#and in less than a week these feelings will be back to half strength again

[chocolatepot]

The sure sign that my period is coming these days is when I start getting really maudlin about the bit in fics where Stede talks about or internally reflects on how he thought he was completely unwantable and that's why he never picked up on Ed's feelings ...

[heesimp]

sunghoon removing the condom mid sex because 1) he honestly couldn't care less 2) he genuinely believes he has rights to do so simply bc he wants to 🤷‍♀️ 3) you're too dumb on his dick to even notice that.. not until he cums inside ofc but it's not like you can do anything against his strength and big frame even if you wanted to

condom removal is so hot and I would do a lot for sunghoon to cum inside of me without protection 😩 make me creamy goddamn

note: this work contains themes of noncon and should not be replicated, and if this happens outside of the realm of fiction then it is considered sexual assault.

-

Sunghoon knows he loves to have sex but he thinks you might like it even more than he does.

Neither of you are committed to one another but somehow, you find yourself in bed with him twice a week and don’t have an issue if he shows up your place unannounced. Sunghoon isn’t pushy and understands if you’re not available when he wants you to be. The respect is probably the reason why you agreed to start hooking up with him regularly on the first place.

And like, your birth control is always there to save you but you like using condoms for that extra layer of safety. Sunghoon always brought condoms with him whenever the two of you would meet up and the one time he didn’t have any was the first time he experiences having sex with you without that protective rubber.

He can’t get enough and dreams of your wet pussy against his bare cock. It makes Sunghoon hard every single time he thinks about seeing how tight you gripped him when he didn’t use condoms. He doesn’t ever want to go back.

Sunghoon has you on your hands and knees with your cheek pressed into the mattress. You’re almost sure you might be drooling and your hair fans across your face as he pounds into you with one knee on the bed. His other foot holds him up for stability as he fucks you like that.

“Tightest pussy in the world,” he moans loudly, too lost in the pleasure of seeing his cock drilling in and out of you, even with the protective sheen preventing him from truly feeling you.

You’re too gone to hear what he’s saying but his dick feels so big and good inside of you. You moan wildly and feel your own voice vibrate in your chest the more Sunghoon pushes and pulls against you.

“You like my cock?”

“I love it,” you choke out.

“Yeah, baby? Like it when my big dick fucks this tight hole?”

“Fuck me harder!”

Sunghoon’s crouches on the bed, using your body for balance ad both of his feet plant onto the mattress. He’s got a grip on your waist and squeezes when he feels you clenching around him. The new angle feels divine because his heavy, warm balls rest right against your pussy. He gives an experimental swing and you curse loudly when his balls smack against your clit.

“Oh, you like that?” Sunghoon pushes into you again. “You look so sexy beneath me. Makes me want to put babies in you.”

“N-No,” you stutter, trying to shake your head.

Sunghoon begins to push into you deeper. “No? You don’t want my cum? You don’t want it to take? But your pussy feels so good, baby.” His words make you moan and clench around him again.

“F-Fuck, Sunghoon!”

The echoing sounds of his balls slapping against your pussy makes Sunghoon’s eyes roll to the back of his head. He looks down to see the shape of your naked body and twitches right inside of you, which makes you squirm beneath him and the arch of your back crumbles in erotic pleasure.

Your pussy squeezes him a little too hard until you push him out but Sunghoon doesn’t mind. He grins at your wet hole and leans back to pull your bottom half into an arch again by pushing your legs together. You feel his tongue rub itself all over your folds and grip the bedsheets below you the more his wet muscle slides over your sensitive areas. Sunghoon flicks your clit a few times and drags it over the surface, making you moan right into his pillows.

He pulls away to give your pussy a smack. “Such a dirty girl, huh? Your pussy looks so cute when I’m using it.”

Sunghoon licks up another stripe before pulling himself upright. You don’t see him but you feel the bed moving underneath you as Sunghoon pulls your legs together again until your thighs are pressed against one another. He cages you in with his knees and you hear him jerking off with one hand while the other grips your ass and pulls each cheek apart to reveal your tight pussy.

“Your ass is phenomenal,” he complements as he twists his wrists while you close your eyes and bite your lip.

Sunghoon stays like that for a minute, admiring your asscheeks as you gush at the sound of his cock against the condom. You want nothing more than for him to stick his cock back in and start to think about the moments just prior when his balls slapped your pussy lips and sent you straight to heaven.

Your thoughts are cut off when you hear the sound of rubber smacking. Your heartbeat picks up at the familiar sound and start to turn around when Sunghoon pushes his tip back and forth over your folds, confirming your suspicions. The condom is gone.

“Suchhhh a nice pussy,” he groans as the wetness splashes onto his bare dick. “Makes me so horny.”

Your mouth hangs open the more Sunghoon pushes his cock inside of you, burying himself inch by inch until he’s so deep that you feel his balls just underneath your ass. He puts both of his palms beside you and pulls himself away from your body just to push back in.

You panic underneath him but moan simultaneously. Your heartbeat races at the sensation of his bare dick as Sunghoon twists his hips to angle himself deeper than he was before while your mouth hangs open, a string of moans pouring from the back of your throat.

“Your body’s gonna make me cum,” Sunghoon grunts. You close your eyes shut and clench around him in bursts when he speaks, making him moan deeply into the open air. He reaches over to his side and places the used condom on your left asscheek as he uses his hands to spread you apart, grunting at the sight of him invading your hole.

Sunghoon doesn’t give you any time to object or react and it feels too good to say something now. He stutters as his hips become faster and rougher before he’s gripping your asscheeks and digging his fingernails into your meaty flesh, his big cock lodged so deep into your pussy that you swear you’re in another dimension. He cums with his eyes focus on your hole and moans the second he sees it bubble out of you.

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Off Day Or Day Off

Summary: Reader has a bad day due to a chronic illness they struggle with (POTS). Luckily Lizzie and Scarlett look after her.

Tw: headache, mild pots, exhaustion / fatigue, pain medicine, mentions of passing out

Words: 2129

A/n sorry for such a long absence I got diagnosed with POTS so I have been in and out of the hospital for appointments for the past few weeks. So, this fic is kinda just me projecting. Also, POTS stands for Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (for those who don’t know). Let me know if you want a part 2.

You knew today was going to be hard when you opened your eyes to see your alarm had already been going off for a good half hour.

Whilst not something that was unusual for you, it did pose some insight into how the rest of the day may go. Taking a deep breath, you gathered the strength to sit up, still feeling exhausted to your bones and wanting nothing more than to lay back down and keep sleeping.

Reaching out to smack the alarm in order to finally get it to shut up, it took a few tries to finally hit the button.

You were tired despite having slept over the recommended eight hours. You were tired when you woke up and you had no doubt you would be tired when you went to sleep.

Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed you braced yourself to stand up. Once on your feet you stayed upright for a good half a second before sitting back down hard.

Yep, today was an off day.

Trying again you managed to stick the landing this time, but still had to pause to wait for the patches in your vision to clear up first before doing anything.

You were vaguely aware of a dull ache in your temples and a general feeling of malaise and fatigue across your whole body.

You leant against the wall of your bedroom while pulling on some fresh pant and swapping out your pyjama shirt for a clean and presentable top.

You fought to stay upright while hopping around to stick the socks over your cold feet.

Throwing your notebook and pencil case into your backpack before pulling your laptop off the charge you added it to your bag and slung it over your shoulder, not bothering to do up the zip just yet.

Scanning the room your eyes caught on the small medical pouch were you had left it the day before. Groaning you circled back to grab it and triple check it was stocked with extra electrolyte packets before tossing it into your already full bag.

Your footsteps were heavy on the stairs as you plodded down to the kitchen, the voices of your little sister and mother only seeming to aggravate your growing headache.

You gripped the railing as you descended the stairs just in case your fatigue flared anymore than it already had.

As you shuffled into the kitchen you distantly listened to your mum wish you a good morning. Feeling tired and slightly annoyed at the whole situation you mumbled something incoherent back to her.

Scarlett had been your mother for almost ten years now after the adoption had gone through. You had met on the set for one of her earlier marvel films and due to your less-than-ideal situation and close bond with the actress she had adopted you.

It hadn’t been until a few months into living with her that she begun to take notice of your fatigue and various other issues. She had been with you every step of the process to get diagnosed and despite your fears she had stayed by your side.

You had been managing your tachycardia for a long time now and the symptoms of POTS weren’t as intense as they once were. However, from time to time you still had flare up which caused you a lot of heart ache and suffering.

As you slid into your place at the kitchen table Scarlett set down a plate of bacon and toast for you whilst she continued listening to the constant chatter stemming from your younger sister.

Scarlett nodded along with Rose’s story as she observed you closely. She had noted something was off almost straight away and knew you were doing your best to keep up a front.

It was Scarlett’s day off and as such she was tasked with taking Rose to school as Colin had headed into work early for a meeting with the writers.

You weren’t too interested in the food your mother had given you. Despite loving bacon and usually chomping it down with gusto you felt gross and tired.

Scarlett took note of your slow pace and droopy eyes as she took roses dishes back to the sink and loaded them into the dishwasher.

Scarlett had been trying to help you get better at advocating for yourself by simply making you ask for her help. She hoped it would help you speak up for yourself more now that you had more recognised needs. However, she also knew when to step in and simply help if you didn’t ask first.

She frowned at the sight of your backpack slung over the back of the chair knowing full well she didn’t want you going to uni if you were unwell.

As you continued to poke at your food with a fork and a bored expression that barely masked the exhaustion Scarlett sent rose to get dressed.

“Alright munchkin, what’s going on?” Scarlett said sitting down next to you.

“‘M fine mum. Just tired, I didn’t sleep well.” You grumbled still mining away at the edge of the slightly burnt toast with your fork.

Scarlett frowned as she knew you had been asleep before ten after she had poked her head in at around nine fifty to see if you were up.

“In that case maybe you should stay home today and get some rest sweetheart.” Scarlett said softly.

“No. No, I’m ok.” You said shaking your head which wasn’t a great idea as the patches reappeared in your vision.

“Alright.” Scarlett said admitting defeat for now. “I have to take rose to school; do you need a lift to uni?” She asked and you nodded pushing away the full plate of food. “Ok then come get your shoes on.”

You nodded again and stood. Just as she had expected Scarlett watched as you swayed on your feet slightly, blinking rapidly to try and clear your vision as your hand blindly reached for the table to provide the support you needed dot stay upright.

“Alright. No.” Scarlett said. “Definitely not. You’re staying here sweet girl.”

“But i’m-“ you begun only to be cut off.

“If the next words out of your mouth are “I’m fine.” I’ll make you take the whole week off.” Scarlett said and your lips snapped shut. “Go make yourself comfortable on the couch, I’ll have lizzie come stay with you while I’m out. She has the day off too and before you start, I’m sure she would like to spend the time with you.” Scarlett said before you could protest hindering the younger actresses schedule with your change of plans.

Before you could protest Scarlett gave you a look that kept the words in your throat from leaving.

“You’re not a problem y/n. Lizzie loves to spend time with you, and it makes her feel better to be able to help you out. Plus, I don’t want to leave you here alone in case you need something or pass out.” She said sternly but kindly.

“But I haven’t passed out before.” You grumbled.

“There’s a first time for everything.” Scarlett said. “Now go get comfy while I call Lizzie.” She said pressing a kiss to your head and giving you a light shove in the direction of the living room.

As you settled into a small nest on the couch you begun scrolling through Disney plus before settling on something to watch. You heard Scarlett talking on the phone in the kitchen before she appeared and handed you a water bottle which no doubt was filled with electrolytes. She spoke to Lizzie for a bit longer before coming back once the call was done.

“Drink.” She instructed, nodding to the bottle in your lap. “Lizzie will be over soon. I have to take rose in and then we can have a movie day and see if Lizzie wants to join us.”

“Ok.” You mumbled feeling bad for ruining everyone’s plans.

“None of that. We love you and we would rather spend the day making you feel better than knowing you’re not ok and doing what we planned.” Scarlett said as she picked up roses backpack and grabbed her trainers from the doorway.

Rose came and hugged you goodbye before continuing her endless chatter about something or other as she and Scarlett disappeared out the doorway. Scarlett blowing you a kiss as she left.

Snuggling down into the blankets you felt your eyelids droop as the show played on in the background.

What couldn’t have been more than five minutes later the doorbell rang before the door opened. You knew Lizzie had a a key, but she always rung the doorbell before she let herself in just to let you know it was her.

You heard the door shut and the sound of her taking off her shoes before she came upstairs.

“Y/n?” She called out as she walked down the hallway.

“In here.” You said barely shouting.

A moment later Lizzie entered the room, her face looking a little sad at the sight of you all bundled up and sleepy, your arms wrapped around your water bottle as your eyes drifted shut.

“Hiii.” You mumbled quietly.

“Hi sweet girl. Oh, look at you, it’s not a good day, is it?” She asked as she took the seat beside you on the couch.

“No.” You huffed as you shuffled over into her side.

Lizzie’s hands went straight to your hair as she brushed her fingers through it. She guided your head to her lap and gently began braining locks of your hair. The feeling of her fingers on your scalp relaxed you as your eyes fluttered shut.

“Have some more to drink first baby, then you can have a nap, okay?” She said helping you sit up and sip some of the electrolyte drink before guiding you back to her lap as her hands took their place back in your hair.

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep again.

The next time you woke up Lizzie’s hand was still gently massaging your head which was helping with the now whopping headache you had. You shifted slightly prompting Lizzie to look down from the show she had put on and see you were awake.

“Hi sweetheart, how are we feeling love?” She asked softly.

“Headache, tired and lousy.” You mumbled turning your face into her stomach making her chuckle softly at your cuteness.

“That’s no good.” She said frowning now she registered your words. “Want me to get your mum to bring some Panadol and a snack?” She asked and you nodded into her stomach.

Lizzie gently reached down and placed her hands over your ears to shield you from the noise as she began calling out to Scarlett who you hadn’t noticed return.

“Scar car you bring y/n/n some Panadol and a snack!” She called and you faintly heard your mum’s response before Lizzie was prompting you to drink some more of the electrolyte drink in your water bottle.

“Sorry I know this wasn’t what you two wanted to do on ur day off” you said to both actresses when Scarlett came in with some cupcakes, she and rose had baked the day before and a strip of Panadol.

“Honey…” Lizzie said looking sad. “I’ll always be here when you need me.” She said softly.

“Yeah, I can’t get rid of you.” Scarlett joked making all three of you laugh.

When you winced at the noise Scarlett went straight to mum mode as she popped out two of the tablets and put them in your hand before nodding to the water bottle.

“Alright, what are we watching?” Scarlett asked situating herself on your other side and pulling your legs into her lap, so you were laid across the two of them.

“Whatever y/n/n wants.” Lizzie said chucking the remote to you.

“I’m thinking marvel.” You grinned making both women groan in protest.

You put on age of ultron and barely twenty minutes in Lizzie’s gentle head scratches had lulled you back into the arms of sleep.

POTS was hard to live with but with all the people in your life supporting you it was bearable.

Part 2

@barbarasstar @charlie56

[aninipanin1]

omg omg lavinho and adult manager reader where theyve previously met at a club/party outside of blue lock where lavinho tried to hit on one of reader's friends lol

IT'S YOU!

Notes: Ya'll are cooking with the ideas lmaoooo, (F/n) stands for friend name.

"C'mon, Y/n! You'll be back in that prison/asylum in like two days! Live a little and have fun!" (F/n) cheered, hands attached to her wrist as she dragged you inside the establishment she had been raving about to you, both in texts and conversations.

Garbed in a (f/c) sequined cocktail dress and a two-inch pair of heels, you can say you dressed up pretty well tonight. Although, you wish that you were on your bed instead under the flashing lights and banging music of the bar.

Your job in the Blue Lock facility was nothing less than stressful, and since everyone, including you, was given a 2 week break after Blue Lock's win against the U-20 National players, you wasted no time in spending the days just catching up on your naps and tv shows.

If you weren't doing normal household chores or watching on your phone, you were dozing off to sleep. But whatever you did in the past week and a half was inside the premises of your house only.

That is why you were here now. Dragged by your friend who insisted that there were other ways to destress than just sleeping like a sloth or watch anime.

"Ugh, a drink is the farthest thing in my mind right now, (F/n). I want to nap when I still have the chance to. You know how busy I get in the Blue Lock facility. I legit, sleep at like 4 AM only to wake up at 6 AM at times."

She sighed before patting your back and running her hand up and down your arm.

"I know. But, you need a bit of socialization. C'mon!"

(F/n) cheered, giving you a glass of whatever drink she ordered for the both of you as she chugged 3 glasses straight, which impressed you. She has always been quite outgoing and friendly, a little opposite to your quiet and almost shy nature. So, you always found yourself dragged by her in things you normally would be too shy to do.

And that included dancing in the middle of the damn dancefloor in which she was doing now, and even dragging you with her.

"Woah, woah, woah! Hey! You know I don't dance, especially not infront of-" you protested, but she only laughed and held your arms, dancing with you, her platform heels clacking against the tiled floor.

"Loosen up, girl! No one is watching you anyways, theyre all having too much of a good time to notice!"

And there she went again, moving her hips and arms to the music as you just smiled at her. Even if you didn't feel that comfortable with some of her shenanigans, you know she always means well. And besides, she makes the shameless in you jump out of the curtains at times.

You wished those moments came now, but the crowdedness and strong smell of alcohol from the many people made you quite restricted and stuck, so you just stood there, moving your feet a bit, but not dancing too hard. You stayed there mainly because you wanted to make sure that (F/n) was safe and won't get hurt or taken advantage of any ill-willed people in the crowded space.

Were you too protective of her at times? Yes, but you cared about (F/n), and wished that no peril will ever come her way, so you always make sure you were there in times where her immature and guillable nature strikes.

You both were on that dance floor for who knows how long. Songs came and went, and (F/n) was still jamming to whatever Western pop song was playing, and the crowd wasn't thinning either. In fact, it felt more cramped than before, and you were starting to feel a little sick due to how crowded it was.

The heavy smell of alcohol did not help either, as the assorment of the heavy drinks the people on the dancefloor drank mixed within the air. Not finding the strength to tolerate it anymore, you softly tapped your friend's shoulder.

