#SOAR 1 - the Jump!

[oakdll]

“who do you main in smash bros”

peter griffin except he has the best nair in the game and an up b where you can sd but it kills first

[ask-de-writer]

I would like to thank Delightfully

EAGER BINGE READER

@furislupus​ for READING and LIKING

My whole MASTER STORY INDEX SECTION,

He wandered over to Poetry

for the poems DELIMMA and TO WAR I RIDE!

From there he went to

SCIENCE FICTION for

SOAR 1, the Jump!

CAPTURED BY THE CLANS (Parts 1 & 2 of 3)

[jjjjisun]

Pre-Game Ritual (Part 2)

Minju X Male Reader | 10304 words

TW: Incest

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Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

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"Oh my God! Oh my God!" Minju said into her hands which she'd placed nervously over her mouth.

It was their offense's first drive of the game and they'd advanced the football passed midfield. Y/N had dropped back for a pass, and from what she could tell, it looked like he intended to throw a deep ball. He'd made a few good passes, but this one was going to be big.

He faked...he dodged a tackle... and then he stepped up and planted his front foot.

As Y/N released the ball her heart stopped. She almost couldn't look, but she had to. The ball soared through the air; she didn't even know who he was passing it to. And then it came down...

...over two defenders... Minju gasped.

...right into the arms of his receiver. Much of the crowd stood, screaming. Darren, the guy who caught it, had nobody between him and the endzone. As he sprinted passed the goal line, Minju was jumping up and down, looking incredible in her cheerleader outfit and feeling it for her brother who'd passed for the first touchdown.

[Today, when I score the first touchdown, I'll only be seeing you. ]

Minju had heard her phone buzz as she lay dozing Saturday morning with the sun streaming in her room. Somehow she knew it would be from her brother before she could even pick it up. It had been all Minju could think about until she saw him again on the field.

When plays were going on, most of the cheerleaders were fixated on their team or favorite team members. Some of the girls were inevitably dating receivers or linebackers or even the occasional linemen if they were brave. For the first time, Minju was the quarterback's, and the secret was all hers.

Except, when the team ran by after celebrating with their receiver in the endzone, Y/N had come close and pointed with the ball right at her. The other girls didn't make anything of it, more so jealous for his unflinching attention, but to Minju it meant a lot. It was pure, like the way her teammates saw it, but in a different way. It was pure love for Y/N and hope for what would come next with him.

By halftime, Y/N looked like a better quarterback than he had ever before. People could be so fickle: cursing him one moment and acting like he was their best friend the next. Nobody would have thought to put the first two games on Y/N after time had expired. He was phenomenal.

All game, Y/N could feel the presence of his little sister on the sidelines. But it had focused him. He didn't aim to prove that he had enjoyed what had happened at home the previous day, but he had anyway. It would be such a convenient excuse that Minju had led him to play his best game yet, and only with a few minutes of her time in the upstairs bathroom on her knees for her brother. He'd already looked forward to spending time with her every Friday for a year; now he had one more reason to do so if she allowed it.

Minju hoped nobody could tell how wet she'd gotten over the course of the game, more each time she saw her brother score and soon after felt his eyes upon her. It connected her with his every move, every play in the game. She was slowly learning what it meant to want someone badly, she just didn't recognize the feeling or understand how it could be so intense toward her big brother.

He couldn't do more than hug her after the game, and Minju didn't dare whisper into his ear that she intended to blow him again before the next game; there were too many people and cameras watching. It would have to stay secret, hidden in the grin she shot him when he was escorted away by his players.

"I love you," she mouthed at him, seeing him smile as he turned away.

"Oh my God will you PLEASE set me up with him?" asked her teammate Danica, throwing her arm over Minju and watching the football team walk off the field.

Minju gave her friend a knowing look, "I think you're going to have to get in line," she said, motioning toward the tunnel and all the people, mostly girls, trying to high five or simply get a hand on the football players as they walked into the tunnel. The obvious focus of their attention was Y/N, who was clueless and high five-ing everyone who reached close enough.

"He's such a punk," Danica expressed, "he could have any one of us girls and he refuses to acknowledge anyone but you!"

Minju giggled, feeling embarrassed and flattered. Danica didn't seem to have any clue that the attention was more than innocent. Minju wondered what her teammate might say if she admitted to imagining Y/N in the ways she did, let alone sucking him off.

[I was watching you when I wasn't on the field today, you're a natural Minju'!] Y/N texted her at some point after the game.

-You should be focusing on your team, not me!-

[Well then you shouldn't be wearing that ridiculous uniform! How am I supposed to focus my eyes downfield when my little sister is wearing almost nothing on the sideline?]

-Oh shut up! You're exaggerating-

[Maybe a little. What are you doing right now?]

-Um...sitting in the locker room, in my towel. The girls are planning what bar to go to tonight.-

[Tell me you're not thinking about going with them!?]

The cheerleaders were known for dressing up as sexy as they could and descending on bars in a pack. Everybody got excited when they'd show up, mostly guys just hoping to take one home. The thought worried Y/N to no end.

The way Y/N was texting her made Minju feel giddy. Sitting there in nothing but her towel, she felt secretive and loved, knowing every girl in the room would have liked to be in Minju's position but only she was receiving attention from her wonderful brother.

-Actually... Danica got me a fake so I think they're expecting me to go...-

[Damn that girl! Alright where are you going, because that's where we're going.]

-Are you trying to keep an eye on me?? It sounds like that Irish bar on 5th St, Flannery's or something?-

[Oh God. Okay, And yes...two eyes. I'm gonna try and get the guys to go there.]

[Promise me you'll keep an eye on your drink at that place, okay? I'm probably not the only one who saw how good you looked out there today]

His compliments and protectiveness made her smile. Minju almost felt as if she didn't deserve to be treated so well by him, but she wasn't complaining. As the excited teenager got ready to go out that night, there is only one person she hoped would appreciate all the effort she was putting into her make-up and outfit.

"Holy shit," one of Y/N's linemen, Cole Hansen, said grabbing his shoulder suddenly, "the girls are here."

He knew who Cole meant, and sure enough, the cheerleading team was walking through the doors one by one, each of them more seductively dressed than the last. Y/N almost hoped he would not see his little sister walk through that door. And when she did, he knew his worries had been justified.

She wasn't wearing the most edgy outfit of her teammates, but Y/N wondered if everybody saw what he did. It didn't matter what she was wearing, because Minju had this incredible glow to her. Maybe it was just him, but it seemed like the whole place got quieter when she walked in.

She had on a blue top, loose and with a pattern like the surface of rippling waves that hung from two thin cords over her shoulders. It stopped just below the top of her shorts, which were what Y/N couldn't tear his eyes from. They were this tiny white pair that came just higher than usual with three buttons looking like they were struggling to hold on. Obviously, they barely made it lower than her butt, drawing his eyes between his sister's thighs and the daydream of what might be underneath.

He watched the young brunette walk in and look around. She stood up on her toes to see over the crowd, showing more of her cute stomach to him while she searched expectantly. Minju's eyes gleamed when they found her brother's; she could tell he had seen her first.

"Hey!" She said when she walked over to him, "how come you just let me stand there looking around like a dummy!"

"Maybe because I couldn't believe what you were wearing! How am I supposed to relax with my little sister walking around looking like that?"

Minju smiled apprehensively, "what's the matter, you don't like it?"

Y/N's raised eyes and the way he'd placed his hand on Minju's back momentarily, so that they felt his warm hand against her bare side, answered her question instead. Both of them had had a little to drink before getting to the bar; they had to be careful.

"Don't worry big brother, my Friday's are already taken..." she said only to him.

Minju knew she couldn't spend the night hovering around her brother. In truth, it was kind of exciting to Minju to talk to another boy and wonder if her brother had seen. Whenever she looked his way, a girl seemed to be throwing herself at the quarterback, but when Minju caught her brother's eye she knew he was focused elsewhere.

They hadn't only shared that one encounter in the bathroom. It felt now like everything was connected: their many years growing up, the Fridays they'd spent together for years now... Even this trip to the bar was a part of a long and significant relationship that confused Minju and yet left her excited for what might come next. Y/N could see what he wanted, she was standing right across the bar from him, but he needed to be gentle, to respect her and be ready if she drew a line he couldn't cross.

At one point in the night, the slightly intoxicated teenager had made her way back over to her brother and his friends. A whole group of football players stood around both of them. It was nice to feel her brother close by her side as the team pretended they weren't gawking at her. And though Y/N felt protective of his pretty little sis, he also had this pang of pride that struck him as he saw each guy entranced by her presence.

They only got a moment or two to themselves, and even then Y/N couldn't say what he wanted to, or touch her hips or sides with his hand to express the way she was affecting him. It was so new to him, feeling utterly desirous of Minju. Seeing her now, so incredibly attractive in that top and tiny white shorts, Y/N wondered if anyone would blame him for being so fixated on her and what was happening between them, regardless of the fact that they were brother and sister.

It was a pretty amazing night, always better when Y/N had his little sister by his side, and always a little less bright when she wasn't.

"I think I'm gonna go," Minju yelled to one of her friends over the loud music.

"Oh really? I was kinda thinking the same thing!" her friend Claire said as she looked around and relayed the message to her teammates. Like Y/N had said before, they always moved in a pack.

Minju was somewhat disappointed. She had thought maybe, just maybe, she could convince Y/N to take her home. She would have played the "I'm drunk and you need to take care of your little sister," card. Maybe something could have happened during the car ride home, or when they stopped to drop Minju off at her dorm.

But it was not to be. Y/N looked disappointedly over the crowd as Minju mouthed, 'BYE' at him on her way out with the rest of the cheerleading team ushering her along. The pack had moved quick. Again, Y/N was left wanting more. Minju spent the cab ride home wondering if any of the girls hanging on him would succeed in bedding him. A possessive, selfish part of her hoped that she'd dressed seductively enough to be the only one her brother would remember.

-

-Away game this week...- Minju texted her brother during class on Wednesday.

[I know. I always hated not spending Friday at home during these.]

-Me too.- Minju quipped. -But I'll be with you this time!-

Y/N had almost forgotten, the cheerleading team travelled to away games! But that didn't necessarily improve anything: Y/N had managed to sneak a few minutes with Eunju alone on away weekends, but they'd also been seen a few times and got away with it because well... they weren't brother and sister.

[Too bad they keep us on kind of a tight leash, not a lot of alone time.]

-Why would we need that? :) - Minju texted back. She secretly loved that he was expecting something.

[I guess I'll just have to miss out on the backrub.]

He was avoiding the real reason they might need to be alone.

[Which is unfortunate because I thought you might like one too.]

Or maybe he wasn't!

Minju wondered that many times before she was on the bus to the away stadium on Friday morning. They didn't really get a chance to talk or text between then; Y/N was probably really busy getting ready for the game that weekend. It was supposed to be a bit more challenging when they played on the road.

Y/N was beginning to worry that his little sister, and his now-ex-girlfriend had spoken the truth: that he didn't play as well without someone else 'helping him out' before the big game. He'd tried doing it himself, and he probably would that night, but it definitely wasn't as good as seeing his 18-year-old little sis knelt in front of him and innocently bobbing her head on him 'just to help.'

Eunju hadn't put that thought in his head, but she was definitely making him concerned about it. He was lying awake in bed next to his slumbering lineman Cole when he heard a keycard unlock the hotel room with a couple beeps.

Y/N waited a moment in the dark, hearing very quiet footsteps and then sensing weight being put on the end of the bed. He almost panicked and turned on the light, but when he saw Minju's face climbing up toward him Y/N let out a sigh of relief.

Minju quickly climbed under the covers with him. He didn't know it, but her pajama pants were lying in a heap by the door. He certainly felt her bare legs as she got on top of him and intentionally pushed her mound against his hips. Both of them felt Y/N's cock respond immediately.

"Hey! How did you get in here?" Y/N asked excitedly but as quietly as he could.

"I have my ways..." Minju whispered. In truth she'd simply batted her eyes at the guy at reception and told him she'd lost her room key.

She was being really forward, Y/N thought. He couldn't see her but he could feel her body and she wasn't wearing much. What's more, Minju was also gently wiggling her hips around and all that separated his hardening cock and her untouched little pussy was a few layers of fabric.

"I've been thinking about you," Minju said, causing another throb below.

"I haven't stopped for a second since last Friday..." Y/N said.

They were both talking so quietly; it felt naughty and secretive and there was no denying that both Minju and her brother were aroused.

"I know you've gotta sleep," she said, "I just thought maybe you'd like it if I came over before you got your beauty rest."

"You were right," Y/N whispered back immediately, feeling like he couldn't take the motion of his little sister's hips on his lap without doing more. "Oh god Minju," he breathed, knowing her little quim was set right on top of his erection.

"I'll try to make you cum quickly, okay?" Minju asked. Y/N didn't answer; that wasn't necessarily what he wanted. Truthfully he wanted her to just stay there on top of him and let him feel her up like they were high school lovers, though Minju wasn't far from that. But they hadn't touched each other like that before; Y/N wasn't sure she'd be okay with it.

Whether he would get that opportunity or not, Minju quickly maneuvered herself around and was no sooner turned around and facing his upturned hardness than he was ready for her to put it in her mouth.

She was so determined. Right away Minju tugged his waistband down so she could take her brother's cock to her lips. She stuck out her tongue and touched it teasingly to his head. Her hands held him firmly while she lapped at him, and before long Minju was taking an inch or more past her lips.

It didn't take long for Y/N to realize that his little sister had left herself in a vulnerable position. There wasn't much light in the room, but he could see the rambunctious brunette's behind and simple pair of white cotton panties staring him in the face.

Minju was just attempting to take more of her big brother's cock in her mouth when she felt it.

"Unhhhh..." she accidentally moaned.

Both of them halted and spent a few seconds of terror waiting for the sleeping roommate to snore again. When it came, Minju sighed in relief, only to find herself fighting not to make another sound immediately thereafter.

Her brother had quickly pulled her panties aside and run his tongue pointedly across her clit and taut lips. Y/N thought he'd never taste something so sweet. Minju had been wet since the moment she'd decided to sneak into her brother's room, though she hadn't dreamed he'd be licking her young slit like he was now.

She had to try to go on. It was so hard to keep licking her brother and sucking on as many inches as she could fit in her mouth when he began to lap at her pussy again and again. He'd never enjoyed giving oral to a girl so much as he did his little sister; Y/N's hands had slid over her tiny butt and grasped her hips to pull them towards him. Then one of his hands moved to thumb Minju's clit and it was clear she would orgasm in no time.

Minju had to give up sucking on her brother, but he didn't care at all because the obviousness with which his sister's body was showing her arousal had him sucking and licking at her clit like he was on a mission. His sister's hips began to quiver in his hands and her tight little tunnel was saturated with her sweet fluids.

Minju collapsed forward onto the bed. She'd buried her face into the mattress to stifle her moans. Y/N didn't care if his roommate had heard. It was too dark for him to know who the mysterious visitor was. If his little sister had to wake up his roommate because she was cumming too hard to contain herself, so be it. Luckily he didn't seem to be awake anyway.

"Oh my God," she whispered to him. She'd crawled around after her orgasm trailed off to kiss him for making her feel so good.

"You weren't supposed to do that Oppa!" she scolded him, "I'm supposed to be the one helping you."

"I know..." Y/N relented, "but you were right there in front of me and I had to do it."

Minju kissed him on the lips. "I haven't ever cum so quickly, you are really good at that!"

"But we still need to take care of you. What do you want?" Minju asked, then narrowed her eyes admonishingly at him when she saw his imagination running wild, "...within reason."

"Lay down." Y/N directed her.

Minju apprehensively complied. She didn't know what to expect when he got like this, but it turned her on to no end. Soon Minju was laying down and watching as her brother got on top of her. It made her nervous; she was worried that he would want to have sex with her. Did she want to? Would she be ready? Would it hurt?

"Do you want me to take these off?" Minju asked. Y/N nodded, leaving his little sister wondering what he had in mind. "We're not going to have sex, are we?"

Y/N smiled lovingly, "No Minju, I was just going to kinda rub against you. I'm not gonna last very long." Minju smiled with a sigh, not exactly sure that she was relieved. Her brother helped her pull the very wet pair of underwear off until she was totally bottomless.

"Fuck Minju'!" Y/N whispered to her after he looked at her bare pussy. Again it was dark in the room, but he could see her tiny lips were totally smooth and bare. "You're really pretty down there too."

Minju shrugged, totally bashful to hear her brother compliment her about it but crazy about him that he had. Knowing that Y/N was the first to see her young pussy made Minju indescribably happy. And the look on his little sister's face was even cuter when she felt Y/N's cock actually touch her bare skin. 'Oh my god,' she thought, it was so close to the real thing. They couldn't do that! She was so conflicted, and then her brother wiggled his cock against her clit.

Minju twitched as she felt her brother's head on her. Soon he was moving more deliberately, a couple of inches at a time sliding against her soaked pussy. It was quiet enough that they could hear the sound it made when his shaft glided between her lips.

The little brunette was totally at her brother's mercy. She knew that if he wanted to, he could just change the angle of his approach and push his cock into her opening. What if he did... if he didn't ask for permission and just fucked her... She would be so mad at him, but then... maybe not.

Minju hadn't expected it to feel so good, but knowing her brother was totally in control and they were so incredibly close to engaging in the most sincere form of incest made Minju's whole body buzz. Apparently her big brother agreed, because she could feel him wince in pleasure each time he slid his cock against her.

She was so beautiful. Y/N's little sister let out the quietest pants and cries each time his head pried at her clitoris. She had on a thin cotton top, wrinkled around her waist and bottomless below. Her cheeks were flushed. She'd only just cum a moment before and it seemed from the quaking of her abdomen that she might again. It had just seemed right, that Y/N would finish by only 'pretending' to have sex with Minju. It wasn't so bad if he only touched her from the outside; it was only incest if he pushed into her.

Knowing he was so close to fucking his little sister excited Y/N intensely. The head of his cock was so near her virgin opening and he was about to cum. With one hand on his shaft and the other holding her hips firmly in place, Y/N prepared for the inevitable. In one last effort, he dragged his tip up and down firmly against Minju's lips and felt his muscles tighten.

Sperm shot from his head directly onto his little sister's clit. His tip was perfectly aligned and rubbing her sensitive little nub directly. The added warmth, the forbidden nature of her brother's cum and his penis touching her pussy was too much for Minju. Y/N saw her hands grip the sheets on both sides of her body while he spurted out another stream of cum. Minju needed to cry out, she couldn't take another orgasm so soon.

To silence her, Y/N brought his face to hers and kissed her. Trying to keep her mouth from springing open in pleasure, Y/N felt her moan into his kiss. Each time he urged his tip against her mound, another rope of spunk coated the outside of her young, virgin pussy.

Minju felt her brother slide lower after the first few streams came from his cock. It seemed like he was lined up with her tiny opening. She knew it to be true when she felt him pump his cum right upon her. Minju's eyes opened wide, and Y/N found them as he urged his hips forward just enough to feel his tip sealed against her lips. Minju could not believe her brother would do something so daring, or that it excited her so much. Her body quaked when she felt him shoot cum right between the lips his cock was threatening to pry apart.

It was like he was testing her, testing the limits of what she might allow. Seeing her brother lost to such recklessness and risk gave her the most victorious feeling. As the very last of his cum trickled from his tip and right upon her entrance, Minju was as content as could be.

She'd only gone to his room to give him a quick blowjob before the game. She wanted him to play well, to do for him what had so obviously helped in the last game. But now she lay on the bed, under the heavy weight of her big brother, feeling his spent cock against her thigh and the warm, messy cum that he'd deposited on, and probably some just inside her pussy.

"You said you weren't going to put it inside me," she repeated to him,

"I didn't!" Y/N whispered back.

"Well you got really close!" Minju said, chastising him.

"I'm sorry Minju', I guess I just got carried away."

"I'll say," Minju said, stroking his hair behind his ears. "It's okay, I liked it."

She could feel the white remnants coating her unprotected mound; that certainly added to the naughtiness. Even though she was on birth control, she hadn't really considered the risk of it. Her mother told her that it was always important to use a condom; were they flirting with danger by what they had just done? Their mother would probably care less about not using a condom than the other part. Minju started to understand why Y/N might have squirted all his sticky cum on her pussy: thinking about how forbidden that was made Minju want to do it again.

"You made me cum twice!" Minju whispered excitedly. "That wasn't part of the deal either!"

"Well then you shouldn't wear such a cute pair of underwear like that and think I won't want to have more."

Minju giggled mischievously. Her brother was exposing a sexy, nefarious side of her that surprised her more every day.

"I gotta go you big lug," she said, trying feebly to push him off of her.

Y/N rolled to his side and both of them looked at Minju's glistening pussy at the same time. There was shiny white all over it: on her mound, clit, in the little slit between her lips. It looked just like it might if Y/N had simply urged his cock inside of her and shot his cum there instead. Minju was pretty sure she was hoping for that next.

She quietly climbed out of bed, giving her big brother a quick kiss on the lips before she did.

"Have a good game, big brother." She said, lingering only an inch from his face.

Minju looked down one more time and then back up at him with an utterly mischievous look on her face, finally shimmying her panties back up to cover what she and her brother had done. She turned to give him a short glance at her backside with a naughty smile. Y/N was awe-struck, spent and totally in love as he watched her go. The door soon opened and he was left to his thoughts, thoughts entirely devoted to Minju.

-

Just as she expected, Y/N played perfectly the next day. He was getting better; everyone said so. Minju was not even sure that was possible, but she didn't know that much about football. From the looks of things, Y/N was doing everything right. At the third quarter their team was up one touchdown and not at all willing to give up the lead. He looked so good. He was strong and practiced, and every time he took off his helmet she loved how he looked with sweat across his brow and his hair all disheveled.

Sometime in the fourth, there was a drive that put the offense close to the cheerleading team. Minju had been watching her brother all game, and the closer they got, the more excited she felt.

Y/N had the ball on third down and he ended up keeping it and running upfield. She loved it when he did that; he was so fast! The play took him right toward the sideline and he got the first down before being tackled out-of-bounds right in front of the cheer team. Some of the girls screamed as Y/N's helmet came off in the hard tackle and they jumped out of the way to avoid getting bowled over by the two laboring athletes. Minju stayed put and her big brother ended up close enough for her to help him up. She felt daring.

Doing her best to help her brother to his feet and getting in close she spoke into his ear. Everyone else just assumed she was encouraging him; only Y/N and his sister knew what she said.

"Next time..." she breathed into his ear, "I want you to fuck me."

Someone else was handing her brother his helmet and Minju had only a second to catch his gaze. Y/N's eyes got so wide she thought he might faint. He almost did, too, until one of his teammates clapped him on the back and told him to shake off the tough tackle. Nobody suspected a thing. But Y/N scored the next touchdown with a clear mind; he was going to finally fuck his beautiful little sister.

-

"I don't think I have to beat into you boys what an important game this is," Y/N's coach said in practice early the next week. "You all signed up for this. I know you've seen the rankings. You've read what they're saying."

Y/N was ready. This could end up being his best year, with the best combination of guys he could hope to play with. Everything was going right, and he wasn't about to mess things up. After the coach spoke they joined hands and chanted before breaking to hit the showers.

He got to see his little sister that week. She'd just gotten back from cleaning up after cheer practice and she was drying her hair with a towel when he knocked on her dorm room door. She was happy as always, excited that her big brother had come to visit her in the dorms. All the other girls went gaga over him when they saw him in the halls. It felt like he was all hers.

"Hey troublemaker," Y/N said as he picked her up with only one arm when he walked in the room. Minju could feel his big chest as he squeezed her against him; even his arm felt hardened around her waist.

"Oh hey Deb, what's going on?" Y/N said to Minju's roommate. He tried to look excited to see her, but he'd actually been hoping to be alone with Minju. Deb said hello to her brother and fumbled over her words as she asked Y/N about the upcoming game.

"I'm putting this one all on the cheerleader's actually," Y/N said, watching his little sister roll her eyes, "if they do a good job this week, we'll all be just fine."

Deb laughed while Minju shot her brother a sideways look. She wondered if he was talking about something else, and even though he was being a bit presumptuous, she knew she had promised him something.

Y/N had to be careful not to be too obvious about how hot he found his little sister in just a thin top and shorts. She had planned to spend the night in studying. At the moment she was wondering what her big brother might have planned for the evening, showing up at her dorm room unannounced. Technically, they hadn't discussed engaging in any of their extracurriculars on days other than the Friday before a game. Maybe he wanted more than that?

Apparently, her roommate wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to spend time with the school quarterback, even if both he and Minju were wondering what might happen between them if Deborah had left. It was okay though, the three spent about an hour chatting and laughing out loud. Minju simply couldn't spend enough time with her brother, and she was ensnared by his blue eyes and how often they found her as they talked. He had such an endearing quality about him; both Deb and Minju felt totally at ease.

"See ya Friday sis?" Y/N asked as he gathered his things to leave.

"You bet loser," Minju promised.

On his way out, Y/N flicked his fingers once and caught his sister on her plump little butt cheek. Minju shrieked and pushed him out the door before shutting it behind her and rubbing the stinging spot where his fingers had touched.

Deborah looked surprised and totally jealous, "do you know how lucky you are?" she asked, apparently not making much of it.

"Are you kidding," Minju asked, "he's been doing that since we were just kids. I hate it!"

But in truth she didn't really hate it anymore. In truth, she craved every time Y/N touched her now, worried it might be too long before he found one reason or another to put his hands on her. She was nervous, no terrified about what she thought might be coming Friday when she and her brother were alone at home. But at the same time, it was all she could think about, and it aroused her to no end.

