley and Ajay gawked, but Rhonda was already asking another question. Actually, demanding information might've been a better way to describe it.

First, she shot an unimpressed glance between Ajay and Charley, muttering, "Seriously, guys, we're ghosts haunting a high school. You don't think other things can be real, too?" And then she accused rather abrasively, "You said it's been a day and you guys are already running to third base?"

Wally coughed. You dropped your gaze to the ground and felt your face heat.

Stepping into the space beside Rhonda, Ajay said, "Don't blame them. It's this mYsTeRiOuS cOnNeCtIoN they have." Off-put and parental, obviously not trying to salvage anyone's dignity. "I dare you to try and separate them without it being their choice." You didn't realize that Wally also sent Ajay a scowl until Ajay rolled his eyes and told Wally, "Bro, tell me I'm wrong."

Directed to you, "So, you're not like Simon. You can see every ghost that's around?" Charley wondered.

You began to feel overwhelmed. Squirming under their attention, your eyes flicked up to their faces and then back down to your shoes as you tried to put your thoughts in order. Although you understood their curiosity, you really just wanted to get back to helping Simon and, by extension, Maddie.

Wally seemed to sense the change in you. From confident to wanting to bury your head in the sand. His hand rubbed your side and he pressed a sweet kiss into your hair, trying to convey that everything was alright, that he had your back.

That's when you noticed everyone's attention turned to something you couldn't see. There was a flicker. A shadow. There and gone. Right at the end of the line Ajay, Rhonda, and Charley stood in. Fuck...shit...how had you missed it? It had to be Maddie.

You didn't have a chance to ask because, suddenly, everyone looked startled, their gazes shooting after that invisible something, and then Wally's free hand shot out, held in midair for a moment.

"Whoa, hey, wait a second," He said, bringing you that much tighter against his body as if protecting you from an attack.

You saw that same shadow, another flicker, only this time there was an arc of energy that came with it. Close and pushing against you. You heard a voice so faint it could've been nothing. The impression of pleading, yearning, hurt, desperation sliced the air as that energy spiked against you. It felt like the sharp ends of a sea urchin's spines poking into your skin.

Wally placed his hand right on the edge of the shadow and suddenly—

You gasped, going very, very still as your mouth fell open and your eyes bulged. Your heart ached, stomach clenched, tears sprung to your eyes, and you stammered a blunt, emotional, "Sh-shit."

Everyone, including Wally, watched you in wonder, completely oblivious to the miracle that had just occurred when Wally had touched the shadow. Everyone including a perfectly solid and intact—

"Maddie?"

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Wally took back his hand as if burned, gaping at you as you stared at Maddie. He'd felt it. The difference you'd suggested there was between him and Maddie. She'd felt just that little bit other when he'd touched her. Thinner somehow. Set apart.

Aside from Simon being able to see her, that further proved your theory about Maddie being trapped in an In Between. Which meant that, holy shit, she really wasn't dead. And Wally had believed you, had no reason not to; but it was finally sinking in that Maddie had a chance to live again. Her body was out there somewhere, waiting for her to return to it.

As soon as he removed his hand from Maddie's shoulder, you grabbed him by the wrist and begged, "No, do it again!"

Wally had no idea why until he saw your eyes scanning the spot Maddie stood as if she wasn't there.

Tentatively, giving Maddie a soft look, he returned his hand to her shoulder. For her part, Maddie was visibly shaken, seemed like she wanted to step back, away from you and Wally, confused about what was going on.

She'd rushed forward too fast that Wally had reacted to her as if she'd been about to tackle you. He should've known Maddie wouldn't hurt you, not just because you and she were friends, but because he couldn't imagine Maddie intentionally hurting anyone. It'd been instinct, the connection overpowering logic, driving him to protect you.

Apologizing, "I'm sorry, Mads. I know you weren't gonna do anything bad," He squeezed her shoulder before checking back with you.

Sure enough, you were still as a statue. Simply stared in shock at Maddie like it was the first time you'd ever seen her. Then, in a flurry of motion, you surged forward and hugged her tight.

"Oh my God, Maddie, I can see you!" You choked, sinking into her as she hugged you back just as tight.

Maddie was shaking, you were crying, and Wally stood there awkwardly with one hand on Maddie's shoulder and the other loosely on your waist.

Ajay, Rhonda, and Charley observed the proceedings in various states of disbelief and uncertainty. Rhonda was outwardly cynical, though Wally could tell she was unnerved by the whole situation. Questions crowded her eyes; she wanted to analyze, to get answers, to understand and pass judgement.

Charley seemed sweetly confused and looked to Ajay for answers he didn't have, while Ajay's eyebrows shot up and his head tilted like a lost puppy. You'd briefly explained to Ajay that you couldn't see Maddie, so he had some idea of what was transpiring, but he obviously hadn't expected to be so...anticlimactic, Wally guessed. Similar to how Wally was feeling.

Was this it? Was this all it took for Maddie to exist in your cosmic circle? Wally's interference?

"What's happening?" Charley finally asked when no one else appeared to want to say anything, "What's wrong with Maddie?"

Wally breathed in and out, said, "She couldn't see Maddie...until I touched her." He patted your side to get your attention, "Baby, what changed?" Though he felt like he already knew. He was the bridge. A connection between you and the parts of the metaphysical world you weren't privy to. You and he shared a soul-tie.

God.

Rhonda didn't let you speak, barreled ahead with her own question, "Why couldn't she see Maddie?"

You released Maddie slowly, addressing her rather than Rhonda when you responded, "You're in an In Between."

Maddie frowned, gaze shifting between you and Wally, "An In Between?"

Instead of going into detail, you offered her your hand, smiled softly, and stated, "Maddie...you're alive."

💀___________________________

PART TWENTY-ONE - PART TWENTY-THREE

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

[holyblonded]

Is estrella always a menace with all couple or just alexia/olga and ona/lucy?

— alexia and olga are her prime targets, she lives with them so she has endless ammo. she walks into a room, sees them sitting together, and immediately goes “wow, the old married couple is at it again.” alexia just sighs, while olga playfully throws a pillow at her.

— ona and lucy are just fun. oh, she lives to bother them. she calls lucy “grandma bronze” and dramatically tells ona “blink twice if you need help, amor. i know dating the elderly is hard.” ona always tries to fight back, but lucy just laughs it off, which annoys estrella even more.

— when it comes to christen and tobin, she tries to be a menace, but they just look at her with this parental fondness, like “oh, our troublesome child.” she once made a joke about their age, and christen calmly replied, “we should ground you.” estrella backed off real quick.

— but her all time favorites to bother are marta and caro. estrella has no respect for marta and caro’s peace.

— she once saw them holding hands before a match and immediately went, “ew, disgusting. keep that honeymoon phase shit away from me.” caro just rolled her eyes, but marta chased her. estrella had to sprint through the training ground to escape.

— if caro scores and marta runs to hug her, estrella dramatically shields her eyes like she’s witnessing something scandalous. “oh my god, think of the children!”

— when they post cute couple pictures, she comments “this is so unnecessary” but then secretly likes the post and reposts it on her story anyway.

— she loves playing the little sister role with them. if she ever needs something, she goes straight to caro with her innocent voice, “mi favorita… can you help me?” marta, hearing this: “what the hell did you just say?”

— but for all the teasing, she adores them. she once overheard someone talking shit about caro, and before marta could even react, estrella was already in their face. marta had to physically hold her back.

— caro once jokingly called her “our annoying child” and estrella, without thinking, went “mami? sorry. mami? sorry.” marta lost it.

[sashiavi]

I tried to go through all your post to see if you ever did an animal for Elliot!

Just wondering if you came up for an animal for him. I love all your writings about the sdv hybrids so i would love to see what you come up with.

I’ve been thinking about Elliot as an animal but i think he would be good as a fox (the hair) or maybe even selkie since he lives on the beach

anyways love your work! <3

Hybrid!Elliott - What Suits Him Best?

Ahh it's true I haven't gotten anything for Elliott yet </3 I think I really struggle to capture him/embody the features I want to push within a narrative, but-! For You, my Dearest Anon~ let's try a little deep dive~

I've never truly sat down to appreciate him, and I do feel a little bad, he's so darling and handsome ♡

A Fox would suit him quite nice I think, a little quiet, reserved and out of the way - very intelligent and timid, but definitely opens up with time ♡

Sort of thinking of the characteristics of a fox, he is quite ambitious but I don't particularly see him as a trickster.. But he is so darling and cute, doing his best to keep his nipping fangs to himself, tail swishing behind him as he silently accompanies you back to the farm after a long Friday Night...

There's a glint in his eye, a flick of greeny-bronze shined by the firelight of your living room. Oh how darling you look beneath him, face down, ass up- his clawed hands delicately threatening to peirce into your skin, little fangs grazing your neck, nose scenting the supple spot behind your ear..

I also think a Bunny or a Hare would fit him too! Mostly because of the imagery of the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland hehe ~ So proper and well dressed!

With that, I like the idea of him really, really trying to keep himself in check, not letting those silly secondary instincts roll over him and push past his manners.

But it's hard to hide when his tall and fluffy ear twitches, his cotton tail wags behind his coat- his dress shoe tap, tap, taps against the ground in an impatient thump - an action he didn't mean, truly! He can't help the poor ache behind his trouser seam, the sting of his belt buckle digging into his navel~

Bunny stamina is truly no joke! Elliott's hips snap and fuck, humping quick little pushes of his drooly cock into you~ Yoba, he slips out and barely even realises, silly hips still continuing their squirming, pudgy bunny tip knocking lovingly into your clit over and over.

And finally~ I think he could also be a Deer!Hybrid. A mature buck, aged finely, oh so gentle and doting, so caring and especially protective.

He would take such extra special care of his antlers, looking so clean and proper, preened in his appearance, always looking to elegant and put together. He is still quite the weary man, of course, but his efforts help him gain up the courage to approach you.

As timid and shy as deer come, it doesn't stop Elliott from mounting you, using the thick blessing between his legs to sweetly bully into your sweetness. His forearms rest above your head, his neck bared to your face, keeping you nice and caged in, protected from his antlers, from his urge to nip, from the outside of the sweet little space he'd created.

Rest assured his sweet Deer tail wags with joy, spotted back arching as your nails dig sweetly into his skin. It's okay... Of course you can cling on to his burly shoulders, wrap your thighs around his spotted hips, just helps him push his thick Buck cock into your little cunt ♡

Also random? Whenever I think of the SDV Bachelors as monster boys I always picture Elliott as a centaur hehe

Some Elliot Food ♡ I hope I could deliver well!

[star-crossed-fates]

Even My Damnation Spells Your Name

Chapter 2: Where the Stars Went Dark

Synopsis: In a city of steel and stars, you fall in love with a man the world calls a monster. He looks at you like you’ve haunted every life he’s ever lived. Sylus is danger wrapped in silk, secrets stitched into every glance, every touch, every word spoken like a spell. He’s yours before you even realize what you’re remembering.

Because this isn’t the first time.

Dreams unravel you. Memories not your own. A dragon’s death cry. A kiss beneath bloodied skies. A love too eternal to stay buried. As the past bleeds into the present, you begin to piece together the truth. Some memories burn brighter than the stars, others wound deeper than any blade.

And love, no matter how timeless, always demands a price.

Pairing: Female! MC [Named] x Sylus

Rating: Explicit 18+ [MDNI]

Spoilers: Sylus's myth cards/memories. Please note: memories might be a little different than from game for story purposes.

Warnings: NSFW, Explicit smut, including various kinks: Praise, degradation talk, first time, CP, DP, anal sex/play, probably some Dragon!Sylus smut, maybe a lot of it. Many, many more that I'm forgetting to list. Consider yourself warned. - Unlikely to be completely canon. - MC is named. Her personality is darker than in the game, far more morally grey. - Switching between MC's memories/dreams/flashbacks and current timeline. - Other love interests will not show up in this. - Some plot, but not super planned out. Basically, this is a "what if the closer they became, the more MC remembers her life with him on Philos.

