#also if anyone has any ideas of what I should make next please tell me

[writerspirit]

Chapter I

Pairing(s): Melissa Schemmenti x Fem!Reader

Series: Schemmenti Family Agenda

Synopsis: After a student makes a comment to Y/n, Melissa takes into consideration what the next steps in your relationship should be.

Themes/Warnings: Fluff, Angst (please let me know if there are any warnings to be aware of)

A/N: I first wrote this part in an early morning surge of energy. I've already started on part two, so be on the lookout for that. I've also started an outline for an Agatha Harkness/Agnes x Fem!Reader w/ "magic baby" trope.

WC: ~ 2.15k

Having kids wasn’t something you thought to ever be on the agenda. It never was with you and Melissa. Both you and her being elementary teachers for Abbott, the only kids you two ever talked about “having” were your students. It has been a nice flow between you professionally. You being the other first grade teacher in the school, a good amount of kids in your class progress to your wife’s classroom in their following school year. These handful of kids are called by the other teachers as the “Double Schemmenti” kids, which you and Melissa find endearing.

These little aspects of your life at Abbott make being a teacher for these kids the best job anyone could ask for. Not to mention having the role of being these kids’ mentor, even sometimes their parent, is a gift in itself. So, whenever babies were a thought, it was more of a subtle whisper, rather than a thought-provoking idea.

That is until Melissa walks into your classroom after school one day to find you with one of your students playing with the deck of cards she so graciously lent for the room. 

“Hey, honey,” she smiles, making her way inside.

“Mrs. Schemmenti!” Aspen squeals. “Mrs. Schemmenti is teaching me how to play Kings in the Corner. It helps with my counting.”

“That’s great, sweetheart.” The redhead looks over at his hand and smiles. “Maybe next year you’ll be able to get a good grasp on poker so that you can beat all the chumps at the table.”

Aspen gives her a quizzical look. You, a furrow of the eyebrows, telling her to test the waters. She mouths a ‘sorry’ along with a low smile. Bringing her attention to your cards, she chuckles. “I don’t know, Mrs. Schemmenti. I think the kid’s hand is just enough to rattle you outta luck.”

Aspen’s smile turns to a little dance in place, in anticipation for his next move. 

You bring yourself to feign a sigh. “I think you might be right. I just can’t believe Aspen is so good already, and it’s his first time playing.”

Melissa shuffles back next to Aspen, who glances at her before she nods. “Take her down, kid.”

He rushes for a card before calculating his line of moves to play. With what seems to be one swift motion, his cards disappear from his hand and onto the floor with the others. “I got ya, Mrs. Schemmenti! Victory is mine!”

You giggle along with him. “You got me!” You and Melissa dance with him, doing your own little dances in place. Once he’s seemed to settle down from his victory dance, you help him pick up the cards.

“Why don’t you practice your shuffling while I talk with Mrs. Schemmenti?”

He nods. “Okay. I’ll go sit at my desk.”

“Okay.”

“He’s a quick little guy, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, he is. Smartest kid in the class. Maybe the smartest I’ve ever taught.” You peek at him, seeing if he’s focused on the cards in his hand, which he is. “His mom is working a little late today. The divorce hasn’t been easy for either of them, so I told her that I can stay with Aspen a little later than the allotted time for pickup.”

Melissa sighs. “Don’t I know it. Divorce is tough. I can’t imagine the added stress of having a child during the process.”

You quickly take a look at your watch. “You don’t have to wait up for me. Janine and Ava have step practice today, and I’m sure I can catch a ride with one of them if you want to go home. I know you have grading to get done.”

“I can wait here with you and the little guy. Grading can wait a little longer, and besides, I don’t want you catching a ride with either of ‘em as long as I’m here. I couldn’t live with myself if I knew I’d been responsible for another Janine car ride migraine.” Her lips perk up into a smile.

"I swear if I hear another lecture on the benefits of different colored highlighters, I’ll–"

“Mom!” Aspen squeals, getting out of his seat and running to his mother’s arms. She lays a soft kiss on his head.

“Hi, Aspen. How was school?” Dina’s eyes turn from his to yours. “Was he okay?”

You nod. “The little champ beat me in Kings in the Corner.”

“And I know how to shuffle now. So now I can help you when we play Uno.”

“Great job, honey. And I’m sure now you can help me beat Grandpa when he comes to visit next week.”

Aspen seemingly lights up brighter than before. “Grandpa’s coming? Yay!” He envelops her in a hug.

“Honey, why don’t you grab your things so I can talk to your mom?” Your eyes quickly glance at his belongings that sit on and around his desk. 

“I’ll give you two a minute.” Melissa moves towards Aspen. “I’ll help him get his things.”

“Thank you for everything. Really, you’re a lifesaver.” Dina lets a sigh leave her lips. “He’s really been doing great through this whole thing.”

“No disruptions, no problems. I wish I had his positive attitude all the time. And hey, don’t worry about it. I don’t mind getting beat at cards. He’s a smart kid.”

Dina smiles.

“I’m ready,” Aspen says. He walks up to meet his mother’s side, where she places a hand on his shoulder. “Mrs. Schemmenti?”

“Yes sweetheart?”

“You’re gonna make a great mom one day,” his smile widens before he says his goodbyes to you and Melissa. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay, kid. We’ll see ya,” Melissa adds. She turns to you. “Ready to go?”

“Mhm,” you grab your bag’s handle, but it’s quickly taken away from you when the older woman grabs it. “Melissa, I can carry my stuff.”

“I never said you couldn’t.” She smiles as you grab hold of her arm.

Walking out of Abbott, you both send smiles and your own goodbyes to a few colleagues. Your hand never strays from her arm, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“So what are you feeling like for dinner?” She asks.

“Are you asking because you feel like cooking, or are you asking me because you want to just order takeout?”

She chuckles. “I was actually asking because I could go for anything you wanted to cook.”

“Enchiladas, then.”

“Well, they’re your signature.” She places a kiss on your temple.

When you reach the car, she walks with you to the passenger’s side, opening the door for you. “My lady,” she smiles watching you take your seat. She hands you your bag, and closes the door.

You reach over to the door and pull the door handle for her. “Thank you, sweetie.”

“Anything for my girl,” you say. Her hand instinctively rests on your thigh as she starts the drive to your shared home. You move a hand to graze her arm.

“So,” Melissa starts up a new conversation when you hit upon a red light. “Aspen gave you a really nice compliment there, huh?”

“What?” You take a moment to think back. “Oh… yeah, he’s a really sweet kid. I hope you get to teach him next year. I mean he already loves you.”

Melissa turns the music up a bit, as your favorite song plays. While you’re jamming, she hums along, singing the words in her head. Unbeknownst to you, Melissa is thinking harder than she’d care to admit to about Aspen’s words. Had you given any thought to having a child of your own? She hasn’t expressed any interest in having a mini Melissa since she was younger, when her sister had her first baby.

As if the memory played out word for word, she remembers how crushed she was when, while holding her then baby nephew, Joe completely shut down the idea of growing their family. 

As if you know she needs a distraction of sorts, you speak up, taking her out of her thoughts. “Oh, honey, I think we need to stop at the grocery store. Is that okay with you?”

She nods and forces a smile for you.

– – – –

Melissa’s hand never leaves the small of your back while you push the cart. Along the journey of getting the ingredients necessary for your dinner, she looks around every aisle that you walk through. Almost finished with the aisle you two are currently in, you start your way towards the registers. As you wait in one of the lines, Melissa picks up bits of the couple’s conversation happening in front of her, talking about their excitement in welcoming their own bundle of joy in seven months. 

“Melissa?”

“Hm,” she turns her attention towards you.

“Is everything okay? You’ve been almost quiet since we left school. The only times I ever experience quiet Melissa is when you’re scheming. Well, that or you’re planning someone’s meeting with justice.”

“I’m fine, hon.” She places her hands on either side of your waist, and places a few light kisses on your temple. “I’m perfect.”

– – – –

“Amore,” she starts.

“Hm,” you hum, sipping your wine.

“Nothin’.”

“Baby,” you reach your hand and place it gently on her own. “What’s up?”

She has a glint in her eyes. One you’ve only seen two other times – when she was too nervous to ask you to be her girlfriend, and then again when she asked you to be her wife. By this, you know she has got something big on her mind.

“Don’t worry about it,” she says, her voice not leaving a low tone. She focuses her attention on her plate, trying to collect her thoughts.

“Okay…” you start. “But I will. You have the look.”

“What look?” Her eyes bounce to you, now wide, awaiting your response.

“You’ve only ever looked at me twice like that before, and both times they were because you had something big to get off your chest. Now please…” You place your hand on her thigh. “What is it, Melissa?”

“You ever thought about maybe… I don’t know… it’s just us here. And sometimes I feel it. The… space.”

You stay silent, trying to piece together what she’s going on about. Was she getting sick of you? Was this marriage too much for her? She doesn’t skip a beat though. Her rambling is starting to sound like she is convincing herself of something, in hopes you’ll say what’s bothering her, so she doesn’t have to. That’s when in the midst of your spacing out, there is only one sentence that makes you freeze.

“Maybe an addition to us wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

“You want to have a baby,” she can’t tell by your tone if you were stating it as if it were a fact, or rather forming it in a question. “Like… a baby.”

“No, wait, I didn’t say that,” her voice rises in pitch. “Per say.”

You wait a minute, in case she has more to say. “Okay…”

Crap! May day! May day! Retreat! Her thoughts tell her.

She downs the beer that is left in her bottle. Her hands grab for your plates and starts her way to the kitchen. “Just forget I said anything.”

“But, Melissa–”

“Please, just forget it, Y/n.”

– – – –

After dinner, you and Melissa snuggle up on the couch. Your face is nestled in her neck, giving soft kisses where you know she loves them. This would usually lead to you ravaging each other until the sunrise spills through your curtains. Tonight, however, doesn’t look like that is in the cards for you.

Your hand begins drawing patterns on her thigh, as you continue your kisses on her skin. “Your thoughts are loud tonight, my love.”

“Hon,” Melissa whispers, her voice almost impossible to hear over the television. As if on cue, the Dancing With the Stars theme sings for you. “Look, the show is starting.”

The rest of the night is much quieter than usual. Adding to your worry, Melissa doesn’t seem as enthusiastic about the episode as she usually is. There’s no yelling at the television, rarely a chuckle, and not even a snack to go with the episode.

As the episode ends, Melissa breathes a heavy sigh. “Ready for bed?”

You take a look at your phone which reads the time. “Yeah,” you say with simple directions. “Just… give me a minute and I’ll be up.”

She nods as she rises off the couch. She makes sure to place a gentle kiss on your cheek before heading upstairs.

At the sound of Melissa ascending the stairs, you quickly grab your phone. Opening your Contacts app, Barbara Howard’s phone number is already in view for you. With a second to think on a decision, a sigh leaves your lips, and the clicking of the power button shuts the device off.

Sleep on it. Whatever it is.

[runraerun]

hello yes I made these headers if anyone cares.

like and/or reblog if you use ‘em is all I ask.

[miley1442111]

jealous?- a.hotchner

a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

summary: aaron couldn't be jealous, right?

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

warnings: jealousy, heavy kissing, aaron is mean to spencer, not really cheating but kinda

Aaron truly didn’t mind keeping your relationship a secret.

He thought it was a good idea considering you two were only a few months in. As much as Aaron loved you, and you loved him, hiding it was a necessity. 

Right now? Aaron wanted to walk right up to you and kiss you so hard that the officer speaking to you finally got the message. The officer, John Davis had his hands on you, he kept talking to you, asking you dumb questions. Aaron could tell you were getting irritated, if he did what we wanted, he would be sure you wouldn’t mind. Though, workplace conduct also held him back. He was the unit chief after all. 

But what happened next shocked him. Shy little Spencer Reid walked up to you, wrapped and arm around your waist, and kissed you. 

What?

You were taken by surprise, but the officer just walked away feeling dejected. Spencer pulled back with an apologetic smile and cleared his throat, his face beet red.

“He wouldn’t leave you alone,” he shrugged, explaining his motivation behind kissing you. You just nodded, shocked that your best friend just kissed you.

“Spencer!” Aaron’s voice rang out through the room. Spencer’s head turned, a sickly feeling settling in his stomach. “Outside, now,” Aaron demanded. You sent Aaron a stern glance, silently asking him to not go too hard on Spencer. He didn’t return it. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What were you thinking?” Aaron demanded.

“Hotch, he wouldn’t leave her alone- I- what was I supposed to do?” Spencer attempted to add reasoning onto the sudden display, though a part of him deep down knew that he liked you as more than just a friend. 

“Get. Me,” Aaron deadpanned. “If you have an issue with the officers or anyone on a case you need to get me or Jj, she’s our liaison, I’m the Unit Chief,” he growled. “I thought you’d remember that, Spencer.”

“Hotch please, you know that guy wouldn’t have went away-” 

“Do I really have to babysit you?” Aaron was just being mean now. You were walking outside to them both anyways, Penelope had another break in the case. 

“Aaron,” you sighed, standing beside Spencer. “Stop being mean.”

Aaron’s body language changed immediately. He shut up. 

“Penelope has something, you head in Spencer, yeah?” You smiled at Spencer and he nodded and went inside. “What the fuck are you playing at Aaron?”

Aaron sighed, then grabbed your waist and pulled you in to kiss him. This wasn’t like any kiss before. It was heavy, passionate and all-consuming. You smiled into it.

“No one,” a kiss to your lips. “Should,” another kiss. “Kiss,” another kiss. “My,” another kiss. “Girlfriend,” he finished it off with a longer kiss, allowing his hands to travel and squeeze your ass, knowing it usually makes you open your mouth in surprise. Your gasp was swallowed by his lips as he pushed his tongue into your mouth, every attempt you made at pulling away was stopped by his large hands. 

“Baby-” breathed in between kisses as his lips latched onto your neck. “The team, they’ll see us-” 

“Fuck the team,” he said breathlessly. It clicked. 

“You’re jealous,” you stated, a small smirk on your face, Aaron rolled his eyes.

“It doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out,” he tried to capture your lips again but you stopped him.

“You have nothing to be jealous of. Spencer is my friend, that's it,” You smiled, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. 

“Honey-”

“Let’s go back inside, yeah?” You smiled and he grabbed your hand, reluctantly following behind you. You dropped his hand as you walked into the conference room with the rest of the team, but Aaron felt better. 

You were his. He was yours. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

criminal minds masterlist :)

[writeonwhiskey]

the skz house: ch 30 (18+)

a/n: the word count for this chapter is 6090. and my editor is enjoying the trip of a lifetime, so please forgive any typos! also, at certain parts it may feel a little choppy, but i wanted to provide brief glimpses into what each day of y/n's last week is like.

[ read chapter 29 here ]

Chapter Thirty: Of Rainy Days and Goodbyes

TUESDAY – Five Days Left

The following morning you wake up surprised to hear the rain still coming down with a vengeance outside. Chan has one arm wrapped around your shoulder, holding you against him. With your head resting on his chest, you take the moment to appreciate the view from your vantage point—his chiseled abdomen. From the steady rise and fall of his chest, you can tell he’s asleep.

You both needed last night to happen.

As damaging as his behavior has been, you at least now have a better understanding of what he was trying to do. Protect himself. Seeing it from his perspective, the one time he’s allowed himself to feel this way about anyone, it ends up like this. The pain and hurt he must have felt is different from what you experienced. You’re not denying that it was cruel and hurtful to you in other ways, but you don’t want to hold it against him too harshly. He was acting, unironically, as a wounded wolf.

You bring your hand up and lightly run it down his chest, then trace the lines of his abs causing him to flinch. His hand shoots up from beneath the blanket covering your lower halves and grabs hold of yours.

“Stop. That tickles,” he warns, still half asleep.

You pull your hand away and resume running your fingers along his exposed skin.

“You’re just all around disobedient now, aren’t you?” he asks with a touch of playfulness.

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with it a few hours ago,” you reply.

“That’s fair…I didn’t mind it as much as I thought I would.”

“Ah. Progress,” you muse, to which he lowers his hand from your shoulder and lightly smacks your ass. “We should probably get up.”

“I don’t wanna.”

“You want to stay in bed all day?”

“Why not? We can skip class,” he shrugs.

You try to sit up, but he puts his hand on your waist to keep you from moving.

“Stay here with me.”

“What time is it?” you ask.

He lets out a yawn and grabs his phone from the nightstand. He holds it directly in front of you so you can see the time—8:30am. There’s a weather alert and a few missed text messages displayed on the screen; he punches in his passcode, either oblivious or not caring if you see. You realize you’ve never seen his phone like this before and catch a quick glimpse of Berry as his background before he opens his messages. Among the list of texts, you spot your name with a doctor emoji next to it and can’t stop the smile that spreads across your face.

The text he opens is an alert from the school.

Due to inclement weather, classes are

canceled today. Please stay safe and

beware of flash flood areas.

“Well, would you look at that,” he releases his hand from your waist, allowing you to sit up. “Looks like we can’t go anywhere, anyways.”

You smile down at him wistfully—you are happy for the excuse to spend more time with him, but also strikingly sad that you finally have this Chan back now that you’re leaving.

“Should I go make us some breakfast?” you ask, feeling a sudden need for a little space to shed a tear in private.

“No. I don’t want you to leave my side today.” 

“Chan,” you shake your head as the tears swell in your eyes.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, y/n,” he says immediately. “What did I do? What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” you shrug helplessly.

He sits up, too, and moves you around until you’re sitting directly in front of him. He hooks each of your legs over his thighs before pulling you to him. He then cups your face in his hands and uses the pads of his thumbs to wipe your fallen tears away.

“I know what you’re thinking, because I’m thinking it too,” he tells you. “I know this could have all been so different. You have no idea how much I regret it.”

“This fucking sucks,” you say, resting your forehead on his shoulder as he rubs your bare back.

“I know, I know,” he tries to soothe you. “I don’t have enough time to properly make it up to you, either, but I want to try. No pretend fiancé bullshit, I just want to genuinely spend the time we have left being happy with you.”

“Will that be enough?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I had my heart set on forever with you, y/n. Even if you stayed the last two months, it wouldn’t have been enough.”

He has an incredible way of causing your heart to soar while simultaneously making you want to ram your head against a brick wall. All you can do at this point is hope he has learned a valuable lesson that may be of use in his future.

“You’re capable of saying some really romantic shit when you want to, you know,” you say, lifting your head from his shoulder.

He leans forward and places a quick peck on your lips without responding. He picks up his phone, unlocks it again and opens an app before handing it over to you.

“Let’s order breakfast for the house.”

You awkwardly take the phone in your hand—it feels like some sort of newly appointed privilege—and navigate through the food delivery app until you find the place everyone routinely orders from. Thankfully it’s not too far from the house, so the driver shouldn’t have any trouble delivering it in this weather. Chan leans back against the pillows, resting his hands on your thighs as he watches you. By now, you know what to order for every single person. The total comes out to a whopping $250, plus a generous tip for the driver. You hand his phone back when you’re done, he grabs it and tosses it aside on the bed.

“Shower?” he asks.

You hardly start to nod before he’s already cupping your ass and sliding you both off the bed. You hook your legs around his waist and hold on to his neck as he carries you to the bathroom. You didn’t think you’d get to have a moment like this with him again.

For all the drama leading up to this, and the impending devastation in a few days, you can’t shake the thought that this still feels right.

In the kitchen, you’re seated between Hyunjin and Chan while everyone eats breakfast. Beneath the table, Chan has draped your leg closest to him across his lap—he eats with one hand and caresses your leg with the other. He really hasn’t let you leave his side all morning, you haven’t been further than his arm’s reach.

Hyunjin seems to notice the change between you and Chan, too. He offers you a wink and kisses your cheek, leaving sticky syrup residue behind to which you feign annoyance. You’re far from annoyed right now. You’re incredibly content.

After breakfast, when everyone disperses throughout the house, you spend a while hopping around to where clusters of people are hanging out. This rainy day could not have come at a better time. You were worried you wouldn’t have enough free time to spend with everyone.

That’s the reasoning you give to Chan when he tries to pull you back upstairs. He begrudgingly nods in understanding, saying he’ll come find you in a bit.  

You make your way down to the basement and join Felix, Seungmin and Allie in playing video games. Seungmin teases Felix mercilessly each time he loses—and even when he wins, saying he took it easy on him. Allie tries to mediate to no avail. You’re going to miss frustrated gaming Felix. As kindhearted and delicate as he is, that’s the only time you’ve seen him anything close to angry. When you leave back upstairs, Seungmin is laying on the floor, cackling while Felix straddles his waist, pretending to strangle him.

In the workout room, you bother Jeongin and Changbin. You talk casually for a bit before resorting to playfully mocking them as they lift weights, staring at themselves in the mirror.

“I could have sworn your arms were bigger last week,” you tease Jeongin. “Maybe my eyes are deceiving me.”

“You should get them checked out—nothing but gains over here,” he flexes and brings his bicep to his mouth to kiss.

Truthfully, you’ve seen how much he’s grown physically from the start of the year. He seemed so quiet and reserved, all those months ago when he helped you out with your fashion aversion. You’ll always be thankful to him for that.

“No teasing my protégé,” Changbin defends him. “Either hop on a machine or get out.”

“Okay, okay,” you hold your hands up, slowly backing out of the room.  

As you interact with everyone it starts to set in, little by little, how alone you’ll be when you move out. Going from living with eleven others to being completely on your own? It will certainly be an adjustment. The reality of that hasn’t truly sunken in yet.

Next, you head to the den to find Charlotte but immediately regret your decision when you walk in on her riding the fuck out of Han in her computer chair while moaning, “It’s so big, Hannie.”

They both pause for a moment, seeing you there at the door.

“S-sorry,” you squeak out.

Han hides his face behind her long, curly hair and she just giggles as you promptly exit and shut the door behind you. You can’t run away fast enough, stopping only when you reach the safety of the living room. You plop yourself down on the couch to watch Hyunjin get his ass beat in chess by Lee Know.

“Have you heard the word ‘pabo’, y/n?” Lee Know asks, taking another one of Hyunjin’s pieces as you shake your head.

Hyunjin rolls his eyes.

“It means fool…or stupid.”

Those aren’t the words you would choose to describe Hyunjin. You’d have to disagree. He’s simply wise in his own way.

“Don’t listen to him—he has an unfair advantage. He’s basically a grand wizard or whatever.”

“Grandmaster,” Lee Know corrects. “See? Pabo. And that’s checkmate.”

You laugh as Hyunjin lets out an annoyed sigh before coming to join you on the couch.

“I was waiting for you to come back here,” Lee Know says, “How about that announcement now?”

You feel yourself shrinking into the couch at the thought, but slowly nod your head. Lee Know loudly calls out for everyone to come to the living room, and you don’t feel prepared for what is about to come. Outside of you, Hyunjin and Chan, everyone else seems confused about what’s going on.

Hyunjin has one arm slung around your shoulder, holding you to him for comfort, and Han takes the empty spot on your other side. You can’t help but notice how heavily he’s breathing and you know exactly what caused it.

“Is this going to take long?” Jeongin quips, looking in desperate need of a shower after his workout.

“If I want it to,” Lee Know replies smugly, lifting one shoulder in a half shrug.

Jeongin rolls his eyes and Lee Know clears his throat, waiting for the chatter to die down. In the moment of silence, all you can hear is the sound of the rain pouring outside.

“I have an announcement to make,” he says. “This doesn’t happen often here, and not typically with such short notice.”

You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to you when he says that.