When Friday came, Minju got dolled up as much as she possibly could before she left for home. She wore the tiniest pair of soft, blue shorts she owned, a gray tank-top that fit her snugly without a wrinkle... the works. She had a naughty thought in her head that he might not be able to control himself and just attack her when she walked in the door.

Minju was on autopilot; she didn't even remember getting in the car. Would it hurt? Would he fit? What if her brother didn't like how she felt? What if he didn't want to? A million thoughts were rolling through her head when she pulled in the driveway.

At some point when Y/N was sitting on the couch waiting for his little sister to get home, wondering what might happen with her when she did, he heard a commotion in the front yard. Hearing what sounded like a bunch of screaming, he quickly darted to the front door. A whole group of girls was crowded in the front drive around someone. As they picked her up, all of them laughing excitedly, he saw that his little sister was getting carried, fighting to a party bus by the rest of her cheerleading team.

He'd heard about it, but never knew when the 'hazing' took place. Apparently they went to every bar in town and made the new girls cheer on top of the bars and tables. He was happy for Minju, knowing she'd remember this for a long time, but it was bittersweet. He'd only caught a glimpse of her but Y/N's little sister looked incredible, and he was wondering if she'd gotten all cute just for him. He thought maybe tonight could have been the night that..."shit," he said aloud, defeated.

Oppa I'm so sorry...- Minju texted her brother when she got a chance on the bus.

[Don't be. Have a ton of fun.]

She wondered if he was mad at her; she'd promised him something and now she was headed in the complete opposite direction of her amazing brother.

[I'm gonna be just fine sis. I mean I'm going to give your captain a ton of shit about taking my sister away from me on my Friday night but...]

She felt so bad. He was probably relying on her, worried about his game the next day, and maybe he really did need to cum to play better the next day.

-I'll get home as soon as I can Oppa, I just don't know how long that will be-

[MINJU REALLY. Please don't worry about me. Just look extra pretty on the field tomorrow, promise?]

-I promise, but I'm coming home tonight. I'll wake you up...-

Both of them had really hoped that was true, but something told Y/N he wouldn't be seeing the little brunette that night. From what he heard, the girls got pretty rowdy until early evening and then they stayed at someone's house for the night having an incredibly girly sleep-over. He fell asleep knowing that he'd be waking himself up the next morning and Minju lay awake on her sleeping bag wishing she could be with her brother.

-

"I don't know if it's the competition, the weather, or something else Jim, but I'm not sure these guys can keep up today..." said the announcer as the first half of the game was nearing its end. Y/N's team was down 17-0 and none of the plays they were running seemed to be working.

"I agree Phil," said the other announcer, "the defense looks scrambled, but furthermore quarterback Y/N Eldridge just can't seem to find an open man. They are really going to need to make some adjustments in the locker room if they want to turn this game around."

The whistle went off and Y/N was left holding the football all the way on the other end of the field. He went over to his sideline and ripped off his helmet, tossing it away in total frustration.

They were good. He'd give them that. His receivers could only get open for a second and he was lucky if he saw it, Even then it seemed Y/N was getting tackled before he could get the pass off every other play. He was lucky to have held on to the ball in the first half.

Everybody was running into the locker room, but not with the same energy that they had been during their previous games. The team felt off, sluggish, and they had no points to build on coming out for the second half.

Their coach didn't have a lot to say. He drew a few plays on the board and called out different players to try to make adjustments. They all knew what they needed to do: work harder, shake it off and focus. Run the plays the way they'd practiced. They could do this.

Y/N had been in halftime locker rooms like this before. After the coach spoke the guys would mostly sit in silence or talk in groups about what they were planning to do. Nobody needed to talk today, apparently, and Y/N needed to get some space.

"I just need a few minutes coach, that alright?" Y/N asked.

His coach had a few words for him and then shoved him off towards a door that led to a different area of the locker room. When the games got tough, Y/N would retreat to the band manager's office in a quiet part of the facilities. He'd shut the lights off and just be quiet for the ten or twenty minutes he had before the second half. Dropping his shoulder-pads on the desk he sat back in the chair and closed his eyes.

Minju knew where to find him. In one of the nights they'd spent curled up on the couch together talking, Y/N told her about his funny routine. She imagined him sitting there in the dark, totally still and catching his breath; he was usually never able to sit still.

Somehow, she'd managed to slip away when the opposing band usually took the field. She might catch hell for it later, but for some reason Minju felt like her brother might really need her.

'Who the hell is that,' he thought as he heard a hand on the doorknob to the tiny office. He saw the flash of yellow in her skirt and knew instantly that his little sister had come; she was the only one who could know where he'd be.

"Minju what are you doing here!" He expressed. Not only was nobody else allowed in the locker room at halftime, but she was probably taking a real chance she wouldn't be able to stay on the cheerleading team for disappearing.

"Shhh..." she said, shutting the door as soundlessly as possible. Y/N wasn't sure he could handle her right now. His head was spinning and full of a million things he needed to be worried about. When he saw her in that freaking uniform, he thought he might explode.

There was nowhere else to sit in the room, and it suited Minju just fine. She made a line right for her brother and sat down in his lap, facing him.

"Minju... the game... I gotta..." he started.

Y/N's words were quickly stifled by his sister's lips. Minju took his face in her hands and held him tight as she kept her lips pressed to his with intent. She stayed that way until she felt his upper body relax. His matted hair pressed against her forehead, damp with sweat. She slowly moved her hands to his hair and felt it between her fingers, pulling back. Y/N's mind was beginning to quiet.

"Oppa," she said, calling for his attention, "look at me."

He opened his eyes, he'd been focusing on the feeling of his little sister's hands in his hair.

"It's okay," she spoke softly to him, "relax."

Slowly she began dragging her fingers back and forth in his favorite spot behind his ears. Every time she did it, Y/N could feel his body letting go of another hit, another botched pass.

When Minju was sure that he was really letting go, she decided he needed more. Reaching her hands over her head she quickly pulled off her uniform top and bra all at once. Dim light showed through the blinds in the window as Minju's breasts shook free of the top. When Y/N opened his eyes again, his beautiful little sister was topless and sitting in his lap. She immediately took his hands and put them on her bare, ample breasts.

He followed her lead like a wide-eyed child. His mind was empty but for the feeling of her, and Minju knew that was exactly what he needed. She cooed as she felt her big brother massage each breast with his palm slowly, longingly. Minju knew it was not how they were supposed to be touching each other, how they were supposed to be kissing each other and she certainly wasn't supposed to do what she did next.

Sliding off of him, hands grazing his biceps, Minju got to her feet. Her brother was watching with a totally dependent wonder in his eyes. He could only stare as he saw his little sister shimmy to remove the tight spandex under her uniform skirt. Seconds later she was pawing at the ties in his pants and tugging the dirty pads down far enough to spring him free.

They both held their breath and stared into each other's eyes as Minju moved to sit back in her brother's lap. He gasped as he felt her bare mound come into contact with his cock again. He wasn't fully hard, but when she sat down on him he quickly became it.

She kissed him again, inviting him to put his hands back on her and simply follow her lead. Y/N was wondering what she was planning as she moved her hips and pushed her brother's cock firmly against her quickly moistening quim. She rubbed him there with her hand feeling his shaft get harder and harder as she stroked him between her hand and her gyrating hips.

Everything was happening all at once. Both siblings were simply reacting: Minju to her brother's need for her and Y/N to the way the teenager was controlling everything around him. Even his hands were where she'd placed them; but then... god did he love her perfect tits.

"Minju what are you..." Y/N begged of her, feeling his little sister sit up on top of him. He could have been fine if she'd just kept sliding her sweet little pussy up and down on his bare cock.

Minju put a finger to her brother's lips. "Shhhh..." she said, hovering just above him, "just let me... unhhhh..."

They'd felt it simultaneously. Y/N's tip was suddenly right at his little sister's entrance and both of them were hypnotized by the forbidden contact.

The face that Minju made next was one that Y/N would take with him for the rest of his life. His mouth opened and his hips flexed as Minju did the unthinkable. She lowered herself until Y/N's head pried past her lips.

She stopped moving, even their pounding hearts seemed to pause for an instant as Minju's tiny quim allowed Y/N inside. She hovered there, trembling like a leaf as she experienced being fucked, even if only by her brother's tip, for the first time in her life. 'It's your brother' her brain warned her, 'it's your own brother!' And it was the most incredible feeling she'd ever known.

So, after pressing her lips to her brother's without a thought, Minju lowered herself some more.

Y/N's ears filled with the sound of the unknowing brunette's cry as she felt the pain of losing her virginity to her brother. Her gasp brushed his ear with a warmth that made the hairs on the back of his neck tremble He was inside her; there was no denying it. Y/N could no longer protest, and he wouldn't have dreamt of it. She too had her mouth agape and her eyes searching his for some kind of comfort as she adjusted to only an inch or so of her brother's cock.

Y/N moved his hands to his little sister's hips, softly sliding them down and trying to distract her from the moment.

"OhgodOppa..." she gasped. "Fuck..."

She tried to move more, but she needed another moment. In only a matter of minutes she'd found her brother in the room and now she had his big cock an inch or so inside her... she wanted more.

"Minju are you oka...unhhhhh..." he started to say when she let herself slide as far down as she could go.

There was no way she could express how full she felt with her brother's cock buried almost all the way inside her. Minju tried to kiss her brother, but she ended up merely crying and moaning into his mouth. It was the hottest thing he'd ever seen her do, and it was only the very first time she'd felt a cock, her brother's cock, all the way inside her.

"So big..." she breathed, "you're so big Oppa..."

Y/N held her tight as she let her tunnel slowly accommodate his invading rod.

"You're inside me..." Minju told him as much as she told himself, "OhhhOppa... I'm not a virgin anymore."

Minju was obviously deriving pleasure from it, the knowledge that her brother had taken her cherry, or rather she'd given it to him.

"Does it feel good Oppa?"

"God yes... ohMinju," Y/N spoke softly to her as he felt the cute teen lifting her hips again. It was all so much. He couldn't believe that he was sitting there in the locker room, fifty feet or less away from his team and fucking his little sister. He knew it had to be true as the incredibly tight brunette dropped back into his lap.

She moaned, tensed and then tried to relax, taking another few seconds with their hips connected to adjust before withdrawing again.

Y/N wanted it to go on forever. Little by little, Minju was lifting and lowering herself faster onto her brother's cock. He pawed at her body, holding her breasts and then dragging his nails across her bare back as it undulated on top of him.

Knowing they didn't have much time, Minju bit her lip and humped her big brother faster. The pain was going away, but not entirely. She still felt so unbelievably full each time her mound came into contact with Y/N. So Minju held tight to his shoulders, almost digging her nails into them as he penetrated her each time. Not only was he so big but he was reaching so deeply inside her that Minju wondered if it was her cervix that she could feel his engorged tip prodding against on each thrust into her.

She hugged his shoulders tighter, thrusting her tits together. She could feel the dampness from the hard work in his first half between his pecs, the scent of his sweat turning her on as she realized she was now the cliche'd cheerleader fucking the quarterback. Her breasts shook, her abs rippled and Y/N was utterly mesmerized by the gasps and whimpers escaping his little sister's mouth. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and getting messier each time she dropped onto him and felt his cock impale her. All too soon, Y/N felt like he was going to cum.

"Minju, you gotta... you gotta stop," he warned her worriedly, "I'm close."

Minju pulled him with her tiny hand on his chin so he was looking right into her eyes. She only paused a second before wordlessly sinking back into her brother's lap. He knew what she intended to do, and it floored him.

"It's okay Oppa," she whispered, "you can cum in me...uhhh... I'm on the pill."

Even though she knew they shouldn't, Minju couldn't think of another way...she didn't want to. So she kept working her hips up and down and sliding her brother's cock into her tiny opening. She realized that he mustn't have known that his little sister was using birth control when he had squirted cum on and sort-of in her pussy a week ago. The thought that he had carelessly done so would make her giggle when she thought of it later, her brother could be so reckless sometimes.

Minju stared at him, gyrating her hips in such an incredible way that Y/N knew he was done for. Watching the naked little teenager thrust and flex to ride him with determination, Y/N was soon there.

She could see it in his face. His body tensed and his face grimaced. Y/N gasped and tried not to let go; cumming inside his little sister was more than he had imagined at that point. But Minju was not going to get off him in time. She'd never intended to.

"Oh Oppa... that's it...cum for me bro...cum in your little sister's pussy" Minju said, quaking when she felt his cock pump the first of its contents into her.

She sat down hard on him, wiggling her hips as best she could while keeping him fully buried inside her virgin pussy. Steadily, she could feel his cock throb, each time followed by another flood of heat inside her womb. Her brother was cumming inside her, and from what she could tell he was cumming a lot.

Y/N groaned over and over as his little sister moved in his lap relentlessly. His mind was empty, taken over fully by the feeling of filling his baby sis with cum. He held tightly to her soft little butt, keeping her planted there as he came, each throb of his cock emitting more sperm into the eighteen-year-old beauty. His mind felt overcome with sensation as the reasons to have stopped long ago lost the battle to impulse. It mattered not, she felt too good for it to be wrong, and he didn't know it but Minju was beyond blissful to feel his spunk charging her young pussy.

How long had it been: five minutes? ten minutes? more? Minju knew that they didn't have forever, but her brother was holding her so tenderly, still hard and lodged inside her.

"That was...Minju..." her brother said, drawing a smile across his sister's face, "you are the most wonderful girl I've ever..."

He was still recovering. Minju spoke for him, "...fucked?" she asked adorably.

"No," he said, smiling with her, "that I've ever known...seen...I don't know. I just love you so much Minju'."

Minju teased him by lifting her hips a little and realizing how sensitive he must have been when he winced.

"I think you came a lot in me," she told him, "I can feel it, like... everywhere."

"I didn't mean to... I couldn't..."

"Shhh..." she quietened him again, "I knew you were going to."

"But that wasn't how it was supposed to happen. Last night I was gonna..."

"Oppa, I told you," she stopped him again, "relax..." she ran her hands through his hair again.

"Go out there and win for me," she instructed him, "and then you can fuck me tonight the way you want to."

Those words burned in Y/N's skull. They lingered there as Minju stood up, finally slipping her brother's cock out of her with a curious gaze at their junction. White, potent sperm peeked out from between her tiny lips. It slid down her leg as Minju hurried her brother to stand up and helped him back into his pads.

They only exchanged a few words before Minju knew they needed to go. She tried to push him out the door but he shoved her against it, pinning her, still topless and admittedly powerless compared to him. He kissed her, hard. He was getting geared up to get back out on the field, his adrenaline red-hot from what had just happened.

They kissed and their tongues entwined feverishly. Y/N didn't want to go, and Minju didn't want him to leave. A door closing nearby grabbed both of their attention, somebody must have come looking for their quarterback.

Minju pushed her brother out the door and shut it behind him. Leaning against it, she rolled her head backward lazily and did her best to take in what had just happened. Her entire body shivered and she only half-heard her brother's teammate urging him to say something to hype the team up.

Time was lost to her, and Minju had somehow managed to get all her clothes back on and fix her hair before she felt her hand on the doorknob to leave. As she snuck out, Minju heard her brother shouting in the locker room: something about how they were going to go back out there and score a touchdown before the other team knew what hit them. She was powerless to keep the smile off her face.

-

"Where did you go?!" Minju's teammate said worriedly, trying not to call too much attention to her teammate who had suddenly appeared next to her after being gone for almost ten minutes.

"I'm so sorry Megan," Minju answered, "I had the worst cramp in the world and I didn't want to make a fool of myself on the field."

"Well at least you got here in time for the half, you better be ready!" Megan warned.

"I'm much better now," Minju promised, praying that she'd done enough for her brother to help him get back in the game.

Minju could still feel Y/N's warm cum inside her and threatening to work its way out, no matter how much she tried to clean up before she'd put her uniform back on. The sticky sensation made her bite her lip and grin as she finally saw her brother emerge in front of his team at the tunnel nearby. They looked amped, there was an energy in the pack that Minju hoped meant they could do what it took. The thought that Minju had ridden her brother until he came and only she, of the tens of thousands of people there, knew the truth made her feel as special as she had when she saw the love in her brother's eyes not long before.

In minutes, the game was back under way. Everybody's heart thumped as the offense made its way out on to the field for the first time, and with Y/N lined up to take a snap, Minju thought her heart might explode.

Her mind replayed the feeling of her brother's cock sliding into her for the first time until he dropped back with the ball.

A pass, right into his receivers hands for about 6 yards. The whole crowd, including Minju seemed to sigh in relief at once.

Now that that was over, she watched again, remembering this time the way his hands had felt as he held her breasts while she rode him.

A handoff to the runningback, who quickly picked up the first down. The crowd was growing louder... more excited

Each time her brother commanded the ball and the game, it seemed, Minju's heart throbbed and conjured up another fresh memory of what it was like to have her brother inside her. In no time flat he had driven the ball all the way down the field and then scored. The whole crowd was on their feet; it was as if a new team had come out of the locker room.

Minju knew it couldn't have been her... what they did, that made the difference. But the player that the team was clapping on the back and shoving around in excitement as he returned to the sideline was Y/N, and he was all hers. Win or lose, things were going to be completely different for Minju and her big brother, and the thought brought her nothing but joy.

Y/N looked down the sideline to see the bubbly cheerleaders jumping around and chanting, but his eyes were only searching for one: the one with that amazing little rear and the breasts that she couldn't quite hide in her uniform top... the girl who seemed to have a little something extra as she shouted out the cheers...Y/N's little sister.

And she was all his.

He could tell that Minju was avoiding looking his way. She was trying hard to focus on her cheers as she felt her brother's eyes on her from half the field away. Thousands of people were likely looking at her right then, but Y/N's eyes were all that mattered. The things he was going to do to her...

A player hitting him on the shoulder was enough to keep his head in the game, and normally a distraction was no good, but with Minju there he simply felt... clear. Y/N seemed to know he was going to win this game, he was going to be the leader his team needed and then afterwards, when the crowd cleared, when people stopped texting to congratulate him, Y/N was going to somehow find a way to be alone with Minju and make love to her the way she deserved.

In the back of his mind for the whole game, he heard the beautiful cries of his little sister. It made him call for the snap louder, throw the ball harder and use pinpoint accuracy to direct the ball and the team wherever it needed to go. In what felt like no time at all, the game was over.

Y/N might have had to ask if they won if his team wasn't hollering and rallying all around him when the whistle blew and the ball was in his hand.

They'd won.

They'd gone into the halftime looking like a bunch of amateurs and come out to teach a lesson.

They'd won a game that would establish them a fierce competitor for at least another year to come.

Y/N's dreams were coming true, and as he and the team were finally allowed to exit, he saw his little sister waiting patiently to follow the team off of the field. As soon as he possibly could, he was going to worship his gorgeous little sis in every way he could and make her feel as amazing as he did for the second time that day.

[ambrosiagoldfish]

Can you write more Adam fics plz there so freaking good

Benefit of the Doubt PT.2

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Viewer discretion is advised

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff to Angst to comfort, General Adam TW’s, Reader lowkey-highkey has a complex about being loved, Panic attack (I’m not even sure if this is correct term or not), Adam is afraid of heights (makes sense in story) This is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader (Y/n is once again not used lol)

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Request Box: Open

Word count: 3136

A/N: Hi! I’d like to Thank you all for the love and support on Part 1! It means a lot that you all enjoyed it as I loved writing it! I’d also like to apologize for this being a week late, I honestly had 0 idea on how to start this one and then a bunch of stuff in my life happened, so it was a mess.

So as an apology I tried to make this one longer than the first! (I seemed to go a little overboard but it’s fine)

Anyways I hope you all enjoy part 2 to ‘Benefit of the doubt’ and as always, if you do, please tell me if want another part in replies/requests/DM’s!

Proofread but of course could have missed something

Tags: @tired-of-life-86

To think love could feel this good.

You were made for it, to give it, receive it… You’ve waited your entire existence for this love, This closeness. It doesn’t even feel real now, even as you’re walking down the golden lined streets of heaven with his arm wrapped around you, all while you’ve been showing him around. The best places to eat, entertainment, or just a nice park. You made sure to show him all of it.

He kept his wings tucked to his sides, the gold contrasting with the white of his robe. The feathers at first glance looked sharp, but now, being so close to him, you could see each of them individually and how soft they must be.

“Hey Sweetcheeks, my eyes are up here”

You jump slightly “Sorry… Adam.” You avert your eyes away from him and focus them in front of you.

Adam laughed “I didn’t say you had to fuxkin’ to stop”

His wings truly were beautiful. It was hard to keep your eyes off them. Adam had only got to heaven recently, it made you wonder if he had the chance to use them yet. You remember when you were first created, wings took forever to get used to. You crashed and fell so many times before you figured out how to use them

Properly.

“Ok seriously, you keep staring, what the fxck is up with you?”

“It’s nothing, just…. Have you tried out your wings yet?”

“Uh, yeah totally, they’re rad as hell” Adam’s voice drifted off, the LED eyes of his mask looking away from you as you both walked. Was he… lying? Why would he lie?

You quickly walked in front of Adam, leaving his warm embrace, gently you took his hands as your wings picked you off the ground. The gust of wind with each flap softly blew around you.

“Well, come on, it will be faster than walking.” Your voice was soft and airy. Slowly, so very slowly, you lifted yourself higher from the ground, Adam’s hands locked firmly in yours, as he was pulled with you in the air.

“W-Wait a- shit- Wait a- motherfuxking second“ Adam yelled strand after strand of curses as you both lifted further and further into the air. His body flailed and his legs kicked against nothing. You pull him to you, his arms quickly snake around your waist, holding on for his dear After-life.

“Adam… did you lie to me?” Your voice was still so soft, so calm, so sweet.

“Fuck- yes I lied, I’m sorry, so put me the fuck down you crazy asshole-“ Vulgar as ever, his voice had fear in it, the LED eyes were forced shut and his grip around you was getting tighter and tighter.

Your arms wrapped around Adam’s head as you laid back, letting The wind breeze from the air pull and push you along its path with your wings soaring through the clouds..

“Adam, it’s ok, I promise you’re fine, all you have to do is open your eyes.”

You pet the back of his neck trying to sooth him which seemed to work after a few seconds. Adam didn’t want to, he really didn’t want to open his eyes. But the longer he kept them close, the more you would whisper soft words of encouragement to him. Eventually, his eyes slowly but surely opened.

“See? There is nothing to be scared of. I’ve got you.”

You hold him closer in your embrace. Adam looked below, the white vastness of heaven’s clouds beneath you both felt unreal, but as amazing a sight it was, Adam’s grip on you didn’t loosen.

“So… I’m guessing you don’t know how to fly yet?” You laugh a little, rubbing a spot on his back, just between his wings comfortingly.

Adam huffed and looked away “oh! I couldn’t fxcking see that!”

You held him close to you. The embrace seemed never ending, and you loved every second of it. Feeling the warmth of his plump body next to you was like a dream come true.

“Here let me just…”

You moved your hands slowly down his arms, caressing the soft flesh as they moved to eventually be at his hands behind you. You began to leisurely undo the grip he had around you.

“What do you think you're doing-“

“Shhh, relax, just trust me, ok?”

With each finger being removed from you, the grip lessened bit by bit, until eventually his hands were fully in yours. Your face leaned closer to his,

“Come on, just give your wings a good flap, trust me.”

“Ugh…. Fine but I swear to god if you let go-“

“I won’t.” Your voice was firm, yet still remained reassuring.

Adam didn’t want to do this. He really didn’t want to. But what other choice did he have? He gruffs and extends his wings from his body. The wind brushed and tickled at his feathers. The way the light hit them caused a glare of gold to be cast from them, enveloping you both. Then, he gave two hard flaps of his wings, he lifted up slightly before quickly falling back to where he was.

“There you go! Now keep doing that.”

Adam continued, his wings slowly pushing him up and up before being sent back down when he stopped. This repeated for a few minutes until he finally got a grip on it. The entire time, you were laughing. Pure unadulterated laughs of joy.

Truly, to think love could feel this good?

“See? You're a natural!”

“Of course I am! I’m the Original Dick, obviously I’d… be good at this… flying… shit.” With all the parading he was doing he kept forgetting to use his wings causing him to fall. ‘A natural’ may have been an overstatement on your part, but hey? At least he hasn’t fallen flat on his face yet!

Gently, you led him through air, giving him reassurance every few feet you flew, never letting go. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours. Before you knew it a brisk orange sunset encased you both with its hue. That’s when you realized just how long you both had been flying.

“You must be tired with sightseeing all day… I think it’s time we go home and rest, yeah?”

“Home?” Adam’s voice sounded for a moment genuinely confused. Had he not been told he’d have a place to live in heaven? As much respect you had for Sera, you’ll have to file a complaint to avoid this with future souls.

You gripped his hand and opened your wings letting the wind lead you through the clouds and above the city. The angels below look like ants at the height you both were. It was peaceful, the flight back home. But it did seem… off? So… quiet? You couldn’t put it together, at least not at the moment, But Adam hadn’t spoken a word since you both left.

Adam, while yes, he was initially confused, it made sense to him, why wouldn’t heaven have a place for its people, a place for each of them to relax, to feel safe, happy, at home.

Home was such a weird word for Adam. Has he ever felt like a place was his ‘home’? The closest thing to it was the Garden of Eden but even that proved to be anything but a home for him. Ever since that snake entered his garden.