Sylus pulls off a quiet country road a couple hours outside of Linkon, the hum of the car dropping to a lulling purr as he turns onto a path flanked by thick trees. The forest wraps around you in a cocoon of shadow and green. Dappled sunlight flickers through the canopy, and your brow quirks.

“If you’re planning to kill me and dump my body in a ravine, at least have the decency to lie about it,” you propose.

He doesn’t even glance over. “You’ve watched too many bad horror movies.”

“Well, I mean, if the knife fits—”

“I wouldn’t need a ravine,” he interrupts, voice dry. “If I wanted you gone, I’d just—”

A dozen red tendrils slither out of nowhere, his Evol wrapping around your wrists and curling at your throat like hungry vines. They pulse with a heartbeat that’s not yours, brushing your skin in a way that should be threatening.

You roll your eyes and lean back in your seat. “Thank god. At least the bugs wouldn’t get to eat me.”

There’s the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth, almost a smile. He drives on in silence for a few more minutes, the trees thickening, until you spot a massive bronze gate. A tall wall stretches in either direction, disappearing into the forest like some ancient fortress hidden away from time.

Sylus rolls to a stop, places his hand on a glowing scanner, and the gate creaks open with a sound like a yawning beast. The road beyond is cobbled and winds gently uphill, lined with trimmed hedges. You lean forward in your seat, wide-eyed, craning your neck as the treetops thin just enough to reveal what lies ahead.

Spires peek above the treetops like a crown. One final bend in the road, and you come into a wide, circular clearing paved in old stones worn smooth with age.

A castle.

An actual, honest-to-god castle.

Towers, ivy-covered stone walls. Iron balconies. Archways and stained glass and carved gargoyles perched high above. The kind of place that belongs in a fairytale or a war-torn legend. You just stare, stunned and grinning and maybe a little in love with the ridiculous, beautiful absurdity of it all.

Sylus’s shoes echo across the marble as he walks in, your overnight bag slung carelessly over his shoulder. The scent of old stone and polished wood curls in the air. You spin in place slowly, taking in the soaring archways lining the corridor. He gestures you into a grand hallway. It opens up into a sprawling sitting room filled with modern couches. The fireplace is massive, with a mantle made of dark-stained oak and a few flames already dancing.

“The fireplace is automated,” he remarks casually. “Motion sensors. Don’t get excited. I’m not that domestic.”

“Damn. I was hoping you’d chop some wood shirtless while I watched from the window.”

Sylus flashes you a crooked grin. “You’re always watching me.”

You lift a brow. “Can you blame me?”

Without a reply, he turns and leads you through a wide archway into what can only be described as the fanciest dining room you’ve ever seen. The table is long enough to host a minor royal summit, flanked with plush chairs and lit by three glimmering chandeliers.

“Let me guess,” you deadpan, “this is where you host formal blood rituals.”

Sylus chuckles. “Only on Wednesdays.”

You’re shown several rooms as you move through the first floor, each stranger and more striking than the last. One chamber opens to reveal a single antique organ standing sentinel in the center of the space, its black lacquer gleaming faintly under the low light. A single, high-backed chair sits a precise distance from the instrument, facing a tall, cathedral-like window. Outside, moonlight spills over a sweeping estate—lush gardens etched in silver, a reflecting pool as still as glass, and the far-off silhouettes of pines standing guard at the perimeter.

The next room is an observatory masquerading as a dream. The ceiling soars upward into a dome made entirely of glass, framed by dark steel ribs like the bones of a celestial creature. The sky appears endless, dusted with stars that breath with you.

Sylus pushes open two great doors to a massive indoor pool that immediately confiscates your breath. It stretches wide beneath a ceiling of skylights, painting the surface in waves of sapphire and silver. Built-in LED strips pulse faintly along the edges, giving the water an ethereal luminescence. Minimalist lounge chairs line one side on a platform of teak wood, and in the far corner, a small bar glows under low pendant lighting, bottles glinting like stained glass.

It’s modern decadence tucked inside a secret Eden.

You let out a breathless laugh. “Are you kidding me? This is… this is, like, a villain’s secret spa.”

Sylus leans in the doorway, arms crossed, watching you with quiet amusement. “Sweetie, I am a villain. Try to keep up.”

Walking along the edge of the pool, you dip your fingers into the warm blue. “I don’t know. I expected more skulls. Or at least a shark tank.”

“That’s downstairs next to the oubliette,” he replies smoothly. “This is where I lure my prey into a false sense of security.”

You laugh softly and turn to face him. “So… which room’s ours?”

That earns you a lift of his brow. “Ours? Confident, aren’t we?”

You close the distance between you until the heat between your bodies could start its own weather system. “I’m just being efficient,” you say, tugging lightly at the hem of his shirt. “Why waste time pretending we don’t want the same thing?”

“Careful, kitten,” he warns, curving toward you like a secret, mouth grazing your ear with the gentlest threat of touch. “You play like that, and I might start thinking you’re mine.”

Fuck. Damn him. He says it like temptation made audible, the kind of voice that steals rational thought and replaces it with daydreams you’d never admit aloud. You’re not sure if it’s foreplay or a declaration of war. Should you flee the room or ask him to say it again with fewer clothes involved?

He chuckles as if he’s reading your thoughts, the sound chasing down your spine as he reaches to take your hand, his fingers lacing easily with yours. “I’ll show you where we sleep.”

Sylus’s hand brushes the small of your back as he guides you up a grand staircase, a subtle touch that lingers just long enough to make your spine tingle. The higher you go, the quieter it gets. Even your breath feels hushed here, like the stone walls are holding secrets.

He pauses at the end of a corridor and gestures toward the final door. “After you.”

You step in, and your brain immediately blue-screens. The room is massive. Minimalist, in that sleek, modern way that somehow still feels warm. The floors are smooth stone; the walls a combination of polished concrete and original brickwork left exposed like bones.

But it’s the bed that steals your attention.

It’s enormous. Silken charcoal sheets. Fluffy pillows. A headboard that looks like it could double as a crime scene if you were into that sort of thing. Spoiler alert: You are.

You blink. “Do you live like this all the time?”

Sylus tosses your bag into a sleek armchair near the windows. “Only when I feel like indulging.”

You flop face-first onto the mattress and groan into the pillows. “You mean existing?”

“Exactly. I’m a man of simple tastes. Opulence. Power. You.”

You lift your head enough to squint at him. “Did you just include me in the same list as power?”

“You’re much more dangerous.”

He moves past you, heading toward a set of double doors on the left wall. You follow on instinct, trailing him into what might be the largest ensuite bathroom you’ve ever seen in your life.

The tub is a marble monolith sunk into the floor, framed by soft lighting and wide enough to comfortably fit a small squadron. Beside it, there’s a glass-walled rainfall shower, multiple jets lining the wall like they were designed by someone who thought a regular shower lacked ambition. There’s a double vanity and a mirror so huge it reflects infinity if you look at it long enough.

You whistle. “That tub could drown a village.”

“Or host one. You should see it with the lights off—there’s LED starlights in the ceiling. Very relaxing.”

You arch a brow. “You? Relaxing?”

He shrugs. “Occasionally. When bribed.”

You stroll past him again, fingers brushing his waist as you go. “Good thing I’m very convincing.”

“Sweetie, you could convince me to burn the world down if you asked nicely.”

You pause mid-step, looking back at him with a slow, crooked smile. “What if I asked not nicely?”

He’s there in a blink—close, so damn close—his voice brushing your cheek like the start of a sin. “Then I’d ask where to start.”

Your heart stumbles. Not the soft, fluttery kind of stumble, but a full-on, trip-over-your-own-feet, crash-into-the-floorboards disaster. It plummets into your stomach and detonates there, making you clench involuntarily, dragging your breath with it.

He smells like the beginning of a bad decision. The kind you’d make twice just to feel it again.

Why don’t you kiss him? Holy fuck, you are so tired of yourself. You’ve fought Wanderers with jaws full of stars and skin like broken galaxies, but apparently leaning in half an inch is where your courage draws the line. Amazing. Truly inspiring.

Just kiss him, you absolute coward.

You don’t. Again.

Instead, you give him a breathless laugh and step back like the world isn’t seconds from catching fire between you. Like you didn’t just mentally lock lips with him and doom yourself to years of fantasizing about a kiss that hasn’t even happened yet.

Sylus leaves you to “get situated,” which translates to: test the bed’s bounce (solid A+ with a bonus for dramatics), peek into every drawer like a nosy raccoon (all empty—coward), and then spend far too long in the en-suite bathroom convincing yourself you’re not panicking.

You are, in fact, absolutely panicking.

The mirror’s huge, the lighting is somehow both flattering and judgmental, and the counter is a crime scene of your toiletries. You cycle through three different lip colours trying to find the one that says, I didn’t try; I just naturally look kissable while also screaming, Please notice me, I beg you. You change your hairstyle twice, then undo both because they look like you tried. Eventually, you settle on an intentional “accidental” look: soft waves and a touch of gloss. You look… passable. You look like someone who wouldn’t mind being ravaged against a wall.

Cool. Chill. Normal.

When you try to walk out of the room like a functioning adult, you immediately get lost. You take one wrong turn, and suddenly the hallway is longer than a moral debate.

You’re not going to admit it, of course. You’re just… exploring. Leisurely. No panic involved when the hallway you thought led to the foyer instead dumps you into what appears to be a small music room with a harp you’re 99% sure has never been played. You double back, end up in a sitting room with an actual globe bar cart, then a library.

By the time you locate the living room, you’re a little winded and a lot triumphant. You don’t even bother with subtlety—just stride in and throw yourself dramatically onto the sprawling couch next to Sylus, who glances over lazily from where he’s nursing a glass of something amber and expensive-looking.

“Get turned around?” he asks, voice too casual.

You pause. “Nope. Exploring. This place is sprawling.”

He hums, nodding as he plays along with your fib. “Next time I’ll give you a map. Or a flare.”

The pool is ridiculous. The water glows a gentle blue, heated just enough to lull every muscle into submission. There’s a faint hum of something orchestral drifting from somewhere. Maybe it’s speakers; maybe this castle is haunted by a tragically romantic ghost with a penchant for Debussy.

Either way, you’re into it.

Sylus brings chilled wine. Two glasses, perfectly poured, the bottle resting in a sleek ice bucket perched beside the stone steps. He sets one down for you before wading into the water like a panther sinking into a lake without rippling the surface. You watch as he makes his way to the far end, settling into a recliner that’s built into the shallow ledge. Half-submerged, legs stretched out, head tilted just enough to look like a brooding Renaissance painting come to life.

You try not to stare.

Fail immediately.

God, look at him. His body looks like it was carved by the divine hand of someone who had an unhealthy obsession with symmetry and sin. Broad chest, lean waist, abs sharp enough to shred resolve.

You take a long sip of wine, but it does nothing to cool the heat curling low in your belly. He lounges there, hair damp and tousled, silver clinging to his skin like the aftermath of a dream you haven’t earned the right to remember. Moonlight slips down his shoulders, pooling in the hollow of his throat.

His eyes—ruby, but not the delicate kind. No, they gleam like garnets set in flame, like blood turned to crystal and made to burn. They watch you like they’re starving. Like you’re the first taste after a long, cruel fast.

He looks like desire sculpted into flesh, and you would let yourself be devoured.

You take another sip. Okay. It’s more of a gulp.

It’s not your fault. This man looks like temptation distilled into human form. You’re half-convinced that if you pressed your mouth to his skin, he’d taste like ambrosia steeped in secrets, wine sipped in the dark, warm honey laced with ruin, the kind of sweetness that stains your soul.

You’ve never wanted anything more.

And he’s just sitting there. Probably plotting the downfall of three governments while you’re over here wondering what the protocol is for gracefully melting into chlorinated water because you can’t stop ogling your boyfriend’s collarbones.

He lifts his glass and takes a casual sip. You stare at his throat as it moves.

You’re going to drown.

Not in the pool. In thirst.

