#and by then i’ll be posting the chapters weekly

[doodlinge]

(throws this at you and scurries away)

[sydneyadmu]

THE MANDALORIAN season 3 headers (twitter)

- like or reblog if you save/use!

- the requests are open <3

[wormtoxin]

when i post this mid as fuck isekai you all gotta hype me up

[otaku553]

Flames (Part 2)

<- (PREV) (NEXT) ->

(Spade Pirate Sabo AU Masterpost)

Tage to the rescue!! To answer the one person who asked if they would get to share the devil fruit power, hopefully this answers that :) only the first person who takes a bite of the fruit gets the power, so only Ace would drown in water.

So remember when I said this would be a 2 parter?? it’s now panning out to look a bit more like 3 or 4 parts maybe. Originally this was planned to be 10 pages but even with the hiatus I couldn’t finish coloring on time so you get the first half for now and the next half next week :) I think I have like,,, 35 tracked hours on this chapter now lmao

But since I’ve got lineart for the next half already done hopefully next week’s chapter will go quickly and I can build a small buffer and start to work on the week after. Do have some other AUs and thoughts in the works other than this comic but also internship has begun so it is back to the grind again until August

I will try my best to keep this updated weekly but depending on motivation and time I might have to start doing biweekly updates if I want to work on other art as well :/ but I’ll keep you guys posted! Thanks for your patience!!

[leighsartworks216]

Trespasser

dragon!Sylus x blind!oracle!Reader

I've been dying to share this FOREVER!! It's still not done, but what is done has been broken up into sections, so I'll be posting it chapter-by-chapter (probably weekly?) and hopefully I'll have it done and not leave it to die in the graveyard

@alfredosaws it's finally fucking here babeyyy

Warnings: blood, injury, panic, kidnapping, heights

Word Count: 1,191

Main Masterlist

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AO3

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You gasp for air, wincing as sharp stones prick at your bare feet. You’re scared to stop. Terrified of what could happen to you if you do. These people you’ve known your whole life, hellbent on “punishing” you, for something you have no control over.

You trip over something. You’re not sure what, but you cut up your hands pretty bad trying to save your face from hitting the dirt. Or… what kind of rocks are these?

You hold your breath. You listen. All you hear is the rapid thudding of your own heartbeat. No footsteps. No shouting.

Are you… free?

The exhaustion catches up to you. Your lungs burn, your chest aches. You can’t get up, too weak to run any more. So you fall. You collapse onto your back. The heat of the sun warms your face as you heave and wheeze, fighting to breathe normally again. You cough, mouth dry. You didn’t think to bring anything; you couldn’t. You had to get out of there as fast as possible to preserve yourself. Nothing else mattered outside of that.

But now you’re realizing just how futile your position is:

You have no idea where you are and you can’t go back.

You have no food, water or shelter.

You have nothing to defend yourself with, nor any idea if something is going to attack at any second.

And you’re blind.

Your groan under your heavy breaths. “Fuck.”

You sense the presence before you hear it. You bolt upright, clutching at the stitch in your side.

“You’re trespassing.” The voice is deep, dark. Dangerous. The hair on the back of your neck raises.

“I’m sorry. Just- if you can point me in the direction of the next civilization, I’ll leave.”

The stranger scoffs. “There are punishments for trespassing,” he warns. The threat in his voice hangs heavy over you.

You pull off the symbol of your faith from your neck and hold it out where you believe he is standing. “This is all I have. Take it to spare my life and I promise I will never come back.”

The silence is stiff. Stifling. You frown, tilting your head to listen closer for any sound of the stranger. Did he leave? How could anyone be so silent?

“Hmph. A blind mortal. Where are your owners, little thing?”

You bristle at the insinuation. The threat of death is forgotten entirely, overshadowed by your anger. “Excuse you, sir! I am my own being, perfectly capable of taking care of myself! I am not a pet to be owned!”

“Some capabilities,” he drones, teasing and unimpressed. “Do you plan on eating the gravel and drinking the sand to survive?”

You drop your hand, anger fizzling out. The symbol of your faith, hand carved from the heartwood of an ancient tree tragically felled, clatters hollowly against the stones. “My life was more important to save. I could not spare a moment longer on anything else.”

You listen closely as the rocks shift under something’s weight. The sun’s warmth is hidden from your skin. You feel something hard slip in the loop of the necklace and you let it go on instinct.

The stranger hums in thought. “This is the symbol of Astra, is it not?”

“It is.” You nod. “I’m his chosen.”

“Meaning?”

You tilt your head up at him. “You don’t know?” You open your mouth, but quickly shut it again. You just got chased out of the city for precisely this reason. Are you so recklessly prepared to force yourself into that same situation again? At worse odds?

He chuckles sardonically. “You have such a feisty mouth on you, but now is when you choose to shut it?”

“I just…” You lower your head. You have never been good at lying. The last time you lied, it was to tell a young man that his wife would survive childbirth. Astra had punished you then, and you have sworn yourself to the truth since. “I am surprised anyone doesn’t know about Astra’s Chosen. You must not be from the city.”

“No, I’m not.”

The sun touches your face once more. The rocks shift in front of you, beside you, behind you. You pray Astra will not allow you to die here. You know he will not hear you; he doesn’t listen to his puppets.

“Tell me what it means.”

“Will you let me go if I do?”

“Depends on what you decide to tell me. I may just enjoy keeping a little thing like you around.”

You glare, aiming it over your shoulder and up toward the voice. His steps falter. “Stop calling me that. I have a name, just as I am sure you do.”

You cannot run, you cannot hope to have any chance of survival out here alone, nor hope to survive whatever this stranger deems punishment. If you must die, you will not die a liar.

You sigh as you face forward once again. Your palms are covered in scraped skin, flecking away from the sensitive under-layer. Thin lines of blood show just where the unusual rocks have cut into you. You pick idly at the flesh and answer his question: “When Astra chooses someone, they become gifted with foresight. Through us, He shows glimpses into the future, prophecies of what is to come.

“Now,” your voice wavers slightly, uncertain, “will you let me go?”

Something wraps harshly around your waist, pulling you from the ground. You struggle, your back held firmly around something solid and warm.

The ground disappears beneath your feet.

You scream in innate fear. You dig your nails into the thing around your waist, trying to break free from its grasp. For all you knew, the stranger was about to drop you into a nearby pit or canyon. The idea of surviving the fall and being forced to die slowly with broken bones and in agony makes you fight harder, trying to kick at him.

The stranger huffs an annoyed sound by your ear. “I wouldn’t struggle so much, pet. You might make me drop you.”

Your head spins, trying to figure out which way is up. You cling desperately to the thing around your waist (is this an arm?) and allow your legs to fall limp, pulled by gravity. “Where are we?!” you cry out. “What are you doing?!”

Gusts of air blow past your face, cooling your skin from the hot sun - wherever it may be now. The arm holds onto you tighter, nearly crushing the air from your lungs. “I’m taking you home.”

Ice floods your veins. “Home?”

“My home, pet,” he corrects harshly. It instills no peace within you.

The wind stills. Something touches your feet, solid and firm beneath you. The ground again? You fall to your hands, knees buckling with relief as soon as the stranger lets you go. Your whole body trembles. You can’t seem to get it to stop. All you can do is cling to the ground and urge your mind to stop spinning, stop grappling with the fact that you were in the air somehow, and focus on reorienting yourself.

“I found a new treasure.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @that-lost-one @always-just-red

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | December 9th-15th 2024

I cannot wait for the Christmas holidays!! Only one week of work left!!

Complete

All The Lights Are Coming On by Sharpbutsoft (BuckysButt)/ @sharpbutsoft (Post-S8A, Christmas | 1K | General): What good is having a key to your best friend’s house if you can’t use it to spread a little holiday magic?

from here on out by Wildehack (tyleet)/ @wildehacked (Eddie comes back from Texas | 1,5K | General): Eddie’s been back from Texas for three days, and Buck’s not done being giddy about it.

the sweetest possible lie by Wildehack (tyleet)/ @wildehacked (Future Fic, Pre-Buddie | 2K | General): Chris’s fifteenth birthday falls on a Tuesday, and it couldn’t be more different from last year.

i’ll be home for christmas (if only in my dreams) by wafflesofdoom/ @capseycartwright (Christmas, Eddie goes to Texas | 2K | General): It was a silly thing, Buck had started, right when Eddie first got to El Paso – we’re looking at the same sky, he’d quipped, on one of their nightly Facetime calls. Even when they were far apart from each other, they were still able to look up at the same stars, and if they just remembered that, maybe the distance between El Paso, and Los Angeles, wouldn’t feel so cavernous. That’s what Buck had promised him.

You don’t have to outrun the bear (I’ll fall over for you) by paleredheadinascifi (Getting Together | 3K | Teen): “What the hell was that?” Eddie demands, standing up from where Buck just pushed him onto his ass. “It was gonna hit your head!” “So, what? You thought you’d just volunteer yours instead?” Eddie scoffs. “Yeah,” Buck shrugs. “I have a hard head.” Or, 5 + 1 times Buck stood between Eddie and danger, much to Eddie’s befuddlement.

& such by colonoscopys/ @colonoscopys (85K | Teen): prompts and spec fics and codas and all the works jumbled mumbled into one place.

Chapter 21. eddie on plane (Post-S8A, 3K)

Mr. Movember by 42hrb/ @exhuastedpigeon (Hockey AU, Established Buddie | 4K | Explicit): “Why are you staring at me,” Eddie asked with a laugh as they got ready for their game on November 5th. His mustache was already looking thick and sexy, unlike Buck’s which was still a little patchy and definitely too blond to look good right now. “I like the mustache,” Buck said with a shrug, trying (and failing) to sound casual about it. “Oh, you do?” Eddie stopped buttoning his shirt so he could turn around and look at Buck directly instead of in the mirror. “Y-yeah,” Buck couldn’t take his eyes off of it and here in the safety of their bedroom he was allowed to look, so why should he stop. “If you manage to keep out of the box tonight, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me and my mustache.”

slide it in, right to the top by oklahoma/ @queerdiazs (PWP, S8A | 4K | Explicit): “What’s it like?” he asks softly. Buck tips his head to the side and meets Eddie’s eyes, lazy and buzzed and pretty. “What’s what like?” Eddie swallows, face prickling red with heat, and says, “Fucking a man.” The worse taste weird on his tongue, foreign but good. Welcome, like it’s time or something. “What’s it feel like?” - After Buck shows up at Eddie's door with a six pack, Eddie's mind begins to wonder. A bottle of tequila gives him the courage to ask for something he wasn't aware he's been wanting.

‘Cause I Need Touchin’ So Primal by fruitsdoesnotknow/ @tayf-ghost (Post-S8E6: Confessions | 9K | Explicit): “Hey,” Buck says warmly into the phone, tucking it between his shoulder and ear with a smile at his lips. “Fuck,” Eddie muttered harshly into the phone, his voice rough through the receiver. “Eddie?” Buck called out, frowning. He lowered his phone from his ear to check the call, and yeah, still connected, full reception. He raises it back to his ear and catches the tail end of a noise, a choked-out groan. “Are you okay?” “Buck,” Eddie panted, his breath coming out in heavy exhales. “Buck –” Grabbing his keys, Buck makes it to the loft door, jacket half on when he stops dead in his tracks, phone still pressed to the side of his head as he hears Eddie in his ear. “Yes, Buck, yes, yes, please, yes –” *** Or, Eddie accidentally, sort of, maybe has phone sex with Buck for roughly five seconds, and Buck spirals about it until Eddie finally ends up in his lap.

now i don't hate california after all by jaekyu (PWP, Getting Together, Eddie comes back from Texas | 10K | Explicit): Eddie’s been waiting for months. He can wait a little bit longer.

🔥 Somethings Said (to turn you inside out) by taegyungie (Post-S8A, PWP | 12K | Explicit): Eddie tilts his head. “Why are you being so weird, Buck?” It’s funny to Buck that Eddie has to ask; one finds out his ridiculously hot best friend is now also sleeping with men, one begins thinking about sleeping with said ridiculously hot best friend. It just makes sense, right? So it almost offends him, a little bit, that Eddie is the picture of cool right now. Has seeing Buck in such a deliberately sexual context not altered Eddie’s brain chemistry, too? Does Buck need to update his Grindr profile? or, Buck catches Eddie on Grindr and now he can't stop thinking about it.