“One of our assignees will be leaving the SKZ house earlier than planned.”

The others all look around at each other, confused expressions on their faces.

“Y/n,” Lee Know continues, “has given us her notice, and will be moving out on Sunday.”

A chorus of “What?”, “Why?”, and “Are you serious?” echo throughout the room as everyone turns to stare at you. You force a small smile and nod, wanting to appear strong and confident.

“It’s not required of her to tell us why—she has the freedom to make this choice. All of you do. None of you are hostages here,” Lee Know attempts to quiet their hushed whispers. “We’ve enjoyed having you, y/n, some more than others, I’m sure.”

He gives a pointed look to Hyunjin and Chan and you feel the blood rush to your cheek. You, and everyone in this house, knows exactly how much sex takes place within it’s walls. And yet, after all this time you still feel shy to have it broadcast so openly.

“But we will all miss you,” he concludes with a curt bow in your direction.

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

Silence fills the room again—you hadn’t anticipated how awkward this would be. It feels like you’ve put a damper on the overall vibe of the day.

“It’s Changbin’s fault, isn’t it?” Seungmin jokes, pointing at the accused culprit.

Changbin scrunches up his face in confusion as everyone laughs, including you. You spare a glance over at Chan and see even he’s smiling, too. You’re thankful for Seungmin’s uncanny ability to ease the tension of any situation with his impeccable comedic timing.

As quickly as they were surprised about the news, they move on just as fast. Ironically, that’s probably how they must approach this whole situation. They’re probably sad when the year ends and they have to say their goodbyes…but ultimately, it’s what’s expected of them. There’s no reason for them to linger in the murkiness of it all.

“That was all—you’re dismissed,” Lee Know flicks his hands, shooing everyone away.

You feel a hand grab hold of yours and look up to see Rhiannon standing in front of you.

“To the den?”

You nod and stand, leaving Hyunjin’s side to follow her with the other girls trailing close behind. The four of you enter the den and sit in your papasans. You notice the ceiling fan is now spinning, more than likely a result of Han and Charlotte’s attempt to air out the room after their tryst.

“Are you okay?” Allie asks when you’re all situated.

“Yeah…I’ll be alright,” you reply. “I’m just finding the responsibilities of staying here to be a lot and need to focus on my studies. I’m going into a vet program that starts right after the semester ends and need to prepare for it.”

It’s not a total lie—you do have to prepare for vet school, but it’s not the real reason you’re leaving.

Allie eyes you carefully, after that explanation. She’d already picked up on what was happening between you and Chan. Rhiannon and Charlotte seem to believe it, though, from the understanding looks on their faces.

“Should we have a going away party?” Charlotte asks.

“Dear God, no,” you shake your head vigorously. “That moment in the living room was more than enough.”

“I wonder what happens next,” Rhiannon muses aloud. “It would be weird having someone else here.”

Your stomach starts to knot up at the thought. Chan did mention, at the beginning of the school year, that someone else would take your place if you ever left. That hadn’t been at the forefront of your mind throughout this but the queasy feeling it gives you isn’t enough to make you regret your decision. Whether you stay or go, both Chan and Hyunjin will eventually move on to someone else. And you will, too.

You remain in the den with the girls for a little while longer. The subject eventually changes from you leaving to some of the memories you’ve all shared with the members. You never thought you’d become so close to these three women and were admittedly concerned there would be drama. But there never was. You all managed to get along and take care of these boisterous men with no issues.

You spend the evening upstairs with Chan, cuddled together in his bed. He mocks being hurt that you spent so much time away from him during the day. You push him on his back and straddle his waist, removing your shirt as you tell him you’re his for the rest of the night. He stops complaining after that.

WEDNESDAY

Outside of going to class, you and Chan spend the entire day together. You start packing your belongings and putting them into suitcases, gym bags, and a couple of boxes. He takes you out to dinner, and afterwards the two of you drive aimlessly around the city. Neither of you mention anything about it being your last night together but the reality of it lingers in the air. He holds your hand as he drives and asks you for a kiss at damn near every red light.

When you’re back at the house and in his room, his mouth is on yours before the door fully closes.

It's a perfect night.

THURSDAY

The fact that you’re leaving Sunday really starts to sink in. This is the final mid-week switch, now that you’re back with Hyunjin. The conversation at dinner is lively, but you find yourself remaining quiet most of the time, just sitting back, smiling and observing. Chan lays his hand down on the table, palm up, and looks at you pointedly. You bare a sheepish grin as you place your hand on top of his and he laces your fingers together. Hyunjin claims a spot on your thigh, palming it as he eats.

You have to keep reminding yourself to enjoy these moments, in the present. You can’t focus too much on what’s to come, or you’ll spend all the time you have left bawling.

After dinner, you and Hyunjin cuddle up in his bed and watch a movie on his laptop for old times’ sake. You don’t even make it halfway through before he starts kissing you. He takes his time undressing you—there’s no rush, so he draws everything out for as long as he can. He’s slow and methodical. He’s loving and gentle. He’s everything you ever needed him to be.

FRIDAY

In the evening, Hyunjin helps you start to pack your things in his room. Your vision is blurred as you zip up a gym bag stuffed full of shoes. Hyunjin comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, sensing your sadness.

“It’ll all be okay,” he reassures you.

“Did I make the right choice?” you ask, turning around to face him.

“I can’t answer that,” he replies. “But depending how you choose to take on each day moving forward, you can make it the right choice for you.”

You look up at him with a slight pout, tugging on his shirt.

“What am I gonna do without your words of encouragement?”

He takes a deep breath and lets out a long sigh. He doesn’t answer that question. There isn’t much he can say. He will never be around to comfort you again. You both know this.

He cups your face and leans down to place a delicate kiss to your forehead, then square on the lips. You wrap your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss, seeking more from him, and he happily obliges.

You don’t want to leave Hyunjin’s arms or his bed, but he convinces you to go down to the basement. He tells you you’ll regret not spending more time with everyone else if you don’t. And he’s right.

He holds your hand as you walk down the steps and as soon as the basement room comes into view, a loud chorus of “SURPRISE!” fills the room. You shoot daggers at a grinning Charlotte. She’s obviously proud of her handiwork.

Though you specifically did not want this to happen, you start smiling, too. There’s a ‘WE’LL MISS YOU’ banner hanging across from the pool table, balloons, streamers, and every single member and assignee in this house that you’ve been dreading having to say goodbye to.

The atmosphere of this going away party makes it a little easier. At some point, you find yourself on the couch, seated in Chan’s lap. He doesn’t hold back, touching and kissing you in front of the others. You embrace his rare public display of affection. You realize this is the closest you’ll get with him again, since you’re with Hyunjin tomorrow night as well.

The thought starts to sadden you, but when Jeongin pulls out the karaoke machine it’s a welcome distraction. You keep up your brave face and smile, willing yourself to enjoy the night and make a few final memories with this group you’ve come to cherish for all its unorthodox, familial chaos.

SATURDAY – One Day Left

You finish packing everything in Hyunjin’s room and the den. You spend the afternoon with the girls, and everyone eventually convenes in the backyard for dinner. It’s the first semi-warm day of the season. You can’t help reminiscing about your first time back here, your first time in the pool…the hot tub with Chan and Hyunjin. You’ve experienced so much in the past seven months. If the version of yourself that arrived at this house could see you know…she wouldn’t even recognize you.

When you make it back to Hyunjin’s room, you find him waiting on the edge of his bed. He beckons you to him and you stand between his legs.

“This is it, huh?” he says.

“Unfortunately,” you reply with a frown.

“How are you holding up?”

“I’m okay, all things considered.”

“Good,” he stands from the bed and wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you in for a hug.

He typically holds you from your waist, so this hug allows you to burrow yourself into him. He holds on to you for what feels like forever, and you’re in no rush to break the embrace either.

“I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

“What?” you ask, leaning back to look up at him.

“You should spend your last night with Chan,” he tells you. “I mean, I’d gladly have you here, don’t get me wrong. But I think you should go to him.”

He’s literally the most selfless person on the planet.

“Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent.”

You stand on your tiptoes and kiss him on the lips.

“Thank you,” you tell him.

“Go,” he urges, pecking you on the lips once more.

You let out a deep breath and step away from him. He nods his head in encouragement as you back away towards the door. You exit his room and make your way up to the third floor at the speed of light. You don’t even bother knocking on Chan’s door, you just burst right in.

You hear the shower water running and see his empty bed. You close the door softly behind you and tiptoe across the room. You sit on the bed, on top of the covers, upright with your back against the pillows. As you wait, you contemplate hiding somewhere to scare him, but then a better idea crosses your mind.

You lean over to open his nightstand drawer and quietly fish around for the pair of handcuffs you bought. You leave them on the bed and then go to your packed bags to retrieve the collar he gifted you. You hook it around your neck before removing your shirt, then bottoms and underwear. You grab the handcuffs from the bed, lock it around your left hand, then place your arms behind your back to lock in your right hand.

You lower yourself to the ground in the middle of the archway separating the bedroom and bathroom. The shower water turns off just as you’re situating yourself—seated with your legs beneath you. You straighten your back, eyes on the shower door as you wait for him to exit.

You’ll remember the sight of him stepping out of the shower for as long as you live. Droplets of water still falling down every part of his body; dark, black curls drenched and sticking to his forehead. As soon as he steps onto the mat, he catches sight of you and freezes.

His eyes look you up and down and you can see his cock visibly react.

“What are you doing here?” he inquires.

“Spending my last night with you.”

He fully steps out of the shower and closes the door behind him. He reaches for his towel, but then reconsiders. He leaves it hanging on the rack and walks slowly towards you. You’re torn on where to look—every exposed inch of him is delectable. You involuntarily start to squirm as he comes to a stop in front of you.

“Be still,” he instructs, and you immediately stop moving.

He stands above you, hands at his side, still just staring. The water dripping down from his hair lands on you, hitting your face, your breasts, your thighs. Each drop makes you anxious for his touch.

“Hyunjin?” he asks.

“It was his idea—well, not all of it,” you look down at your naked body, then back up at him. “But he wanted me to be with you tonight.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, and you can only imagine he’s feeling any equal amount of love and adoration for Hyunjin right now, too.

Chan grabs a hold of the messy bun in your hair, pulling back on it and forcing you to look up at him. He takes his cock in his other hand, guiding it towards your mouth and you lick your lips in anticipation.

“You’re all mine, then?”

He was the first to have you in this house and now he’ll be the last.

“Yes,” you nod.

You open your mouth to take his cock inside when he presses it against your lips.

He shoves it in, gripping your hair tightly as you relax your jaw to take in as much of him as you can—until you’re literally gagged. When he feels your resistance, he eases up, withdrawing with a groan, seeing your saliva coating his cock.

“You look so good like this, y/n,” he tells you, slowly withdrawing again. “Sucking my cock.”

He repeats the process several times, and you keep your eyes trained on his face. He’s torn between staring back at you and watching himself fuck your face. Like he can’t choose which is more desirable.

He reaches down with his hand and loops a finger through the heart of the collar. He tugs on it and you slowly get to your feet. He releases your hair and without any direction, you turn towards the counter and bend at the hips over it. The marble is cold against your torso and your face is dangerously close to the mirror, each exhale fogging it up a little. You lock eyes with him and wiggle your ass.

He stands at your side, one hand palming your ass as the other pulls at the collar.

“This right here,” he smacks your ass, “is what drives me crazy the most.”

He caresses the spot he just hit, then slips his fingers between your legs.

“You’re such a good girl. No one could ever guess by just looking at you—but I know,” he rubs his fingers along your slit. “I know this side of you—wet, dripping, needing my cock.”

You moan as he slides two fingers inside. He leans onto the counter as he fucks you with his fingers, putting his head directly next to yours. You turn to face him. His lust filled eyes cool off ever so slightly with his next words.

“Thank you for sharing it with me.”

“Chan—” his lips crash against yours and cut you off.

As soon as his tongue invades your mouth, you can’t even recall what you were even going to say. You kiss him back, rocking your hips against his hand. Suddenly, he removes his fingers and smacks you on the ass again, leaving it wet from your own juices.

He continues smacking your ass, taking a turn on each cheek. He turns your chin to make you face the mirror before grabbing hold of your bun again. He pulls back on it, and you arch your back, lifting up from the counter slightly, your hard nipples just barely grazing the countertop.

“You love this, don’t you?” he coaxes, slipping his fingers back inside of you.

You try to nod your head but can’t move it too much.

“Don’t you?” he repeats.

“Yes,” you whimper.

“With me?” he takes his fingers out to rub your clit, causing you to squirm against his hand.

“Yes.”

“Only me?”

You’ve certainly never been like this with anyone before and you simply don’t know what the future holds. You don’t know if anyone else can bring it out of you. You don’t know if you want anyone else to. You lock eyes with him through the mirror again before replying with an unwavering—

“Yes.”

He lets go of your hair and positions himself behind you, you remain hovering over the counter. He grips your hip with one hand, and your cuffed hands with the other as he lines himself up at your opening. As soon as the tip is inside, you can’t help yourself. You moan as you push back against him, taking him fully inside and catching him off guard.

“Fuuuuck,” he moans.

And then he’s off, thrusting into your pussy, quite literally, like it’s the last time.

And it feels so good.

He takes a tiny step to the side to adjust the angle of his thrusts and you let out a loud moan as his cock continually pushes against the most sensitive part of your body. His hand leaves the cuffs to grab a handful of your breast, pinching the nipple between his thumb and pointer finger.

“Chan, wait—I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” he urges you.

You don’t need to hear anything besides that. You close your eyes and focus on the way he’s making your body feel. Your orgasm crashes through you as you cry out in pleasure, pushing your hips back against him with fervor.

When your legs start to tremble, he slows down his pace to a stop. He takes a step back, pulling on the handcuffs so that you do, too. He walks you towards his bed and gives you a light push onto it. He grabs your legs, pulling you down to the edge before dropping to his knees behind you.

Both of his hands palm your ass, pulling your cheeks apart before his mouth latches on to your pussy.

“Fuck, Chan—the cuffs,” you plead, wanting nothing more than to touch him now.

He pays no attention to your words, instead continuing to focus on the feast in front of him. He laps, licks, and fucks you with his tongue until you come again, right on his face. You force your head into the mattress to muffle your screams as your entire body shakes.

You feel him move away from you; your face still buried in the mattress as you embrace the moment of calm. You hear him open the nightstand drawer then he returns to stand behind you.

“I should leave you like this…” he trails off.

“You’re going to hold me captive forever?”

“I would, if you’d let me.”

He unlocks the cuffs and removes them. You turn around to face him and rub your freed wrists.

“But I’ll settle for the next twelve hours.”

You arch an eyebrow at him as he advances towards you, crawling on top of you until you’re forced to lay down on the bed. You hook your legs around his waist, arms around his neck, and pull him down for another kiss.

You feel his cock hardening again between your legs and rock your hips up against it.

“You planning to keep me awake that long?” you ask teasingly.

He chuckles, lining himself up at your entrance.

“Absolutely.”

He thrusts inside of you, and his lips land on yours again.

This time it’s slow and soft and quiet.

This time it’s love.

SUNDAY

True to his word, Chan keeps you up for most of the night. At times you lay there, cuddled together and talking about whatever comes to mind. Other times, either of you start touching and teasing the other, then you’re right back to fucking.

As the sun begins to rise, you reason with him that you need at least a few hours of sleep to get through what will be a long, tenuous day of moving and unpacking. He agrees, and you fall asleep in his arms until your alarm goes off at 9:30am.

You quietly slip out of the bed and take a quick shower. It feels surreal. Your last shower in Chan’s room. Halfway through, the door opens, and he steps in to join you. You hold each other in silence, for the most part, standing under the spout.

After your shower, you make sure everything you own is packed up. You join the others for a solemn feeling breakfast and by 12:00pm, a large, black SUV arrives to pick you up. All the boys help put your bags and boxes inside while you stay in the house, hugging the other assignees goodbye. You then hug six of the eight members, telling them you’ll miss them as you hold back your tears.

Your stomach is in knots as Hyunjin and Chan walk you to the car. Your mind, your heart, your everything is spinning. Hyunjin holds your hand, keeping your grounded, as Chan walks a few paces behind the two of you.

Once you reach the car, Hyunjin pulls you in for a hug while Chan walks around to the driver’s window to speak to him, but you’re not sure what he says. Hyunjin kisses you firmly on the cheek before opening the rear passenger door for you.

“I left something for you, it’s under my bed,” you tell him.

He arches an eyebrow.

“You thought I’d forget your birthday?”

He shrugs, “I figured you had more important things on your mind.”

“More important than you?” you scoff playfully, “Don’t insult me, Hyunjin.”

He laughs and embraces you once more.

“Be good. Be happy,” he says, stepping out of the way to make room for Chan.

You and Chan just stare at each other for a moment before he comes to you and embraces you. He wraps his arms around you, squeezing so tightly you can hardly breathe. You have a fleeting thought that you don’t want to anymore—every breath you take from here on out will be without him in your life. Without any of them.

You lean back and tilt your head up towards him, eyes brimming with tears. He places a hand on the back of your head and kisses you on the forehead before stepping back. You push aside the fear and alarm bells ringing in your head as you climb into the car and roll down the window, waving to Hyunjin and the others standing at the front door. Chan is still right next to the car, a soft reassuring smile on his lips but his eyes reflect the havoc you’re feeling inside, too.

“You ready, miss?” the driver asks.

“Yes,” you nod, sitting back in the seat.

“Wait,” Chan calls out, stepping forward again.

He comes to the open window, and you lean forward to speak to him.

“Take care of yourself for me, ok?” he says.

You silently nod in response.

He grabs a hold of your head with both hands and smashes his mouth against yours. You forget about the driver being less than two feet away and kiss him back. It’s passionate, it’s sad, it somehow feels promising and that just makes it all hurt worse. You’re both left breathless when he finally breaks the kiss.

He’s still holding your head as he leans towards your ear and whispers three words that send you reeling. He pulls away, taps on the car door and gives a nod to the driver. As he puts the car into drive, you give one last look to Chan before rolling up the window. As soon as the car takes off you dissolve into a puddle of tears.

You don’t know what he means by what he said, and you know even less what would possess him to say it. And so, his last words will haunt you for quite some time.

“This isn’t over.”

[ read chapter 31 here ]

a/n: i feel at a loss for words, myself. how are we feeling? i'm here for you! two more chapters left. the next one is lengthy as well, so be prepared haha

[obvi-the-best-soph]

we're all bound to break. (chapter 2)

alexia putellas masterlist: here requests: here

based on this request: R tells alexia about her parents but makes alexia promise not to tell the team. alexia agrees of r agrees to speak to the team psychologist/ try and improve her eating and general health. either the team find out through social media or listening to r in an interview getting mad/ upset about a question about her parents. r blames alexia for telling people bc she hasn’t told anyone else. alexia comforts her + happy ending

word count: 2,123k

summary: you tell the team about your mami and papa, alexia helps you through it, an interviewer asks a tough question, and you're paid a visit from someone who is less than friendly.

genre: angst/comfort warnings: disordered eating, mentions of vomiting, death of parents, swearing, grief, struggling alone, eating while recovering from an ed, possibly very bad spanish (sorry! i try lol).

chapter 1: here

a/n: hey! ive had a lot of requests for chapter two of this story, its taken me a while because i didn't really get any requests and i was struggling for ideas, so it has taken a month, but the long awaited second chapter is here! i didn't really follow the request too closely, but I think it turned out alright, hope you do too. requests are always open. <3 :D

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“Superestrella, we need to talk. There’s something wrong, and you’re going to tell me what it is.”

You froze. You assumed there were still tear tracks down your cheeks, your eyes still bloodshot, and clearly, Alexia knew something was wrong. But she didn’t seem to know what.

“I- uh- what? There’s nothing wrong. Just… tired is all.” You try to explain, stuttering out an awful and clearly fake excuse. “You look tired too, maybe you should go to bed and we can talk later?”

“No,” Alexia states firmly, sitting down on your bed next to you. “Chica it smells like sick in here, have you thrown up?” she asks skeptically, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Well not really, I think I just ate something bad earlier, it was only a little bit-” You attempt to lie again, but she cuts you off. 

“Stop bullshitting me amor, just tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it,” she says. That’s the thing, Alexia’s a problem solver, a bit like a man, just wanting to fix everything for everyone so we can all be happy with no problems, but she couldn't fix this. Mami is dead. Papi is dead. They are gone. You can’t undo death, no matter how hard you try.

After nearly 20 minutes of back and forth, “There’s something wrong.” “No, there’s not, I’m fine,” Alexia pulls out the big guns, completely oblivious and unaware of how big they are now.

“Superestrella, if you don’t tell me, I’ll have to call your parents and you’ll have to talk to them. Please, just tell me, I only want to help. I hate seeing you so introverted and quiet all the time, I miss your laugh, guapa.”

And with that, the guns are fired, and the dam is broken. You burst into another round of tears, burying yourself into Alexia’s side, head on her chest. Between sobs, you manage to get out the words,

“You can’t help! No one can help! It’s all ruined!”

before falling asleep from the effort of crying and earlier, denial. Now, Alexia is seriously worried.

Alexia lets you sleep on her for a moment before carefully manoeuvring you to lie down and slipping out of your room. Once in the lounge area, she sits down on the edge of the couch, resting her elbows on her knees, face in her hands. Her thinking position, because she was thinking pretty fucking hard right now. What on Earth had happened? What had gone wrong to make her happy, giggly, pestering Superestrella, so- so…. Broken?

Finally, she decides to call Mapi, she knows that Mapi was out late celebrating last night too, and is probably also dealing with a killer hangover, similar to Alexia’s currently, but she deems this important enough to warrant a call.

The phone rings three times before a very croaky-voiced, tired, and generally-recovering-from-being-completely-plastered sounding, María León is heard;

“What Alexia?” 

“Mapi, sorry, I know now probably isn’t the best time, but… it’s Y/N, she-”

Before Alexia can even get a word of an explanation in, a now far more awake and alert sounding defender is cutting her off, clearly very worried, “Chica? What about her? Is she- is she okay? What’s wrong?”

That morning, it was organised that at training in a few days, Lucy, Keira, Alexia, Mapi and Ingrid would sit you down after training, and you would talk.

It’s been a couple of days since the Champions League final, most members of the team are still on the winning high, while others are starting to settle a bit, but today is the first training back since the big game. You go about training as normal, struggling your way through it with next to no will to live and an empty stomach, but when you’re in the locker room, Alexia taps you on the shoulder. You two haven't spoken much since the other morning after her night of celebrations.

“Hey, a few of us just want to have a quick meeting with you before we go today, sí?” she says, her tone softer, more gentle, than usual. 

You nod awkwardly and finish changing before heading to the meeting room Alexia had told you to meet at, only to find 5 of your teammates sat there, watching you like you’re a Porcelain doll that could shatter at any second, and that was slightly true. 

“Um, hola Todas?” (Hello everyone.) you say with slight suspicion, eyeing them one by one as you slowly sit down in a chair at the long glass table. There’s a collective murmur of “Hello”s in various languages before it goes quiet again. Alexia speaks up first;

“Superestrella, we’ve all noticed something is wrong, and we just want to help. Truly, that’s all we want. You are usually all sunshine and rainbows, but recently you have been walking around like you have rocks in your pockets and a storm cloud over your head. Por favor niña, déjanos entrar. (Please girl, let us in.)” she says in a slightly pleading tone, the other women are all looking at you sympathetically. 