No. He can’t think about that now. He doesn’t want to have to think about that again. But oh-do thoughts love to worm their way back into your mind when you least want them to. He’s snaps out of his thoughts when your voice picks up

“Ok, we’re here! Just get yourself settled in and I’ll go make us something to eat. I didn't really know what food you’d like so I mainly just have junk food… I hope that's ok.”

Adam nods his head nonchalantly

You smile, waking him over to the small, plush couch in the living room and handing him a blanket and some pillows. Telling him to wait a second as you fetch some food, leaving him alone.

Adam thought your house seemed welcoming enough, ‘well… our house’ Adam thought. The living room was dark aside from a few luminous lights around the room as well as the small blue gleam from the windows from the night sky.

The couch was comfortable and the pillows just as much. And the blanket you gave him was soft and warm. This really was heaven, huh?

His thoughts are, once again, interrupted by your voice, “Ok here we go, I’ve got snacks and some soda” you say, handing him some of the many food you ravaged from your fridge and sitting beside him, wrapping yourself in the shared blanket.

Grabbing the remote lying next to you, you flick on the TV flipping through the channel before ending on a cheesy sitcom, you keep the volume low wanting to enjoy any conversation with Adam. Except… he never started one. So that’s what felt off.

The entire time you flew back home, got snacks and found something to watch. He hadn't said a word. You may not have known him long but even you had already picked up that he was an advid talker in a conversation.

“Is… everything ok Adam?” You whispered, not want to scare him with your random words.

“What kind of question is that, I’m fxcking fine… I’m fine.” His voice trailed off at the end almost getting as quiet as yours.

“Are you sure cause-“

“I said I’m fuxking fine!” His voice roared through the dark room. Gritty and callous, but you could tell it was meant to hide something. Something he didn’t want you to see.

“I’m sorry…” you paused. What did you want to say from here? What could you say? You took a deep breath and tried to continue. “I… I know I said this earlier… when Sera left.”

Adam’s LED mask looked away from you half shut eyes and a frown forming a scowl on it, but still he let you continue.

“But I’m going to say it again anyways cause… I mean it. I’m really happy to have you here. To finally have you home” you place your arm around Adam’s back rubbing it soothingly as let your head slowly lax onto him, gently cuddling close to him.

That word again… home. That’s all he could think about ever since he first heard you say it. Why? Why couldn’t he get it out of his head? His breathing was becoming unsteady with each new thought and image his brain made. Lilith and Eve, they were made to be apart of his home, for him to be apart of their homes. So why? Why did it end that way?

Suddenly Adam leap from the couch as fast as he could, the shear force knocking you to the other side of the couch, sending the food to scatter and drinks to spill to the floor.

“Adam!?” Your voice was frightened at the sudden movement. Adam looked just as frightened as you, at least from what you could tell through the LED mask. He suddenly began running, where? he didn’t know, the rooms in the house looked the same. But all he knew is that he needed to be away from you. You followed quickly behind him and pleaded for him to tell you what was wrong, but eventually he ran into a room and locked the door.

He looked around, already out of breath. He was in a bathroom. He felt his knees give out under him as he tried to slowly sit down by the tub. His breath heavy, it was hard to breathe, this stupid mask. He needed it off. But just as he went to do so,

*rattle rattle rattle*

The doorknob began to move followed by frantic knocking on the door.

“Adam! Are you ok?!” Your voice pleaded through the wood of the door.

“Fuxk- I'm fine! How many times do I have to tell you that shit” his voice cracked a few times followed by a strand of curses leaving his lips.

Home. The word repeated like a mantra in his head. Like it was mocking him. Was he not meant to have a place he called a home? To have someone to return to, who would tell him “welcome back!” Without even being told to?

Lilith hated him, Eve betrayed and hurt him like no one else before, ever. They were made to be with him, one was literally made to be his other half. The garden, his home, was taken from him because of something, someone he couldn’t control. it all comes back to him. That albino snake in the grass.

Lucifer, ‘The dreamer’… was this some sort of game to him? To toy with his emotions, treat him like some kind of plaything to mess with, to screw over? What kind of life was it? To have every opportunity and opening be broken down by him, And Adam being powerless to stop it?

“Adam! Please open the door!” Your voice was even more frantic now, knocking every few seconds before it quickly quieted down. Your body slumped against the door.

“Adam… I’m sorry if I hurt you or… or if I was going too fast… I didn't mean to… I’m so sorry…” your breath hitched with tears.

And then there was you.

You have been nothing but kind to him since you met him. You showed him around heaven, taught him how to fly and welcomed him home without having being told to. You were so different. So, so very different. Adam figure that out a while ago now. But in reality, it’s exactly why he was terrified.

To have someone who loves him so... unconditionally.

*click*

The sound of the door unlocking drew your attention and was followed by it slowly opening from Adam on the other side, still on the floor.

“Adam!” Your voice was low, already tired from crying. You crawled your way toward him before stopping in front of him, tears still falling from your face, “I’m sorry Adam, I’m sorry-“ you were cut off by a quick movement.

Warmth enveloped you, clouding your senses as a soft weight laid onto you. Arms wrapped their way around you in an embrace.

“Shit- it's not your fault, it was never your fault…” Adam’s voice was surprisingly soft, a stark contrast to his regular tone. Sincerity evident with each word. All you could do was hide into his large frame and cry at the words.

Adam was never good at comforting people. He himself was never comforted, so the concept was more than a bit foreign to him. But even still, he tried. Slowly he helped you both up from the bathroom floor and made your way back to the couch.

The floor was covered in the discarded food you both left behind. The spilled soda is now dried and sticky. Crumbs everywhere.

“Here.. let me get a mop and broom-“

“No just sit down, I’ll clean up the shit I made” you lay down on the couch and watched as Adam swept and mopped the mess from the floor. The entire time the silence hung in the air by a thread. Neither of you wanting to be the one to snap the string and speak.

Finally Adam got done cleaning the mess and made his way to the couch. He sat down and gestured for you to come closer. Crawling over to him, he wrapped the blanket around you both allowing you to snuggle into him.

“Do…” your voice barely audible “Do you want to talk about it?”

Adam looked hesitant but nodded.

“You know about everything, right? About… what all happened in Eden?

You nod against his chest content on listening.

“When… When Lilith left me, I thought I didn't care as much as I did. I thought she was a bitch and that was that. And it didn’t help that as soon as she left, I got Eve…”

He paused

“Then, when I found out about that shit between Eve and Lucifer… I didn’t care then either, but I didn’t understand why…” his voice hitched “but when I ate that damn apple… I realized how hurt I should have been. All the concepts of right and wrong, good and evil, learning all of it through that fruit, I realized one shitty truth… that the one I loved betrayed me.”

You hugged him tighter softly, your hands caressed his stomach as some form of comfort before he continued.

“For the same person- Both of them for that snake…”

“Adam… I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

“And that’s why… I’m scared. Scared that I will fuxk up again and get… attached to you. Because every. single. time. He ruins it. And I don't want to see that happen with you.”

Your heart ached for him, the saddening look of his LED mask as he talked only furthered your emotions. Slowly your hands made their way to his face, he looks at you confused, your fingertips crept under the mask before his hand shot up and held your wrist slightly, carefully not holding it too tight.

“Sorry fuck- I’m.. I’m not ready.”

You smile and nod understanding “Adam. I love you… with all of my heart. And I would never do what those two done to you. “

Adam thought for a moment deciding what to say.

“Promise?” was all he could think of, his voice, mind, and body were all too tired to speak more about it.

You slowly remove your hands from his mask, instead taking one of his hands into yours.

“I promise, I would never betray you, let alone talk to that man” ever-so lightly, a soft golden glow burned between yours and Adam’s hands, the gold flame was warm and comforting to both of you as it rose and grew in strength.

From the flame, a string wrapped and warped itself around both yours and Adam’s pinky fingers. The string tightened and loosened as it moved, before finally melting away leaving only two solid gold rings behind, One on Adam’s finger and the other on yours.

“What the hell was that?” Adam’s voice was filled with bewilderment

“A deal- or I guess a promise. In this case”

“Shit, You didn’t have to do that-“ this time it was your turn to interrupt him. You bring Adam’s hand to your lips, and give a kiss on his newly formed ring before lying down and cuddling into Adam.

“I know.”

For once in his life, Adam felt at ease with love. How easy it was to fall for you.

Is this what home feels like?

[aurynsia]

Unrequited, Terrifying Chapter 7

James Potter x Reader

Summary: Your secret admirer finally gets the girl…

Warnings: HARD LAUNCH! Use of flashbacks, extremely fluffy, nervous!james x shy!reader, idiots in love, lovesick!james, no use of Y/N, OC!friends, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, quiet!reader, NOT EDITED!

Word Count: 1.2K

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Platform 9¾ was bursting with energy as the new group of first years clambered onto the Hogwarts Express. James had tucked himself in between Remus, Sirius, and Peter, practically jumping in his seat as he introduced himself to his new friends.

The four boys had excitedly rambled back and forth about their prospects at the exciting school of witchcraft and wizardry, only settling down when the train finally began to move as they waved goodbye to their families through the window.

The door slid open with an awkward creak, alerting the young Marauders to a small girl standing in the doorway. “Hi, um- can I sit here? The other cabins are full…” you spoke softly, twisting your feet in an anxious habit and biting your bottom lip.

James’ breath hitched, innocent eyes growing wide as he took you in. He nervously pushed up his glasses as his friends ushered you inside, moving food wrappers off of a seat to make room for your form.

You introduced yourself with a shy smile, promising not to bother them as you shoved your nose in a book for the rest of the journey.

James couldn’t help but ogle at your soft expressions, reacting to the exciting fantasy unfolding in between the pages of your novel. He gulped as his face grew visibly warmer, pushing up his glasses once more before turning back to his new entourage of mischief makers, already planning what would be their first of many pranks.

The Great Hall swarmed with chaos as students filtered in through gaping doors. The Sorting Hat had played in James’ favour, allowing all of his new friends into the house of brave hearted heroes.

He laughed with his friends as they stumbled to the Gryffindor Table, only distracted once again by the girl with the hat on her head. “Gryffindor!” The hat exclaimed, your eyes thrown wide with surprise as you tediously moved towards the four boys.

James grinned at you as you nodded in his direction, choosing to sit on the far end of the table with two girls who shared that stunned expression. When his attention returned to his three friends, he was met with a round of teasing coos and knowing smirks, causing him to sink down in his chair with a blush painted across his cheeks. The Sorting Hat really had answered all of his prayers.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

You stood tentatively in the crowd of red and gold, etched between Charlie and Hope in the stands as your eyes curiously followed Gryffindor’s seeker.

The Quidditch pitch was filled with adrenaline as Slytherin rocked and tumbled against the force of the lion. James Potter was speeding through the mass of players, a joyful laugh permanently plastered on his face as he wove through the commotion.

Your red sweater was proudly on display in the stands, disguised as your warmest clothing when asked why you were in house colours. You didn’t dare tell your roommates about your newfound support for the team after the introduction of their newest fourth year seeker, but they slowly caught on as your blush began to match your clothing every time the boy flew purposefully close.

His laugh faltered with a gasp when he caught your eye in the stands, glancing at your attire that you failed to cover with your hands. Your eyes met for another brief moment before Gryffindor’s golden boy was soaring once again with newfound vigour.

Your gaze followed his figure in the air, a soft smile evident on your lips. Charlie and Hope leaned forward slightly to pass a knowing smile across your stiff form, only returning their gaze to the field as their house won the match.

The walk back to the common room was quiet, a soft hum of nature surrounding the three of you as you marched along the path. That was until Charlie’s curiosity got the better of her.

“So…Potter looked quite dashing up there, don’t you think, Hope?” She pretended to ponder, gaze to the night sky. “Why, he was really something! That speed made his hair quite an endearing mess, right, love?” Hope turned to you with a teasing smirk, patiently awaiting your flustered answer.

“Uh- yeah! Yeah, he was good, you know, for an egomaniac…” you kept your eyes fixed on the path ahead of you, praying to Merlin that your blush wasn’t visible in the darkness.

“Mhmm…he seemed quite taken by this little number of yours,” Hope gestured up and down your body, “maybe you want to fuel that pretty little ego of his, hmm?” You were surrounded by a chorus of amused chuckles from your friends as your face burned under the interrogation.

“No! Well, maybe…he looked cute in the uniform, that’s all! Nothing to write home about…” You pouted with furrowed brows, kicking a pebble in your path as your friends broke out in teasing cheers.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

The Gryffindor table was filtered with soft morning light as your group eagerly grasped at any food they could get their hands on. James tucked himself securely into your side, a smug grin plastered on his face as you grumbled words of frustration, brows dipped and lips pouting at the lack of opportunity to serve yourself.

Sirius cheerfully loaded food onto his plate before passing the bowl to James, dodging your outstretched hands. Your look of frustration was about to shift to anger before the sweet boy beside you began scraping the leftovers in his grasp onto your empty plate. You turned to him with a grateful smile that he could stare at for hours, squeezing him around his middle in thanks before diving into your meal.

James continued to pile food in front of you, planting kisses across your cheeks between servings and spoonfuls before draping an arm across your shoulders. “Not so grumpy anymore, are you love?” James chuckled, “Maybe a certain boyfriend has lifted your spirits?”

You swallowed your mouthful as you nodded eagerly, looking up at him with wide eyes that melted his heart. “I think I’m finally getting this Gryffindor pride thing,” you mumbled as you reached for another spoonful of food, “Dating the captain of the Quidditch team is certainly an ego boost.”

James grinned at you, brushing his nose against your cheek with a mischievous expression. He was finally beginning to fall into a comforting routine with you, brushing aside any nerves your soft smile might ignite in him.

The others looked at the sweet pair with satisfaction, sharing looks of relief after you announced yourselves as an official couple.

“Merlin, it’s about time!” Sirius exclaimed, hitting the table hard enough to lift plates in the air at contact. The group laughed with amusement as James leant into your warmth, arms enclosed around your torso as he sighed into your skin.

The overbearing dread of unrequited, terrifying love that clouded his logic had melted away with your simple touch. This will be his year. The year he shares with you.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed this little series! While this is the official end to the story, feel free to request some blurbs based on these two characters in my asks! Thank you to everyone who patiently stuck with me while I worked on this, I’m eternally grateful for all your support <3

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Taglist: @1-queenofpotatoes-1 @caspiankingofnarnia @thesuitelifeofafangirl @moonydoodlez @fionnalopez @kawaiiarbitervoid @kc2sstuff @rafeyswrd @mads12043 @spicybearnaise @ch3rry-vine @probabydeadbynow @ilovejamespottersomuch @mqg125 @sofiacblair @valenftcrush @revesephemeres @louweenier @the-lavender-girl @empath-bunny @bmyva1entine

[joemama-2]

a dead end | chap. 1

༺♰༻ gojo x fem reader

𓉸♱𓉸 synopsis: you were a star under stadium lights, gojo satoru a savior in sterile halls. now, the world rots, and survival is your only stage. amid the relentless dead and the horrors of the living, an unsteady bond forms—but trust is as fragile as life itself. in the shadows of ruin, love and death walk hand in hand. which will claim you first?

༺♰༻ wc: 9.6k

༺♰༻ tags/warnings: death, angst, violence, smut, cannibalism, murder, blood, gore, zombie apocalypse, crazy people, reader is a little bitchy at first, character development, torture, guns, weapons, alcohol, drugs, medical talk here and there, research talk, mentions of a leaked sextape, bullying, betrayal, lying, love, surgeon! satoru, cheerleader! reader, small age gap

༺♰༻ series masterlist < next chapter

“And nooooow, everyone put your hands together for our lovely girls in orange and black!” 

The announcer's voice over the stadium causes a roar of applause and shouts to erupt, most of course being male. Stepping onto the cleared out baseball field are a group of lively young women. Wearing small black skirts with black safety shorts underneath, their jerseys that read ‘GIANTS’ in the center in black, patched lettering are tied at the bottom; showing off their midsections. Wearing long, black socks and with the Pom-Poms to finish the job off, their smiles are the brightest thing. 

The girls take their places on the field, their synchronized movements and high-energy smiles lighting up the crowd. Among them is you, standing in the middle of the formation, the natural leader of the group. You glance toward the stands, where a sea of orange and black waves back at you. For a moment, you’re lost in the energy of the game day atmosphere—the cheers, the crack of a bat, the announcer’s voice booming through the stadium.

“After a brief hiatus, we finally have our star back on the field with us. Another round of applause for the beautiful Y/N L/N!!!”

You chuckle to yourself at the heightened tone of cheers that are directed solely to your presence. You give a few waves, seeing the people in the front rows of the stadium excitedly wave back, shouting things you can’t really hear. You can only assume they go along the lines of how much they love you and miss you, and of course, how they wish you would give them a single chance. 

It’s moments like these that make everything worth it. The endless rehearsals, the physical exhaustion, even the occasional jeers from rowdy fans.

The music soon starts, a familiar upbeat track that gets the crowd clapping in rhythm. The routine begins, and you lose yourself in the movements. You all cheerleaders spring into action. Your body responds instinctively—jumps, spins, high kicks—all in perfect unison with your squad. Your Pom-Poms catch the sunlight as they move in perfect unison.

You’re at the center of the formation the entire time. As the group's captain your eyes constantly dart around in quick motion, ensuring that every movement is sharp and precise. A high kick flows seamlessly into a spin, your Pom-Poms arching over your head as you beam at the crowd. Your heart pounds, not from nerves, but from the sheer adrenaline of performing in front of tens of thousands of people.

It's from the fact that you’re finally back out here, shining in the spotlight. Oh, how you missed it so much. 

Yui, on your right, flips her hair dramatically before breaking into the next move, her grin as radiant as ever. “You’re killing it out there, Y/N,” she says during a brief pause in the routine, her voice barely audible over the crowd.

“So are you,” you reply, breathless but smiling.

The routine shifts, the squad breaking into smaller groups for a series of flips and stunts. The girls lift a smaller woman into the air; one of the newer girls on the team. Her petite frame soaring gracefully as she executes a flawless toe touch. However, she lands a little off point, which wouldn’t be noticeable to the crowd, but to you…it is. She stumbles to her right for a second before swiftly regaining her footing once more, getting back into her required position. 

Your smile stays constant on your face, but your eyes and the look you send her tells an entirely different story. Moving behind her, you deliver a nudge to her back that borders the line of a shove. 

Finally, the crowd roars as the squad transitions into its finale. You leap into the air for a perfectly timed toe-touch split jump, the audience’s cheers fueling your energy. As your feet hit the ground, you and your squad strike your final pose, arms extended high, Pom-Poms shimmering in the sunlight.

The announcer’s voice booms again, barely audible over the deafening applause. “Let’s hear it for the Tokyo Yomiuri Giants Cheer Squad!”

You all stay in position for a few seconds for the photos, before finally waving at the large stadium. When you steal a glance at the dugout, where a few of the baseball players are clapping along with the crowd, you notice a particular someone staring longer than necessary. Ren Yamamoto, the team’s star pitcher, gives you a wink from his spot on the bench. Your smile falters for a split second before you quickly look away, focusing on Yui as she nudges you with her elbow.

“He’s been watching you all day,” she says, her voice teasing.

“Focus,” you mutter, but the heat rising to your cheeks betrays you.

The squad retreats off the field, giggling and chatting as the next act takes the stage. The roar of the crowd fades behind you as you make your way to the locker room, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

Some of the team takes this moment to sigh in exhaustion and relief now that it’s over, wiping away remnants of sweat on their foreheads. Setting the Pom-Poms down and touching up their makeup, while others take the liberty for some water and a rest. 

The girl from before exhales quietly to herself, rolling her shoulders in and out. Sipping on her water bottle. 

“Nice job out there, Sayo!” Her teammate congratulates her with a smile and a side hug. “You’re getting better. You’ll be the best in no time!”

Sayo smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of the back with a shy chuckle. “Thank you, I worked really hard…”

Another girl perks up next to Sayo. “I think we can all see that. You’re progressing faster than we all did when we were in your shoes.”

“Maybe,” the first girl leans into Sayo’s ear, whispering. “You’ll even be like Y/N, probably better.”

Sayo’ eyes widen a bit but calm when she notices the two girls laughing. She joins in, feeling at ease for her prior mistake. Looking down at her hands with a soft gaze. “Do you really think s—”

“Giving her false hope, huh? How cruel.”

Sayo and the two girls’ expressions change quickly, whirling around as they come face to face with you. Standing there with a raised eyebrow, a tilted head and crossed arms. Your sight hyper focused on the new girl. “You know, I expected more from you. Do you just have it in your genes to consistently disappoint people around you?”

The two girls who were just praising Sayo step back, muttering small apologies to you. Their quickness to back off reminds Sayo that everyone here is a sneaky bitch, that she can really trust no one. Not when everyone practically cowers under your gaze like a bunch of sheep. 

Sayo stands frozen for a moment, her wide eyes not meeting yours. The silence hangs in the air, thick with the tension you’ve so effortlessly created. You keep your arms crossed, your gaze unyielding, watching the way the two girls seem to shrink back, unsure of whether to speak up or stay quiet. Sayo’s heart races, her breath catching in her throat as you approach them, your eyes narrowing with a cold intensity. She could feel the tension rise in the room, thick enough to cut through. The playful atmosphere from earlier now feels like a distant memory, replaced by something more ominous.

“Y/N, I—” Sayo begins, her voice shaky, but you cut her off with a cold laugh.

“Don’t start with your excuses,” you say, voice smooth and dismissive. “You don’t belong here if you can’t keep your feet straight. This isn’t some playground, Sayo. Didn’t we already practice this a thousand times? And you still can’t do it.” You let out a condescending scoff. 

Sayo’s throat tightens, and the small voice inside her, the one that once told her she could be something great, starts to waver. The praise from the others had felt so nice, and for a moment, she allowed herself to believe it. But now, it seems that belief was fragile. You had shattered it in an instant.

One of the girls behind her mutters a low “Ouch,” but doesn’t dare speak up. They know better than to challenge you.

Sayo nods slowly, not trusting her own voice to speak, and her gaze flickers to the ground. She can’t bring herself to look at you anymore. You always had a way of making her feel small, and now it’s like you’ve stripped away every ounce of confidence she’d managed to build in herself. For the briefest moment, she considers quitting, but then she remembers how badly she wants to prove herself.

“I…I didn’t think it was that big of a deal, I covered it up pretty good, didn’t I?” She asks with hopefulness in her tone, eyes practically pleading with you silently. 

Your jaw clenches in response. “So mistakes are okay as long as you cover them up? How pathetic.” You step closer, pushing her back by her shoulder. She lets out a tiny gasp, stumbling back a few inches. “One bad move on you is a bad one on all of us. Haven’t you understood by now that you represent the team? You represent what I teach you.”

Sayo’s eyes blow wide in shock, her breath catching as your words hit her like a slap. She tries to steady herself, but her legs feel weak, her heart pounding in her chest. She looks down at the floor, trying to escape the intensity of your gaze, but your words keep cutting through her, each one a fresh wound.

“I—I didn’t mean to mess up,” Sayo stammers, her voice trembling with uncertainty. “I was just trying to keep up. I—I thought I could fix it without anyone noticing.” She raises her head, her eyes searching for any sign of mercy, but your face is cold, unwavering.

“Don’t you dare give me that excuse,” you snap, your voice sharp and unforgiving. “No one here cares about how well you cover up your mistakes. What matters is that you did make them. And that’s something you can’t hide from. It’s a reflection of you, and it’s a reflection of the entire squad.”

Sayo bites her lip, her thoughts racing. She feels her hands shaking, the reality of the situation settling in like a weight on her chest. This wasn’t just about one misstep—it was about the pressure of constantly being under your thumb, of never being good enough, of always being measured against your impossible standards.

“You represent me, Sayo,” you continue, your voice now lowering, but still carrying the weight of authority. “You represent us. Every move you make, every breath you take, it’s not just for you anymore. You’ve crossed that line. You chose to be here, and that means you carry the burden of what comes with it.”

The room is silent, the tension suffocating. Even the other girls, who had been watching quietly from the sidelines, now seem to shrink away, their faces uncertain. No one dares to speak, not with you in the room. Not when you’re in this kind of mood.

Sayo feels the sting of your words deep in her gut. She wants to defend herself, to explain that she didn’t mean for it to happen, but the words feel stuck in her throat. Her head swims with doubts, and she wonders if she’ll ever be able to live up to your expectations, or if she’s destined to fail every time.

“Get it together, Sayo,” you murmur, the threat hanging behind your words. “The next time I catch you slipping like that, I won’t be so nice.”

With a final glance at the two girls, who are now avoiding eye contact with you, you turn and walk away. Your shoes click against the hard floor, each step a reminder that in this world, there’s no room for weakness. You’ve clawed your way to the top, and anyone who doesn’t keep up will get left behind.

Sayo watches you walk away, a sick feeling in her stomach. The girls who had once tried to offer her encouragement remain silent now, the weight of your words still heavy in the air. She’s not sure if it’s fear of you, or fear of failure, but she suddenly feels more isolated than she ever has before. And before she knows it, she’s chosen her own fate.  

“W-well...at least my mistakes don’t break apart families.”

That single sentence causes hushed gasps to sound out through the room, you freeze in your tracks. The room falls utterly still, like a vacuum has sucked out all the air, leaving nothing but the crushing weight of silence. Sayo’s breath hitches, and the girls around her instinctively take a few steps back, almost as if trying to distance themselves from what’s about to unfold.

Immediately after, Sayo realizes she said the worst thing known to man. She wishes she could go back in time a few seconds and stop her stupid mouth from opening, from speaking such a cursed sentence. It was like an unwritten, unspoken rule that everyone knew. 