🔥 bad luck to talk by jaekyu (FWB, Misunderstandings | 14K | Explicit): Just before Eddie tells Buck he loves him, he’s pretty sure they’ve been building up to this for months. Just after Eddie tells Buck he loves him, he realises he’s deeply misunderstood this entire situation. And Buck? Well, Buck didn’t even think they were dating. (Aftermath, and then: the road less travelled, with the benefit of hindsight.)

at this fork in the road (I want the path that leads me to you) by kabnd/ @polkadotk804 (Post-S8A, Eddie goes to Texas | 24K | Teen): It is at that moment that Eddie realizes that he has a choice. There are two roads ahead of him. Two paths. Two potential futures. One with Buck at his back, and one with Buck eight hundred miles away. Eddie knows which one he wants, but he just needs to be brave enough to ask for it. OR: In one series of events, Eddie asks Buck to come with him to Texas, in another he doesn’t…but whatever steps they take, Buck and Eddie always find their way to each other and bring Christopher home.

WIP

Finding Mr Christmas by JJK/@trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Canon Divergent, Reality TV, Christmas | 4/? | 24K | Teen): "Welcome to Finding Mr Christmas! You’re all here chasing the same dream, to star in a Hallmark Christmas movie, and over the next few weeks we’re going to be putting you through your paces to see which of you has the most star quality and that ‘it’ factor that makes you shine above the rest." 🎄🎄🎄 An AU where Buck and Eddie meet as contestants on Hallmark's Finding Mr Christmas competition (and fall for each other).

can’t fight the moonlight by coldbam/ @coldbam (Werewolf Buck, Canon Divergent | 1/2 | 10K | Explicit): “Apparently I stole his very special mug,” Eddie says, not bothering to hide the sarcasm. “I know you guys keep saying he’s all bark, Buck’s a real sweetheart, but I'm starting to worry you all just have terrible judge of character,” Eddie half-jokes. He sighs, rubbing at his eyes. “What the hell is his problem?” “Full moon tonight,” Chimney says with a smirk, chewing his gum like he’s proud of himself for that joke. * Or, everyone works at a wolf sanctuary and Buck is a werewolf.

Snickerdoodles of Longing by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Post-S8A, Demi Eddie | 1/2 | 14K | Mature): Eddie piles up all his baking supplies and tells him, “All yours. Whatever you want to make. I’ll get more of anything if you need it. We should have plenty of flour though. I got you five bags.” Buck’s head snaps toward him. “Five bags? You got me five bags of flour? The little two pound ones, right? Or the five pounders?” “No, the tens. Like that one.” “You bought me fifty pounds of flour?” “You’re the one who decided his coping mechanism for loneliness was snickerdoodles and sourdough. I’m just being supportive. Since you’re my wingman and I’m yours or whatever you said when you stole my tablet and my realtor call.” Buck smirks. “More like saved your call.” More like saved Eddie’s everything but who’s counting? ~ Eddie decides he needs to move to Texas and slowly unravels as he comes to terms with how he really feels and what he's losing.

there is no road by littleghost/ @ghostlandtoo (Post-S8A, Eddie moves to Texas | 2/6 | 24K | Explicit): Years ago, almost a full decade, Shannon had asked him to move and Eddie refused because he was trying to build a life for himself again. Eddie knows if he asks Buck, he’ll get that same refusal. Worse, Buck could say yes and Eddie would be uprooting Buck from the very life he built for himself. He doesn’t ask, and Buck doesn’t offer, and they pack up Eddie Diaz’s life in Los Angeles into cardboard boxes. Or: Eddie moves to Texas. Buck buys his house. There’s a love story somewhere in here.

Gentle On My Mind by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Shannon Lives, Buck/Eddie/Shannon | 9/? | 55K | Explicit): In which Shannon lives, tells a lie, and sends hers, Eddie's, and Buck's lives down a very different path.

[daphwritesworld]

Chapter 1— For The First Time.

a/n: welcome to the Be My Baby series! i’m super excited to get started and work on this story! I’m thinking of publishing 2/3 chapters weekly if I can, but at least 1 will always come out. If additional ones are on the way i’ll make sure to update that on my upcoming post. thank you for your support and happy reading < 3

(p.s. sorry I didn't proof read this lol. I will later and edit any details that need touching up. This is already a few hours late tho, so I want to go ahead and get it out.)

content: Top!Leah, Bottom!Reader, bed humping, fingering (r receiving), teasing, talks of shoe humping, spit play, talks of previous sexual encounters, brewing sexual tension, and masturbation (both)

warnings: allusions to heavy dom/sub relationship, talks of injury, Leah busting her ass at practice, Leah making a fool of herself when she’s in shock, flirty!Leah deserves a warning on its own so here you go, calling reader a bitch & slutty once in a dominating way, semi-public sex, almost getting caught by Alessia, Leah accidentally knocking you on your ass lol

synopsis: You've arrived to your first day at Arsenal; your new club for the foreseeable future as head Athletic Trainer. A new country with promises of a new start awaits for you...until a familiar face disrupts your plans and throws you head first into a whirlwind of emotions and actions.

word count: 3.4k

Series Masterlist: here.

!! 18+ MINORS DNI !!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♥♠♥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The crisp air of Shenley lites a whispered chill to cover you as you step out of the taxi. You pay the driver, wishing him a good day as you collect your bags from the cab. A deep breath makes its way from your chest and out your lips, gathering your bearings as you finally start to make your way inside. This is going to be a fresh start in a place no one knows you– exactly what you need. No expectations to meet or lingering gazes on and off the pitch. No drama or gossip floating around or eating lunch by yourself. Things are going to be different here.

You take in the scenery as you approach the Sobha Realty Training Centre, your new place of employment. The building feels like it’s going to swallow you, the tall white walls reminding you of the hospital as a familiar churn starts to turn in your stomach.

Breathe. Everything is going to be fine.

Your hand comes up to open the door, but it’s pulled from your grasp. You look up, eyes meeting a warm smile and kind eyes. You relax at her appearance, and even more at her friendly approach, “Hi, I’m Alessia! You must be Y/N, I assume?”

You find yourself mirroring her smile, a hand coming out to shake hers. “Yes, it’s lovely to meet you, Alessia! Sorry I’m late– I got lost and then I just ended up taking a taxi….London is a lot bigger than I expected…” you trail off as you realize you're rambling. Embarrassment sinking in as you look down to the floor.

“You’re totally fine! I think we all got lost on our first day, haha. That’s why I’m here to show you around, this place is huge when you don’t know it. Now follow me, new girl!” and just like that, she’s showing you everywhere possible. She shows you the cafeteria, weight rooms, bathrooms, locker rooms, and just about every tiny place to hide if you need a moment to yourself.

“I don’t mean to sound rude– but shouldn’t you be out on the field training with the others? Showing me around can’t possibly be more important with the Euro Finals coming up,” you say as you arrange your med bag for practice. The rest of your things are now stored in your brand new Arsenal locker you were shown, your name enraged into the gold plate marking your future. She laughs at that, pointing down towards her ankle that you now see is wrapped up. “Sprained it a week ago, so i’m benched. Swelling is still up so Coach won’t let me play on it yet, not even at practice.”

A laugh now comes out of you at her frustrated tone near the end. “Well, I have to agree. Until the swelling and all pain is gone you need to let it properly heal. We don’t need you hurting it worse!”

You feel a shove to your shoulder at that, zipping up your pack as you turn towards her now.

“Spoken like the true new head AT! See you're falling into place here already,” You give a shove back to her shoulder. Careful to do it lightly and not push her off balance with her injury. “Ready to meet the girls?”

You let out a sigh before nodding your head, “If they're all as nice as you I think I’ll be just fine.” And then you two are off, Alessia leading the way to your new team. You can feel your hands sweating as you get closer to the field in sight. All the girls training, the coaches, the other medical trainers under your watch…it’s all facing you at once as the past leaves your mind step by step. Like the shedding of skin on a snake, you're letting your anxieties fall from you as your passion for the job kicks back in. Like a flicker of flame– just waiting to ignite higher.

Your confidence is gaining with every blade of grass that passes beneath your feet. You know you're good at this. Hell you’re fucking amazing at this. Not many trainers could switch clubs– let alone countries for said club, in the middle of a season and still be Head AT…but you are that good. No matter what might’ve happened in Barcelona, you’re going to make sure you thrive here in London.

Well that is until your eyes meet hers. It’s like the wind gets knocked out of your chest– hers quite literally. The blonde’s eyes stay on yours, a furrowed brow taking over her face as she keeps running blind. Until she smacks face first into the goal post at full force, bright hair tumbling to the ground in a loud, harsh collapse. Your feet work faster than your brain, running over and immediately separating her from the net. You’re assessing her body, eyes frantically searching for any blood, bruises, cuts, or abnormalities. Your hands come to her ankles, pressing down as you look up at her face. “Does anything hurt? Stay lying down right now, your adrenaline might be blocking it out!”

“I'm Leah!” It’s rushed out, loud and with a voice crack. Her wide eyes staring up at you as she snaps a hand over her mouth afterwards.

If her teammates weren’t laughing before– they definitely are now.

A blush overtakes your cheeks as you put an arm around her waist, hoisting her to stand up with you. She throws one of hers around your shoulders as she regains her balance. “I’m taking her to the Med Room! Want to be sure she doesn’t have a concussion!”

You’re practically dragging her at this point, racing to get somewhere private because what in the actual fuck. "I'm Leah," She repeats her words from the field. "Yeah, I fucking know that!" you snap lightly on her. Mind still racing as you drag her down the building for a more private place to fully speak without worry. There is no way this is happening! Not to you– NOT NOW!! You push the Med Room door open with your back, and sit Leah up on the bed as you finally create some distance between you two. An accusing finger launching itself towards her as you move back to the middle of the room, “SINCE WHEN DO YOU PLAY FOOTBALL?”

“Nice to see you again, too, darling,” She’s smiling at you. That same one that got you hooked in Ibiza and agreeing to spend three weeks with a stranger. You almost get lost in it again– but you start shaking your head. “Oh no! No, no, no– don’t you darling me right now! How could you not tell me your-” your hand comes to pull at the band around her arm, “CAPTAIN! Of one of the best teams in all of Europe? And after spending all that time alone together, really?”

“First of all, we are not one of, we are the best in the world– thank you. Second of all, I don’t remember us talking much when we were together, if I can be honest. My mind tends to remember the more important details,” she licks her lips as she says it, eyes racking over your body as she recalls the memories to her mind. “And third of all, I don’t exactly remember you telling me you’re the highest paid AT in the sports field, so I guess we both kept some secrets. Huh, darling?”

“You are insufferable," you say as you take out your tiny flashlight, checking the reflexes of her pupils with it.

“Oh but that’s not what you were saying during those few weeks we spent together.”

“Leah!” Your face scrunches up as your fists ball up at your sides. Giving her the best glare you can muster up.

“Y/N! Don’t do your face like that– it’ll get stuck,” a laugh breaks out of her mouth as she says it. Poking at your face to relax your muscles there.

“Can you be serious for like two seconds, this is bad!” You rub your hands down your face. Trying to relieve the headache starting to form between your eyes.

"Oh calm down, would you! No one knows, okay? I didn't tell anyone about our time together. I swear!" She sticks her pinky out towards you, and you somehow find yourself laughing back this time as you extend your own to interlock with hers. It's then you know you've messed up. Her skin lights yours up the same way it did a year ago— you two hidden away on the tropical Spanish paradise. Days were spent exploring the island and endless nights spent exploring each other's bodies.

You don't even notice how close you two have drifted until her thighs are closing in around your middle, trapping you against the medical bed and her upper body. Your face flushes as you freeze in place, brain already too fuzzy for you to register that you should pull away. You can’t stop thinking back now– flashes of memories whizzing by in your head as you zone out, eyes lingering on her lips subconsciously. She must think that’s an invitation, because after a few seconds one of her hands comes to the back of your neck, pulling you into a searing kiss. You kiss her back at first, chasing the spark that ignites from her lips.