Sylus glances over, one brow arching with the faintest curl of a smirk. “Enjoying the view?”

You lift your wine glass to hide your expression. “Just appreciating the, uh… architectural integrity.”

“Of the pool?”

“Of you.” It slips out.

He huffs a quiet breath of amusement, lounging back again as if utterly unbothered by the spontaneous combustion of your dignity. “Drink slower,” he cajoles, voice lazy, rough around the edges like gravel softened by rain. “Or I’ll have to fish you out of the deep end when you pass out.”

You down the rest of the glass as he watches you with a look that says you’re already in over your head.

You absolutely are.

Sylus, of course, is doing absolutely nothing to help. Lounging like some half-drowned god, wet silver hair tousled like a sin you haven’t dared commit yet, one arm draped along the backrest and the other tracing slow circles in the water.

You sigh. Loudly. Dramatically. “You’re doing that on purpose.”

He tilts his head lazily, as if he’s been pulled from deep thought. “Doing what?”

“You know what. That face. That pose. The whole dripping wet, tragic villain look.”

“Ah,” he chuckles, a sound that burns like a hypnotic spell. “So you’ve been staring.”

You drift closer, kicking just enough to stay upright. “Please. I’ve been critiquing.”

A bead of water slides from the end of his hair. It clings to the tip of a silver strand, glimmers, and then drops. It lands with a quiet plip right onto his chest.

You stare. Before your brain can stop your mouth, you blurt, “If one more drop lands on your chest, I’m suing the universe for emotional damage.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Are you planning to make it a class action?”

“Absolutely. Widespread suffering. The abs alone are a health hazard.”

A second drip falls. Your breath stutters.

You point. “Okay. That’s it. I’m taking this up with management.”

He grins, slow and wicked. “Sweetie, I am management.”

You pretend to ponder this very serious development. “Then I demand compensation.”

“And what,” he asks, voice silken and low, “would that entail?”

You pause. Float just a little closer, your knees brushing his. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“Hmm,” he says, watching you through lashes thick with water. “Should I prepare myself for something terrible?”

“I was thinking something thorough.”

He laughs—laughs, the bastard—and leans back again, just a little. “You’re playing a dangerous game, kitten.”

“No,” you correct, voice more breath than sound, “I’m done pretending I don’t want this.”

You don’t give him time to respond before you press forward and kiss him. It starts tentatively. Testing. Just lips brushing lips. He tastes like heat and shadows at midnight, like he’s been waiting for this moment with the kind of patience that frays at the edges.

His hand finds your hip beneath the water; meanwhile, yours curls at the back of his neck, fingers tangling in damp silver. The world narrows down to breath, warmth, and the feeling of being wanted so deeply it steals something out of you.

He kisses like a promise, and you kiss back like a dare. Your mouths move together like a language long forgotten. The gentle tease of his tongue against yours draws a small sound from your throat, something helpless and miserably wanting.

He answers it with a low, rough, barely restrained groan and kisses you harder, deeper. The kiss burns through your lungs, leaving your skin buzzing with every flick and drag of his mouth on yours. The kind of kiss that says I’ve wanted this, I’ve waited, and I’m not letting go now that I have you.

The wind doesn’t whistle; it howls. Rips through you like a scream torn from the throat of the world. It tears at your hair, your skin, and your breath. The sky above is torn in half, bruised gold bleeding into war-torn grey. Clouds churn like a storm you forgot how to outrun, and ash spirals through the air like black snow. Your arms flail, your lungs burn, and below you, the ground is a graveyard.

You’re plummeting.

The air rushes faster than thought. There’s no sound but the roar of the sky and the thundering panic in your chest. Obsidian wings slice the heavens open, their edges glowing with infernal red. He collides with you mid-fall, shields you, wraps himself around you. Heat rolls off in waves, shadow swallowing everything in his path. It smells like fire and stormlight.

Like the end of something beautiful.

Wings snap wide and beat once, twice, driving you both back into the sky. The momentum pins you, and you cling harder, burying your face into scales that are hot and slick with blood or sweat or both.

You feel his body shudder beneath you. Tremble. No, tremble isn’t the right word. This is something deeper. This is grief given form. You lift your head, and then it’s quiet.

The kind of stillness that only happens after something sacred has been shattered.

Your fingers tighten on his hide. Your heart is breaking, tearing in half like paper soaked in flame. “Wake up,” you rasp. “Wake up, damn you.”

He turns his head and blinks as if his eyelids are heavy. The red of his eyes flickers once. They’re beautiful. They’re wrong. They’re full of a sorrow so deep it makes your bones ache.

And they’re looking at you like he already knows this is the end. Like he’s grateful.

You shake hard. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare!”

His mouth moves. A breath. Maybe a word. You can’t hear it, but you feel it.

I’m sorry.

No! No, no, no! Rage claws its way up your throat, twining with grief until it becomes something else entirely. A raw, feral sound rips out of you that is ugly, wet, and ruined as you slam your fists against him.

Blood coats your hands.

His. All his.

He closes his eyes. You scream again, a sound that fractures the sky, and somewhere far away, something listens.

You’re still screaming when you break the surface, a sound that's been clawed from your ribcage. Your hands are flailing, grabbing, pushing, trying to hold something that isn’t there. You don’t feel the water anymore. You’re still there, cradling something dying in the ruins of a world you don’t recognize, soaked in blood that doesn’t belong to you.

You scream again, louder, uglier. A sob slips out after it, uncontrollable, ragged. The sound of heartbreak that doesn’t have a name. Your chest rises and falls like it’s trying to escape itself.

You don’t realize you’re being held.

Strong arms wrap around you, tight and grounding, but you shove against them blindly, crying so hard your vision blurs into streaks of red and shadow.

“No! don’t! Don’t die. I said don’t—” The words come like incomplete, nonsensical shards.

“Kitten—Anira—look at me.”

His voice cuts through. Low, calm, but not cold. His hands are on either side of your face now, firm, thumbs brushing away tears he can’t keep up with. You blink, gasping, choking on sobs and water and something far worse than all of it.

Reality stutters back in pieces.

Blue tiles. Warm water. A glowing ceiling above you like moonlight trapped in glass. Sylus. Hands trembling just slightly as he holds your face like it’s the most breakable thing he’s ever touched.

You hiccup a sob. “I don’t—I don’t know what that was.”

His brow furrows, something old and knowing behind his gaze. He just pulls you into his chest. Lets you shake. Lets you cry. One hand strokes down your spine in long, steady sweeps, grounding you in the now.

“You’re safe,” he says into your hair, voice velveted with restraint. “You’re with me. You’re safe.”

But the ache inside you says otherwise, because something inside you just died all over again.

Chapter Masterlist A03 [Cross-posted] Taglist: @mcdepressed290 As you can probably tell, I like to add humour into these, so don't expect all angst and depression inducing sorrow. I mean... expect those, too, but not always 😅

[loveshotzz]

I hope I’m not late for request this🥹:

[inside one muses’s office] with AIRWIY!Steve? And reader give him his first blowjob?🥹

So this one got a little out of hand, but 🥺 I love him and he deserves the best head in the world if you ask me. Thank you for your request! 💕 I hope you like it!

older!steve x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ age gap, new established relationship, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, smidge of size kink, smidge of daddy kink, finger sucking, swallowing.

wc: 2.8k

A/N: This request is apart of my completed series All I Really Want Is You, but can be read as a stand alone. For those that read the series this takes place shortly after chapter ten.

It was supposed to be a nice lunch in his office on your day off. You weren’t supposed to be giving him elevator eyes from the other side of his desk while he complained to you about his day. But no one had warned you about what middle of the work day Steve looked like. Not quite as dishievied as the end of it when he’s checking his mail, but not put together like when you see him leave his house through your bedroom window when the sun is barely touching the sky. More importantly, you didn’t know about the glasses.

The thin silver frames sit perched on the end of his nose with hair that looks like he just started running his hands through it. The slicked back style it began the day in still sticks to some of his auburn locks while the rest develop a crazed mind of their own. He had popped open the top two buttons of his crisp white dress shirt, revealing a matching tank top underneath and the beginnings of the soft dark thatch of hair that covers his chest. His sleeves are rolled up to the middle of his forearms, and the tan he still has left over from the last few days of summer makes his skin look bronzed. The scruff that lines his jaw is thicker today than he’d usually allow too, but that’s because he’d forgotten his razor in your bathroom the last night he slept over. 

God, he was handsome. 

“Wrapping up at the end of a season, especially one where we didn’t make it to the finals has been nightmare, honey.” He rubs his eyes from under his glasses leaning back in his seat. 

He was stressed too.

The leather squeaks with his movements, and your gaze finds its way to his newly revealed waist. His black dress slacks are pulled tight over his thighs, and the silver buckle of his belt gleams when it hits the sun spilling in from his office windows. 

“Just one more week till your vacation,” you remind him gently, your fingers playing with the hem of the sundress and you catch the way his eyes track your movements, wetting his lips.

“One more week till I get to have you all for myself.” He counters, making you giddy at the thought of your first trip together to New York, “enough about my day though. Let me get a better look at this pretty dress you’re wearin’, is it new?” 

There’s heat flickering behind his gaze when he gestures for you to stand in front of him, something a little mischievous in his grin that makes your skin buzz.

“Yeah, I got it at Lost Girls after work the other day. I’d been looking at it for a while through the window, thought I’d do something nice for myself.” Your nerves make you ramble as you get up, but Steve thinks it’s cute. He thinks everything you do is cute.

“It’s really, really nice baby,” he praises when you get in front of him letting his eyes roam all the ways it hugs your curves just right, like it was made custom for your body and his slacks get a little tighter. “You look so beautiful, give me a little twirl.”

Your face burns like it’s the middle of June at his request, and the golden emerald of his eyes get darker from behind his lenses. The air around you both turns electric when your already short hem flutters out around the tops of your thighs, spinning around twice for him, just enough to give a glimpse of the red lace that hugs your ass cheeks underneath. 

“You gonna be wearing this tonight when I pick you up for dinner?” He asks with big hands reaching out for you, begging you to get closer.

“I didn’t know we had plans tonight.” You giggle letting your wedges carry you to the space he made for you between his legs. The cedar and spice of his cologne envelopes your senses when you get close enough for his hands to find the back of your thighs pulling you to him with a squeal.

The whites of his teeth show when he looks up at you with a smile that steals your breath away, squeezing at the soft dough under his palms.

“What kinda boyfriend would I be if I didn’t show you off any chance I got?” The pads of his thumbs swipe against the hem of the lace that meets at the curve of your ass, butterflies in your stomach because you’ll never get used to hearing him say that.

“Yeah, I’ll wear it, handsome.” You agree, making him hum in approval. 

He lets you run your fingers through the soft silk of his hair, silver strands showing themselves to you in a mess of dirty blonde and auburn as you scratch along his scalp. Steve groans at the feeling and it goes straight to your core, his long fingers tightening around the plush of your thighs, leaning his forehead against the soft pudge of your tummy with his eyes closed.

“Fuck,” He mumbles against you, the wheels on his chair roll him closer as his hands grip higher, warm palms finding the dough of your buttcheeks when you scratch at the nape of his neck. 

You watch the way his shoulders slump, the muscles in his body finally starting to unwind from your touch. You want to unwind him more.

“Steve?” His name comes out in just above a whisper, your nerves threatening to get the best of you. 

“Hmm?” He hums in response, too lost in the feeling of your nails dragging over his scalp.

“Let me take care of you.” Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you tug a little at his roots asking him to meet your gaze. 

“Honey,” It doesn’t sound like a protest, and it doesn’t feel like it either when his nails dig half crescent moons into the backs of your thighs, staring up at you with wide eyes.

You remember the empty hallways on your way up. Everyone was gone for the season, including Richard.

“You’ve been working so hard, you deserve it.” You cup the side of his face, your body buzzing when he leans into your touch. “Will you let me?”

“I - “ Wetting his lips, Steve glances at the door before bringing his attention back to you, “yeah, okay, shit, yeah.”