“I- nothing is wrong. I’m just… uh… tired! I am tired. We have been training a lot recently so I haven’t been feeling the best recently! That’s it. Si. Estoy cansada. (I’m tired.)” you reply quickly, desperate to get out of here and back into bed so you can continue wallowing your sadness and grief, alone. 

They all give you soft, yet slightly unimpressed, looks of ‘Come on. We all know that’s not it.’

“Chica-” Mapi starts, but she’s cut off by Lucy’s thick accent,

“Y/N please, let us in. You know we would never judge you or anything like that, we just want to help, as Alexia said. Teammates are here to support you off the pitch just as much as on it.”

“Yeah, what Lucy said. We love you like a little sister, Y/N, and we’re worried about you.” Keira adds. 

A collective nod and hum of agreement spread through the room. You sigh. It was getting harder and harder to pretend. 

“I- ugh. Okay. Fine. There is something wrong.” You finally relent, the lump already forming in your throat, the familiar glass returning to your eyes. The 5 women around you perk up a bit, glad you’re starting to open up, even if it’s only a little.

“What is Cari? (Cariño- sweetheart.)” Ingrid speaks up for the first time, her accent thick as always. 

“It’s… it’s my parents.” They frown. They knew how close you were with your parents, especially your papa, so what could be wrong that has to do with them? You close your eyes and take a deep breath, tears falling silently down your cheeks, you’d gotten good at crying quietly, preparing to voice the words aloud for the first time. To make it all real.

“They- they’re- they- died. Dead. Gone.” you open your eyes to find 5 women staring at you in horror, eyes wide, mouths open, and sympathetic looks from them all. But it was Alexia’s face that made the tears fall, she was the only one who knew how you really felt, who truly understood. It was her arms that you felt around you first, she didn’t say anything, she just held you for a while.

After a few moments, you spoke up again, your voice a little more steady this time.

“It was 2 weeks before the Champions League final. I got the call from the police back in (your hometown), they- they were driving home from our match, there- there was a drunk driver. The driver hit them at nearly full speed, they- they didn’t survive the impact.” 

The horror on the women’s faces only grows, Alexia’s grip on you only tightens. 

It’s a good few minutes before anyone says anything else, and the one to speak up this time is Lucy.

“Oh god Y/N, that- that’s awful. Why on Earth didn’t you tell us? We would’ve helped you, supported you-” her tone, growing slightly frustrated and upset, is cut off by a firm pat on the thigh by Keira, telling her to cool it a bit, the defender going quiet.

“I- I didn’t tell you because…. Because I didn’t want you to pity me, to treat me differently, and you guys already worry about me enough, so I didn’t want to add to it right before the final. And also… I just- I just couldn’t say it out loud. Not then. It was too soon…”

That conversation or “meeting” as it’s now referred to, went on for a long time, feelings were discussed, tears fell, hands trembled, and eventually, you and Alexia were left to go home, and you felt a whole lot lighter… possibly because it had been 3 days since your last meal, or possibly because you had finally confessed your secret. 

When you arrived back at the apartment, Olga was anxiously waiting there for the two of you. During the meeting, the subject of your eating had come up, you had confessed to skipping meals and intentionally not eating, and agreed to try harder to fuel your body the way an athlete should. Clearly, Alexia had shot Olga a text or something before we arrived, as there was a bowl of your favourite sitting, waiting on the table. Eli’s (Alexia’s Mami.) homemade paella and blue Powerade. Gently, Alexia sat you down at the seat in front of it and sat next to you, she put the spoon in your hand and made you eat a few bites, and then she just slipped into conversation with you, a random conversation, about school and friends and the new set pieces, etc. And before you knew it, you had been so distracted that you had eaten the whole bowl without even thinking about it. It felt… good, being full that is. Alexia smiled softly when she saw your small smile and took your plate up to the sink, before sending you off for a bath and a nap with a kiss on the forehead. 

A couple of days after the whole ordeal, you were asked to do an interview. Where you would be talking about the Champions League final, what it was like to score both the goals for Barca, one in the last few minutes too, how you celebrated afterwards as you were not allowed in the changing rooms, but worst of all, a question you weren’t expecting, weren’t ready for, 

“So Y/N, everyone is very familiar with your papa, your biggest fan, often seen wearing your jersey and waving his flag, but he was not spotted at the final, we were just wondering, is he okay, or just sitting somewhere else?” The interviewer asks with an unknowing and innocent smile. 

You have to swallow the lump in your throat before you can respond, you manage to keep the smile on your face, and voice steady (barely). 

“Oh, yeah, no. He, um- Unfortunately he wasn’t able to make it.” You say with a curt nod and ever so slightly pursed lips, the interviewer getting the hint not to pry any further on the question.

That night, you were curled up on the couch, laying across is, your head in Alexia’s lap, crying… again. You hadn’t been prepared for that question. It had scared you, Alexia understood, she knew how hard it was to talk about it (from personal experience), especially if you aren’t aware the subject will be brought up. Alexia whispers soothing Spanish words, her nails scratching your scalp calmingly, when there’s a knock at the door. 

Alexia frowned and looked at the clock, it was 7pm, not usual visitor time, no one was meant to be coming around, Olga was out of town with friends… who was it? She carefully moves your head from her lap and kisses your forehead before going to answer the door, as she walks over, you prop yourself up on your elbows a bit to see who it is.

The midfielder opened the door to find a woman standing there, she was young-ish, probably younger than Alexia, mid-twenties maybe, but rather… uptight looking. At first, you couldn’t see who it was, the woman and Ale exchanged a few words before Alexia stepped aside, you and the woman now having a clear view of each other… 

Your expression changed quickly, features hardening, eyes narrowing, jaw clenching. You practically jumped off the couch in anger, stomping up to the woman, and standing very close to her. With a cold look and tone, you spoke to her;

“What the fuck do you want to take from me now, tía (aunt)?” you spat the last word like it tastes fowl in your mouth… 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: i hope you enjoyed it! if you are wanting a third chapter, please don't just say "chapter 3 pls" or something like that, please give me actual ideas or requests in my inbox. kind critisms is always welcome too. thank you for reading! 😊💖

tag list: @multifandomlesbianic

[eccentricallygothic]

| Big Brother |

Description: Fermin does not like to share you with anyone. 

Pairing: Dark Step-Brother!Fermin | Naive Step-Sister!You.

Disclaimer: This story is purely a work of fiction and does not represent Fermin Lopez in any way. It also contains dark and mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact. 

Warning(s): Dubcon/Noncon, Fermin is mean, dark!Fermin, infantilization, unprotected p-in-v, spanking, degradation, dacryphilia, dumbification, possessive!Fermin, obsessive behaviors, ddlg vibes. 

Note: The Pedri one is gonna be much bigger as it has my favorite trope and Spanish man so it'll have to wait, unfortunately. Until then… 

.

Fermin does not like to share you with anyone. He doesn't know when exactly his contempt for his step-father's daughter turned into this but he doesn't care. Nor does he try to rationalize it anymore.

You are his, as he is yours.

It's quite simple, really. You're family and no one can or should come between you. No one will ever be as sincere with you like your family– he is and being the naive little thing you are, you should know that big brother always knows best. 

It doesn't matter even if he's younger than you. 

Fermin says it's all about what's in the head.

And yours is as empty as a wooden doll's.

So you say nothing and simply whimper as your head lowers when he roughly drags you inside the house by your arm before taking you to his room. You want to speak up; tell him about the forgotten kid in the park that you're supposed to be babysitting.

But you know better than to speak when big brother is angry. 

What he says goes. 

And so you're bent over his study table within the next new minutes with your skirt pushed all the way up to your waist while you sob uncontrollably and take your punishment.

“I- I am sorry, big brother– ah!” Your back twists upwards when yet another ruthless rap resounds against your tender skin that is flush with a deep shade of red. “I- I swear! I was only helping Lucia swing– ouch!” A rough hiccup rips out of your throat when your brother refuses to show you any mercy. “Please!” Fermin is not in the mood to listen. 

But he can never be wrong. Because he is big brother. So the fault is definitely yours. How many times has he told you not to speak to other boys? But you are one disobedient little sister! Big brother only wants what is best for you and to protect you because all boys except for him are pigs who only want to take advantage of you! 

“I knew this job was a bad idea” your form stills and your blood runs cold. Slap. But no scream comes out of you this time. Oh no. “You're too little to be out by yourself let alone handle another kid” his voice is low; the deadly calm of his tone causing your knees to tremble. “I fucking knew it–”

“NO! NO BIG BROTHER, PLEASE!” You are absolutely powerless against him so if he pulls the plug on your job, no one will be able to let you keep it. “I swear! That boy came to me first! I swear! I have no idea who he was!”

Fermin grimaces as he clenches his already tense jaw so hard that it ticks. He lands another harsh spank on your quivering ass. Of course. You didn't even notice how that boy has been circling you and Lucia in the park for a few days now, having finally mustered the courage to speak to you only today as you are known as Fermin's sister. 

“I am s- sorry…” You draw your words out as you feel him snatch the tatter of your panties away. “I promise I'll b- be better n- now, big bro-ther, p- please just- OH!” Your eyes squeeze shut as you break into another fit of sobs from the powerful slap that lands on your bare folds now. 

“Tsk, how many times do I have to teach you the difference between punishment time and play time, huh little sis?” A loud squelching noise sounds in the air as he spreads your drenched pussy lips. “Shamelessly making a mess all over big brother's desk during her punishment like a silly little slut, tsk” the blood under your already flush cheeks bubbles as you whimper. 

“S- Sorry, big brother…” Your toes curl as he goes about feeling up your mound. “C- Can't help…” Your teeth pull your bottom lip between them when one of his fingers start to toy with the sensitive band of your entrance. “P- Please… help…” Fermin has taught you to come to him whenever you feel funny between your legs because you have a serious condition that must be kept a secret if you don't want the scary hospital people to take you away from your home and big brother forever. Thankfully, he knows how to fix it so all you have to do is to go to him whenever it happens. Your big brother is the best, really. Because he doesn't help you like meanie doctors with bitter medicine but instead plays with you in an admittingly odd but fun way that is stranger than anything you've ever done but it is also what you can only describe as very nice at the same time. 

“Tsk, are we in a position to make demands?” You wince at the way he scolds you before landing one last powerful smack to your pussy, making you cry aloud as you crash into the desk you are bent over from the force. “Disobeying big brother and putting yourself at risk and then whining about help, I spoil you too much, don't I little sis?” You bite your lip as you hear his fly go undone. 

Oh God. 

He takes you unprepared sometimes when he is angry or unhappy. 

Today is going to be one of those days. 

If only his junior -as he likes to refer to it- wasn't so big, you wouldn't be so scared. 

Because his girth has nearly ripped you many a time. 

“Whining for weeks because all your little friends were getting babysitting jobs and so you wanted to get one too…” Your fingers tightly curl around the edges of the desk as you feel his thick tip press against your entrance, his warm big hands clasping around your sides firmly. “Misbehaving with big brother and throwing all kinds of tantrums…” Well, yeah. You did give him the cold shoulder until he agreed. “Assuring him you would be fine only to do this–” his last words nearly melt into a hiss as he jerks his hips against yours with a powerful thrust and in comes plunging his hard shaft. 

“BIG BROTHER!” A most vile moan escapes you as the upper half of your body goes limp over the smooth surface of the desk. 

“Just imagine if I wasn't out front fixing my bike?” He is beginning to get breathless, huge cock moving between your channel of flesh and out of you slow yet rough. “And if I didn't save you in time?” A spank delivers onto your bruised ass but it is much lighter than all the other ones you have been subject to this evening. “Do you have any idea how badly that could have ended for you?” But his reproaches are no more than background buzz for you now. Your eyelids have gotten droopy and your senses are melting. 

Big brother's dick is inside you and his thick veins angrily pulsate against your bare, sensitive flesh in the best way and that's all that matters.

“Hnnng” your lips feel dry as you bite down on them, your back arching and pussy squelching out a whine when he pulls out nearly all the way. “Big brother– AH!” His hands restrain you from moving along the force of his cock this time around so all of him can be buried deep within your cunt instead of your body slamming into the desk.

“Or maybe… big brother isn't enough for you now, huh? Is that it?” Your eyebrows furrow at his words as your eyes struggle to open because his movement is beginning to get frequent… and not in a nice way. “Is that why you're going around town like a stupid little slut with her silly little pussy in need of fixing?” Your body can't help but rock a little despite his hold on your hips as the stiff skin of his cock grazes against your sensitive flesh faster and faster with each thrust. When you continue to mewl and clench around him instead of answering, Fermin clicks his tongue before he lands a slap on one of your ass cheeks, his fingers coiling around your hair. “Well?!”

“N- No!” Your features twist in discomfort when you feel the band of your entrance forcefully expand around the base of his cock in order to accommodate his balls since your pussy is so wet and your walls so greedy that they want to devour all the dick he has to offer. “B- Big brother w- will always be e-nough for me!” Your neck cranes backwards as you feel him tug at your strands while his bottom half claps against yours loudly. 

“That's fucking right” your mouth falls open when his tip works its way up your cunt and finds the spot where your nerves are sensitive today, the harsh thrust causing your head to spin. “And you better remember that the next time a silly little boy approaches you” neon stars began to appear in your vision as he moves you down and onto the table before his hands roughly move to your thighs, his hips violently snapping against yours all the while. The sound of the other side of the desk colliding with the wall next to it fills your hot ears as you feel Fermin spread your legs as far as they can go, his ballsack sinking into your sore yet much gratified entrance with each thrust now. 

“Tell me you're mine” you feel him bend one of your legs before placing your knee on the table to access you even deeper. “Tell me you're all mine!”

“BIG BROTHER!” You are panting desperately like a bitch in heat, your tight insides on the verge of your first of many orgasms of the day. “I– AH! I AM– OH!” His fingers slip between your cunt and the smooth wooden top of the desk. 

Fermin's back drapes over your back as you feel his lips hover over your ear, his coarse digits gliding across your slippery folds. “Say it and big brother will give you the cummies” he kisses the tear stains on your flushed face. “You like the cummies right?” He speaks to you like one does a child while obliterating you like you are his very own personal whore (you are). You vehemently nod, grunting and whining as you focus on holding yourself back because cumming without big brother's permission is prohibited and you are in enough trouble already. 

“I AM Y- YOURS, BIG BROTHER! A- ALL YOURS! O- ONLY YOURS!” You scream out in agony, feeling yourself overcrowded, overstuffed and overstimulated all at once. “P- PLEA–” 

Fermin loves your sobs of pure wanton. “Cum for big brother” as if a switch goes off, your orgasm barrages through you like a dam coming undone. Temporary vertigo fills your ears as your pussy tightly clenches around his hard shaft that is still pounding your seeping cunt just as hard. Your vision falters and your body gives up as the upper half of your body that you were barely keeping upright drops against the table with a soft thump. 

Your body spasms as your toes curl from the overstimulation but you know better than to complain. Big brother does so much for your protection and pleasure, it is only fair that you returned the favor by being nice to him back. Yes, he is difficult to satiate and one cummie is never enough for him. 

But taking care of each other is what family is all about.

… Right? 

.

I appreciate feedback >.< Also I can't believe I neglected exam prep for this lmfaooo <3 

[lousypotatoes]

What A Glorious Feeling

This chapter takes place after the pilot but before the first episode of the series.

Reader is a falcon demon, doesn't have a beak, wings drape over her kinda like Valentino's (i want him dead), reader has gray skin, usually wears a black tube top, black and white pinstripe pants, black boots, and has a daisy in her hair. Reader has the eyes and ears of a falcon and is also slightly cannibalistic.  Reader can summon any weapons at will and can move things with her mind, whenever she does this, her eyes glow red. Like Alastor, reader can also summon anything at will. If you had something else in mind for how the reader looks, you are more than welcome to imagine something different. 

I know Alastor is canonically aroace, but obviously, in this story he is not. Also, in this book, nobody knows the Radio Demon's name unless he decides to tell them. Sorry I should of said this earlier.

Song Recommendation:

I Did Something Bad - Taylor Swift

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Present day...

"Ah Dustin," Y/N said, walking over to the man, who was cowering in the corner. "You broke our deal. You know what happens to people who don't keep their word with me, don't you?"

"Please," he begged. "Give me one more month I promise-"

"You said the exact same thing six months ago," she spat angrily, her wings unfolding. 

"I swear-thi-this is the last time," he stuttered. "I just need-"

She summoned red chains, that latched onto Dustin's neck. Tugging the chains over to him, she grabbed his face, digging her claws into his cheeks. He let out a yelp of pain. 

"The deal was that if I killed your pathetic wife, I'd get your soul, and you would get me what I needed from that idiot overlord who thinks he's the shit, just because he's a pimp!" Y/N snarled, digging her claws in harder, drawing blood. "I have been more then generous towards you, and this is how you repay me?"

"I'm trying!" he cried out, tears running down his face. "Please just don't kill me!"

She had a small frown on her face. "I should rip you apart limb by limb," she said, calmly but in a deadly voice. "But I'm not goin' to do that," She removed the chains from his neck and put him down. 

"Thank you so much Assassin," Dustin said, wiping the blood off his cheeks. "I swear I will-"

He never finished his sentence. As fast as lighting, she summoned an axe and chopped his head clean off. 

"Instead, I'll make this is as quick and painless for you," she giggled, licking off the blood from the axe. "I'll have to thank Carmilla for the angelic steel at the next overlord meeting."

Using the axe, Y/N chopped up his limbs and stuffed them in a trash bag she had brought with her. 

"Cannibal town here I come," she smiled once she was done.

"Knock, knock," she said, knocking at the parlor door. 

"Y/N!" Rosie exclaimed upon seeing you. "What are you doing here so soon?" 

"I brought you a little somethin' to snack on," Y/N said, holding up the trash bag. 

"Oh you spoil me so much, my dear," Rosie said, licking her lips. 

"Anything for my closest friend," Y/N said, handing her the trash bag. 

"This is the fifth one this month," Rosie said, opening up the bag. "Sinners know better than to break a deal with you."

"They'll never learn, Rosie," she giggled as she took a seat on the couch. "Did you see the news the other day?"

"The Princess sure does have her hopes up for this hotel," Rosie answered, pouring herself a cup of tea. "Tea, Y/N?"

"No thank you," Y/N answered. "Do you think anyone would actually check in to that hotel?" 

"Who knows at this point," Rosie said, sipping her tea. "But judging by how people reacted, I don't think it's going to work out," 

"Shame," Y/N said. "It's a good idea, if it's actually possible."

"Say Y/N," she said, setting her cup down. "A friend of mine just recently got back into town. He's staying at this hotel," 

"Oh yeah?" Y/N asked curiously. "Who is it?"

"The Radio Demon," she said simply. 

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. "He's been gone for seven years," she said. "Why on Earth would he return now? And why would he be stayin' at the Princess's hotel?"

"Satan knows," Rosie replied. "Y'know, you and him would really hit it off."

Y/N's eyebrow rose up. "Sorry my darlin'," she said, lightly chuckling. "The Radio Demon is most certainly not my type."

"You don't even know him," Rosie said, a slight frown on her face. 

"I don't need too," Y/N said curtly. "From what I know, he seems like a self-absorbed prick."

"Oh c'mon," Rosie nudged you. "The both of you have so much in common! You both like whiskey, you both like jazz, you both like killing people-"

"Why all of a sudden are you tryin' to play matchmaker?" Y/N interrupted. "And why The Radio Demon out of people?"

"Because you need to get out there!" Rosie said, smoothing out her dress. "Ever since I've known you, one of the main things you talk about is how in love you were when you were alive. What was his name again?" 

"His name was Alastor," she said, her heart hurting. "I've searched all of Hell Rosie. Either he's up in Heaven, or the Exorcists got to him."

"That's why I want you to meet him," Rosie said, patting Y/N's shoulder. "Please? Do it for little ol' me?" 

"I suppose so," she sighed. "I was already thinkin' about checkin' out the hotel anyway."

"Marvelous!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together "I promise, you won't regret it!"

Landing in front of the hotel, she knocked at the door, feeling nervous, her wings fluttered behind her. 

"I'm coming!" chirped a feminine voice from behind the door. 

Fiddling with the hem of her top, Y/N waited until the person opened up the door. 

 The princess herself opened the door. "Hello! And welcome to the Hazbin Hot-"

Upon seeing your face in the doorway, she immediately slammed the door shut. 

"Vaggie!" Charlie cried out. 

"What is it?" Vaggie asked, coming down the staircase. 

"The Assassin is at the door," Charlie panicked, pointing at the door. "What do we do?" 

"Really? Another fucking overlord?" Vaggie angrily said, walking over to the door. "I'll handle this."

The door opened up a second time. Instead of the princess, a girl with a large X over her eye appeared in the doorway. 

"What the hell do you want?" she asked suspiciously. 

"There's no need to be so hostile," Y/N said, putting up her hands. "I'm here to simply offer up my services."

"We don't need you to kill anyone,"

"Not those kinds of services," she laughed. "I want to help with your hotel."

"Thanks, but we already have an overlord helping us," Vaggie said, eyeing her up and down. 

"The Radio Demon, yes I know," she said, crossing her arms. "I still want to help,"

As Vaggie was about to close the door, Charlie popped up beside her. 

"Wait Vaggie, we could use her help," she said, smiling. "With two overlords helping us, we can get a lot more done!" 

"You have a point," Vaggie grumbled. "But I'm keeping my eye on you," 

Charlie beckoned you to come in. "Thank you, Princess Morningstar," Y/N said, stepping inside.

"Oh please, just call me Charlie," she waved off. "This is Vaggie," she gestured to the girl with the X.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both,"

"Thank you!" Charlie gushed. "Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel-er-"

"Y/N," she said. "My name is Y/N."

"Right! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel Y/N! Would you like a tour?"

"Of course,"

"Why does the bar look like that?" Y/N asked after the tour was over. 

"Someone blew it up a few days ago," Charlie said simply. "Our facility manager fixed it up so it's nothing to worry about!" 

"Oh-uh-" Y/N didn't know was to say. "I'm glad it's all fixed."

"Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed. "I have to introduce you to everyone! C'mon!" Charlie grabbed her arm and dragged her away. 

"This is Nifty, our maid," she said gesturing to the small demon, cleaning the floor. "Nifty, this is Y/N, she'll be staying with us 

Nifty turned around and her eye widened and she smiled in a scary way. 

"Ooooo! I've never seen a bad girl before!" she said menacingly as she crawled up on you. "Do you want to punish some bad boys with me?"

"Just give me the time and place, sweetie," Y/N said, putting Nifty down. Nifty quicky ran off.

"She's mostly harmless," Charlie said nervously. "Just don't let her bite you."

"I'll keep that in mind," she laughed. 

"This is Husk, our bartender," she said gleefully. 

Husk was drinking from a bottle, he nodded at Y/N but didn't say anything. 

"It's nice to meet you, Husk," she said politely. 

Husk recognized her at second glance, almost spitting out his booze, he decided not to say anything about it, though. 

"Oooooo heya Y/N~" said a voice. 

Y/N turned around and grinned. "It's nice to see you again Angel Dust,"

"Ohhh it's nice to see you too baby~" he said seductively. 

"Oh that's wonderful!" Charlie exclaimed, her eyes sparkilng. "You two know each other!"

"Yeah, we met at a party a while back," Y/N explained. "He kept wantin' to look at a sword that I had just got."

"Y'know babycakes," Angel said, walking over to her. "I could show you my sword, if you want~"

"Another time, Angel," Y/N laughed, Charlie laughed awkwardly with her. 