But then you remember where you are, and more importantly why you are even here. You got to pull away, hands coming up to her chest to push and create some space. She doesn’t budge though, a tiny moan slipping from your lips as you remember the depths of her strength. She smiles into the kiss at that, and you take the opportunity to breathe the words out against her lips. “Le-Leah we shouldn’t be d-doing this. We c-can’t…”

Her other hand tickles the waistband of your shorts, a light chuckle vibrating her chest as she pulls away to look you in the eyes. “I’ll stop if you really want me to, but I think we both know you want this more than me. Don’t you, darling? Otherwise you wouldn’t be humping the edge of the bed like a bitch in heat.”

You look down, not even realizing how you'd started rubbing your covered cunt against the medical bed. Your hips stutter to a stop as you try to back away from the cot, embarrassment filling your body at her catching you red handed. A finger lifts your chin up as her eyes lock to yours, a chill running down your spine as you cling to her every move. She runs her hand still sitting at your waist down to your hip, slipping under your shorts as goosebumps break out across your skin from her touch. “Don’t get shy on me, now. Not after I’ve seen you cum from grinding on a shoe.”

“Okay! Don’t act like you didn’t tell me to do it– no DEMAND it!” you move closer, pointing your finger into her chest now as you argue the claim.

“Mhm you’re right, Y/N…but you’re the one that did it. Got down on your knees,” she grips the hair at the back of your neck as she yanks your head back. “And rubbed your slutty pussy all over my Louboutins until you ruined them with your cum.” She brings her face down closer to yours, “Now open your fucking mouth.”

You do as she says, and you're met with a glob of her spit landing on your tongue. You swallow it before she even has to tell you, groaning out as you thank her for giving it to you. Her hand on your hip starts slipping around to your front after she feels you grinding forward again, giving you her fingers instead of the small spring mattress. You moan out as soon as they glide across your clit, an electric feeling breaking out across your body. You know this is wrong, and you’ll definitely chastise yourself later…but until then you’re gonna beg her to fuck you.

“Please give me your f-fingers! W-wanna cum for you, Le!” The distantly familiar nickname falls from your lips effortlessly and it fuels a fire inside Leah’s chest. She slides her hand farther into your shorts, instantly slipping two fingers inside of you at the start. Her palm is fitting your clit perfectly, and after a few minutes you can hear the squelching of your pussy from underneath your shorts. You can feel her curling, scissoring, and twisting the fingers inside of your cunt. Your legs are about to shake as you feel your orgasm start to build, moans increasing as your chest rises and falls faster. You can’t focus on anything other than Leah. That’s all your mind can think of: Leah, Leah, Leah…

Thank god she’s paying attention though. Because next thing you know she’s pulling her hand out of your shorts and pushing you back away from her so hard you fall on your ass. You let out a yell of shock as you go tumbling backwards, landing with a pretty loud thud onto the cold tile floor.

Before you can scream at her to explain what the fuck her problem is– the door is swinging open. Alessia barging in as she runs over to Leah. Stopping in her tracks as she almost topples over you. She comes to stop in a screeching halt, sticking a hand out to help you up. “What the hell are you doing on the floor?” She says as she drops your hand once you're back standing. “Well if you must know, Leah’s being stubborn and wouldn’t let me sit on the med bed with her because I’m benching her for practice until she gets her head checked by a CT scan.”

“YOU'RE BLOODY WHAT?” She screeches out at the realization.

“See she can’t even remember I already told her that! Definitely needs a ct,” you know you’re lying through your teeth…but fucking with Leah is too fun. No way you were telling her she’s benched when she had you on the verge of the first orgasm you’ve had…well, since the last time you saw her.

“What the hell even happened out there, Leah?” Alessia asks, a laugh busting out of her chest as she recalls the captain’s wipe out.

“I was lost in my head and just..oh god I’m never living this one down am I?”

“Oh god no! You should’ve heard the noise you made when you hit the pole– I've never heard that come out of a human being before, or any living thing for that matter!” She has tears welling up in her eyes now as she recalls the events.

You sneak out as the two blonde’s get lost in their laughs and conversation. The locker room is empty as you collect your things, humming a song under your breath as you make quick work of packing up. You’re walking out to the parking lot when you finally let yourself think of what just happened, fingers coming up to brush against your lips. You find yourself smiling, wiping it off your face when you notice. No, Y/N. Stay professional. This. cannot. happen again. Push it down.

You pull out your phone to order a new cab before a familiar voice grabs your attention. “I’m afraid there aren’t many cabs on this side of town at this time of night. I can give you a ride though. Only if you want, of course…But such a gorgeous girl as yourself? You really shouldn’t be walking home alone.”

You turn, forgetting the words you told yourself not even 5 minutes ago. Nodding your head before you fully process the request. You’re going to be alone in a confined space with her? FUCK. You folded quicker than a lawn chair for the blonde footballer not even 10 full minutes ago….Lord give you strength for this 20 minute drive.

She opens the door for you, holding an intense eye contact as she closes it as well. Her car smells like the leather seats and the piney notes of her perfume. A perfect mix that has you rubbing your thighs together, trying to dull the ache she never got to quell. She climbs into the drivers seat, setting up her aux before she's handing you her phone open onto her maps app.

You quickly type in your new address before the navigation is breaking through the speakers and leading you to your destination. The ride isn't awkward, filled with easily flowing conversation. You're so lost in it you don't even notice you've made it to your flat. Not until the gps is yelling out "Arrived at Destination."

You try to hide your disappointment as you grab your bags, saying a thank you as soon many questions hang in the air between you two. "Can I walk you up? Promise I won't make a move, just want to make sure you get inside okay." She throws her hands up in a defensive mode.

"Yeah, I'd like that," you push down the large part of your brain that is telling you to stop this dynamic. To kill it before it can manifest…but you don't listen to it. You let her take your hand as she walks you into your buildings elevator, and you let her kiss you soft and slow as the floors ding past you both. It's different from any kiss you've shared before, and that kind of scares you.

It scares you even more at your door, where she tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear and kisses you like that again. She's kissing you like she has something to prove…you're not quite sure what that is just yet…but you sure as hell want to find out. The first time Leah blew into your life, it was at a time of transformation. It was brief but truly wonderful, and now the universe is sitting her right in fucking front of you for a second time.

She's the first one to pull away from your lips this time. A smile pulling at her lips as she ducks back in to steal one more peck, and then she's backing away slowly. Her hands pulling yours with hers as she tries to leave you as slowly as possible. "Goodnight, Y/N."

You can't help the smile you break out into at the gesture, looking down as you blush slightly from the innocent statement. She's playing with your fingers now, and you're trying to memorize hers for the foreseeable future. "Goodnight, Le. And thank you for today. Always the gentleman…when you want to be."

She pushes your shoulder at that, "Oi! I'm always a gent!"

You blush as you think more about the Ibiza trip, "I would beg to differ."

She genuinely laughs at that, picking your hand up to her mouth to leave a kiss on your knuckles. You say goodnight to each other one last time before she leaves down the hall, watching her disappear into the elevator before you go inside your apartment. You both don't know it yet, but you end up finding the same resolution to your problems tonight.

As you both lay awake drowning in endless thoughts of each other, you can't help but slip a hand into your shorts. You're rubbing at your over sensitive clit, imagining it's Leah as you work yourself up. You haven't had time to buy any toys since you moved here, but you don't need them right now. Not when she's got you so wound up from barely any touch.

Meanwhile the blonde captain is slipping her trusty vibrator between her legs to stimulate her clit, the pretty pictures she has of you from Ibiza currently being viewed in her hand. From the one of you being blind folded in her hotel bed to the one of you bent over the railing of her private yacht— she can't stop the new filthy images of you from popping into her head. She's got to have you again, and not just for sex this time.

Leah hasn't stopped thinking of you since the trip, mind clouded with day dreams of you two creating a life together. She's been laughing it off, thinking she's delusional because she'll never see you again…but that disappears when you come waltzing back into her life. She knows now she can't waste this second chance. No matter how long or what all it takes: Leah Williamson is going to make you her girl.

[lololollywrites]

New fic alert! Wasteland, Baby (FTH 2024)

Whew. I finally posted Chapter 1 (out of a planned five). It turns out that waiting for it to be completely finished was unreasonable for me; I was just procrastinating too much. I've completely finished three chapters, and the final two are outlined. For that reason, once-weekly updates should allow me to write and revise in time, though I apologize in advance if the final two chapters come a bit later. I hope this keeps me in line! Thank you for the generous prompt and bid, @shakespearelovedladymacbeth, and your patience is truly appreciated! (Note: This isn't tagged as graphic depictions of violence, but Sherlock doesn't have a great time starting at the very end of Chapter 3 and into Chapter 4. It's all pretty canon-typical, but I wanted to warn you anyway!)

Summary:

Things hadn’t felt right in 221B since John and Rosie moved back in. Everything was off. Wrong. If only Sherlock knew it was about to get even worse. But, for vegetation to return to a barren wasteland, rain from thunderstorms is necessary. A brushfire, even, to burn away the old and provide nourishment for the new… and to expose a truth that’s been present all along.

Excerpt from Chapter 1:

He stumbled as he was yanked backwards by the chain of the handcuffs, Mr. Morrison’s cruel hand having snaked under his Belstaff to assert his control. John met his eye. He nodded once, almost harshly, in the regimented yet reassuring manner of a soldier. Sherlock knew he was painfully squeezing his hands together behind his back as if to punish himself; lips bitten red and a tightly clenched jaw also betrayed the worry behind his steely façade.

“I’ll kill him,” John said, terrifyingly calm. “I’ll kill him and bring you home. I will.”

@johnlocky, @totallysilvergirl, @discordantwords, @jrow, @missdeliadili, @battledress , @helloliriels , @mxster-jocale , @cortinita , @calaisreno , @mydogwatson , @original-welovethebeekeeper, @dragonnan , @winterdaphnejpn-blog , @kettykika78 , @algyswinburne , @7-percent , @peanitbear , @sgam76 , @ehuether , @inevitably-johnlocked , @naefelldaurk

[yamumsyadadd]

the forgotten girl (12)

originally posted on my old account, re uploading twice weekly :) I accidentally just deleted this, so here’s a re post. The next chapter will be tomorrow!

The days resumed as normal. Leah stayed for a few days, making sure I was okay. Keira was there everyday, Claudia and Patri would come for a few hours too, but the one person that I wanted to have there, stopped talking to me. After a week, I was fed up.

It was on a Tuesday, after coffee with Alba, that I truly lost it. Almost 10 days had passed and no matter how many times I rang or texted, Alexia wouldn’t answer. 

“Why is your sister such a pain in my ass?” I huffed as I sat down. 

“Well good morning to you gorgeous. Here’s your coffee.” She slid over a steaming cup, “what did she do this time?” 

“More like what she didn’t do.” 

“Okay I’ll bite. Continue.” 

“I told her I loved her too, she stayed the night and then we had a moment at the beach. I thought something was going to happen, and now she won’t even talk to me. At training, in the locker room, hell even at the game she barely spoke to me or came near me. I just don’t know what to do anymore.” 

“Hold on! You love her?” Alba was shocked. 

“Yes Alba. Catch up please.” 

“Jesus Christ. Okay, I’m supposed to go over for dinner tonight. You will go instead.”

“That’s a horrible plan.” 

“What’s the worse she’s going to do? Close the door in your face? She��s not that rude.” 

Begrudgingly I agreed. The only other plan I had was to corner her in the locker room, or hide in her car. Both seemed a little excessive. All I had to do is get through the next 5 hours of training with her. 

It was painful and seemed to drag on and on. My usual options for partners already partnered up with someone else. Claudia with Patri, Keira with Aitana, Lucy with Ona. I even asked the young girls who all gave me sympathetic smiles. There was one person left, the one person who has been working hard to ignore me. 

Alexia and I didn’t talk. Just did the drills as told. The tension was palpable, I just wanted to scream at her, to make her talk to me. Is this how she has felt for all those years? 

“What’s up with you and capi?” Claudia pulled me aside right as training finished. 

“Nothing Clau.” She gave me a look to say ‘I know you’re lying’, “okay I don’t know? I told her I loved her back and things have been weird since.” 

“You should talk to her.” 

“Wow thanks Claudia! I never thought of that.” It came out a lot harsher than I anticipated. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a bitch.” 

“It’s fine. Whatever you need, I got your back. Always.” With a quick hug she was gone. 

By the time I was home, showered and quickly tidied up it was time to go. I had a stop to make before going to Alexias, as I hated turning up empty handed. Alba was waiting outside when I arrived. 