You hold his heavy lidded gaze with a confidence he’s never seen before as you drop to your knees, the nails that were just in his hair dragging along his thighs and it sends him reeling. He doesn’t know how long you’ve thought about this.

The carpet is rough on your freshly lotioned skin, the bottom hem of your dress pulling up over the tops of your thighs. Leaning back in his chair, the new angle gives him the perfect view down the deep heart shaped neckline of your dress. The necklace he got you on your first date shimmers just above the swell of your breasts and it makes his cock press into the metal of his zipper. He wishes he could take a picture of you right now.

“You want this baby?” His voice comes out gruff when he asks, the gold inside his eyes darkening to something almost black as he runs a hand through his hair.

“You have no idea, just how bad I want it … daddy.” Looking up at him through thick lashes, you punch the air out of his lungs in a low exhale through his nose when you don’t hesitate to start working at the silver of his belt buckle.

“Fuck, you can’t say - ” He huffs out exasperated, contemplating taking a half day so he can spend the rest of it in bed with you. 

Leather squeaks underneath him when he lifts his hips to help you tug his pants down. The hard outline of him strains against his briefs, mouth watering when you notice the darkened spot where he’s already leaking into the black cotton. More confident now, your palms find purchase on the tops of his hairy thighs, leaning forward you let heat of your breath make him twitch, earning a low groan when your lips trail like a ghost behind it.

“Can’t say what?” Your tone drips innocence, your bottom lip tugging down against the covered head of his cock before lifting your gaze with a mischievous smirk, relishing in the sharp inhale he takes through his teeth. 

“I think you’re gonna kill me.” He almost laughs, running a hand over his face. Pushing up his glasses in the process he settles his heavy gaze on you with a lazy grin as they slide down the slope of his nose.

You hum, glossed lips twisting at the corners as you hook your fingers in the elastic of his briefs, giving them a gentle pull to signal what you want. Steve gives it to you without any hesitation, the full weight of his cock slapping against his stomach making your thighs press at the thought of being stretched by it. The pink tip swipes against the hem of his button up that sits rucked up at his belly button and you don’t think you’ll ever be immune to just how big and pretty he is.

“That wouldn’t be very nice of me huh?” you tease looking up at him with a pout.

“Nuh-uh” He mumbles, face crumpling a little watching your fingers try to wrap around the base of him, the tips of them just barely meeting on the other side. The grip he has on the armrest of his chair, stretches his skin so tight the whites of his knuckles start to show.

“And, I wanna be nice,” he feels like velvet in your hand, the pad of your thumb tracing the large vein that runs up the side, before swiping over his sensitive head. You collect what he’s already given to you with enough pressure to make his toes curl inside his wingtip dress shoes.  

Leaning forward, you slowly let your tongue run the length of him, feeling the way he twitches against the muscle before paying extra attention to what’s weeping for you, swirling your tongue around the tip. Salty and little sweet from the way he drinks his coffee in the morning, you hum pleased when he hits your taste buds. 

“God, honey.”

You don’t give him any warning when you wrap your lips around him, a greedy tongue flattening along the underside. Gagging when he hits the back of your throat, you still try to open up just a little more, your hand keeping up with what you can’t reach.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve’s jaw goes slack, eyelids growing too heavy to keep open at the heat of your mouth enveloping him. His head pushes further into his chair while he fights to keep his hands from flying to the back of yours.

Scooting closer, you feel him spread his legs even more, and your hand that’s not wrapped around the base of his cock, slides down his thigh. The blunt ends of your nails dragging through the rough curls that cover it.

“That’s - that’s so - shit, you’re making me feel so fucking good.” He grunts, finally working up enough strength to pry his eyes open to get a look at what he’s dreamed of a million times alone in the shower. “Always so good to me baby.”

You moan at his words, the praise drowning out the dull throb in your knees from the hard floor, and your throat opens up just a little more, the tip of your nose a ghost against his thick happy trail.

“You like that?” The tone he uses is deep, like someone laced the honey it’s always had for you with cinnamon. “You like when I tell you how good you are?”

Hollowing out your cheeks, you suck even harder, the wetness between your legs only getting worse when he lets out a strangled groan. You slowly work up the length of his cock with tight lips, before releasing him with a loud ‘pop’. For a second Steve thinks he might add more to the shining mess that covers your face, spit still connecting your chin to his sensitive head. 

You drag your teeth over your swollen bottom lip, his dark eyes tracking the movement when it pops back into place, twitching in your hand that hasn’t stopped pumping him. He thinks he likes this better than your gloss. You nod in response with a smile and he can’t believe is a little shy. 

Leaning forward, he wipes your chin with his thumb before tracing where your teeth just were with the pad of it. His eyes darken even more when your mouth opens, strawberry lips wrapping around him with no hesitation.

Yeah, you’re going to kill him. 

“Fuck, look at you,” He pushes down on your tongue, watching the way your thighs press under your dress sucking on the digit with the same force. “I’m so lucky.”

You moan around him, the motions of your wrist getting faster, and the urge to taste him becomes unbearable. With a gentle scrap of your teeth you let go of his thumb, pushing up on your knees to beg for a kiss. The wheels of his chair clink against the hinges when he eagerly accepts your request, one of his hands finding the back of your neck pulling you closer to lick into your mouth without a second thought. 

Your teeth scrape together, tongues battling for dominance while the stubble that lines his jaw threatens to rub your skin raw, but you don’t care. The inside of your thighs start to get sticky and the large vein that runs up the side of his cock pulses against your palm with the need for your attention. It’s the only thing that can get you to pull away from his lips that won’t stop devouring yours.  

It’s with new determination that you take him back into the heat of his mouth, doing your best to take him deeper down your throat than before. He moans your name loud enough that you’re sure anyone in this part of the building would hear if they were actually in their offices. He lets a big hand find the back of your head this time, while both of yours find the tops of his thighs. 

Your cheeks hollow again while your tongue wraps around as much as you can get, more spit, more slick to bob in rhythm with the thrusts of his hips. The tip of him catches at the back of your throat, and the way it squeezes his head when your reflex hits makes his toes curl, fingers burying themselves in your hair to keep you there.

“Oh, that’s - that’s it- take the whole thing. Shit. You’re gonna make me cum baby. Just like that, don’t stop, don’t stop. Good girl, good girl.” 

Each snap of his hips gets as desperate as his babbling, like he’s completely forgotten he’s still at work. One of your hands leaves his thigh to cup his balls that have been screaming for attention since the moment you walked into his office in that dress. Rolling them in your palm is the final touch that makes his vision go white behind his eyes, body tensing and face going slack just like his jaw. 

“Baby, baby, baby.”

Twitching, he spills hot down the back of your throat and you try to swallow as much of it as you can before it dribbles down your chin, dripping onto your chest. His full weight falls back onto his chair, the wheels it’s on moving just enough to have him slide half soft from the warm velvet of your mouth. He tasted even better than you’d imagined, promising yourself you were going to do this again to him after dinner. 

Chest heaving, a breathy laugh escapes him, and the hand that was buried in your hair runs through his before his eyes open up back to their normal golden brown. His cheeks flush pink when he gets a look at the mess he made of you, and it only deepens when you collect the spend that found its way to the swell of your breasts with the pads of your fingers before sucking them clean.

“I think I’m gonna take a half day.”

[neesieiumz]

𓆩☆𓆪 | 𝚂𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙵𝙵 ⸺ ⚞𝙴𝚁𝚆𝙸𝙽 𝚂𝙼𝙸𝚃𝙷 ⚟

⸻ synopsis ⫸〖 when your home gets flooded out by a bad storm, it's only right for sheriff erwin smith to help you out, right love?〗

⸻ warnings ⫸ sm*t. fluff. minors do not interact. part ii of the gold rush anthology. sheriff!erwin. bar-owner!reader. canon-age Erwin. reader is in her late twenties, or early thirties, however, you wanna see it. afab reader. female reader. black-coded reader. soft-dom!erwin. fingering. squirting. titty-sucking. full-nelson position (yes, can you tell I have a fantasy that I really wanna do?) soft-dom!erwin. he's also really stressed out in this. he also calls you "love" all the time. he also calls you a good girl during this as well. friends-to-lovers. p*rn with plot.

⸻ writers note ⫸ lol much like reiner's this took me like two months to write. y'all better pray it don't take me that long to do eren's or we're gonna have a problem!! I just hope you all enjoy this.

⸻ word count ⫸ 7.0k.

masterlist. | previous part in the anthology | next part in the anthology |

The bar was empty, the kitchen cleaned up, and all quiet as well. The air that once smelled of cheap beer and grease now began to fade into the smell of night dew and wet sand. You stood behind the bar, wiping down the few wet glasses to put away. Glancing out the door, seeing the moon and stars glowing against the midnight sky, sighing as your mind faded back to the events before. Back to the way Erwin and his men had rushed out of here. It has been chaotic for the people within this town. For the past two weeks, those bandits had been ravaging the town, escaping with no trace within the wind. You had overheard their frustrations from both the police force and Garrison boys and how they evaded their every movement. Wiping your wet hands against your dress, turning around to do a final count of the beer stocked behind you. It was a hassle, always being the last one, but you knew no one else could leave your bar the way you do. As you did so, you suddenly heard the door creak and swing open. Gasping, jumping in slight shock, grabbing the closest thing to you before a familiar voice hissed through the air. 

The very same man you were thinking about stomped right through the bar, face red, grumbling in anger. He wasn’t wearing his hat, probably left it at the office as he trampled on through. His bronze-brown vest was unbuttoned, showing off his buttoned-down shirt stained with sand and dirt stains. The smell of wet mud, rain, and sweat hit your nose but you said nothing as he made his way towards you, sitting right down at one of the bar stools. He let out a loud groan, reaching up, losing the scarf he tied around his neck. You let out a breath, not saying a word as you turned right back around, going to one of the beer barrels. Filling it with the one he drinks the most, before sliding it to him. Not missing a beat, he took the tall glass, downing most of it in one go.

“Thank ya kindly, love,” he said, slamming the glass down on the table. 

“Don’t go and break my glass, Erwin,” you joked, taking the glass and going to fill it. 

“My apologies, and no need for more, I’ll be too dizzy to head back home.”

You hummed, before lifting the glass up, sipping down the little you had already poured back into the cup. Erwin said nothing, watching as you licked your lips, shuddering slightly at the taste of the bitter wheat alcohol. 

“I don’t know how you boys can be drinking that shit all day,” a grimace took over your face. 

Erwin smirked, “it’s an acquired taste, could say the same thing about the fancy lil wine you’re always drinking.”

You rolled your eyes at that, smirking, “alright now Erwin..”

Rinsing and washing the glass, before taking the damp rag and wiping it down. Back facing towards him, you spoke once more. 

“Assuming from your attitude, you don’t have any good news about them bandits?”

Almost immediately, you could feel his mood dampen. He groaned, hearing sink further into the table. You glanced back at him, finding both of his large hands covering his face in further frustration. 

“I’m assuming that’s a no,” you said. 

He let out a softer sigh, before pushing himself up once more, looking at you as you shuffled around, still facing the back of the bar. 

“They’re tricky lil things, constantly evading my men,” he sighed, groaning as well as he sat up fully. 

“We chased 'em down to the big forest all the way out there, but we lost' em. Still don’t know how, not like there’s many places to hide up there. We even checked the big cave over there as well and all the possible trees they could hide in.”

Sighing, you placed the glass down with the rest of them before turning around and facing him fully. You leaned over the table, pressing your abdomen against the shiny wood. Using your free hand, you placed your pad on his cheeks, your longer fingers reaching his blond hair, while your thumb stroked his cheek. You could feel his smile form against your hand, smiling soon after that. 

“Kirstein’s been on my ass about finding them, they took a lot of his equipment and it was real expensive for him to buy new ones in the city. Told him to sell his wife’s jewelry and he looked at me like I got two cow heads.”

You couldn't help the chuckle that escaped your lips, thinking about Jean waving his fist over at Erwin, before speaking, “You can’t catch em all Erwin in one night, plus them robbers real sneaky too. First we’ve ever seen someone like this. It’ll be alright, m’kay?”