"Well, I think that's it!" Charlie said, clapping her hands together. "I'll show you to your room and if there's anything you need, just-"

"Oh, we have a new guest?  Heavens, why didn't anyone tell me?" said a staticky voice. 

Y/N turned and saw the infamous Radio Demon standing right behind her. Upon closer inspection, there was a look in his eyes that seemed familiar. 

Too familiar. 

Y/N had loved looking into those eyes, it had brought comfort to her. 

"Oh my gosh! How could I forget!" Charlie said. "Y/N is going to be helping us around the hotel just like you!" 

At the mention of her name, something pulled at Alastor's heartstrings. 

"Well, we need all the help we can get, that's for certain," Alastor laughed.

That laugh, Y/N had imagined it every single day when she arrived in Hell.

"Y/N, this is our facility mana-"

"Alastor?"

Her voice, it sounded like an angel. Alastor remembered the first time he heard it. Everything clicked into place for the both of them.

"Y/N?"

Sorry if all the characters are a little ooc. I need to rewatch the show lmao. 

THERES AN ECLIPSE TODAY!!!

stay safe out there you little rascals <33

xoxo, Izzy

[musings-of-a-rose]

Hi, just wanted to say that I love your work! Especially with Benny and Frankie so much that I have an idea for Benny! Female reader (not picky about the name) meets Benny at a bar days after she catches her now ex-boyfriend cheating on her and they hook up at his place, but she leaves before he wakes up. She later finds out she's pregnant but doesn't tell anyone who the father is. Months later while still pregnant, her friends convince her to come with them to see a MMA fight and low and behold Benny is there fighting. He doesn't see her at first, but when the fight ends (which he wins) he sees her and she leaves abruptly while hiding her stomach since she's wearing baggy clothing. However, Benny manages to catch up to her, where she reveals the news to him. They then talk some more at her place where he reveals to her that she's been on his mind ever since that night and begins the start of something new.

One Night Can Change Everything

Pairing: Benny Miller x f!reader 

Word Count: 6400+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Rea is a general nickname for a “reader” character that @mermaidxatxheart came up with and I think that’s genius! This is not beta’d.

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

→Tell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Benny Miller Masterlist

“Ok, that’s it. I’m making you get out of this bed now,” My best friend Sage declares as she towers over my bed, where I have lived for the past several days. Ever since I caught my boyfriend sleeping with my co-worker. Co-workerS.

Ex-boyfriend now, I suppose. 

I groan, attempting to roll over but Sage grabs my shoulder and flips me back over, digging her fingers lovingly into my skin. “I love you Rea, I do. But you have to get out of this bed. He’s not worth it.”

She’s right. I know she is. But we had been dating for nearly 2 years, mostly. It was on and off, but we had talked about marriage, kids, all of it. I thought he would be my forever but apparently, I was his “for now”. 

Fuck this asshole.

I sit up quickly, nearly colliding with Sage, and yank the covers off me, determination flooding my veins, choking out the hurt. For now, at least. 

“Alright, alright. I’m up.”

Sage points to the bathroom. “First, please take a shower. Then we’re going to Mick’s.” 

I’d almost forgotten about Mick’s, Sage’s favorite bar. Probably because it’s full of rugged, blue-collar men and Sage definitely has a type. Not that I can blame her. 

“Ok, but I’m just going for you. And science.”

Sage snorts. “Sure, Rea. Sure. Don’t forget to shave.”

—--------------

An hour later and I’m walking into Mick’s front door, loud music vibrating through me. It’s busy, but I’ve seen it busier and we manage to snag a couple of stools at the bar. Within 10 minutes, Sage is led to the dance floor by some burly lumberjack, complete with flannel shirt and all. I throw my hand up in the air in a “what about me” motion as she glances behind her, shrugging and gesturing around the room before focusing all of her attention on the flannel clad bear of a man in front of her, who is surprisingly agile. I turn back to the bar, taking my hand off the top of my glass, tossing the last of the liquid down my throat, coughing slightly at the burn. I set my glass down, my finger trailing along the rim, wondering if I should call an Uber or wait for my friend, when a man slides in next to me, flagging down the bartender. 

“5 beers, please.” His voice has a slight drawl to it, his tone warming me all over. 

“Seems a lot for one man.” Where the hell did that courage come from?

The man, clad in a button up light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up that opens to reveal a camo print shirt, turns his head to me and for what feels like days, I’m rendered speechless. This man is gorgeous - a sloping nose,  sandy blonde hair that flips out from behind his backward hat, some patchy facial hair, and the most intensely blue eyes I’ve ever seen. They glance quickly down my body and back up, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

“Ain’t all for me, sweetheart. Got a table full of impatient assholes waiting for a beer.”

I cock my head to the side. “You lose a bet or something?”

The man tips his head back and laughs, his shoulders shaking with it and I feel my body tingle. I could listen to that sound forever. 

“How the hell did you know that?” His smile is wide, all of his attention on me, his eyebrows raised in question.

I shrug. “I’d send the guy who lost a bet to get the first round, at least.”

He chuckles. “Smart girl…I’m Ben. Friends call me Benny.”

I tell him my name. “But my friends call me Rea.”

“I like that. Nice to meet you, Rea.” He sticks his hand out to shake mine, but before I can, 4 beers slide in front of him and he glances down at them, his shoulders dropping ever so slightly. 

Finding courage from somewhere, I lay my hand on his forearm and have to resist squeezing. “You have to go back so soon?”

He smiles again, the skin around his eyes crinkling with it. “Nah, sweetheart. I’ll be right back. Promise me you’ll wait right here?” There go the eyebrows again, pulling together and making him look like a puppy. Fuck I am so screwed.

“I’ll be waiting.”

He hesitates for a brief second before taking my hand and kissing the back of it. “Now that’s something to make a man move fast.” He winks, grabs the four beers, and heads off into the crowd, making his way towards the back of the room. Hate to see him leave, but damn I’m loving watching him go, his 6’3 frame easily visible over the crowd. He drops off the beers somewhere at the back of the room, turning quickly to push his way back through the crowd, his eyes locking on mine and giving me a sly smile. 

“You waited.” He slides back into the barstool next to me as I pull my leg from it, the universal gesture for this is saved.

Fuck his eyes are so blue. “You came back.”

A smile plays at the corner of his lips. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

I look down for a moment, my mind going back to my ex and all of his cheating, making me feel less than. Benny seems to sense something, his large hand hesitating a moment before he gently squeezes my arm. “You ok?”

I shake my head, my eyes locking back on his blues. “Yeah. I’m great now you’re here.”

Benny is easy to talk to, fun, and flirty. He’s in Delta Force, or was, with his actual brother, one of the men that he’d owed a beer to earlier. We talk about everything and anything, Benny eventually pulling me to the dance floor and whisking me about, sometimes dancing and other times being silly and smiling when I laugh. After several songs, we need a break, managing to snag a couple of stools at the bar, sipping on a couple of drinks. 

“So you live local?” He asks me, taking another swig from his beer.

I nod. “Yeah. I don’t typically come here, but my friend Sage dragged me out of the house.”

“Well remind me to thank her. She here?”

“Actually,” I turn and look out at the crowd for several moments, finally seeing her in the back corner, making out with Flannel Bear Man. I chuckle. “Yeah, she’s a little occupied.”

Benny chuckles, taking another swig of his beer, his free hand hesitating a moment before landing on my bare thigh, just above my knee. “Well I can keep you company.” 

His warm hand against my skin has my brain short-circuiting. I can’t think of what to say so I return his question. “Are you local?”

He nods, his thumb slowly rubbing circles across my skin. “Yeah. But some water main or somethin’ broke in my building. They put us all up in hotels until they fix it. Burst a few pipes.”

“Oh no! Is your stuff ok?” I place my hand over his on my leg, giving it a little squeeze and move it further up my thigh, heat immediately rushing to an area not far from where his hand is. 

He clears his throat. “Uh, y-yeah. Well, I had some water damage but didn’t lose anythin’ big. They just have to put down new floors.”

The music volume suddenly goes up by several volumes, turning the place into a mini club. Benny winces and I can see that it triggers him, the loud sounds and people becoming a little much. I lean in closer to his ear, gently rubbing circles into the back of his hand. 

“It’s too fucking loud! Wanna get out of here?” I pull my head back to look at him, our faces only an inch apart. His eyes flit between mine, briefly pausing on my lips.

“If you’re sure, hell yeah.”

I smile and he returns it before I lean back into his ear. “Let me flag my friend down and let her know. Stay right here so I don’t lose you.”

He turns his head, his nose brushing against my cheek. “I’ll be right here.” Hating that I have to move, I gently place his hand on his thigh and give him a wink before turning, scanning the corner where I had last seen Sage. She’s still there, Flannel Bear Man sucking on her neck. I force my way through the crowd and eventually emerge in front of her. Sage’s gaze takes a moment to settle on me.

“Rea! Where’ve you been?” She yells above the music.

I gesture to where I came from. “At the bar. Waiting for you.”

She gasps as Flannel Bear Man starts to bite her skin. “S-sorry, Rea. I-”

I cut her off, not wanting to intrude any longer. “No worries. I’m getting out of here. With a guy. I’ll get an Uber.”

Sage reaches out and grips my wrist, breaking the suction from Flannel Man who only seems to just realize I’m standing here. 

“A guy? You found someone? Do you need condoms?”

“Sage! I have to go!”

“Wait!” She pulls her clutch from somewhere and digs around in it, quickly sliding a few foiled square packages in my hand. “ Remember, it’s just a rebound. Don’t get attached. Have fun and be safe!”

I can’t help the heat in my cheeks, but I tuck the condoms in my bag. “Thanks. I’ll ping you my location.”

Sage releases my wrist and smiles at me before I turn back to Benny, shoving my way through more bodies on the dance floor. I emerge on the other side and see him still sitting where I left him, hat turned backward and looking so fucking hot. 

This is all so unlike me, but I like Benny. Sage’s words echo through my head “it’s just a rebound. Have some fun.”

I walk up to Benny and he turns his head, standing and giving me a wide smile. “Ready to go, sweetheart?”

I nod and he offers me his hand, which I happily accept, his touch warming me all over as he guides us through the crowd and out the front door, the volume immediately decreasing the moment the door closes behind us. 

“Now I can hear myself think!” Benny chuckles as he pulls my hand to his lips, lightly brushing them against my knuckles, his puppy dog eyes on mine. “Did you drive?

“Hhhm? Oh, uh no. Uber.”

Benny nods. “I have my jeep. I can drive us somewhere? Unless you’d feel safer using Uber?”

I study him for a moment, deciding that I trust him. “I love Jeeps.”

He smiles, his grip on my hand tightening slightly as he directs me to the parking lot, chatting a little too fast about his Jeep, like he’s nervous. He helps me into the passenger side, sliding across the hood to make it to the driver’s side quicker, smiling at my laugh. He starts the Jeep and gets the ac started before turning to me.

“Where to?”

It’s just a rebound. Have fun. “I’d love to see your hotel.”

His eyebrows raise, that same smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah? You don’t have to. I mean, we could just get a burger or somethin’.”

I look down at my hands in my lap. Did I misread the signals? He was definitely coming on to me, right? I wasn’t reading into that? Before I can spiral further, Benny puts his hand over mine. “Hey, look. I like you and think you’re fucking hot as hell and would love to take you to my room to uh, show you the room. But I don’t want to presume or make you feel obligated or anything.”

I would choose a fucking gentlemen for a rebound. Fuck. I close my hand over his and meet his eyes. “Thanks, Benny. I don’t want to push you or presume either.”

He chuckles once, removing his hand to put his Jeep in reverse and then back into drive. “Sweetheart, you can take advantage of me any day.”

That breaks the awkwardness and has us laughing, falling back into conversation easily as Benny navigates through traffic. Gently, I lay his hand on my bare thigh again, wrapping my hand over his. He’s talking about something, I honestly can’t focus because he’s started to move, his fingers tracing slow lines across my skin as his hand moves further up my leg, getting closer to where I desperately want him to be. We hit a red light and the Jeep goes quiet, Benny turning to look at me as he slides his hand further up, his pinkie finger just barely tracing the crease of my thigh, heat and wet pooling just beyond his touch. My lips part and I let out a gasp of air, my eyes finding his. 

There’s a moment of hesitation but then I grip his shirt, pulling him towards me, our lips crashing together. He nips at my bottom lip and I gasp, Benny taking full advantage to slide his tongue into my open mouth, a small moan escaping me. His free hand leaves the steering wheel to grip the back of my head, holding me to him as he explores my mouth. The car behind us honks and we jump apart, the light having already turned green. Benny sticks his hand up to apologize to the car behind us, driving on, but immediately places his hand back on me, this time, his pinkie grazes up my panties and I squirm a little in my seat, not used to this much attention. He stills his movements.

“Is it too much?” He’s actually concerned.

“More like, not enough.”

Benny makes it to his hotel in record time.

Heated touches and kisses down the hallway has Benny dropping his room key a few times. As he tries to jam it into the lock, I slide my hands around him from behind, moving up his stomach from under his shirt and fuck he has a nice body, my hands moving lightly over his toned chest. He finally jams the key into the lock and flings the door open, tossing his keys on top of the dresser. He spins back around to face me, his eyes blown wide and dark with lust. 

He swallows hard. “Are you…are you sure?”

I step close to Benny, gently take his wrist and turn his hand palm up. One hand still holding his, I open my bag and fish out one of the foil squares, and place the condom in Benny’s hand. He glances down at it before looking back at me, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

“Rea, did you get a condom from your friend?”

I can feel the heat blooming in my cheeks. “No! I mean, technically yes but she-”

He cuts me off with his lips, one hand wrapped around my head and the other grips my hips, fingers digging into my skin as he pulls me flush against him. I can feel him hard beneath his jeans and I moan into his kiss, pressing myself against him so I can try to relieve some of the rapidly increasing hear between my thighs. He moves us and I feel the bed hit the back of my knees, but he holds me tighter before breaking the kiss. Both of us rip the shirts from our bodies, my bra quickly following. I reach for my pants but he grabs my wrists and stills them, his blue eys falling to my chest. He gently cups a boob and lightly pinches the nipple and I gasp, the small movement shooting straight between my legs. 

Then Benny sinks to his knees, eye level with my pants. He pops open the button on my jeans, sliding them down my legs where I help him kick them off. His large fingers trace the outline of my panties, the heat pooling there as I gasp at his touch. He hooks his fingers into them and slides them down my legs too, his eyes locked on the space between my thighs. 

“Fuck you’re beautiful,” he half whispers. A half chuckle escapes me before it turns into a moan as he slides his nose up my slit, bumping into my clit. He growls, using my hips to push me down on the bed, tossing my legs over his shoulders like it was nothing. 

Which I have no time to think about because his mouth is on me, his hands on my inner thighs, pressing them further apart, widening his canvas. His tongue explores me, seeking all the areas that have me writhing under his firm grip. He somehow finds spots that I didn’t even know existed, sucking lightly, lapping, the coil of pleasure quickly tightening until a sound erupts from me, somewhere between a chant and a moan, my fingers gripping his hair to keep him in the same spot as he prolongs my release. 

My head is in a blissful haze, but I manage a whine as he pulls away from me, taking his pants off when he does. I hear the sound of the condom opening and I watch him as he rolls the condom on himself. I lean up on my elbows to see better, because he’s gorgeous, not girthy but longer, and definitely not anywhere near a size I’ve had in me. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take my time.” I blink, looking up at his face and see that there’s a hint of concern there, like he wants to make sure I’m comfortable.

I scoot further up on the bed to give him more space. “Don’t worry about me. I can take you.”

His eyes darken and he grabs my ankle, yanking me back down towards the end of the bed. I squeal, my body heating up again as he lowers himself between my legs. He pauses, his eyes bright as he glances between my own. 

“You’re so beautiful,” there’s that almost whisper voice again, his eyebrows pulling together so he looks like a puppy.

“So are you, Benny.” We take each other in for a few more moments, my body about to burst with all of the tension and hormones racing through it. “Now please fuck me, now.” I know I’m begging, but I don’t care. 

And neither does Benny, apparently, as he smirks. “Yes ma’am.”

He slowly presses his hips forward and I let out a moan as he stretches me, pushing further and further in. I’m not sure how, but he bottoms out, dropping his head to my chest, breathing heavy for a moment. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. Gimme a sec so I don’t blow my load like a teenager.”

I manage some sort of confirmation sound, but then a moment later, he slowly pulls out and presses back in, repeating this a few times so I can adjust to his length. It’s driving me mad and I writhe under him, feeling every inch of him as he slowly moves in and out of me. He pulls out, his hips pausing as he looks down at me and it’s like time stops. Just for a moment. Then his lips crash to mine as he pushes forward quickly, sliding into me in one fast movement and I cry out, my hands gripping his biceps, nails digging into his skin as his hips set a fast pace, his direction and speed adjusting to my moans of pleasure. Every time he pushes in, he hits a spot somewhere at the back of me, a place no one has touched, and it sends sparks through my vision, my entire body like a livewire as he pushes me towards the edge.

“Fuck, Benny, I’m gonna-” my body ignites, pleasure radiating out from my cunt, his name tumbling from my lips in praise, begging him to keep going, or stop, or do it again. I have no idea, my head so engulfed in pleasure. 

“Fuck!” He yells, pressing into me one last time before he grunts, little pants and gasps tumbling from him. His head falls to my chest as he comes down. 

We stay like that for several moments, trying to catch our breath. Eventually, Benny pulls out, tossing the condom in the trash can by the bed before rolling onto his back next to me.

“What’s your third favorite dinosaur?”

I laugh, my entire body moving with it as Benny joins in, tears running down our cheeks as my movements turn me towards him. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been asked that question, let alone just after sex.”

Benny shrugs, smiling. “Had to break the tension and awkwardness somehow.” 

“Well that definitely works!”

His face grows serious. “You didn’t answer the question.”

After that laughing fit, I think on it a moment. “Pterodactyl. Because they can fly.”

Benny nods. “Interesting. What’s your favorite then?”

“Nope. I’m saving that answer for after round 2.”

His eyes grow dark almost instantly. “Round 2? Like, tonight?”

“Well, my friend gave me a whole row of condoms and I don’t want to take any home.”

—----

A few hours later, I’m laying in Benny’s bed, thoroughly fucked, Benny sprawled across the bed on his stomach, lightly snoring. He’s so fucking beautiful. But then Sage’s words echo in my head “It’s just a rebound. Have fun and bounce.” I sigh, unsure of what to do. I actually do like Benny, but is that just because he’s the first guy to actually pay attention to me in a long while? Self-doubt seeps in, my ex’s hurtful words and actions taking away the blissful feeling I’d had moments before. I shake my head, telling myself that if any of it was true, I wouldn’t be in a gorgeous man’s bed, a man who just spent the last few hours pulling every spark of pleasure possible from me. 

I quietly stand, gathering up my clothes. I get them on and lace up my boots, trying not to wake Benny. It’s better if I leave before he wakes up. Rebounds don’t work out anyway, so why prolong the inevitable? 

I turn to head towards the door and see the hotel pad of paper and pen next to the phone on the dresser. I stare at it a moment before grabbing the pen, scrawling a quick “Thank You” with a heart at the end. I slide it under his keys and walk to the door, glancing back at the sleeping form of Benny, the man who just restored my confidence. I close it quietly behind me, making sure the lock clicks into place and request an Uber to take me home. 

—----

Over the next few weeks, I try to get Benny out of my head. I try to stop thinking about him or talking about him. I know he’s a rebound, and those relationships don’t work out, as Sage has reminded me more than once. And I’m not sure I’m ready for a new relationship. I think. But talking to him had been so easy, effortless. Like we had been friends since forever. In a moment of desperation, I looked up the hotel on my Uber app and called it, knowing they wouldn’t give me any information about Benny. I can’t blame them. I don’t even know his last name. 

—----

2 lines. The pink lines emerge bright against the white of the testing stick, showing me the same result as the other 4 pregnancy tests I’d taken. My stomach lurches again and I make it to the toilet just in time. I close the lid and flush, wiping my mouth with a washcloth as I stare at my reflection. How the fuck did this happen? We’d used a condom every time, and he used them correctly. It must have been a faulty condom. Fuck, Benny. How am I going to tell him? No really, how? I don’t even know his last name and now I’m having his child. A knock at the door pulls me from my spiral.

“Rea?”

I sniff and wipe my face again. “Pregnant.”

She’s silent for just a beat. “Can I come in?”

I make a noise in approval and she opens the door, heads directly for me and pulls me into a hug where I let myself lose it. Tears streaming down my face, dry heaving breaths, all of it. It takes me a while to calm down enough to talk. Sage wipes my face with a cool cloth and it helps to soothe me a bit more. 

“Are you going to tell him?”

I scoff. “How, Sage?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Call the hotel? They have to have his info.”

I shake my head. “They won’t give it to me. Especially since I don’t know his last name.”

Sage cocks her head to the side. “How do you know?”

“Oh. I uh, I may have called a few weeks ago to uh try and uh…find. Him.”

She opens her mouth and then closes it. “That doesn’t really matter now. Do you know what you want to do?”

There’s so much I don’t know. I don’t know Benny’s last name. I don’t know where he lives, just that it’s local. I don’t know what he’d even say. I don’t know how this happened. I don’t know a lot. But there’s one thing that I did know right away.

“I’m keeping the baby.”

Sage takes a deep breath and nods once. “I can’t wait to be an auntie.”

—----

“Come on, Rea! You need to get out.”

I sigh, rubbing the side of my belly. “I’m 6 months pregnant, Sage. I don’t belong at an MMA fight.”

Sage copies my sigh and places her hand over mine. “You’ve been cooped up in your room for weeks. Just…come out to get some fresh air?”

“By sitting in a crowded auditorium surrounded by drunks?”

Sage shrugs. “I’m sure they won’t be drunk drunk. Besides, Henry has a special section all roped off just for us.” 

Henry is super sweet. The burly bear sized, flannel clad man from Mick’s had fit right into our friendship, even becoming a sort of surrogate brother for me. And it’s clear to me that he loves Sage with everything he is just by the way he looks at her.

I sigh again, shrugging in a defeated manner. Sage squeals and grips my arm. “Thank you! Oh, you’ll have fun! Just wait and see!”

So now I find myself in a crowded auditorium, surrounded by people drinking. Well, ok the crowd isn’t bad around us. Sage was right - Henry had literally roped off an entire section just for us and glared at anyone who tried to grumble about it. He was really into MMA and had a couple of cousins that were fighting so he always had tickets to some match that was happening. Are they called matches? I don’t know. 

Whatever they’re called, we’re a few in, Henry leaning over to tell us about each of the fighters as they’re announced. These matches are pretty brutal - I didn’t realize just how violent they can get, even with rules in place. The last match ends and the guy with the mop comes back out, cleaning away the blood that came from the last guy losing several teeth with a blow. Once cleaned, the microphone squeaks back on to announce the next fighters.

“From Red Feather Lakes, Colorado, standing 6’3, weighing in at 195 pounds, I give you BEN MILLER!”

A familiar memory scratches at the back of my head as the crowd screams and the doors open from the locker rooms somewhere in the throngs of people now on their feet. Henry leans in to yell in my ear.

“This guy is great! He’s kicked my cousin’s asses a few times! He…”

Whatever he said after fades into the background, which has dimmed to a loud hum, as Ben Miller struts into the ring, tossing his shirt to the side, revealing a very familiar tattoo and his face finally comes into my view.