Don’t bring the scandal up. 

Oh, I’m really in for it now, Sayo thinks to herself. Almost audibly whimpering in fear when you turn back around. It’s like your eyes have gotten darker—if that was even possible. But the smile on your face juxtaposes the anger you wave off. In some way, it feels more dangerous than any frown could ever be. 

You turn on your heel with a slow, deliberate motion, taking calculated steps back toward Sayo. Each click of your heels against the floor sounds like a ticking clock, counting down the seconds until she realizes just how badly she’s fucked up.

“Excuse me?” Your voice is calm, too calm, and it sends a shiver down Sayo’s spine.

“I—I—I didn’t…” Her voice is shaky, barely even getting a stable word out. Hands trembling in front of her. Her eyes dart around—a silent plea for help. But nothing, every girl there is looking anywhere but her. The other girls step back even further, all too aware of the volatile atmosphere. No one dares to step in, no one dares to speak. They all know how this ends.

You hum in faux thought. “Your mistake…” you utter, your voice low—almost amused, “is that you have no idea who you’re dealing with.” You take another step closer, forcing Sayo to look up at you. “You think just because you’ve been here for a few months, you know enough to throw a comment like that around?”

Sayo’s face pales. She wants to apologize, to take back the words that slipped from her mouth, but she can’t. She’s paralyzed, caught in the web of her own stupid mistake. And worse, she can feel the heat of your anger radiating off you, and it scares her more than she’s willing to admit. “I—I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it, Y/N, I swea—”

You push her back again, softly laughing. Another push, one more, and another and she’s fallen back on her ass. Head tilting down at her in a way that makes her want to shrivel up and die. “Still clumsy with your feet, aren’t you? We’ll have to do something about that.”

You bend down in front of Sayo, your eyes cold and calculating. The slight tremble in her voice only fuels your frustration, but you can’t afford to show weakness now. You grab her by the collar of her jersey, pulling her up to meet your gaze, your fingers tightening around the fabric with a force that makes her breath hitch.

“Apologizing won’t change anything,” you murmur, the threat in your voice clear. “But since you think you can talk back, let’s see how well you handle a little correction.”

You give her a harsh shove, making her stumble to her feet again. As she regains her balance, you bring her over to the nearby wall. “Since you have issues with stability, we’ll start easy. Squat and hold your arms up.”

Sayo’s heart hammers in her chest as her legs shake under the pressure of your command. She wants to fight back, to argue, but the fear in your eyes and the coldness of your tone make her freeze in place. She can’t seem to find her voice, her mind scrambled by the confrontation. The air between you two is heavy with the tension, suffocating, and she can almost feel the weight of every single moment she’s ever disappointed you. “Now,” you press, your voice sharp, “squat. And hold your arms up like I said.”

Sayo gulps, her breath shaky as she lowers herself into a squat, her muscles trembling with the effort. She raises her arms above her head, trembling beneath the strain. Her body protests with every second, but she doesn’t dare stop. The last thing she wants is to show any more weakness. You watch her with an icy expression, your gaze unwavering. The seconds stretch into an eternity as she holds the position, your eyes never leaving her. The sound of her breathing, soft but desperate, fills the silence.

“Pathetic,” you mutter, your tone dripping with disdain. “Is this really the best you can do? I thought you were supposed to be better than this.”

Sayo bites her lip to hold back the tears, the weight of your words pressing down on her like a boulder. She tries to push through the pain in her legs, but it’s getting harder, the burn intensifying with every passing moment.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” you warn, your voice now sharp with annoyance. “Hold it. You wanted to challenge me, so deal with the consequences. And maybe next time, think before you speak.”

The room feels insanely colder now, the lights above casting a harsh, unforgiving glow on the scene. Sayo wonders if she’ll ever recover from this—if she’ll ever be able to stand in front of you again without feeling like she’s on the edge of a breakdown.

You lean closer to her. “You want to talk about breaking families?” you ask, your voice dangerously quiet. “Let me remind you of something. That scandal you’re so eager to bring up? It’s not a mistake. It’s not a slip-up. It’s the reason you’re standing here, in this locker room, with a team that barely tolerates you. If I were here, I would’ve never accepted someone of your caliber. And yet, you think it’s something you can just toss into conversation? Like it’s some kind of joke?”

She doesn’t respond, barely holding eye contact with you before focusing down at her feet. 

And then, after what feels like way too long, you step back, nodding with a cold satisfaction. “Good enough. For now. But don’t expect me to be so lenient next time.”

Sayo collapses to the floor as soon as you turn away, her body shaking from the effort, the adrenaline, the sheer humiliation of it all. She can still feel the sting of your words like they’re etched into her skin, a constant reminder that one mistake could unravel everything, unravel you. 

You don’t look back as you leave the room, your footsteps echoing in the silence left behind. And as Sayo breathes heavily on the floor, she wonders just how much more she can take before she completely breaks.

As soon as the door closes behind you, you realize just how heavily you’re breathing; just how hard your nails are digging into your palms. Gritting your teeth so hard you can hear your jaw creaking. Your feet carry you to a certain room, opening it and stepping in—despite the surprised shriek. 

“That bitch.” You snarl, plopping down onto the small sofa. 

“Hey! Lock the door!” Yui exclaims, climbing off the man’s lap and doing it herself. She’s topless, the man who she was just on top of has his belt unbuckled. With a look at you, she can tell something just happened while she was in here messing around with the baseball team’s manager. “What happened?” She asks, finding her cropped jersey and putting it back on. 

You lean back on the couch, closing your eyes for a moment to steady yourself, trying to shake off the wave of anger that still lingers in your chest. Exhaling sharply, the frustration bubbling over as you run a hand through your hair.

A frustrated breath falls from your lips, the anger still simmering beneath your skin. "Sayo happened. That little brat thinks she can talk back to me," you mutter, running a hand through your hair. The thought of her words still gnawing at you, twisting in your gut like a thorn.

Yui raises an eyebrow, her gaze flickering to the man in the room who seems to be trying to salvage his dignity, pulling his belt back into place. "You went off on her, huh?" She sits back down on the sofa next to you, her tone light but with an undertone of amusement. "What’d she say?"

You can feel the tightness in your chest, the anger still pulsing through your veins. "She said something stupid about...about me breaking apart families." You glance at her, your eyes narrowing, as if the words themselves are still fresh in your mind. "It was a low blow."

Yui's face changes, a flicker of something like sympathy crossing her features. "Well, that's a dumb thing to say. I guess she doesn’t know the rules." She takes a moment, her eyes flicking to the man for a second. "If she doesn't know when to shut her mouth, she deserves what she gets."

You shake your head, leaning back into the couch. "I’ve put everything into this team, and she—" You cut yourself off, exhaling sharply. "It’s not even just about her anymore. It’s about respect. She doesn't get it."

Yui leans back, her arm stretching over your shoulders to bring you in. "You’re letting her get to you. That’s your problem. You’re too damn invested in making everyone respect you. Maybe it’s time to start thinking about what you actually want, for yourself. Or you’ll burn out, and it’ll be for nothing."

You meet her gaze, a flicker of doubt creeping into your mind. But you push it away, clenching your fists. "I don’t have the luxury of burning out. Not yet." 

The silence that follows is thick, heavy with the weight of everything you’ve said. Yui’s lips curl into a smile, the kind that says she’s not quite convinced by your words but is willing to let you believe them for now.

"Do you need me to handle it?” Tatsuo asks, his gruff voice making your peer at him. 

With a small scowl, you scoff out. “You’ve handled enough, thanks.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault. I introduced you to Ren, sure. But I’m the only one who spent thousands cleaning up after the mess, wasn’t I?”

You stand, arms crossing at the older man. “I don’t care for how much money you spent.”

Tatsuo raises an eyebrow at your sharp tone, clearly unfazed. “Yeah, I can tell,” he mutters, leaning back against the doorframe. “But you care when the mess threatens everything you’ve worked for. Believe me, Y/N, I’m the one who saw this shit from the start. You think Ren’s got your back? He’s too busy screwing around with his own agenda to even notice what’s going on most of the time.”

Your eyes narrow at his insinuation. Tatsuo may not be wrong, but hearing it from him only makes your skin crawl. “Don’t start. I can handle that son of a bitch. I’ve got this under control.” You step toward him, your voice low but firm. “You don’t need to clean up my mess anymore.”

Tatsuo chuckles, shaking his head. “Keep telling yourself that. I’m just saying, you’ve got a lot more to lose than you think. And when it all falls apart, don’t come running to me.”

You freeze for a moment, the burden of his words settling on you like a dark cloud. But you won’t show any weakness. Not here, not now. “I don’t need anyone’s help. I’ll clean it up myself.”

Tatsuo shrugs, turning to leave. “Fine. Just remember, I’m the one who warned you. Don’t say I didn’t have a hand in this.” The door clicks shut behind him, and you’re left in the silence of your own thoughts. 

Your lips thin into a fine line, looking at your best friend. “Remind me why you’re screwing around with that pig? He’s like almost twice your age.”

Yui scoffs, rolling her eyes as she pulls her shirt back down. “Don’t act like you’re the moral authority, Y/N. Besides, you were the one who told me to get close to the manager.” She gestures vaguely, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “What’s the difference between Ren and Tatsuo, huh? At least Tatsuo knows how to get things done. He’s useful.”

“First of all, I didn’t tell you to get close with him. I said why not since he’s not married and you need some fun in your life. And second of all, stop mentioning that dick.”

Yui sighs, coming close to put her hands on your shoulders. “I’m sorry, okay? I won’t bring him up anymore. Did what Sayo say really mess with your head like that?”

You bite your lip, fixating on her eyes. “…of course it did, Yui. I’ve only just come back and now she—she thinks she can say that to me without any consequences. I already faced enough hate from everyone else. And people still think it’s my fault, it’s not. He told me they were divorced, he didn’t have a ring on, he showed me the papers and I—”

Yui interrupts, her hands gripping your shoulders a bit tighter. “Y/N, stop. I know what happened. You’ve told me a hundred times, and I’m not going to sit here and let anyone drag you down over something that wasn’t your fault. You’re not the one who caused the mess, and you certainly don’t owe anyone any explanations. Sayo’s just trying to get under your skin, don’t let her.”

You exhale sharply, trying to steady your breath. The anger still simmers just beneath the surface, but you’re starting to feel the weight of the exhaustion too. The constant pressure of maintaining control, keeping your reputation intact, and now dealing with Sayo’s words... it’s all too much.  “Then why does it feel like everyone’s still blaming me?” you mutter, rubbing a hand across your face. “I can’t escape it. Every time I think I’m past it, someone brings it back up. And it’s always the same thing. ‘Y/N ruined everything.’ I’ve been in more shit than anyone else on the team. It brings me back to when…when I first joined.”

Your voice lowers as you bring up the incident that happened just a year within you being recruited. Yui softens, her expression gentle but firm. “Because people are stupid, and they want someone to blame. That’s how it works. You’re stronger than this. Don’t let their ignorance drag you down. You know the truth, and so do I.”

You nod, but the knot in your stomach remains. Yui’s words help, but they don’t erase the sting of Sayo’s and everyone else’s accusations. It’s hard not to feel like everything’s been building up to this moment where everything you’ve worked for could come crashing down. Still, you’re not one to back down. Not now.

“I know,” you finally say, your voice steady, even if it’s shaky underneath. “I won’t let it break me. But Sayo needs to understand that there are consequences when you cross me.” Your eyes narrow, a flicker of something dark passing through you. “She’s going to regret it.”

Yui raises an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth curling up in a small, knowing smile. “I’d say be careful, but you’ve got this. Just don’t get too carried away, alright?”

You chuckle dryly, the tension momentarily lifting from your shoulders. “Don’t worry, I know how to handle myself.”

With that, the conversation shifts, but the weight of what Sayo had said still lingers in the back of your mind. You’re determined to prove that no one can mess with you and get away with it. The world may want to blame you, but you know the truth, and that’s enough to keep you standing tall.

“See?! See! Right there! That one!”

A sigh in response. “Takuma…”

“She’s so pretty! Do you think I have a shot, Nanami?” 

“Absolutely not.”

Takuma frowns, removing his pointer finger from your figure on the small TV in the break room. The camera had given you specifically a close up. Nanami’s used to the younger man raving about sports and whatnot. And while Nanami sometimes partakes in watching them himself, he’s not a mega fan like the other one. And he especially doesn’t have a favorite cheerleader. 

“You’re so mean, Nanami…” Takuma grumbles, slumping back in his seat with a dramatic huff. 

Nanami rolls his eyes, his annoyance spiking up even more when an intruding voice enters the room. “Nanami? Being rude? Who would’ve thunk.”

“Don’t start, Satoru.”

Gojo chuckles, patting his co-worker on the shoulder as he passes by him to slouch onto the sofa provided. Laying down on it like it is his own, sighing wistfully with a content smile. Takuma jolts back up. “Gojo! Please, tell Nanami I actually have a shot with Y/N L/N!”

“Who?” Satoru casually asks. 

Takuma gasps, gesturing wildly at the TV where the replay of the game is still playing. The camera pans to the cheerleading squad again, and there you are, beaming brightly and waving your pom-poms. “Her! Y/N L/N! The most beautiful woman ever!”

Satoru peeks an eye open, looking over at the screen. For a few seconds, he watches quietly. Finally humming softly and nodding his head briefly. “She’s cute, sure. You got a crush, Ino?” His lip curls up in a teasing grin. Arms rested behind his head. 

Ino blushes furiously, rubbing the back of his neck in a sheepish manner. “I-I mean, yeah. Who doesn’t?”

“Didn’t she homewreck a fam—”

“No.” Ino cuts Nanami off with a sudden firmness, lips down turning into a frown. “She said they were divorced. I believe her.”

Nanami sighs and rubs his forehead, disengaging from the stupid conversation and drinking his tea. Satoru, from his position on the couch huffs, “She’s probably lying to save face, man.”

Ino shakes his head. Sighing heavily and switching the conversation back to the topic at hand. “Look, I think she’s innocent and many other people do. But anyway, that’s not what I asked. Do you think I have a shot with her?”

Satoru squints back at the TV, conceding with a small shrug. “Sure, why not?”

“See?! Even Gojo thinks so!” Takuma declares triumphantly, pointing a finger at Nanami.

Nanami pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath, “I’m surrounded by idiots.”

Gojo smirks, tilting his head back to look at Takuma. “But here’s the thing, kid. Y/N probably gets hit on by a hundred guys a day, especially with that smile of hers. You’re gonna need more than ‘cute resident’ vibes to catch her attention.”

Takuma frowns, his enthusiasm deflating slightly. “What am I supposed to do, then?”

“Well, for starters,” Satoru says, sitting up and giving Takuma a knowing eyebrow raise, “you could try, I don’t know, actually meeting her instead of gawking at her on TV like a lovesick puppy?”

“Easier said than done,” Takuma grumbles.

“Or,” Nanami cuts in, despite not wanting to, with his usual no-nonsense tone, “you could focus on your residency and stop wasting time on unattainable crushes.”

Gojo snickers, reaching over to clap Nanami on the knee. “Ah, Kento, always the voice of doom and gloom. Where’s the fun in that?”

“Anywho,” Satoru starts, looking over at Nanami. “Heard the surgery went well. Some older woman, right?”

Nanami adjusts his glasses and nods, his tone matter-of-fact. “Yes. A cerebral aneurysm. It was delicate, but everything went according to plan.”  

“Of course it did,” Gojo says, stretching lazily on the couch. “If anyone can handle brain stuff, it’s you, Mr. Neurosurgeon Extraordinaire.”  

Nanami rolls his eyes, clearly unamused by the flattery. “It’s called doing my job, Satoru. You should try it sometime.”  

Satoru feigns offense, placing a hand over his chest dramatically. “I do do my job! Saving lives, bringing people back from the brink—it’s what I do best.”  

“Yeah,” Takuma pipes up, eager to chime in. “Dr. Gojo is one of the best trauma surgeons around. Even if he doesn’t act like it half the time.”  

Satoru grins smugly, pointing at Takuma. “See? The kid gets it.”  

“I’m only twenty-eight…”

“Semantics, semantics.”

Nanami shakes his head. “Well, being ‘the best’ doesn’t excuse your constant lack of decorum.”  

“Decorum is boring,” Satoru replies with a shrug. Then, his gaze shifts back to Takuma, his grin turning mischievous. “Speaking of boring, you gonna do anything about that cheerleader crush of yours, or are you just gonna keep mooning over her from afar?”  

Takuma flushes, throwing his hands up defensively. “I’m working up to it, okay? It’s not like I can just walk up to her and say, ‘Hi, I’m a doctor, wanna date me?’”  

“Why not?” Satoru quips. “Worked for me a couple of times.”  

Nanami murmurs under his breath, “God help us all.” 

Satoru rolls his eyes, checking the time of his wristwatch. “I’m hungry, Nanami, are you buying my lunch again?”

Nanami raises an eyebrow, his voice flat. “Why on earth would I buy your lunch again? You already owe me for the last three meals.”  

Satoru sits up, feigning surprise. “Three? That doesn’t sound right. Two, tops.”  

“Three,” Nanami deadpans. “The ramen, the sushi, and that overpriced café you insisted on last week because you had to have their truffle fries.”  

Satoru leans back, giving him an exaggerated pout. “Come on, Nanamin, you know I don’t carry cash. And who can resist truffle fries? You were technically doing me a favor.”  

“It’s always a favor with you,” Nanami grits, pinching the bridge of his nose.  

Takuma chuckles nervously, trying to diffuse the tension. “Uh, maybe I can chip in this time—”  

“No, no,” Satoru cuts him off, waving a hand dismissively. “You’re a resident. Save your pennies, kid.” He turns his attention back to Nanami, his grin widening. “So, what do you say, pal? Treat your favorite coworker to some lunch?”  

Nanami stares at him for a long moment, then sighs heavily. “Fine. But it’s the last time.”  

Satoru claps his hands together triumphantly. “Knew I could count on you, Nanamin! Let’s go. I’m thinking something Italian today. Pizza, pasta, maybe both…”  

Nanami mumbles under his breath as he stands, “I should’ve gone into private practice.”  

In a familiar routine, the three begin making their way down to the first floor where the cafeteria is. The entire time, Ino and Satoru chatter away. All the while Nanami is silently strangling them in his head. As they reach the elevator, Satoru’s voice rings out, a little too loud for Nanami’s taste. “So, you guys see the latest game? That last play was wild. I’m telling you, Ino, the guy has potential for the pros.”

Ino nods enthusiastically, practically bouncing on his heels. “I know, right? It was insane. You think I could pull off those moves? Maybe not on the field, but definitely in the ER.” He chuckles, clearly imagining himself doing something ridiculous on the job.

Nanami’s eyes narrow, his hands slipping into his pockets as he grits his teeth. Every day... I’m stuck with these two.

When the elevator dings, they file in, and Satoru continues to chatter away. “Honestly, Nanami, you need to loosen up. It’s just sports talk. No need to look like you're about to cut someone open with your eyes.” He flashes his signature grin, clearly enjoying the discomfort he’s causing. 

Ino perks up. “Yeah, seriously, you look like you're ready to—” He quiets down with a single look from his senior, awkwardly clearing his throat and looking away; whistling a little tune. 

Nanami clenches his jaw but remains silent. His usual frustration is there, but he’s too tired to engage. He just wants his lunch without these two constantly yammering in his ear. His only hope is to get through the day without strangling anyone in his head.

Satoru, however, seems unfazed by the cold silence that falls between them as the elevator descends. "But seriously, Nanami, you gotta get out more. You never know, you might find someone who actually enjoys sitting through a three-hour sports game with you."  

Nanami replies, "I don't have time for games."

Satoru looks at him with mock concern. "You're missing out, old man. At this rate, you’ll be sitting on a rocking chair before you know it."

Ino snickers, clearly amused at the banter. But he soon stifles it with his arm. Nanami only sighs deeply, already regretting his decision to go to lunch with them.

When the doors finally open, Nanami practically darts toward the cafeteria, hoping for some peace and quiet—or at least some decent food. Satoru and Ino continue their back-and-forth, oblivious to the trail of frustration left in their wake.

Grabbing their own trays of lunch and finding a little table in the back. With Ino ahead, Nanami takes the time to peer at Satoru from the corner of his eye. “So, have you talked to Suguru? Shoko says he’s been talking to her about you too now. Maybe you shou—”

“Who?” Satoru cuts him off, a small—but noticeable tick to his jaw. 

Nanami, ever the perceptive man, looks forward again. Stopping in his tracks. Satoru does the same, glancing over at the other man. Nanami stands there for a moment, considering the situation. He knows he shouldn’t push, but he can’t help himself. He’s seen the way Satoru reacts when certain names come up. Suguru is one of those names. “It’s just…” Nanami slowly trails off, his tone casual but laced with a hint of something unspoken. He watches Satoru closely, noting the tightness around his eyes, the subtle twitch of his fingers gripping the tray.

Satoru’s smile falters, just for a split second, before he masks it with a shrug. “I don’t know any Suguru, Nanami. Not anyone worth mentioning, anyway.” His words are smooth, but the undercurrent of discomfort is there, almost imperceptible. 

Nanami doesn’t respond immediately, but his gaze sharpens. He’s seen Satoru like this before—this mask he wears whenever someone mentions his ex best friend. It’s a name that stings for more reasons than one to Satoru. And he doesn’t want to talk about it, but Nanami knows better than to push further in public, especially with Ino prattling on ahead of them. Still, there’s a gnawing feeling in his gut, and for once, he chooses to let the silence hang between them.

Eventually, he chooses his usual silence, nodding in understanding and resuming his walk. Once they sit, it seems as if any prior emotions have been tossed out the window as Satoru continues his ramble with the resident. 

His mind tells an entire different story. Satoru is great at multitasking, he has to be. He can physically be in one place, but his mind is across the world—in another dimension. 

Stabbing his fork a little too hard, munching just a bit too furiously. It’s been about three years now since he last spoke or saw Suguru. 

Sure, time has passed, but it’s felt dreadfully slow all the while. 

He can remember their last conversation all too well, it invades his mind at times when he feels particularly lonely. The last time they spoke, Suguru had been different, but so had he. They were changed in ways Satoru wasn’t ready to face. The familiar bond they once shared had fractured, leaving Satoru with no answers, an aching void, and a dead sister. 

And he can’t deny the fact that there’s still that miniscule, hidden part of him that blames Suguru for it all. Stop thinking about it, he tells himself. 

Suguru’s final words ring in his head even as he cleans up and heads back to the elevator for his surgery at two. 

“I’ll fix this all, I promise.”

He still scoffs at the reminder. What a pile of shit. It’s quite obvious that the cracks are still there, hidden just beneath the surface, and he knows it’s only a matter of time before they break open.

The sterile white walls of the VitaCore lab hum quietly, the low buzz of machines and the soft clicking of keyboards filling the otherwise empty space. Scientists in crisp white coats move methodically, their eyes focused on their work, unaware of the dangerous precipice they are teetering on. 

At the center of the room, Dr. Akira Saito. Beside him, Suguru Geto. 

The glow of the fluorescent lights above casts a sharp reflection off the polished surfaces, their harshness juxtaposed by the serene, almost clinical atmosphere. On the countertop beside them sits a collection of vials, each containing a liquid that glows faintly—a shimmering promise. CerebraX-12. The very thing that had kept Suguru up through countless sleepless nights, the catalyst of his obsession.

Suguru taps the vial with a gloved finger, his expression a mask of quiet confidence. “It’s working,” he says, as though speaking to himself, but loud enough for the doctor to hear. “Increased neural activity. Clearer cognitive function. This will change everything.”

Suguru’s fingers hover over the vial, his gaze fixed on it with a mix of reverence and guilt. He had been here from the beginning, and now, he never felt more inextricably linked to the project. The drug had started as a way to help those lost, broken, unable to heal—what it had the potential to become… He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t look away.

“If it works…” Dr. Akira starts, but his voice falters. He doesn’t even know what it is anymore.

Suguru glances up at him, his eyes sharp, too focused. “What do you mean?” His tone is clipped, dismissive of any hesitations. “This is progress, Dr. Real progress. You’re seeing it, aren’t you? What’s happening in their brains? They’re improving.”

Dr. Akira Saito shifts uncomfortably, his hands twitching at his sides. The bright fluorescence seems to hum louder now, almost drowning out his thoughts. He looks at the vials again, but his expression is uncertain, as if the sheen of success had somehow dulled in the wake of what he’s witnessed. His voice drops, cautious. “Yes, but there are… side effects. We’ve observed them in the last batch. It’s escalating faster than we anticipated.”

Suguru’s jaw tightens at the words, his fingers tightening around the vial as though it might shatter under the pressure. “Side effects are a natural part of early trials,” he counters, his voice low, almost irritated. “This is revolutionary. Of course, there will be some issues to iron out. But we’re getting closer. You can see that. You know how many lives we can save with this.” 

Dr. Saito looks away, glancing over his shoulder as if expecting someone else to step in, someone to reaffirm his doubts. But no one does. He’s alone with Suguru, alone with the weight of the decision.

“You’re not seeing what I’m seeing,” Dr. Akira murmurs. “The rage. The strength. The changes… They’re not just physical. It’s like they’re losing themselves. Their minds are crumbling under the pressure of the drug. We don’t understand it yet.”

Suguru shakes his head sharply. “You’re too focused on the immediate. We’re talking about long-term potential. Neural regeneration. Reversing damage. Erasing depression. You think this is an issue? This is a breakthrough.” His voice rises, as if to drown out the undercurrent of fear creeping into the room. “Every great discovery has its hiccups. Edison didn’t stop after a few failed bulbs.”