He nodded his head, and you soon moved your hand, lifting your body upright once again. He glanced around the bar, seemingly noticing that there was no one else there but him. He glanced over at you as you placed the wet rag on the rack hanging from the counter, before stepping out from behind it. Erwin watched you begin slowly turning off the lights hanging around the bar, dimming down all the lanterns. 

“Lemme walk you home, love. Can’t have you out here at night like this.”

You couldn't suppress your smile as you dimmed the last lantern, nothing but the low light of the moon peeking through the door surrounding, darkness swallowing you two whole. 

You sighed, walking back to the bar to grab your bag, “if by home, you mean the motel across town then yeah.”

Turning around, jumping at the sudden tall figure right in front of you. He peered down at you, eyes slightly wide. 

“What you mean by that, love? Why you staying in a place like that?” He asked you.

Letting out a shaky breath, and taking a step back. Erwin was close, so close that it had your heart suddenly palpated a bit, heat suddenly flashing through your body. 

“Um..” your mind went blank for a bit, before resetting, “that storm a few nights ago put me out, my roof and walls leaking so I grabbed what I could and ran down to the motel. Was soaking wet when I got there too.” You slightly snorted at that last part but Erwin’s face didn’t change at all.

“Now why didn’t you tell me about this? I could have helped you?”

You crossed your arms, taking a deep breath to help calm yourself just a bit, “and do what? You and the entire damn force were worried about those bandits. You know I don’t wanna be a bother, Erwin.”

His large, coarse came up to your face, pressing it against your cheek. Your heart kicked back up as he took a step closer to you, stomping over the distance you had put between the two of you. 

“Now you know you could never be a bother to me, love.”

You couldn’t help the smile, looking up into his usually icy blue eyes, hardened from years on the job, that now had a softened look to them. You couldn't help but use your free hand, reaching up and placing it on top of his own. The two of you smiled at each other, before dropping your hands at the same time. Erwin turned around, heading towards the opened door together. 

“I don’t feel comfortable with you staying in the motel, especially with these bandits running around,” he mentioned as he opened the door, holding it open for you. 

Sighing, turning around to lock up the bar, “well, what would you have me do Erwin? Everyone else I know is packed full, and I’m not going into the forest late at night. The carpenter’s are stretched thin with everyone else and won’t finish with my place until next week.”

You put your keys back in your bag, turning around to look at him. His face was lowered, eyebrows furrowed in a look of pondering as the two of you walked through the almost silent town. You could hear a commotion in the background, most likely people having their own get-togethers as well.  

“You could come stay with me. Until they repair your house of course.”

Your eyes widened, head swinging to look at him. The two of you locked eyes as your heart dropped for a quick moment. Stay… at Erwin’s place…? You shuffled a bit as you thought upon the idea, the idea of you two sharing a space for at least a week. Just for a quick moment, a flash of a much more, racy sight of him had your heart pounding a mile a minute. 

“I really don’t wanna put you out like that Erwin,” you spoke up, shuffling and looking away from him, trying your best to be still with your beating heart

Cool hands reached out to your chin, pulling your head up to look at the 6’2 man. 

“Now what did I just say, love? You could never be a burden to me, and you could never put me out.”

With no other words, his other hand reached out, sliding your bag out of his hands before swinging it over his shoulders. He began walking ahead of you, taking a few steps before looking back at you. He jerked his head, motioning for you to follow him. With no other words, softly smiling as you turned and walked towards him, the two of you walking in step as you walked through the town. Despite the sheriff's office being in the center of town, Erwin preferred to live a bit of the way in the opposite direction away from the forest. He likes being near the main entrance of the town, just in case something happens. As you were halfway there, a large gust of sudden cold wind blew past the two of you, causing you to shiver a bit. Your arms crossed each other, your hands stroking them to create some kind of heat. Erwin must have noticed your actions as all of a sudden, you heard a ‘plop’ before a weight fell upon your shoulders. Looking around, you saw the jacket Erwin was wearing draped across your shoulders. You looked up at him, noting him pointedly not looking back down at you as he continued walking. You let off a small smile, snuggling into the warm jacket, sounding off a soft “thank you” before continuing to walk behind him. 

The two of you soon got to his home, a simple two-story house given to him by the townspeople, a thank you for all that he does. You followed behind him as he fished for his keys out of his pockets, unlocking the door and pushing it open as he did so. He gestured for you to enter his home first, stepping out of the way for you. Soon after, he walked in behind you, closing the door behind you as you stood in his dark living room. He carefully slid past you, his hands reaching out to your waist to stabilize you easily as he walked over to a corner. Soon the room began to illuminate, allowing you to look at the quaint and simplistic living room. There was barely anything in the living room, a simple couch, a table along with a record sitting in the corner. Erwin straightened himself before turning around and walking abc towards you. 

“Let me take you to where you’ll be resting your head, love.”

He took you by the hand, causing you to gasp as he took you towards the stairs, which you hadn't noticed right near the front door. He guided you up the stairs, your bag still sitting and swinging on his shoulders. Coming up to the second floor, he took you down a hall before pushing a door open. You tilted your body behind him, peeking into the place where he led you. It was a bedroom, presumably the place where you would be resting your head for the next week or so. It was simple, a bed on a wooden stand with a night drawer right beside it. You followed behind him as he placed the bag right onto the bed before turning around. 

“This is one of the guest bedrooms, mainly for Levi whenever he comes into town, but he’s busy working on another case.” 

You blinked, nodding along as he explained where some of the things are. 

“The bathroom is the door right here,” he said, gesturing to the only other door in the room. 

There was also a huge dresser, instead of a closet which was fine as well, better for you since you wouldn't be staying for long anyways

“There’s one more guest bedroom down the hall, but it’s unfurnished so it's just full of boxes. So the only other room you’ll see up here is my own room.”

You turned towards him smiling, eyes welling up with tears of appreciation, “thank you again for this Erwin, you really didn't have to.”

He approached you, his long arms reaching out holding you on the shoulders, “how many times do I have to tell you, it's not a problem, love. Now, make yourself at home.” He said, before letting your shoulders go. 

He gave one last smile, before walking towards the door, opening it, and walking it out. The moment he left, you let out a sigh of relief, fanning off the sudden heat of nervousness from your face. You crossed the room, sitting on top of the bed before reaching for your bag. This was all you had brought with you when you left your home, most of your things water-damaged from the storm. You unzipped it, before sifting through all your clothes and things before pulling out a few night dresses that weren’t damaged. 

The rest of the night was uneventful, taking a shower to wash off the smell of alcohol and food on my body before slipping under the cool sheets. Despite the obvious unused in the room, the sheets still smelled fresh, like they were recently cleaned. You smiled, relishing in the soft feeling, unlike the itchy blankets over at the motel. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

It had been three days since you had taken solace in Erwin’s home, and the two of you found yourself in comfortable waters so easily. At first, it was nerve-wracking being in such close proximity to him, but you soon found it easier the more he reassured you. He had shown you around in the morning after you had arrived, before personally walking you back to the bar to open up for the day. He would meet you at the end of the day, even if he had night duty, to walk you back to the house as well. His pure actions and gestures only made you yearn and pine for him more. 

As you stood in his kitchen, the bar closed up early to account for the sudden curfew the mayor had just put out. You knew Erwin was working hard and late nights, you would hear him come in late at night sometimes, your mind only tuning into his heavy footsteps creaking against the wood floors before falling back into your heavy sleep. And like clockwork, he would get up at the same time as you, to walk you to the bar. He would come in when it closed to walk you home before heading back to his office as well. You knew it was weighing over him, all this responsibility to bring peace back to your town, where more and more people were coming in from the city to experience the rush happening all over. 

You glanced over to your left, out the window, where you could see Erwin’s form hunched over, barely illuminated by the light inside the home. Sighing, you closed the pot of stew you were brewing, wiping your hands cleaning with a wet rag before walking out, towards the door. The breeze was blowing slightly, sand sifting out in the distance. The scenery in front of you was enjoyable, much more than what your own home would have to offer. The slight rancid smell of smoke pulled you out of your thoughts. Turning towards your right, seeing the blonde man hunched over the railing, a cigar in one hand, a glass of brown liquor in the other. 

“Those things’ll kill you, Erwin.” you spoke out, cutting through the slice of the night. 

His head turned slightly towards you, eyes staring right back at you. He smirked, lifting up his cigar before taking another hit. 

“This stress’ll kill me before these things do.”

You rolled your eyes, walking towards him, taking the space right beside him. The cigar smoke only smells stronger, so you knew this wasn't his first one of the night. He leaned back suddenly, throwing back the rest of his bourbon, pressing his half-burnt cigar into the railing, making another of what seemed to be numerous burn marks. Glancing behind you, at the small little area Erwin had set up on his porch, you found the bottle of bourbon along with a pack of cigars and another empty glass. You took a step back, grabbing the bottle and the glass before standing right beside him again. You poured yourself one before pointing the bottle towards Erwin, who looked down at the bottle, before holding his own glass out. You poured halfway to his cup, before placing the bottle on the railing beside you. 

You turned back towards him, tipping your glass towards him, and Erwin immediately clinked it with yours. You took a sip while Erwin basically downed the whole thing once more. Pulling the glass away, a scowl appeared on your face as you looked at the drink. 

“I still don’t know how you people drink this type of shit,” You spoke, reminiscent of when you took a sip of beer a few days ago, leaning down again the railing, holding the glass with two hands. 

He chuckled, shuffling closer to you, leaning over the railing as well. 

It was silent between the two of you, just taking in the scenery at the moment. The wind was blowing just a little harder than before, the air smelling just a bit humid from the past storms tormenting the town. You could see the Kierstein ranches in the distance, along with the forest where your friend and coworker lived as well. 

“Tell me what’s on your mind Erwin, you know I’m worried.”

His chuckle lightly echoed through the almost empty home, facing straight as he pushed himself up, “Hange’s been on me about getting these bandits. Luckily it seems they’ve stopped for now, but we still can't find whatever they’ve stolen. Towns ‘n a riot.”

You knew about the last part, as many angry men walked into your bar, cursing out both the thieves and Erwin for not finding their missing things. You were only lucky that your bar still hadn't been hit yet, but you couldn’t say the same thing for the other bars and pubs around town. You’d honestly never have seen anything like this, the way people have only confirmed three people yet they were able to flip a huge town like this on its head. You move your hand on his face towards his back, rubbing and caressing him trying your best to provide some solace. 

“Cut yourself some slack Erwin, there’s only so much you can do in this. I’m sure you are doing all you can.”

He only sighed, leaning back fully, looking up towards his ceiling, “but am I doing enough? There’s something I’m missing in this.” He shook his head, hand reaching up and basically slapping his forehead. 

“Fuck, I got a nasty headache,” he mumbled, before suddenly sniffing. 

He blinked, eyes furrowed in confusion, before turning back towards you, “you cooking something?”

You blinked, before the smell of char hit your nose, causing you to jump straight up. Squeaking as you raced inside, throwing the door open before running back to the kitchen. You reached the stove, grabbing the pot before moving it to an unused burner kneeling down, disconnecting the gas. You could feel Erwin’s eyes on you as you lifted the pot, sighing in relief as the smell of strong spices and herbs fully filled the air instead of a charcoal-burnt smell. Slowly you turned towards Erwin, locking eyes with his slightly concerned ones. 

“Want some soup?”

He smiled before standing up, you tried to tell him to sit down, as you didn't want him to do any to aggregate his said headache even further but he didn’t listen to you. He crossed the kitchen before standing right behind you, placing his hand on your waist as he reached up to the cupboards.

“‘Scuse me, love,” he said, opening the cupboards to bring out two bowls. 