Benny. 

My stomach leaps into my throat, my heart hammering through my chest as I stare down at the man who I could never shake from my mind, even before I was having his child. Which he doesn’t know about. 

A bell dings and Benny takes a few steps towards his opponent, who immediately clocks him in his jaw, Benny’s head flying backwards. The man manages to get a couple more hits in, Benny almost absorbing all of the hits. But then the man hesitates and Benny takes that moment to attack, winding his way around the ring, jabbing at his opponent in swift, concise, planned motions. The man only stays up for a few more seconds before crumbling to the ground and giving in. The crowd goes wild as the ref holds Benny’s arm in the air, blood trickling down from his nose, a giant smile on his face. My stomach lurches and I quickly stand, yelling something about the bathroom to Sage as I grab my jacket and run for the doors, the room suddenly too small and loud. I shove open the arena’s double doors and stumble out into the nearly empty hallway. The doors close behind me and I pause a moment, taking a few deep breaths to calm myself. But then the doors open behind me again and I attempt to stand up right.

“Rea?”

Benny’s voice echoes down the hallway and through me, my insides simultaneously tightening with nerves but also excited and swooning at his fucking calming tone. My back is to him but I don’t move. He takes a step closer.

“Rea? Is that you?”

Fuck. This isn’t how I would want him to find out. But how would he find out? It’s not like I could find him. I didn’t even know his last name. I don’t-

“Are you ok?”

His voice is closer now, only a few steps behind me. I swallow hard, willing myself to hold it together as I turn to face him, keeping my jacket covering my belly. His bright blue eyes immediately find mine, a smile quicking spreading across his beautiful face. He’s still shirtless and I have to focus to keep my eyes on his face.

“Rea! It is you! I thought I saw your face in the crowd! Did you see me fight?”

I manage a small smile. “Y-yeah. I did. Congrats.”

He shrugs. “Thanks. That guy was easy but when I saw you, I thought maybe he’d hit my head harder than I thought. What…I mean uh, how are you?”

I sigh, my small smile dropping. “I…I have to tell you something.”

His expression turns serious. “Ok. But if it’s about me not calling you, you sort of left me without a last name or number.” He chuckles but stops when I don’t react. 

I hold his gaze a moment longer before letting my jacket fall to the side, exposing my belly under my form fitting black dress. His eyes immediately fall to my belly, his head turning to the side as he takes it in. I can see the moment it clicks, only a second or 2 after I moved my jacket, his eyes widening as his brain works double time to do the math. He points to himself.

“Is that…am I…the dad?”

I nod, rubbing my hand along the side of my belly where the baby is currently moving. “Yes.” I wait for the yell or scoff of disbelief, storming off, telling me I won’t get anything. All of what I had anticipated. But when I look up at him I see tears shining in his bright blues.

“You’re not fuckin’ with me?” His eyebrows pinch together, enhancing the shine from his tears and I shake my head.

“No. You’re the only one I’ve been with since my ex.”

His eyes shift down to my belly again and his hands start to reach out, but then he stops, looking back up at me. “May I?”

I give him a small smile and nod. “Yeah.”

Benny drops to his knees in front of me, placing each of his large hands on either side of my belly, rubbing small circles into my skin. I take his hand and move it, placing it right over where I’d just felt movement. 

“He was just kicking over here.”

His eyes shoot up to mine. “A boy? I’m gonna have a son?”

Fuck how can his eyebrows do that? “Yeah. A son.”

And the tears start to fall, quietly streaking down his cheeks as he laughs, trying to dab at them with the hand I hadn’t just moved. “Hey, little man. It’s me. Your dad.” A hard kick lands right in Benny’s hand and he whoops, rubbing the spot with his thumb. “You got your old man’s feet!” He continues to talk to my belly in the middle of the hallway, not caring if anyone sees him. His face is animated and lit up, despite the dried blood caked under his nose and for a second, I can see an entire future laid out before us. A wedding, a house, dancing together, maybe more kids. The love. It’s only when I snap out of this fairytale vision that I realize I was smoothing back his hair. I yank my hands back and drop them to my sides.

“Shit I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

He glances up at me. “Nah it’s ok. Actually, it felt good.” He watches me for a moment before his expression hardens. “Ok I need to get off this floor.”

He waves away my offer of a helping hand, gesturing towards my belly as he groans, standing to his full height before stretching out his legs. “I’m gettin’ too old to be kneeling on hard ass floors.”

We’re quiet for several moments, each of us just watching the other. 

“Why did you leave without sayin’ anything?”

I take a deep breath. “Benny, I…I’m sorry. I thought about you after that night. A lot. My friend had told me to just make it a rebound, to get my ex out of my head. Which it did, but what I didn’t expect was..well..you. I liked, well…like you a lot. You make me laugh, have some amazing stories, you’re funny, and hot as hell. But you also make me feel seen and heard. Like I wasn’t just there for convenience, which is ironic considering how we met, I realize that. I thought about trying to find you but the hotel wouldn’t tell me anything and I didn’t have anything to go by. And then I found out I was pregnant and I feel so guilty for not t- telling y- you, but I di-didn’t know h-how. I’m so s-s-sorry!” I can’t fight the pregnancy hormones anymore and the tears come, streaming down my face as I try to turn away, looking down and wiping furiously at my face. But then he’s there, pulling me towards him as best he can, his hand cradling the back of my head. 

“Hey, it’s ok. I never did tell you my last name or ask for your number neither. I could’ve but I didn’t.” My crying slows and he pulls back just enough to look down at me, wiping away a tear. “And I’ve regretted it ever since. I haven’t stopped thinkin’ about you either, Rea. But I really had no way of finding you. But now that we’ve found each other again, can I have your number? I’d really like to take you to dinner.”

I let out a shaky chuckle. “It’s ok, Benny. You don’t have to do that.”

He cocks his head. “Do…what?”

“Take me to dinner. Listen, you can be as involved as you want. I won’t hold you to anything. I just wanted you to know. But you don’t have to-”

“No. I’m not asking you out because you’re pregnant. I’m asking you out because I’ve wanted to for months and regretted it every day that I didn’t.”

“Benny, really. It’s ok.”

“No, I- will you wait right here a moment?”

I nod and he places his hand on my belly once more, his son giving him another thump before he practically runs back through the double doors. Once they close, I walk over to the wall and lean my back against it, my emotions running through me. Is he telling the truth? Were we both just fucking idiots? That’s an obvious yes. But still, I don’t want him to feel like he owes me. It would be nice to hang with him again, though. No, Rea. Don’t make him feel forced. The double doors fly open and Benny comes running up to me, his wallet in his hand. 

“I don’t need money, Ben-”

He shakes his head. “No. Well I mean if you need it, I’ll gladly give it but that’s not…here.” He slides out a small slip of paper from behind his driver’s license and unfolds it, handing it to me. 

It’s the thank you note I scribbled to him and left in the hotel.

Tears well in my eyes again. “You..you kept this?” 

His eyes sparkle as they look at me. “Hell yeah I did. I told you, I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you. But I had no way of findin’ you. I went to the bar every night hoping to see you walk in. But I never did.”

“I got too busy with work and then..” I gesture down to my belly and he laughs, placing a hand on my stomach again.

“Yeah I can’t blame you for not wanting to be in a bar. Especially your first trimester.”

My eyebrows raise. “What do you know about trimesters?”

“My sister was a hot fuckin’ mess during hers. Sick all the time, emotional, all of it. She felt bad about it too no matter how much we told her not to worry. My niece is 5 now and has the attitude to match.” He chuckles. “I can’t wait to meet this little guy..my little guy. Ours? Fuck this is hard to say.”

“Either way, I’m just glad you can say it.” I clutch the paper in my hand for a moment before handing it back to him. 

“So when’s that dinner?”

We’re married a year later. 

---------------------------------

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[gilverrwrites]

STOP WAIT THE TIM DRAKE WITH SIONIS!READER THAT WAS AMAZING

love academic rivals to lovers frfr

anyway but tim is also canonically a high school drop out so sionis!reader finishing school without him (technically dropped out when bruce went missing) 💀 idk why but with roman hating the wayne clan so much, I could see it being kept secret.

like a cute little forbidden fruit/secret relationship. robin & the daughter of the most notorious crime lord in the city?? jeez and you wanna ask why bruce/roman are paranoid /hj

but it's them sneaking around and then tim obviously leaves for his search for batman, dropping out of school, and it leaves sionis!reader all alone.

and then tim comes back!! and bruce is back but bruce doesn't really matter to them(reader), because tim left without a word, without a goodbye, and now he's back and I can imagine all the changes between that happened in that year he was too, the angst of him coming back.

like, would they try to find tim? would they try to go to wayne manor and figure out what the hell happened? I feel like it opens the door to possibilities between them

Hang in there, this is a real rambley ramble.

Ngl, I was picturing it for when he went to Ivy (which he also dropped out of lmao), and I like the idea of them being upfront about it for the comedy/reluctant acceptance angle, but there is still the potential for drama. However, I can see the appeal of them keeping it totally secret too (I'm gonna talk about that later in the post).

For now, heres my vision: You’re Romans favourite kid, his perfect lil angel child, the only one who wants anything to do with him so he dotes on you (to the extent that Roman can dote on anyone) and you go to him one day like; “I get perfect grades, I never miss curfew, I help with the family business, I never ask you for anything, PLEASE accept my boyfriend.” And at first `Roman’s just like… “No.”

Queue the “But Daddy I love him!” tantrum.

Unlike with Jason, Roman has never had any strong feelings toward Tim other than a general distaste cause of the Wayne association, so eventually he tries to come around, but it’s just awkward, and Tim hates it too cause he know your dad is Black Mask, and he can’t do anything without risking being exposed as Red Robin or upsetting you by causing a scene/fight. Is it to much to ask for the two most important men in your life to get along for one dinner? Please?

So, every time they meet the vibes are just off. However, they’re both trying really hard to get along cause they love you.

One night Tim unintentionally catches Black Mask red-handed and he can’t not do his job. The whole time they're fighting, Tim has this whole internal monologue going on about whether he should let Roman off with a warning for your sake, but eventually he’s like WWBD?

So, he hands Roman over to the authorities and the next day he sees you and your bawling! Inconsolable! Your dad is going to prison, your life is ruined. You’re also a bit of drama queen but validly tbh, what will this do for your social standings? Your college applications? Your career aspirations? Fuck Red Robin, you hate that guy!

You were raised by Roman Sionis, of course your inherited at least a little of his melodromatic genes.

Even though you're distressed Tim can’t keep from being like ‘You're mad at the wrong person here! Red Robin is the good guy! You're dad is the criminal, he wouldn't have been arrested if he wasn't a bad person! Who does bad things! He needs to face justice!”

It becomes a massive-ass argument until you’re like “Why can’t you be normal about this? I love my dad and this is going to have a huge effect on my life, why can’t you just be upset for me?”

Tim doesn’t have an answer cause the answer is "I'm Red Robin" but fuck that guy, right? The whole issue goes unresolved.

Or maybe he does snap and tell you the truth but that just makes things worse! "You're my boyfriend and you arrested my father! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?"

When you visit him at Blackgate, your father is quietly elated by the break up, he doesn’t say as much. He plays the concerned father, offers you comfort. He reminds you that when he killed lost his parents, it started a new age of loyalty amonst the Sionis clan. As long as you're good to your family (him), it will be good to you. Oh, and btw, he needs you to handle a few things while he's gone. Don't worry, your family pisses money, he'll be out of here in no time but this stuff is important and time sensitive, and he needs you to keep it on the down low.

The next time you see Tim, he’s Red Robin and you’re the one he catches in the act.

Also, Tim telling that Bat-Fam “So yeah, I’m seeing someone new, it’s Y/N Sionis.” And everyone looks at Steph for a second, then back to Tim and is like “Dude! Get a new type!”

Also also, you visit the Wayne family for the first time, and after growing up drilled to hate these people you’re lowkey so nervous. You’re expecting them to hate you, because you learned nothing from presuming the same thing about Tim. The youngest one is definitely scary, and the butler must be convinced you’re gonna steal something because he will not allow you to be left alone (he’s remembering teenage Roman hanging out with teenage Bruce and being the worst), but otherwise everyone is actually kinda chill. Maybe a bit overly polite but not unpleasant.

But I can totally see the appeal of them keeping it totally secret too. Especially if Tim tells you about being Red Robin. How it might force you to come to terms with your morality by enabling your father/not holding him accountable. Major existential crisis material.

Of if he doesn’t tell you, the angst of your boyfriend just up and leaving without a word, not responding to your calls, texts, emails.

When he does come back you’ve ‘moved on’. Or you thought you had until you saw him again. But after he left you high and dry you’re fuming, and won’t allow him to just walk skate back into your life.

Tim pining after you while you’re excelling in your college/job pursuit. You keep catching glimpses of Red Robin while you’re out on dates or visiting your dad. Tim tells himself he’s just vetting your new boyfriends or ensuring your dad isn’t up to no good. But really its because he’s missed you and doesn’t know how to make up for cutting you out of his life.

He also notices how you never bring your dates home. How you still bury yourself in his old hoodie at night. How you haven’t finished binge watching that show the two of you were working on together. Those little nuggets of hope are what keeps him hanging on.

[heartzfromel]

Hello !

Please make my dream come true! 50!s Agatha protecting lesbian reader who wear men's clothing (if you are ok writing this topic of course)

Thank you very much !

a/n; i actually loved writing this, i hope i did ur idea justice! also i love this pairing so like if anyone has any other requests for these two, not as like a series but as a group of one shots that can still be standalones pls lmk bc i ❤️ 50’s!agnes !!!!!!!

tags; touchy agnes, agnes & wanda are r’s best friends, dottie being evil, r being made fun of for how she’s dressed, yearning, makeout

and what about it? || 50s!agnes x reader

hands shaking, you made your way over to the group, who sat huddled together around dottie’s pool, except for agnes and wanda, who both sat slightly further away, agnes pouring more alcohol into her glass, and wanda sipping what she already had gently as the pair giggled at what seemed to be an inside joke. as the gate creaked open, the pair spun around to look at you.

you knew you dressed differently to the other women, opting for trousers and jackets over dresses and cardigans, but you didn’t see why it should be as big of a deal as it was, and neither did your two friends. you could tell that this was not going to be the case with this particular group of people as soon as you saw their expressions.

“oh my god, what is she wearing?” dottie asked, earning a giggle from the rest of the girls, bar agnes and wanda, as she swirled her drink.

this is a bad idea you thought, grateful that you’d recieved an invite from wanda, but currently wishing that the idea to do so had never ever crossed her mind. as you spun on your heel, deciding that you should just leave, agnes grabbed your wrist, tightly.

“hiya, hon!” she grinned, moving over on the seat and motioning for you to sit next to her. the grip on your wrist loosened, but never left as she began to fidget with a chain bracelet that you wore around it, a birthday gift from wanda. dottie opened her mouth to say something else, but agnes shut her up quickly, sending a glare in her direction. she seemed to get the hint as she looked back at the other girls to join in on a conversation, probably about some gossip that you didn’t care about.

you sat, listening to wanda recounting a story about when she was moving in with vision, as the three of you giggled. agnes lifted her hand, and when she put it back down, it rested on your thigh, causing your breath to hitch slightly. you had always known agnes to be quite a physical person when it came to showing affection, you had both seen it and experienced it first hand, but the way she linked arms with wanda and touched her arm when she found something shocking or funny were very different to her holding your waist when she was talking to or messing with your hair when she thought you weren’t looking.

suddenly, the conversation going on with the other women died down, and dottie cleared her throat.

“you know, y/n,” she began, causing agnes to roll her eyes and reach for the wine yet again, “you could be really pretty if you weren’t dressed like that.”

“well thank you dottie, really appreciate it.” you spat, ready to leave.

“why is it that you dress like that again?” she asked, glaring up at you.

“because i like it.” you replied, frustration lacing your tone.

“but you look like a boy.” she replied, furrowing her brows.

“and what about it?” agnes butted in, something in her tone that you’d never heard before, “what’s it doing to you?”

“agnes-“

“no, hon! i want her to answer me.” she was seething.

dottie could do nothing but mumble as agnes downed the rest of her drink, and dragged you out of dottie’s garden by the waist.

“agnes, you didn’t have to-“ you mumbled as she led you out.

“i know i didn’t, doll.” she nodded, as you stopped out on the street.

“so why did you?” you asked, wanting answers,

“i didn’t like how she was talking about you, baby.” she replied, before she stopped as the nickname seemed to slip out of her.

“what is this, agnes?” you asked, preparing yourself for her answer.

“what’s what?” she laughed, nervously.

“this.” you motioned between you, “this ‘doll, baby, hon, darling’.”

“well they’re just nicknames.” she smiled, trying to play it off.

“i don’t see you calling wanda baby.” you pressed.

“well that’s because…” she started, but the words seemed to run away from her.

“that’s because what, agnes? use your words.” you whispered, as her hands pulled you closer and yours fell onto her waist. her breath hitched.

“i don’t want to.” she let out all in one breath, and she couldn’t even take another one before her lips were on yours. you weren’t sure what you were expecting when she kissed you, but it was not this. you couldn’t get enough of each other. her lips fought with your own as she backed you into the wall of dottie’s house, gasping for air between kisses. she kissed you harder, running her hands through your hair as you let out a quiet noise.

“what do you say i take you home, huh hon.” she mumbled as she attempted to break the kiss.

“sounds good.” you replied, before you closed the gap between you again.

[macabr3-barbi3]

dream a little dream (of me) - chapter 3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54459367/chapters/140496796

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 4

You were bound to break a term of the deal eventually, right?

we've hit chapter 3! I got a huge influx of people interested and loving this story and I finally got the inspiration and drive to bang the next chapter out for everyone 🤭 there's going to be more coming, I do as the brain commands lol

A big shoutout to @fraugwinska for being like my number 1 hype person on this fic, you are a godsend 💕

And for those who asked to be tagged when the new chapter went up! @spottypug @dennsfz @bishiglomper @ivebeenthearchersstuff

Same tags as chapter 1/2 plus a couple new ones: Dream Sex, Dreamsharing, Vaginal Sex, Cunnilingus, Rough Sex, Dreamwalking, blowjobs, 'punishment' wink wink, minor injuries, let me know if I missed anything lol

I love comments and feedback, I would love to know what you think ❤️ enjoy!

The shock on Husk’s face at seeing you inside Alastor’s room when the door flies open a few days after the camping trip is matched only by yours- the horror you’re sure is written in your expression at the pool of blood accumulating under Alastor’s body where Angel Dust is supporting him with an arm around his waist, a smoking gash across his middle.

“The fuck are you doing in here?”

“What the fuck happened?”

You speak at the same time, voices overlapping as Husk shoves the door to the room further open to make room for Angel to drag Alastor inside. He’s also coated in blood down one side, likely having been supporting Alastor’s weight from the other side to drag him up the stairs.

Alastor’s eyes are clenched shut, smile more like a grimace as he snarls at Angel Dust trying to get his feet underneath himself. “I do not need any assistance, spider, release me-”

“Sure, Smiles, tell me all about it. Ya can’t even fuckin’ stand up without ya gangly ass legs collapsin’, how else were we supposed to get ya here?” Angel has also just noticed your presence in the room as you rush over, pleased smirk taking over his features. “I fuckin’ told you there was somethin’ goin’ on with them, Husk!”

“Shut the hell up, Angel,” Husk mutters, grabbing Alastor by the ankles and helping the other demon get him to the bed, despite Alastor fighting like a wild cat the whole time. You follow closely, hovering anxiously next to the mattress. They drop him unceremoniously, causing him to hiss in pain before the wound starts gushing again. “You,” Husk says, fluffy finger pointed in your face. “You stay here with him. Make sure he doesn’t fuckin’ bleed out or anything. Angel, you go tell Charlie and Vaggie what happened. I’ll get the med kit.”

“Wait, Husk” you say as he and Angel both step away, and there’s a hard grip on your wrist from Alastor when you start to follow them. “Just one sec,” you tell the demon- a great idea, with how known he was for his patience and understanding- and pull out of his grasp, hurrying after the other two. You catch Husk at the door, Angel taking off to find Charlie. “What happened to him?”

“Got into it with Vox, what else? Those fuckin’ overlord meetings are just trouble waitin’ to happen if you ask me, never would’ve caught my ass at one of them.” He runs a frustrated hand down his face. “We couldn’t get much out of his besides that, figured it would be best to get him to his room before anyone else saw him stumblin’ around the lobby.”

“Fuck.” You glance over at him, splayed across the mattress, an arm over his eyes. “Can’t he heal on his own? I thought regeneration was all the rage down here.”

“He’s been fucked since that battle with Adam- angelic steel right to the chest, did something to his body and he doesn’t heal as quick anymore. Some stitches should get him right for at least a little while.” A dark eye watches you from Husk’s peripheral. “I don’t know what you’re doing gettin’ all buddy-buddy with him but you watch yourself. We’re not all fuckin’ stupid- somethin’s up, we saw the goddamn vampire bite on your neck after camping-”

“Are there vampires in Hell?”

“Not the goddamn point. The point is be careful and don’t fuck anyone else over in the process of whatever the hell you two’re doing.” He points back into the bedroom. “Now go stand guard or whatever you do until I can stitch him up.” Husk is off then, jogging in the opposite direction that Angel had gone. You leave the door unlocked and cracked so he can get back in when he returns and go back to Alastor’s side in the bed.

His face is sweaty, eyes still clenched shut in pain, but one of his ears perks back up when he hears you come closer. “Pay no mind to those idiots,” he mutters. “I will be perfectly fine in a matter of hours. Do not let them back in.” He waves a hand lazily, the door slamming shut with a bang.

“Yeah the smoking hole in your chest gives me a lot of confidence to that. I’m not going to stop them from helping you.” You hesitate only a second before reaching out to his shirt buttons. “Let me- you’ll need this off for Husk to stitch you up.” He’s uncharacteristically quiet as you undo the buttons and slide the shirt sideways as carefully as possible to clear some space for the cat to work. You brush against his ribs and there’s a sharp inhale, Alastor’s nostrils flaring and claws digging into the sheets.

There’s a knock at the door and when you move to go open it there’s again a hand wrapped around your wrist. “Stay,” Alastor says, looking like it pains him to say it. A strip of shadow darts across the room to open the door in your stead, Husk coming back through the frame and raising an eyebrow at the sight of you still seated beside the demon.

“Charlie and Vaggie know what happened and will check on you tomorrow. Angel went to shower. Let’s get this fuckin’ over with.” He settles on the other side of you, and Alastor releases his grip on your hand to clench them into the bedsheets as Husk starts to drag the needle through his skin.

A good bit of swear words and a loosely wrapped bandage later, Alastor is patched up and passed out on his mattress. “Where did you learn to do stitches?”

“I don’t know, not really. Winged it. Just knew he wouldn’ want anyone else to see him like he is now. Vulnerable; weak. Benefit to him to have me under his thumb, I can’t run my fuckin’ mouth or use it against him.” He eyes you. “I assume you have no problem stayin’ to monitor him? With the stitches he should be good to go by mornin’ but you’ll want to watch him through the night.”

You could revive your old sleep habits and keep awake through one evening. “Yeah, I can stay. And Husk, it’s really not what you’re thinking-”

“Don’t care. Not my business. Make sure he doesn’t die- who fuckin’ knows what happens to my soul if that happens.” Husk gathers his materials and leaves the room, making sure to close and lock the door behind him.