The words hang in the air, thick and heavy. But Dr. Akira doesn’t seem convinced. Instead, his gaze drifts to the monitors in front of them, displaying data he can no longer ignore. The neural scans are clear, but the patterns… they shift unnervingly. Suguru leans over the screen, his eyes narrowing. “It’s working. You’re just too caught up in the symptoms. We can handle that. We will handle that.” His hand moves swiftly, tapping a few commands on the keyboard. He pulls up a graph showing the improvements in cognitive function. The green bars are steadily rising. It’s perfect. Almost too perfect.

But Akira can’t look at it the same way anymore. The numbers might be right, but the faces of the test subjects in the other room—pupils dilated, shaking violently, uncontrollable aggression—linger in his mind like ghosts. He swallows hard. “I don’t know, Suguru. I can’t ignore the risks anymore.”

Suguru stands taller against the older man, his eyes burning with determination. “Then we move forward. We test on more subjects. We refine it, together. The world needs this.”

The tension in the room deepens, thick like a storm on the horizon. Suguru’s voice fills with a quiet intensity as he lowers his gaze to the vials again, almost hypnotized by their glow.

“Think of it, Akira. A world where depression is eradicated. Where no one has to suffer like she did. We can fix this.”

Akira hesitates, his mind torn between the growing sense of doubt and the promise of Suguru’s unwavering conviction. His eyes flicker back to the glowing vials, the temptation pulling at him, but something deep within him whispers that this isn’t the cure he thought it was.

But Suguru is already moving, already deciding. “Prepare the next round of trials,” Suguru commands, the finality in his voice settling like concrete. “We can’t afford to back down now.”

The words are no longer just a command, but a warning. He’s learned from his last mistake not to go against Suguru. Still, the memory from the last time causes his mind to plague with doubt and worry for what could sprout from this. The way the sedatives just barely flamed Subject 14, the utter strength that man had, and a junior scientist almost losing her life. 

He never signed up for this when he decided to help Suguru that one day three years ago. But now, he’s stuck. Completely stuck. 

The night patrol is easy, as some would say. The lab floor is quiet, save for the soft whirring of machinery and the distant flicker of security monitors. Two guards sit at the main security desk, their uniforms slightly wrinkled, their posture relaxed. They’re not scientists, and the weight of the research happening beyond the reinforced doors means little to them.

And in one of the dimly lit holding areas, Subject 37 sits in his reinforced cell, his body slack against the wall. A faint sheen of sweat glistens on his pale skin, his breathing uneven, almost labored. The once-promising patient now looks more like a feral animal: his eyes bloodshot, his muscles twitching involuntarily, and his nails clawing at the concrete floor. The cameras in the corner of the room track his every movement, though tonight, the guards monitoring them are far from vigilant.

Where they sit is also adjacent to the holding cells, their post illuminated by the strong glow of multiple screens. The sound of static fills the air as one guard—Tanaka, a lanky man in his late thirties—scrolls through his phone, his feet propped on the desk. Beside him, the younger guard, Matsuda, barely pays attention, lazily flipping through a magazine.

The repetitiveness of it all is another tier of boring. It makes the guards themselves wish they could trade places with the subjects just for a little more spark in their everyday shifts. 

“This is the easiest gig I’ve ever had,” Tanaka mutters, glancing up briefly at the monitors before returning to his phone. “Just sit here, make sure nobody freaks out too much, and we’re golden.”

Matsuda snickers. “Yeah, because these lab rats are so terrifying.” He leans back in his chair, flipping a page. “You ever wonder what they’re actually testing on them?”

“Don’t care,” Tanaka replies, kicking his feet higher. “As long as the paycheck clears. Besides, it’s some top secret bullshit only they know about.”

“Maybe it’s a secret weapon for an upcoming war.” 

The two chuckle to themselves. On the monitor, Subject 37 suddenly jerks upright, his movements sharp and unnatural. He tilts his head, as though listening to something only he can hear. His breathing grows rapid, erratic. His hands clench into fists, and he begins to bang them against the walls of his cell, the dull thuds growing louder with each strike.

The guards glance up at the sound, faintly audible through the thick walls.

“Looks like 37’s having one of his tantrums again,” Matsuda says with a smirk. “Probably needs another sedative.”

Tanaka yawns, waving a dismissive hand. “Let him tire himself out. The reinforced glass can handle it.”

Subject 37 continues his assault on the cell walls, his fists leaving faint cracks in the reinforced concrete. The sound grows louder, reverberating through the otherwise silent lab floor. On the monitors, his movements become more erratic, his body contorting unnaturally as though something inside him is trying to claw its way out.

Matsuda frowns, lowering his magazine. “He’s really going at it tonight. You sure that glass can hold?”

Tanaka waves him off again, his gaze glued to his phone. “Relax. We’ve seen worse. The glass is four inches, these cells are built for freaks like him.”

But Matsuda’s unease doesn’t fade. His eyes remain fixed on the screen as Subject 37 suddenly stops, his body freezing mid-motion. His head tilts toward the camera, and for the first time, Matsuda feels like the subject is staring directly at him. It’s an unnerving sight—those bloodshot eyes filled with something primal, something unnatural.

“Uh, Tanaka?” Matsuda’s voice trembles slightly. “He’s looking right at us.”

Tanaka glances up, sighing. “So? Creepy stares don’t mean shit. The guy’s fried—probably doesn’t even know where he is.”

Before Matsuda can respond, the lights in the lab flicker for a second, before the entire block plunges into darkness. The sudden shift jolts Matsuda upright. Tanaka sighs and locks his phone, standing up, adjusting his gearbelt around his waist. .

“What the hell was that?” Matsuda asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Probably just a power surge,” Tanaka mutters, though the annoyed edge in his tone betrays his attempt at calmness. He grabs the radio on his belt and presses the button. “Control, this is Lab Security. We just had an outage down here—everything okay on your end? Are the backups now working?”

Static greets him on the other end. He frowns, pressing the button again. “Control, do you copy?”

Still nothing.

“Great,” Tanaka grumbles, setting the radio down. “Looks like the comms are fried too.”

On the monitor, Subject 37 begins moving again. This time, his motions are slow and deliberate, his head tilting side to side as if testing the limits of his body. His breathing grows heavier, audible now even through the thick walls. The cracks in the concrete behind him spread wider with each exhale.

Matsuda swallows hard. “We should call someone. A supervisor or—”

“We’re not calling anyone,” Tanaka snaps, though his eyes remain locked on the screen. “This is probably just another glitch. They’ll chew us out if we overreact.”

But Matsuda doesn’t share his confidence. His gaze darts between the screen and the reinforced door leading to the holding cells. A deep, guttural growl echoes through the lab, sending a chill down his spine.

Tanaka, gritting his teeth and grabbing his flashing along with a taser, heads over to the cell that houses the subject. “Fuckin’ freak.” He huffs, hand reaching out to unlock the cell. 

However, Matsuda stops him before he can do so. “W-what the hell are you doing?”

“Shuttin’ him up for now.”

“Tana—”

“Move,” the younger man is shoved out the way as Tanaka enters the cell with a wave of authority. Clicking the flashlight on, surveying the room. “Alright, freak. Come out, come out wherever you are.”

The cell feels colder than it should. The fluorescent light flickers weakly, casting long shadows across the stark walls. Subject 37 is nowhere to be seen at first glance, the reinforced glass door sliding shut behind Tanaka with an ominous hiss. 

“Real brave, aren’t you?” Tanaka mutters, his voice bouncing off the walls. He adjusts his grip on the flashlight, its beam cutting through the dimness. “C’mon, don’t make this harder than it has to be. We both know how this ends.”

Matsuda stands frozen just outside the cell, heart pounding in his chest, biting his lip anxiously.  The sound of his breathing feels too loud, competing with the quiet hum of machinery and the faint, unsettling growl that seems to be coming from nowhere and everywhere at once. “Tanaka,” Matsuda calls out, his muffled voice cracking slightly. “Don’t be stupid. Just get out of there.”

But Tanaka doesn’t answer. His attention is drawn to the far corner of the cell, where faint scratches mar the pristine walls. He steps closer, his flashlight illuminating deep gouges carved into the concrete. They form no discernible pattern, just chaotic, violent marks that make the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “Cheap walls,” he mutters, though the tremor in his voice betrays his unease. 

Suddenly, the growl grows louder, almost vibrating through the air. Tanaka spins around, flashlight beam whipping across the room. His taser hums to life in his other hand, the crackle of electricity a sharp contrast to the oppressive silence that follows.

“Alright, freak!” Tanaka yells, trying to mask his growing panic. “I’m done playing games.”

A shadow shifts in the corner, just outside the flashlight’s reach. Tanaka squints and whirls around to see better. Leaning forward slightly, and the growl morphs into a low, guttural chuckle. It’s a sound that doesn’t belong in the realm of the living, a sound that makes Matsuda take a step back even behind the door. “Tanaka, get out of there!” Matsuda shouts now, his voice trembling. 

But it’s too late. Subject 37 lunges from the shadows with unnatural speed, his twisted form illuminated for a split second as he crashes into Tanaka. The flashlight clatters to the ground, its beam spinning wildly across the walls, casting brief glimpses of the chaos.

Tanaka screams, a raw, visceral sound as Subject 37’s claw-like hands dig into him. The reinforced glass shakes as Matsuda’s eyes grow wide like saucers. “Tanaka! TANAKA!”

Inside the cell, the flashlight finally comes to a stop, its beam resting on Subject 37’s face. His bloodshot eyes gleam with a horrifying mix of rage and something almost... gleeful. His mouth, stretched into a feral snarl, drips with blood as he turns his gaze toward Matsuda.  

Matsuda gulps harshly, his hands trembling as he fumbles with his walkie-talkie. His breath comes in short, uneven gasps, the faint static of the device the only sound in the suffocating darkness. “Control,” he stammers, his voice barely above a whisper. “This is Matsuda. Emergency in the holding area—Subject 37 has breached containment! Repeat, Subject 37 is loose!”

Nothing but static answers him. His hands tremble more violently as he presses the button again, his voice cracking. “Control, do you copy?!”

The distant sound of something heavy dragging across the floor makes his blood run cold. Matsuda freezes, his eyes darting around the pitch-black lab. The reinforced glass of the cell door is now a dark void, hiding whatever is happening within. A wet, deep crunch echoes from the cell, followed by a sound that Matsuda can only describe as chewing. His stomach churns as bile rises in his throat, his knees threatening to give out. His lip curls, sweat dripping down his cheeks.  

“No, no, no,” he mutters under his breath, backing away from the door. His mind races, the primal instinct to run warring with his fear of what might happen if he turns his back.

Then, the chewing stops.

Silence hangs heavy in the air, broken only by the faint buzz of the broken walkie-talkie. Matsuda’s heart pounds so loudly in his chest he’s sure it will give him away. He takes another step back, his eyes locked on the cell door as if expecting it to burst open at any moment.

A single tap comes from the glass.

Matsuda’s breath hitches. Another tap follows, louder this time, deliberate. His flashlight shakes in his hand as he grabs it— raising it toward the glass, the beam cutting through the darkness to reveal… nothing.

The cell is empty.

“Shit,” he whispers, his voice cracking. He takes another shaky step back, his body screaming at him to run, but his legs feel like lead. He attempts to reach for his pistol. 

But before anything else, the reinforced glass splinters in an explosion of force, shards flying in all directions. Matsuda raises his arms to shield his face, the flashlight clattering to the ground and spinning wildly. “Gah!”

When he lowers his arms, Subject 37 stands before him, blood dripping from his teeth, his eyes glowing faintly in the dim emergency lighting. 

“…pots…t’nac…t’nac I .em pleh.…esaelP,” the creature growls, its voice distorted, guttural, and impossibly human. However, it sounds like there’s the smallest hint of remorse in the subject’s voice. 

There’s a suffocating second of stillness, Matsuda staring at what once Subject 37 in utter horror. Limbs shaking, stumbling back until he falls on his ass.  Matsuda doesn’t think. He stands up in a rush—turns and bolts, his scream echoing through the lab as Subject 37 lunges after him. 

Gunshots are followed by a resounding squishy noise. 

a/n: very introductory ik. next chap is when it gets goooood

taglist: @sukuxna0 @heartsteelkaynconsumer @myahfig4 @kirachuyuu @sypnasis

@ducky1232 @oromanticism @2late4breakfast @beabamboo @boothillglazer

@sleepyyammy @tbzzluvr

[limethefirst]

PART 2 OF VOID RUNNERS PLEASEE😭🙏

Void Runners Pt.2

pairings: Deadpool x Wolverine x teen!reader

warnings: contains heavy spoilers for Deadpool and Wolverine, swearing, crude humor, Deadpool

summary: After escaping Cassandra's lair you find yourself tagging along with Deadpool and Wolverine in hopes of saving their universe as well as getting out of the void

Part 1 / Part 3

a/n: Ask and you shall receive! This is a continuation of Void Runners since people seemed to really enjoy it! I hope it lives up to what you guys were expecting, I was thinking of ways to involve the reader a bit more! Request are open

You had no idea what was happening. One moment you were watching as Cassandra was about to let the giant monster known as Alioth eat you, the next you were being squished by Deadpool on some type of rocket soaring through the sky escaping the close clutches of death itself.

There wasn't much time to process anything because you were already about to crash, and were flung straight into the hard, dusty ground you've come to know as the Void.

A groan escaped you lips as you sat up, looking towards your new companion's, Deadpool and Wolverine; noticing how Deadpool was on top of him, your brows raised a bit.

"What cha' thinking 'bout?" Deadpool asked him, his voice laced with an innocent tone.

Logan wasn't fond of this at all, "Get the fuck off of me," he said, almost growling at the man.

"Shh shh, almost done"

"Almost done what?!" he look up at Deadpool, concerned about what he meant by that.

Deadpool now changed his tone to a more annoyed one, "Getting my knife out of your buttock, you pervert! Get your bind out of my pants!" Both men were now getting up, "I'm telling Blake!"

Deadpool looked over to you and grabbed your arm pulling you up next to him. Then he gave you a silly thumbs up, which you didn't understand why but just gave him a smile in return as a thank you for the gesture.

"New rule!" Logan began again, "I talk now" this time he looked at you as well.

"I haven't even said anything?!" You looked at him confused. Throwing your arms up a bit, and looking at Deadpool as well.

"Hush little one, Papa is talking right now" Deadpool looked over to you, holding up one finger to signal you to be quiet as he talked to Logan. You threw your arms up again now looking at Logan as he groaned at whatever was going on, obviously exhausted.

"Shut the fuck up!" Logan had now turned around, "Let me fucking think, we gotta get back to paradox right? Right?"

"Am I allowed to speak now?" Deadpool asked him sarcastically, you could tell he was smiling.

"Just nod asshole" Logan was fed up at this point.

Deadpool gave in and gave Logan a slight up and down, letting his buddy say what he needed to. Logan then looked at you as if something in his brain clicked.

"Johnny said something about others before you got him killed!"

"Poor kid? He was like fifty!" Deadpool shoots back, insulted by the comment.

Logan looked back at you, "You've been here longer then any of us have, do you know where we can find these guys?"

You hesitated before speaking to him, "I have an idea," you said, Logan looked back at Deadpool and nodded.

"You're gonna help us find them and get us out of here," Logan told you. He wasn't willing to listen to any protest, but you didn't care to argue, this was your chance at escape and by God you were gonna take it.

"Alright, I'll do my best then." You nodded at him, jumping on the bandwagon of opportunity.

"Oh I knew it was a good idea to bring you along sugar sprinkles!" Deadpool said as he patted your back, which honestly felt more like a hard slap, that lightly pushed you forward.

"You better fix my shit like you fucking promised," Logan pointed his finger at Deadpool's chest as you stepped to the side, look straight ahead noticing something in the distance.

"I smell a quest!"

"I smell food,"

This caused both men to look at what you were looking at.

A little restaurant not to far from here.

Logan was turning the place upside, you were unsure what he was looking for as he'd already found you guys some unopened spam to eat.

Deadpool finally had his mask off and you noticed what he looked like without it, you couldn't help but feel bad for him, even with the way he is, something tragic must have happened for his face to be all scarred the way it was.

"So what made you finally wear an honest to God costume?" He asked in between bites, "Mines red so they can't see me bleed." This time he turned to you and gave you a strange smile as he took yet another bite. "I can see how yellow can be useful too!"

Logan turned around and stared him down, "Have you been checked for ADHD?"

"Nu uh," Deadpool answered, mouth full with a big smile.

"You should," This time you answered as you finally tried the spam, it wasn't too bad for God knows how old it could've been.

You could hear a chuckle come from Logan as he continued his search.

"Though I've had several STD's, probably caused by ADHD" Deadpool told you guys.

You just rolled your eyes at him, wondering where he gets these ideas from. You guys both sat there longer watching Logan. Deadpool sat on one side of the booth, you sat on the edge of the table a bit, and Logan was still searching.

"What are you even looking for?" You asked the bigger man, curious what was making him more frustrated then the red masked fellow next to you.

All you heard was a mumble before you saw him grab a bottle of rubbing alcohol.

"No no no no no, that's rubbing alcohol, you don't want to-" Before he could even finish his sentence Logan had already chugged most of it down, you turned a bit to him and sat yourself next to Deadpool watching Logan come towards the table, "Oh yup there you go, there you go, fuck that liver."

"Don't come to me when you need a liver transplant," Deadpool gave an amused snuff at your comment and turned back to the big fellow.

"What the fuck are those?" Logan was looking at, staples in Deadpool's head? You turned to look at it and you stared a little too hard that you could see the little strands of most likely fake hair pinched in between it.

"Oh, back in civilian life I wore a toupee, but nobody knows," Deadpool gave a little smile as he looked at you guys, touching his phantom hair.

Both you and Logan began to laugh a little at this, "They fucking know" you told him.

Logan joined in on the teasing, "Everybody knows," Logan gave you a smile, being glad someone else is there to help him tease the annoying red suited vigilante.

"Wanna talk about what's haunting you, or are we gonna wait for a third act flashback?"

"Ughh go fuck yourself," this was all it took for Logan to go back to the bar stools as he sat there, drinking his rubbing alcohol.

You gave Deadpool and annoyed look at elbowed him a bit, trying to get him to lay off the man a bit; it seemed to get through to him, as he rolled his eyes and began to talk again, "In my world, you're uh, well regarded."

"Not in mine," Logan didn't look back, he just took another sip.

"Well they don't like me much in my world," Deadpool said trying to lighten the mood.

"We couldn't tell.." You told him, as you stood up and threw away your empty spam cup.

"I wanted to be something, you know? Shit, I wanted to be an Avenger!"

"Fuck the Avengers,"

"I didn't make the cut though, same with the X-men," Deadpool paused, picking his next words wisely. "My girlfriend left me,"

"You had a girlfriend?" Logan asked, with genuine curiosity.

"Yea, Vanessa, when we met she was a dancer, made a whole life, it was good, but oh boy I just, uh"

You stood by the trash, leaning against the wall, not wanting to intrude on their moment.

"But fuck, you were an X-men, fuck that you were the X-man. You, uh the Wolverine, you were a hero in my world."

"Yea well, he ain't shit in mine." Logan finished his drink, if that's what you could even call it.

Deadpool turned to you, as if asking you to say something too. You let out a bit of a sigh before speaking.

"You saved me in my world."

Logan turned his head a little bit, and Deadpool gave you a somber look, unlike his normal self.

"I was in an accident, but I saw this man with metal claws, he helped me, he got me out." You closed your eyes and breathed.

"It inspired me to become who I am today, every Wolverine, is a hero in every universe, no matter what." You looked up at the both of them, "Well it's what I think at least. I didn't recognize you at first, but when I heard your name, I knew who you were, even if you aren't from my universe."

Logan looked back down at his empty hands, he began to think. The silence was killing you. Deadpool could tell and so he went back to his normal demeanor. "Alright sugar tits," Deadpool looks at Logan, "Time to go!"

It was time to continue your adventure in finding the people who would help you escape this place.

[xxcallmemaryxx]

You finally met your sweet creature. He’s a big shy ball of nerves. But he’s a sweetheart. What you don’t know is you just told a vampire to stop by any time he wants, and he fully intends on taking you up on that.

Vampire Vessel x GN reader.

For the full experience (or a little refresher)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

(I make some little callbacks to earlier vamp vessel fics, just incase you’re a bit confused reading this one for the first time.)

Under the cut ~ <3

It’s been a week. Vessel couldn’t bring himself to come back and see you. The embarrassment of what he did eating at his bones every second since it happened. He keeps replaying it over and over again in his head. Moping about the manor wishing he could bury himself.

ii was sick of his shit, to put it bluntly.

At this point, he’s resorted to means he never thought he’d turn to. Locking Vessel out of the manor being something even he finds himself at a bit of a loss over.

“This is ridiculous, ii.”

Vessel argues through the door. Standing there awkwardly like he’s on time out. In a way, he kind of is, even if it’s a bit backwards.

“You may come back in only when you’ve snapped out of it, or until the sun has begun to rise. Until then, do not return.”

And with that ii vanishes. Leaving Vessel on his own doorstep. He blinks at the manors front door. Feeling foolish, he kicks a rock and flips ii off. A bit childish, he will admit. But ultimately he can’t find it in himself to care.

He turns to gaze out at the openness of the woods and mountains he calls his home, his safety. Yet all that space and there’s only one place he can think to go. It’s muscle memory at this point.

ii watches him, high above through his bedroom window. Glad he chose not to sit on the doorstep and sulk all night. He can only hope Vessel returns feeling better. Vampires. Such moody creatures.

…

He almost didn’t expect to find you still here. Despite ii swearing you seemed completely unfazed, Vessel didn’t believe it. He knows ii doesn’t care for you, not like he does. He was positive iis words were just a ploy to trick him out of bed. He supposes he should cut ii a bit of slack, he wasn’t lying after all.

He settles into his branch, a branch that’s beginning to feel like his home away from home. He sets his sights on you, his beloved human. It feels like centuries have passed since he saw you last. He can’t believe he went so long without returning to you. You’re washing dishes and cleaning up from the day. Such mundane tasks, he wishes he could bring you to the manor. You’d never have to lift a finger again. He knows iii and iv would wait on you just as he would. ii, well he’d take some time to warm up to you… but you’d be the safest most spoiled human on the planet inside that manor.

He thinks long and hard about iis words. Not to return until he’s snapped out of it. ii didn’t specify how exactly to achieve that. Still feeling a bit peeved off with ii, Vessel is easily swayed into being slightly spiteful.

He doesn’t think twice as he jumps from his branch, landing properly this time, and marching up to your door with such gusto. It’s only then as he stands there looking at your front door does he falter. Movement beside him catches his eye and he whips around to face whatever danger is there to end him. When he’s not met with a hunter, the authorities, or any kind of danger, but instead met with a dreamcatcher swaying slightly in the breeze, his shoulders drop.

It’s his dreamcatcher.

The one he left on your door so long ago.

He forgot he made it. He can’t believe you kept it. His dead heart soars. He swears he felt it beat. One faint thump deep in his chest. A smile breaks out on his lips and the tips of his fangs poke into his bottom lip.

This is what is called a moment of weakness. A moment of complete foolishness. Because Vessel is not paying attention to his surroundings. He’s so caught up in his own world, picturing you finding the gift and then choosing to hang it up, that he fails to hear you approaching your own front door. The one he’s standing on the other side of.

He’s violently ripped from his own head when you swing your door open to put the rubbish out, only to collide with his solid body instead.

The scream he rips from you echos through the trees and you stumble back into your house like a fool. Vessel is a complete statue where he stands. Staring down at you realising what he’s done. He can’t even ask you if you’re okay. The only things on his mind is that he actually finally touched you, and that ii is going to fucking kill him.

You right yourself, dropping the rubbish bag next to you as you gear up to give this person a piece of your mind. But he sees the shift in your demeanor. You recognise him immediately. Because of course you do.

“It’s you.”

He stands there like an idiot. His hands are trembling, he can’t feel his legs, he can’t remember how to speak. He hasn’t blinked once since you opened the door and he’s sure if he could he’d empty his stomach on your feet right now. He wishes he could die. But then he remembers he is dead and all that does is remind him of everything bad about his life ever.

“Uh… your bag…”

Is all he can force out. He mentally face palms. His voice shakes and he points down to it like a donkey. You don’t even look down at it. Your eyes are glued to him and that just makes him feel even stupider. He’s never returning to the manor. He’s never returning to see you. He thought falling out of a tree was bad. He wishes he could go back to that night. That moment. What on earth was he thinking standing on your doorstep. He’s completely humiliated. What the fuck is wrong with him.

“I- I’m sorry-“

He forces his brain to shut the fuck up for one minute so he can right this mess.

“I owe you an apology…”

He forces out, he’s never spoken like this before. He barely recognises his own voice. So quiet and unsure. He’s an embarrassment to his kind.

“I believe I gave you quite the fright a few nights ago. Please forgive me.”

And his apology is honest. It’s genuine. It’s real. He really needs you to know he’s sorry. But he knows he looks like an utter fool right now. Twisting his hands nervously and speaking like he has a mouth full of cotton. He wouldn’t be surprised if you laughed him off your doorstep and sent the town after him just for his stupidity alone.

“You fell from the tree… are you alright? That must have hurt.”

Your eyes make their way down the length of him. He’d be a filthy liar if he said he didn’t like it. He likes it a lot despite how much it terrifies him. He watches you take him in and give him a solid once over. Concern and worry in your beautiful eyes. Worry for him. He can’t breathe.