His large hand rested right on your waist, letting an almost silent shaky breath as he squeezed it, bringing down the bowls to your level. Your hyperawareness only caused you to ache down there, your thighs squeezing together as he placed the bowls down on the counter. He helped you prepare the dishes, washing his hands before he did so. He grabbed the silverware along with two glasses of water as you ladled the food into the bowls. The two of you carried the food into the living room, rather than the fancy little dining room Erwin barely used. The two of you sat right next to each other, eating away at the late-night dinner you made. 

You did your best to keep Erwin’s mind off of work, and it seemed to have worked, the tense furrow on his brow reposting as you spoke of the latest gossip between the townsfolk, what you would hear day by day. How one of your long-time patrons’ had suspicions of his husband cheating, only for his husband and best friend to roll in two hours after he left. People have a lot of audaciousness is what he said after you told him about that. 

The soup you cooked soon disappeared between the two of you, along with the glasses of water as you spoke way into the night. Erwin had brought in the bourbon he was drinking, and the two of you shared the bottle, diluting it with water of course. You don’t know how it happened but the space you had put between you and the tall man had slowly decreased. Your thighs touching, shoulders grazing each other, the two of you unconsciously getting closer. 

“Oh, you got a little something here, love,” Erwin suddenly said, cutting into your giggles. 

Before you could say anything, his hand suddenly reached out to your face, his large hand cupping your face. 

With a slight sharp inhale, you could only look over at the side, seeing his thumb rub away at stains you had not seen from the corner of your eye. Erwin rubbed at it a little harder, but it seemed the smudge wouldn’t go away. He moved closer to you, leveling eye contact with you as his rough hands finally cleaned off the stain. By then, his face and you were so close together, your noses were barely touching. You let off a smile, thanking him for the help. He only smiled at your face, but his hand still rested on your face. Breathing deeply, as you closed your eyes, the scent of his sweat mixed in with his cologne, the smell of smoky vanilla bourbon, and cedar wood, along with the smell of blackened cigar smoke. It didn't deter you though. You could feel his presence get closer to you, the heat of his face radiating into your own. 

You opened your eyes just in time as Erwin closed the gap between the two of you, pressing his lips harshly against your own. You gasped, the sudden intensity catching you off guard, the sudden pressure causing you to stumble back a bit. Reaching up to him, one hand reaching up to his shoulder and the other resting right underneath his jawline. He tasted savory, the lingering taste of your late-night dinner still on his tongue. It didn’t deter you, in fact, you only pushed against him, your panties beginning to soak as his arms reached around you, wrapping and picking you up with ease. He placed you right on his lap, his other hand leaving your face, sliding down your hips to underneath your bottom, cupping it before squeezing gently. 

You suddenly let go of the kiss, lips wet as looked down into his blue eyes, which seemed deeper in color than usual. His usual cerulean blues now looked more like royal blue as you pressed your hips against him. You could feel his hard-on pressing up against your panties underneath your thin dress. Your hands reached, running them through his blonde hair. He smirked, lifting his head to look up at you.

“Erwin,” was all you said before he kissed you again.

You were much more ready for his kiss, accepting it with equal pressure. Unconsciously, your hips began to move above him. His gentle squeeze turned brutal as you rutted into him more, your juices beginning to seep into his rough jeans. Your hands soon left his hair, sliding down his neck, your delicate touches only causing him to shiver against you. Your manicured nails soon reached down to his shirt, the first few buttons unfastened already. Unbuttoning the rest, your hands grazed over his muscles, over every ridge and every scar from years on the job. He shivered under you, letting go of the kiss for a quick moment. 

“So fucking long,” he groaned, moving up against your ear, “I’ve waited for this.”

Before you could say anything, Erwin cut you off, pressing his wet lips behind your ear, trailing down to your neck. Steadying yourself, digging your nails into his side as he reached your collarbone, nibbling away at it. The aching within you only growing, and sweat beginning to drop down your back, seeping through your thin dress. His head soon dipped to the valley between your breasts as your own hands slid down to his jeans, fiddling with the belt that held them up. Erwin’s large hands left your bottom, reaching under before grabbing at the fabric. 

You could hear a stretch, the sound echoing through the room as you gasped, lifting your head to glare at the sudden cool air breeze against your back. 

“Erwin! I really liked that dress!” 

He only chuckled, seeing the rest of the scraps falling off your body, leaving you and nothing but your drenched panties. He only groaned at the sight, his hands leaving you as they shrugged off his vest, unwrapping his scarf. You assisted him, gliding your hands underneath the sleeves of his shirt, before sliding the shirt off his body. Once off his body. You threw the shirt into an obscure corner, before facing him again. Erwin thumbed at your panties, hooking underneath the waist and thigh band before slowly pulling it down. Your arousal dripped as you clenched around nothing, resting your naked body against Erwin’s half-naked own. Gasping as cool air hit your clit as he pulled your panties down fully, your nails digging into his biceps. The around you was hot as you lifted your legs up as best as you could, helping him slide the clothing off fully of your body. 

Seeing as you were fully naked while Erwin was still in his jeans, your hands gently brushed down his arms, reaching to his belt before slowly beginning to unbuckle it. At the same time, Erwin leaned down towards you, lips pressed against your neck. Hands fumbling as you shivered, the feeling of his trailing down your neck, towards your chest. His own hands slide up and around your waist, sliding up your abdomen before reaching your breasts. His large hands reached your breasts, pushing and massaging them. His lips soon wrapped around your hardened nipple, before sucking away at it. 

“Fuck,” cursing and gasping as a rush of euphoria shot through you. 

The fingers on his other hand squeezed your other nipple slightly, just enough to increase the inciting feeling rushing through you. Your hands slide up, grazing against his slightly scarred back, reaching into his soft, blonde hair before gripping harshly. The sensitivity in your nipples only amplified as he sucked at it. You let out long breathy moans as he teased you, letting out a particularly high-pitched moan as he suddenly pinched and moaned at your free nipple. Soon after he let up, the cool air hit your wet nipple before moving his attention to your other one. His hand slid back down your body, sliding in between your legs, before slowly parting your thighs, revealing your drenched cunt. His long fingers slipped in between your folds, swiping up and down in between them before slowly pressing his finger against your clit.

“Erwin,” you gasped, pulling on his hair, causing him to groan, lips still wrapped around your nipple. 

His finger continued to press and slowly rub circles into your clit, collecting the juices that continued to seep out of you. Your hips ground against him, your body aching for more, something else to fill the need trying to build within you. Erwin’s actions taunted you, his finger slipping in between your folds, the tip of his finger teasing the entrance to your hole. Your back curled as he slowly, ever so slowly, pressed his fingers inside of your, your arousal making it easier for him to slip inside of you. Your hips jerked and buckled, craving more and more stimulation. As he moved his finger, his mouth let go of your nipple, before resting his head right on our shoulder, lips lined up with your ear. 

“More,” you cried, burrowing your face into his shoulder. 

He only chuckled, his raspy chuckle only rousing you further, “you know you have to relax for me,” he mumbled. 

Taking a breath, you tried your best to, release the hold you have in his hair, sliding them and crossing them behind his neck, holding him close. 

“That’s it,” he murmured, before pressing another finger inside of you, “open up just for me.”

The stretch was slightly painful, but as quickly as the pain came, it went. You cried out even louder against his ear as his thumb pressed against your clit. Erwin’s fingers moved up and down inside of you, just as he began to nibble and kiss along the outer part of your ear, his heated breath only causing you to shiver and shudder against him. You tried to move your hips along the movement of his digits before a loud smack rippled against your skin, the pain heated so gratifyingly against you. 

“Stop moving,” his voice was harsh, it caused your heart to skip a beat. 

You trembled in his hold, but his voice commanded you, taking charge as your movements suddenly slowed down to a complete stop. 

“Good girl,” he groaned before continuing his actions. 

You could only whimper as his words, combined with the increasing pace of his fingering only caused the aching feeling building within you to surge and skyrocket. You basically drenched his fingers as he made his way with you, fucking you with his fingers while playing with your clit. Letting a high-pitched moan, you curled over, forehead resting right against Erwin as heat surged up and built within you. Your already quivering body trembles further. 

Suddenly, before you could reach that high peak, Erwin suddenly pulled his fingers out of you, leaving you shivering, cold and empty. You couldn't help but whine in his arms as he lifted his hands up, his two fingers and his top knuckles covered in your arousal. He soon pressed his hand against his lips, tasting your juices before licking his fingers clean. Once finished, his now-free hand joined his other, gripping your ass. Without warning, he suddenly stood up, his grip around you only tightening to keep you up in the air as you shriek, your arms tightening around his neck and shoulders. 

“Erwin—” you shrieked as you were lifted up into the air. 

Below you, you could see his pants and boxers pooled around his ankles before looking up to look at him. With no warning, you leaned towards him, capturing him into another kiss as you could feel him lifting the lower part of your body up, readjusting him and yourself. You melted into the kiss, your arms sliding back to allow you to hold his head between your heads. His usual cleaned-up hair was messed up, slightly drenched with sweat. Saliva was exchanged between the two of you, tongues swirling within each other's mouths. 

For a moment, you let go of his kiss, lips still pressed against him as you whispered, “I need you inside me, please, please, please, I can’t wait anymore…”

Erwin didn’t say a word, only enrapturing you into another kiss. Eventually, you could feel the tip of his hard-on pressing up against you, parting your inner labia. You let out a restrained moan into his mouth. With no other warning, he pressed on, overwhelming you even further. You abruptly let go of the kiss as you let out an impassioned cry, tongue falling out of your mouth as you brace yourself. The intensity had you convulsing within Erwin’s arms, your shaking legs easily held together by his strong arms. You could hear Erwin grunting and letting off heavy groans as he began to bottom out into you. His motions started off slow, just like his fingering actions before, allowing you to get used to his large size. The heated pressure around adding on to the sweat dripping down your body as Erwin began to move. 

“Fuck,” he cursed in your ear.

“Erwin,” you called out his name, laying your head on his shoulder as your face twisted in intensity. 

He grunted against you before speaking lowly into it, “Move your head, wanna— fuck— wanna see your pretty face.”

His voice was thick and sweet, like the most delicious chocolate cake, it coaxed you, as you moved your head, your locs brushing to the side as you gazed into his blue eyes. His pace quickened, the wet smacks echoing through the room, adding volume to your already thunderous moans. It was overwhelming, Erwin was overwhelming, a man who commanded the space around him, you couldn't help but succumb deeper and deeper to his glamor. He ravished you, his restraint breaking more and more as he savored your expressions, your sounds, and even the way you smelled. Your juices leaked all over the both of you, his hips plunged into you, the tip of his cock hitting your very core. The two of you bring out the best and worst in each other. 

You cried out his name once more, your body lurching against him, “Erwin, ahh—” You were suddenly cut off by your own lewd moan, dripping in lust. 

Erwin let off a deep groan disguised as a chuckle as he felt you involuntary clenching around him, the sudden tightening pushing him to a whole new level. His once strong-rhythmic thrust became erratic in nature. 

“You gonna come for me, love?” He groaned in your ear, the grip he had on your ass bruise-worthy. 

Nodding your head erratically, you only had a moment’s reprieve before your climax came rushing at you at full speed.

“Aaaahhh,” you threw your head back in ecstasy as you went still for a moment, everything tensing over as your orgasm washed over you. 

Erwin wasn’t letting up, as overstimulation began to set within you, your recently mind-numbing orgasm not helping you. You could do nothing but hang off for Erwin as he basically used you like a fuck-toy until he had reached his own peak. With a few final grunts, you could feel him spilling inside of you. The room now only echoed with your heavy breaths. Slowly, you opened your eyes, looking at his drenched blonde hair before using what little strength you had to pick up your head. The two of you locked eyes before breaking out into soft smiles. The two of you placed soft kisses on each other, as he turned around before slowly lowering your connected bodies on the couch. He slowly lowered you there before easing himself out of you, a slight hiss leaving your mouth as he did so. You grimaced as you felt your mixed fluids beginning to ooze out of you. You bent down, picking up your panties before sighing at the scraps of your dress on the floor. 