You wander the room for a while trying to find a way to entertain yourself. He only has a couple books in the room- ones you’ve already read before- and despite your interest in the bayou dimension you don’t want to wander too far away from him. Eventually you pick a book and drag the armchair over to the bed, settling in and keeping an eye on the movements of his chest. He seems to be doing well, despite being weak and injured, no blood yet seeping through the bandages on his chest.

You do so well for a while without getting tired before the siren song of sleep starts to pull at your eyelids. You combat it as best you can- you pace the room, do push ups and jumping jacks, try counting backwards from one thousand. It doesn’t help, and you find yourself curled up in the armchair next to the bed, eyes drifting shut and not opening again.

When the world of Alastor’s dreams comes to fruition, you’re once again just in his bedroom, the only difference being a slightly darker tone to the light. His eyebrows raise when he sees you. “Well! Fancy meeting you here, darling.”

“I’m sorry, I was trying to stay awake out there to keep an eye on you-”

He waves you down. “No worries, dear. I told you before the stitches that I would be fine, that remains true. I cannot fault you for falling asleep on duty when you’ve not been accustomed to staying awake during the evenings any longer.”

A sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. I was-”

“Ah ah ah,” he interrupts, and with a shifting shadow he stands before you, trailing a finger down your throat. “That is not to say that I’m not upset with you for something else.” He circles you, eyes lidded and smile teasing. “Need I remind you again of the terms of our deal?”

“What?” Something slips around your wrist, almost like the feeling of Alastor’s fingers but softer, and you glance down to see one of his shadows. His meaning dawns on you. “Wait, Alastor, I didn’t- I’m not here on purpose, I-”

“Ahhh but that wasn’t a condition, was it? It is only allowed with my permission , dear, and I must say I can’t recall giving that to you!” Another shadow wraps itself around your thighs, buckling your legs and bringing you to your knees; he runs a hand gently along the top of your head, tipping your head up to meet his gaze. “I’m afraid discipline is in order.” With a wave of his finger Alastor’s armchair is behind him, settling into it as his tentacles make themselves at home across your body, holding you in place where you now sit on your knees, Alastor’s hand still cupped under your chin. “I think a spanking will do.”

Your body jerks where you’re held. “I’m not a child.”

“This may seem a bit tame,” he admits, expression pensive, “but sometimes the classics can be rather effective! Here’s the plan-” The tentacles shift, bending you at the waist so your chin rests nearly on Alastor’s knee. “You’ve done rather well so far so I won’t be cruel . I think ten strikes should be sufficient. You’ll count them aloud, and should you miss one we will start over. How does that sound fair?”

“Alastor-”

The first strike is over your clothing, Alastor cocking his head when you try to move away from the faint sting of it. “Surely you know how to count, dearest.” Your clothes seem to melt off your body, goosebumps erupting on your skin at the chill in the air. When you don’t respond he sighs, his smile almost condescending. “Oh well; I suppose it can’t be helped. We begin again.”

The tentacle strikes again, a sharp snap that has you hissing through your teeth. Not knowing what else you can do, you decide to just submit- how bad can ten simple swats with a tentacle really hurt? “One,” you mutter, and Alastor’s eyes light up now that you’re willing to play his game.

He cups his hand around the back of your head, and you tilt into his palm. “Perfect. Good girl. Go ahead.”

A gentle whoosh through the air, and another blow to the soft skin of your ass. “T- two,” you say, gritting your teeth against the vague ache. It’s not terribly painful; it’s more the humiliation of it than anything else, but not being able to see it coming contributes to the sting. “Fuck!” Another that you didn’t anticipate. “Three.”

Alastor uses the light pressure of his hand to tilt your head to meet his eyes. “Perhaps I’m just old fashioned,” he says softly, “but I don’t believe ‘fuck’ is a number. Start again.”

You feel the sting of frustrated tears. “Alastor, please.”

He brushes them away with a claw. “Come now, darling, no need for that. You can count to ten, can’t you? Why, it’s easy as can be and then we can be done with this business.”

So he makes you start again- and now for a third time when you can’t stop the whine in your throat from distorting the ‘eight’ into a broken groan. The spanks hadn’t been really painful before but as the punishment continued and the same spots were struck over and over you had become sore, and every new blow stung and ached like nothing else.

And yet- maybe its the position, or the utter helplessness of what’s happening with Alastor in control but there’s that familiar burn in your core, slick arousal from your cunt slipping down your thighs and out of sight of the demon before you.

Your eyes had drifted closed at some point, neck eventually losing the strength to hold itself up and pressing into the fabric of Alastor’s trousers. When he makes a curious humming noise you let your lashes flutter back open. His eyes are dark, pupils blown and his smile dangerous as he looks down at you with lidded eyes. “You know, if you’re having such trouble counting I may have a better use for that lovely mouth of yours, darling.” A brief respite from the tentacles, at least, as he repositions you with his hands to bring your face to the erection that’s grown in his lap. “This isn’t my punishment, after all; I don’t see why I should have to suffer now. How’s this- I’ll count for you, and you keep your mouth otherwise occupied, hm?”

You don’t bother trying to speak, instead just nodding in his gentle hold. He smiles, a little softer then, another quietly uttered “good girl” before he’s undoing his pants and pulling his cock out, presenting it to you and slowly guiding it into your waiting mouth.

He’s not demanding about it, lets you take your time in getting your lips wrapped around the head, fingers brushing delicately through your hair. The position isn’t perfect, and not having use of your hands is a bit of a nuisance but you can move your head enough to take some of his length into the warm, wet cavern of your mouth. You swipe your tongue along what you can reach of the underside of him and he hisses above you, pulling you back with a soft fisting of your hair until you can only reach the tip.

“We’ll continue now, my dear. Be mindful of your teeth, please.” And he slides back in with a simultaneous strike of one of the tentacles. “One.”

Somehow the childish punishment is easier to take with Alastor’s cock in your mouth. You still jerk in the hold of the tentacles when you’re hit, but your whimpers and cries of pain are muffled, the vibrations of it serving a greater purpose now in bringing Alastor pleasure. You make it to seven before a particular hard spank jolts you forward, prick shoving harder into your mouth and hitting the back of your throat. The constriction that happens when you inadvertently gag a bit makes a harsh moan tumble out of Alastor’s mouth, his fingers tightening their grip in your hair. “Fuck-”

You pull off enough to speak, lips brushing the tip as you do. “Thought ‘fuck’ wasn’t a number.”

“Wretched, delightful thing,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb against your cheek. “You raise a valid point, but I think we’ve drawn this out long enough- you’ve learned your lesson?” A nod from you, lips once again covering him and tongue swirling around the head. “Lovely,” he sighs. “Then we’ll make this last bit quick.”

He shifts forward in the armchair, enough that he’s now fully inside of your mouth and each lazy thrust of his hips bumps the back of your throat. He gives himself time to savor the feeling of you sucking and licking at him, throat constricting each time he bottoms out, in between swats from the tentacles. “Eight. Nine. Ten.” Your hands are released from their restraints, and rather than bringing them to your throbbing clit like you desperately want to, cunt drenched and ready for something more, you instead bring them to Alastor’s lap, repositioning yourself to better choke on his length. You let your teary eyes drift up to his face, his eyes lidded where he stares down at you, smile tight and tense. “Wonderfully done, sweetheart. I need only a moment more- may I?” He fists his hands in your hair on either side of your head and you let your mouth go slack, allowing him to thrust in and back out at his own leisure.

You can feel under your hands the flexing of the muscles in his forearm and wish that he would take off his goddamn shirt- get undressed in one of these dreams, just something so you weren’t the only one exposed and vulnerable.

“Magic in dreams doesn’t count, I rather think; it seems that you can do it as well.”

You think about what Alastor had said while camping- how your pants had simply vanished with a thought, the mere desire. You’d never really tried much with your dream powers. You just showed up and tried not to be spotted whenever you were in one, or got the information you were looking for and left. It hadn’t occurred to you until Alastor had said something that you might be able to do more , to use the power for something else.

So while Alastor grows more desperate in his race to completion, fucking your mouth with renewed fervor, you concentrate on the buttons of his shirt. You don’t want to alert him to what you’re trying to do- he’d probably take offense to the fact that you aren’t as wholly engrossed in letting him use your mouth as he likes, might even start the whole punishment over again after he came. So you let your vocal chords do as they please while he ruts into the hole you’ve provided for him, soft moans and whimpers to distract him a bit.

The top button twists, and slowly, silently, pulls itself from the hole it was fastened into. A slight shift of your eyes and the second one follows.

The mere possibilities of what you could do with this information makes you moan, long and low and vibrating hard around Alastor’s cock. Already close, the sensation makes him buck his hips hard, spewing curses as he spends himself in the warm and wet heat of your mouth. You’ve hardly had a chance to swallow- the taste and feeling not awful but just a little strange- before he’s yanking you up from the floor, pulling you into his lap and crushing his lips to yours. His hands come to rest on your thighs, traveling slowly upwards until he meets the welts that his tentacles have left on your skin. You hiss into his mouth at the sting of it, and he kisses you gently while massaging the sensitive skin. You distract yourself with popping another button on his shirt, a motion that goes unnoticed by Alastor in favor of switching between kissing you and watching your face while he touches you.

The rush of it eventually slows and stops, content to just sit there together for a bit with him unaware of the 6 buttons you had managed to get undone. Unlike the other times you’ve met in his dreams you aren’t simply shoved out this time- Alastor wakes up slowly and groggily, like anyone else would, and you open your eyes at the same time. He spots you in the armchair and moves to the side, clearing up a space beside him. “Come over here, dear,” he says, and you’re helpless to disobey. 

Sitting up in the armchair you become aware of two things- that the welts and likely bruises from the tentacles had carried over into real life, as did the slick arousal and throbbing need in your cunt, suddenly desperate to be filled with Alastor- not just in a dream but here, now.

You stand from the chair and to the demon’s surprise, slip your bottoms and panties off before climbing into the bed and settling yourself against his side. He turns to face you, face twisting in slight pain when the wound on his chest shifts, but he trails his fingers down the slope of your neck, over the curve of your hip, finally dipping between your legs and feeling how wet you’ve become from allowing him to be in control of you. “We may have to find a new punishment for you, dearest, if this is how you react to this method.”

“Please, Alastor,” you say, reaching a hand down to his lap and pleased to find that while he’s been spent in the dream, his erection here in the real world is eager to go again. You slip your fingers under the band of his trousers, circle them around his cock with a light squeeze. “Please, I need it- not in the dream but here, real . Please?”

His breath catches in his throat, hot exhale against your face. “I- I am injured, darling, I cannot perform as I do in my mind-”

“You don’t have to.” You’re already shifting, getting up on your knees and settling over his lap, slotting his hard, hot length against your dripping folds. “I’ll do it- you don’t have to do anything. I- I just need to cum, please?”

He cups your face in his hand like he had in the dream. “How could I possibly deny you anything?” He assists you in positioning yourself on his cock, a soft “careful, dear” as you start to sink down.

Jesus fuck. The dreams had done nothing to prepare you for the feeling in real life as you’re speared on his cock, your body making room for him with the delicious slide down until you’re seated in his lap completely. You’re full of him in every sense; your cunt stuffed, mind racing with thoughts of Alastor, vision blocked by anything but the sight of his eyes wide as he watches you take him in, his claws digging into the skin of your hips. It’s so, so much better than it is in the dreams- it’s tangible , a real memory that you can hold onto from your mind, not remnants of something in Alastor’s head. This was yours. Something he’s giving you because you asked for it, begged him for it and he obliged.

You raise up on your knees, already shaky from the slow descent, and make it halfway before Alastor shifts his hips and hits the bundle of nerves inside you. You bite back the moan that wants to escape, glaring at him halfheartedly. “I said I would do it.”

“You’re certainly taking your time, darling. Just thought I could offer some assistance.” He gives you a positively lecherous smile. “I suppose if you won’t allow me to move this should suffice.” He lets one hand slide off your hip to rub at your clit with his thumb, the other tightening its grip on you.

“I’ll- I’ll allow it,” you choke out, a little miffed that the subtle shift of his hips was enough to get him right where you needed him. You ride him gently, mindful of his injury, and the pleasure crests, so close to breaking you that your legs are cramping. “God, Alastor, please-”

“What do you need, beautiful?” You have only a moment to process the word before he’s moving, an arm wrapping around your middle and turning the pair of you over, rutting his cock into you with a speed and pressure that makes you dizzy. His smile is dazed looking down at you, watching your cunt swallow him and reveling in the wet noises that emerge from where you’re joined. “You’re so close, darling, I can feel it- your pleasure is mine. Every time you reach that peak, when you cum on my cock, it will only ever be me. ”

He shifts again, brings his knees up closer to get deeper inside of you. “Fuck, Alastor, my god-”

“I like the sound of that,” he purrs, bending down to trail his tongue up your throat. “I want to be everything to you. Would you allow me that privilege? To claim you, to own you in every way that you’d let me, in any dimension.”

Your head whips back and forth on the pillow, the edge so close your vision is dark. “Please, please, please,” you’re mumbling, “Alastor please, I’m gonna-”

The tension snaps before you can finish your sentence, a wailing cry falling from your lips as you clench and shake and cum under him, around him. It’s so different from when it happens in Alastor’s dreams- it echoes in every part of your body, your head spinning and fingers tightening in his shirt so hard that you fear you’ll rip the fabric. His name spills from you in waves with your release, and his eyes are dark as his thrusts intensify, chasing his orgasm with the resolve of a man possessed.

“Yours, all yours,” you mumble against his lips when his face comes close enough to catch his mouth. “All of me.”

He snarls and his hips stutter, snapping hard against yours. “So much- so much better,” he gasps through the tightening of your pussy on his length. “So perfect- mine -” With a harsh growl he spends himself a second time for the night, into the wet silken grip of your body. He thrusts gently through the wave of it before he collapses in a heap against you, breathing heavily into your ear.

“You’re so- lovely,” he mumbles. “Giving, for a demon. One would think that you would simply take- I would, were it me with your powers. But you’re just…” He trails off, head against your shoulder and breath slow. 

You bring a hand up to trail down his back. “I meant it,” you whisper, swallowing your nerves. “If you- if you would have me, I would be yours. For as long as you want. Forever.”

He remains silent.

Fuck. You hope you haven’t overstepped some boundary. “Alastor?” He doesn’t move, or show any indication that he’s heard you. “Hey, are you okay?” You push at his shoulder with no response, so you double down and push harder, tumbling him off of you.

“Mother fucker.” The bandages wrapped around his chest are stained with red, more than when you had begun- the demon had torn his stitches open when he flipped the pair of you around to take control back, after you specifically told him you would handle your orgasms yourself. “Idiot,” you hiss at his slacken face, but you still brush his hair back from his sweaty forehead before pulling your bottoms back on and rushing down the hall to find Husk, ignoring the sting of the welts on your rear the whole way.

[from-the-clouds]

bad liars (savior complex ii) - joel miller x f!reader

part one | masterlist | song inspo |

Baby, you're a vampire You want blood and I promised...

summary: It's been a month since Joel has last seen you, fully healed since your last interaction. But you haven't spoken...at all. Your radio silence becomes cause for concern when he hears about an outbreak of Infected at the hospital where you work. There's enough explanation in this part that you could read it on it's own, probably, but I'd highly recommend reading part one first to get the full experience. pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 7.9k warnings: SMUT - 18+ ONLY, minors DNI. (porn w/ plot, unprotected sex, oral, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, age gap. dom/sub dynamics.) Heavy angst, multiple POVs, implied drug abuse, alcohol use, canon-typical suffering! Blood mention. Both reader/Joel are insanely emotionally unavailable, and love to lie to themselves and each other! (please dm for specifics if you have any questions). a/n: Ya'll loved savior complex and I'm so happy! Literally don't think I've had a fic get that many notes before, i had so many requests for a part two and because it felt like i left things open-ended enough, this came to me pretty easily! It might be the horniest thing I've ever written and also very angsty (what's new?)....but I think you'll like the ending <3 Special to @ay0nha for letting me yell at you about my writing and to @zbeez-outlet for the wonderful idea.

Joel exhales and runs his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair – the tips of which were frozen together from standing outside for so long. It had gotten cold out. Very cold. Boston always did this time of year, and because of it, people stayed in, and crime in the QZ dropped, making it a safer place - though that wasn’t saying much. 

Of course, the cold didn’t stop him from dealing. It did make his job a hell of a lot more difficult, since FEDRA was bored, out looking for trouble, and didn’t have more pressing matters to attend to. Although today, he must’ve been in luck, because the only sign of FEDRA had been helicopters and tanks that were clearly on a mission, driving to the opposite side of the QZ. Good, he had thought. A distraction. 

Joel leans back against the brick wall of the alleyway, pulling the hood of his jacket up over his ears, stares at the ice in the cracks of the pavement. When he hears the crunch of gravel underfoot, he straightens.

The man approaching looks nervously over his shoulder, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his flimsy sweatshirt. Dave, a customer of his for some time. 

“You’re late,” Joel doesn’t bother with a proper greeting.

“I know, I know, I got held up on my way here,” Dave answers, immediately beginning his excuse. “They cleared out the hospital because of an outbreak, that whole area was locked down so I had to take the long way.”

“Outbreak?” Joel tilts his head.

“Infected. I guess a bunch of hospital staff got bit. FEDRA had to go in and put them all down.” 

Joel feels a distant pang of concern somewhere in the back of his head. “How many?”

Dave shrugs, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know, man, that’s all I know. It’s not like they’ll ever tell anyone what actually happened.”

Joel can’t help but think of you. He knows a couple people who work at the hospital, most of them through smuggling, but you’re the only one who he’s really able to bring to mind at the moment.

“So, can we, uh…”

Joel pulls the plastic baggie out from his pockets, fishing out the pills. On his end, Dave produces a wad of credits, his shoulders sagging in relief once they’ve made the trade and the drugs are in his hand. He takes one immediately, shoves the rest in his pocket. “Thanks man, I’ll see you next week?”

Leaning back against the wall, he nods, and watches his customer disappear down the alleyway. 

The second Dave is out of sight, Joel’s chest tightens, and he takes a deep breath. There’s no reason why news of Infected at the hospital should concern him. If FEDRA had been called in – they would’ve gunned down anything that moved until it was under control. He knew, better than anyone, that they would do unspeakable things in the name of keeping order. Innocent people probably died, but the dead can’t get infected.

It had been about a month since Joel had last seen you, after he’d gotten beaten within an inch of his life and ended up on your doorstep, and you were the only person that could help. It hadn’t gone at all how he expected it would – at the end of the day, he had been surprised by your tenderness. 

Still, despite that you’d let him take you on the edge of your bed, legs wrapped around him, bouncing on his cock, he wouldn’t really say that it changed anything about your relationship. He had actually been kind of afraid that it would, that your attitude towards him would shift to something more amicable.

But you hadn’t spoken to him in a month. Joel had told you he owed you one after you stitched him up, and had anticipated that you’d take him up on his offer pretty quickly. There were so many things he could do for you to make your situation better. Maybe you’d need credits…. Medicine…. Food…. Booze… Pills, something, but you haven’t reached out. You could just be biding your time until you really need the favor.

Still, the radio silence takes him aback. He should be relieved that you aren’t talking to him. But nothing? Even if it’s not about a favor…he wants some kind of confirmation that you’d both made a mistake. After all that, did you really expect nothing from him?

It dawns on him there’s now a chance you’ll never speak to him again, because you’re one of the ones that FEDRA killed. Or worse….you had gotten bit. 

Joel passes by the hospital, taking the long way home. Everything is locked down, taped off. There’s a crowd around the place – family members, he assumes, pleading with FEDRA agents for information and getting nothing in return.

“Go home. I’m sure they’ll turn up,” he hears one of them say to a weeping woman. It’s useless to ask for an honest answer, for one of them to actually care. 

Joel could go home. He could crush a couple pills, snort them, and quell the burn with a couple drinks. He could fall into restless sleep and wake up the next day as he always did, go about his business as usual. Survive. One day at a time. 

Would he ever get confirmation that you’re alive? Because at this rate, he’s not sure he’ll ever know either way. 

The feeling is going to linger. He hates it. Were you gone? If you are, he can handle knowing. Its somehow worse not to. 

He tries to justify it to himself. You’re one of his solid connections to the hospital, you’d traded with him for medical supplies before. This is business, really, if he thinks about it that way. If you’re dead, he and Tess need to find someone else to work with. 

Joel decides to take a detour on the way back to his place.

It’s past curfew when he arrives at your apartment, the sun has long since dipped below the horizon and with that comes an even harsher cold. Boston winters, he thinks to himself. If he is capable of missing anything, he’d say he missed Texas. Before all this, the last place he’d be caught dead was on the East Coast. 

Joel raps on your front door. He forgets how shitty your building is, that you sleep here alone every night, listening to your neighbors arguing through the thin walls, shady characters slinking out of shadows in the dimly-lit hallway,

A few seconds pass. When he hears nothing behind your door, he knocks again, a little louder. 

More time passes. He knocks again, louder. Maybe you didn’t hear him. 

Nothing. He does it again. Could you be asleep? His jaw clenches.

Still nothing, and Joel knocks even louder. Maybe you’re not even here, and you work nights, and he’s just missed you as you head out for another shift. But he knows that’s unlikely. Since he’s known you, you’ve never worked nights. So where the fuck were you?

Joel’s pounds on your door, yells your name into its chipping paint. He listens for something, anything, on the other side, and there’s nothing, absolutely nothing, but he keeps going The side of his fist starts to hurt, but he can’t stop himself. He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until he hears one of your neighbors yelling from the end of the hallway. 

‘Shut the fuck up!’

Joel doesn’t hear exactly where the voice comes from, but it’s enough to snap him out of it. He halts his movements, his forehead falling against hollow wood, and in the silence, hears his heart pounding in his ears. 

“Fuck!” he kicks the wall just outside the frame of your door so hard the drywall gives, leaving a hole behind. “Fuck.”

He stares at the result of his outburst for an undetermined amount of time. You were all alone. To his knowledge, you had no immediate family to inform. Who would be around to remember you? He’d never really know for sure what had happened. 

“Joel?”

He looks up, his hands still clenched tightly into fists. When he sees that it’s you, standing at the end of the hallway, they loosen. 

You look horrible - haggard, tired, your hair tangled and matted. As you move closer to him, he doesn’t miss the way your shoulders are hunched underneath the weight of your backpack. But once you’re standing in front of him, you straighten, lift your chin. 

“What is this?” you ask. “What are you doing here?”

There’s no animosity in your tone, he thinks. You might be trying to put some in there, but you don’t have the energy to do so, so it just comes out sounding very flat.

Joel realizes, suddenly, that he doesn’t have a reason. A real reason that wouldn’t….give him away. He puts his hands on his hips, thinks desperately. You do nothing to help.

When he settles in silence, offers you nothing, you just sigh and shake your head. Your teeth are chattering, lips cracked from the cold, and you seem desperate to get into shelter, twisting your key into your lock and opening the front door. Once you step inside, you flick on the lights. He follows you, closes the door behind you both, and locks it.

“Oh, yeah, come on in, I guess,” you say over your shoulder. 

Joel crosses his arms, standing in your kitchen. 

“What, am I in trouble or something?” you ask. “Because if I am, you’re gonna have to wait until I’ve showered.”

“It can wait,” Joel says, and sits at one of your kitchen chairs. 