“I am just fine. I was shaken, if anything. I would like to explain… if I may.”

He offers you nervously. His voice thick as he speaks. He doesn’t think it’s quite sunk in yet that he’s actually speaking with you. That this isn’t a fantasy. That this is real. You’re looking at him and listening to him and he’s conversing with you.

“Oh, yes please. I’ve been trying to figure out what the hell happened all week. I thought I dreamed it.”

You say to him with a sigh, a slight smile on your face as your eyes meet his again. He is dizzy. His arms feel like lead and he is positive his eyes are about to bug out of his head.

“So uh, you see this home has been vacant for quite some time. A long while before you moved here, I put a trail cam up in that tree. I rather enjoy watching the wildlife. I was simply retrieving it that night, I seemed to have misjudged my footing. I sincerely apologise.”

These words come easier to him. He’d spent hours coming up with a reasonable excuse, incase he ever had to explain what happened. He’d rehearsed it over and over again. Despite this, he seriously doubted he’d ever actually tell the lie. Yet here he is. Tweaking out of his mind over it. The irony of the lie is not lost on him either, given that those monstrous technologies are ones he avoids like the plague. He bites his tongue as he anticipates his demise.

“Ohhh… yeah I’ve seen them around the woods. I didn’t realise they were yours. Look, it’s no problem. But next time, just let me know. I wouldn’t have minded a knock on my door.”

You flash a beautiful smile at him, shrugging like it’s nothing. Your immediate acceptance of his lie shocks him. He almost wants to tell you off for it. For believing strange men when they tell you things. For not asking questions. For not picking his words apart. He blinks at you. And he has to get his thoughts back on track before he can answer you.

“Yes… of course. You have my word.”

He says sincerely. Placing a palm to his chest like this promise is the most important he’s ever made.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t catch your name. I haven’t seen you around here before.”

Vessel watches in slow motion as you stick your hand out to shake his. His world stops. He realises briefly that you have quite the tendency to do that to him. He looks down at your hand like it could set him on fire. He doesn’t want to leave you hanging. So reluctantly, he reaches forward and grabs your hand gently in his. He brings it up to his lips and places the briefest of kisses on your knuckles. He catches the way your smile falters. He knows, deep in his soul, that it’s because of how cold his skin is. His eyes stay locked on yours as he does so, and even then as he slowly drops your hand. He swallows thickly, his nerves hitting him hard as he forces a wobbly smile at you. Careful not to let his fangs poke through his lips.

“I do not live nearby, no. I live…”

He hesitates. Is he really about to tell you this?

“… I live deeper in the woods. Private property, you see.”

Another lie.

He hates it. He wants to kick himself stupid for lying to you. He feels like he’s betraying you. He swore to himself he’d never lie to you.

“You may call me Vessel. It is of my utmost pleasure to meet you.”

He finishes off by saying softly, bowing his head as he does so.

“Vessel… you enjoy the seclusion too?”

You ask him casually after testing his name on your lips. He almost curses you. Foolish human. Using his name so sweetly. Speaking it so eloquently. Decisions like that get you eaten. He swallows thickly. He has to hold his breath so to not breathe you in too deeply.

“We do, yes. The towns aren’t exactly appealing.”

He answers softly, feeling good about his answer through his awful distraction before-

“We? You live with others?”

There it is. The slip up. He pales. Somehow it’s possible. He blinks down at you like you just insulted him.

“Uh. Yes. I do. Friends turned family. Much like myself.”

He forces out. Not even sure how to describe what the guys are to him. All he knows is he loves them with his whole heart. And now a human knows of their existence. How is he ever going to get out of this one. He’s feeling that bubbling of self hatred brewing deep in his bones again.

“Well, Vessel. It was lovely to meet you. But I don’t want to keep you if you’ve got a trek back home. Don’t be stranger.”

You say to him with a heart stopping smile. You bend over to pick up the long forgotten rubbish bag, and step outside with him to toss it in the bigger bin. He nods a little awkwardly as he watches you make your way back to your door, he steps off your door step slowly. Unsure if he’s grateful or devastated the interaction is over.

“I’ll-… I’ll keep my eye out around here from now on, just incase…”

He trails off, unsure if he said the right thing or if that came out wrong. But when you give him yet another smile, he believes every choice he’s ever made his whole existence that led him to this point, was the right one.

“That would be greatly appreciated, Vessel. Thank you. Don’t be shy, stop in whenever you like. Get home safe.”

And with that you close your door. Leaving him there staring at it with the biggest grin he’s ever sported. Fangs on full display. Eyes wide and full of wonder.

He realises too late that he’s crying. Why? He has no idea. But he’s so happy. He did it. He spoke to you. You spoke to him. You looked at him, you smiled at him, you touched him. He touched you. He KISSED you. He almost collapses. He has to leave. He has to leave before he makes a fool of himself again but he can’t will himself away from where he stands.

You told him to come back any time.

He has got to go and tell ii.

.

.

.

I was really anticipating this one, I’m happy with it. I hope you are too. Thank you so much for reading!! So much love for you.

<3 <3

[imthebadguyyy]

Silverstone

pairing : lewis hamilton x reader

fandom : formula 1

synopsis : you celebrate lewis' win, and show him just how proud of him you are.

warnings : smut and references to 2021

a/n : CANT STOP CRYING BECAUSE LEWIS JUST WON SILVERSTONE SO HERE'S SOME FLUFFY GOODNESS with a side of smut 🙈

the sun shone brightly overhead as lewis soared past the chequered flag, and you screamed and jumped up and down in the mercedes garage.

the roar of the crowd was deafening in the best way possible, screams, shouts whoops and laughter filling the air as he soared by, fist pumped in victory as he let out a whoop himself. you couldn't help but sob into your hands as he waved the flag around in sheer joy, tears streaming down your face, watery laughs and cheers leaving your lips as you stuck to his dad, both of you feeling the same exhilaration that you were sure lewis was feeling too.

bono grabbed you blindly, running with you to parc ferme so you could both be there when lewis stepped out of his car. you couldn't help but sob harder as you saw him wipe away tears, shaking his head as the intensity of emotions sink into him.

you watched with a full heart and shaking hands as he walked to his dad, leaning into him as he allowed himself to cry, to really feel the depth of the moment. you cried, hands shaking against your mouth as you watched him, grinning widely as he turned to you, grabbing your waist as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, wet tears soaking your skin as you held him tight, arms wound around his neck as you squeezed him tight, a melody of "im so proud of you my love" poured into his ears from your sweet voice.

"im so so proud of you, you did so well baby!" you cried pulling away from the embrace to kiss his forehead, laughing as he scooped you up to spin you around. tears streamed freely down his face as he set you down, stroking your cheekbone, breathing harshly as he gripped you tight.

he pulled you back to him, bodies pressed against each other, not caring about the flashing cameras, saying loudly, "i love you!", before dipping you down to kiss you, hands gripping your hips.

his lips met yours in a fiercely passionate kiss, stained with tears of devotion and the three of hope you had both invested into him, into his pursuit of a win, and now he had finally done it with you by his side, at his home race.

it was a kiss that spoke of triumph and longing, of battles fought and won. your embrace was tight, your bodies pressed close as if trying to merge your shared exhilaration. the world around you blurred, and all that existed was the sheer happiness you felt at that very moment.

you gripped his wrist as he pulled away, getting ready to head to the podium, pressing a fleeting kiss to his pulse points as he mouthed "I love you" at you, walking away to prepare to take his rightful place on the podium.

you stood with anthony as you both looked up at your champion, a smile so wide your cheeks were starting to hurt. you cheered loudly, clapping and jumping when he was presented with the trophy, raising it up to the air and pointing to his team and bono, and then to you and his dad, a wide smile and teary eyes looking down at you.

anthony filmed you with a wide grin, before wrapping and arm around your shoulders as the anthem played and lewis' eyes filled with tears. "thats how much it means to him,huh?" you murmured, as you sniffled.

on your other side, susie wrapped you in a hug, nodding against you as you sunk into her embrace. "thats what it means" she said, her own voice breaking as she looked at you, melting at the devotion and adoration in your eyes as you looked up at lewis.

when the champagne was popped, lewis ran over to the edge, tipping some bubbly in your direction as you laughed, giggling as he blew you a kiss and you blew one back.

as the ceremony came to an end, you made your way back to the hospitality, shaking champagne out of your hair as members from the team came up to hug you. the atmosphere was joyous as the crowd sang and celebrated, and you took out your phone to capture the incredible atmosphere. carmen came over to congratulate you, giving you a tight hug before going to find george.

you went to sit down, still feeling from the emotional high as you took a big gulp of cold water. you knew how hard lewis had worked for this, all the highs and lows he had experienced on this long path. you knew of all the long nights he spent at the factory and in the sim, all the hard days and the bad days, all the nights he had come to you, weary and longing for your warmth.

all the moments he felt like he wasn't worth the trouble, and you reminded him fiercely of your love and how it didn't depend on his ability to race. all the nights you felt the despair he felt, tears and hugs keeping you from falling apart as he told you he felt he shouldn't stay on.

the desperate heartbreak you had felt in 2021 when he looked so defeated your own knees almost buckled, all the love it had taken to bring your lewis back to you.

it was all worth it in the moment. it was all worth it. it was all worth it. it was all worth it-

the recurring chain of thought was cut off by a warm pair of arms wrapping around your shoulders, and the smell of champagne filling your nostrils.

"lewis" you breathed, as he gently tugged you with him to his driver's room.

"im so proud of you, honey" you whispered, letting him sink into the couch, as you sat down in his lap, legs on either side of his waist as you pressed kisses to his nose and his cheeks and his forehead and temples, and finally his lips.

"thank you" he whispered back, head resting on your collarbone as he took deep breaths, steadying his racing heartbeat.

you could feel fresh tears soaking your skin as he clung to you, and you stroked his head gently, letting him take his time.

as he pulled back slightly, you saw the tears welling in his eyes. "it was all worth it," he said, his voice choked with emotion. "every challenge, every setback, every victory—it was all worth it."

"formula one is a part of my blood," he continued, his voice steadying as he spoke. "i understand that now more than ever. this sport, this life—it's who I am."

he paused, his eyes searching yours, filled with gratitude and love. "i wouldn't have made it here without you. you've been with me through it all, through the highs and the lows. i can't thank you enough for staying by my side." he continued stroking your chin as you smiled at him.

tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out to touch his cheek, your heart swelling with pride and love for the man who had just made history. "im so proud of you, lewis," you whispered, your voice filled with emotion. "and I'll always be here, no matter what." you promised, pressing a kiss to his hand.

soon enough, your little bubble was broken when the door opened and his family filed in, his mum reaching for you to give you a tight hug and soon all of you and his entire family were heading for an early light dinner before what was a 100% going to be a wild night of partying.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

after an early dinner of pizza with his family, you had just about time for a quick shower and a change of clothes, feeling a giddy happiness you had sorely missed throbbing through your bones as you watched lewis step in for his own shower.

lando had sent a text to lewis, saying "club to get absolutely hammered (non alcoholically for you) on me" and you had laughed and made your way to your hotel to get dressed.

you changed into a particularly rivetingly sexy little dress you had bought especially for a moment like this, a body hugging little number that hugged every curve and fold on your body with straps all over. you paired it with your favourite perfume, painting your lips a dark cherry red, a colour you knew lewis loved on you. you added seductive black eyeliner and mascara, a rosy blush and a glittery highlight, and darkened your eyes with kajal. you looked every bit the temptress you felt and you knew you would be having the time of your life with lewis later in the night.

lewis got ready himself, dressing himself in a black tank and dark pants, pairing it with his favourite bracelets and necklaces to glitter softly. he looked ethereal himself, every bit a charming champion and you couldn't help the flutter of arousal you felt in your chest.

you smirked to yourself as lewis leaned against the cupboard, watching you spritz yourself with perfume, before stalking over to you to bite into the flesh of your neck.

the sudden contact had you gasping and shuddering as you tilted your head back, letting him suck on the skin till it bruised. he pulled away with a satisfied grin, before pulling you to your feet and sinking down on his knees.

you shuddered as he gently raised your foot, kissing you ankle before sliding your strappy heels onto your foot, kissing your shin and calves before moving to the other.

the act of sheer devotion had you melting even more for him, and you could feel yourself getting wet for the gorgeous hunk of a man before you. you shrieked when he suddenly kissed your thighs and licked up them, yanking your lacy panties to the side to lick a stripe into your pussy, making you moan loudly before he pulled away, smirking.

"later, baby" he promised, walking out the door, leaving you a panting mess.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

the famous nightclub the guys had chosen pulsed with powerful beats as a sea of bodies moved in perfect harmony to the sultry rhythms on the dance floor, illuminated by vibrant electric blue and crimson lights. the atmosphere buzzed with an intoxicating blend of pounding music, exuberant laughter, and the mingling aromas of premium tequila, fruity cocktails, rich whiskeys, and hoppy beers. you cheered in excitement as the dj began to play usher, as you shouted over the noise, "I'm going to order some shots!" before weaving your way through the crowd to the bustling bar.

lewis watched you walk away, going to find charles and lando in the crowd, who were mingling with other friends.

he watched you lean over the bar, your breasts pushing against the material of your dress, bent at the waist as you ordered a Washington apple shot, giggling with lily, alex's girlfriend as you clinked a glass with her.

he felt his mouth go dry when you licked the apple slice in the shot, sucking it dry before downing the shot in one go, neck tilting back, all exposed for him. he licked his lips, feeling the groin region of his pants become uncomfortably tight. he made his way over to you, the thumping beat of usher's 'yeah' filling his eardrums.

thick arms wrapped around your waist, and the bristle of a familiar beard warmed your neck as lewis wrapped himself around you, pressing soft kisses to your skin as you giggled and swayed against him. earned it by the weeknd began to play in the background and your smirked.

you let your head droop onto his shoulder, walking backwards with him onto the dance floor, hands wrapped around his own thick arms as you softly ground your hips into him, wining your ass against his gardening cock.

you sang the words, letting your hands slide down to his chest to feel the hard outline of his pecs, eyes narrowed sultrily as you swayed against him. his eyes were a jet black as he took in your movements, one hand sliding down to grip your hips and squeeze.

"I need you to take me back to the hotel, lew" you moaned, as he ground up into you. your words had him growling softly, dragging you out of the club to his car, ignoring the hoots and hollers from the younger drivers.

the car ride back was charged and electric as you made our hungrily, teeth and tongues clashing as you both moaned lewdly enough for the driver to hear.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

in the hotel, you could hardly wait till you reached your room, and almost immediately, clothes were tossed in all corners of the room, and you were sinking to you knees on the soft carpet as lewis sank into the bed

"you did so well today baby, fighting to the win? getting what you really deserve?that's some pretty badass driving, and it was really fucking sexy to watch as well" you mumbled against his lips, feeling him smirk against yours as you did."you did so well, i think you deserve a reward. after everything you've fought through, you came out on top like the champion you are" you continued, walking backwards onto the bed, reaching up to caress his collarbone, leaning down to suck on the skin of his neck, gently running your hands down to his underwear, tracing his waist, gently squeezing the hardened muscle, fingers tracing his abs feeling him harden against you.

you pulled your hair into a ponytail, hands gently trailing down his stomach, feeling the goosebumps break out on his body, watching as you sunk down to your knees again, crawling forward, swaying your ass seductively behind you, and you felt his cock get visibly harder.

"you deserve to fuck my mouth. my winner" you whispered softly,running your hands up his thighs, feeling his muscles clench as you did. nodding his approval to you, he cleared his throat, hand gently squeezing your shoulder.

lewis watched you lick your lips as you unbuttoned and unzipped, pulling down his pants and boxers until his hard dick bounced free, almost smacking against you. you looked up at him as you wet your lips.

"im going to give you the sloppiest blowjob ever" you grinned, glancing up at him before kissing his tip. "all for my 104 time race winner" you continued.

he smiled as he watched you grin, before opening your mouth wide and taking his cock on your waiting tongue. you licked and sucked on just the tip as you teased his balls and drew circles into his calf.

lewis knew he would have the time of his life. his one (of many about you) weakness was the feel of your mouth on his dick, and he bit back a gulp as he saw the lust in your eyes. eyes as you eased him deeper, inch by inch.

"fuck," he whispered softly, watching you start sucking, laving your tongue against him. his chest heaved as he groaned quietly, letting you ease your lips back to the tip before taking him again. he watched the way your cheek bulged with a twinge of pride.

he hit the back of your throat, feeling the sensation through his entire body, and he reached for the back of your head with both his big hands, holding you in place while you sucked on him.

you sucked and licked him with your mouth, the friction a delicious heat as you went faster with each stroke.

you moaned around him and lewis jerked himself deep inside until he was hitting the back of your throat again, making you choke a little.

"you're my everything" he grunted as you grabbed his hips with both hands and bobbrf your head, taking a little more of him with each stroke. the wet, lewd sounds as you hollowed your cheeks and took him had him bucking into your mouth

lewis ground his hips into you, hand pushing you onto his dick. you moaned and gagged s as you sucked on him

lewis felt the rising torrent in his body as he threw his head back.  he watched you open your mouth wide and take him inside, licking the underside of his cock and drooling all over his length.

the motion was enough to make him burst into your mouth, making you gasp as his cum filled your mouth. your mouth didn't relent, sucking harder as he cried out, cumming more as you swallowed all of him.

he dragged you swiftly up from the floor, pushing you on your back into the bed, lifting your dress, he bunched the material up so it rested on your waist; your ass that you were waving at him prior was on display. lewis' lips found your straining nipples as he licked them, sucking and biting till they were dripping in saliva and he had you whining and twisting above him, one hand pinching the nipple he wasn't able to suck, alternating.

he continued to suck as moved your panties to the side, stroking up your thighs, before bending down and softly licking at your pussy, making you moan.

“fuck, you're so wet. how long have you been like this?” he asked, licking your clit.

you groaned. “since we started getting ready to leave" you moaned, head falling against the pillow as his tongue shoved into your weeping hole, tasting your juices. "please…" you moaned as his finger rubbed your clit in slow circles, just the way you liked it, and you moaned loudly, biting your lip and shutting your eyes.

his fingers moved to your hole while his tongue turned to your clit, flicking the bean with his tongue, laving his tongue over it and sucking it in between his lips. his actions had your hips ricocheting off the bed as his nose swiped your pussy and you were bucking into his face with lewd moans as he devoured your pussy like a man starved.

"mm..wanna ride you!" you groaned, and lewis was pulling off your pussy with a wet kiss, rolling you both over so you were on top.

"take a ride love," he opened his arms, welcoming you in as he helped you get on top of him.

once you were situated on his thighs, you grabbed ahold of his cock, lining it up with your pussy before sinking down on him, planting your feet on the mattress to grind back and forth, before slowly transitioning too bouncing on his cock.

your clit was brushed against the small patch of hair on his pubic bone, and the friction felt absolutely amazing.

your hands moved up to his chest, as you began to move your hips. lewis' hands moved to your hips, as his own bucked up making you whimper.

"feel so good, baby. so good” he moaned, and you moaned as his huge dick spread you out. you began to bounce down, faster and harder.

lewis felt euphoric as he watched you move faster, his hands coming up your hair,

he was deep, deep inside you and his dick was hitting that place where you both felt incredibly good. you could feel him all the way up in your stomach.

"you deserve all the wins!" you whined and harry nodded, his mouth forming an O shape. "fuck!" lewis grunted, curls sticking to his forehead.

"i'm gonna cum" he said, gripping your hips and spearing you up and down in his cock, planting his own feet on the mattress as he started fucking up into you.

his hand wrapped around to your ass, smacking the jiggling flesh harshly, the other wrapping around your neck and hips periodically, spanking you and caressing your curves, mouth dipping to your nipples to suck them hard.

the overwhelming sensations had you squealing as you bounced faster, cries and squeals leaving your mouth as your tits bounced wildly and your pussy clenched on his big dick.

"wanna paint your pussy white" he groaned as he pounded your pussy, hips snapping into you like a jack hammer, hammering your sweet spot as you moaned incoherently on top of him.

"cum in my pussy baby" you babbled, nails digging into his chest as he smacked your ass again harshly, making your pussy squeeze. when he reached down and began to violently rub your clit, you came with a scream, your pussy clamping down on his dick like a vice.

the sensation had his stomach fluttering as you gushed over him, crying and groaning as he sucked your nipples, before emptying his load into you with a moan.

he spilled ropes of his cum into you, shuddering against you as he felt you milk his cock. "I love you" you painted, hands clinging to him for support as you went boneless. lewis' broad arms dragged you down on top of him, cock still inside you and twitching, keeping you stuffed full of his cum.

"i adore you and love you so much" lewis said, kissing your forehead as he cuddled into you.

"i love you more. i hope you liked your present" you grinned, giggling when he swiped his fingers in your pussy and licked up your juices.

a night fit for a winner.

your winner.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n : i shall go bathe in holy water. enjoy my lovelies! ♥️

TAGS

f1 : @ivegotparticulartaste @moon-enthusiast @superlegend216 @theonly1outof-a-billion

general - @roslastyles420 @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird-blog

TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST SEND ME AN ASK OR A DM SPECIFYING WHICH FANDOM 🤍

[m4iya]

──★ ˙🧷 Anon has chosen to study Science, 1 hour a day for 2 weeks with Kuroo! He's been hitting the books lately and insists he's prepared! Let’s see how they go..

Kuroo is a little cockier than most people you know. Always dropping comments about his training, time efficiency, and most of all, his grades. Though, he isn't the type to actually show off about any of it—in a way, you know that he says things like that because he's comfortable around you. So seeing that he was so comfortable—so confident, you made sure to ask if the two of you could study together for the upcoming Science exam.

He definitely isn't a cookie cutter example of what you'd imagine a nerd would look like, but here he was, sitting in front of you, tapping his pen onto your notebook as he explained the difference between organic and inorganic substances. Whenever he'd ask "Are you listening?" You had to constantly snap back to reality, nodding your head and replying with an "uh-huh". You were listening to him, though specifically to his voice, forgetting the concept he'd explain mere minutes after he'd done so.

Something had to be done about that—you didn't know how he'd react if you completely bombed the Science exam, especially with the hours that he'd spent on you. And so you made sure to actually concentrate. The smile on his face and jump in his voice as he drew diagrams, solved formulas and wrote example questions for you to solve—you imagined the way it'd fade if he figured out none of it was being used.

So you began to study for real this time. Receiving practice exams from him, you'd take them home to solve later, using the notes you'd taken on his explanations as well as separate printouts he'd given to you. Slowly, you even began to notice a shift in your information retainment. Instead of listening to his soft voice, following his hands as he'd point to specific elements, bringing his pen around the periodic table as he circled atomic numbers and whatnot, you looked beyond that.

You even found yourself looking beyond the content itself—you began to think about him, but this time, more so to do with what he did to get to the place he was now. Joking that he had barely studied yet somehow constantly scoring first place, complaining about the workload, yet finishing the assigned tasks before even leaving school the day they were assigned; he'd also mentioned being the captain of your schools volleyball team.

But you weren't going to fall behind this time around. He was so busy, always seeming to have a jam packed schedule, and you who did little to no studying each day wasn't achieving the highest at all. You knew you could definitely make your marks soar—you just needed something cemented. You'd both constantly joke about how he'd continuously managed to maintain first place and that 'you'd soon be taking his spot'. He'd laugh, running a hand through his already messed up hair as he did so, teasing, "Wow, I'm soo scared."

Though you knew he wasn't expecting to be overthrown. Not this time around, not this quickly either, and definitely not in Science of all things! Smugly placing the paper on his desk, you giggled. His mark was only two points behind yours—absolutely unheard of. However one thing was for sure. He was going to found out how you did it, how you managed to score higher than him even though he knew the content inside and out. And to do this, his plan included hanging around you for an extended period of time—watching the way you do things with a concentrated smile, looking through your notebooks when your weren’t around to see what methods you used for memory recall.

Though over the weeks, you started noticing less that your items were tampered with, a sign of him physically being around you often. The way his eyes would linger on you a little longer after you finished speaking, a pink hue glazing your cheeks as it did his; this was no longer about the exam.

From my exam season event ✩ other works

[novaursa]

The Veil of Fire (2/3)

- Summary: Your twin sister, Helaena, had her dreams, but you were gifted with something else. Something akin to a terrible purpose.

- Pairing: aunt!reader/Jacaerys Velaryon

- Note: Keep in mind there is an unspoken time jump at the beginning. For more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top. This was requested by @witch-of-letters. Enjoy! ❤️☺️

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 6 000+

- Previous part: 1

- Next part: 3

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

The dream begins as it always does: a rush of cold air against your skin, the sensation of soaring high above the world. But this time, it's different. You are not merely flying. You are the one flying. The sensation is more intense, more visceral. The air is no longer just cold—it’s frigid, biting at your scales. Your scales. You feel them shift and ripple across your massive form as your wings beat powerfully against the wind.

You are not in your own body anymore. You are Morgoth, the great black beast, the Cannibal. Every breath you take is a storm, every movement a tremor through the sky. The power surging through your veins is intoxicating, more so than any wine. It is raw, untamed strength, and you revel in it as your sharp eyes scan the land below.

The world is a patchwork of greens and browns, interspersed with the blue of rivers snaking through the land. The familiar coastlines and rocky shores of Dragonstone fade behind you as you soar southward, your massive wings cutting through the clouds like a knife through flesh.