She turned to you, cheeks a bit flushed now due to who knows how many drinks she had. But, you knew she wasn't a lightweight and only had a few drinks, meaning her cognitive is still probably in tact.

"I'm just going to sit in one of the lounges! I'm feeling a bit dizzy. Dance in where I can see you, I don't want us to be separated!"

It was kind of annoying that you had to shout over the music, but you pulled through and she nodded her head before returning her attention to the next song that popped up, especially since you know its a favourite of hers.

"Are you sure you'll be fine, alone? I can join you." She managed to ask before you leave.

"Yeah, I'll be okay. Continue having fun! I don't wanna ruin the night for you!" You gave her a reassuring smile that at first, she did not seem to buy, but after a few looks, she returned to dancing and jamming to the song again as you found yourself walking out of the crowded space into one of the lounges where you see a few people also hanging out on, drinking or busy on their phones.

Sitting on an empty spot with a not-too heavy drink in hand, you always made sure to peek through the dancing crowd to make sure (F/n) didn't wander off or get too out of hand (she can become a bit crazy when drunk), but a message from your mother caught your attention for a few minutes.

By the time you said your goodbye to your mother in the messaging app, you didn't see your friend anymore, which made you blink in a bit of a panic. Mainly because you were worried for her and also, a bit anxious about being alone in the said bar.

After all, you can definitely feel stares boring to your figure, a lot of them from men, of course, and you legit don't know how you will get out in a situation where one of them tries to approach and flirt with you.

Geez, you really need to learn how to reject people you don't want around you, especially guys in these situations.

Craining your neck up, you tried to find where the hell (F/n) went. After a few minutes of copying a giraffe, extending your neck and body posture higher to look, you found your eyes looking at the bar where she was.

She probably got tired from the dancing and ordered a drink to refresh, but she wasn't alone. She was talking to a guy who was quite tall, even if he was sitting down. He had tanned skin, a few tattos across his arms, his blonde hair in some type of mullet, and he looked to be the same age range as you and (F/n).

He seemed almost familiar. His face, his build, his many features...it felt like deja vu, really. You felt like you've seen him somewhere, somehow before. You tried to remind yourself where, but it just won't come up to mind. Like the answer was under a blanket, sillhouette shown to give a clue, yet what's under still a mystery and the only way to know is to look under the fabric.

But you just shrugged it off, chalking it up to be just some sort of resemblance to someone you saw before. By just the look in (F/n)'s eyes, you can tell that they seem to be hitting it off pretty well. (F/n) had that slanted, dreamy eyes as she listened to whatever the blonde was saying. And the man looked more than happy to talk to her. Well, hopefully it was genuine? Besides, he wouldn't approach her if he wasn't interested in her, right?

You didn't really want to interrupt them. Sure, you were protective, but you were also more than supportive of your friends, and you knew that even if she was clumsy, (F/n) was an adult who can handle herself well. And besides, what if there was indeed a romance brewing between them? You didn't want to intrude or destroy what was slowly forming.

Opening your phone, you opted to send her a small message.

'Hey, (F/n)! Just wanted to tell you that I'll be heading home. Don't wanna interrupt you and your possible Mister Right. Enjoy your time with him, but don't be too trusting and remember to put your guard up when you feel in danger, okay? Stay safe, love yaaa.'

You gave the two one last look and see her laughing at whatever the guy was saying. You rolled your eyes yet a fond smile on your face, knowing that the guy will probably be one of her newest fixations that month that she won't shut up about.

"And! AND! He was just so good with his words! Like, I know he's not Japanese, can't even speak our language. But when he speaks English, oh god! It's too attractive. Oh my god, I am so glad I paid attention to English class!"

You let out a laugh at her squeals, although being mindful not to let out a loud one. You were, after all, in the bus headed to the Blue Lock facility to finally start your job again.

Just as you predicted, (F/n) as absolutely taken by whoever that blonde guy was. As she usually does, she likes people quite easily, either romantic or platonic as long as they fit the so-called 'vibe' for her.

Turns out, the guy was actually Brazillian and lives in Spain, but he was just here in Japan for some sort of 'work,' that he had.

"I remember asking him about what he do and he answered, but geez...the hangover took over my brain more than his answer. I feel so disappointed! I didn't even get to ask him for his number!!"

"Well, that sucks. But, hey, if it's meant to be, then it's meant to be, right? I'm sure fate will make you two meet again, one way or another."

Oh, if only you knew how you were both so right yet so wrong at that moment.

"I got it, Ego-san! Have a nice day!"

You smiled before exiting Ego's office, stacks of paper in hand. It was all full of information about each stratum's players. Such as health concerns and history for the clinic, stats for the editors to edit on the episodes of Blue Lock TV, hell, even some preferences they might like for you to cater to them! (You didn't have to do that, but you still did since you are a people pleaser, shush)

Looking down at the newer schedules around the place, you knew you had to make a new timetable for yourself and the players to allow the Neo-Egoist League matches to shine and be given time in certain days while still taking to account the usual things done around the facility.

Too focused on brainstorming ideas, you did not see someone walking past you in time and accidentally nidged your shoulders against theirs. The papers fell to the ground due to the pack of support, the flicking noises of the material panicking you a bit since there were so many of them, and now they're all scattered on the floor.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking!"

"Está bien, yo también lo siento, bonita." The man let out an amused yet deep chuckle.

Blinking at the unfamilliar language, you suddenly remembered the earpiece Anri gave you, given by the Mikage Corps to help with the language barrier between the foreign players and the Japanese ones.

Taking them from your pocket before putting them on in your ear, you finally turned your head to face the person you bumped into, and the familiarity of him couldn't make you stop the visceral reaction to speak.

"It's you...from the bar!"

You gasped before covering your mouth, now feeling a huge wave of embarrassment. The blonde hair, the tanned skin with tattoos, the grin, it was familiar. That was why he seemed so familiar.

The man your friend was with that night was Lavinho, the so-called 'Dancer' due to his creative dribbling on the field, like he was dancing, with the ball as his dancing prop.

You felt so stupid. Why did you not recognise him so easily when you have watched some of his games online before? Meanwhile, Lavinho seemed confused by what your outburst meant.

"Oh uh, sorry...I just...I saw you in a bar, like 2 days ago..."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, you were talking to my friend..."

"Oh, her? (F/n), right? Yeah, I remember her. Heh, she was really pretty. But, I didn't know she had a fine friend as well." He said, a mischievous grin on his face as he helped you pick up the paperworks on the ground.

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, eyes slanted in suspicion.

'This guy...I'm glad (F/n) didn't get his number, he seems like a loose guy.'

"Thank you...? Um, thank you for helping me."

"No problem. Glad to help a beautiful woman."

'Yeah, okay...he is THAT type of guy.'

You gave a smile, one that is not so genuine yet you did not want to be rude to him, since he was visitor from a foreign country and who knows if there was a camera in the halls watching you both.

"How else may I help you, Lavinho-san?"

"Oh, maybe you can help me with this!"

He turned a bit more serious as he showed whatever training schedule the Blue Lockers themselves created for themselves (since Lavinho was a master who preferred the players make it since they know their own strength and individuality), reading the tables and messy handwriting of what the players thought they wanted or needed in their training, you just nodded at some of them.

"Hmm, these are really good! I'll recommend some things though to make it better."

You were recommending different suggestions, pointing things out with a softer and kinder tone, and entertaining any ideas or questions from him. Smiling wider as more questions pass, enjoying the challenge and widening your knowledge on the sports.

Meanwhile, Lavinho found himself enjoying his time with you. Throwing ideas back and forth, hell, he was even a little bit closer to your body now, wanting to make sure he heard you better. His movement towards your figure unintentional, like a magnetic force was dragging him to you.

But why? He didn't know. All he knew was that you were an interesting person to talk to, especially when it came to the sport he was very passionate about.

'She's not just fine, but smart and individualistic too, huh?'

ADDITIONAL TIME!

Otoya: Which type do you want-

Lavinho: Preferably a woman who is (height), has (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes, likes (color), is smart, responsible, beautiful, and is a manager of the Blue Lock Facility.

Hayate: That's just Y/n-san.

Lavinho: Exactly.

Bachira: *Already prepared to pounce*

Otoya: I meant what type of workout we should do today, old man.

This was longer than it should be lol

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

[sigh-tofm]

if you’re a gym rat… (some 18+)

… price

- gets back into it. has always had a certain level of physique he’s had to keep up being in the army, but he isn’t the young sergeant he once was anymore. still, he usually jogs twice a week and lifts some weights when time allows.

- that is, until you start pulling him along. early morning leg sessions with the sunrise and lighthearted planking contests during the footie halftime. equally enjoys getting back into the workout game, spending time with you and getting to look at your body in the tight gym wear. especially loves the the soft pudge at the bottom of your stomach and the way all of you jiggle when you do burpees.

- showers with you after the fact. long, steamy showers in each other’s arms. no sex in there (you’re both sore and the floor is slippery), but it’s not necessary. you’re content with the hot water massaging your spent muscles and the feeling of your solid lover around you.

… kyle

- hypes you up. already spends more time in the gym than you do, so he knows every exercise and machine in and out. eagerly teaches you everything and anything you ask him about. never lets anyone else spot you, always does it himself. especially likes spotting your squats.

- follows your pace, whether that means exhausting himself for you or slowing down for you. will join you on hill sprints and long distance runs, but is thankful he gets to hold the stop watch and blow the whistle when you do beep tests.

- thinks the act of exercising together can be as intimate as sex itself. getting to observe and explore each other bodies, each other’s strengths and weaknesses. half of it is a mental game and not too unlike kink, he thinks, as you groan and contort your face while pushing your feet into to ground, tensing your muscles into the belt to help with the deadlift. he nods approvingly when you straighten your back and breath out at the top of the lift. ‘one more for me, baby.’

… johnny

- eggs you on. like kyle, always helps you go harder, faster, longer, but does it by way of teasing. ‘that all, then? come oan, ye had more in ye last night.’ always toes the line between encouraging and infuriating, but to his credit he also tricks you into lifting the bar one more time instead of putting it down.

- jogs become races and walks become dogwalks. johnny is restless even if you’re both coming straight from an intense hiit-session. if you’ve decided on a leisurely pace, johnny will run ahead and circle back, take detours to look at interesting buildings and natural features, and constantly weave left and right on the path ahead or behind you, like a border collie.

- does not mind the sweat after a session. will eat you out in the parking lot until the car windows fog up. eventually pulls your panties back up and pat your belly over them, only to drive back home and do it all over again in the shower.

… ghost

- never leaves you. you’d think he keeps up a pretty strict routine with that pure strength he possesses, but he will drop anything if you suggest going hiking or practice a specific form. nothing is too boring, basic or easy if he’s doing it with you. that includes yoga, where you are actually leagues ahead of him in balance and flexibility. the only thing he has going for him is his sniper’s patience.

- effortlessly lifts the bar up when spotting your bench presses and you hit failure. leans down over the bar to kiss your nose while you catch your breath. ‘look at tha’. i’ll take ten kilos off, let’s end this on a high note.’ won’t hear your protests about how that’s not how it’s done, and make you do another rep with less weight, to keep the muscle memory of perfect form.

- ends each session with you practicing grip, which is something you both need to work on, you’ll hang face to face on the power rack and simultaneously try not to laugh while also gripping the bar for as long as you can. having an excuse to look you dead in the eyes is simon’s favourite part of each session.

[crystalflygeo]

Surrogate eggs ft Zhongli + fem!reader

cw/tags: Egg-laying/Oviposition, semi-plublic sex, multiple orgasms, slight fingering, overstimulation, dirty talk, breeding kink, Zhongli has a dragon tongue, praise kink, sex toys??, improper use of geo (can you tell I love that tag?), pet names, some pain??, aftercare.

notes: I disappear for a week and come back with this absolute FILTH omg. It really is just almost 2k of egg-laying made sexy because I am a degenerate and want nothing more than Zhongli filling me up with eggs <3 sorry not sorry.

Having a 6000 years old dragon ex-god as a lover sure meant you were already more or less used to a certain… spice in your life.

But this, this was certainly new.

“Ah- Zhong- Hnnhg!”

Your legs tremble as a newborn fawn as you stray off the main path and lean against one of the golden ginkgo trees by the side, panting and whining softly.

“Are you alright dear? You look quite flustered.” Zhongli curiously trails after you, hands behind his back, perfectly poised. As if he wasn’t the one making the cor lapis eggs in your pussy vibrate and tease your insides. “Do you need to rest? We’ve barely reached the base of Qingyun peak.” He asks, an amused smile on his lips.

“B-bastard.” You huff out with a pout and immediately feel the vibrations intensify. “O-Oh… fuck-”

Three. Three small polished cor lapis pieces in the shape of eggs, warm and snug and deep inside you. They shift and rub against your sweet spots, pulsing at his will ever since you stepped foot in Jueyun Karst, at first it was an odd sensation but soon enough your panties were soaked, juices running down your legs as you struggled to keep standing, sweet noises coming out of your mouth that only made Zhongli’s gaze darken.

“Zhongli…” You cry out.

“Yes, darling?”

“S-stop… mmh”

“Oh? But you seem to be enjoying yourself so much.”

“Stop… playing dumb.” You grit your teeth, clinging to the tree for dear life. The vibrations calming down to a soft hum, a gentle fucking not unlike his cock. “Please I’m-” You whine again.

You feel his finger softly raise your chin and your hazy half-lidded eyes were met with glittering gold, his diamond pupils mesmerizing and his stare soft and affectionate but also domineering, commanding, and full of lust.

“What do you need, my dear? Tell me.”

You choke a moan at his authoritarian presence, shifting and rubbing your legs together as the pleasure robs you of your strength. “P-please… Zhongli, make me come, please I n-need- It’s not… enough.”  

His eyes shift to the side as he seems to consider it for a moment and you almost mewl for his attention, eyebrows knitting together trying to steel yourself.

“Alright.” He concedes, and leans forward to kiss you softly.

Well, at first.

The geo eggs inside you start to shake and vibrate more intensely and you gasp at the sudden rush of stimulation, Zhongli holds you and pulls you closer, taking the chance to snake his long dragon tongue into your mouth, quickly deepening the kiss and set on devouring you.  

“Hmpnnng-” He swallows your moan as you kiss back the best way you can but it’s suddenly so much- too much- you’ve been teased and edged all the way and he’s- he’s just-

Your body shudders in his arms and you let out a high-pitched noise as you climax. Your insides squeezing and milking the toys inside you, dragging on the pleasure for longer and you cling onto him as your legs threaten to give up. Bliss, pure bliss. And he hasn’t even touched you proper yet.

“There we go…” His rough voice mumbles as he breaks apart the filthy kiss, his hands rub at your hips and you vaguely realize the geo eggs have stopped again. He carefully maneuvers your pliant body until you’re both sitting on the yellowed Liyue grass, his back resting against the tree while you sit between his legs, your back pressed to his chest.

He spreads your legs and holds them open with his own, you blush heavily as you realize his intentions, hiking up your skirt to reveal soft thighs and wet panties to the world. The flimsy fabric is soaked and clings uncomfortably against your pussy, more so as you feel the soft breeze.

“W-wait… right here?”

It is true that barely anyone ever enters Jueyun Karst but it was still risky. A lost adventurer, a lone merchant… you weren’t that far from the main dirt path, anyone could walk in and see you… exposed like this.

Your insides clenched, throbbing around nothing but the eggs inside of you.

Archons you really were depraved.

Zhongli rubs your inner thighs comfortingly before pulling your panties aside, his long gloved fingers skim your heated pussy lips and rub at your hole as it twitches wildly in response.

“Zhongli…” You moan weakly. “I’m so full.”

“I know, you look so pretty with my eggs inside you. Breathtaking.” His other hand rubs circles on your navel. The warmth within the geo energy sent through him spreading heat in a sensual way. “How about you push them out for me and we can be done. I’ll take you home so you can rest, my precious mate.” He nuzzles you.

“W-wha…” You mumble dumbly, but instinctively lean to his touch.

“They’ve been inside you long enough, and… we’ve had our fun.” He explains, kissing at your jaw. Two of his fingers easily sliding inside you, making you jump. “Don’t you think it’s time to let them out? I want to see you lay them.”

Pressure builds in your gut and you nod, biting your lip. Her works those sinful fingers in and out of your pussy slowly, scissoring them to stretch you a little and you moan. Not that you needed that much preparation with the recent orgasm and your… activities early that morning.

After all, those eggs had gotten in somehow, hadn’t they?

Only a few moments later and you feel ready, panting rapidly as if you truly were going into labor yet at the brink of another orgasm, you weakly pulled his hand away “H-Hold me…” You mutter heatedly. Zhongli kisses you softly and you take a deep breath.

And push.

The first egg slides down freely inside you, rapidly moving until it catches at your entrance, it burns a little but feels so good, lightning up pleasured nerves in a way that had you mewling before the stretch disappears, coming out alongside your spilling juices and onto the grass.   

Zhongli doesn’t hesitate to slip his fingers back into your heated core to soothe the sore muscles and play with your pussy a bit more, rubbing over your raw clit to make your hips stutter and your legs shake trying to close.

“That’s the first one, two more.” He says softly, his chin resting on your shoulder as he obviously stares between your legs entranced. You flush at his actions. “You can do it.” He encourages you, elegant fingers spreading your folds lewdly and soaking in your essences.

The whole experience is making you dizzy.

“I-I just… I just need a moment.” You pant, groaning and shifting your position a little so you’re less sitting and more lying against him, lifting your hips slightly and offering him an even better view from above.

“Just imagine the real thing. There will be more of them, slightly bigger and thrumming with elemental energy.” He growled softly against your ear. “Our children. Our clutch.”

It’s just dirty talk. It’s just dirty talk and it sets your blood on fire to hear it. You know his base draconic instincts are going haywire with the idea and archons you want that. You want that so badly.

Another egg stretches your hole and you can only imagine what it looks like as it slips and spreads you open. “Ah- Ah!” You toss your head back, let out a long moan and strain the muscles of your stomach before finally it slips out.

“Good girl.” Comes his smooth baritone in the form of a praise. You sigh in relief, rutting against his fingers as reward. You see slick threads of your juices all over on his gloves, the shiny eggs and your pussy, connecting everything together in a mess of a shiny cobweb. It’s obscene.