You shrug off of your backpack and leave it on a chair, then unbutton your coat, tossing it on top. Joel swallows hard when he sees the damage it’s been hiding. Your scrubs are dirty, tattered in some places, one of the sleeves hanging, partially ripped off. And they’re covered in dried blood. It’s smeared on your arms, on the back of your neck. Not yours, he hopes. 

What the fuck happened to you? You don’t turn to see his reaction, don’t look over your shoulder to see if he’s going to ask about it. It’s almost like he’s not even there, and you clearly wish he isn’t. 

He realizes then, that he has the confirmation he’s looking for. You made it out alive. He doesn’t actually need anything else from you. And you’ve given him a perfect out. He can leave while you’re in the shower. 

But he doesn’t. Not when he hears the shower start, or the screech of the curtain across the metal rod, the sound of water hitting the basin. He stays there, motionless, until you duck out of the bathroom with your arms wrapped around yourself, wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants, hair damp and teeth chattering. 

You pad with bare feet onto the tiled area of the kitchen, brushing past him. 

“What the fuck happened to you?” he asks. 

You finally look at him, like you’re surprised he spoke up, or even asked the question. A choked, bitter laugh leaves you, and you shift your attention away from him, reaching into your cabinet for a bottle of bourbon. “Pass.”

You pour yourself a whiskey, and Joel watches you throw it back in one go, your nose scrunching up, your hand clasping into a fist as you take the shot. The taste doesn’t stop you from pouring another drink and gulping that one down, too, without as much of a reaction as the first. It’s only when you start pouring the third that he intervenes, standing and crossing the room to cover the glass with his hand before you can grab it. 

“Slow down,” he says.

“I know you’re not telling me what to do in my own home.” Your mouth opens as you look up at him, incredulous. 

Joel looks past you, shakes his head. He supposes your right, but it doesn’t make it any easier to watch the self-destructive behavior, which is funny considering how often he engages in it himself. He gives in, removes his hand from your glass. “At least…pour me one. You shouldn’t drink alone.”

Your expression softens slightly, and he’s able to see all the pain you’re hiding, just for a flash, before you turn to retrieve a second glass from your cabinet. 

Once you hand him the whiskey, he sits in the middle of the tiny loveseat you’ve got in your front room, expecting you to sit in the armchair across from it. Instead, you approach with your own drink, nudge his knee with your own, and Joel slides over to make room so you can fall onto the couch beside him. Much closer than he’d expected. 

It’s surprisingly good bourbon, and he wonders how many times you’d wasted it by downing it like you just had, instead of taking your time, savoring. He waits for you to get settled before he speaks again.

“What happened to you?” he tries once more, a little softer this time. 

There’s some contemplation on your end, you look at him for a moment, then at your glass, then back up at him again. He can almost see you trying to figure out how much you’re going to share, but he wants to know everything.

“There was an accident at the hospital,” you answer, finally. 

Joel slings his arm over the back of the couch, angles his body towards where you’re curled up, legs tucked underneath you. I’m listening.

Your voice stays even, blase. “A guard at the border broke protocol…and someone who was infected was brought in. By the time we realized, it was too late….”

“Were you hurt?” 

“Almost.” you say. “I mean, yes, actually, I’m a little scratched up, but…it’s not as bad as it could’ve been.”

Your teeth start chattering again. Joel wonders if it’s because of the cold, or your nerves. Figures it’s probably both.

“My coworker turned and I uhm….I had to…” you say into your glass, your free hand flexing like it’s trying to shake off some unpleasant muscle memory. “I had no choice.”

“I understand,” For whatever reason, he spares you from telling the story. To him, taking down Infected was nothing. But to you…“What else?” he presses.

You shrug, avoiding his eyes, one of your arms coming to grip at your opposite shoulder. “I can’t really remember. A bunch of people died. FEDRA came in and just started gunning everything down….” you shook your head, and straightened up.

“I heard about that,” Joel offers.

“Wait…you knew about this?”

“Yeah.”

“So then why are you here, asking m-” the rest of your sentence drops off, your lips parted slightly. The look on your face shifts, slowly. Your eyes narrow. Remorse turns into something more neutral, then into curiosity. “Oh my god….you were worried about me.”

“No.”

“Yes, you fucking were,” your lips curl slightly, it’s not quite a smile, but it’s something close to amusement. 

“No,” Joel defends himself. “I wanted to hear what happened from someone–”

“No you didn’t,” you interject, but he raises his voice to finish his thought.

“–who actually works there, not FEDRA’s propaganda.”

“No you did not. You’re checking up on me. You came over here after curfew to see if I was–”

“Enough,” Joel growls with enough conviction that it shuts you up, and he’s grateful, but its not enough to wipe the self-satisfied look on your face, because it doesn’t.

“What are we, like, friends now?”

He doesn’t answer, and slugs back the rest of his whiskey.

“Or would that be too much for you?” You don’t wait long for him to give you an answer, probably because you know he won’t respond. “I mean, if we’re both being honest–” He definitely wasn’t being honest. “–Today was really fucked up.”

You’re leaning forward now, some of the space between you is gone. And though you’re trying to give the impression that you’re unphased by everything, your hand is clenched tightly around your glass, and you avoid his eyes. It’s painful to watch you resist the urge to trust him. Not that he’s ever given you a good enough reason to – he knows he doesn’t deserve it, but he wants it anyways.

“It’s funny…” you say after a while. “I remember thinking that I didn’t want to die. At least… not like that. I’ve never felt that before…That’s something, isn’t it?” you ask him. 

Joel looks at you, and is surprised at the vulnerability in your expression, sees you looking for some kind of validation from him. “....It is.” 

You finish off your drink, and put the empty glass on the coffee table, shift closer to him.

“It looks like you healed up okay,” you say, after a spell. “How’s your shoulder?”

“A little sore, nothing I can’t handle.”

“Did you take those antibiotics?”

“Yes.”

“Good. And I can’t even tell you had a black eye.”

“I’m fine,” Joel asserts. 

Another shiver wracks your body, and he can tell this one is actually from the chill – your apartment is cold as fuck, it even is starting to bother him. 

“Don’t you have a heater?”

“Kinda,” you glance over at the radiator in the corner. “Sometimes it works.”

“What do you do when it’s colder than this?” It was only November, things would only get worse. 

You shrug. “I don’t know….just be colder, I guess.”

Joel imagines you curled up in your bed alone, wrapped in a thin comforter, shaking in front of him like you are now. He winces. 

“How long are you going to stay?” you ask, changing the subject.

“I should probably go now.”

You nod, scoot closer. “But maybe…” you trail off, contemplating. 

Joel sits up straighter, prompting you when you don’t speak again. “Maybe what?”

“Maybe you could stick around for a little while longer.” There’s a warm hand, yours, that lands on his thigh, and he recoils like you’ve touched him with a fire iron. He rises to his feet. 

“Hey,” you stand along with him, step in front of him to block the pathway to the door. He could easily get past you, obviously, but it’s not as simple as that. 

Of course he’s fucking thought about what happened the last time he was here – his arms around your waist, his mouth on your neck, your chest, your hands on his shoulders, whining his name. A freak accident, a glitch in the matrix, a statistically improbable thing. 

“What?” he asks as you step forward, the fingers on your free hand sliding into the belt loops of his pants. He feels blood rush to his cheeks, to other places. And you’re still fucking shivering. You look so fucking miserable, he wants to yell at you to put on a coat, to wrap yourself in a blanket, in his arms. 

“Joel,” you say his name softly, tilting your head up, leaning close. And then your hand is on the side of his face, and he realizes you’re fucking pleading with him. He knows what you want, but he has a feeling this isn’t just about sex. You’re looking for comfort, as if he’s capable of giving it. 

“We made a mistake…once,” he tells you. “We’re not going to make it again.”

He says it to hurt you, but it doesn’t work. It’s like you knew it was coming all along. “I knew what I was doing,” you answer, earnest. “Didn’t you?”

Yes. You glance down at his hands, which are squeezed into fists so tightly, his knuckles are white. If he’s not rigid, he’s not sure how he’ll be able to resist. He wants you. God, he wants you. He never thought he’d be able to have you again. 

“I could help you loosen up.”

Joel’s walking on the edge of a one-thousand foot cliff and hoping his foot slips. He wants to surrender. The only thing he thinks might save him is to say the meanest thing he can. Maybe you’d get turned off.

“Listen to yourself,” he says, finding the strength to meet your eyes. “You want me so bad, you sound pathetic.”

“Asshole,” you step closer, your mouth twitches, your lips are inches apart. “Do you think I care what you think about me?”

Joel realizes his plan has backfired. But he really only has himself to blame, he should’ve known better. With you, he’s never in as much control as he wants to be, and deep down, he likes it. 

“Go lie down on the bed.”

It’s the only thing that seems to shock you. “What?” 

“I won’t ask you again,” Joel steps backwards, crosses his arms. “Go lie down.” 

──────

If you told yourself a couple months ago that one day you’d find yourself pinned down by Joel Miller, you’d think it’d be because he was about to kill you. Maybe because you cheated him out of something, maybe because you did something else to piss him off – it didn’t really matter. Regardless of how fucked up it was, that idea would seem more dignified than what was happening now. 

Your back is being pressed deeper into the lumpy old mattress, and he’s on you. His mouth is warm, hot, wet, and dragging down your neck, nipping, sucking, licking. Your hands are itching to reach out, to skate down his torso, trace along his jawline, tug at his hair, but you can’t because he’s got them pinned above you with only one of his own. Anytime you try to fight him, his grip only grows stronger. 

It was shameful, really, but you had asked for this – begged for it, basically. There were a number of reasons why – one of which was to blow off some steam after a near death experience, the other because you’d fucked him before and it had been good, much to your dismay. There was also a third reason that you weren’t interested in acknowledging now. 

After the night Joel had gotten jumped, and you’d taken care of him, everything has changed. It’s a cliche, but true. You’d known what you were doing when it happened, and had no regrets. But it was probably not supposed to happen again, and you tried to keep it that way, more for his sake than anyone else’s. But….he was the one who showed up tonight after he’d heard what had happened. It wasn’t nothing.

Joel pulls away from you so abruptly that you gasp, shivering in the wake of his impossible warmth. 

“Sit up,” he instructs, and you turn to find him at the end of the bed, arms crossed. 

You obey, mostly just for the view. You hope to admire him, fresh from kissing you – flush skin, wet lips, tousled hair. Only he’s frustratingly stoic, unsullied – like he hadn’t been touching you at all. 

“Look at me,” he says, and you do. 

“This doesn’t mean anything.”

“It’s nothing,” you agree. 

“I won’t be gentle.”

“I don’t want you to be gentle.”

“Good,” you watch his shoulders loosen, just a little, and he takes one step backwards, his eyes tracing down your body and then back up. “Strip for me….” 

You aren’t dressed sexy at all, you remember, a sweatshirt and sweatpants. If you had thought this through a little more, you might’ve tried to make it nicer for him. “....Okay.”

“Start with your shirt,” he says, and you grab at the hem, but he snaps at you. “Ah-ah….slower.”

You swallow, nod, and carefully lift the fabric, dragging it up over your stomach, over the swell of your breasts, revealing your tight, thin white tank top. 

“That’s it, nice and slow.” 

Joel’s voice is soft but stern, a low rasp that makes your cunt clench around nothing, and he’s not even touching you. The sweatshirt is pulled over your head, falling somewhere on the crumpled bedspread. 

Languidly, you lean back, shifting your weight to get off the mattress, and Joel palms himself through his jeans. You can see where he’s straining against the denim, and you find it hard to tear your gaze away as you go to pull off your sweatpants. Joel stops you again. 

“Turn around.”

You do, and you’re sure he has a nice view of your ass as you slide them over your hips, bending over to let the fleece pool around your ankles. Slowly, you rise back up, looking at him over your shoulder for approval. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs. Your stomach flips. A month ago, you would’ve done anything to get him to stay away from you, and now, you’re terrified to disappoint him. 

That’s the problem. You’d spent most of the day fighting for your life — literally. But even after standing behind a barricade of heavily-armed FEDRA soldiers outside the hospital, you didn’t feel as safe as you did when you saw Joel at your door. You need him. For now, at least.

“Now the shirt,” he tilts his head towards the mattress, nodding encouragingly.

You get back on the bed, sitting back on your heels, and begin to pull the tank top up. It’s your last layer up top, you’re not wearing a bra, and you’re feeling a little vulnerable with him just watching you, fully clothed and composed, your gaze falling down to look at the threadbare linens. 

“Eyes up,” he instructs. “Look at me.”

Taking in a shaky inhale, you do. It’s not easy. Everything about him looks dark, animalistic. A coiled ball of energy, waiting to pounce.

But, even when you’re bare before him, he doesn’t. 

“Lie back, close your eyes.”

Of course, you don’t refuse, settling your head against the pillows. 

There’s a sound of a belt – his belt, unbuckling, the snap of a button, the dip of the bed where he kneels when he comes to hover over you. Two hands land on top of your thighs, pressing the backs against his denim-clad knees, thumbs pushing your legs further apart. 

And then…nothing. He’s still. He’s still for so long, that you actually think that something’s wrong. When you open your eyes, you’re met with a view of the underside of his jaw. You can just make out the pinched expression he’s wearing as he looks down upon you. Disdain, maybe…but it’s not meant for you, it’s for someone else….him.

“Joel,” you murmur. Instinctually, you reach for his hand.

The second it makes contact, he smacks your hand away so hard your whole body jolts. “I told you to close your eyes.”

“Sorry,” you mumble quickly, closing them again. 

You are well aware that he’s actively working through shit, probably doing some kind of mental gymnastics to rationalize why it’s okay to fuck you again, which, when you really think about it is kind of….pathetic. It’s the only thing that makes you feel any sort of power in a situation where you’ll surrender everything else. It’s a fair exchange. 

Maybe, on a different day, you would want it softer. You’d like to think he’s capable of that, even though he seems determined he isn’t. Luckily, you don’t want it softer. After today, you want to be so far gone you can’t think. 

Joel answers by leaning down and catching you in a bruising kiss. Finally. You press yourself against him cause you’re freezing and he’s so warm, and you frantically begin to unbutton the flannel he’s wearing, making it about halfway down before he pins your hands above you again.

“Slow down.”

You whine, a little frustrated because all you want to do is touch him. The fingers on his free hand hook around the elastic of your underwear, and he starts to drag them over the curve of your ass. 

He’s got to be joking with how deliberately he’s moving, anticipation only building underneath his featherlight touches.

When he’s got your panties around your ankles, you slide your legs together so he can pull them off entirely, keeping them closed as his weight shifts, and your thighs are pulled back apart.

“You’re already so wet for me,” he doesn’t need to feel you to see it clear as day, with you spread open in front of him. “So fucking desperate.”

He’s all-but glaring at you, like you’ve done something wrong, and for a minute, your eyes flick away, just for a second of relief from the tension.

“What, are you embarrassed?” he asks. 

“N-no,” you stammer, though it was supposed to sound confident. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t press you, his head dipping down to press his lips to your knee, then an inch higher, then an inch higher, then higher – keeping his eyes locked on yours the whole time, an arm winding around your thigh.

“I wanted to do this last time.” A confession. 

“Yeah?” you sigh, trembling. It’s maybe the nicest thing he’s said to you, but you can’t even acknowledge it, because you’re buzzing.

He turns his face, his beard scraping along sensitive skin. “Mhm,” his deep rasp vibrates directly to your cunt, and when his head dips down, you close your eyes – it might just be better to focus on only one sensation at a time, you’re not sure you can handle seeing what he’s about to do.

Joel’s mouth is on you the second you do, and you gasp. He licks up the seam of your lips, mouth latching around your clit, swirling with his tongue, and back down – firm, determined, practiced. You try to buck up, but he has an arm locked around your hips. 

He removes himself from you just enough to utter two words. “Stay still.”

You want to protest, but you realize that he’s let go of your hands, and it gives you the opportunity to thread your fingers into his hair, while you dig your heels into the broad expanse of his back, and he groans, tongue curling into you. 

“I’ve thought about this,” you gasp, answering his earlier admission.

“When?”

“At night. More than once.”

“Fuck,” Joel growls, and you wheeze when he works one finger into you, forcing you to take it along with his next words. “You know how fuckin’ bad that is? Dreamin’ about a man nearly twice your age?”

“I d-don’t care, I want you anyway. Y-you can do whatever you want to me,” It’s too early to be past the point of speaking coherently, it really is, but you’re already there. 

“F-fuck,” Joel repeats himself, and pushes another finger inside you next to the first, the stretch almost uncomfortable, but quickly fading to pleasure. “I’m going to.”

You’re not the going to tell him, though, that he’s the first man whose ever gone down on you, because you’re a little fucking scared for some reason. It’s intimate, very intimate, more than you expected. 

The truth is, you weren’t actually very experienced at all. You could count on one hand the number of partners you’d had, and still not use all of your fingers. While some of them were good enough, they all paled in comparison to Joel. There had never been anyone like Joel. 

His fingers curl as his tongue swirls around your clit and you cry out, inhale sharply. Minute by minute, you’re getting wetter and wetter – can hear yourself with each twist of his fingers inside you, bearing down on him. 

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he grunts, and your eyes flutter open just for a second, just to see his forehead, dark eyes staring back at you, and his hips dipping, rutting against the mattress. God he’s getting himself off to this. As hot as it is, the thought of not getting to feel him inside you causes a rush of anger. 

“F-feels so good,” you’re right there, already, and it’s pitiful.

“I know, baby, I know,” he says. “You’re already so close, aren’t you?”

Instead of answering, you just nod, gasping. Joel works you right up to the precipice, hands tightening in his hair, hips lifting off the bed – and then he slows a little –  just enough – to pull you back off the edge, and you let out a humiliating sob.

“Shhh!” he hisses with his mouth still on you, resuming the steady pace he had going. A little sigh of relief when you feel your release approaching again. He just lost his rhythm for a moment, it was nothing.

Again, he’s got you right there, you’re so close, hips jerking, breathing in short, sharp pants, something molten working its way up your spine. “Joel, that’s it, please I-”

He falters again – just enough. And it’s gone again.

You realize, with dismay, that he knows exactly what he’s doing. He hadn’t lost his rhythm. He’s doing this on purpose. 

If someone asked – not that anyone would – you wouldn’t be able to recall how long he keeps you in that state, being dragged and dangled, but denied the privilege of falling. It’s torture. 

And at first, you try to be patient. You figure he’ll grow tired, desperate, and eventually want to move on. But apparently, he doesn’t want to move on. He’s content to keep you this way for as long as he sees fit, and you can’t handle it any longer. It’s starting to hurt.

“Please, Joel, let me-” you gasp.

“Let you what?” he pulls back from you, frustratingly too soon, once again.

“Let me come, please, I’ll do anything, I’ll be good, please, please-”

“Just a little longer,” he dismisses you.

All you can do is pant and writhe, completely at his mercy. He keeps going like that, and you’ve stopped trying to filter yourself, the sounds he makes as he laves at you are obscene, you can see yourself glistening on his chin, and can feel the sheets damp beneath you. At this point, he’s enjoying this more than you are.

“Joel,” you plead with him again. “It’s too much, I c-can’t. Just, please I really need-”

“You wanna come for me, baby?” he asks. You nod ferociously. 

“Yes, please, please,” 

“You’re so fucking sweet when you beg, you know that? ” he murmurs. “Wish you were like this all the time.”

“Fuck off,” you manage, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. You should do this to me more often. 

Joel chuckles, and it vibrates just right, his fingers curling again and you moan, hands tightening in his hair. He’s focused now, you can tell because the constant stream of filth he’s been whispering has finally stopped. He’s persistent.

You’re unable to stay quiet, continuing to whimper just like that and please don’t stop over and over. And then all at once, every muscle in your body grows tense and you cry out, cunt pulsing around him so tightly that his fingers slow. “There you go, pretty girl, that’s it.” 

You whisper his name as he continues to fuck his fingers into you, riding you through your orgasm and licking up the mess you’ve made. 

At some point in the aftermath, Joel withdraws from you, and you hear the sting of his zipper. It takes a moment, but you’re able to see him through heavily lidded eyes, kneeling in front of you with his shirt unbuttoned all the way, pants around his ankles, jerking himself slowly in his hand. God he’s fucking huge, how had you forgotten about that? He’s a vision, beard still wet with you, looking down, watching your chest rise and fall. In that moment you realize two things. One, even though you’ve already come, you somehow want him even more than you had before, and two, you’ve never wanted to suck a dick so bad in your life. 

So you sit up, crawl towards him, and reach out with one hand to take him in your palm. He lets you, sighing, closing down his eyes. First, you have to kiss him, so you rise to your knees, and he pulls you into his arms, one of them winding around your waist, the other coming to rest at the small of your back. “You take such good care of me,” you whisper. 

He grimaces at the words like they’re an insult. You expect him to retaliate, to tell you that you shouldn’t say that sort of thing, but he never does. So you kiss him, gently, bringing your free hand to the side of his face. Once again, he lets you, and you taste yourself when his tongue presses into you mouth. You run your thumb over the head of his cock, and he hums against your touch, almost contentedly.

You’re doing whatever you want to him, and you’re shocked he hasn’t put a stop to it. It could be satisfying enough, you think, just to keep kissing him like this. Still, you sink back towards the bed to test things further. You’re about to wrap your mouth around him, but he pulls you off by your hair, so quickly, so hard that you yelp.

“No.” he says firmly. “Lie back.”

“But I just wanted to-”  

“No.” 

You consider trying to reason with him, but decide it won’t be worth whatever he’d do if you continue to argue.

Joel braces himself with one hand above your shoulder, the other wrapped around his cock, slowly teasing you by rubbing himself up and down a few times, before he gives in, finally pushing into you.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp at the stretch, reaching out grasp at his bicep, arching your back. He’d prepped you, and it was still too much. 

“You can take it,” he says, pressing deeper into you. His hips are all the way flush with yours, he’s to the hilt, and he still snaps them even further, once, holding you there, so deep, you feel like you’re choking on him. “See? There you go.”

It seems like you can’t quite catch your breath, and you squirm underneath him for some kind of friction, some kind of relief from how intense it all is. You can feel him throbbing inside you, feel how badly his own body is begging him to move, but he doesn’t. 

“Joel,” you cradle the back of his head, look him in the eyes. “Move, please.”

He doesn’t answer, he just brings his hand to grip your jaw, his thumb and forefinger pressing into the soft flesh of your cheeks. 

“Please?” you murmur again, and his thumb slips into your mouth, silencing you. You suck on it obediently, and after you do, he finally gives you what you want.

──────

Joel told you he wouldn’t be gentle, and he isn’t. 

He hadn’t been able to do this last time. Taste you, spread you open, fuck you properly. His hips snap against yours – ferociously, unrelenting, over and over. You’ve been going at it for awhile now, and he actually wants you to break. He wants you to tell him to slow down, to be a little more tender, not press into you so deep, so hard, so that if he listens, it wouldn’t mean he’s breaking his own promise. He’s got to be rough with you, because he’s afraid of what could happen if he’s not.

But you don’t break. You fucking take it, take him, each time, again and again, your nails digging into arms, your legs locked around his hips. Each time he delves into you, you’re getting wetter and wetter, and yet, you’re still so fucking tight. He doesn’t understand it. It’s been a long fucking time since he’s been with a woman like you – and you might be the best he’s ever had. 

You’re not even making any noise – you’re just panting, gasping in Joel’s ear as you cling to him, and that’s all. He can’t even look you in the eyes. If he does, he knows you’ll see everything that’s wrong with him, and still beg for him to give you more. 