You feel hungry—an overwhelming, primal hunger that gnaws at your insides. It is a need that cannot be ignored, a relentless force driving you to find something, someone, to satiate it. You spot movement below—a flash of color among the drab hues of the earth. Your vision narrows, focusing with deadly precision.

It’s a child.

The thought, the recognition, flickers at the edge of your consciousness, but Morgoth doesn’t care. Morgoth doesn’t know guilt or mercy. The boy is small, alone, wandering too far from the safety of his village, and that makes him prey.

You swoop down with a terrifying speed, your wings folding in, the wind howling around you as the ground rushes up to meet you. The child looks up, and for a brief, agonizing moment, you see his face clearly—wide eyes filled with fear, mouth open in a scream that will never be heard.

And then your jaws close around him.

The crunch of bones breaking, the hot rush of blood flooding your mouth—it is all so vivid, so real. You can taste the metallic tang on your tongue, feel the flesh tearing as your teeth rip through it. The child’s body is small, fragile, and it is gone within moments, reduced to nothing more than a memory of a meal.

But the hunger remains. It is insatiable, a constant demand that drives you to keep hunting, to keep killing. You feel the blood dripping from your jaws, the pieces of torn flesh stuck between your teeth. There is a satisfaction in it, a primal contentment that you know is not your own. It is Morgoth’s. But it is also yours.

The realization hits you like a blow to the chest. You are Morgoth. No, not just Morgoth. You are something more, something different. A warg. The word comes to you from the depths of your memory, a whisper of knowledge shared by your brother Aemond. He would know, of course. He is rarely wrong in matters of scholarship.

You are a warg—the first in Valyrian history, if Aemond’s ancient texts are to be believed. The thought should terrify you, and yet, it does not. There is a certain exhilaration in it, a sense of destiny fulfilled. The Old Gods of the North are said to gift such powers, but never had you imagined that it would be you—a daughter of Viserys Targaryen, twin sister to Helaena, bonded to the Cannibal—who would carry this curse, or gift.

Morgoth's form begins to fade, the sensations dimming as you feel yourself being pulled back, back into your own body. The taste of blood lingers on your tongue, even as the sight of the mutilated child haunts the edges of your vision. It is a part of you now, forever etched into your soul.

You wake with a start, gasping for air as if you had been submerged in water. Your heart pounds in your chest, a wild, frantic beat that echoes the flight of the dragon. The darkness of your chamber feels suffocating, the air thick with the remnants of the dream. You can still feel the echo of Morgoth’s power coursing through you, the raw, untamed energy that had once been his.

But it was not just his. It was yours.

The room is silent, save for the sound of your ragged breathing. Your hands shake as you clutch the sheets, trying to ground yourself in the reality of your chamber. Yet, the memory of the dream, of Morgoth’s hunt, is too fresh, too real to dismiss.

The door creaks open, and you turn sharply, still on edge. Aegon stands in the doorway, his usually languid expression tight with concern. “I heard you,” he murmurs, stepping into the room without hesitation. He is the only one you have ever allowed to see you like this—vulnerable, afraid.

“I had another dream,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. “But it was more than a dream. I think I—” You falter, the words sticking in your throat. How do you even begin to explain what you have become?

Aegon approaches, his brow furrowing as he listens. “What did you see?” he asks, his tone softer, more careful.

You swallow hard, trying to push back the rising nausea. “I was Morgoth again,” you say slowly. “I was him, Aegon. I felt everything he felt—saw through his eyes, tasted…tasted blood.”

He goes still, his eyes searching your face for any sign of jest. But there is none. “You’re serious,” he breathes, his voice tinged with disbelief.

You nod, unable to speak. The memory of the child’s body, the way it was torn apart, flashes before your eyes again. You shudder, wrapping your arms around yourself as if that could somehow protect you from the horrors you’ve witnessed.

Aegon’s hand is warm as he reaches out, pulling you close. He holds you tightly, offering what comfort he can. “You’re the strongest person I know,” he whispers into your hair. “Whatever this is…you’ll face it. We’ll face it.”

You cling to him, your heart still racing, as you try to find solace in his words. But deep down, you know that this is only the beginning. The bond you share with Morgoth is growing stronger, and with it, the darkness that comes with being a warg. You are not just a Targaryen anymore. You are something more, something ancient and terrifying.

And as you close your eyes, you can still feel the echo of wings beating against the wind, the hunger that will never be sated.

The halls of the royal quarters are eerily silent, save for the soft padding of your footsteps on the cold stone floor. Hours have passed since Aegon left your chambers, his presence a fleeting comfort in the wake of the nightmare that still clings to your consciousness like a shroud. You cannot find peace, no matter how hard you try. The burden of this terrible purpose—this dark gift that has revealed itself to you—weighs heavily on your mind.

You feel Morgoth's presence within you, a shadow that has taken root in your very soul. The power, the hunger—it lingers, a constant reminder of what you have become. Every breath you take is filled with the taste of blood, every shadow in the corridor seems to whisper your name. You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to ward off the cold that seeps into your bones, but it is no use. There is no warmth to be found in these halls tonight.

As you turn a corner, the distant sound of muffled voices reaches your ears. You stop, your heart quickening as you recognize the direction—toward the nursery. A sense of dread washes over you, and without a second thought, you quicken your pace, your feet moving faster and faster until you are nearly running. The voices grow louder, more frantic, and you can feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating.

When you reach the door to the nursery, it is ajar, just enough for you to see inside. Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the scene before you.

Two men are standing over the cradle where your sister Helaena's twins—Jaehaerys and Jaehaera—lie sleeping. One is a large, brutish figure with a butcher’s cleaver in his hand, the other smaller, wiry, with the sharp, feral look of a rat catcher. They move with purpose, their intent clear. The larger man lifts the cleaver, poised to strike.

Rage explodes within you, hot and blinding. Without thinking, without hesitation, you burst into the room, a fierce cry tearing from your throat.

“No!” you scream, launching yourself at the butcher with a force that surprises even you. Your body slams into his, and the two of you crash to the floor in a tangled heap. The cleaver skitters across the stone, out of his reach, and you feel a momentary surge of triumph.

But the butcher is strong, far stronger than you anticipated. He grapples with you, trying to throw you off, his thick hands closing around your throat. You struggle beneath him, your vision darkening as he squeezes tighter, but the fear, the desperation, only fuels your anger.

And then, something primal takes over.

Morgoth’s presence surges within you, filling you with a savage strength. You snap your head forward, your teeth sinking into the flesh of the butcher’s neck. The taste of blood floods your mouth, but you do not stop. You bite down harder, feeling the skin tear, the muscle give way. His grip on your throat loosens as he lets out a gurgling scream, but you do not relent. You rip at his throat, tearing through flesh and artery until the blood sprays across your face, hot and metallic.

The butcher's body goes limp, collapsing onto the floor beside you. You release him, panting, your mouth and chin drenched in his blood. The rage, the bloodlust—it thrums through you, and you feel more alive than you ever have before.

The rat catcher, the smaller of the two men, watches you with wide, terrified eyes. His hand shakes as he raises a knife, but he is no match for you. You stand, the taste of blood still on your tongue, and he hesitates, his fear palpable. He slashes at you wildly, the blade catching your cheek and lips, splitting the skin open and sending a fresh wave of pain coursing through you. Blood drips down your face, mingling with the butcher’s, but you barely feel it.

He turns and runs, fleeing in terror, leaving you standing over the lifeless body of his accomplice. You can hear the soft whimpering of the twins behind you, but you do not turn to look at them. Not yet. The taste of blood is still in your mouth, the memory of your teeth ripping through flesh still fresh in your mind. You close your eyes, trying to steady your breathing, to calm the storm that rages inside you.

“Where were the guards?” you ask aloud, your voice hoarse and trembling with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

At that moment, the door to the nursery opens wider, and Helaena steps inside. Her face is pale, her eyes wide with horror as she takes in the sight before her—the blood, the body, the terror written across your face. “What…what happened?” she whispers, her voice shaking as she rushes to the cradle, checking on her children. They are safe, unharmed, but their frightened cries tug at your heart, pulling you back from the brink.

You swallow hard, trying to push the words past the lump in your throat. “I—someone sent them. Assassins. They tried to kill the children.” Your voice breaks, and you can see the tears welling in Helaena’s eyes as she clutches her twins to her chest.

“Where were the guards?” you ask again, more insistent this time. Your voice is a raw, angry rasp, filled with the same fury that drove you to kill the butcher.

Helaena shakes her head, her expression one of dazed confusion. “I don’t know,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “I don’t know…”

You feel a surge of frustration, of helplessness. How could this have happened? How could they have gotten so close to the royal children without anyone stopping them? The questions burn in your mind, but there is no time to dwell on them now. You need to find your mother.

You rush from the nursery, your blood-stained hands clenched into fists, your mouth still aching from where the rat catcher’s blade cut you. You make your way through the winding corridors, ignoring the startled looks from the few servants you pass. They shrink back, their eyes widening as they take in the blood on your face, but you do not stop. Your heart pounds in your chest, a drumbeat of urgency, driving you forward.

When you reach your mother’s chambers, you do not bother to knock. You shove the door open, your breath coming in harsh gasps as you take in the scene before you.

Alicent is in bed, her hair loose around her shoulders, her face flushed with the afterglow of pleasure. And beside her, just beginning to rise from the sheets, is Ser Criston Cole. The sight stops you in your tracks, a cold fury settling in the pit of your stomach.

They both freeze, their eyes locking onto you. Alicent’s expression shifts from surprise to horror as she takes in your appearance—the blood, the cut on your cheek and lips, the wild look in your eyes. “What happened?” she demands, her voice rising in panic as she scrambles out of bed, clutching a sheet to her chest.

“I killed one of the men who tried to murder Helaena’s children,” you say, your voice cold and detached. “I tore his flesh with my teeth like a morsel.”

Ser Criston recoils, his face paling at your words. His disgust is clear, but you do not care. He is nothing to you, less than nothing.

Alicent gasps, her hands flying to her mouth as she takes a step toward you. “Gods, what has happened to you? What have you done?” she whispers, her voice filled with a mixture of fear and concern.

You take a step closer, your eyes locking onto Ser Criston’s. “He could be next if he touches you again,” you say, your voice low and dangerous. “Do you understand me, Mother? I will not allow him to sully our family any further.”

Ser Criston’s hand instinctively moves to his sword, but you do not flinch. If anything, your gaze hardens, a silent challenge that makes him pause.

“Go,” you command, your voice filled with the authority of a queen. “Leave us. Now.”

He hesitates, his eyes flicking to Alicent for guidance, but she says nothing, her face ashen. Finally, with a reluctant nod, he turns and leaves the room, casting one last wary glance over his shoulder as he goes.

As the door closes behind him, Alicent sinks onto the edge of the bed, her hands trembling as she looks at you. “What are you becoming?” she asks, her voice breaking with the weight of her sorrow.

You do not answer her. You do not know the answer yourself. All you know is that something inside you has changed, something dark and fierce, and it will not be easily tamed.

The usual murmur of voices is absent today in the small council chamber, replaced by a grim silence as they await the arrival of King Aegon. Every face is drawn with worry, every pair of eyes darkened by the implications of the previous night’s events. The attempted murder of the royal children has shaken the Red Keep to its core.

The door swings open with a force that startles everyone in the room. Aegon strides in, his expression thunderous, the weight of his fury visible in every step. His usually languid demeanor is gone, replaced by something fierce, something primal. He looks every inch the dragon he was born to be, and it is clear that the rage burning in his chest will not be easily quelled.

Following close behind him is Ser Criston Cole, his face a mask of stone, and Dowager Queen Alicent, her expression one of anxious concern. But it is the sight of you, being carefully led by the Grand Maester Orwyle, that makes the entire room go still. Your face is pale, and the fresh bandage covering your cheek cannot hide the dark bloodstain that has soaked through. The scar will be a permanent reminder of the violence you endured, a testament to the ferocity with which you defended your sister’s children.

Aegon’s gaze hardens as he looks at you, and a muscle in his jaw tics with the effort to control his emotions. He cannot allow himself to lose control, not here, not now. The council must see him as strong, unyielding in the face of this treachery.

“My children,” Aegon begins, his voice low and trembling with restrained anger, “were almost butchered in their beds last night. My sister”—his eyes flick to you, softening for just a moment—“bears the proof of her courage on her face, yet the threat lingers. Who dares to strike at the heart of the royal family?”

He slams his hand down on the table, the sound reverberating through the chamber. The council members flinch, but none dare to speak first. They have never seen Aegon like this—so utterly consumed by wrath.

It is Larys Strong who breaks the silence, his voice measured and calm, as if speaking of the weather. “Your Grace,” he says, leaning forward slightly, “all traces of this foul deed lead to one conclusion. It was your uncle, Daemon, and his wife, Rhaenyra. They are the only ones who would dare such a brazen act against you.”

There is a murmur of agreement around the table, but Aegon’s eyes narrow dangerously. “Daemon,” he repeats, the name dripping with venom. “Is this about Luke?”

“There can be no other explanation, Your Grace,” Larys continues, his gaze flicking to you momentarily. “The men who were sent to do this terrible thing—they were no common cutthroats. They were professionals, well-trained and well-paid. Such men would only be employed by someone with the means and the motive to strike at the heart of the Targaryen line.”

Aegon clenches his fists, his knuckles turning white. “And yet, despite all of their planning, they were thwarted by my sister.” His voice rises, filled with pride and fury in equal measure. “She fought them off, saved my children from certain death. And she has been rewarded with a scar that she will bear for the rest of her life!”

He turns his gaze to the Grand Maester, who is busy tending to you, his wrinkled hands gentle as they adjust the bandage on your cheek. “Tell them, Orwyle,” Aegon demands. “Tell them what they’ve done to her.”

Orwyle looks up, his eyes filled with a mixture of sympathy and regret. “The wound is deep, Your Grace. It will heal, but the scar… The scar will remain. It is a mark of great courage, but also of great pain.”

Aegon’s expression darkens further, and he seems on the verge of losing control. “They have maimed my sister,” he growls. “They have tried to take my children from me. And you all stand here, debating who might be responsible, as if there is any doubt!”

Lord Larys remains calm, though there is a hint of satisfaction in his eyes. “Your Grace, if we are to respond to this attack, we must be certain of our enemy. Daemon and Rhaenyra have been gathering forces, preparing for war. They believe the Iron Throne rightfully belongs to Rhaenyra. This is a move to weaken you, to destabilize your reign.”

Aegon’s eyes flash with something dark and dangerous. “Then we will give them war,” he says, his voice cold and resolute. “We will hunt them down like the traitors they are. But know this—my sister, the Princess, is under my protection. Any harm that befalls her will be met with a wrath that will make the Seven Kingdoms tremble.”

He looks at you again, his expression softening just a fraction. “I will not let them touch you again,” he vows. “Not while I still draw breath.”

The council members exchange uneasy glances, but none dare to oppose the king’s decree. They know that Aegon’s rage is like a wildfire, and any who stand in its path will be consumed.

Ser Criston Cole steps forward, his voice steady and reassuring. “Your Grace, I will see to it that the palace is secured. We will not allow another breach like this. The guards will be doubled, and I will personally oversee their training.”

Aegon nods, his anger still simmering just beneath the surface. “See that you do, Ser Criston. If there is another attempt on my family, I will hold you personally responsible.”

Ser Criston bows his head, accepting the king’s command without protest. He knows that Aegon’s fury is justified, and he will do whatever it takes to protect the royal family.

Aegon turns to you once more, his expression softening even further as he reaches out to take your hand. “You saved them,” he murmurs, his voice filled with a rare tenderness. “You saved my children, and I owe you more than I can ever repay.”

You look up at him, your eyes still filled with the pain and fear of the previous night. “I would do it again, Aegon,” you say softly. “They are my blood as much as yours.”

He squeezes your hand, his gaze filled with a mixture of gratitude and sorrow. “And I will make sure that no one ever harms you again, sister,” he promises. “This, I swear.”

The small council remains silent, the weight of the king’s words hanging heavily in the air. The room is filled with the promise of retribution, and as Aegon looks around the table, each member knows that the events of the previous night have changed everything.

War is coming, and the blood that has been spilled will be avenged.

The flickering light of the hearth casts warm, dancing shadows across the stone walls of your chamber. The air is drenched with the scent of burning wood and the faint aroma of lavender from the candles you’ve lit. It is a rare moment of solitude in the Red Keep, a brief respite from the constant watchful eyes and the burden of your newfound abilities. You cherish these moments, where the weight of your responsibilities can be set aside, if only for a short while.

You sit by the fire, your fingers tracing the thin, silvery scar that now mars your cheek and lips—a permanent reminder of the night you fought to save your sister’s children. It is a small price to pay, you tell yourself, though the sting of that night lingers, not just in your flesh but in your heart.

Before you, on the small table beside your chair, lie two letters, each carefully unfolded and read multiple times. The first is from Daeron, your youngest brother, currently stationed in Oldtown. His words are full of affection and concern, the kind of letter that reminds you of simpler days when you were just his beloved sister, not the fierce protector or the silent warg you’ve become. You smile faintly as you reread his words, feeling a swell of love for him.

My dear sister, the letter begins, I think of you often, and I miss our days together in the gardens, where we spoke of nothing and everything. I long for the day when we are all reunited, and the shadow that looms over our family is lifted. Please take care, and know that my thoughts are with you always.

The innocence and sincerity in his words warm your heart, but they also remind you of the distance between you now—not just in miles, but in the paths your lives have taken. He still sees you as the sister who read to him and played with him in the courtyard, not as the woman you’ve become—marked by blood and fire, burdened with secrets you cannot share.

You set Daeron’s letter aside and reach for the second one, your heart beating a little faster as your fingers brush the familiar seal. Jace’s letter is more worn, the edges slightly crumpled from being unfolded and read countless times. His words, penned in his bold, confident hand, ignite a different fire within you—a longing that has been your constant companion ever since your secret affair began.

My dearest heart, the letter reads, it feels like an eternity since I last held you, since I last saw your face and felt the warmth of your smile. The days are cold and empty without you. I can think of nothing else but our next meeting. There is an island, a place we both know well. Come to me, my love. Let us forget the world, if only for a night.

The passion in his words makes your heart swell, your thoughts immediately drifting to the secluded island where you and Jace have met so many times before. It is a place of solace, of stolen moments that belong only to the two of you. The thought of seeing him again, of feeling his arms around you, is enough to make your breath catch.

But as you sit there, with the two letters before you, you are reminded of the dangerous path you walk. The love you share with Jace is forbidden, a fire that could consume you both if discovered. And yet, you cannot deny the pull, the need to be with him, to feel alive in a way that only he can make you feel.

Your eyes drift to the flames in the hearth, their warm glow reflecting in your eyes as you contemplate what must be done. With a heavy heart, you reach for the letters and hold them over the fire. The parchment catches quickly, curling and blackening as the flames consume the words written with such care and affection.

As the letters turn to ash, you feel a pang of regret, but also a sense of resolve. These letters were too dangerous to keep, too risky to let fall into the wrong hands. Your love for Jace and your affection for Daeron are now secrets you must carry in your heart alone.

You stand, brushing the ash from your fingers as you move to the window. The cool night air brushes against your scarred cheek, a contrast to the warmth of the fire. You close your eyes, letting your thoughts drift to Jace, to the feel of his hands on yours, the sound of his voice whispering your name. The thought of seeing him again fills you with a mix of excitement and fear. The danger, the secrecy, it only makes your love burn brighter, more fiercely.

But there is something else as well, something darker. The abilities that have manifested within you, the connection with Morgoth, the warg abilities you have struggled to control—they are always there, lurking in the background of your mind. You’ve been practicing, trying to understand and master them, but they are wild, untamed, much like the dragon within. The more you use them, the more you feel them growing stronger, more insistent.

The thought of what you could become, of what you might be capable of, both terrifies and excites you. You wonder if Jace would still love you if he knew the full extent of your abilities, if he knew the darkness that now shadows your every step.

But these thoughts, too, are set aside as you prepare for what comes next. There is no turning back now. You will go to the island, you will see him again. And you will face whatever comes, with the same fire that has carried you through every trial.

For now, you are content to let the night air soothe your worries, even if only for a moment. Tomorrow, you will return to the role you must play—daughter, sister, protector, and secret lover. But tonight, you allow yourself to imagine what it will feel like to be in Jace’s arms again, if only for a few stolen hours.

And as the flames in the hearth die down, leaving nothing but embers, you find yourself whispering into the darkness, a promise meant for no one but yourself: “I will see you soon, my love. And may the gods help anyone who tries to stop me.”

The island looms on the horizon, a solitary speck of land amidst the endless expanse of sea. The wind rushes past you as Morgoth’s powerful wings beat rhythmically against the air, the dragon’s massive form casting a long shadow over the water below. The island is a place of memories, of secrets shared in the moonlight and promises whispered in the dark. It is the only place where you and Jace can truly be yourselves, away from the prying eyes and the heavy weight of duty.

Morgoth lands with a graceful thud, the ground trembling beneath the weight of his massive claws. The familiar scent of salt and sand fills your senses as you slide from his back, your boots sinking into the soft, sun-warmed sand. You take a deep breath, the tension that has coiled in your chest since you last saw Jace beginning to unwind. Here, on this island, you can forget the world and simply be.

As you look around, your eyes find him almost immediately. Jace is just ahead, dismounting Vermax with practiced ease. His dark hair is tousled by the wind, and even from a distance, you can see the familiar warmth in his eyes, tempered by a hint of something darker—anger, perhaps, or worry. It doesn’t matter. The moment you see him, your heart leaps, and before you know it, you’re running toward him.

“Jace!” you call out, your voice filled with the joy and relief of finally being near him again. He turns at the sound of your voice, his expression softening as he sees you rushing toward him.

You reach him in moments, throwing yourself into his arms with a force that nearly knocks the breath out of you both. He catches you easily, holding you tight against him as if he never wants to let you go. The warmth of his body, the familiar scent of him—it’s like coming home.

“I’ve missed you,” you whisper against his neck, your arms wrapping around him as you press yourself closer, as if trying to make up for all the time you’ve spent apart.

“And I you,” he murmurs back, his voice rough with emotion. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes scanning your face as if committing every detail to memory. But then his gaze catches on the scar that mars your cheek and lips, a reminder of the night that nearly tore your family apart.

His hand comes up to gently trace the line of the scar, his touch featherlight. “They did this to you,” he says, his voice hardening with barely restrained anger. “Daemon and my mother—they’re responsible for this.”

“Jace,” you begin, trying to soothe him, but the fire in his eyes only burns brighter.

“They sent those men,” he continues, his jaw clenching as he speaks. “They tried to kill your family, and you—” His voice breaks, and he closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “They tried to take you from me. Like Aemond took Luke.”

You can see the storm of emotions raging within him—anger, guilt, fear—but you cannot let him carry this burden alone. You reach up, cupping his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing over his cheekbones in a tender caress. “I’m here, Jace,” you whisper, your voice filled with the love and reassurance you know he needs. “I’m alive. They didn’t take me. I’m right here with you.”

His eyes open, meeting yours, and you can see the flicker of uncertainty in them. But before he can say anything more, you close the distance between you, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that is both fierce and gentle, a silent promise that nothing and no one will come between you.

The kiss deepens quickly, the passion that has been building since your last meeting igniting like fire. The world falls away, leaving only the two of you, wrapped up in each other, in the heat of your desire. His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you even closer, and you gasp against his lips as the intensity of your connection overwhelms you.

The sand beneath your feet is soft and warm as Jace lowers you both to the ground, his body pressing down against yours. The feel of him, the weight and the warmth of him, is both comforting and exhilarating. His hands are sure and familiar as they begin to undo the laces of your clothing, and you help him, your fingers trembling slightly with the urgency of your need.

There is no hesitation, no shyness between you. You’ve done this before, so many times, yet every time feels like the first—new and exhilarating, filled with the thrill of discovery and the comfort of familiarity. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore is a distant hum, drowned out by the beating of your heart and the ragged breaths you share as you finally, finally, come together.

When he enters you, it’s with a practiced ease that sends a shiver of pleasure through your entire body. You both gasp, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity, as if every nerve ending has been set alight. You move together, a rhythm as old as time itself, each movement a silent declaration of your love, your longing, your need.

“Jace,” you breathe, his name a prayer on your lips as he buries his face in the curve of your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

“I’m here,” he murmurs in response, his voice rough with emotion. “I’m here, my love.”

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, holding him close as the passion between you builds, becoming wilder, more desperate. There is nothing gentle about it now, only the raw need to be as close as possible, to feel every inch of each other, to lose yourselves in the heat of the moment.

The world narrows down to the two of you—two souls entwined, lost in each other, as the fire between you blazes hotter, brighter. And when you finally reach that peak together, it is with a shared cry of pleasure, your bodies tensing and trembling as the waves of ecstasy wash over you.

Afterward, you lie there together on the sand, your bodies still entwined, your breathing slowly returning to normal. The warmth of the sun, the gentle breeze, the sound of the sea—it all feels distant, secondary, to the presence of Jace beside you.

He presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair away from your face. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice filled with the kind of tenderness that makes your heart ache in the best way possible.

“And I love you,” you reply, your voice soft but filled with conviction. You reach up to cup his face again, your thumb tracing the line of his jaw.

The warmth of the aftermath lingers in the air, the sound of the waves gently lapping against the shore as you lie entwined with Jace on the soft sand. His arm is draped around you, holding you close, as your head rests against his chest. You can hear the steady beat of his heart, a comforting rhythm that contrasts with the turmoil in your own. For a while, you both simply breathe, savoring the peace of this stolen moment. But the silence between you is heavy with unspoken words, and you can feel the weight of your fears pressing down on you, threatening to shatter the fragile tranquility you've found.