It’s so hot.

“Just one more, darling.” The ex-archon soothes you, possessively rubbing at your navel once again although you feel something’s different, like something shifts a little inside you. “Though, I feel this one is just a little bigger… closer to the real thing.”

Your eyes widen.

“No, no, no, you did it on purpose… just now… m-make it smaller again, please!” You shake your head frantically, digging your nails against his arms and squirming against the feeling of his fingertips dancing around your folds.

“Shhh, shhh” He cooed, kissing at your neck. “You can do it, I know you can. Consider it… practice.” You can practically feel the smirk Zhongli presses against your skin.

“I already came so much…” You whisper, tears in your eyes. “Zhongliiii…”

“You got this.” He kisses your temple. “Just one more. I want to see that sweet pussy stretch around my egg, please?”

You groan at his filthy words, hips snapping against phantom stimulation as your pussy quivers. You brace yourself and breathe in deeply before squeezing your eyes shut and doing your best to push against the overstimulation. Your hole stretches impossibly wide, widening against the grit of the egg and pressing against your clit making you keen. It rests there a few seconds, heavy, solid, before finally popping out with a wet squelch, dropping right by the other two, and you scream at the excruciating mix of pain and pleasure.

For a moment you can’t even breathe, much less speak as you rest a little. Black spots dance in your vision and your ears are ringing. When you come to again Zhongli is desperately peppering you with kisses, caresses and praise. Hugging you close and growling dark promises into your skin.

“-did so well. My little mate. My perfect mate. Want to breed you for real. Fill you up. You’d give me wonderful little half adepti. So good for me. Truly worthy to be a dragon’s mate. Should keep you in my nest. Love you so much-”      

Sluggish, you close your legs and pull down your skirt clumsily, ignoring the soreness and sticky feeling as your body sags against him in exhaustion.    

The dragon is practically purring, having mellowed down a little yet obviously pleased after having you bear his eggs, albeit fake ones. The intention is there… as well as the possibility for the future.

“We should go to the abode, you deserve a good rest. I’ll clean you up and get you something to eat and drink, hm?”

“Just a little more, Li.” You mumble tired. “It’s warm and cozy here…”

He chuckles and pets your hair. “Alright.”

[eff4freddie]

Touch | Epilogue

Joel makes good on his promise to date you, at least once.

Words: 4k

Warnings: Just a slutty lil farewell to our resident Jackson masseuse and her grumpy-arse maybe sorta boyfriend, smut, vaginal fingering, sexy times, stockings that are far too thin for early Spring. Minors DNI

A/N: Another thank you for your support of this little story that ended up being a bit bigger and more complex than I expected. I went there because of your encouragement. Thank you, always.

Part Eight | Series Masterlist

The season was turning, but there was still a chill of a nighttime. It had been six weeks since Joel returned to Jackson, the medical supplies he and the second expedition managing to find and defend ensuring a healthy and safe Jackson for at least another two winters. The whole energy of the place, the optimism, was back in the community, and you had thrived in it, started to bloom alongside the wildflowers dotting the pathways into town.

You’d spent the time working, teaching Ellie, occasionally hanging around Joel’s place while he convalesced, first in his bed, then on the new-ish couch Tommy had found and dragged in through the back door. It wasn’t leather like his old one, and the springs stuck out in the centre so that you had to be very careful where you sat, but it was better than the rocking chair, and it was enough for him to sit still in for at least a few weeks.

He kept promising that he was going to date you, at least once if you’d let him, and each time you’d fobbed him off, telling him he had to get better first, that he was no good to you limping, that you wanted him marginally less grumpy if he could manage it. You weren’t sure why you were stalling, other than that you felt you were toes to the edge of a precipice.

When you were little your little family of four had driven out to the Grand Canyon, and you’d stood on the edge of the red dirt and been totally overwhelmed by the size of it, of all the negative space, the absence. You’d found yourself, aged eight and a half, ready to cry and even now, thirty years later, you remembered the howling wind, the echo of it.

You thought about the beauty of it, now. Now that you had seen so much worse, so much more, you reminded yourself that people used to travel entire countries to see the Grand Canyon. In your mind’s eye you entered your memories and stood beside yourself, your child self, and took her hand. You pointed to the sky, drew her eyes up and away from the ground beneath. Felt her pulse race under your touch as you showed her that the magnitude of it was the beauty in it, was the point of it all.

You accepted Joel’s invitation for the next Friday night. Then you ran to Maria’s to find something to wear.

--

You were supposed to meet at 8, a respectable time after dinner so as not to feel like you needed to have a meal; a more casual time, a more intimate time, when you could drink and chat and only stay an hour if you found it wasn’t working. It was both an in and an out.

Except that you were late, your last client having not only stored muscle tension in his fascia but emotional tension as well, and as soon as you had pushed into the glute he had unleashed years of mourning, of loss, of fears. You had stopped, wrapped him in a towel and pulled him upright, stood back and let him shake with the force of it. It wasn’t new, that people would come with muscle aches and discover trauma aches instead, but you lost track of time trying to put him back together again, trying to assure him of his safety. Tommy was right; sometimes it doesn’t come out until you feel safe enough to let it.

But it meant by the time you were pulling your door open you were about forty minutes late. Your cheeks burned with the shame of it, your timekeeping one of your strengths in the before-times, in the times when you had no other responsibilities other than the hell of being 15.

Joel was coming up your path and you stopped, nearly dropping the jacket you were still trying to pull over your shoulders. You couldn’t read his expression in the dark but his eyes were on you, and he was coming up, fast.

‘Joel, I’m so sorry,’ you started, as he strode towards you and up your porch. ‘I got caught up with a client, I couldn’t leave until they were…’ his hands were on you then, gripping you to him, your jaw resting in his warm palm.

‘You OK?’ he asked you, his eyes searching yours.

‘I’m fine, of course I am,’ you said, flustered, under the intensity of his inspection. ‘I just couldn’t…he was so sad, Joel. I had to stay.’

He nods at this, his jaw ticking. You resisted the urge to reach up and sink your fingertips into the masseter. ‘Were you worried about me, Joel?’ you asked, and he narrowed his eyes at you, then, suddenly freezing up.

‘Thought you weren’t coming, or that you were…thought maybe something had happened,’ he said, and you felt yourself soften.

‘I’m fine. And I would never stand you up,’ you said, moving to hold him around his waist, to circle him in your arms, only able to reach halfway around him, broad as he was. He avoided your eyes, the worry etched deep into his brow.

You still hadn’t kissed him. All of the things he had done to you, the way he had pulled you apart under his hands, his mouth, spread around his cock, nothing so intimate as a kiss.

‘I’m sorry,’ you said again, low and velvet in your throat. ‘I really like you, Joel,’ you went on, and he finally met your gaze, again. The naked vulnerability in it making you pause. You wondered how many people had ever seen this side of him. You suspected he could count them on one paw.

‘It’s late,’ he said, and started to pull away from you. ‘Maybe we should try again some other time.’ To your dismay he had nearly turned his back to you, and without thinking you grabbed him around the middle and tried to turn him back.

‘Wait,’ you said, and he hissed then, his muscles seizing. You let go of him, horrified.

‘M’ok,’ he muttered, raising his hand to stop you from rushing toward him. ‘Just…still gettin’ there, is all.’

‘Come in, please,’ you said, not touching him, not moving towards him, hoping your voice would be enough to get him to stay. ‘It’s cold, I have a bottle of whiskey Tommy slipped me when you were in the hospital, I can…’

‘You needed whiskey, baby?’ he said, and he had that lopsided grin on his face again, and you wanted to lick it off him. ‘Were you worried about little ole me?’

Never mind, you wanted to slap it off.

‘Oh for fucks sake,’ you said, rolling your eyes and turning back to your door. ‘Don’t get all cute just because I got scared when you nearly died,’ you said, and you heard him chuckle. You entered your house and turned to him, one hand on the door. ‘In or out?’ you asked, and you knew that you were talking to the both of you, knew that he wasn’t the only one facing the indecision, knew that you palming the responsibility off onto him, that you would accept his decision even if it meant never talking to him again. He hesitated, but only for a moment.

--

He was back in your kitchen, on the same chair from a more recent before-time, from before he’d found a place for himself somewhere under your skin. You were both sipping your whiskey, listening to the crackling fire in the other room, letting the silence seep out and blanket you. He was still enormous, still took up nearly half the space, and you ceded all of it to him.

‘Ellie speaks the world of you,’ he said, after a while, and you knew that this was important to him, that first and foremost he was her dad, her keeper and her protector.

‘She’s a lovely kid,’ you said, and then corrected yourself. ‘Not a kid. She’d fucking kill me if she knew I said that.’

He chucked into his glass. ‘Won’t tell her,’ he promised.

‘How’s that healing?’ you asked, gesturing to his wrist. It wasn’t in a splint anymore but it was still tightly bandaged.

‘S’just weak, aches in the cold,’ he said, and you nodded. You reached out and pulled it towards you, lay it on the kitchen table between you. You slipped the bandage away, watched the blood rush back in and pink up the flesh underneath it.

‘You need to stretch it, keep it strong,’ you said. ‘Bones probably healed but now the muscles’ll be lazy.’

‘Yes, doctor,’ he said, and you glanced up at him, at the crinkles in his skin and the warmth in his eyes as he teased you.

‘I mean it,’ you said, pretending to be offended, using it as an excuse to slip your hands around his wrist, his forearm. You felt the chords of the muscles there, the sinew and the veins. You rubbed your thumbs in firm circles, like you had shown him to do on your knee, all those weeks ago. You blushed at the thought of it, at the echo of the pleasure he had wrung from you not ten paces away.

He grunted a little, shifted in his seat, and you pulled his arm up at a right angle, so that his elbow was resting on the table. ‘Here, do this,’ you said, and you slipped your fingers between his, rested your forearm against his, leant in a little to ease your combined weight onto the joint.

‘I’m going to try and push your hand backwards, you push back,’ you said.

‘We arm wrestlin’?’ he asked, smiling again.

‘We will if you don’t behave yourself,’ you shot back, and he grinned.

‘Tell me when,’ he said, and you nodded your head. He grimaced at the strain through the joint, but you felt it stretch, felt it working under the force you were applying to it.

‘That’s good,’ you said, without thinking, ‘doing real well.’ He sucked a shy little breath in through his teeth. You stopped pushing, looking up into his pink cheeks. You continued to hold his hand, your eyes fixed to his.

‘Say it again,’ he said, and your mouth went dry.

‘Doing real well, Joel,’ you said, and watched as he blinked slowly, drinking it in. ‘Doing so good.’

He pulled you then, by the arm, out of your chair and into his lap, his mouth finding your neck and suckling, hard, as you struggled for purchase on his thighs. You could feel how hard he was through his jeans, the pulse of it pushing into your cunt as you settled yourself down on him, your thin little stockings under Maria’s borrowed dress doing absolutely nothing to provide a barrier against his throbbing for you.

He gasped, looked up at you as you perched above him. His pupils, blown wide with want, mirroring the ache you felt between your legs and in your heart for him. He tasted like peppermint toothpaste and you wondered idly if he’d brushed his teeth before heading to the Bison, if he’d hoped this would be the end result of the night or if it was just habit. You smelt the leather of his worn jacket. You reached up and let his salt and pepper beard scratch at the skin on your fingertips.

‘So good to us, Joel,’ you said, and you heard the gentlest whimper catch in his throat. ‘Looking after the town. Keeping us safe.’

‘Want to keep you, baby,’ he whispered, his eyes dropping to examine your lips. ‘Keep you tucked up all warm and safe, keep you under my roof where I know you’re protected.’ You shivered, at the heat of it, at the sincerity in it. ‘Be the one to shield you. All sweet and soft in your little kitchen. Wanting me, waiting f’me.’ He finished, biting his bottom lip.

‘I want you,’ you said, simply, feeling his cock jump underneath you.

‘Yeah?’ he asked, and you nodded.

‘Been waiting,’ you bit out, realising for the first time that it was true.

‘M’sorry baby,’ he said, playfully goading you. ‘Where did ya want me?’ he whispered, tucking his head under your chin and licking a stripe up your neck, chewing idly on your earlobe. You shivered again, a shuddering little thing that also came with a whimper. You took his hand from your waist and dropped it to your pussy, pushed his fingers to cup you there, gasping when he ran a fingertip along your seam.

‘Everywhere,’ you whispered, and he grunted, shifting his weight. With one warm hand splayed across your shoulder blades he leant you back, his eyes running up and down your body, devouring you. He kept his hand on your cunt, idly running a finger up and down where you ached the most for him, and you worried for a moment that he would feel how wet he’d made you just with his gaze.  

His breath was warm across your cheeks when he exhaled. He took the hand from between your legs and cupped your breast, rolled the nipple through your dress, made you whimper.

‘Joel,’ you whispered, and you watched as his eyes lit up, as the sparks caught on kindling and turned into a forest fire, as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing from the strain. You wanted to run your tongue over his bottom lip, nip at it.

‘Sssh, baby, I know,’ he said, pulling you up off his lap to stand in front of him, your knees shaking. His arms bracketed your hips, gripping the table behind you, so you were surrounded by him. He remained seated, watching you from under heavy eyelids.

‘Take it off,’ he said, and you felt your pulse in your neck, thunderous.

‘Which?’ you asked.

‘Maria’s dress you don’t think I recognise, those silly little stockings that ain’t doing nothin’ to keep out the cold.’

He leant back on the chair again, kicked his legs out so that you were standing between his ankles now, leant his arm on the back of the chair and scratched at his beard. ‘Well, go on,’ he said, and you felt so exposed to him then, vulnerable in the heat of his stare.

‘Help me,’ you said, feigning not being able to get to the zipper, just for the excuse of turning away from him, from his eyes that were taking you apart atom by atom, from his hands resting on his thigh, from his thick fingers you wanted to slip into your mouth, let him push down on your tongue and suckle at him.

You felt his hands on your back, the zip coming down, the way he slipped the dress from you like he was unwrapping a present on Christmas morning. You leant over a little, trying to slip your stockings off and you heard him moan, felt his hands on you again, his warm paw on your lower back pushing you into a deeper bend, the other pulling on your hips to bring you closer to him, his hands gripping you, positioning you. You heard his sharp inhale when you slipped the stockings over your bottom, felt your cheeks blaze when he reached up and slipped your panties off along with them, bent over and completely exposed to him, wet and glistening in the light of the kitchen, the sound of your gasped little whimpers mixing with the ever-present whir of your forty-year-old fridge.

‘Oh, my girl,’ he said, and you wanted to launch yourself at him, seat yourself back on his lap and bury your head in his neck but he was running his hands up and down the back of your thighs, edging himself closer on the chair, pushing you forward so that your breasts rested on the kitchen table, your cheek flush to the cold wood.

He bent his head and placed a single kiss at the base of your spine and you worried your knees would buckle, worried you would collapse onto the kitchen tile. As you gasped he brought his hands up to cup your bottom, spreading your cheeks enough to slip a thumb into your cunt, probe the warmth and feel the wet collecting on his fingertip. You startled, trying to buck away, trying to buck towards him, circling your hips to capture him inside you, and you heard him chuckle, felt his lips dip lower to your tailbone as he twisted his hands, his thumb still inside as his fingers came around to cup and rub at your slit, your poor little aching clit caught between his fingertips.

‘Jesus,’ you cried, finding religion despite never having set foot in a church.

‘Want to keep you full of me,’ he muttered, sitting back down on the chair again and pulling you with him, spreading your legs over his so you were open wide, obscene and dripping in his lap, pulling your legs apart with his and whispering filth in your ear, cupping your breast with one hand and the other sliding into your heat.

‘Want to keep you here, my pretty girl all safe and warm in my arms, full of my cock and my fingers, crying out for me when I’m not there.’ You were gasping, your vision narrowing, barely able to concentrate on anything except for his words, for his fingers stretching you, his legs pulling you impossibly wide. ‘Won’t let nothin’ hurt ya, baby girl,’ he grit out, and you felt a sob rip through your throat, the pleasure he was drawing out of you mixing with the comfort, with the intoxicating allure of him protecting you, of him standing between you and so many terrors.

In your right mind you wouldn’t have believed him. Would have known there were things out there even the great Joel Miller couldn’t topple, that there were threats known and unknown, seen and unseen, things out there wanting to spill your blood, the blood of the people you cared the most for. But Joel was inside you, in your cunt and in your ear, and his words were chipping away at your resistance, sliding under the door long ago locked tight. You were far from your right mind. You surrendered to the seduction of it, of the intoxication of it, of the myth this man was peddling that you would buy again and again and again.

‘There she is,’ he said, as you came on his fingers, your cunt gripping him and your hips rolling, his face pressed hard into your neck as you twisted into the agony of it, your mouth open and gasping, your face turned to the Gods.

You felt his fingers underneath you, one hand wrapped tight around your torso to hold you steady as he released himself from his jeans, and you felt him then, pressed against the back of your thigh, the velvet heat of his length, the thundering throb of it. You had barely caught your breath, had yet to fully come back to yourself, before he was pushing himself into you, pulling you onto him, your neck caught in his teeth as he bit down on the nape, tried to stifle the groan blooming in his chest.

He felt bigger this way, the stretch even sharper despite his best attempts to prepare you, and your walls fluttered, fought to accept him. You shuddered, the sudden sting slamming you back into your body, and you gripped his hands to stop him, to pause. He stilled immediately, his breath hot and gasping.

‘Give me a minute,’ you gritted out, leaning back onto his shoulder and burying your nose in his jaw, panting, placing a placid little kiss to the salt and pepper patches there.

You felt him reach around you, his finger finding your clit and gently circling it, collecting your slick and pushing it over the nub to rid you of any friction. You groaned, arching your back against him, your hands digging into the meat of his thighs underneath you.

‘So beautiful like this,’ he whispered into your ear as you felt the pleasure overtake you, the throb in your cunt synchronised to your thundering pulse. ‘Can feel you gripping me,’ he went on. ‘Stuffed fulla me, baby.’

‘Stop,’ you gasped, the moment suddenly too intense, a fear gripping you then that if he kept talking you would give him anything; the shirt off your back, the blood in your veins. He chuckled, watching you struggle to take the pleasure he was pushing into you, through you.