“Stand over there so she can’t see you on the intercom. Once she buzzes in, go into the elevator, to the 16th floor. It’s apartment 1604, just knock on the door and force your way in.”

“Sounds like a horrible idea. Why did I agree to this.” 

“Just do what I said and it’ll all work out.” Alba sighed. Her plan worked. Alexia buzzed her up straight away. 

Alba left, leaving me to do this alone. The elevator seemed to take forever, trying to remember Albas directions but also trying not to freak out and be angry at Alexia. The elevator stopping at the 16th floor ripped me out of my thoughts. 

1604.

All I had to do was knock. Not that hard. First I needed to calm myself down, slowly walking up and down the hallway taking deep breathes. Before i realised what I was doing, I had knocked. 

“Amelia? What are you doing here?” 

“We need to talk.” I pushed my way in. “Here I got you this.”

“You got me a bottle of water?” She was confused

“Yes. I couldn’t come here empty handed and you don’t drink during the season, and you don’t drink soft drink or juice or anything so water was the best option.” 

She made herself comfortable on her couch, looking up at me expectantly. I was Pacing around her living room, lost in my own head. 

“You’re going to put a hole in my floor Amelia.”

“Why have you been ignoring me?” 

“I haven’t. I’ve been giving you the space you need.” 

“No Alexia! You told me to stop running from you, you begged me to stop and I did. Is this you paying me back for running from you? For breaking your heart? Is that what this is?” 

“What? No!” 

“Then what! Because I told you I loved you for fuck sake. I want to try even though I don’t know how! So tell me Alexia!” Angry tears fell from my eyes, hastily wiping them away. 

“Keira and Leah said I need to give you time and space. To wait for you to come to me. I was just trying to help.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything to me? I thought that day on the beach meant something? I tried to come to you but you wouldn’t let me! For fuck sake.” I turned away from her, deciding it was time to leave but before I could get grabbed my arm, pulling me into her. 

“It did mean something - it does mean something. You’re not leaving. I made dinner for me and Alba but you’re going to sit, we are going to eat, talk, whatever. Then I will drive you home but you’re not leaving Amelia. I will not let you leave.” 

Our bodies were so close, I could feel her heart beat, the warm of her skin, I could see every little freckle on her face, every single thing she would say was imperfect. Her tongue poked out of her mouth, slightly wetting her lips. Her very perfect, kissable lips. 

Without overthinking it, I moved forward, my hands cupping her face, her hands holding my waist. We both leaned in it at the same time. Our lips meeting and fitting like a puzzle piece. It was messy, hot and desperate. She pulled me in closer, trying to get more. We both pulled away from a lack of oxygen. 

“Not the talk I had in mind.” Her forehead resting on mine, a light chuckle came out of my lips. We stayed like that for a moment, afraid of what would happen when we pulled away. It was disrupted by the sound of my stomach. 

“Come. Sit. I made paella.” Alexia ushered me to the dining table. The paella was good, not as good as Eli’s but still good. One of Alexias secret talents was that she could cook, and she’s was good at it. Not many people got to see that side of her, or really any side of her. After we had finished, I took the plates and started to clean, it was the least I could do. 

“Mil, stop. Please. I can deal with them later.”

“It’s fine ale. Just let me do this for you, please.” She didn’t argue after that, just grabbed a tea towel and started drying then packing away the clean dishes. It only took 10 minutes with the both us of until the kitchen was spotless, which would easy some of Alexia’s stress. 

She led me to the lounge room, making me sit on the couch, while she sat on the coffee table, her large hands wrapped around mine. 

“Let’s talk, yes?” She was anxious, but firm. Wanting to get this over and done with. 

“I love you. Really really love you Ale. And I have for as long as I have known you, but it never worked out. When-when I met Emily, she was different to you. She didn’t care what people thought about her, she was free. It felt like a breath of fresh air, and I’m not saying that you need to change or anything because I don’t want that. I just want you to understand.”

“Sí, continúa.” I could practically hear her brain working in over drive. 

“When you and Jenni broke up, Jenni texted me. Telling me that she should’ve ended things with you a long time ago because it was clear you were in love with me and not her. Then you told me you loved me in a romantic way. I freaked out. I drove to fucking Manchester, I basically broke into Keira and Lucy’s house, walking in on them having sex. That was horrific.” I took a deep breath. 

“I thought that I could love Emily as much as I loved you, I had already started falling in love with her, and I knew she loved me. When she proposed I said yes. I wish I didn’t but I did. Then we got married and I didn’t want to invite you. Had you told me not to marry her, I wouldn’t have. I would’ve left with you. Emily realised this. She wrote a letter, the day before she died. She was leaving me because I love you. I had been feeling so shitty about marrying her, making her love me with her whole heart when I couldn’t love her with my whole heart.” Tears started rolling down my face, Ale giving my hand a squeeze. 

“It’s okay. Take your time.” 

“When I got home, she was already hurt. Tied to the chair in front of the TV. I remember the feeling of them grabbing me, the blood running down my face. I remember the screams she let out when they cut my clothes off me or when they, they entered me. She wouldn’t stop screaming and trying to get someone to help so they killed her. But someone heard because I remember hearing sirens after they sliced my back. Then they were gone and she was just sitting there, blood all over her and I couldn’t move. I remember everything, everything that was said at the house, the way some of the police officers vomited outside, the way the ambulance smelt and how fast it went. I remember Keira and Leah screaming outside the hospital room, or Jill holding my hand and talking to me. 

I thought that I would be okay. I was focused on my rehab, the thought of returning to the pitch, to be better, play better for her. Then the funeral happened and the trial. Your mums softness is what broke me. The way she would constantly call me every morning when she was having her coffee, knowing I’d just woken up and was getting ready to go to rehab, or the way she’d find a way to send me paella every Sunday. I don’t know if she told you but I visited her a lot. She made me feel like I was getting better, that things would get better. Then when I saw you at the champions league game, I remembered how much I loved you. How soft but tough your hands were, how fiercely protective you were, everything. And I thought I could try with you.” 

I needed to stop. To compose myself and let it sink in. I could tell Alexia needed a moment too. Her thumb never stopped rubbing over the back of my hand, it was comforting, she was comforting. 

“When we had sex, I wanted to be in control of it and you let me. I didn’t know it would cause me to break but it did. I wasn’t ready for it. Watching you lay there, asleep, cuddled up into me broke my heart because I realised I couldn’t give you more. You deserved more. So I left. The plan was to just go for a few weeks and then come back and talk to you. But those few weeks turned into months, then into years. I would search you on instagram and it seemed like you were doing great without me, so I didn’t come back. I watched your games. All of them. I watched you lose the champions league, watched you win it, watched Spain lose the euros, then win the World Cup. I wanted to reach out when you did your ACL but I couldn’t. You deserved peace during that time. Then I saw you and the girls, and you were dating Olga, who is lovely by the way. She was very sweet. I wasn’t planning on coming back. I was content with the way I was living. Then I saw the open training and decided to come for a bit, not really sure why, but I did. After that I craved to be back on the pitch. To play. Not necessarily for Barcelona or Chelsea. I would’ve been happy to play in a friendly league honestly, but Eloise rang me and told me Jona wanted me to come, even just to train so I did. Everything was suddenly feeling better, but I wanted more. I wanted you. I couldn’t have you though so I was going to settle to just be an outsider, atleast then I could see you, and see what was happening in your life without invading it. But then-“

“Olga and I broke up and I told you I loved you?” She was staring straight at me. Pure admiration all over her face, no pity or anger, just love. 

“Yeah. And here we are. I, uh, I haven’t told anyone all that. The finer details. It would’ve destroyed Keira and Leah. Lucy would’ve lost her shit.” 

“Thank you for telling me Mil.” She stood up, pulling me into a hug. The tightest hug she could, as if she was trying to put all the pieces back together. 

“If you want to try this, us, we can. We will go as slow as you want, there is no pressure. It’ll be on your timeline, and I will understand if you need to stop but you need to tell me okay.” 

She cupped my face with her hands, “no more running away from me. Or anyone.” 

“I promise Ale.” I smiled at her, she was willing to take her time, she was in it for the long haul. 

“Let me take you home?” 

“No it’s okay, I drove here. I’ll see you at training?” 

“Wait! Do you want to get coffee before? No pressure?” The shy Alexia was coming out, not wanting to push her luck. 

“Alexia Putellas, are you asking me on a date?” 

“No? Yes? Whatever you want it to be.” 

“If it’s a date, then yes. I would love to get coffee with you tomorrow.” 

She released a breath, “it’s a date then.” 

After a final hug goodbye, a promise to text her when I got home, I was out the door. A weird feeling settled inside of me. Grateful to be able to share what I did, but also anxious. Anxious about starting this with her, about her knowing what happened, even if it’s not in the greatest detail. The next step was to tell Leah, then keira. Keira had to be last because it would break her, maybe Lucy could be there too. 

[bobawitch]

Sweater Weather | M.S.

summary: reader makes a crochet sweater for her boyfriend matt. she later sees him wearing it in their next podcast

pairing: matt x fem!reader

a/n: tbh i dont love this fic but i hope yall like it. a nick fic and a chris fic as well as a new chapter of lets trip are on their way so be on the lookout.

wc: 878

cw: fluff, that should be it

Matt had been your boyfriend for almost 2 years by now. You had been in plenty of videos and even a few podcasts and for the most part the fans really loved you. That had been a huge concern for you and Matt, so when the fans had an uproar of support and love you found yourself feeling much more comfortable.

On that specific day you had been crocheting while watching some of the triplets videos along with some of Larray’s. You had wanted to make Matt a sweater ever since you started crocheting but you had kept this little project a secret. Your phone began to ring and you looked down to see a facetime from Matt. Immediately you grabbed your phone and picked up, smiling at Matt’s face. “Hey baby” You smiled and waved at Matt through the phone, setting it up so he could only see your face. “Hi love, how’s your day been?” You continued to crochet the last few rows of the sweater, smiling down at your work. “Good, we just got done filming for Friday. How has yours been?”  You shrugged and began folding the sweater. It wasn’t the best work but it looked good enough that you didn’t feel the need to remake it. It was blue and white and black, it was fluffy and had some skulls and hearts on it. “Good, I’ve been working on a little something for you actually.” Matt’s eyes grew wide and he made a small o with his mouth before smiling.” “Can I see??” You grinned and shook your head. “No but you can come over and I’ll give it to you.” Matt fake pouted before you heard some rustling. Soon after you hear a few keys jingling. “I’ll be over in 10.” You nodded, biting your thumb nail with a smile. “Ok, see you soon.” The call hung up shortly after and you turned off the TV before properly folding up the sweater and putting it in an old present bag. 

After a few more minutes you hear your front door open and you walk around the corner to find Matt. You immediately give him a hug, burying your face in his chest. “Hey love, you miss me?” Matt chuckled through his question since you hugged him so harshly. You mumbled and nodded, smiling and looking up at him. “Yeah.” He smiled down at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You wanna see your gift?” Matt eagerly nodded before letting you go. You grabbed his hand before leading him into your living room. You grabbed the little bag and handed it to him, smiling and watching him open the gift. He pulled the pale blue sweater from the bag and a big smile crossed his lips as he examined it. “Oh my god, did you make this?” You nodded with a sheepish grin across your face. “Oh my god, Y/N! I love it!” Your cheeks became warm and you moved to hug Matt who enveloped you quickly. He hugged you tight around the waist and picked you up, spinning you in a circle before kissing you. You kissed back, your hands finding their way in his messy hair. Soon you pulled away and smiled at the boy. Your forehead rested against his as you both caught your breath. "Are you gonna wear it all the time?" You asked, knowing your question came from a teasing place. Matt grinned wide, finally setting you down and allowing his hands to rest lazily on your hips. "Of course I am. I'm tempted to never take it off, baby." Your cheeks tinted pink at his reply, mainly because you knew he was dead serious. Your own lips curled into a smile as you wrapped your arms around his waist in a tight hug.