It’s Jace who finally breaks the silence, his voice soft and filled with concern. “You’re quiet,” he murmurs, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back. “I can feel something is troubling you.”

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you know you must say. You’ve carried this burden alone for too long, and if there’s anyone you can trust, it’s Jace. He deserves to know the truth, no matter how dark it may be.

“There’s something I haven’t told you,” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. You feel his body tense slightly beneath you, but he doesn’t interrupt, waiting patiently for you to continue. “Something…something I’ve been struggling with for years now. And I’m afraid of what it means.”

Jace’s hand stills on your back, his attention fully focused on you. “You can tell me anything,” he says softly, his voice filled with a quiet reassurance that makes your heart ache. “Whatever it is, I’ll understand.”

You sit up slightly, turning to face him as you gather the courage to speak. The look in his eyes—so full of love and concern—gives you the strength to continue. “I can…warg,” you say, the word feeling foreign and heavy on your tongue. “I can warg into Morgoth.”

Jace’s eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he reaches up to cup your face, his thumb gently brushing against the scar on your cheek. “Into your dragon?” he asks, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and disbelief. “How is that possible?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly. “It started a few years ago, in my dreams. I thought it was just that—dreams. But then it became more in recent months. I can feel him, see through his eyes, control him. I feel his hunger, his anger, and it terrifies me, Jace. I’m afraid I’m losing myself to him.”

Jace listens intently, his expression one of deep concern, but there is no judgment in his eyes—only understanding. “When…when the assassins came for Helaena’s children,” you continue, your voice breaking as the memories flood back, “I used that power. I was fighting one of the men, and I… I bit him. I tore out his throat with my teeth, just like Morgoth would. It wasn’t just instinct—it was something darker, something…unnatural.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you confess this, the horror of what you’ve done finally spilling out. “I’m afraid, Jace,” you whisper, your voice shaking. “I’m afraid I’m becoming a monster.”

For a moment, Jace says nothing, and you fear that he’ll pull away, that he’ll see you for the monster you believe yourself to be. But then, to your surprise, he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you in a protective embrace. His hand cradles the back of your head, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“You’re not a monster,” he whispers fiercely, his voice filled with conviction. “You’re the bravest, most selfless person I know. You saved your sister’s children and you’ve done nothing but protect those you love. Whatever this power is, whatever it means, it doesn’t change who you are.”

You bury your face in his chest, letting his words wash over you, trying to believe them. But the fear still lingers, the doubt that you can’t quite shake. “But what if I can’t control it?” you ask, your voice muffled against him. “What if I hurt someone I love?”

Jace pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression serious but gentle. “Then we’ll figure it out,” he says firmly. “You’re not alone in this. We’ll learn to control it, to understand it. You’re stronger than you think, and I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

His words bring a sense of relief you didn’t know you needed. For so long, you’ve carried this burden alone, but now, with Jace by your side, it doesn’t feel so overwhelming. You nod, trying to smile through your tears, but Jace catches the flicker of doubt still lingering in your eyes.

He leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips—a kiss filled with all the love and reassurance he can give. When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re not alone,” he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I will love you, no matter what.”

You close your eyes, letting yourself believe in his words, letting his love and warmth seep into the cold, dark places within you. For the first time in months, you feel a glimmer of hope—hope that you are more than the darkness, more than the power that threatens to consume you.

“I love you, Jace,” you whisper, your voice steady for the first time since you began speaking. “And I trust you.”

In that moment, as you lie in his arms with the sea gently lapping at the shore, you feel a sense of peace you haven’t felt in a long time. 

And together, you will find a way forward.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Dangerous Dreams

Written for round 1 of the @steddiebingo and for week 1 of @steddiesportsau

Prompts: Hurt/Comfort | Olympic Sports

Words: 2,023 [also on AO3]

Rated: T

Tags: Figure skater Eddie; Coach Steve; Past Stancy; Injury; Sexual tension

Notes: Prequel to this one

It’s long past dark by the time Steve walks Nancy to her car. They're the last ones to leave the rink as usual, all of the other athletes and coaches long gone. Some things never change, he guesses.

“You really don’t have to do this,” she says, eyeing the bag with her clothes and skates that he has slung over one shoulder. “People will jump to conclusions if they see us together like this.” 

Steve huffs, opening the trunk and throwing the bag inside. 

“Like what, that we’re dating again? I’m your coach, aren’t I? I’m allowed to look after my athletes.” 

She shrugs, playing with a strand that has escaped from the updo she has thrown her hair into for practice. 

“That’s not how the tabloids are going to see it and you know it.” 

“Yeah, well,” he smiles drily. “Let them think what they want. I don’t care about their opinion.” 

She raises her brows at him, fumbling in her jacket pocket for her keys. 

“Oh, yes? What about the opinion of a certain loud-mouthed, curly-haired figure skating prodigy?” 

He sputters. 

“I don't- … What? No! He's a pain in the- I mean … who are you even talking about?” 

As she slides into the driver's seat, she gives him a look. 

“You know exactly who I'm talking about. And I suggest you get it sorted out before the Olympics, one way or another. We'll all need a clear head for the competitions.” 

Steve watches her tail lights grow smaller, wondering how she still manages to see right through him. It's another thing that'll never change, he guesses.

*

If he decides to do a final round of the premises before going home, it's solely to make sure all of the doors are locked, and not because he needs to clear his head. The rink lies in darkness, bar for the neon lights over the emergency exits that never go out. It makes the ice glitter invitingly, and before he knows it, he is standing at its edge, clutching the banister. 

He knows he shouldn't. 

There's nobody around to help him if he falls. It's crazy and stupid and reckless, and he should know better. 

But the white, glistening surface is whispering his name, and his muscles are aching for the familiar movements and his blood is longing for the thrill of the speed and the spins and the leaps. 

He'll only do a few rounds. 

*

The blades glide over the ice like an extension of his legs, the rest of his limbs flowing into movement on muscle memory alone. He skates along the outer barrier of the rink in a wide circle, then another, picking up speed as he gets more confident and the initial tension leaves him. 

He's been missing this. 

It feels like coming home. 

He turns, gliding backwards for a few yards, then twists again, lifting the bad leg off the ground and extending it behind himself in an elegant arch, using the momentum of it to spin into a slow spiral. It's nothing like what he used to be able to do, nowhere close to the routine that was supposed to win him his third gold medal, but with the empty hall blurring out of focus and the rush of speed in his veins, it's easy to remember. The spotlights shining down on him, bright and hot. The murmur of the crowd in the stands disappearing under the music blasting from the speakers. A hundred cameras gleaming and flashing all around him, every single one trained on him as the world watches him defy gravity, holding its breath as he prepares to leap. 

He jumps. 

It feels like flying, like soaring. Like coming home. 

And then gravity sets back in and all he remembers is pain. 

He knows that it'll go wrong the second his blade connects with the ice, just like he knew four years ago. His ankle gives out like a twig, pain zapping all the way into his teeth. He tries to control the fall as he goes down, bringing up his arms to protect his head, angling himself so that he won't crush the bad leg with his own weight. And then his hip hits the ice and everything turns into a blur of pain. 

Even after the world stops spinning, he keeps lying with his arms shielding his face, waiting for ringing in his ears to die down and for the sting behind his eyelids to go away. 

It's easy to remember. 

The music grinding to a stop. The alarmed murmurs picking up from the stands. Nancy and their coach rushing to his side, frantically calling for the medics. The goddamn cameras still running, eager for a glimpse of his pain and humiliation as the double gold medal winner lay in a crumpled heap on the ice. 

He's an idiot. He should've known better than to try again. At least, this time, there's nobody around to see him. 

“Shit, man. Are you alright?” 

Steve freezes. Suddenly, he's hyper-aware of every tiny detail of his surroundings. The cold of the rink bleeding into his back. The heat of his own sweat drying on his skin. The burning pain in his ankle and hip and shoulders where he tumbled over the ice. When he drops his arm from his face, his vision is still blurry, but it doesn’t matter. He'd know those stupid, expressive doe eyes looking down on him everywhere. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he croaks, sitting up and running a trembling hand through his hair to check for head injuries. 

“Arriving just in time to watch you eat dirt, apparently,” Eddie says. “Or ice. No need to thank me. I'm also glad I'm around to make sure you don't bleed out or choke on your own tongue, or- hey, careful now.” 

Steve, who is just hoisting himself upright, clinging to the banister for support, swats off the hand that reaches out to steady him. 

“Leave me alone, I don't need your- ah, fuck.” 

The twisted ankle gives out the second he tries to put weight on it, and Steve grits his teeth through the fresh surge of pain. By the time the white lights bursting across his vision fade, Eddie’s hand is on his elbow again.

“Sure you don't, big boy. Now c'mon, let's get you looked at.” 

This time, Steve doesn’t protest as Eddie guides him off the ice. 

*

“What are you doing here?” he asks again, once they have made it to his office - Steve's arm slung over Eddie's shoulder - and he's safely seated in his desk chair. 

Eddie, who has his back turned and is rifling through the freezer for an ice pack, shrugs, but Steve sees the way his shoulders go tense. 

“Just dropped by to pick up my wallet. Must've left it in the locker room earlier.” 

Steve gives him a look. “Your wallet. Really.” 

“Yup,” Eddie replies cheerfully. Like Steve can't see the cut-off shirt and skin-tight leggings under his leather jacket. Like Steve won’t notice that he isn’t wearing any of his usual jewelry, except for the delicate ring with the stone - the one he never takes off, not even on the ice. “Now hold still, this is gonna hurt.”

Before Steve can protest or brace himself, he has dropped to his knees and pulled the injured foot into his lap. Steve hisses as nimble fingers push up the hem of his pants, prodding at his ankle. 

“Already bruising,” Eddie mutters. His head is bowed, and his hair is in a high ponytail, leaving the long, pale curve of his neck exposed. “Doesn’t look broken to me, but I’m not a doctor. You want me to call Robin or-” 

“God, no,” Steve groans. “She’d behead me with my own skates.” 

Eddie snorts a laugh and presses the ice pack to the tender, purpling skin. A few seconds pass in silence while Steve curls his fingers into the chair and waits for the worst of the sting to settle. 

“It’s not broken,” he finally mutters, when the quiet gets too heavy and oppressive. “I know what a broken ankle feels like, and this is nowhere close.”

Eddie doesn’t answer, just hums - a vague noise that could be anything from agreement to doubt. His fingers graze Steve’s ankle as he adjusts his grip on the ice pack. 

“It was a shame that happened,” he says instead. “You were a fucking legend, man. You oughta have won that medal. It was what you deserved.”

Steve feels himself flush. He half expects Eddie to follow the remark with one of his usual quips or jabs, but his eyes are nothing but serious as he looks up. The air in the office seems too thick all of a sudden. 

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs. “Life isn't fair, sometimes.” 

Eddie smiles sadly. 

“I guess it isn't,” he agrees. Then he pauses. Licks his lips. “You ever considered getting back into it?” 

“Huh?” Steve, momentarily distracted by the light sheen of moisture on Eddie’s lips, startles. “What, at my age, and with that injury? Forget it. I'll never be able to skate in competitions again, I wouldn't stand a-” 

“I wasn't talking about competitions,” Eddie says. “Just … for fun. I dunno, but … that jump? I think that was the happiest I ever saw you just now.”

Steve snorts a humourless laugh, ignoring the painful twang in his chest. “Until I brained myself on the ice, you mean.” 

Eddie shrugs. “What's life without a little risk? Playing it safe may keep you from getting hurt, but sometimes you gotta fall before you can fly.” 

Steve is just about to ask what motivational poster he pulled that bit of wisdom from when Eddie removes the ice pack and climbs to his feet. 

“Now, you need a ride home, or-” 

“I can drive,” he blurts, hurriedly suppressing the mental image of himself riding passenger princess-style on that black monster of a motorcycle that Eddie insists on driving. He still accepts the offered hand and allows Eddie to hover by his side as they make their way to the parking lot. 

They're almost at the car when Eddie speaks again. 

“So … about my routine.” 

“No,” Steve says. Eddie groans and throws up his hands. 

“I didn't even say what I wanted!” 

Steve yanks open the driver's door, throwing himself into the seat and suppressing a wince when his ankle protests. 

“I'm taking a wild guess. We've been over this before, Eddie. You're not picking a metal song for an Olympic skating routine.” 

Eddie's mouth does the twitchy thing that means he's consciously holding himself back from saying something stupid. 

“You said to pick something that speaks to us, so that we can deliver our best possible performance. This speaks to me. I don't understand why-” 

“Because,” Steve interrupts him, “it will speak to literally nobody else. “Have you for a second considered what the jury will think?” 

There's more on the tip of his tongue. How Eddie is a once-in-a-lifetime talent. How he has seen him do things on those skates he never thought possible. How he'll go on to be far greater than Steve ever was, and could ever have hoped to become, if only he can get that goddamn ego in check. 

He doesn't say any of that, though.

“I'm not letting you ruin this for yourself,” is what he does say. “It's too risky, and that's my final word.” 

Eddie’s face twitches again. When it settles, his smile is all teeth.

“Of course,” he mutters. “You would know all about risks, wouldn’t you?” 

It lands harder than it has any right to and the pain in his ankle, which had only just calmed down, suddenly feels sharp again. 

“Eddie, listen,” he says, but Eddie has already turned and is walking towards his motorcycle, which is parked a little way off. 

“No need, you've made your point clear. We better both head home. See you tomorrow, coach.” 

Steve sits in his dark car long after Eddie has disappeared into the night, thinking about risks and choices and the contempt in those dark, pretty eyes. 

More Steddie Bingo

[ask-de-writer]

I would like to thank Delightfully

EAGER BINGE READER

@furislupus​ for READING and LIKING

My whole MASTER STORY INDEX SECTION,

and finished off the MLP Fan Fiction

section moving on to Classical Fantasy

SOMETIME LATER, (Parts 3 through 7 of 7)

And on to Tales Set in Hell Itself

NICK’S PLACE

BUSINESS LUNCH

HOW I GOT HERE

And from there to Tales of Sir Neva Mar

PRINCESS ROWAN

RAPUNZEL - Act 2

GHOUL FRIEND (Parts 1 and 2 of 2)

THE DRAGON'S PLEA (Parts 1 to 3 of 3)

RAVEN'S REVENGE (Parts 1 to 2 of 2)

And from thence to Science Fiction

SOAR 1 - the Jump!

[mambodork]

I absolutely love all your aus!! Am going to ask a few questions if that’s alright… (sorry if they’ve already been answered)

Are there other characters in the isekai world that turn up during the story? Does Grian know about them and when they appear, or will they be new to him?

If Boatem ever figured out he was ‘one of the creators’ and using his knowledge of the plot to help them, how would they react?

For the divorce scarian au, what does big man Jim think about all the tension going on between Grian and Scar? …does he ship them

Do the boatem supervillains know each others identities? Do they actually even have civilian identities?

Does ugly baby Grian know how to climb stuff? Because I can imagine him being a menace by trying to get up high in order to jump off it (and soar like a bird) and then baby Scar holding out his arms ready to catch him and getting completely flattened

(That’s all for now, will come back later if I have more questions, sorry to bother if they’ve already been answered, so have a cookie for your troubles 🍪)

-✨anon✨

HURRAY !! tysm for the many questions ... i will try my best to answer them <3

1. Everyone in life series is a character !! Im also contemplating putting some people from HC as well, but the number of characters overwhelm me, so most of them don't really have much detailed lore compared to Boatem. Grian knows about every single one of them.

2. This one still subject to change because their initial first reaction don't really matter much on the overall lore of the story, but I like to think they experience the news very differently. I'm very VERY keen on Scar to be immediately accepting without question, right off the bat. I have a very clear line for him in my head that I really wanna draw for after he found out about Grian being their "creator" and its something along the lines of him being glad for being made by someone so kind .... or something like that.

3. Tbh i think he is probably a little freaked out cuz it's essentially seeing ur teacher flirt w ur family member and also they are incredibly old and gross 🤢 ... but also i think he fw Scar heavy and immediately joins his every scheme to try and get Grian back. They #ChillAsHell

4. Yes, they know each other's identities and are all friends outside the mask !!! I would like to think they have normal lives outside their villain jobs, but they probably mostly use it to goof around since money is no issue for them.

5. The mere idea of seeing that creature climb things made me shiver me timbers ..... yeah ... he probably could .... im so scared of him

[wheeniemyloove]

in the stands (jude bellingham x fem!reader)

summary!: reader watches nervously as her boyfriend, jude bellingham, plays a crucial match for Real Madrid.

contains!: kissing, fluff, mentions of y/n

The stadium was alive with the roars of thousands of Real Madrid fans. It was a crucial match, and the energy was electric. Amidst the sea of white jerseys and waving flags, Y/n sat anxiously in the stands, her eyes fixed on the pitch. Her heart pounded with a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

Jude Bellingham, her boyfriend and Real Madrid's star midfielder, was warming up on the field. She watched him intently, admiring his focus and determination. They had been together for a year now, and she had seen him grow both on and off the pitch. Tonight, she hoped for nothing but the best for him.

The match started, and from the very first whistle, Jude was everywhere. His presence on the field was commanding; he directed the play, intercepted passes, and orchestrated attacks with ease. Y/n couldn't help but feel proud. Every time he touched the ball, she felt a surge of pride and excitement.

As the game progressed, it was clear that this was going to be a tough battle. The opposing team was strong, and the score remained 0-0. In the 70th minute, Real Madrid was awarded a corner. Y/n leaned forward in her seat, her breath caught in her throat.

The ball was whipped in, and amidst the chaos in the penalty area, Jude leapt high, his head connecting perfectly with the ball. It soared into the net, and the stadium erupted in cheers. Y/n jumped to her feet, screaming with joy, her hands clapping wildly. Jude had done it. He had broken the deadlock.

Jude ran towards the corner flag, sliding on his knees in celebration. His teammates mobbed him, but in that moment, his eyes scanned the crowd until they found her. He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, and she knew it was meant for her. Her heart swelled with love and pride.

The final whistle blew, and Real Madrid had won 1-0, thanks to Jude's goal. The atmosphere in the stadium was euphoric. Fans chanted Jude's name, and the team celebrated on the pitch. Y/n made her way down to the players' tunnel, her excitement barely contained.

After what felt like an eternity, Jude emerged, his face beaming with joy. Without a second thought, Y/n ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck. He lifted her off the ground, spinning her around.

"You were amazing, babe," she whispered into his ear, her voice full of emotion.

He set her down gently, his eyes shining. "I couldn't have done it without you here," he replied, his hand cupping her cheek. "You're my good luck charm."

They shared a tender kiss, oblivious to the noise and chaos around them. In that moment, it was just the two of them, lost in their own world.

As they pulled apart, Jude took her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers. "Let's go celebrate," he said with a grin.

Y/n nodded, her heart soaring. "Let's go."

Hand in hand, they walked away from the stadium, ready to celebrate not just the victory, but the love that had brought them together.

[hoe4sports]

Antarctica

Leah Williamson x reader

A/N: Mentions of throwing up and nausea.

Your eyes flutter when you feel your body start to wake up. The season changing from summer to fall makes you feel relieved. You consider it a clean sheet, a desperately needed fresh start for instance. When the season changes, it marks how the world still moves forwards. It’s a blunt reminder that, everything still has to go on. It’s not summer anymore, but the light outside is the kind of light that blinds you in the fall. It takes you some adjusting to get used to the light pouring in from outside. The light peeks through the slit of your curtains revealing your apartment’s desperate need for a clean with dust particles roaming through the air.

The fall has made its appearance. Colouring the landscape into a golden shade of brown and yellow blended into a perfect combination. Before you wrap yourself in the big comforter again, you run your eyes across the window. You live fairly high up, the kind of high that makes the building sway with the wind’s despair. The pillow calls for you and you happily oblige, putting your head on the soft square.

“07:33” you parrot to yourself before obliging to your body’s call for sleep. Sleep is weighing heavily on your eyelids before you feel a startle. Moments before you feel yourself soar into to your most holy happiest place: Your body does a startle that frightens you beyond your own knowledge leaving your back feeling cold.

“07:33?? Shit, shit, shit, shit!” You yell out in frustration in the shell of an apartment that once was filled with love. The instant panic causes you to go diving off the bed and become familiar with the carpet, naturally face first. That’s when the inner chaos erupts . Your keys are nowhere to be found, but ultimately you find them on the shoe rack. Then realisation hits you; all your training bra’s are dirty. As a compromise you end up with the next best thing; A bright pink Nike swim top.

As you flee out the door, you instantly have to run back in for your phone and when you eventually get to the car feeling lightheaded from the running; you are wearing two different shoes.

The feeling of letting someone down is so painful that you’d rather be let down yourself. You hurry back into the apartment at the speed of a lightning practically jumping on one leg out into the hallway with one sneaker on your right food and the other in your hand desperately trying to get it on. You do a spin as soon as your shoes are physically on to your feet before you run out of the hallway, fly down all 16 floor and jumps into the car. By grace, you end up making it somewhat safely to your destination. The wheels of the car stops turning at 07.44, just 1 minute shy of the obligatory first breakfast with your te

Your frame moves in a rapid speed outside making a beeline for the player’s entrance across the parking lot. A few swears escapes your lips in frustration as you pass car after car. Before it happened, you were always early. The chaos of oversleeping leads to your hair being everywhere. ThTs also knew. Everyone knows that you don’t oversleep, ever. When you enter the cafeteria with your hands busy tying your hair up, Jonas gives you an apologetic look. He dosent look mad or disappointed in you, his eyes are giving you grace. The whole team is giving you grace because they all know. Even though you tried to camouflage it, hide it in the deepest of closets and put on the bravest face you could; they still all knew.

“Welcome back, girls. We are delighted to have you all back and I trust that you have all had immensely with rest. This fall, there are some changes moving into action..” The team’s coordinator announces as you attempt finding your spot. The attempt is rather unsuccessful, and it makes you sound like an elephant in a porcelain store.

You slide down next to Guro and Jessie. Sitting between the two girls makes you feel safe and seen. Guro is a natural leader. Her leadership will push you to your physical limits, but she will be the first to notice any kind of change in behaviour. She was a good choice as the Norwegian captain.

The girls share a look before Jessie pats your back which sends you into a pre spiral. Whenever people showed you kindness, your radars immediately went off, making it feel like something was wrong. You try to shake the thought, but the attempt remains unsuccessful.

“It’s okay, I’m so happy you showed up, Y/N. I’m here for you.” Guro whispered to you. The act was meant as a good deed, but it left you feeling even further confused. Guro was there when it happened, she was the first and only person you told. Your eyes move to Jessie who sends you yet another apologetic look. The look is enough to send shivers down your spine.

“..and with that, our newest signing will be coming in for practice in a few hours. Let’s all enjoy the fantastic breakfast that our amazing workers has prepared for us. Here is to a good season of growth and training!” the coordinator ends her speech. The speech stretched out for what seemed like forever, leaving you with a very obnoxious yawn. You thought that the group would be annoyed on the seemingly disrespectful motion, but instead the apologetic looks flooded like flowers at a funeral. All of the words from the coordinator had gone above and beyond your head. The anxiety was building up like a boiling kettle in your gut. It felt like your body had set off an alarm to active your entire nervoussystem. You rub your hands together for comfort, not getting any kind of relief.

The anixety gathers up in your gut, throat and eventually your headspace. Guro is the first to notice. It was obvious when everyone at your table had stood up to explore the breakfast buffet, but you got left behind. Guro looks at you with empathy in her eyes.

"Y/N? Lets get something to eat before you decide to panic"

"Huh?"

Your visibly confused gaze shifts towards Guro.

"I just can't shake the feeling that something bad is about to happen..

" You say as you get up and Guro grabs your hand. The walk to the desk is so silent that you swear people could hear your thougts. The dishes are lined up. The first breakfast after breaks are always a big deal in the Chealsea household. Your stomach is growling for food, but all you feel is nausea. The feeling stings in you when your eyes meet the older lady. Her smile is so big and she looks so proud of her pancakes. You offer her a small smile. Reluctantly, you grab pancakes, some berries and a smoothie before you head back to the table.

At the table, the conversation is going like a whirlwind. Lucy is going on about how much she hates the cold while Sam is blabbering about the latest ring she got her partner. You stand out from the crowd, just quietly munching on the strawberries that you grabbed. The only thing you want to, is to go home and curl up in a small ball and die.

Jessie suddenly looks at Guro with a slight fright in her eyes. You look at both the girls moving your head from one side to the other. Jessie gulps. Guro gives Jessie an annoyed look. The annoyance and frustration is rapidly bulding up. You drop your fork down on your plate when your spot a familiar pair of eyes moving towards your table. Your heartrate skyrockets and you feel an instant need to throw up. Your hands go cold and you face goes red.

"Hey, im Leah and im excited to be your new teammate" she says with a stupid excited smirk on her face while reaching out her hand at you. You stare at her hand. If eyes could cut, she would be without hands.

Everyone goes silent. The whole room goes silent. Everyone saw what happend to your earlier. All of them saw the damage that was done. Everyones eyes are at you. You panic. Its a fight, freeze, flee moment. You want to yell at the top of your lungs. Cuss her out. Scream and cry and yell.

You stand up with your heart going crazy. You look Leah in her eyes. The rage is building up further. Jessie taps your hand. Your gaze meets hers. Then you look up at Leah again. You give her a stern look before you turn around and walk away. If she could walk away, why couldnt you?