It was wrong but you couldn’t figure out why, because it still felt so fucking good, and you wanted more but couldn’t figure out how it was possible, not sated by him seated fully inside you, not close enough to him as you pressed your body entirely against yours. You huffed, frustrated, standing before he could stop you and pivoting to face him, straddling him again in the chair and sinking yourself down on him in one swift motion, so that he gasped and then groaned when the heat of you enveloped him, joined you in a harsh cry when your clit met his hipbone and you settled there, shifted your hips to press into the nub.

‘S’better,’ you said, and you watched his lopsided grin emerge.

‘My girl miss seeing me?’ he asked, and you rolled your hips to shut him up, watched any semblance of cogent thought leave him when you gripped him there.

‘Say it again, Joel,’ you said, sliding your hips forward and back in a way that you knew wasn’t enough for him, but was making your clit throb when it grazed over his skin. He grunted, suddenly finding it hard to think clearly, and his brows saddled.

‘Keep you safe?’ he said, uncertain but meaning it anyway, and you shook your head.

‘Keep who safe?’ he asked.

‘You,’ he answered, still not following, and you planted your feet on the floor, raised yourself up just to bounce back down again.

‘Who am I, Joel?’ you asked, nearly breathless, and finally, finally he understood, his little huffed out laugh sending a thrill through you as he reached down between your bodies, felt where you were joined.

‘My girl,’ he said, finding your clit and edging his fingertips across it, sending fireworks up your spine. ‘My beautiful girl, so tight and wet, so needy for me, cryin’ out for me in her kitchen.’

You groaned, feeling him grip you around the middle with one arm, lifting you up and down on his cock, rocking into you and always, always, always watching your face, nibbling at your chin when you leant back to gasp for air.

You were going to come. It was too fast. You still had so many other things you wanted to say to him, wanted him with every atom of you, with every fibre, the neurons in your brain lighting up just for him. Wanting to live in the torrent of pleasure he brought out in you, wanted to twist and writhe in it. You felt, again, on the edge of tears, but not for wanting, this time. Not for the losses.

For the having. Of Jackson, of the wildflowers on the paths pushing past the cold. Of the little family you had eked out at the end of the world, of Ellie, of Tommy and Maria and Robin. Of this man under your body and on your kitchen chair, calling you his and promising to keep you safe. Of this man, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of oblivion and clinging to him, willingly readying yourself to cascade over it.

‘Want you right here, always,’ he grunted, and you keened, felt it then, that you were wanted, that you belonged.

You didn’t have the words for it, vowed in that moment that you would spend the rest of your life trying to find them. For right now you did the only thing you could think of, leaning over and gripping his jaw, angling his face to you as you landed your lips on him, kissed him as you felt a tear streak across your cheek and onto his skin, as you shuddered and felt your cunt milking him, as he spilled into you and you joined him, the ecstasy and the pleasure and the warmth of it. In your little house in Jackson, behind enormous walls, to hold you.

Taglist:

@orcasoul

@archofimagine

@hiroikegawa

@ilovejoel-andjavi

@giggly-otter

@harrysrosetatto

@Hjzghi-blog

@daddy-dins-girl

@kathaaaaaaa

@anoverwhelmingdin

@pedropascalsbbg

[writers-requiem]

Title: Back Home in Your Arms

Genere: Marvel, Superheroes, Comfort

Pairing: Beast x superhero!Reader

Warnings: Blood, descriptions of graphic injury, depictions of anxiety attacks, emotional breakdown

Rating: E10+ for Everyone 10 and up.

It was a quiet day. Or at least, that's what he told himself.

You had been away for days on end for a business trip to Chicago, and you both expected your return to be in just a week.

But then a week turned into two, then three plus some days. All the while his anxiety began to grow higher and higher.

To summarize what happened with Hank during the extra time you were gone, let's get descriptive.

Day 1: You both had assumed that your flight was simply delayed so didn't think much of it. So you went about doing your usual things to pass the time until the day concluded.

Day 2: He felt a little on edge, but not too terribly worried. Still, he sent you a text to make sure you were alright. After a few hours of no reply, his anxiety began to grow, but it was still manageable.

Days 3-4: He tried to call you over and over during his downtime, to which he got no response of any sort other than silence.

Days 5-7: His condition was visibly getting worse. He ate less and slept barely any at all. And even if he did sleep, he'd have frequent nightmares about what may have happened to you. Were you cheating on him? Was someone taking advantage of you? Did someone kidnap you? All these questions in his head made him uneasy.

Days 8-10: It's really getting bad, his figure has slimmed down at an alarming rate, the bags under his eyes are heavier than ever, and he can barely even do his usual tasks without his arms shaking or losing his grip. Not to mention his vision is getting worse, not even glasses help him.

Days 11-14: Now Hank is at his most vulnerable. He's holed up in his room, wracked with worry. His sanity is beginning to slip from fear, his heart rate is through the roof, eyes reddened from the seemingly endless hours of either silent or open crying. The others were already worried about him, but now their concerns are at an all-time high. Even before then, they had tried to trace your location to see where you were and what was going on so he could calm down a little, but nothing turned up.

Day 15: Half a month later and still no news. His room is trashed, his mood now only ranges from sad, to frightened. It's not a pretty sight.

A day later and there's a knock on the door.

Logan answers it and sees a slightly familiar face.

Logan: "He's not looking too good. You should see for yourself."

He led you to his room which had a name tag that read "Hank McCoy" in gold lettering.

Logan left you alone and you entered the room, noticing the state of disarray it was in, and the crumpled blue furry man on the ground, crunched up in the fetal position.

You: "Hank?"

You placed a hand on his head, causing him to jolt up and look at you.

It takes a couple minutes of him looking you over, feeling your skin and even sniffing your hair and the crook of your neck, but eventually, he realizes that it's you.

He's quick to embrace you, forgetting his own strength in spite of his condition. Still, you didn't mind. You were just happy to see him again. But his face was still wracked with worry. Your clothes were torn, and your body was covered in scratches, bruises, a black eye, deep cuts and lots of blood.

Hank: "Where have you been? What happened? Are you okay? Who hurt you? When did you-"

During his torrent of questions, you soothed his soul with a gentle kiss on the lips.

He closed his eyes and held you a bit more gently than previously. Then he pulled you in for another hug and showed no signs of letting you go.

You: "Long story short, supervillains interrupted the trip which made us late for our flights home, so I needed to hitch a few rides back here."

You took a look at the room around you and remarked how uncharacteristically messy it was.

You: "But it looks like you've been through a hell of your own."

Hank: "All that matters is that we're here. Home in our arms."

Afterwards the two of you took a shower to clean each other off after the past few days of chaos, then you slept together on the couch, the best sleep either of you have had in days. And come the next day, you spent it cleaning up his room and making sure he took care of himself. Meaning making sure he had plenty to eat and drink, getting in some exercise, and taking plenty of breaks. And in record time, he was back to his usual self.

You: "Now remember, if this happens again Hank, don't worry about me. I may not have powers, but I won't go down that easy."

Hank: "I know. Sorry love."

You two shared a kiss and just sat together in his lab, you snuggled up against him while he got back to work on his projects.

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

ToA Fic Recs!!!

Tag List: @itscharliebabey

ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE!

I probably forgot a LOT but these are the ones I tracked down via bookmarks and frantic searches upon realizing they Were Not bookmarked rip 😔

AND ALL ORGANIZED!!!! :DDD

OneShots

Apollo & His Kids

A Heart Heavy With Memories by @summerbummin

After reclaiming his godhood, Apollo visits his children often, and on one of those visits he tells them about their mortal parents. He shows them memories of their time together. And ends up reminiscing a little more than he bargained for.

How I Met Your Mother(s and Fathers) by NebuchadnezzarII

Around the Cabin Seven table, Apollo tells each of his six children how he met their parents.

Through The Son's Eyes by @literallyjusttoa

A journey through Asclepius' relationship with his dad, from Ancient Greece to modern day.

demand nothing less (than transformation) by tissuebocks

Dad is quiet for a moment, stroking her hair. Then, with a surge of his usual flamboyant excitement: “At what time is your date?” Kayla blinks. She pulls back a little to look at Dad. He’s still a little blurry from the tears, but she feels much calmer now. “He’s picking me up at six. …Why?” Dad’s eyes—cobalt blue—sparkle. Literally. “We’re going to dress you to the nines.” (or: apollo loves his daughter. he also loves fashion. even better is when the two intersect.)

@tsarinatorment

Can't Take My Eyes Off You

Naomi Solace is performing at a black tie event, and neither her son nor his boyfriend know much about formalwear. Day 2: Black Tie Event

Fatal Flaw

Every demigod had one, and every demigod had their trial where they had to face it head on and hope they had the strength to defeat it before it defeated them. Day 24: Injuries Beyond Healing

A Right To Emotions

Apollo had abandoned his son when he needed him, and the worst thing was that he’d never realised until Nico told him. Day 30: Forgiveness In A New Day

Childhood, Or A Lack Thereof

Demigods grow up too fast. Day 23: How long does youth last for?

Memories of Sunflowers

He first met his dad in a field of sunflowers. Day 2: Alone in a Sunflower Field

Shuttered Heart

Apollo loves fiercely and his losses hit all the harder for it. It's a trait his children inherit.

Daughter of Archery

If there’s one thing Kayla knows, it’s archery. Day 17: Perfection Is A Must

Apollo & Meg

Movie Night by @falconfrost

Meg and Apollo attend a midnight horror movie showing. Everyone likes clowns, right?

yesteryear by @m-arnie-xx

yesteryear (noun) — last year or the recent past, especially as nostalgically recalled; often a period in the past with a set of values or a way of life that no longer exists. Or, There is eighteen hours, thirty-five minutes, and nine seconds, between when Meg last sees Apollo, and when Artemis sends a sign to Camp Half-Blood to tell them that he has survived and defeated Python.

lesterlicious by apopcornkernel

yazz_ • 1 week ago This dude is straight up LARPing as the god Apollo or something 4.7K likes REPLY View 25 replies

Meg & Apollo's Highly Limited Roadtrip Playlist by Curioser

Fourteen hundred miles. Four radio stations. Two friends trying hard not to kill each other, or to acknowledge the fact that in less than a week, they may never see each other again. And Lizzo. So much Lizzo.

visions of beasts by UKULELEchildren

Suddenly, a figure appeared in the dark haze. A vague smudge of purple appeared. His cloak. “No.” I whispered. “You’re dead.” What would Meg have visions about?

Apollo & Olympus

Beneath the Rhododendrons by Lepidopterrain

Carefully, she slipped past the hyacinths that had popped up around the bush like a small protective wall. They'd been the only reason she'd looked down at that spot really, and noticed the flash of gold curls amongst the pinks, reds, and purples of the rhododendrons. Artemis let her fingers linger on the petals of one of the small little guardian flowers, just for a moment. She'd never been sure if her brother had noticed just how little control he actually had over hyacinths, for a flower that was supposedly 'his.' She suspected Demeter and Persephone knew, if anyone. But neither goddess had deigned to talk of such matters with Artemis. Perhaps for the best, Artemis wasn't really sure what she would've said if they had tried to bring the subject up. There's a very good chance she wouldn't tried to shoot one of them and then escape while they were distracted. Emotions weren't her forte. She was grown enough to admit it. 

@tsarinatorment

The Older Twin

Apollo could lie all he wanted, Artemis was the older one. She’d never felt that as keenly as she did now. Day 26: Missing You

Third Strike

Zeus loved Apollo, once. His favourite son, his golden child. His greatest threat. Day 19: And So The Sun Sets

Ancient Greece

A Sun's Forgiveness by @hazardous-lightdas12

“Mortals die Artemis,” Apollo whispers. “Their lives will forever wax and wane. Like the moon. The ebb and flow of Uncle Poseidon’s waves. But us. We are eternal. You must remember that.” Her brother sounds like he has said the words to himself too many times. – Apollo does not scream when the lightning bolt strikes him. -- Alt Summary: Fathers make mistakes sometimes. Hippolytus’ father has made the teensy, easily understandable and forgivable mistake of beheading his son due to unproven and untrue allegations. Artemis grieves. Apollo tries to make everything all better, and somehow ends up making everything worse. . Zeus is so good at daddying! Admetus worries about the logistics of cow-herding

Of ravens and songbirds by Cassiethewriter

The godling whimpered and fought, and Python refused to let the hiss of frustration fall out. “Quite understandable, too.” He said, coils growing tighter and making the godling cough again. “Poor fair Leto being hunted by the issued Hera, the Queen of Olympus and the only child raised by Rhea. You heard of Leto’s suffering from day one, and sought to bring justice to it. Very brave and god-like.” Python snorted again. “But I’m afraid this is where you myths start— and end. Right here, right now. Like a moth to the sun.” Or, The battle with Python.

Phoenixrising007

Party On Olympus (gone wrong)

Mother’s hand was holding onto him firmly. Probably to stop Hermes from running down the hall and around the finely carved pillars decorating the sides of the palace. Despite the fact that if he were a mortal he would not even be walking yet, he already got himself into trouble recently.

Puppies (and why they can fix anything)

"Aww look at the puppy!” He raced forward, voice an octave higher than usual. As is normal when speaking to such an adorable creature.

Apollo & His Lovers

Naomi Solace

thinking about it, had a breakthrough by @thesungod

“I’m Naomi Solace!” “Okay?” “The singer?” Fred shakes his head, a smug smile on his lips. “Never heard of you.” “As Long As The Sun Shines? It was number 1 on the billboard for like, a month!” Hating herself, she starts mouthing the melody. There’s no way this asshole doesn’t know her stupid song. Naomi Solace meets an arrogant, young producer that she really wants to kick in the balls. Unfortunately, he seems to know what he’s doing.

Solar Powered by @curseofdelos (:D Glad to see you reblogged this hehe here's a tag :3)

Apollo, god of music, was how he had introduced himself. Naomi had assumed he was joking, and he didn't correct her. She had dated musicians and poets before. They all had an ego, and those same words would not have felt out of place from either of her exes. She merely downgraded Apollo from potential boyfriend to potential fling, and didn't think twice about it. Now though…. Now her son could heal wounds with a single touch, and her world was tipping on its axis.

Daphne

Plaything of the Gods - Daphne's Story by @the-primordial-archivist

When Apollo finally decided to wear a crown, it was her leaves that topped his head. But it wasn’t just he who wore her branches. Winners had her leaves on them too. Laurels. The symbol of victory.

Hyacinthus

You make a fool of death with your beauty (and for a moment, I forgot to worry) by @ukelele-boy

Sometimes as a god you lose track of time. With all his prophetic powers, Apollo never saw it coming.

His Flowers byshotar1s

Meg notices her servant, Apollo, is quieter than usual. Oh, the flowers in his hands explain why.

Frey

I Woo The Asgardian Hipster God by ladanse

"Another time, in a Stockholm tavern, I met this god who was smoking hot, except his talking sword just would not shut up." -The Hidden Oracle, Rick Riordan

(sidenote: WE NEED MORE FREYPOLLO)

REVOLUTION

Conversations (regarding a certain half-brother) by Phoenixrising007

Walking out of the council meeting Ares did his best to make sense of what just happened. Apollo was there. Back just like Athena said he would be. She won the blasted bet. Again.

@tsarinatorment

The Sun

Apollo plays the role of an idiot well enough that often, it’s forgotten that he’s one of the most powerful gods - and one of the most wrathful. #140: Setting Heaven on Fire

Seven Days and Seven Nights

A warning, a storm, and Will’s world gets flipped upside-down. Day 11: Storming

MultiChaps

Secrets of the Sun by @sierice and beta'd by @ukelele-boy

“No, that kid is too similar to me… way too similar... Almost like he’s…” Apollo’s eyes widened. “Like he’s you from the future?” Persephone finished. Dionysus asked incredulously, “You don’t seriously think that right? There’s no way you would ever dare to look like that!” --------------------------  This is literally just a Trials of Apollo reading the books fic. Hope you enjoy!

time eats all his children by IzzyMRDB

There is something sickly in the passage of time. Time is a rot. A disease or a plague, a festering in your very being that blurs the past until it is tainted with the present. Until the present is tainted with the future. The Greeks were well aware of this sickness, for all their depictions of time, while divine, were also rotted. AKA Apollo is the god least touched by the passage of time, yet the one most affected by it. There's so much of the present that he could change. AKA Time Travel with Post-TOA Apollo

Flowers For Apollo by @soleil-in-retrograde

As far as Lester Papadopoulos was concerned, he was seventeen years old and lived at home with his elderly mother just outside of Tampa. He had a(n older? younger? twin?) sister who visited regularly and a baby sister(?) in California who called him her dummy and would help out with his mother's garden when she visited and he was teaching piano to. He also had a myriad of cousins who went to a camp up north he wrote constantly. He didn't know what he wanted to do with the life stretching in front of him. ----- The God Apollo has a bad habit of not telling people when something is wrong. It doesn't help he doesn't quite remember until it's too late. It's not his fault.

Over The Palisade by @aeithalian

This was an old dream. He’d had it many times before. Jerry, standing before the Roman Senate.  Mars, waving his hand. A lyre, appearing on Jerry’s arm.  Jerry’s prophecy: “Crowns will fall to ash.”  Jupiter, standing between the new augur and a towering statue of himself.  Apollo, standing between his father and his son.  Olympus, Apollo on his knees, trembling, electricity jumping over his arms. A stranger’s face, dark and stony. He says something, but the words are quiet.  The doors of the Palace of the Sun. Chained shut.  Or: Apollo has been missing for two and a half years, and there may or may not be an impending apocalypse.

Sunrise by IcyDreams_and_FieryWishes

At 10,000 years of age, Apollo falls to Chaos. With the last of his strength, he sends his memories through the fabric of Space-Time. At 1 day of age, Apollo refuses to let the story be the same as last time. Vi Va La Revolution. SkyFall: Season 1, Arc 1- The Rising Sun. In which Apollo lives through his early life, forming alliances and rewriting mythological history while striving to keep his siblings and family safe from threats outside and within their home. Will he succeed? Or will Fate prevail once more? One thing is for sure, Apollo remembers. And he will take his vengeance.

@tsarinatorment

THE MUST-READ Eclipse!!!!!!