About 5 days later you got the notification that Matt and his brothers had posted their weekly podcast. You of course planned to watch it but as you went to click on the video you noticed what Matt was wearing in the thumbnail. It was the sweater you had made him. You smiled to yourself, biting the top of your thumb nail before pressing play on the video. You finished the video and started scrolling through the comments, a few were about Matt’s outfit which made you grin from ear to ear. As you basked in the glory of having both Matt and his fairly harsh fans like your sweater, your phone began to ring. It was a facetime from Matt. You picked up and smiled, “I liked your outfit in the podcast baby.” Matt grinned and moved the camera to show that he was still wearing it. “When did you guys film that podcast?” “Oh like, the day after you gave it to me.” You smiled, nodding in a sudden understanding. “Well I’m glad you like it.” Matt smiled, bringing his phone closer to him, as if he could hug you through the screen. “I love it baby, thank you so much for making it for me.” Your cheeks became warm as you mimicked his movements, holding the phone close to you. “I love you Matt.” You said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I love you too Y/N.” 

[honestsycrets]

querido i: a reward of 2099 | outlaw!miguel o'hara x reader

❛ pairing | outlaw!miguel o'hara x reader

❛ type | doubleshot; chapter is safe for work.

❛ summary | it's been a long time since you've been with miguel o'hara. when your daughter gabriella finds his wanted poster, life starts to unravel.

❛ tags | mention of murder and minor character death, hidden pregnancy, western au, spanish not translated, outlaw!miguel, baby-mama!reader, slight cursing, angst, threats.

❛ sy's notes | here's to listening to the civil wars' devil backbone one too many times. i needed a break from filling most requests, so i only incorporated one very lightly in this piece.

“Mamá, 2099 is a strange amount for a reward, isn’t it?”

Your daughter was a mischievous girl just like her father. She tore down the poster that was tacked up on the homely post office’s bulletin board as you gathered the weekly post. Coming into town was always a bit of a laborious task. With goods to gather and a little girl to socialize, you made it into town once every week.

"Sure is," Jackson the postman said.

“Thank you,” you plucked mail from the man’s dark hands. “I’ll see you next week.”

He wore a warm, kind smile. Working in the post office, he always seemed to be well-versed in what was going on in everyone’s life. His coal-black eyes shone warmly at you.

“Take care now, there’s wild men out there. What with Peter gone and all, you sure you girls will be okay out there? Rio’d sure put up Gabi and you at the hostel.”

Gabi scrunched up her face tight like a screw being twisted into a board.

“That’s real sweet of you to worry but I’m sure we’ll be fine. We've been out there nine years now. I’ll see you next week, sí? ” You tucked your post into a basket that dangled on your elbow, pulling long and heavy skirts to avoid trampling them with your boots as you opened the door.

“See ya then!”

Gabriella stepped out first, pulling on your lace sleeves as a cue for her delayed answer. She wouldn’t butt into a conversation, but she always seemed to hold her questions for a better time. You sighed, looking at the pale wooden buildings. Saloon, feed store, bank, and the occasional hostel. Over the last decade, the town seemed to flourish, bringing all manner of people to your once tiny Spanish town.

“I suppose they didn’t wanna give the extra coin out, Gabi.”

She looked back to the paper in her hands.

“Wanted dead or alive. Notorious badman Miguel O’Hara, 38, native of Nueva… why that’s here, mama!”

Your blood chilled. Congealed even. The sun nearly blinded you, even with the hat that kept the hot sun off of your head. You stepped off the doorway and onto the dusty ground, spinning on your heel to face your little girl with your dark blue fan in your hands, waving the heat of the day off your flushed skin.

“Wanted for--”

You swiped the paper from her fingers.

“That’s about enough of that. We best get on our way, we got goods to buy, the undertaker to see, and a new dress to fit for your papá’s funeral.”

“I was just reading it. In case we see him?”

“We won’t. It’s been a time since he’s shown himself around these parts. You have no business looking at-- that kinda man. He’s a troublemaker. Now get in the cart, let’s not dolly around.”

You would know.

“O—okay, mamá.”

“I’m sorry, Gabi, I don't mean to yell. You’re all I got, preciosa,” you wedged the paper into a new bible, right next to your wooden rosary, and flung it into the basket.

"I know."

You started ahead of her, fussing with your white veil, sparing no expense to the many questions that she had that day. You had just as many questions as she did.

You just couldn’t articulate them to a grieving little girl.

Do you think it's a boy or girl? the seamstress asks a woman in her shop. She fashions all sorts of fashions from birth to death. Her store is stuffed to the brim with frilly and lacy baptismal dresses. Your gaze fell on her belly, tracing the curve.

"Una niña," she says. Her voice triggers something old, some ancient memory you've suppressed. His voice in your ear, a soft kiss on your head. You're sitting there, next to the little girl that he always wanted, haunted by the flood of memories that comes with looking at another woman's pregnant belly.

"You're not like the others. Aren't men supposed to want sons?" you teased him. Miguel snorted, his arm underneath your neck as he gazed up at a sky of glittering stars. The air was lightly warm, a light wind fluttering through the tall grass. Post-relation bliss was warm on his skin, peaceful and quiet.

"For what? Men are jealous of sons," he muttered, shifting his head to kiss the top of your head. "Little girls are... the light in their lives. I'm going to call mine Gabriella. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"That's a real pretty name."

"Sure is. ¿por qué?"

You didn't tell him why. That you hid a secret underneath the layers of your dress. A secret that you knew Miguel would have more than an issue with if he knew.

"Mamá?" Gabi shakes your arm, "Mamá we're next."

Your mind likes to pull mean tricks on you.

Wanted for double murder.

Miguel O’Hara was always somewhere between a hangman’s knot and three mouths to feed. For you, the latter. You were under no illusion of the sort of man Miguel was.

Every look at your daughter’s soft, peaceful face at night reminded you of him. You worried that the more she looked at posters of Miguel, peered into an artist’s rendition of Miguel’s slight, sultry eyes, lush lips, and strong jaw-- she might be able to locate the similarities when she looked at herself. That was why you had to take the flyer from her. The artist sure had a fine hand at drawing him, the man who danced in your dreams by a warm fire and stayed up late counting the stars. He’s gotten thicker, you thought. You sat on the rocking chair as she slept peacefully, rocking back and forth on the chair.

A violent knocking at the front door swept you free from your thoughts. You snatched up the silver lantern, yanked a fine ivory rebozo over your shoulders, and rushed down the stairs. The booming knocking became louder, more urgent. The movement was mechanical, with no husband to answer the door for you, you checked the window first. The man who stood there was not a man you’d want to see. Not now, not back then. He had a wicked face that sat beneath a wide-brimmed hat that obscured the balding spot on top of his head.

God, not him. He was obsessed.

“Buenas noches, Doña O’Hara,” he peeped into the window.

“Bendito, don’t call me that,” you rushed out, the heavy wooden door slamming to a close behind you. “I’ve told you already, he is not here.”

“And I don’t believe you. First, your man-loving husband dies. Next, sightings of Miguel a town over. ¿Qué piensas? Hm? What comes after that?”

“My husband was trampled, Aaron. By a bull. He was a hard-working man who worked with violent cattle. These accidents happen. Why don’t you ask the undertaker?”

He wouldn’t. Although you don’t think Aaron is a complete idiot, he surely has his own motivations for which leads to follow and which leads to ignore. Your husband’s death was one of them.

“I’ll tell you what comes next. You come next. It’s only logical that he would come back to you. You have his daughter and all. Or… does he not know about that? I seem to recall him running out of here like a bat outta hell.”

“You’ve checked my property three times. Barn, basement, home. It’s been nine years, Aaron. Gloria a Dios, he’s probably remarried and forgotten me by now.”

“Not according to my reports.”

You hate the twinge of delight that comes from that admission. Your cheeks warm with blood, highlighting the rouge that sits across your cheeks. He chuckles caustically at how easily it shuts you up. Aaron takes a step forward, his deep leather boots creaking along the aged floorboards.

“What’d you want me to do with that information?”

“If he comes to see you, and I know he will,” he reached out for your chin. Your hand connects with his, shoving him back. “Tell me. You know, it’s a crime to kill another man without good cause.”

“You wanna catch Miguel for your own reasons, Aaron. Don’t bring none of that holier-than-thou bullshit to my footstep.”

“She can curse,” he laughs again. “Here I thought you were a good Christian woman.”

“Don’t try me,” He tries to corral you against the door. You flip your skirts up, his eyes following the motion. You seize the handgun strapped to your thigh, threatening to pull it on him. Aaron slides back, holding his calloused hands up. "Get off my property."

“I’m just saying. If you see him, you know where to find me. Who knows, you and I could work a lil something out.”

Even if you knew where he was, you would be hard-pressed to turn him into Aaron Delgado. You knew Miguel O’Hara would kill him. So, really, it was for his good. You watched him beat down the squeaky steps and mount his horse, fading into the distance of dark, twinkly stars. You probably shouldn’t be praying that robbers got ahold of him.

But only Diosito could judge you for that.

You dipped down to pick the lantern up, stepping off the steps to ensure that he was not just off your property, but properly gone. Then, seeing him set off toward town, you gazed up at the deep night sky. It was littered with an abundance of stars, massive and twinkling brilliantly. Miguel’s favorite constellations shone brightly in the sky. The Anglo called it-- Orion’s belt. Around here, it was named for the hunter: the deer, the pronghorn, and the sheep. You count each of the stars on your way back indoors to sleep in your empty bed.

You prayed Aaron’s hunt would be fruitless that night.

With your husband's untimely death came several complex decisions. Namely, what to do with his cattle hands and the animals under your care. You were fortunate enough to have support from the community in caring for the cattle, but you knew human affection did not last forever. You could sell his property at a scam of a price as a woman or you could keep it and work bitterly on the farm.

Or, as Aaron suggested today in the cover of concern, you could remarry yet again. It was nearly the only good option. Working wasn’t sustainable when you had a little girl to raise and a whole host of children to teach, as you always had. It would be nearly impossible to find someone like your dearly departed husband who knew your situation and couldn’t care less about it.

It’s good for a lil girl to have a father, he says. You know that-- but Aaron should be no one’s father. Not Gabriella’s. Miguel would’ve never approved. Neither did you.

You loosened beads of sweat from your hair as you returned inside, the ends of your skirt matted with dust. Gabriella would return home from school soon and you were fully intent on feeding her a slice of fresh peach pie.

You made your way into your home, your boots between your fingers. The smell of a smoky hearth piqued your attention. It didn’t arise from your great big wood stove that sat against the wall, ready to cook fresh tortillas, but the sort of hearth settled in the deep outdoors.

“Dios mío.”

Miguel sat there, plain as a field flower. His fingers tapped over the heavy wooden table, rolling in succession. He’s older than you remember-- jaw peppered with dark facial hair, his hair dark and wild, set away from his kind eyes that caught yours as quickly as you caught his. You dropped your boots at your feet, backing up once, twice.

“Don’t run, you won't get far,” his voice trilled, low and warm. Beside his sombrero on the table sat a thick rope and his gun, you don’t want to know which one he was planning to use today. His head twisted, a mused smile growing on his face. “You look so surprised, amor. You had to know I was coming.”

The nickname cut more than it used to. You had not been someone’s amor in a very long time. Married strictly by the weight of paper, you don’t exactly recall what the fleeting emotion of love felt like. Wisps of it licked a dead flame to life in your stomach.

“Miguel.”

“You look gorgeous,” Miguel hummed, turning his impossibly broad arms one over the other. You don’t remember him being this thick. He lurches onto his leather boots, taking a few practiced steps closer. Brilliant, you think, you’ve languished years thinking of this moment just to smell of sweat and cow shit. You suppose he’s smelled worse as an outlaw, a name that doesn’t quite fit the handsome man before you.

“You were always a bad liar.”

“Look, not smell.”

“My point stands,” you say.

Your normally practiced updo has gone frizzy, bits of hair escaping the clips that kept it flat against your head. Miguel’s eyes flickered over the strands, then down to your skin flush with blood and exhaustion.

“Mine too.”

You stared at him a moment longer before you found yourself laughing, just a light-- a small thing that you had failed to do over the past week. His death, and the subsequent funeral, was all too miserable. Now he was here and for a moment, just a brief thing, everything didn’t feel so earth-shatteringly dire.

He cracks a smile, drawing his hand to your flyaways, soothing it down against your head. You should be more angry at him-- settling you with a baby like he did and disappearing into the long grass with Widow and not a word more.

“I missed you,” you said quietly. His hand falls away from your head, drifting past his dark blue vest, and hooking at the fat metal belt buckle. “Pero… why are you here?”