The two of you cleaned up, with you walking around in Erwin’s shirt while he stood in nothing but his boxers. He helped you put away the soup, and clean up the bowls you used. Once everything was clean, he dimmed out the latent, swallowing you all in darkness as you waited for him by the stairs. You could see his presence right in front of you, before squealing as he suddenly picked you up, bridal style. 

You wrapped your arms around him, before speaking, “you always gonna pick me up like this?”

He hummed, as he made it to the top of the stairs, shifting his body towards his bedroom door. He easily opened it with one hand whilst still holding you up. His room was quaint, with not many decorations, the few you could see were mainly photo frames of him and his team of police officers. Erwin laid you comfortably on the bed, however before he could walk to the other side and join you. A loud knock echoed through the house, jolting the both of you. You looked over at Erwin whose relaxed expression now took on a more hardened one. He walked over to his dresser, grabbing a pair of sweatpants before slipping them on. 

“Stay here,” he told you, seeing as you were beginning to push yourself off the bed. 

His words were stern and clear, so you sat back against the bed, watching him exit the room. Outside, Erwin walked down the stairs before eyeing his front door. Besides him, he reached into a drawer to pull out his gun. He slowly walked towards the door, slowly placing his hand on the knob before looking through the peephole. Erwin saw the familiar figure, relaxing as he opened the door fully. 

Standing on his porch was his secretary, a person he was not planning on seeing until he went in for work the next day. 

Erwin placed the gun on the table near him,, “almost thought you were someone else, what are you doing here?”

She let off a little awkward smile before handing him a file, “for you, sir.”

Erwin blinked, before taking the file and flipping through it. The familiar notes and words had Erwin furrowing his brow.

“This is the Kierstein report… Jaeger was supposed to get this for me, yesterday.”

The secretary shrugged her shoulders, “you know Eren was never going to get it done, especially when it comes to Jean. So it was either get it done or get Jean on our ass again.”

Erwin sighed, smacking the file against his head slightly, the migraine that had gone away slowly returning as he thought about his most ambitious officer. 

“I’ll have a few words with him tomorrow, get home, go get some sleep.” He called out to her, beginning to close the door not before hearing a noise, resembling a giggle coming from her. 

“Oh I’ll definitely get some sleep tonight, I wonder if you will as well.”

Erwin stopped in his tracks, turning back towards his secretary before seeing her point toward his chest. Erwin glanced down only seeing small red and purple bruises littered all over his neck and upper chest. His secretary could no longer hold back their giggles, muffling them with her hand as Erwin felt a flush of heat run through him. 

“Just, just get home.” He said sternly, before slamming the door shut. 

He waited until he heard steps leading away from his porch before letting out a breath, leaning against his door for a moment.

“Erwin,” your sweet voice called out.

He looked up, seeing you standing at the top of the stairs. He could see the light from the hallway illuminating, allowing him to see you standing there, still in his shirt. 

“Everything okay?” you asked, beginning to take a step down. 

He nodded his head, before placing the file on his living room table and heading towards the stairs, “Yeah, just someone dropping off a report, I’ll be up soon.”

You nodded your head, fiddling with the buttons before slowly turning your body. He could only stare as you slowly unbuttoned each and every button, before slowly lowering the shirt, revealing the top half of your naked body. You said nothing, only giving him a knowing smirk before walking to the right back to his own bedroom. 

Erwin glanced over at the report, before looking back up the stairs where you had just stood before him, enticing him. With no other thought, he left the report on the table before scaling up the stairs, making it to his bedroom, and shutting the door behind him. 

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[florencemtrash]

Flame, Shadow, Beast : Flame

Azriel x Reader x Eris

Summary: Years after Eris frees you from his father’s prison, you’ve managed to find a new love, new friends, and build a life for yourself in Autumn. But when a certain Shadowsinger stumbles upon your home, dragging in painful memories of betrayal and longing, you’ll have to face the things you left in the past and make choices about the future you want.

Warnings: Fluffy Eris x Reader and our favorite monster, Bryaxis, makes an appearance.

Flame, Shadow, Beast: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

It was a cruel irony that winning a war was the easiest part of ruling. Eris thought about it often, doubts invading his rare moments of quiet; Maybe he’d made a mistake. Maybe the lives of thousands of Autumn Court members - both those loyal to him and to his father - hadn’t been worth the weight of the crown now sitting on his head.

The wood and gold had been harvested from the body of one of the Old Gods to whom some of the rural folk still owed their ultimate allegiance; the rubies had come from a land beyond the western seas as a declaration of war back when they’d been ruled by a more ancient race of beings - the predecessors to the Blood Rubies the Summer Court was so fond of doling out. Eris wondered if he’d ever get used to carrying so much history on his body. 

The sun had barely crested over the treetops, blanketing the forest floor with streams of liquid gold, when he came across your village. The first fae he saw - a female with short elk horns extending gracefully from her temples - nearly dropped her basket at the sight of him. Eris gently bowed his head in greeting and her face flushed as crimson as the red garment dye that stained her hands. 

“My High Lord,” She breathed out, dropping to her knees despite the prickling straw that perpetually littered the roads.

Heads of varying shades of chestnut and scarlet appeared behind closed windows like candlights. During the harvest months everyone woke and slept with the sun. 

One by one fae streamed out of their homes, each of them carrying tribute in the form of freshly baked bread, baskets of apples and peaches, sheepskin cloaks, and barrels of mead. 

“Stand.” Eris gently commanded them as they fell to their knees, “We’re just passing through.” He could see the hesitation in their eyes. They feared disrespecting him. 

Eight years of being High Lord and he had yet to perfect the delicate balance between distance and familiarity with his people. 

Halvor coughed from beside him, eyes raised from beneath the shadow of his bronze helm.

Get off your horse and talk to them. His eyes said, repeating the mantra that you liked to say around the royal pair.

Eris understood and dismounted with grace and power. With his scarlet and gold riding cloak, flaming hair, and ruby crown he looked like the spirit of Autumn come to life - all sharp edges and burning stoicism. He was a living fire.

But fire could give warmth as much as pain - nurture and grow as much as it could raze the world to the ground. So Eris took his time to speak with the people. He sampled their mead and ale, complimented the pixies who wove threads of warm oranges, yellows, and reds with their nimble fingers, and visited the rolling fields of corn, barley, and wheat that waved in the brisk breeze. The gray-tinged sky above tasted of power and freedom. 

Under Beron’s reign, the fruits of the fields would have fallen entirely under the purview of the High Lord with little remaining for the people who tended the long grasses. Now that they were allowed to own their own land and keep what was due to them, the air was lighter here, happier. It was the first harvest in a long time where they’d feel comfortable enough to celebrate properly.

The mask ebbed away, leaving him feeling lighter than he had in ages as he walked through a town.

A familiar face stared out from behind the small crowd that had gathered by the wheat fields. Talk of this year’s harvest festival rose in the air until everyone could taste the spiced rum, roasted pistachios, caramelized apples, and pumpkin with fresh cream on their tongues. It was still months away, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t get excited now. 

Eris broke away - an easy task when they parted ways for him like a hot knife through butter - and approached your smiling figure.

“I was wondering what was taking you so long.” You said, clasping your hands behind your back and smiling at Eris.

“So you came all this way just to investigate?” Eris arched his brow. You were no stranger to these people (and much beloved), but you preferred to keep to your little cottage beyond the town.

“Surprisingly, yes. For you, I would come all this way. And,” You shook the small parcel in your arm, “For Aliona’s candles.”

He grinned and offered you his arm, which you accepted, and quietly began to walk back to where Halvor had been dutifully waiting with the horses… and taking more than a few samples of drinks from beside his stead. 

“I also wanted to make sure he hadn’t killed you in your sleep yet.” You said, tilting your head towards his brother. 

“Careful, Y/n.”

Halvor was the youngest of Autumn’s trueborn sons, and had grown to become Eris’s second over the course of the war and the years that followed. Cruelty was still hammered into his bones - a disfiguring mark left by their father - but disloyalty was not one of his many negative traits. He’d been the only one to come to Eris’s aid in the war, and subsequently the last of Eris’s brothers to survive. That counted for something in your book.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it seriously, but I could’ve poked fun in a better way.” You said softly, gently leaning into his side. He forgave you quickly. He could never stay angry at you - he wasn’t even sure it was possible.

Halvor tipped his head towards you, eyes the color of freshly brewed coffee staring at you with mischief.

“My Lady.” He said half-mockingly, sweeping out his arm into a shallow bow. 

You rolled your eyes. “How many times have I told you not to call me that?”

“Why not? Is my brother not a good enough romp for you? If you want better company I could-” 

Eris cut off his words with a growl of warning. Halvor only tipped his head back and laughed - a grating sound that eight years of peace under Eris’s rule still hadn’t managed to file away.

“We’ll be walking to her home from here.” Eris said, slipping into his High Lord voice, “Try and keep your distance and be on the lookout.” Halvor nodded, turning serious at the shift in his brother’s voice. There were countless enemies who would be happy to snatch the crown away from a new, as of yet untested, High Lord.

He followed obediently, keeping his distance as you and Eris both bade farewell to the townspeople. 

You lived on a patch of land too far to even be considered the outskirts of town, but you were a familiar face to everyone. A healer by trade and Eris’s most trusted advisor and friend, you were the one they called upon in the dead of night when evil whispered nearby or sickness fell upon them. 

Evaldre, they called you in one of the Old Tongues. The exact meaning had been lost to time, but it spoke of someone cherished and highly regarded. Some of the bold ones even went so far as to call you “Our High Lady.” 

Ten years ago uttering those words would have meant the swift swing of a sword on one’s neck. If High Lord Eris knew of it, he never seemed to mind.

Bryaxis waited for you on your doorstep, pleasantly lounging in a patch of light and watching the gentle fall of crisp leaves from the trees above. Both Eris and Halvor’s horses groaned low in their throats, hooves pressing into the soil to stop before the clearing. Halvor whistled at them to move forward, but they refused.

“It’s that devil dog of yours,” Halvor said, dismounting and tying off the pair on a low hanging elm branch, “Makes them anxious.”

He whispered words of comfort to them, sliding his hands along their thick necks until they stopped bucking against the reins. Eris had his dogs and Halvor had his horses.

“He’ll stay inside then. Wouldn’t want you to have to walk back to the Forest House with your tail between your legs because you lost the horses.”

Eris smirked when Halvor threw an obscene gesture your way. 

The dog in question, black as night with shining silver-blue eyes, stretched and nuzzled into your outstretched hand as you reached your front door, Eris following closely behind. 

“Will you be long?” Halvor called out to Eris, raising his eyebrows suggestively with his hyena grin. 

“Go home if you’re so impatient. I can make it back on my own.”

“I’ll wait til noon.” If Eris was finished by then, it would mean they took care of business… if Eris wasn’t finished by then, it would mean they were taking care of other business, business Halvor would do no good sticking around for. He snorted at the thought, then lost himself in imagining the other females he might be able to seduce back at the Forest House.

You both passed through the enchantments woven into the wood of your home, feeling a rush of power pour over you like water over stone. 

Eris snapped his fingers and the candles you’d placed on your dining table and mantle burst to life, fluttering about like dancers. The fireplace followed suit, sending a wave of warmth throughout the house. Firelight bounced off the rich velvet and creams that adorned your home - a cleaner mimic of the Autumn lands that existed behind the walls and flooded in through the open windows.

The Forest House was a place of luxury, massive enough that it would take you an entire morning just to walk from one end to another, and filled to the brim with treasures of gold, bronze, and enough precious jewels to sink a ship. It was a palace fit for a High Lord. But this was a home, so he took off his crown and hung up his cloak.

“What happened to him?” Eris said, kneeling on the ground and giving Bryaxis a well-deserved scratch behind the ears. The millennia-old creature closed his eyes in satisfaction. “The last time I saw him he was a cat.”

You chuckled, bustling about in the kitchen for a tea set that would match and piling pastries on a plate. The smell of browned butter and strawberry rhubarb jam waltzed in the air.