According to the prophecy, Will has to go to on a quest to Tartarus. According to Apollo, that isn’t going to happen, even if it means he has to break the Ancient Laws.

The Stolen God is a ToA/MCatGoA crossover!

Python is defeated. The prophecies are restored, and Nero has fallen. Apollo has not been seen since. His trials are over; why isn’t he back on Olympus?

@flightfoot

Memories of Godly Selfishness

Chapter 1: Apollo and Meg watch Apollo's interactions with the demigods (and Grover) in Blood of Olympus and the Singer of Apollo. They don't like what they see. Chapter 2: Apollo, Meg, and Percy watch the fight with Otis and Ephialtes in Mark of Athena. Apollo gains new perspective on gods’ relationships with demigods. Chapter 3: Apollo, Meg, and Annabeth watch the final battle against Kronos and the aftermath, with a surprise guest later on. Chapter 4: Apollo and Meg watch “Welcome to Camp Half-Blood”. Apollo gives a long over-due apology. Chapter 5: Side Story - Satyr School: Apollo teaches some young satyrs. Chapter 6: Apollo, Meg, Thalia, and Will watch Thalia's and Luke's encounter with a certain son of Apollo.

A Convergence of Apollos

Percy had been hoping for a quiet afternoon celebrating Grover's birthday with him. Then Apollo arrived, and their peaceful afternoon got a lot less peaceful. It got even weirder when two kids popped out of thin air who both seemed to know him.

@falconfrost

Apollo & The Aftermath

The Roman emperors and Python have been defeated, the oracles reclaimed, and Apollo restored to godhood. He's having somewhat of a hard time adjusting to being back among the gods, which is understandable after his six-month grow-a-conscience speedrun. But something else is rotten in the state of Olympus, and before it can really feel like home, it's going to require some serious renovation.

The Tail of A Pollo

The hunt for the Teumessian Fox hasn't been going great, but thanks to a new prophecy (of sorts), it looks like Apollo may be key to aiding the Hunters of Artemis in the beast's defeat. In like, a super badass, heroic way, of course. Actually, on second thought, maybe just imagine the monster's defeat in your head. You definitely don't have to read this. I'm certain you get the gist of it already. You can simply exit this tab real quick, no biggie. Have a lovely day!

Bad Sons by @thesungod

Hades turned to the demigods that were still kneeling. “I need to speak with Will Solace,” he said to the shocked room, in the tone he could have used to say “I came to ask if one of you could lend me a pen.” “Alone,” the god added after a moment, staring right at Nico. Or, Will and Nico go on the stupidest quest ever. And it’s all Apollo’s fault.

Curioser

Fall of The Sun

Five times Apollo fainted and one time he didn't.

The Trials of Apollo: The Forgotten Acres

When their truck breaks down on the way to New York, Apollo and Meg get a few days of downtime in a refuge called the Forgotten Acres. While there, Apollo confronts a decision he's been putting off for weeks, and finds that it's one of the hardest choices he's ever had to make.

RavenWingDark

Kill The Sun

Even restored to godhood, Apollo still wants to be around his friends and mortal family, even at the risk of Zeus'...dissatisfaction. This is the four times Apollo got away with helping his demigods and the one time he didn't.

Mourning Sun changed my brain chemicals

Percy has the Chalice and all he has left to do is hand it over to Ganymede. Then he notices Ganymede might not be the only one being mistreated by Zeus. Apollo's at brunch, too.

Series

the grace of gods is a grace that comes by violence by @californiannostalgia

Were I That Burning Star, the first fic in the series, is an absolute Must Read imo

An old panic gripped me—the breathless fear of being forgotten, being lost. Would anyone remember me when I was gone? Would someone think to lay a flower down on my grave and say some fond nothings like, “Was a pretty cool guy, that Lester,” while wiping off a single dramatic tear rolling down their cheek? Oh, who was I kidding. So what if no one remembered? There wasn’t much I was proud to be remembered by anyway. After defeating Python and bringing down Nero, Phoebus Apollo reclaims his godhood. He is glorious once more. But for some reason, he can't quite make himself go back to how things were before. (A Character Study of Various Gods, including but not limited to: Apollo, Artemis, Hermes, Aphrodite, Ares, Athena, Hephaestus, Dionysus, and maybe Zeus)

Gods' Eye View by @flightfoot

Carefully, I picked out Apollo’s string. It glowed vibrantly, as the strings of all divine beings do. Mine most brilliantly of all, of course, though Apollo’s always seemed to be trying to outshine it. I firmly grasped hold of it, matching its own glow with my own. Slowly, I exerted my will, my power, pressing my radiance against the manifestation of Apollo’s, slowly increasing my light until it overpowered his. Yet, it resisted me, its glow strengthening, refusing to surrender. I grit my teeth. “I am Zeus, King of the Gods, and your father. Submit to me.” ----- Zeus tries to turn Apollo into a mortal. It does not go as well as he expected. That only incenses him further.

The Hidden Oracle+1 spin-offs by @garecc

Artemis falls to earth with Apollo in the hidden Oracle. Flames streamed off her body as she fell. Features sibling banter, protective Artemis, and far too many headcanons. ON AN INDEFINITE HAITUS.

rip hiatus😔

Memories of Dust and Gold by @moodyseal holds lots a variety of fics!

Companion Fics

The Healing Sun by ReadTheBooks. Companion to Eclipse

You are Asclepius. You are 9 and just want to help people. Your father is kind, and warm, and you love him dearly. Or, a look at a relationship hindered by loss but persevering through love. Asclepius and Apollo throughout the ages.

Other, But During ToA

A Single Drachma by @tsarinatorment, podfic by @stereden

Alone. Injured. Hunted. Michael doesn’t know where he is, but he knows he’s running out of time, and he’s only got one shot at calling for help. He’s got to make it count.

In Dreams by @m-arnie-xx

Zoe did not like Lord Apollo. He was too arrogant, too vain, and flirted with her and her fellow hunters incessantly. He always appeared in their camp at the most inconvenient times, offering archery tips that no one wanted and being a persistent source of annoyance to Lady Artemis near constantly. Zoe did not like Lord Apollo, but sometimes, when Zoe asked a Hunter how they knew something they couldn’t have possibly found out by themselves, and they told her about their dream, she would look up at the sun, and she would wonder… or Zoe did not get demigod dreams… until she did.

Hunger Games AUs

Bloody Eclipse by AmeliaAndreas3

The Sun Must Go On by @please-help-this-little-lesbian

The Golden Gates by SAM_42

Still The Mockingjay Won't Sing by SunnySky_11

The Copollo Masterlist - Collection of Ao3 & FF.net fics of Apollo & Commodus </3 Trainwreck beloved

And of you'd like, my fics:

The Works of Apollo - Canon Compliant Fics!

Alder's Mess of ToA AUs - AUs!

Adventures in (Grand)Parenting: Featuring Koios - My obsession with Koios spawned this!

The Crew of Dodona - Pirate AU! Random fic ideas written whenever the itch strikes!

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: The Houseguest.

Pairing: Yandere!Alhaitham x Reader x Yandere!Kaveh (Genshin).

Word Count: 2.2k.

TW: Unhealthy Relationships, Prolonged Imprisonment, Possessive Behavior, Obsessive Behavior, Implied N0nC0n, Implied Drug Use, and Troubling Implications.

[Part Two]

Kaveh first met you in the middle of the night, in a shadowed corner of Alhaitham’s kitchen.

He hadn’t noticed you, at first. It’d been closer to sunrise than sunset, and he was still rubbing his eyes as he dragged himself towards his roommate’s pantry, intent on raiding anything Alhaitham had to offer before collapsing back into bed, or more likely, onto a half-finished model of some wealthy’s scholar next personal research facility. He made it to the cabinet door before his exhaustion-dampened senses picked up on the sound of soft breathing, the feeling of a burning stare prying into the back of his neck.

He glanced over his shoulder, expecting to find nothing save for an empty room, but instead, he found you.

Standing in the kitchen’s entryway, clutching a clay mug in both hands, seemingly paralyzed with unfounded terror. Your lips were parted, but you didn’t say anything, and your eyes were so wide – blown out like a doe caught in an archer’s sight. For a second, he thought you might be an intruder, a thief sent after Alhaitham’s precious Akademiya secrets or the few scraps of mora Kaveh had to his name, but that wouldn’t have made sense. Wise thieves didn’t tend to break into the homes of their marks barefoot, nor were they usually dressed in strikingly familiar black poet’s shirts, just a little too big and a little too well-worn to have originally belonged to you.

No, you weren't a thief. His life would've been so much simpler, if you had only been a thief.

Eventually, he managed to regain his confidence, forcing an easy grin as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know Alhaitham had a…” He trailed off, looking over you one more time, noting the pallid state of your skin, the hollowness sewn deep into your cheeks. Your knees were locked together, as if you weren't sure you had the strength to remain standing, and it appeared as if someone with far too much confidence and far too little skill had attempted to take a comb to your tangled hair, only to lose their nerve less than halfway through. His lighthearted tone significantly more strained, he went on. “I didn’t know we had a houseguest.”

You continued to stare, unblinking. His smile faltered. “I apologize if I startled you. It’s just- I didn’t hear you come in, and I honestly didn’t think Alhaitham would be able to bring someone hope, let alone such a lovely specimen.”

Your voice was quiet, when you finally spoke, almost hoarse. As if you hadn’t used in a few days. “I… I’ve been here for a while.”

Oh.

Well.

He wasn’t quite sure what to make of that.

With nothing else to do, he laughed, closing the cabinet door. You didn’t move, but he let his shoulder press against the closest wall as he slid past you. He didn’t look back, but he offered a slight wave, calling out as he started towards his bedroom. “Goodnight, honored guest. May I be lucky enough to see you in the morning.”

It was barely audible, a breath above a whisper, but it was there, as clear as day in the dead silence of silence of Alhaitham’s flat.

“Goodnight.”

~

A week passed before he saw you again. He tried to brush off your brief interaction as that of a very tired man and a very startled guest, but the sound of your voice lingered in the back of his mind. He almost asked Alhaitham about it, but trying to pry information out of someone like him was a fool’s errand, and Kaveh opted to brew quietly rather than pursue a path he knew would only end in frustration.

He managed to put the encounter behind him completely. Or, rather, he almost managed to. He was so, so close to managing to.

Alhaitham was at his desk, his chair pushed back and turned partially towards the doorway where Kaveh stood. You were in front of him, on your knees and resting your cheek against the inside of Alhaitham’s thigh. In one of his hands, he grasped a quill, still scrawling away at whatever documents a scribe would feel the need to bring home, and with the other, he toyed with the fabric collar wrapped around your next, forest-green and tight enough to visibly cut into the skin of your throat. It matched the rest of your ensemble, if the scraps of silk and velvet dotted over your form could be called an ensemble. It did not escape Kaveh that, both times he had seen you, you had been dressed in Alhaitham’s colors, but he attempted to ignore the implications.

“Do you need something?” Alhaitham called, never looking away from his work. For as few boundaries as there were in their relationship, Kaveh rarely let himself into Alhaitham’s personal spaces unannounced, and he thought Alhaitham’s reaction would’ve been more… more. It wasn't as if he'd never lost his patience with Kaveh before.

He did need something, but he couldn’t seem to remember what it was. He couldn’t seem to tear his attention away from you, from the exposed skin of your plush thighs, the curve of your midriff. You appeared somewhat unlike you had been when he first saw you - healthier, more lively. The ghastliness had faded, and while you didn't seem much stronger, you were no longer struggling just to stay upright. He may have been relieved, if he'd known you a little better. If you hadn't been sitting at Alhaitham's feet.

Rather than demanding to know if Alhaitham would be attending Tighnari’s next open lecture on medicinal plants or what tragedy had befallen his favorite cast-iron pan, he found himself asking, “Who’s that?”

A small, uncharacteristic smile tugged at the corner of Alhaitham’s lips. He paused his work just long enough to turn towards Kaveh, his fingers slipping under your collar and drawing you upward. You seemed… unsteady, swaying as you staggered to your feet, but your legs didn’t have time to fail you. Wrapping an arm around your waist, Alhaitham pulled you onto his lap, perching you on his thigh like some pet songbird, trained to sit on its master’s shoulder. Your face was quickly buried in his chest, but that wasn’t enough to hide you from him. He was still able to see the dull flush that spread across your cheeks, the way your mouth never seemed to fully close.

There was something about your eyes, glossed over and shadowed, the color of your irises duller than it should’ve been. If Alhaitham felt anything was wrong, concern did not penetrate the mask of thick condescension he was never seen without. If anything, he’d only grown more smug, more eager to flaunt what he had and Kaveh did not. “Your other roommate. They moved in a few months before you did.”

Kaveh’s frown deepened. “There’s only two bedrooms.”

Alhaitham’s smile grew wider. “How observant.”

“If you’re going to lie, you should at least pay me the decency of coming up with something halfway plausible. I’ve been here for—” He scoffed, jerked his head to the side. “I would’ve known if there was some else staying here. Unless you kept them, I don’t know, locked in the cellar or something.”

There was a beat of silence. Alhaitham’s expression didn’t change, but you flinched, shrinking into his chest.

Kaveh felt something tighten in the back of his throat. “You didn’t.”

“Only for a while. Their behavior was getting out of hand – some time in a less stimulating environment was called for.” He shrugged, leaning back in his seat. “I’m not holding them hostage, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’re welcome to poke around for any chains and shackles you might think I have, if you’d like to. Or…” He trailed off, letting a hand fall to the tender gap between your shoulder blades. “Why don’t you tell Kaveh how much want to be here, dearest?”

It took you a long moment to stir, another to lift your head. You looked towards Alhaitham, visibly unsure, and he offered a slight nod, a palm pressed into your back. “I love you,” you managed, the words drawling together. You paused, blink slowly, then scrambled to correct yourself. “I mean, I love it. I want to be here. Is that what I’m supposed to say?”

“Word for word. You did very well, beloved.” There was no shame, no fear of scandle - just a squeeze to your side by way of reward. With more than a degree of relief written across your expression, you collapsed back onto Alhaitham, visibly exhausted by the exertion it took to speak. “See? I’m only trying to look after my ‘houseguest’, if that’s what you’re going to call them.”

There was no threat, no challenge, but that was part of what made Alhaitham such a frustrating man to deal with. He’d start a debate, and then act as if he had no interest in winning his opponent over, as if he was simply stating well-known truths of the world and never had any intention on sparking disagreement. Kaveh, while still far from immune, had grown a tolerance to the constant probing. Most days, he could walk away, turn his back to the conversation and vent his frustration to those who were similarly familiar with Alhaithaim’s innate unpleasantness, but this was something less frivolous than a dispute on the merits of ink versus charcoal as writing implements during field investigations. He wouldn’t be blamed for getting the matra involved. He wouldn’t be wrong for calling outside attention to the ongoings inside of their little flat.

And yet…

And yet, he could only seem to shy, to shake his head, as if he was only exasperated with the antics of his stoic roommate. Without another word, he stepped back and shut the door, admittedly with a little more force than he absolutely had to use. You weren’t hurt (although, there were several faded bruises blossoming along the curve of your neck that he would only remember later on, lying away in bed, staring at the ceiling as something began to burn under his skin), and you didn’t seem to actively be in danger, for whatever an architect’s instincts were worth on matters of life and death. Immediate action was unnecessary. It could wait a little longer, before he reported Alhaitham to the highest authority he could find.

He could wait a little longer, before he decided whether or not to give you away.

~

And he did wait. He waited days, then weeks, then longer – long enough for Alhaitham to grow less careful with you, to let you wander the flat freely when he was home and leave the door to his bedroom unlocked while he wasn’t. It didn’t take him much longer to grow less careful with Kaveh, either. He hadn’t heard you make a sound for months, but you seemed to be by his side constantly, now, your muffled voice slipping through the thin walls between Alhaitham’s bedroom and his own at all hours of the night. That was the most frustrating part, really, worse than Alhaitham’s condensation, worse than seeing you in greens and blacks and silvers. You were so close to him, and yet, he couldn’t seem to help you.

No matter what he tried, he just couldn’t seem to want to.

That frustration, that gnawing self-loathing might’ve been why he found himself at Alhaitham’s door, once again, much more hesitant than he had been last time. There was no reason to be. Alhaitham was out, tending to matters far, far outside of the city, and Kaveh knew he wouldn’t return until tomorrow morning. He’d take his time, if Kaveh was lucky.

He wouldn’t come back at all, if Kaveh was truly fortunate.

With a deep breath, he shut his eyes and turned the knob, shouldering open Alhaitham’s door before he could let his anxiety overtake him. His eyes landed on you immediately, despite his efforts to ease himself into your company. You were lying on the center of Alhaitham’s bed, on your back, your knees bent and your head spilling over the foot of the mattress. There was a book at your side, but you weren’t reading. Your attention was focused solely on a small window built into the opposing wall, the view little more than the bare brick wall of another building and a few stray tree branches, surprisingly barren considering the seasons. It wasn't much, but he could imagine it was better than what the cramped, unlit cellar had to offer - should he choose to take Alhaitham's implications at face value.

Your eyes flickered towards him as he stepped through the doorway, as he moved to approach you, but any panic you might’ve felt was muted, not so much suppressed as it was trained out of you. It reminded him of a stone house built in the heart of the desert and left without the proper means to defend itself, reduced to scrap by a constant barrage of wind and sand. The comparison made the architect within him ache while the artist continued to purr.

You opened your mouth, but it took you a moment to find what you wanted to say. You were clearly more lucid than the last time you’d crossed paths, but there was still something weighing you down, a bleariness to your gaze, a lull to your words that didn’t seem completely conscious. “You’re Kaveh, right?”

His name rolled off of your lips like rose petals and red wine and bitter chocolate. He had to force himself to swallow, to smile. To soften himself in a way Alhaitham had never cared enough to try to.

“Right.” He positioned himself on the edge of Alhaitham’s bed, just a little less than arm’s length away from you. He took a deep breath, steeling himself, then with no small amount of care, laid his hand over yours, tightening his hold when you tried to pull away.

 “I don’t think we’ve really had a chance to talk.”