“I heard Peter passed,” he said in a practiced tone. “I was a few towns over. Seeing how he’s taken good care of you all these years, I dropped in to say my dues to him. Came to see my girl too.”

The grief may not be readable in his eyes, but you know he’s practiced it in the same way you did for your Gabriella. Her only daddy was gone, deep in the cold earth. His words echoed in your ears, cutting through your grief bright and resonant. You wonder if he knew, but logically, you knew he couldn’t. Miguel always wanted to be a father.

“Who’d that be?”

“You,” Miguel turns your name over, making your name sound beautiful and light on his tongue. It’s sweet, like the peach pie cooling in your aged windows.

“After all these years?"

"Claro."

"You... shouldn't be here. You’re a wanted man,” you said. “Aaron is looking for you. You know that, right?”

“He's nothing to be concerned about.” Miguel shrugged off your suggestion. "I'm only wanted in these parts."

“Where else is there?” you said

“Out West. South. You take your pick,” Miguel lifted his hand, tracing your parched lower lip. “It don't matter to me. I seen all manner of places, like it here more than anywhere.”

"There's nothing here."

"Nothing but you."

You felt your stomach swoop, a delight filling it better than any meal you’d had. You parted your lips to say something else, to find a response that would fit-- to tell him the truth. But he left you then, came back when something fit better than the road. You wonder what fortune he must have made on the road that he’d come back. His hand caressed your cheek, rubbing it as if to soothe you. It didn’t.

“You think you can just go and come back like nothing happened? After what you did?”

The front door squeaked, dragging with a long hiss. Miguel peered over your shoulder as if it were instinctual, his hand snapping to the gun on his hip. You stopped him short of seizing his handgun. Gabriella bobbed in, closing the door tightly shut behind her. She wore a plain blue dress, fine ribbon braided in the updo she had on that day. She takes a few short steps forward before realizing who you were talking to.

“Mamá, I’m home!” she gasped. “That’s the man in the— in the flyer mamá--”

“Gabi go to your room.”

“I’m not--”

“Gabriella,” your voice went soft but stern. Nearly apologetic. You had been so hard on her lately. Miguel’s eyes dropped from Gabriella’s huge, doe-like eyes to her nose, then lips. His eyes sharpened, whipping back to look at you. “Por mí, okay? He won’t hurt me. Te prometo.”

She darted up the many steps to her room.

"Gabriella?" He stared at you uncomprehendingly. He quickly goes quiet, searching your eyes for something. You worry that he’s found the truth, your breath light as you walked over to your wooden stove, checking the flame and setting a pot of water that you brought from a nearby creek to bathe with. He follows you to the stove.

“My daughter is home. You should go,” you remarked, less of a command than a meek statement, floundering on your lips at the end. As delightful as it sounded, running off into some other territory, town, or world with Miguel-- it was unfeasible and irresponsible to be with a man whose name was stapled on the bulletin boards towns over.

“How old is she?”

"That's none of your business." Your outlaw hovers over you, absorbing the space, a bundle of heavy muscle and rage that plumes off his skin like the smell of sweat on your skin. It’s almost as if he can smell the regret seeping off your skin, despite knowing you couldn’t have done anything differently. No one told him and you could not reach him. Whatever the reason he stayed away, you were not the one he reached out to for updates.

“Tell me,” he growls, waves of anger causing his voice to shake. The tone is heartless, empty of the nights together, of slipping off with the old cattle hand at night and day, in the barn and the field. You’re stuck in the memory of your lovemaking with your vaquero, now your outlaw man. You missed him.

“Don’t do this. She could be listening.” You pad away from the stove to the window with the hope that he wouldn’t follow. He backs you up into the wall, his calloused hands so tight on his belt that you could draw lines of tension through his veins.

“You're not telling me because she’s mine,” he’s whispering, the words going through your chest, fizzling out into terrible pain. He reaches out, squeezing your hips to keep you put. Miguel leans into your space and buries you in his overwhelming scent.

“What do you want me to say?” you stare at his prominent muscles, the shift that is thrown open to expose his skin. He cups your jaw and throat with his large hand, forcing you to confront the truth. Your eyes blink closed, bits of tears dripping there. Miguel doesn’t have the patience for pity, or empathy, whichever the two you were looking for right then.

“I want you to tell me the truth. It's not hard.”

“Me telling you the truth changes a whole lot of nothing. You're putting her life at risk just being here. You're an outlaw,” you say, trying his rapidly evaporating patience. "You got a bounty on your head."

"It changes it all," he shoves you back into the window, a choked cry slipping from your throat. He doesn’t mean to hurt you, he meant to have the truth. Distantly, you were aware of Gabriella’s feet beating down the steps. You’re relatively certain she’d never gone all the way up to her room. In this creaky house you would have heard her door shut, the floorboards bounce. In either case, there’s no point running away from what you both know to be true.

“Sí, she’s your daughter,” you mustered the words in a bid to get it over with. Miguel always had to get his way. “Now what?”

Miguel flicked a look over his shoulder, marked by the heavy drag of his weighted firearm skidding across the wooden table. A life on the run will do that. Gabriella’s tiny hands slipped around his handgun.

“That ain't true!”

“Gabriella,” you cut her short. “Gabi, bebe, put that down.”

Miguel took a step back, pulling his head back slightly as you shifted in front of him. Her tiny head shook, over and over, tears pricking her bright brown eyes. You fooled yourself into thinking that she wouldn’t listen-- because your Gabi was a good girl. A wonderful good girl who liked nothing more but running in the field with the boys and brightly colored ribbons laced into her braids. She was also a mischievous girl who had been trying really, really hard to be good for you this week. Children had their limits.

“My papá is dead,” she said, her fingers trembling about the thing. Miguel’s head tilted in response, expecting you to take care of it. “His name was Peter and-- he liked sunsets and fluffy chocolate calves and--”

“Badly made blankets,” Miguel said lowly. Gabi lowered the gun, slowly, just an inch or two. “Shorn fabrics, uneven stitching, ugly colors.”

“He liked to make you smile-- be helpful,” he added. You snapped to look at Miguel as he rose his hand to his hips, gazing at the floor and rocking. He waits another moment, noting how Gabriella’s head nodded, rubbing away the tears that dripped off the corner of her eyes with her shoulder. She set the gun down on the table.

“You knew my papá?” she turns her arms one over another. “How?”

“He was my friend.”

“Mamá?” she looked toward you, seeking an answer from someone who wasn’t a face on a wanted paper with a reward of 2099 dollars.

“Peter was your papá but-- Miguel is your padre, mija,” you breathed hard, exhausted from years of suppression. She looks at you, not used to this level of betrayal. Her eyes are distant, somewhere in her tiny memories. She whips around and runs out the back door. Miguel turns his eye out the window, her tiny body disappearing into the deep green fields. The sun blinds your eyes as you look out to the fields full of cattle. He reaches for his rope and gun, settling them in their respective places.

“¡Déjala! She needs time alone.”

He heads out the backdoor. He never did listen well.

[dark-fics-4-you]

Ahhh you knocked it out of the park!!! Thank you for doing my request (somno step bro Rafe). Would love if you did more or some virginity loss or something :) I feel like reader would catch Rafe being hard around her accidentally and get innocently curious

Saving the spicy stuff for a main chapters but I was inspired by this ask so here’s a lil blurb 😏

Rafe sat on the couch, scrolling through your instagram feed. Pic after pic of you at parties, past halloween costumes that were much too skimpy for you to be posting for just anyone to see, and photos of you posing with friends filled your profile.

He paused on a beach pic that you had posted a few weeks ago. Sarah was an excellent photographer, and you two frequently did little photoshoots together for each other.

You were in the sand, lying on your back on a blue beach towel, propped up by your elbows with your legs stretched out. The white bikini you were wearing barely covered anything, and Rafe could see your hardened nipples poking through the thin material.

His tongue darted between his lips, pants tightening as he grew hard. Rafe took a screenshot, saving the pic to his folder of his favorite pictures of you.

When he heard the door open behind him, he quickly pocketed his phone, glancing over his shoulder to see you bouncing in with a grin.

“Hey Rafey, I was looking for you!”

“C’mere bunny.” He gestured for you to come closer.

He wasn’t expecting you to climb into his lap for a hug.

You threw your legs over his lap, wrapping your arms around his chest and squeezing him in a hug.

Rafe tensed, trying to think about anything other than his adorable lil step sis sitting in his lap. Despite his efforts, he could feel himself getting harder as you squirmed.

“Do you think we could make a liquor run soon? I have that party with Sarah and John B and the other guys tonight!” You were clearly excited about the get together, a little too excited for Rafe’s comfort.

“You’re actually going to that?” Rafe asked in annoyance, trying to focus on something other than your bare thighs so close to him.

“I mean yeah, they’re my friends! I like hanging out with John B, Pope, Kie, and JJ!”

At the mention of JJ’s name, Rafe’s jaw tightened, jealously flashing through him.

He knew that JJ was just like all the other Pogues. No good trash from the Cut, who would steal and lie to get what they want. But Rafe’s qualms with JJ went beyond just Kook vs Pogue war.

Rafe knew that JJ liked you. It’s not like he had to be an genius to notice, he had seen JJ staring at you so many times that he had grown accustomed to hating the other blond even more than the rest of the Pogues.

JJ was nothing but bad news. The type of guy that slept around and broke new girl’s hearts weekly. The type of guy who would eat you alive if given the chance.

And the thought of JJ putting his hands on you, or even thinking about putting his hands on you, made Rafe want to explode with rage.

“You’ve been hanging around those pogues a lot recently,” Rafe spat out, jaw clenching.

“Ugh lighten up, Rafey. I’m here now, aren’t I?” You asked in annoyance as you rolled your eyes, shifting on his lap.

Rafe bit back a groan at the motion, passing it off as a cough.

“Damn Rafe, you gotta stop smoking, it’s already affecting your lungs,” you teased lightly, completely unaware of what he was hiding from you.

“Mm, hmm, you’re right bunny,” he said, distracted, mind somewhere much different than yours.

Suddenly, he remembered your plans for the night, and he was overwhelmed with the desire to keep you from going out, “you should stay in tonight, Y/N/N. We can watch a movie, one of your favorites. Plus I’ll make you all the drinks you want.”

“Mmm,” you considered his offer for a moment before making up your mind with an excited smile. “Okay! That sounds nice!”

When you shifted again, you noticed something poking at your ass.

“Rafeyy, do you have something in your pocket?”

“Oh uh, yeah, just my phone, Y/N/N,” Rafe lied.

And like the dumb, trusting little sister you were, you believed him.

[chukys-mouthguard]

broken memories - pt. 2

sequel to kinda tempting

3k words | loosely proof read

genre: fluff/angst

featuring: mat barzal x female reader x matt rempe

warnings: mentions of loss of pregnancy

previous chapter

It had been a month since you had broken the news to Matt about your baby. He was temporarily living with Jonathan Quick as he continued his offseason training to prepare for camp. The two of you kept in touch, often checking in on one another as you both navigated the stages of grieving.

You still talked on the phone at least twice a week, things remaining very cordial between you, which you appreciated. Never wanting to lose Matt entirely, hoping that you could remain friends despite everything.

Mat Barzal on the other hand, wasn’t being much of a friend as he’d yet to return any of your texts. Including your text you’d sent the night of the fight with Matt when he packed his things and left.

While you understood he was engaged and happy with someone else, he did promise that you could still reach out to him whenever you needed. Yet maybe that was simply a meaningless comment of comfort at the time, not something that held any true intent behind it.

You had finally started to feel like your normal self, getting fully back into work and preparing for the upcoming season. The organization pleasantly surprised you as they did not intend to fire you despite your relationship with Rempe, of course now that wouldn’t pose a problem. But you were happy that you could stay with the organization after you had become so sure this would be where you stayed for the foreseeable future should you and Matt have had your baby to raise.

Checking the time you had a little over an hour left in your work day, figuring you’d use the time to go get some footage of the recent renovations of the locker room to start making a few posts for the socials.

As you exited the elevator your phone was buzzing in your pocket, an image of Rempe brightly filling the screen. A smirk found its way across your lips at the sight of the photo. It was after his debut stadium series game, his eye black slightly smeared as he flashed a goofy smile at the camera. You’d never forget the excitement surrounding that day, but more importantly meeting Matthew.

“Hello Matthew Rempe, how can I help you?”