Two hands land on either side of his face, turning his head so you can kiss him. Despite how he’s treating you, you keep trying to connect, to ground yourself. For as much as he wants to refuse, it feels too cruel to deny you. He lets you lock your lips with his own, feels your cunt clutch him even tighter. It’s impossible for you to kiss for more than a few seconds at a time without it getting broken up by a whimper here and there. You’re getting close again, he’s started to get better at recognizing it.

“You’re fucking so perfect on me, baby, you feel that?” he asks, and you nod, breathless. “Taking me so well, such a good fucking girl-”

A gasp from you cuts him off, your eyes squeezing shut as you are taken over by your climax. Joel groans and does everything he can not to come when you start pulsing around him, holding him closer, since there’s nothing else to do. It’s way too intimate…because it’s missionary, and he should’ve known better than to start off like this. 

Pulling out of you is the hardest thing he’s had to do in a while, and he ignores your noises of protest now that he’s left you empty. Then, he flips you onto your stomach. He takes a moment to admire the curve of your ass, how it dips into your waist….to him, your body is perfect, and you’re young, your skin still supple and smooth. There are still places he hasn’t gotten his mouth on, and it’s a shame, he thinks, but tonight his patience is wearing thin. Joel pulls you back until you’re on your knees, and slides back inside. There’s a little resistance, you whimper, but it’s easier than the first time. He wraps an arm around your waist, the other across your chest, and starts to jerk his hips upwards, into you. 

“Oh fuck, Joel,” you sigh in relief.

“I know, I know.”

You drop your head back until it falls against his shoulder, winding your arm back so you can pull at his hair, which kind of fucking hurts, but he likes it. 

Ultimately, you’re pretty easy to please, and it’s not long before he feels the telltale flutter of your walls as you drip down over him, soaking his lap. 

“You’re making a fucking mess, baby. You gonna come for me again?”

All you can do is plead with him. “I can’t, Joel. I can’t do it again, please just-”

“Yes, you can,” he interjects. “I know you can, baby, don’t worry…I’ll help you.”

“O-okay.’ 

He slows the roll of his hips just a little, focuses on deeper, longer strokes, and lets the hand that’s currently squeezing one of your tits fall to where your bodies are joined, finding your clit immediately.

You whine, arching back against him, the swell of your ass packed against his lower stomach. He sees a single tear leaking from the corner of your eye and feels a little guilty for what he’s doing to you. Only a little, though. 

Without any warning, for the third time, you’re coming around him – easier than the last time, like always – and he uses the feeling of you throbbing around him to chase his own release, his hand clapping over your mouth to muffle your moans as he becomes increasingly frantic. 

He turns his head, rakes his teeth along your exposed neck, and sinks them into your pulse point with a groan. Your breath is hot against him when you whimper in response. 

“Just a little more, honey.” He’s so close. You bob your head, though you’ve nearly gone limp in his arms.

Like last time, Joel knows it’s a bad idea, but he’s not going to pull out. The thought of deliberately coming inside you is actually what sends him over the edge, and he’s cursing and moaning your name. You whine at the feeling of him pulsing inside of you, arching back for more, even though he can tell you’re exhausted. 

It’s fucking freezing in your apartment, and yet, his skin is damp with sweat when he finally regains some awareness of his surroundings. He’s panting, you’re sniffling, a weak smile on your face as you catch your breath. Before he can stop himself, he presses his lips to your cheek. 

Joel tilts you both forward – very tentatively, keeping an arm wrapped around your waist. At some point, your hand settled over top of his, and you threaded your fingers between his own, holding his hand across your stomach. You keep it there, even after you’ve settled onto the bed.  

It takes a few minutes before either of you move, but it’s you who gives in first, wriggling out from where he’s got you trapped partially underneath him. 

You retreat to the bathroom, like you did last time. Somewhere during your coupling the linens have slid down the bed, and Joel settles back against the pillows, throwing an arm behind his head.  Now that he’s stopped sweating, he’s just cold, and he reaches to pull the bedspread over him. He should leave, he thinks, before you come out and ask him to. Beat you to the punch. Maybe while you’re still in the bathroom. 

A few minutes later, and you return from the bathroom, dressed again in sweats. He hears you pour yourself a glass of water, gulping it down. You flick off the lamp on your bedside table, and fall into bed next to him, lying rigidly on your back. He should reach out, pull you against him, let you settle in his arms. Instead, Joel rolls over on his side. 

It’s terrible how beautiful you are, he thinks, watching you stare up at the ceiling, hugging yourself. So beautiful, and fucking smart. You’re strong, too, but not as strong as he wishes you were. Of course, no one could ever be that strong.

He whispers your name. You turn your head, pupils still blown wide with lingering lust.

“You need to learn to defend yourself, to shoot a gun, to fight,” he says. “After today.”

“What?” you roll to face him. 

“You said you didn’t want to die,” Joel continues. “So you need to learn. ‘Case something like that happens again.”

“Oh yeah? Lemme guess, you’re gonna teach me?” your voice is a little hoarse after what he’d done to you, and you smirk at him.

“Yes.” It sobers you up, that he’s not fucking with you, or giving you a hard time. “I owe you, remember?” 

“You do.” 

“So…. I’ll teach you.” 

“....Okay.” 

“Alright.”

Joel rolls over to his opposite side, and you’re left staring at his back. Arms wrapped around 

himself in a tight hug, he waits for you to tell him to go.

You never do. 

Instead, he feels the heat of your body as you curl up against him, slotting one of your legs between his own. Your hand grazes up his ribs, over his bicep – a gentle, quick massage – before you tuck your arm underneath his own, your palm flat against his heart. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, frozen at how tender the embrace is. It’s a foreign feeling, he can’t remember the last time someone touched him like this. 

The tip of your nose hits the nape of his neck, and he can feel your shuddery exhale.

“I’m cold,” you say, like it’s obvious, lips brushing featherlight against his skin. “And if you’re staying, you might as well make yourself useful.”

He can’t roll over and wrap his arms around you. He can’t kiss your forehead or play with your hair or murmur into your ear. He can’t offer you anything in return. Joel decides, though, if he’s going to accept comfort from anyone, it’s going to be from you.

──────

taglist (basically if you asked for a pt 2 on the last part i tagged you): @bbyanarchist @dlwrish @imaginewrites24 @captain-yellow-96 @daisyintheskyewithdiamonds @sludgec0r33 @c0wb0ym3nace

[rebeltigera]

Haiii!! I got question:

Do you have any head-canons for mk? Mac? Wuk?

And what is your personal opinion on season 5?

I am responding second time because the first one didn't send :'D

Pls end me.

I don't remember the headcanons I've mustered out the first time damnit -

*sigh*

Those are general ones , I use the design of the character most of the time to show headcanons

For MK

-He's wasted after one beer.

-his tail subconsciously curl against legs of his friends or person he trust

-he chirp subconsciously

-he don't like bitter things like dark chocolate

For Wukong

- he got thick , strong curly fur . When fluffed up texture it reminds of the dust brush

- his body temperature is much higher due to the furnace punishment

-gets headaches due to the circlet (phantom pain)

-he speak and read fluently ancient Chinese , however he got problems with modern language

-he usually sleeps with lil monkeys around

-he can't get drunk.

-monkeys take care of his fur

For Mac

- his ears are too delicate for piercings. They would hurt.

- thin , straight/wavy fur like smoke . He can't stand cold

- he can always hear past and present but future is randomly whispering to him

- he got lower body temperature (due to the shadow nature)

- when drunk he looks like a beast but he's a snuggly wuggly teddy bear

-he takes care of his fur regularly himself

For Mei (because it's lacking in other categories and I don't remember more :'D)

- When she fights she tunes into imaginary music in the background. Like Gwen from spiderverse 2

About S5

*sigh* Vent warning. not directed at anyone in particular

I am unable to put up presentable opinion on this season

Also warning to everyone that will read it

If you are here to defend/ you are touchy on subject of S5 please avert your eyes.

The season was mid at best. , script was rushed, the core of it was S3 with meek antagonist, the most evil character there was a bug demon with many eyes, and SACRIFICE was basically word for this season.

Other things I remember from it is a burnt dumpling and Nezha's mech. Oh and Wukong being useless, Mac carrying season on his back , MK being even more stupid than usual. A random guy with a pagoda and a Twink snake. Nothing else .

Let's put my opinion about the animation now :D

Flying Bark got sacrificed just like MK in this season lol

The animation was a pure nightmare, it's like Seven deadly sins Incident

And if you guys think it will get much better from that in one year (let's say for example they will produce another season next year) you live high on copium and delulu.

Our juicy yummy frame by frame animation was taken away and they gave us RAGDOLL animation.

What does it mean? -AND HERE TUMBLR DECIDED TO CRASH ON ME AND IM WRITING IT 3rd TIME :D- you know how hieroglyphs are animated? Ye, that's basically it with extra steps! HOW FUN. NOW WE HAVE PUPPETS 2D. A FREAKING GACHA FROM YT IF YOU MUST. THOSE IN SOME CASES ARE EVEN BETTER ANIMATED THAN OUR SHOW ITSELF BTW. This has it's perks! I guess. It's cheaper and easier to make episodes! :D the cons are we will no longer see good battles in the show. yay "But we saw Wukong vs MK! And snippet of Wukong vs Mac fight!" please, spare me. If you are telling me those were good fights , that is half assed animation they have no idea how works and two dots clashing with eachother you should go rewatch other seasons. the fucking disgrace and audacity.

But no matter. That i can live off, that i can gulp down.

YOU KNOW WHAT I CAN'T? THE SHEER AMOUNT OF MISTAKES ON BASIC LVL IN ART. I am sitting here looking at those colors, those lines this fucking scenography and ask- what a fucking newbie did this .

YOU CAN'T EVEN GET COLOR RIGHT

AND BEFORE ANY OF U F NERDS WILL COME TO ME AND SAY "UUU ACTUALLY ITS LIGHTING FAULT-" NO ITS FUCKING NOT.

THEY CAN'T EVEN USE SAME COLORS AS IN THE PRIOR SHOT , THEY CANT EVEN SAMPLE IT PROPERLY . BETWEEN THOSE SHOTS NOTHING CHANGE THEREFORE THE LIGHTING IS THE FUCKING SAME

IF YOU DON'T DRAW , AND HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT , JUST -

we have a shiny wukong here

What is this scene , please someone can explain to me the scenography of this

Why this perspective is wrong, the shading, the lack of lighting

Here characters don't even stand properly

WHAT IS WITH THIS AWKWARD SCENOGRAPHY ?

WHY THEY ALL LOOK OUT OF PLACE. AND IM NOT EVEN TALKING ABOUT THIS SHADING BECAUSE ITS SHIT.

HAVE THEY MISSED LIKE ALL BASIC LESSONS IN ART SCHOOLS? OR SOMETHING? LIKE THIS IS A JOKE. NO WONDER PEOPLE THOUGHT TRAILER WAS FAN MADE.

Now this- this is just hillarious.

Just add to it some dramatic intense sound effect and we have another nightmare.

The voice acting was great tho

[blacknedsoul-blog]

Random Thought of the Day (VIII)

So, posh besties are finally canon, yay! Congratulations Annabel, you only had to die, get divorced, survive an assassination attempt and have about 4 or 5 mental breakdowns to make one (1) friend, that is progress! Hopefully the next one will take less effort.

That said, there are two things I want to dwell on here.

I should like to by your friend and Could we be friends?

This is not the first time we've seen Annabel ask or tell someone outright that she wants to be friends. It's the second.

Yes, Lenore is not only Annabel's wife, but -possibly- her first proper friend. And it's really interesting because these scenes show you two really different sides of her, even though it's a similar situation.

When she meets Lenore, Annabel comes across as a very confident person, full of confidence and absolutely charming. She is formal but approachable and straightforward about her intentions: "We can help each other".

On the other hand, at this point, Annabel is keeping the reasons she wants this friendship to herself, she seems nervous -even a little uncomfortable- and behaves much more awkwardly. She hesitates, chokes on words, doesn't quite know if what she's doing is appropriate.

If I had to think of reasons for this contrast, there are two.

First: Annabel when she has time to plan vs. when she has to improvise. She went looking for Lenore, probably had at least an entire night to think about what kind of person this mysterious woman locked in the attic might be and how to approach this conversation. On the other hand, this conversation with Prospero had to be pulled out of her sleeve after a lot of emotionally complicated moments, maybe it didn't occur to her that this conversation could actually happen, and she has no plan B if Prospero rejects the offer.

On top of that, Annabel knows better than anyone the risks of getting attached to someone in Nevermore.

Second, that the scene with Prospero functions in some way as a reflection of Annabel's feelings when she first meets Lenore: there's no reason to believe she was any better equipped to enter into a relationship with anyone at that point in her life than she is now. But in this scene, we -and Lenore- see what Annabel wants to show, the parts of herself that she may find most attractive or pleasing. Here, Prospero gets a glimpse of her awkward and uncomfortable side, and I'd bet that awkwardness was present in that first meeting with Lenore, it's just that she had a chance to think about it, rehearse it, and thus hide those sides of her character as well.

The thing that makes me think of it that way is this:

Annabel's first gesture to Lenore is to shake her hand, which she also mentions here:

She still doesn't remember doing it, but the idea behind it is more or less the same: Annabel associates this kind of formality with friendly or amicable gestures; a mixture of business dealings and affectionate promises.

Again, the same intention, but with a very different performance. One that makes me wonder what exactly her thoughs when she went to see Lenore.

The Introvert Who Adopts and the Extrovert Who Is Adopted

Another thing that got me thinking about this whole thing is that so far we've seen Annabel -a very introverted person- be the one to take the first step in getting into a relationship with someone: she's the one who asks the question.

The funny thing is that even though Lenore is an extrovert, it was the other way around, she never took the initiative to start a relationship with anyone: Annabel came to see her, Morella is her assigned roommate, Duke came to talk to her, Pluto was won in a Pokémon swap (and she didn't choose him, Ada threw him under the bus), and Eulalie and Bernice approached her first.

I can see why this would happen from Annabel's side; she's a person who moves in the shadows, someone who lives by appearances and isn't afraid to manipulate or deceive to get her way. Under this premise, explicitly telling the people she cares about that this is an honest relationship feels like something even necessary for the sake of the relationship and her own mental health.

But in thinking about why this is happening to Lenore, and going back and reading chapter 22 to do this little analysis, I remembered this scene:

And…I don't know about you, but I think I'm going to pin this one. For now.

[angstywaifu]

The Lost Sister - Part 6

Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.

Garrick Tavis x OC A/N: I couldn't resist posting this so close to the other part. I'd say I'm sorry for the slight cliff hanger.... But I'm not. Also I've started writing some of the stuff around threshing, what do you guys think Ophelia's signet should be? What dragon will she have? Also what should we make Garrick's signet? I've seen a few theories on his being pain due to his dragons name, and honestly kinda leaning towards it. As per usual if you want to be on the tag list let me know! And if you guys have any prompts or ideas for small little one off stories/one shots, please pop them in my asks! Would love to give some other ideas a go. Probably leaning more towards our rebellion boys (Xaden, Garrick, Bodhi and Liam), but happy to give some others a go.

The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist

Garrick leans against the wall at the end of the bed, his hazel eyes watching me like a hawk. He hadn’t take his eyes off me since scooping me off the floor. I’m a little disappointed he managed to put a shirt on before bringing me here. I could have used the view while the healer works at cleaning the blood off my face and mending my nose. Every time I flinch or wince as the healer works, I swear I see Garrick’s hand twitch as if wanting to reach out and stop her. The healer walks away to get me some healing balm to take with me to help the last of my nose heal and to help with any bruising that may decide to show up. As she rounds the corner, Garrick pushes off the wall and pulls up a chair next to my bed. He reaches up and tilts my head towards him with his right hand. His eyes assessing my face and the work the healer has done. When he’s satisfied I’ve been healed adequately his eyes meet mine. His hand still lingering on my face.

”You two really did a number on each other.” He says with a chuckle.

”You finally going to tell me what the hell is up with you and Imogen.” I say more aggressively that I intend.

Garrick flinches at my words and his moves his hand from my cheek to his lap as he looks down and starts to fidget with this hands. Some of his dark curls falling in front of his eyes. Definitely not the response he was expecting from me.

“I promise you there is nothing going on-”

”Bullshit.” I spit out cutting him off mid sentence.

He looks up at me shocked and almost scared. Something I can safely say I’ve never seen from Garrick towards me. Granted I don’t think I’ve used that kind of tone towards him before in the entire time I’ve known Garrick, which is pretty much my entire life. He hangs his head and goes back to fidgeting with his hands, the chair creaking under his weight as he moves around. Clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

“For me there’s nothing going on with her. We hooked up a few times, but that was it.” He admits, his shoulders sagging with the confession before looking back up at me with sad eyes that almost plead forgiveness from me. “But I made it clear I wanted nothing serious. But it is becoming clear those hook ups meant more to her than just something casual.”

”You never struck me as the casual hook up type.” I admit to him.

He slowly nods in agreement before looking away again, intently focused on his hands again. “Honestly I’m not. But there are times while you are here where you just need someone. And the person I needed. The person I wanted more than just a casual hook up with.” His eyes flick up to mine, and I swear my heart stops as if I know what’s coming. “Well I kind of thought they were dead till recently.”

His words come out so quietly I barely hear them. But I do. My heart rate starts to pick up as his words sink in and silence falls around us as we just stare into each others eyes. There is no doubt that Garrick meant me. It’s not like anyone else has come back from the dead recently. Garrick who I spent most of my child hood and teenage years crushing over, has just confessed they feel the same way and all I can do is sit here and stare at him like a deer about to get torched by a dragon. And I’m sure my face probably looks similar to that deer right now. His words start to sink in as he stares at me hopefully. His eyes pleading at me to say something. Say anything back to him. But I can’t. All I can do is stare at him in shock, despite wanting to hear this exact confession from him for years.

At that moment the healer comes back with the healing balm, completely oblivious to the tension in the small closed off area. “Here you go lovely, just apply it to any bruising as it appears.” She says sweetly as she hands it to me.

I tear my gaze from Garrick as I stand and take the healing balm from her, before quickly walking out of the room. I hear the chair Garrick was sitting on scrape against the floor. As soon as I’m out the door I take off. I vaguely hear Garrick call my name as I run back to the riders quadrant.

Part 7

Tag List: @riorgail @going-through-shit @fw-gt @bbkissme99

[awfulwriter123]

Second Mom Part 2 (Rhea Ripley x Reader One-Shot)

Hey Everyone! ik its been... *checks calendar* awhile since my last upload, I'm not gonna lie to you, i have a VERY hard time trying to translate my ideas to these works. But I REALLY wanted to get back into it so why not start small? Happy Reading and a good morning/night/afternoon to all! Part 1 for anyone who's interested!!

Warnings: None, Just fluff, Also D/n is daughters name

Okay, You were nervous....Nope, Scratch that. You were scared. I mean you only flew half way across the world to Australia. Not just for Rhea's probably biggest show ever performing Infront of her family and people. But also because you were also here to introduce your now Four year old daughter d/n to her family. No pressure.

Rhea of course, was able to sense your nerves as you guys were on the plane ride over. D/n comfortably asleep with her head leaned on her shoulder. She looked over towards you to see you picking at your nails, a nervous habit you had. "Hey?" She whispered towards you has to not disturb the child sleeping on her shoulder.

You turned your head towards her to see the gentle smile on her face, that smile just slightly calming your nerves. "Hey" You whispered back with a slight smile of your own as she grabbed your hand in her own and squeezed reassuringly.

"They are gonna love her, Don't worry." She said as she leaned over slightly to place a kiss on the top of your head, gaining a huge smile out of you in the process. "I know they will, I just can't help but feel nervous you know?" You said as you looked towards your feet in nervousness.

You felt a finger under your chin causing you to lift your head. You had little time to react has you felt a pair of lips on yours for a split second before that feeling was gone. "It'll be alright, Trust me please?" She practically whispered against your lips. You nodded with a soft smile on your face before pecking her lips for quick kiss again.

You leaned back into your seat and closed your eyes and took a deep breath. 'It's gonna be a lonnnnnngggg couple of days' You thought to yourself as you slowly drifted into a nice nap before the inevitable.

~ Time Skip ~

"Hehe, I feel so tall up here!" D/n said/giggled from atop of Rhea's shoulders, You couldn't help but smile at the sight. "Tell me, What do you see up there koala?" Rhea asked while using her favorite nickname for your daughter.

"Ummmmm.... OH! I see Uncle Priest and Dom! HEY GUYS!!" She basically shouted while waving ethuastically. Dom and Priest both looked up from whatever they were looking at on Dom's phone to laugh at the sight and wave back.

"D/n, Inside voice please." You said softly next to Rhea while looking up at your daughter. "Sorry Momma." She said softly leaning on Rhea's head and closing here eyes, still a bit tired. You couldn't help but chuckle and shake your head at the sight and say. "Like mother like daughter." Rhea looked at you out of the corner of her eye. "What was that honey?" "Nothing." You said cheekily.

You guys walked a bit further before you asked. "Where did your sister say she was picking us up at?" "Should be right over he- oh I see her." You turned your head slightly to see a woman who looks just like Rhea but with blonde hair lookign around. "HEY! SIS!" Rhea shouts while waving a hand.

You see her eyes snap in your direction before a big smile comes across her face as you guys walk up to her. You gently reach up to take d/n off of Rhea's shoulders so she can greet her sister properly. D/n of course whines at not being so high up anymore.

"Hey sis, how you been?" Rhea's sister asks as she gives her big hug, Rhea instantly giving her one of her own. "I've been great, How abou you, mom and dad?" She asks while pulling back to look at her sister. "They've been great, looking forward to seeing you and meeting the Mrs." She said while looking torwards you with d/n in your arms with a smile.

You smile back and reach a free hand out. "Nice to meet you, I'm Y/n." She shakes your hand enthusiastically. "Oh I know, Rhea never shuts up about you." She laughs while pulling her hand away only for Rhea to push her shoulder playfully. "Oh piss off you-" "Language!" You quickly reprimand Rhea nudging your head towards d/n.

"Sorry love." She quickly apologized before coming over to put her arm around you and kiss the top of d/n's head. Her sister coming over to introduce herself to d/n who was currently trying to hide by burying her head in your shoulder. "Hi sweetie, It's nice to meet you." She said softly to her, d/n looking at her for a split second before hiding back into your shoulder.

"Sorry she's a bit shy around new people." You said to her before she gave you a big smile. "It's alright, that's understandable." She said before hearing a quiet voice. "So your Mommy's sister?" D/n asks while giving her a big puppy eyed look. "Yep, sure am kiddo." She said with a soft smile on her face. "So that make you my aunt?" D/n looks towards you as to make her logic checks out, which you couldn't help but laugh at.

"Yes honey, she's your aunt." D/n gets a big smile on her face and a glint in her eye as she quietly asks to be put down. As soon as you put her down she immediately runs over to Rhea's sister and hugs her legs tightly. "Hi auntie." She says as she looks up at her to which she immediately gets picked up into her aunts arms. "Good to meet you too possum."

You lean into Rhea at the sight as all your worries seem to wash away just like that. "Hope she'll be like that around your parent's." You say quietly as you look up towards Rhea who is still looking at her sister with her daughter in her arms with a look of pure happiness. "Oh she will." She said confidently before kissing your temple as you guys walk out towards her sisters car. You now know, you were worrying for no reason.