[revasserium]

LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT WITH OMI OMI PLSSSSSS I LOVE YOU

@swaggerpear replied to your post “at first sight ft. kageyama, daichi, sugawara,...”:

BOKUTOOO PLEASEEE

at first sight, pt 2

ft. sakusa, bokuto, iwaizumi, oikawa

sakusa.

the first time he sees you, he knows you’re the one. he breathes easier, the air sitting better, sitting sweeter in his lungs — the persistent itch beneath his skin fades to a dull buzz, and when you turn your eyes onto him amidst the flash of cameras and the clamor of reporters, the whole world goes silent. when was the last time that’s happened for him? he can’t remember. you smile, and world is beautiful, irresistible white noise. he smiles back. later, when he manages to find you in the swell of people clamoring to interview him, he asks if you’re new to this — he hasn’t seen you on the press circuit before, and you tell him that you are. that once, you’d dreamed of taking pictures of beautiful things; he cocks his head and smirks, his mask for once pulled down to his chin — the words are out of his mouth before he can stop himself, “so you must be glad you found me, then.” he doesn’t have time to feel mortified because then, you’re laughing, the sound trickling over his skin like rose water, like piano music, and he shivers beneath it’s touch. you nod, blushing, the color so darling against your cheeks he want to lean in and kiss you. he does do that — but not till much later, and when he does, he finds you smiling. he finds that he likes the taste of your smile, too. and that of all the things he’d thought about kissing before now — of how unsanitary it might be, of how awkward, he finds that he really doesn’t mind because, well… it’s you.

bokuto.

the first time he sees you, he know you’re the one. he knows with the certainty of a rising sun. he knows like the receding tide, like the changing of seasons — he knows with the self-assuredness of weathermen forecasting the coming of monsoon season, just along the coast, where the beaches are wide and the sands are hot. he knows, he knows, he knows. he chases down the entire length of corridor at the sports clinic, trips over his own feet, faceplants before picking himself up, asks for your name, your number, what you’re specializing in, feels his stomach leap out of his mouth when you tell him that it’s sports medicine, can’t help but notice the way you’re blushing, the pink kissing across the tops of your cheeks the way he wishes he could. and he does — about a week and a half later, cupping your face in his rough-hewn hands, all thick skin and calluses from spike-practice, but you trace them over with your soft fingers later and tell him that you love them — love the way they feel against your skin, love the stories they tell, the strength they hold, the hours and hours of determination they are a mark of. three weeks in, he tells akaashi he thinks he’s going to marry you. three months in, he pops the question. you’re laughing and crying, both, when you say yes. later, he’d proudly brag to all his teammates that he’d caught an angel in the palms of his hands, brag that it took less than a second for him to literally fall for you, because hey, it must’ve hurt for you to fall from heaven, so he should have to hurt a little too.

iwaizumi.

the first time he sees you, he’s sure he’s misunderstood — surely the universe could not have been conspiring the way it did, surely manifest destiny would not play out the way he thought, the statistics line up the numbers just so. surely — it can’t be this perfect. but it can — so he learns, when he bumps into you again, in another country no less, so far from the confines of a japanese seven-eleven, all the way across the world in argentina, where he’s supposed to be meeting up with oikawa but the jerk is late and now he’s here, his eyes caught in yours in this coffee shop not three blocks away from the olympic training stadium. you both try to ask for each others names, and then, you both fall into awkward, knowing laughter. because if it’s not destiny, he doesn’t know what it is. if it’s not fate, then you don’t know what to call it — what are the chances of two people running into each other time and time again, halfway around the entire world? he asks you out for dinner, and you don’t say no. oikawa teases him mercilessly about it later, but he doesn’t care. he never fancied himself someone to be lovesick, but when oikawa floats out the term, he doesn’t negate him. it’s a slow-going thing, but iwaizumi finds that he doesn’t mind — he likes taking his time with you, knows implicitly that he has all the time in the world — because if you’d found each other across the entire world, then what’s there to be afraid of? what more is there to worry about? you have all the time in the world — after all, isn’t that what it means to be meant to each other?

oikawa.

the first time he sees you, he does double take, and then a triple take. and later, he’d do anything to claim that it was you who chased after him, but those closest to him all know the truth — that he’d run down four flights of stairs and searched through the entire olympic arena to find you, mulling over musubi of all things — him, breathless and panting, and really, really wondering what the hell he as doing. he’s got a game later, but — well, he couldn’t really help himself. call him a skirt chaser, call him a womanizer, call him the playboy to end all playboys, but oikawa tooru has always known what he wanted. and he knew, in the blink of an eye, that he wanted you. so he’d chased after you, he’d found you, he’d turned up his charm and ramped up his smolder and you… well, you’d shaken your head and brushed him off. it’d stung, of course it had. he’d been inconsolable for weeks, but after he found out that you’re related to the famous sportscaster, he finds himself rejuvenated. he tells your dad that he’s in love with you before he ever asks you out on a date. years later, long after he’d managed to convince you out for one date, which turned into two, and then five, and then ten, and then… who’s keeping count any more, right? he stands across from you with your hands in his and tears in his eyes, he tells you — he says, y’know… the first time i saw you, in that crowd, i knew you were the one for me.

requests are open :)

[life-at-hogwarts]

In the shadow of the relic (Ominis X GN!reader)

Pairing: Ominis x GN!reader

Warning: fix it fic, angst

Wordcount: 3.7k

Summary: When Sebastian's obsession with dark magic spirals out of control Ominis and you have to find your way back together to save your best friend.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Sebastian stuttered and stumbled back, looking at his hands as if they did not belong to his body.

“It’s okay,” you croaked, “You didn’t mean to.”

“What have I done?” he murmured to himself, still in shock, and stormed out of the catacomb. Ominis didn’t move, he just kept holding you, but you pulled back. It took all your strength to peel yourself from the warmth of his embrace, but you knew what you needed to do. “Go after him. He needs you.”

AO3 Chapter 1-7

------

Not seeing Ominis also meant that you saw Sebastian less frequent than before. He had to stand with his best friend, and you understood that you had imposed on him an impossible situation. It had been weeks since you ended things with Ominis when you received an owl from Sebastian asking you to meet up in the Three Broomsticks. He was already waiting when you entered the pub, staring at the half empty glass of butterbeer in front of him. When he spotted you, he gave you a weak little wave and a crooked half-smile. He looked wrecked, his hair was disheveled, and he had dark circles under his eyes. Normally you would ask him what was going on but right now there was a question burning on your tongue like hot coals.

“How is he?”

“Bad. He hasn’t left his bed for weeks, he refuses to eat, bathe and talk to me,” Sebastian sighed and ran a hand through his thick locks. His answer hit you like a knife in the heart. You’d seen Ominis only a few times in classes and he had seemed fine enough, all things considered. Of course, you’d known he would be heartbroken - you were too – but hearing from Sebastian how hard he was taking this you couldn’t help but feel guilty. You had spent the past few weeks trying not to think about what had happened, distracting yourself pretty much every minute of every day and being confronted with it brought back the pain you had so desperately been trying to avoid.

“I did the right thing, didn’t I? This is better than whatever his father would have done to him?”

“I’m not so sure anymore. I can’t stand seeing him in so much pain. It seems like all the people I love suffer,” Sebastian sighed and rubbed his face in exasperation. He seemed tired in a way that 100 years of sleep couldn’t fix and you wished there was something you could do to help your friend.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to … I just didn’t know what to do.”

“I know. It’s not your fault. I know you’re hurting too. That’s what I mean – everyone I love is in pain right now and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“How is the search of the cure going?” you asked, desperate to change the subject.

Sebastian’s face lightened up at this question and he shot up from his hunched position, straightening his back. “I found something in Slytherin’s spellbook that looked promising. It’s some sort of relic but I don’t yet understand fully how it works.” You remembered Ominis’ warning about how everything to do with Slytherin seemed promising until it was too late and tried to think of a way to instill caution into your friend. It was a balancing act, being supportive yet also trying to be the voice of reason.

“What kind of relic are we talking about? Are you sure it can be used to help Anne?”

“Of course I can’t be sure. But if there is even the slightest possibility I have to try. It’s my sister’s life we’re talking about,” he replied, seemingly annoyed by this concern.

“What does Anne have to say to this? Have you talked to her about it?” you tried again, fully aware that Anne, would definitely be against using dark relics of any kind.

“I don’t want to get her hopes up at this stage. I don’t know enough about this relic yet. Will you help me find it?”

“Do you know where it is?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. It’s supposed to be in a catacomb near Feldcroft. I was planning to go there later this evening. Will you come with me?” This took you by surprise. Until now it had been purely theoretical, and it had been fun to speculate what one could do to save Anne but this felt dangerous. Yet knowing Sebastian you knew that there was nothing you could do to stop him, so that left you with only one choice.

“Can’t very well let you go into a catacomb in the middle of the night to search for a dark arts relic alone, can I?” you sighed and emptied your drink.

“Perfect. Let’s go.”

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

“Ominis would be livid if he knew what we were doing,” Sebastian remarked when the two of you were just about to enter the catacomb. This made you feel even worse about the situation. You had promised Ominis to keep an eye on Sebastian and make sure he did not pursue the dark arts any further yet here you were helping him to find some mysterious relic which was capable of Merlin knows what. It was a terrible idea. But Sebastian was convinced this would help Anne and nothing you said or did would stop him from looking for that damned thing. You suppressed another sigh and followed your friend into the catacomb.

The place was crawling with spiders, and it took the two of you some time to fight your way into the heart of the catacomb. By the time you reached the last room you were out of breath and covered in blood and even Sebastian seemed frustrated. “Dead end. Lovely. All that for nothing,” he growled and wiped a sweaty lock from his forehead. You had made your way to the back of the room and were taking a look at a stone altar when you stumbled upon a weird looking object.

“Hold on. I think I found something.”

Sebastian rushed to your side and immediately picked up the object, that seemed to be made out of human bone and depicted several skeletons that formed some sort of pyramid. You on the other hand began to read the notes that you had found right next to the relic. “I can’t believe it. After all this it lines up. We’ve really found it!” your friend exclaimed.

 As much as you wanted to be excited for him something about this felt very wrong. “What do you suppose is meant by ‘the dark sacrifice required to realize the relic’s potential’?”

“ I have no idea. But we’re here for the relic.”

“I don’t know, Sebastian. I have a bad feeling about this. Maybe we should leave it here.”

“Are you mad? After all we’ve been through to get it? This could be the key to saving Anne! I’m taking it,” Sebastian spat and marched towards the exit only to be held back by Ominis.

The tall blonde blocked the exit and didn’t say a word, yet his face said enough. He was not, as Sebastian had assumed, livid, but seemed to be disappointed and exhausted. You immediately started to feel guilty for not having tried to stop Sebastian from this dangerous endeavor.

“Ominis! The sounds we kept hearing – it was you!”

“You gave me no choice. I had to follow you. Sebastian please. Leave the relic alone. We can find another way to help Anne,” Ominis pleaded, his voice heavy with exasperation.

“I’m sorry, Ominis, but I’m taking it.”

“No, you’re not. If you don’t put it back, then I will.” Both of them readied their wands, seemingly about to fight each other and you knew you had to step in.

“Hold on, both of you.”

Ominis flinched at the sound of your voice. It was the first time you had talked to him since you had broken his heart. You stepped between the two of them and gave Sebastian a meaningful look and he took a few steps back to give you your privacy. “Ominis,” you whispered and had to suppress the urge to touch his arm. How you longed to take his hand right now, feel his warm skin against yours and forget about that mess you’d gotten yourself into.

“We need to stop him,” Ominis declared, his grey gaze fixated on you.

“I’m afraid we cannot. He has made up his mind.”

“What do you suggest we do then?”

“We let him have it. He will take it anyway so let’s negotiate with him. He can take it, but after this no more.” You knew this was not exactly a great suggestion, but you had to keep them from fighting. There was no way Sebastian would leave the relic behind, even if he had to sacrifice his friendship for it. For a moment your mind wandered back to the warning about the dark sacrifice that had to be made in order to access the relic’s power and you shuddered.

“I already lost my family to dark magic. I cannot lose my best friend too.” Ominis voice brought you back to reality.

“You won’t. We will keep an eye on him,” you assured him, but even as you said it you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were making a mistake.

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

When you received an owl from Ominis a few weeks later, asking you to come as quickly as possible you didn’t waste a second and immediately apparated to the entrance of the Feldcroft catacombs. You knew it had to be something seriously bad or he wouldn’t have asked for your help.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said flatly, his face remaining completely emotionless.

“Where is Sebastian?”

“Inside the catacomb. Frankly I was surprised you weren’t with him.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I didn’t…,” you began but Ominis interrupted you.

“Stop. You swore you wouldn’t let Sebastian take this one step further yet here we are. Then again, I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not the first promise you broke,” he spat, his voice so full of anger you took a step back.

“I…,” you tried again but couldn't think of anything to say. You knew he was right. He had warned you multiple times about the dangers of dark magic and you had ignored it. Even though he hadn’t told you what Sebastian was doing inside that catacomb you could guess it was bad.

“You’re to blame for this. You enabled his behavior. I put my trust in you and you let me down – again.” The tone of his voice sent shivers down your spine. He was more than just angry, he was furious. You had never seen him like this before, not even when he had discovered that Sebastian had shown you the Undercroft.

“Ominis if this is about us….”

“Don’t. You hurt me more than my family ever could. I let you in, I trusted you and you betrayed my trust. All I want is for you to help me save Sebastian from himself.” With that he turned around and entered the catacomb.

Inside you were immediately attacked by a horde of Inferi and had your fight your way forward. You instinctively tried to stay close to Ominis, making sure no Inferi came too close. Even though he was an excellent and feared duelist, fighting so many enemies at once was something different all together. There was no need to talk, the two of you seemed to sense when the other was about to move and instinctively react to cover each other’s back. Sweat trickled down your forehead when you finally reached the great room where you found Sebastian, surrounded by more Inferi.

“Sebastian!” Ominis cried out and stormed towards his friend with you following right behind.

“Isn’t this incredible? I told you the relic is the answer! I’ve been to reverse the magic that injured Anne but this allows me to control it – just as I can control the Inferi.”

All color had drained from Ominis’ face. “Listen to yourself, Sebastian! This is the dark magic speaking.”

“Ominis is right,” you chimed in, “this has gone too far.”

Sebastian’s eyes darkened and he made a step back, clutching the relic even tighter. “So the two of you are talking again?” he growled not even trying to conceal his contempt. It was clear that he felt backed into a corner by the two of you and reasoning with him right now would be hard. Still you knew you had to try, not just for him but for Ominis too. He had already lost so much, he couldn’t lose Sebastian too. Since Ominis was usually quite rough you tried a gentle approach.

“We’re worried about you, Sebastian. I’m sorry we were so wrapped up in our own problems that we didn’t see how much you were struggling.”

“I don’t need your pity. I have made up my mind.”

“This is the dark magic speaking, Sebastian. Anne doesn’t want this.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do. You have been lying for weeks, made me lie to my best friend,” the dark Slytherin hissed.

“What is he talking about?” Ominis asked, alarmed.

“That’s not important right now. Now give me that damned relic!” you practically shouted, finally losing your composure. It was quite transparent what Sebastian had been trying to achieve with this. He wanted you to fight with each other instead of him but you weren’t having any of it. You took a step towards him, reaching for the relic, ready to pry it from his hand when he bellowed “Diffindo.” Time seemed to stand still for a moment when the spell hit you and you stumbled back, blood trickling down your arm. The silence was deafening. After the initial shock you slowly approached your friend again, this time with hands raised to signal you were not out to fight.

“Sebastian. You don’t want to harm me. I’m your friend.“

When Sebastian didn’t react Ominis took initiative and yelled “Accio relic,” ripping the object right out of his best friend’s hands. Then everything happened fast. Sebastian lurched forward to attack Ominis and without realizing it you threw yourself at the brunette, slapping the wand out of his hand. As you watched it fall to the floor, your friend grabbed your throat with both hands and started to choke you. You didn’t fight back. In the corner of your eye you could see Ominis destroying the relic, then your vision got blurry and you closed your eyes. All of a sudden, the grip on your throat vanished and you fell to the floor, gasping for air. Ominis rushed to your side and gently touched your face. Still dizzy from the lack of oxygen you collapse into his embrace and take a few deep breaths.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Sebastian stuttered and stumbled back, looking at his hands as if they did not belong to his body.

“It’s okay,” you croaked, “You didn’t mean to.”

“What have I done?” he murmured to himself, still in shock, and stormed out of the catacomb. Ominis didn’t move, he just kept holding you, but you pulled back. It took all your strength to peel yourself from the warmth of his embrace, but you knew what you needed to do. “Go after him. He needs you.” He hesitated for a moment, unsure whether or not to listen to you but you kept pushing him, “I’m fine, really. Go.” Finally, he got up and chased after his best friend, leaving you alone on the floor of the catacomb. You remained there for some time and tried to gain your composure after everything that had just happened, taking a few deep breaths before getting up and making your way out of the catacomb. On your way out you bumped into Anne and Solomon, and you knew you had to think quick on your feet to avert another disaster.

“What happened? Where is Sebastian?” Solomon bellowed and you wondered what exactly Anne had told her uncle.

“Don’t know,” you whispered, your voice still hoarse and raw.

“Did he do this to you?” Anne inquired.

You shook your head and gestured towards the burnt remains of the Undead. “Inferi.”

“Alright this needs to be looked at. Let’s get you home,” Solomon sighed, and you were glad they didn’t ask any more questions for now. This gave you more time to think of a believable story to tell them. No one talked on the way back to Feldcroft, you just walked next to each other in silence. You thought about Sebastian and hoped Ominis had found him by now and was able to calm him down. He had looked so lost and terrified when he realized what he had done. It was not his fault; it was the dark magic that had made him attack you and you knew it and did not take it personal, in fact, you were more worried about what it had done to him.

You followed the Sallows to their home where Solomon prepared a concoction for your wounds. The ointment felt nice and cold on your skin, and you could practically feel the dark bruises and the cuts on your arm heal within minutes. As soon as Solomon saw that you were better he started to question you. “You have to tell us what happened eventually.”

“Sebastian saved my life,” you lied.

“Anne told me about some sort of relic?”

“He destroyed it. It’s gone.” At least the last part was true - the relic was destroyed. You had just rearranged some of the facts. Solomon gave you a long probing look, trying to determine whether or not to believe you.