He chuckled at your sing-song tone as he greeted you. “I am actually getting in the car, just leaving training. But, I realized I need some stuff from the apartment, well your apartment. Can I swing by?”

Heading into the Rangers locker room you pulled your work phone from your pocket, snagging some photos and a few videos to ensure you had plenty of content to use in editing.

“Um, yeah sure. I’m finishing up here at MSG within the hour, then I’ll be heading home. I would say I can be there in like an hour or so? If that works for you?”

“Yeah, I’ll probably hit traffic on my way so that would be fine. I’ll see you soon!”

“Sounds good, see you in a bit.”

-

Dropping your bag on the island you headed down the hall to throw on some comfy clothes, which ended up being some shorts and a Rangers t-shirt that Matthew had left behind. You figured this wasn’t an item he was in need of so he wouldn’t mind you wearing it.

Before you could even get fully settled in from work there was a knock at your door.

“Matthew Rempe, what in the world is this?”

You eyed the boy as he carried in a box of food, setting it on the island as he wrapped you in a quick hug.

“Well, I knew you probably hadn’t eaten dinner yet. And it could be like old times, when we’d get our favorite takeout place for dinner.”

You smiled at the gesture, thinking back to how Matt’s diet surely took a turn throughout your pregnancy once the craving for Chinese food kicked in. Weekly Matt found himself bringing home whatever dish it was you craved, but he never once complained. Well, that is except for when you ended up with a better fortune in your cookie than he did.

“You really didn’t have to do this, I could’ve just made some leftovers or something.”

He shot you a playful smile as he held up the container of steamed dumplings.

“Really? You’d pass on dumplings for leftovers?”

You licked your lips as you stole the container from his hand, moving around to the other side of the island as you pulled out some plates and silverware. Passing some to Matt so he could serve up his food before the two of you found your familiar spots on the floor at your coffee table.

“So, how are you doing? Everything good?”

Nodding your head you reached for a napkin, wiping your mouth before you answered him.

“Yeah, starting to feel like my normal self again. It was a little rocky there for a bit. But, I’m starting to feel good. Able to make it through the workday without crying, which is a big plus. How about you?”

He also nodded, adjusting how he sat on the floor as he rested back on his hands.

“Yeah, same here. I mean, I still have my moments where I do the why me sort of spiel. But I would say I’ve gotten past a lot of the frustration and anger I felt for a while. And training has been freaking amazing, I’m so excited for camp. I’ve been working so hard, the boys are really impressed.”

The smile on his face as he told you about his offseason training schedule warmed your heart. A smile formed on your lips as you saw how excited he was, talking about some of the different workouts he’s pushed himself through. Matt was like a kid in a candy story as he talked about the upcoming season. He’d already come such a long way from the rookie you met at the stadium series.

“I’m really proud of you Matt, and I can tell you’ve been working hard. I can see it for sure!”

“Oh, so you were checking me out eh? The biceps are looking pretty good if I do say so myself.”

He shot you a wink as he flexed his bicep for you, making you roll your eyes playfully as you reached over to steal a bite of his sesame chicken.

“Seriously? Some things just never change I guess.”

He slightly chucked as you shrugged your shoulders. Stealing Matt’s food was always something you’d do after telling him you didn’t like his order. Which would always lead to a silly argument once you’d stolen almost half of his chicken from his plate. Leaving him with mostly rice and veggies, which were obviously not the reason for him ordering the dish. But he never complained, always happy as long as you were.

That was something you’d always appreciated about Matt. He was selfless, always willing to sacrifice anything for you, to put himself in difficult positions for you. But you always felt like you couldn’t give him the same, your heart being pulled in the opposite direction for a guy who clearly had moved on from you like it was nothing.

You hated that you’d hurt Matt, of course losing your baby wasn’t anything you’d ever done intentionally. But to know he still felt as though it was never him in your heart, that you were solely with him for your daughter and not because you liked him enough on his own, it hurt. Because maybe you were both wrong, maybe somehow things could have worked. Had your relationship not began the way it did, if you had simply walked away once you knew Mat had cheated. Maybe you two could've had a happy ending, rather than him moving out with you both left to pick up the pieces separately.

“Y/n!”

Snapping from your thoughts you looked up at Matt, his hand holding out two fortune cookies.

“You pick first, remember?”

It was always tradition for you to pick your cookie first, Matt’s rules. He said that your intuition was better than his, and most of the time your fortunes did suit each of you perfectly.

Taking the cookie on the right you playfully smiled, the two of you ripping open the packages as you each cracked open the cookies. Pulling out the small piece of paper, you read your fortune to yourself, biting your lip as you looked at Matt, seeing him already looking back at you in anticipation. He could see the tears welling in your eyes, immediately moving to your side to comfort you. His arms holding you tight as you cried, trying to pull yourself together as this wasn’t supposed to be a night for the two of you to be sad.

“What did it say?”

You took a deep breath as you sat up, wiping your tears as you read the message out loud.

“If you want the rainbow, you have to tolerate the rain.”

You softly chuckled, now realizing it seemed silly to cry over such a cliche message. But as you looked up at Matt he was fighting his own tears, sniffling as he tried to pull himself together.

“I think that was exactly what you needed to hear right now. Like I’ve always said, your intuition is a hell of a lot better than mine.”

He gave you a smile as he stood up, collecting the dishes and taking them into the sink as he began to clean them off. You then tossed the throw pillows back onto your couch before joining him. Taking a seat on the counter as you watched him dry the dishes before placing them back in the cabinet.

“Well what about you?”

He tossed the dish towel over his shoulder as he turned to look at you, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter.

“What about me?”

“Your fortune!”

“Ohhh, let’s see, where did I put it?”

Typical Matt. He’d always put his fortune on the table, or in his pocket, the most random places thinking he’d lost it only to find it twenty minutes later.

“Here it is!”

Stuck to the bottom of his sock, that was a new one.

He playfully cleared his throat as he read from the tiny paper.

“A lifetime of happiness is in front of you.”

His eyes flashed up to meet yours, the words ringing in your ears and making your heart skip a beat. Though surely Matt didn’t see it that way, probably interpreting the fortune to be an overall meaning of the future, not literally right in front of him.

He simply shrugged as he placed the dish towel back onto the counter, “guess I’m gonna have to wait for happiness I guess. Unless, right in front of me.”

Looking down he stared at the sink, then flashed his eyes to you.

“This, washing dishes. It’s my future. Is this a sign that camp isn’t gonna go well for me?”

You rolled your eyes, practically falling off the counter at his god awful joke. Searching the apartment for your phone as he continued on, trying his best to make you laugh, which you always appreciated.

Looking at the screen you saw a multitude of text messages, all from none other than Mat. You’d immediately set your phone down, rejoining Matthew in the kitchen as you had no desire to talk to Barzal. It had been a month since you saw him, and you were not in the business of being friends only when it was convenient for him.

“Well, this has really been great, for the both of us I think. But, I gotta grab my stuff and head out. I’ve got an early training session tomorrow.”

Playfully you frowned at him as he headed to your previously shared bedroom, pulling a few things from the closet as he tossed them into a duffle bag he’d brought. Then he moved to the bathroom, and finally ended up in the living room grabbing a few books from the shelf.

“If you ever wanted to come over, not just when you need to grab some of your stuff, you can do that too you know?”

Matt softly smiled at you, appreciating the fact that you were open to still hanging out with him despite everything that happened. He felt awful for the way he left things, for accusing you of not necessarily having feelings for him or ever seeing yourself with him. It was pretty harsh when he thought back on it. And he wished things could’ve played out differently. But to even get an open invite from you to spend time together after the things he’d said, he felt that was a step in the right direction.

“I know that now, and I will definitely keep that in mind.”

He wrapped you in a hug before heading out the door, out of habit kissing your head before awkwardly apologizing. To which you’d told him you didn’t mind, it still felt so normal for him to do so. He promised to text you once he got home, but told you not to wait up as he might hit traffic on his drive and you need your rest for work in the morning. He truly did know you way too well.

Heading back into the living room you heard your phone buzzing on the coffee table. A photo of you and Mat Barzal filling the screen, one you’d apparently never changed after your breakup.

“Hello?”

“Hey, um, is everything okay?”

You scoffed at his somewhat annoyed tone as you took a seat on the couch, pulling a throw blanket over your legs as you spat back at him.

“Like you care? It’s been a month since I saw you and this is the first I’ve heard from you. What about the five other days I’ve tried reaching out? You didn’t care until now?”

He sighed on his end of the call, realizing he’d come off wrong, trying to apologize and start over as he explained himself.

“Well, you’re right. I should’ve responded sooner. But, Ava was in town, I couldn’t have her seeing me talking to you. But, I mean I texted you back now. You’re the one ignoring me now.”

He playfully chuckled, though you were not amused, Mat always thinking he could use charm to move past any wrongdoing.

“First of all, what good does texting me now do if I reached out weeks ago? Maybe I needed you then. And second of all, I wasn’t ignoring you. I was busy. Matt came over to grab some of his things and he brought dinner.”

Mat’s line of the phone went silent, eventually you’d heard him take a deep breath before he spoke.

“So, the guy packs up his things and walks out on you, but suddenly you’re hanging out and having dinner together? Are you two broken up or not?”

His tone was annoyed and angry, though you weren’t sure why considering he was happily engaged, which you didn’t think you needed to remind him of but clearly he’d forgotten.

“Last time I checked, you’re happy with Ava. So why do you care so much? I’m not allowed to have dinner with him? He and I were literally going to have a child, you think that everything between him and I just goes away overnight because I’m no longer pregnant?”

You found yourself laughing, the conversation seeming silly to you. There was no need for you to explain yourself to him, but part of you felt like you owed him something. After all, you did the same thing right back to him that he’d done to you.

“There was never anything between you two! Stop trying to pretend like there was. I get it okay, I fucked up. I should have never cheated on you. Do I think it gave you the right to do the same to me, no. But I could see how I pushed you into the arms of someone else. What I won’t let you do, is try to tell me that even for a second there was something between you and him. He got you pregnant after one night, and you two had to be together for your baby. That’s not love, that’s nothing close to what we had. So don’t you dare try to say it’s anything similar.”

You tried not to take his words personally, knowing they were coming from a place of hurt as he’d clearly not gotten over everything that happened. Rather just tried to mask it all by jumping into an engagement he clearly wasn’t satisfied with. But you weren’t going to just accept the things he said, letting him act as if there were never any feelings felt between you and Matthew.

“Mat, you have never once been in the same room as us. You’ve not been around Matt and I, you don’t know the feelings that are there. You don’t know how we feel towards one another, so you can’t tell me how I feel or how I don’t.”

“How you feel? So what, you still supposedly like this guy? After he packed his shit and walked out on you during one of the hardest moments of your life, you still have fucking feelings for someone like that? You’d want to be with the guy after all this?”

“Well I stayed with you during your shitty moments didn’t I?”

The comment was harsh, but you didn’t care. Mat always thought he could do no wrong, that the way he spoke was justified, and you were sick of him trying to make you feel bad, regardless if you’d hurt him or not.

“Why do you fucking care so much Mat? Must I remind you, you’re engaged! You chose her! So why could you possibly care so much if I still have feelings for Matt or would consider trying to do things the right way with him?”

The line went silent, and it felt as if minutes had passed before Mat finally confessed to you why’d he become so frustrated with you admitting you might truly have feelings for Rempe after all.

“Because I called off my engagement.”

[inkedtae]

taecember 2024

↳ special thanks to jen ( @itaeewon ) for making this year's wonderful banner 🤍

Welcome to Taecember!

The year might be coming to an end, but my love for Kim Taehyung is eternal.

I’ve been absent for most of this year and all of last, trying to find myself again. I didn’t feel like I was good enough as a writer and needed time to work through personal challenges. But throughout it all, I found myself craving Taehyung.

With him in the military, it’s been hard to keep him close, even in my thoughts—especially when there’s so little news or updates about him. His online presence, both as part of BTS and individually, was always so familiar and charismatic. Hearing him sing or watching his unhinged, playful moments with his members felt like being cocooned in a thick woollen blanket on a snowy winter night in front of a crackling fire—the pinnacle of warmth and comfort. Since the moment he left, I’ve been craving that sense of solace, finding it only in fleeting moments when he posts or when a new photo surfaces.