“He’s been experimenting with new forms.” You said, smugness and pride warming your chest. Not so long after Eris had freed you from the mountain and given you a new home, Bryaxis had found you, drawn to your power. Twin bargain tattoos snaked up from the bridges of your feet to your ankles like vines up a trellis - the first promised that you would do no harm to one another in exchange for dual protection, the second allowed you to take a portion of his power, giving him to opportunity to mold his being into a form that could experience the world in a more physical sense. 

Gone was the shapeless creature of shadow and nightmares. Enter Bryaxis the wolf-dog (and occasional housecat) who still radiated enough power to scare away any creature (wicked or otherwise) that dared to disturb the peace of their home. But he could curl up by the windows and watch the night sky uninhibited, and in his heart he was a creature of violence and simplicity in equal measure.

“I like this one better than the cat.” Eris said with a grin, for the monster had copied the shape of one of his prized hunting dogs. Bryaxis seemed to growl in appreciation when Eris straightened up.

He sighed in contentment, feeling the stress of his crown melt away when you wrapped your arms around his middle, burying your face in the crook of his neck and breathing in the scent of cedar, smoke, and cinnamon.

“Hello.” He murmured softly, turning in your arms and pressing his lips against your forehead.

“Hello.” You whispered, brushing your lips against his with a sigh, “I missed you. Where have you been all this time?” The finished reports on your desk, much like your empty bed, had been waiting patiently for Eris’s next visit.

He hesitated, pulling away to look at you. He brushed aside a few stray strands of hair that had fallen out of your braid. “The Night Court.”

You stiffened, “Keir?” 

He shook his head, frowning, “Rhysand.” 

You blinked, and he saw darkness pass through your eyes. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I wasn’t sure how you’d take it.” 

Twelve years. 

You’d been Beron’s prisoner for decades before. Then you’d escaped and managed a couple of years of peace. You’d found a home and a family… or so you thought. And then twelve years ago you’d been betrayed - handed back to the now deceased High Lord on a silver platter and trapped beneath the mountain for four years. It made your blood boil to think about the people who helped put you there. 

“You’ve been dealing with them for years now,” You forced out in a diplomatic tone, “It’s good for you to have allies, especially strong ones like them.”

“Y/n-”

“You should've told me. I don’t want you to worry about my feelings when it comes to these things. Autumn comes first and-”

“I’ll always worry about you.” Eris said, tilting your chin up and catching the moisture gathering in your eyes that you’d furiously tried to blink away, “And there’s no choice between you and my Court. You belong here. To protect Autumn - to protect you - are the same thing, my love.” 

Your cheeks burned at the careful way he spoke, the sincerity in his voice he reserved solely for you in moments like this.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Y/n. I promise it won't happen again."

Fury burned in his stomach, a continuation of the anger that had steadily been eating away at his patience during his visit to the Night Court. To see the Inner Circle look so safe and happy in the bubble they’d carved for themselves in Velaris, naive to the pain and suffering they’d caused you, had made him want to burn The House of Wind to the ground. Alliance be damned. 

He hated them nearly as much as he had hated his own father. 

“I don’t want to think about them.” You declared, setting your jaw and smoothing away the lines of anger that had formed on Eris’s forehead, “To hell with them.” 

Eris smirked, loving the determination that settled in your eyes as you dragged him over to the living room and finished setting up the tea that had started to whistle on the stovetop. You would carve out a space for yourself in this world and be happy, even if it killed you.

“To hell with them.” He repeated.

Business and pleasure. The two were impossible for him to separate, which is why he cherished time spent with you. The pair of you spoke easily together, seamlessly transitioning from discussions of grain reports, treaties, and trade deals to banter about the Harvest Festival and the latest court gossip. Halvor was long gone, and Bryaxis off hunting, when the talking ceased and Eris found himself comfortably spread out on your velvet couch, shirt unbuttoned, and head resting in your lap as you wove your fingers through his hair.

He opened his eyes, lazy and slow, and quietly took in your features - the slope of your nose, the gentle curves of your cheeks and lips as you smiled at him, the contentment in your eyes that shifted into deep thought. 

He waited for you to share them with him.

“I’ve been thinking about your proposal.” You said carefully and he froze beneath your hands.

“You-you have?” Eris swallowed and sat up, keeping his distance even as he dared to hope. You’d both been keeping your relationship secret, visiting each other under the guise of court business and court business only. It had certainly started out that way, but things had quickly shifted into something far more intimate and worthy of secrecy… Then Eris had asked if it could stop being so secret.

You nodded, searching his face for something more than the neutral mask every High Lord learned to master. 

You moved onto his lap, laying your hands on the sides of his face as his eyes widened ever so slightly, “My answer is yes.” 

“Yes?” He asked in disbelief. 

Yes to living with him. Yes to going to court with him. Yes to showing the world that he was not alone in his duty. Yes to being by his side wherever either of you went.

No more hiding in this house on the outskirts. No more being afraid of what had happened in the past. No more loneliness.

“Yes.” 

He shuddered under your touch and suddenly he was everywhere. His hands roamed the expanse of your back, pulling at the fabric of your bodice. Red locks as vivid as flame got knotted beneath your fingers, and his body pressed flush against yours, desperate for any contact as his chest continued to shake with laughter. 

You stayed with him on that couch, neither of you wanting to bother with the effort of walking the extra twenty steps to your bedroom, as articles of clothing were hastily torn off and allowed to float onto the floor in crumples of fabric.

A growl from just outside your front door, low and gravelly enough to shake the ground, woke the two of you up. The sun was kissing the horizon on its way down, lateral rays of light streaming through the window and splashing onto the bookshelves and walls like gold paint. Eris groaned with displeasure, pulling you flush against his chest when you dared to draw yourself up on your arms to look at the door. 

You giggled against him, pulling a rare smile from his lips when he felt your laughter. 

He was all warmth and color beneath you as you shouted at Bryaxis to give you more time alone. He could practically hear the rolling of eyes with the huff that Bryaxis gave out. But he eventually trotted away to find a patch of soft grass from which to watch the sun set.

“It’s good to know a murderous beast like him still has a sense of humor.” Eris quipped, practically humming with pleasure when you melted into him. “You would know. You can be funny sometimes.” 

“Sometimes?!”

“Sometimes!” 

“You must give me more credit than that.”

“I will not.”

“You must. Your High Lord demands it.” Eris said, puffing out his chest and deepening his voice.

“Your High Lord demands it.” You parroted in a silly voice that made Eris chuckle and kiss you again.

You laid in the silence for as long as you could, until the sun was once again buried in the ground and the calls of the Forest House could not be ignored. With every piece of clothing Eris pulled back on his body, the vulnerable joy that came from being with you seemed to dim. 

Was he a lovesick fool for asking you to come to court and be with him? Was the protection of a High Lord worth the dangers that came with it? Lucien had been the first of their brothers to fall in love and he had paid for it dearly. Sometimes Eris had nightmares that you would suffer the same fate.

Eris watched you as you laced up your bodice with quick fingers, fixed your hair, and smoothed your skirts. You looked heavenly in the light of the fire. You were everything he could have dreamed of and more… because you were real… and you loved him as fiercely as he loved you. Which meant he could lose you.

“Y/n.” He whispered your name like a prayer, drawing your attention. You drew close to him, pressing your forehead against his as he took a deep breath, “What you’re agreeing to… you know what it will mean, don’t you?”

You closed your eyes and nodded. This was no light decision and it was why you’d taken three months to come up with an answer for him. 

“It will mean people will come for me, and never stop coming for me, just to hurt you and to hurt this Court.” Eris flinched, but you wouldn’t let him open his mouth to dissuade you. You’d given this much thought, and your decision was made.

“It will mean constant scrutiny from the other Lords and Ladies. A life spent in a house known for its history of cruelty and disloyalty. A life that will never fully be my own.”

Eris was beginning to think he’d truly made a terrible mistake in asking you to be with him. But before that cold mask of his could fall over his features, you grasped his face in yours hands and forced him to look at you.

“But it will also mean a chance to be with you. A chance to lead alongside the first person to give me a real home - a real family. A chance to continue to build and protect what I love. I love you, Eris, and I love Autumn, and I’ll be damned if I don’t protect what I love.”

Eris clenched his teeth, holding back the emotion that threatened to spill out like a ruptured damn.

“I won’t be like this at the Forest House.” He said, hating the truth of the words that fell off his tongue, “I won’t be able to show who I truly am when I’m around others, at least not for now. They’ll call you foolish, or cruel, or wicked for being with me. I can’t promise you an established and worthy court. I-”

“Then we’ll build it ourselves.” You said fiercely, pouring your power into the words, “We’ll build a new court, a new life for ourselves and everyone here. I know you’ll do everything you can to fix things, even if it breaks you.” You whispered the next words reverently against his lips, “Let me help you. Let me do it with you.” 

Eris let the tears run rivers down his cheeks, even as he set his jaw, and stared resolutely into your eyes.

“Let’s do it then. Together.”

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______

Author's note:

*shouts from the mountaintops* I just want Eris to be happy! And I want him to have someone he trusts that can rule alongside him!

That's it. That's the note. Oh and let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters.

Love,

Florence B.

Taglist: @nightless @mmb-09 @thesnugglingduck @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kemillyfreitas @logankemaek @the-sweet-psycho @a-frog-with-a-laptop @flameandshadowx @applerubyy

[superman-the-secret-third-thing]

Crazy Things that happened to Golden/Silver/Bronze Age Superman that he just shrugged off

-He's a clone of a clone and the original Superman died years ago.

-The universe is an infinite time loop, once the big bang occurs it happens again. He has lived through his childhood and early adulthood twice.

-He can't die of old age so if he wants to die he'll have to kill himself.

-He's indirectly responsible for a nuclear apocalypse that laid a planet completely barren, but doesn't remember it because it happened in a time bubble where he was turned back into a baby and sent on his way to earth.

-He's partially responsible for Kandor getting bottled- he went back in time and tried to organize an effort to evacuate the planet, but he forgot to check the name of the city he was in, so their entire fleet got sucked up by Brainiac.

-He cries uncontrollably on his birthday, not because of Krypton's destruction, but because Kryptonians have a tradition of being sad on their birthdays. He hypnotized himself to forget this for some reason.

-He's doomed to be haunted by a white woman with double initials. He once tried to go back in time and not encounter Lois, only to encounter an even crazier bitch who tried to attack him to expose his identity.

-Despite having a rule against killing, he accidentally built a fully sapient and self-aware robot as a teen and killed it without mercy while it begged for it's life.

-Wizards are real

-He attempted to prevent the assassination of Abraham Lincoln but failed, watching John Wilkes Booth shoot the president while he stood frozen.

-His eyes rolled so far back into his head he looked at his own brain.

-A clone of himself, identical in every way except for his super powers committed suicide via gunshot.

-Mxyzptlk made a fake wife and son for Superman and acted like Mxy had just removed the memory of his marriage instead of just making them up wholeheartedly. He turned out to be the kid but the wife was a fully sapient magical construct who dies on the floor.

-Bizarro is the Christian devil, the Yeti and Mary Shelly's inspiration for Frankenstein

-A mob wanted to make superman guilty of murder, so they resurrected a guy from the dead for ten hours, so he can get superman to punch him at the exact right time to fall dead again. He got hit by a car so plan B was Boxing Match + Suicide capsule

-The Kryptonians once built an exact duplicate of Krypton as a decoy to distract space pirates who wanted to rob the planet. Superman found it, an unknowingly activated the booby trap, killing every sentient robot duplicate, including his parents. He didn't know that they were fake at the time.

-If you smash a potted tibetan plant over your skill at a right angle, you can see exactly one hour into the future

-Superman robots explode f they hear a language that isn't English.

-John Corben, Metallo and Bruce Wayne, Batman look exactly like him.

-His love interests always have LL initials. Lyla Lerrol (Kryptonian Actress), Lois Lane (Human Reporter), Lana Lang (Smallville Resident), Lori Lemaris (Mermaid telepath) and Lahla (Thorone Dissenter)

I'll post if I can think of more.