“If you are lying, so help me Merlin…” he growled.

“I’m not. Sebastian destroyed the relic and saved my life.” You held his gaze until he finally stopped giving you that distrustful look. You could tell he still was not entirely convinced by your story and tried to brace yourself for more questions. To your surprise it wasn’t Solomon who continued the interrogation but Anne. “Where is he then? Why did he leave you behind, wounded and vulnerable?”

“Ominis was not feeling well. I told him to go after him.” Anne took after her uncle, not taking your eyes off you while she was considering your answer. It was hard to tell what she was thinking but at least she stopped asking questions.

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

When you returned to Hogwarts you immediately made your way to the Undercroft where you waited for Ominis and Sebastian. It didn’t take long, and they came bursting through the secret entrance, both looking tired and exhausted. Sebastian still seemed shaken up when he came over to you and started to apologize straight away. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what got into me. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine Sebastian, really. It wasn’t that serious, and your uncle is an excellent healer.” You pointed at your arm and throat which where completely healed and hoped this would calm Sebastian down a little, seeing that he did not seriously hurt you.

Sebastian flinched when you mentioned Solomon and tentatively asked, “What did you tell him, my uncle?”

“I technically didn’t lie, I just rearranged some of the facts. Inferi attacked me but you saved me and destroyed the relic. Ominis was upset so you went after him.”

“And he believed you?”

“Looked like it. Anne seemed a bit suspicious, but she didn’t say anything.” You looked over to Ominis waiting for him to scold you for lying to Sebastian’s family, but he stayed quiet.

“Thank you. Both of you. I should talk to Anne. I’ll be back when I can,” Sebastian said and stormed out of the Undercroft leaving the two of you alone. As soon as the door shut after him Ominis rushed over and threw his arms around you, burying his face in your neck and exhaled shakily.

“Thank Merlin you are alright. I was worried sick! Leaving you behind like this was the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” he sighed while gently running his fingers over your face, then letting them wander down your body and to see for himself that you were fine. You let him, enjoying the warmth of his touch and replied softly, “Sometimes we have to make hard decisions to protect the ones we love.” Ominis stopped what he was doing and abruptly pulled away. You wanted nothing more than him to continue but you knew the moment was gone.

“Is that what you did?”

“Ominis…”

“My family threatened you, didn’t they?”

The silence was deafening. You didn’t dare to look him in the eyes and instead focused on your feet. Ominis took a step towards you, then another until he was mere inches away and you could smell the sweet scent of his hair. He lifted your chin up with his hand and forced you to look at him.

“He threatened to hurt you. I’m sorry, I know you warned me. But your father is so terrifying. I couldn’t risk it,” you blurted out, tears running down your cheeks. Ominis softly wiped them away with his thumb before once more pulling you into his embrace. “I’m so sorry,” you kept sobbing into his shoulder, unable to stop crying as the events of the past weeks came crashing down on you.

“It’s alright, darling. I should have known. I should have known you wouldn’t do this to me. I’m sorry that you had to go through this. My father is a dangerous man.”

“What are we going to do now? I’m scared, Ominis. I don’t want him to hurt you. He said he would take you away from Hogwarts and have you locked up somewhere. „You studied Ominis’ face, but he did not seem surprised at all which left you wondering if this was not the first time he had threatened to do this. His milky gaze was fixated on your face and he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

 “Let us worry about this another day. You look like you are about to collapse, and I could use some sleep as well. Tomorrow we can worry about the future, but for now let’s sleep.”

“What if I don’t want to sleep alone tonight?” you asked softly, your lips almost touching his ear. Ominis trembled when your breath caressed his skin and tilted his head until his lips were inches away from yours. “Promise me that now we shall never be parted,” he whispered with a hint of desperation in his voice. He wanted you. You wanted him. And for now this was enough.

[ateez-himari]

Hi bb I hope you are doing well! I'm hoping that you are resting, cause I know it's a busy week💓

I had some questionssss and I remembered the question I forgot in my last ask

1.are there any younger female idols who have expressed their admiration towards hima?

2. Since hima is short and mingi is BIG how large is their size difference in perspective?

3. I was wondering if hima wore a swimsuit top during the water bomb festivals and did she have any iconic moments from that festival?

4.is there any other brand that hima is a solo ambassador for other than versace?

5.if you had to describe hima's personality as another idol who would this idol be?

6.Have the ateez members ever been annoyed by the completely innocent sounds mingri let out? And have they called them out for that?

Ily bb take care of yourself mwahh 💓💓

Hi sweet! 🥰 Sorry this took so long I was on a bit of a writer's block 🤧 I'm also unfortunately still sick but I actually have a lot of motivation to write now! Again don't feel bad about sending me so many asks, seeing a notification next to my inbox is one of the best parts of my day

• XG members have been quite vocal about their admiration towards their senior due to her incredible range - from heart wrenching ballads to powerful raps - and have actually met her several times during award shows (only to gush about it later)

BABYMONSTER members have met Himari while they were still trainees and were amazed at the fact that YG Entertainment brought her in as the only mentor due to her ability to take care of every aspect of their training; vocals, rap & dance. To this day they continue to develop in part by watching videos of her

IVE's Wonyoung looks up to the vocalist's strength of character, even more so now that she has begun speaking out about the unfairness of this industry, the mental health challenges, the mistreatment, etc. The vocalist has also worked extremely hard to master many aspects of performance, which serves as an inspiration to her

• Height comparison websites have her barely coming up to the crook of Mingi's neck, however something else makes their size difference so impressive because this man is WIDE while Himari doesn't have much muscle mass. If Mingi wanted to wrap around her waist completely, he would need little less than 1 hand and a half

• Hima wore the black 'Greca Border Bikini Top' from Versace, a cropped white long sleeve shirt (which quickly became soaked) and very low waisted pants with the 'Greca Border Bikini Bottoms' showing

While Jongho was being all cute and watering their little Atiny plants, this absolute menace was body rolling just a few steps away and motioning for their fans to throw more water at her (think Mingi...but female version)

This event was also one of the first times that the couple was seen being somewhat intimate with each other since she came over to her boyfriend, pressed her back to his chest and began to dance on him (more like grinding-)

After drinking from one of the plastic water bottles - which looked more like a whole kiss than a simple sip - she teased one of the fans in the front before motioning her forward and carefully dripping some water onto her head

A sensual 'The Real' dance break...that's all I can say, she even had a fake lip piercing for this performance and it was the first time Atiny got a glimpse of the spine tattoo (the tape put over it slipped slightly because it got too wet)

• There was actually a brand that recently lost any possibility of an ambassadorship (you'll find out soon dw). Calvin Klein is slowly attempting to reel her in. Surprisingly enough she's an ambassador for Porsche, Saint Laurent and Cartier

• Jimin! At first Hima was very similar to Yeosang in the sense that she was shy, wouldn't speak as much, and was somewhat naive (still is) but as she opened up more her personality grew to almost mirror Jimin's

• They deeply respect their members so when they're intimate with one another they make sure that most if not all members are out or somewhere unlikely to hear them (in part why they got the airbnb during the group's break). There's been very few instances when they were heard (usually in the changing rooms after concerts) but since it rarely happens no one has called them out on it

Ily too!! I hope your post exam break is relaxing and that you're taking care of yourself, mwahhh!! 😘❤️

[c0eu4]

OP81 | Giving birth ☁︎

Summary: Oscar does his best after Y/n gives birth.

Warning: Y/n pregnant, y/n giving birth, a bit of fluff

A/N: I want him so bad to have babies with Lily 😔 not my fav but I wanted to do something for introducing Olivia's birth.

MASTERLIST requests are open

She squeezes his hand as if her life depended on it. He continues to whisper words of encouragement to her, stroking her hair, damp from all the sweat.

''You're doing so great !'' His hand is white from how she squeezed it, her voice broken from her cries of pain.

''One final push!'' Tell the nurse, encouraging her to continue. Y/n begins to despair. She no longer has any strength and her whole body hurts. She shakes her head.

''I can't! I can't.'' She cries, as she tries to keep pushing her daughter out of her.

''No! Don't say that y/n! She's almost there! Keep pushing my love! You're so strong!'' She squeezes Oscar's hand one last time with all her strength and pushes like she never thought she would have to do.

Then after that, everything becomes blurry. She vaguely hears her daughter's first cries, Oscar speaking to her once again.

Her whole body hurts and she has trouble thinking clearly, tears ravaging her face. She hears her daughter's cries getting closer, she sees the nurse place her on her breasts, the little hands of the newborn clinging to her skin.

Instinctively, she rocked her gently in her arms, feeling Oscar place a kiss on her forehead. She hears Oscar crying next to her while he touches his daughter, who has stopped crying and looks at them with wide eyes. The same hazelnut eyes like her father. Those hazel eyes that made y/n fall in love with Oscar.

He kisses her cheek again, the same nurse who helped her give birth to her daughter asking her name.

''Oliva.'' Is the only thing she managed to say, too full of emotions. She is so happy that she forgets about the pain throughout her body.

After a few minutes of admiring Olivia and releasing all the stress they had accumulated, Oscar is forced to take Olivia in his arms to give her her first bath.

Meanwhile, the nurse comes back to prescribe a little more painkillers and check that everything is in order.

🏎️_ _ _ _ _

After less than a week in the maternity ward, Olivia is finally able to return home with her parents. Oscar drives his two princesses home, watching over Olivia through the rearview mirror every minute. Y/n is next to him, half asleep. Even though the nurses were there to help and support her after Olivia's birth, she was still terribly exhausted.

Once home, Olivia is hypnotized by all the new stuff she discovers. She quickly cried, the thing she has done the past few days. Her mother takes her in her arms, rocking her tenderly. Both new parents go to Olivia's news bedroom.

''Do you think she's hungry?'' Oscar asked her, not knowing what to do. ''You want me to prepare her a bottle of milk?'' He does his best to be there for his princess.

Y/n sit on the rock chair that Nicole gave her. ''I'll try to breastfeed her.'' Oscar looked at her, a bit stunned. She had already told him that she was afraid of doing that. And when they were in the maternity ward, she only did it two or maybe three times. But he let her do it. She does what she wants.

''You want me to leave? For more privacy?'' Maybe she's ashamed to do it? Oscar is afraid of making her uncomfortable. ''No it's ok. You can stay. It's not like you've never seen my breasts.''She chuckles, but baby Olivia doesn't have the same opinion and starts crying again, demanding something to eat.

Oscar sits on one of the many chairs available in the room and watches y/n do it. Her large t-shirt allows her to easily take her breast out through the collar and Olivia doesn't wait any longer to nibble her mother's nipple. At first, Y/n makes a bit of a strange face. It's normal actually, she's in a little pain because she's not used to it. And the feeling is horribly weird.

Oscar admires them, stars in his eyes. How beautiful are his two princesses.

Olivia finishes drinking and quickly finds herself asleep in her mother's arms. Oscar gets up and picks Olivia up, placing her in her crib. Y/n gives him a hug, placing her head on his shoulder. They both watch their little baby sleep peacefully for the first time in her crib.

After a few minutes, Y/n goes away. Oscar follows her, his hand rests on her lower back. He slowly closed the door behind him, already watching his daughter sleep through the baby monitor.

''I'm going to take a shower.'' She kisses the corner of his lips, already heading towards their room. ''Can I join you?'' She looks at him, hesitant. ''Uhm.. what if Olivia cry?'' Oscar doesn't insist, finding her explanation logical.

He goes back downstairs while she is already starting to undress in the bathroom. She doesn't take the time to look in the mirror, not wanting to see horror right away.

In the shower, she soaps herself without looking where she puts her hands, too afraid. She prefers to keep her eyes closed.

She wraps the towel around her chest and gets out of the tub. Once in front of the mirror, she can no longer avoid herself. She has to face it. She takes a deep breath and unties the knot holding the towel, placing it on the sink.

She wants to cry.

How did she go from a woman worthy of a Victoria Secret fashion show to such a...fat woman? Well.. fat is a big word. That's how she sees herself. But actually, it's just the beauty of a pregnant woman. Her breasts are no longer firm, they are sagging. She kept some of the belly that she had accumulated when Olivia was still inside her. She has stretch marks all over her hips, on her stomach and her thighs.

She can't hold it back and cry softly, disgust with herself.

She's so busy crying that she can't hide her tears when Oscar comes into the room. He always had the habit of entering the bathroom without warning her. She does it too. It's not like they've never seen each other naked. But this time, she wished they had gotten into the habit of knocking before entering the bathroom.

He comes in without saying anything, gets closer to her. She doesn't move away, looking at him through the mirror. He places his hands on her hips, caressing them tenderly. His head rests on hers and he watches her body through the mirror.

''It's hard, isn't it?'' She cries even more, hiding her face with her hand. He takes her in his arms and she crying against his shoulder.

''I hate myself. I was so beautiful before, so stunning.. and here I am now. Fat with scars everywhere on my body.''

''Listen to me, Y/n. This is a very difficult period for you, your body is still adapting to your pregnancy.'' He kisses your head. ''You're still the sexiest and hottest woman for me.'' He makes her chuckle against his shoulder.

''Now get dressed while I take a shower and wait for me in bed, ok?''

She nodded, putting on her pyjama and heading outside the room.

She wrapped herself in the bed, her eyes already heavy. She barely remembers Oscar joining her and warping his arms around her before she falls asleep.

[haytan]

GOURMET MESS | G.A

I was stuck on this ask for two weeks. But I finally managed to write again and I'm very proud of myself. I've never written so many words! Yay, I hope you like it! I also used y/s to represent your sister, I didn't want to decide on names.

𓍼 WORD COUNT: 2418

𓍼 SUMMARY: your parents are traveling for work so you have to take care of your siblings

𓍼 WARNINGS: fluff, inappropriate language what a funny thing about them being next to each other

your parents are away on a work trip, and as the older sister that makes you the one responsible for the kids. your sister is spending the weekend at her friends' house, which makes it easier. but your little brother has always been a master at draining your energy.

how do kids have so much energy? even though you’ve been one, you can’t quite come up with an answer, or maybe you just don’t want to admit that you’re getting old.

however, by the grace of the gods, an angel was sent to help you, and she has long hair, a fit body, and a scent that makes you want to grab her and never let go. it’s gracie, your girlfriend, of course. who else would it be?

“thanks for coming, gray,” you begin, leaning on the counter and scrolling through the food app. “you didn’t have to.” your gaze lifts to meet hers, noticing the persistent little smile on the corner of her lips.

gracie leans against you, arms on either side. it takes a certain mental strength of her not to fill you with kisses—one, because of the kids, and two, because she’s a little afraid of doing ‘things’ with you at your parents' house.

“of course i had to. you know i’d never leave you hanging.” her gaze moves to the living room. she brought her younger brother, august to play with yours. they’ve always gotten along well, two video game lovers.

“besides, i missed you. it’s been what, a whole week since we last saw each other? feels like forever.” gracie leans in, pressing a quick peck to your cheek.

you set your phone aside, taking advantage of the boys’ attention on the video game to steal a moment with your girlfriend. “yeah, i missed you too,” your arms wrap around her waist, pulling gracie against you and lightly bunching her loose shirt between your fingers. “and now you're aalll mine.”

“mmm, yes i am. all yours, baby.” she purrs, nuzzling into your neck and giving wet kisses. your skin tingles from the sudden touch, but before you can even respond, the boys interrupt.

“you want a room?” your brother starts, giving the young abrams a chance to speak up.

“we’re hungry.”

gracie smiles against your neck, and you can feel because she always tightens her arms around your waist when she does this.

“i’m ordering food. what do you guys want, huh?”

“we were thinking of something else…” your brother comments, dropping the controller and jumping off the couch—just like your mom told him not to do.

gracie pulls away from your neck, sitting up straight and now looking at them, waiting for their crazy idea.

“how about we cook?” both of them grin.

…

less than half an hour later, the kitchen is already a mess, but an organized mess, if such a thing exists. there are bowls of various colors scattered around, each with something different inside.

the plan is to make pizza. two pizzas. one savory and one sweet. gracie is mixing the ingredients with a spoon, and you can’t help but notice how her arm muscles tense up.

“man, we could open a pizza shop,” august grabs a piece of dough you just shaped into a ball. he presses it out clumsily, adds a handful of flour, and then twirls it on his finger.

“i’m serious, we’d get rich,” your brother joins the dream, tossing the dough into the air. it makes a near-perfect arc but falls straight onto the counter instead of back into his hand.

“yeah, if we could serve food that hasn’t hit the floor,” you joke.

gracie chuckles softly, still focused on her dough. “hey, maybe you guys could open a themed pizzeria? each pizza comes with a ‘show’ of juggling like that.”

“that’s a good idea!” august responds excitedly, ignoring the obvious teasing tone. he grabs more flour, throwing it onto the counter haphazardly.

“if that’s the case, i’m going to practice my routine now,” your brother says, grabbing a piece of cheese and pretending to toss it into the air like part of a trick.

“if you throw that on the ceiling, you’re the one who’s cleaning it up,” you warn, crossing your arms. but before he can respond, august spins the dough on his finger, sending flour flying around the kitchen.

“okay, enough with the juggling,” gracie intervenes, pointing at the two of them with the spoon she was using. “if anything else flies, you’re cleaning the kitchen by yourselves.”

august and your brother glance at each other, clearly torn between continuing the chaos or obeying gracie. in the end, they choose a suspicious silence, returning to their tasks with an obedience you don’t often see.

gracie turns to you, one eyebrow raised. “i think i’m scarier than you.”

“definitely,” you agree, smiling. “that’s why i called you to help me. they don’t challenge you.”

“it’s because i have this mean face,” she pretends to put on a serious expression while mixing the dough. but her charm ruins the act and you laugh.

“you’re not fooling anyone, baby.”

she shrugs with a little smile, tossing a handful of flour onto the counter in front of her. “maybe i’m just mean to you. want to test it?”

“maybe later,” your tone is teasing, something that stays just between the two of you.

meanwhile, the boys start arguing over the toppings. august insists on putting french fries on the savory pizza, and your brother thinks marshmallows will go well with the sweet one. you sigh, already predicting the disaster.

gracie leans in, pressing her hip against yours. “i think the pizzeria would have to put up a sign: eat at your own risk.”