No words can truly describe how much I’ve missed him. From his deep voice to his mischievous smile and those kind, expressive eyes that somehow hold so much power—it’s been impossible to shake this yearning. I miss his competitive streak over something as small as a gift card and the passion in his voice when he speaks about his members or ARMY.

I’ve felt the BTS-shaped void in their absence—not just in the industry but in the hearts of ARMY too. Reconnecting with other BTS writers was hard, and I often felt isolated. But with the release of pre-recorded videos and occasional updates, I’ve slowly started to find my confidence again.

So, while he continues his mandatory military service, I want to dedicate this space to celebrating our man, our husband: Mr. Kim Taehyung!

As per Taecember ritual, my blog will be all about Taehyung. From weekly fics to photos, posts, and everything in between, it’s going to be a month-long celebration of him. Weekly chapters of Rotten Angelcake will go live every Monday, and I’ll be sharing a special fic on his birthday as well. If you’d like to join in beyond just reading, feel free to send any Taehyung-related content my way! I’ll also be following the tag #taecember 2024 for all your posts. Please join me in celebrating, the one and only, Kim Taehyung!

Happy Taecember!

❥ xii. rotten angelcake ⟶ december 2nd ↳ ongoing series, sugar daddy au, s2l

❥ xiii. rotten angelcake ⟶ december 11th ↳ ongoing series, sugar daddy au, s2l

❥ xiv. rotten angelcake ⟶ december 16th ↳ ongoing series, sugar daddy au, s2l

❥ marked by krampus ⟶ december 31st ↳ dark themes, twisted christmas au, monster kink

updated : december 31st

[joelalorian]

Under False Pretenses - Chapter 1

Stepdad!Dave York x f!reader | wc: 1700 | masterlist

Summary: A challenging mission, whirlwind marriage, and unexpected yet captivating stepdaughter push Dave York to the brink as secrets, feelings, and loyalties collide.

Warnings: Overall rating will be Explicit, 18+ mdni. Stepdad trope. Unspecified age gap but I imagine a lil' baby one of about 5 to 8 years. This chapter is a wee lil mellow one and sets the scene, but future ones will include soft, yet sexy and intense Dave; several twists - basically, it will have it all: action, angst, deception, fluff, humor, a puppy(!), and SMUT! No use of y/n. Dave will give reader a nickname based on his perception of her.

AN: I got too excited and decided to post the first chapter. Posting schedule will be somewhere are weekly, give or take a few days. Hope you enjoy and let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

Chapter 1:

“Sure, honey. You can come stay for a while,” your mom assured you. She sounded excited even though it wasn’t a call you wanted to make, not at this point in your life, but what other options did you have? “You can see the house and meet your new stepdad!”

Dead air.

The soft glow of you bedside lamp cast long shadows on the room, making the clutter of half-packed boxes look like ominous towers. Your knuckles whitened as you gripped the phone tighter, trying to process her words.

“My new WHAT?” your voice rose toward the end in utter confusion. You didn’t even know your mom was dating anyone, let alone someone serious enough to fucking marry!

“Oh, honey, his name is Dave and you’re just gonna love him,” she replied with a lovesick simper.

You’d never heard her voice do that. She must be really into the guy.

Enough to marry him without even inviting you to the god damn wedding?

She’s still chatting away, explaining how they met – at work – and how it was such a whirlwind romance that they got carried away on a work trip to Vegas and decided to just tie the knot without telling anyone.

Okay. That, actually, didn’t surprise you. Your mom was super smart but could be a total a flake sometimes, leaving you to wonder who the adult was on more than one occasion while growing up. She had you really young and never quite matured.

“That’s great, Mom. I can’t wait to meet him,” you finally replied after twenty minutes of listening to her gush over this Dave guy. “But I’m not calling him Dad.”

She laughed. “Of course not, honey. He’s too young to really be your dad anyway.”

That piqued your interest.

“Oh, oh, oh, you robbin’ the cradle, mama?” you teased. “You’re really living your cougar era, huh?”

“Stop it, you,” she giggled in return. “So, when do you think you’ll get here?”

Conversation went back and forth a little longer as your mom gave you the new address – for fuck’s sake, they moved clear across the state from where you grew up, to a very swanky area at the shore, you noted – and you made a rough itinerary. In reality, you would have loved to just drop everything and get the fuck out of dodge right that minute, but logistics and all that.

“Ok, honey. Be careful and I’ll see you next week. Call if you need anything.” Before she ended the call, your mom added, “I’ll text you Dave’s number as well, so you have it in case of emergencies.

“Sounds good, mama. Love you.”

“Love you more, honey.”

You went back to packing up the remnants of your life, readying yourself for the cross-country journey ahead.

You did not have ‘moving back home at almost 30’ on your bingo card this year, but there you were, pulling into the half-moon driveway of a large colonial home in an upscale neighborhood, one much nicer than where your mom used to live. The house loomed under the late morning sun, its pristine white siding and black shutters stark against the cloudless blue sky. Perfectly trimmed hedges flanked the curved driveway, and somewhere nearby, the faint crash of waves carried on the salty breeze. This Dave guy had a lot of money, it appeared. Parking your little sedan to the far side in front of the 3-car garage, you turned the car off and lingered in the driver’s seat, fingers drumming nervously on the steering wheel.

Normally, you didn’t mind change, but… man, the past month threw some whammies at you. You lost a boyfriend, job, and your loyal goldfish in quick succession. Each loss hit worse than the last. And now, your safe space, the place you needed to return to so you could lick your wounds… also changed. Big time.

The soft tap of a manicured nail on the window startled you, head snapping to the side to see your mom standing in the driveway beaming at you. She bounced on her feet, anxiously waiting for you to get out of the car.

“Honey! It’s so good to see you!” You barely had time to fully stand up before she pulled you into a bone crushing hug. That was another thing about your mom – she was strong. She had lithe muscles packed into her small figure from being a total gym addict.

Too bad that addiction wasn’t hereditary. You hated the gym.

“Hi mama! Marriage looks good on you!” you praised her once you stepped back and took in her glowing, sun-kissed skin, vibrant blonde locks, and the large rock on her hand.

“You look good, too, honey. You losing weight?”

And of course, she honed right in on that. You weren’t even in front of her for five minutes, and she brought up your weight. Story of your life. Your body shape the exact opposite of your, mother’s, she hadn’t let up on nagging you about your weight since you were twelve years old. You were always a bit… thick in places.

“Uh, maybe, I dunno. Come on, show me your new digs.” You quickly changed the subject.

Your mom gives you the grand tour, proudly showing off all the lovely features of the house, focusing heavily on the ones the home you grew up in didn’t have like the huge kitchen, fireplace, pool, and enormous master suite, though she led you away before you could fully explore all that the suite offered. The two other bedrooms were already decorated for little girls, and you quirked a curious eyebrow at your mom.

“Didn’t I mention that Dave has two young daughters?”

No. No, she definitely did not mention that. You rolled your eyes, understanding now why your mom was so eager for you to come home. She wanted a built-in caretaker. You mentally counted down, knowing exactly what she was about to say in three, two, one…

“Actually, now that you’ll be living here, it would be great if you could look after the girls when we have to travel for work or want to go out, help with the school runs during the week.”

It wasn’t a question, you noted. Not that you expected her to ask first or even mention that being a nanny would be part of the deal. Nothing with your mom ever came without a cost. You learned that lesson long ago.

You loved your mom, you really did. Sometimes, she just didn’t make it easy to do so.

“Right. About that… where am I supposed to be staying if all the bedrooms are taken?”

She led you down the stairs to a door off the family room, where another stairway awaited you. “You’re locking me away in the basement?” you joked. “Please tell me it’s at least finished.”

“Just wait until you see it, honey,” your mom promised, and you reluctantly followed her down the steps.

When the lights flicked on, the sight took your breath away. It was like an entire apartment down there. It even had its own private entrance leading to the garage allowing you to come and go as you pleased. “Wow,” you breathed.

“Told ya.” She flashed you a twitchy wink. “You’ll have this whole space to yourself… well, except for that room over there.” She pointed to a closed door equipped with a sturdy lock.

“What’s in there?” you questioned, already curious about the reasoning for such a lock on the door.

“That’s Dave’s office. It’s off limits to everyone but him, so don’t go snooping. Got it?” She pointed a finger at you like you were an errant child, and you raised your hands in surrender.

“Heard you loud and clear, mama. I have no interest in whatever creepy ass skeletons Dave is keeping in his locked office.” Total lie, of course, but your mom didn’t need to know that.

“Good. Get settled in and help yourself to whatever you need. I must head to the office for a bit. Dave should be home at some point, he just had a meeting in town. I’ll pick up the girls from school on my way home if you want to take care of dinner.”

And there it was. You knew there’d be a bigger price to pay for this arrangement, more than occasionally taking care of your new stepsisters. Without a job or any other responsibilities, your mom was going to treat you like free labor. You saw that coming.

You followed your mom upstairs and through the front door as she headed to her car in the garage, and you went for yours. Might as well get unpacked, not like you brought much anyway. It was early still, and you could make a trip to the store for anything you needed before having to worry about dinner.

A few hours later, you stepped back to admire your new living space with a sense of pride. You did everything you could to make it your own, within reason.

With the basement suite basically being a blank slate, you chose a variety of decorative pillows, wall hangings, and chotchkes to give it your own stylistic flair. The furnishings unused and rather plain, you wanted to spice them up with splashes of color. You did everything short of paint the damn walls – and you would have done that too if given the option.

Grateful for a firm mattress with a plush pillowtop, you sprang for the softest satiny sheets you could find in a pale green hue and paired it with a patterned comforter with clean lines. A couple of coastal-themed lamps on the nightstands rounded out the small bedroom.

The bathroom was already decorated with a shower curtain and accessories in soft gray hues, and you wondered if that was Dave’s touch or your mother’s. Probably Dave. Your mom never veered toward subtle furnishings, much preferring patterns and styles that you found garish.

Glancing around at the neat space one last time, you headed upstairs to the kitchen to begin dinner preparations. You wanted to make something special for the first time meeting your stepdad and his daughters.

tbc

Chapter Two

tag list: @imdrinkingpedro @lillaydee @ppascalrain @yorksgirl @missladym1981 @baronessvonglitter @slimybeth69

[rayllum-weekly]

Rayllum Weekly Round Up:

Week 36

TDP News:

Meta:

Rayla's Super Selective Hearing, or What is Callum Actually Afraid of? by @raayllum

Fanart:

Rayllum wing hug by @crazy4httydxartist

High Mage Callum by @kisa-seira

Because she’s Rayla by @taylaedraws

Rayllum baby art for @ttm-rayllum-baby-au by @awkwardsauce

Ryn by @its-leethee (from Love You Again by @thosefiveadoraburrs and @raayllum)

Rayla and Callum by @virenkinnie

Rayla and Callum by @tategaminu

Star Rayla by @echonebula1

Dragon Prince couples (featuring Rayllum) by @boos-arts

Modern AU Rayllum by @cosmicpoutine

Stargazing Rayllum by @currymunches

New Fanfic:

when you aim at the devil, make sure you don’t miss (NSFW) by @a-very-sparkly-nerd

Left behind by @ttm-rayllum-baby-au

Don't Leave Me 'Til My Sorry Life Has Ceased by @a-very-sparkly-nerd

Tears and Rain by @hiccupshypotheticalleftsock

get your ass in gear, make this whole town disappear (NSFW) by @a-very-sparkly-nerd

(Un)Necessary Attention by @amys-books27

Wings (NSFW) by @blutopaz15

Stargazing by @photoniccyclone

you missed my heart @actually-sobbingteacup

Up-Dated Fanfic:

I'll Give You My Life (From Now Till Forever) - Chapter 3 by @thatartiststudios

In Absentia - Chapter 3 by @zuppizup

Miraculum Vitae- Chapter 3 by @moondustgleam

A Dark Alternative - Chapter 8 by @zuppizup

It Always Was, It Was Always Her - Chapter 2 by @thatartiststudios

Piece of your heart - Chapter 3 by @ttm-rayllum-baby-au

Other Content:

Rayllum phone wallpaper by @sorinethemastermind

Rayllum phone screen by @sorinethemastermind

Matching Rayllum phone screens by @sorinethemastermind

Already Over by @amys-books27

- If I missed your post, please DM me and I’ll be sure to include it.