“for sure,” you respond with a muffled laugh, while spreading the tomato sauce on the freshly rolled dough. “we could even offer life insurance with the pizzas.”

a few minutes later, the pizza is in the oven while gracie is busy cleaning the kitchen, placing the bowls in the sink and wiping down the counter to restore order to the space. you, on the other hand, notice that the boys are still in the living room, covered in flour and with their faces dirty from all the mess.

you don't say much, just approach them with a playful smile. "alright, guys, who’s going to be the first to take a shower?" you already know they’re going to complain, but as expected they grumble and drag themselves to the hallway with little enthusiasm.

meanwhile, you take a quick look around the living room and tidy up what’s out of place, putting cushions back on the couch and sweeping up the flour remnants.

less than fifteen minutes later, the boys return, now smelling fresh and dressed in warm clothes, the scent of soap still lingering in the air. they throw themselves on the couch, ready for the next round of gaming as if nothing ever happened.

when gracie looks at them, she can’t help but be surprised. “wow,” she murmurs, wrapping her arms around your waist as you approach.

“i'm the one who has to say 'wow',” your eyes drift across the kitchen. “it’s cleaner than before.”

“silly,” she steals a quick kiss from you, then another. “you’re amazing, you know?”

you can’t help the smile that forms on your face. “you are too.” for a moment a silence forms between you, but it's not uncomfortable, but rather full of something unsaid, something hanging in the air like the lingering smell of baking pizza.

“thank you for always handling everything. even when it’s chaotic… especially when it’s chaotic.”

you just smile, feeling your heart warm at her words. “i think we make a good team, huh?”

“no doubt,” she says, but there’s much more meaning behind it than words can capture. it’s something different from anything she’s ever experienced or felt—maybe security, maybe peace, maybe love, or all of it together. “wasn’t that bad, huh?”

“yeah,” you let out a little laugh. “but we still don’t know if we’ll survive their pizza.”

gracie’s eyes wrinkle at the corners, sharing in your laugh. “if we don’t survive, at least i’ll die happy. with you.”

“such a drama queen,” but you can’t hold back your smile. your face tilts slightly, and your lips almost touch hers when a shout echoes from the living room.

“is the pizza ready!?” your brother yells, interrupting the moment.

“jeez, we can’t even get peace at home,” you step away, heading toward the oven.

“i swear.”

with gracie’s help you take the pizzas out of the oven and bring them to the table. despite all the doubts, the pizzas actually turned out pretty good. the savory one is delicious, and the sweet one… well, it’s sweet enough to satisfy the kids.

“gourmet mess, first night of success,” gracie says, lifting a slice of the savory pizza as if to make a toast.

…

the boys are already asleep, and gracie went to take a shower. you’re giving the place a final tidy-up when you hear a sound and turn around quickly. “oh, you scared me, ghost!” you jump and place a hand over your chest.

thankfully, it’s just your emo sister, dressed all in black as always. she doesn’t respond to your teasing and seems… different. her mascara is smudged, but you can’t tell if it’s her new style or tears. “are you crying?”

“crying? me? pfft…” she wipes her eyes with her arm, only making her makeup situation worse. but thanks to her black leather jacket, no stains are left behind.

“hey, hey,” you set down the dish towel you were using to wipe the sink and pull the smaller girl into a hug. “what happened, sweetheart?”

“bab—” gracie stops when she sees you hugging your sister. it’s something she’s never seen before. even though she’s affectionate with her own siblings, they’re not the type to hug often. so logically, she deduces it must be something serious and decides to keep her distance, watching quietly.

“nothing, i just…” your sister pulls back enough to wipe her tears.

“hm?” you know your family too well to expect them to be emotionally open. but that doesn’t mean things have to stay that way. “talk to me.”

“it’s stupid. we were at a par—” she cuts herself off, accidentally revealing the truth. she was supposed to be at a friend’s house, not out and about.

“it’s okay…”

“we were at the party, and you know i’m not the type to show off or pretend to be someone i’m not. so i just stayed in my lane, drank from my cup, and talked to my friends,” she leans back against the counter. her voice is shaky, and she sniffles after speaking for too long.

“but then some stupid jerks came up to me and my friends,” she continues. “they were drunk, and they started trying to pick a fight. i didn’t stay quiet—i mean, i defended myself, you know? but they started to get nasty.”

gracie keeps watching from afar, and you both react similarly to the girl’s… delicate choice of words; eyes wide and but a small smile on the corner of the lips.

“they said things about my style, the way i act… normally, i don’t care, but i don’t know. you know that girl i told you about a few times?”

“the one you never stop talking about?”

your sister blushes slightly but looks away to hide it. “uh, yeah… anyway, she was there. she’s part of their group. and like… what if she thinks the same? what if i really am just a total idiot no one wants to be around?”

your eyebrows furrow, and the little smile you had disappears so quickly it’s as if it was never there. this is far too specific to be coming from someone who only listens to the same ten rock bands. “did they actually say that? you know what, never mind.”

“of course it matters!”

“y/s, of course it doesn’t. you can be a little annoying sometimes,” she rolls her eyes, “but that doesn’t mean you’re anything like what those people…” you catch yourself before swearing and sounding hypocritical, “what they said.”

“you being the way you are is what makes you unique, and definitely special. not everyone has the guts to go out dressed like that,” you continue.

“is this supposed to be a motivational speech?”

“what… what i’m trying to say is that being yourself, just the way you are, is amazing. not everyone has the courage to be their true self in this world. you do it without even realizing it. and you know what? anyone who can’t see that isn’t worth your time. much less your energy.”

your sister lowers her gaze, arms crossed as if she’s still resisting your words, but you catch the slight twitch at the corner of her mouth. she wants to believe you, even if she won’t admit it.

“and about that girl… well, if she can’t see it, maybe she’s not everything you think she is, you know? but…” you shrug, smiling softly. “if she can, she’ll admire you even more. because you’re incredible, y/s. even when you’re stubborn or challenging..”

she finally lets out a short laugh, shaking her head. “you’re so cheesy.”

“maybe… but am i wrong?”

she stays silent for a moment, rubbing her face with her hands to clean up the last traces of smudged makeup. finally, she takes a deep breath and looks at you with a small but genuine smile. “thanks. i needed that.”

“that’s what i’m here for, right?” you open your arms again, and this time she dives into the hug without hesitation.

gracie, still leaning against the doorframe, watches the scene with a small smile on her face. she doesn’t say anything, simply heading upstairs to her room, leaving the two of you in the moment.

her heart swelled with something so strong and warm that she collapsed onto her bed, staring at the ceiling with a lovestruck smile. she’d seen the way you cared for the kids, how you always tried to be there for them, but this time it felt different.

“how did i get myself into this?” she murmured to herself, her lips curving into a smile she couldn’t hide. abrams bit her lip, trying to contain the thoughts screaming inside her head. she was in love. and, for the first time in a long time, it didn’t scare her.

yes, i thought of nat as the sister and lottie as 'the girl'. lottienat lives!!!

thanks for reading <3

masterlist

[some-stars]

for the wanksgiving prompts, could i pretty please get poolverinessa with logan and vanessa dping wade in the ass, with a side of overstimulation and wade crying bc it feels so good if it fits?

hi anon! this took me two weeks but here you go <3

(i'm gonna stick this on ao3 tomorrow when im less sleepy and can think of a title)

--

The first time they'd done this, they actually didn't end up doing it, because she'd had to call a time-out so Wade could reassure Logan that yes, he definitely wanted it, and the tears were a feature rather than a bug. Which then turned into Logan apologizing for ruining things, so of course she and Wade had ended up double-teaming him instead until he was too fucked out and pussy-drunk to feel bad about anything. A fantastic night and no regrets, for sure, but Vanessa's been looking forward to their second attempt, and so far it's fully living up to her expectations.

"Fuuuuuuck," Wade groans as he slides down her cock, inch by textured, well-lubricated inch. "Oh fuck, Ness, why'd you pick the one with all the ridges?"

"Because I'm mean," Vanessa says, which makes his cock twitch and spit a little dribble of precome. When she laughs at him it happens again. "Come on, we don't have all night."

"We literally have all night," Wade says, but he obediently seats himself the rest of the way, a squeaky gasp escaping him as his ass meets her harness. His eyes meet hers, eager for her approval; she grants him a satisfied hum before shifting her attention to Logan behind him.

"Your turn, big guy," she tells him, and Wade giggles, though it sounds a little strained.

"You're trying to psych me out, aren't you? Joke's on you, I committed the exact dimensions of Logan's trouser snake to memory the first time I touched it. I could sculpt a one to one replica from marble down to the last vein with my fucking eyes closed. I am well aware of the camel-through-a-needle situation we're working with here, believe you me."

"Nah," Logan says, and strokes his back, one long slide of his hand like he's petting a cat. Wade arches up into it like a cat, too. "You're going to take it just fine."

"Easy for you to say, Big Dick McGee. It's not your delicate rosebud in the line of fire." The blissed-out look on his face as Logan keeps petting him undercuts his griping just a little.

"You've had my entire hand up your ass before," Vanessa reminds him. "I think you'll survive." Logan raises his eyebrows, looking startled and then interested, and oh, there's definitely more fisting in Wade's future. It'll probably take some coaxing to get Logan and his big manly hands fully on board, but Vanessa is confident in her persuasive talents.

"Fine," Wade says, sounding half out of breath already even though all she's done so far is grind up into him a little, "fine, yes, I'm the champion butt slut of the tri-state area, can we just get on with it already?" He tilts his head back hopefully and Logan takes the cue and kisses him. Vanessa lets them go at it for a while, because fuck if it isn't the prettiest thing she's ever seen, the way Logan devours Wade's mouth like he's planting his flag there, the way Wade opens up and lets him in like he's been aching to be conquered. 

They don't always kiss like that. Vanessa knows exactly how much Logan loves a little conquering himself--more, really, than he goes for this kind of thing. Or more than he lets himself want it, at least, because he sure does take to the role like a duck to water when they ask him nice enough. 

Logan's hand on Wade's cheek slides down to his throat and Wade and Vanessa groan in unison. "Fuck yes, choke me daddy--oh--" Wade whimpers as her hips rock up against him, like there's even any deeper she could get. The pressure grinds the base of her cock against her clit so good she can’t keep from doing it again. 

“Enough fucking around,” she pants, and it takes all her considerable strength of will not to just grab Wade’s hips and start fucking him right. She snaps her fingers impatiently at Logan, giving him the sternest mommy-dom glare she can manage when she wants this bad, and he obeys like the good boy he is. 

Wade chokes out a hitched little gasp as Logan drags him back up the length of Vanessa’s cock. She can’t see exactly what his hand does next, but it makes Wade’s cock jump, makes him moan and swear, so she has an idea. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight already.” Logan kisses Wade’s jaw, his shoulder still flexing steadily. “I can barely get a finger in there.”

“Oh, suddenly my cute little permavirgin fuckhole is a character flaw?” Wade can’t quite pull off ‘bitchy’ when he’s this turned on, but he does his best. The way he beams when Logan muffles a laugh against his throat makes her heart and her cunt clench simultaneously. 

“Just telling it like it is,” Logan says. He gives Wade's throat a sharp nip and pinches a nipple with his free hand, chuckles again at the way Wade jerks and whines. Fuck, but he's hot like this. Vanessa makes a mental note to have him boss Wade around more often. “If you really want us both, you’re gonna have to loosen up for me.”

“Come on,” Wade begs, halfway between pleading and petulant. “Just shove it in, peanut, I’ll get used to it so fast, I promise.” 

Logan hmmms consideringly and does something with his hand that makes Wade arch his back and groan. “You sure about that, sweetheart? It’s going to hurt.”

“Good thing he’s a nasty little pain slut, then,” Vanessa says, and the sound Wade makes shoots straight to her cunt, god. “That is what you are, right, honey? Our dirty little slut?”

“Jesus christ,” he moans, “keep bullying me, I’ll come, fuck, Logan, please--"

Vanessa watches them both as Logan forces his way in, his eyes fluttering closed as he drags Wade down onto both their cocks--slowly, but without pausing even for the space of a breath. Wade’s always so pretty when he’s being fucked past his capacity and god knows he’s pretty now, dragging in gasp after desperate little gasp as his eyes start to glitter with tears. 

"Look at him," she tells Logan, "fuck, look how much he fucking loves it." When she takes Wade in her hand he shudders hard, moaning with what she knows is his favorite blend of desire and fear. It'll hurt him, making him come stuffed full like this before he's even had a chance to adjust, forcing his struggling hole to clench and spasm around the two of them. It'll hurt and he'll cry and she can't fucking wait.

She strips his cock with quick hard strokes while Logan watches with lust-hazed eyes, his chin resting on Wade's shoulder. He forces Wade down that final inch at last, and Vanessa rubs her thumb roughly over the soft vulnerable tip of his dripping cock, and Wade shouts and sobs and comes all over her belly, all those shiny trembling tears spilling over like a busted dam as she drags it all out of him.

It damn near does her in too, the way he wails for her, and the shallow little thrusts Logan can't quite hold back that rock Wade's weight down against her clit. Not quite what she needs, but enough that she can feel a fresh gush of juice flood her cunt. God, she could probably take them both even better than Wade at this point, she's so fucking wet.

That's a thought for another night, though. She's got more than enough to keep her occupied right now.

"Jesus," Logan mutters, low and awed. Wade slumps back against his chest, shaking, and Logan licks a sloppy wet stripe up the side of his face like he can't even get it together enough for a kiss. "So fuckin' hot, sweetheart, doing so good for us."

Vanessa can tell the moment when Logan realizes what he's tasting on Wade's cheeks. His eyes go black and he fucking growls, which he's never done in front of her before. She's sure as hell going to make him do it a lot more from now on.

"Oh, Wade," she purrs, grinning, "you're so fucked, babe. I think he likes making you cry even more than I do."

The noise that shudders out of Wade's mouth is some unholy mix of a giggle and a sob. "Yeah, fuck--" He breaks off, keening, as Logan's teeth scrape roughly over his ear. "God, fuck, yeah, I'm in danger. As the--" Another bite, another whimper. "As the kids say. Which is. Something. I--fuck!"

Logan plants one broad hand between Wade's shoulder blades and shoves, forcing him down onto his elbows with a startled huff. "Still talking, huh?"

"Oh, is that the game now?" Wade pants, rocking back as Logan finally starts to move, slow deep thrusts. "You want me to shut up, you're--ah--gonna have to fuck me better than that." His voice wobbles too hard for either of them to take his goading seriously, but Logan grabs his hips and gives it to him anyway. 

It doesn't make him shut up but it does reduce him to wordless moaning in less than a minute, and Vanessa lets herself bliss out for a while on the steady rocking pressure of the strap, the filthy slap of Logan's hips against Wade's ass, Wade's hitched little sniffles as he tries not to start crying again. He's going to fail, of course, but she loves watching him get there, loves the way his face collapses when he finally gives up the fight.

Her gaze keeps sliding away this time, though, because Logan is shockingly pretty as he chases his pleasure. He's flushed, pink all over and dripping with sweat, eyes closed, mouth open. More than anything he looks like one of those old paintings of the saints, face painted with an ecstasy so sharp and focused it looks more like agony than delight.

"Talk to me, Logan." She digs a heel into the small of his back, not particularly gently. "Come on, tell me how it feels, I want to hear you." 

He groans, his hips stuttering to a halt as he meets her eyes. "I--"

She kicks him once, hard. "I said talk, I didn't say stop."

His eyes go wide and he lets out a pained grunt, but there's not a hint of protest in it. He starts moving again, falling back into his driving, brutal rhythm.

"That's more like it," she says warmly. Just that sliver of praise gets a moan out of him, and she can't help giving him more. "Such a good boy, doing what you're told. Tell me how good our bitch feels on your cock, Logan."

Wade sobs, his trapped dick pulsing against her stomach as he comes a second time, and Logan swears and slams into him hard enough to slide Vanessa almost all the way up the bed with a startled squeak. "So fuckin' good, he feels good--so goddamn tight I can't stand it, christ."

She collects herself. "That tight, huh?"

Logan gasps out a laugh. "If you could fucking feel it in there--"

"Oh, honey," Vanessa sighs, "if I had a dick I could feel, you'd both be taking it full time, I promise. Now be good for me and come in his ass so I can sit on your face, okay?"

As always, Logan obeys. Wade moans weakly, puddled helplessly atop her chest, and she squeezes the back of his neck and watches Logan fall apart for her, pretty as can be.

Thankfully, Logan's well-trained enough by now not to just drop his weight on top of her when he goes boneless. Wade (who has no such training, but weighs two hundred pounds less) nuzzles into her neck and whimpers pathetically as Logan pulls out and collapses on his back at their side. Vanessa can't help imagining how wrecked Wade must look down there, and sure enough her fingers slide up inside his swollen, dripping hole like she was sinking into warm butter.

Loose as he is, he tenses when they go in. "Fuck, Ness..."

"Yeah?" She strokes up and down her own length inside him, smiling as he starts to tremble. "You want to file a complaint?" He trembles harder, shakes his head. "Good boy."

He really is wrung out, though, and she only tortures him a little before relenting. When she nudges his ass he squirms up and off of her dick, and Logan helpfully rolls him off her the rest of the way so she can unbuckle the harness and toss it on the floor.

She doesn't have to say a word, just swings her leg over Logan's chest and shuffles up to his eager waiting mouth. He learned fast here too, and he knows how bad she needs it; it's not even half a minute before she's grinding down against him and coming at long fucking last. 

It's entirely unnecessary to snarl at him not to fucking stop, but she does it anyway because she loves telling Logan what to do as much as he loves being told. The next orgasm hits almost as fast and just as hard, but she makes him work for the last two, and when she finally flops back on the bed between the two of them she knows his jaw is aching. It's a pity it won't stay that way, but since the healing factor also wipes out his refractory period, it more or less comes out in the wash.

Which reminds her that actually, Logan's probably ready to go again, since one isn't usually enough to finish him off. Well, that can be Wade's problem. She's got about thirty seconds of awake left in her.

"I'm going to sleep," she announces. "If you two want to fuck some more, do it in the other bed, okay?"

They yes-ma'am her in unison, her good good boys, and she drifts off smiling.