#and possibly pull suspicion eventually

[natjennie]

fuckign christ sailor is such a good leech bluff oh my god.

[myth1cs]

Completing the mission (Myoui Mina x M!Reader)

Even more smut and I'm still sorry for it.

Word Count: 2067

Mina was arriving at a party and preparing to carry out the mission

Her boss Bangchan has set her on an important mission to steal important documents from Y/N the host of the party.

Mina was an agent for hire. She didn't know the specifics for why Bangchan wanted her to steal those documents but as long as she was getting paid she could care less. She just needed to complete the mission whatever the cost.

Mina was struggling in her home life. It was hard to pay the bills and buy enough food to feed herself. So she decided to become an agent for hire, selling her services for a price. An expensive price, after all she was good at her job, she couldn't sell her skills for nothing after all.

This party was her best chance to steal the documents. If she failed then she wouldn't get paid and surely would be punished, the pressure was on.

As she was arriving at the door to enter the party she pulled out the invitation Bangchan gave her. Y/N sent Bangchan an invitation but he gave it to Mina and texted Y/N he would send his secretary in his place because he felt sick and wouldn't be able to attend.

Y/N believed Bangchan as he didn't think Bangchan had a reason to lie to him.

The guard at the door accepted Mina's invitation and let her in. Her mission had officially begun. As she walked in she saw some of the biggest CEO's from the biggest companies in the country. She felt a bit tense but she composed herself and started walking around to get a basic layout of Y/N's house.

As Mina walked through the house suddenly heard someone call her name.

"Hey I don't recognize you"

Mina turned around and she saw him the host of the party Y/N.

"I'm Bangchans secretary Mina he sent you a message telling you he would send me on his behalf." as Mina said this she noticed Y/N was trying to subtly scan her body. He didn't do a good job at it as Mina quickly caught him but she decided to stay quiet about it.

"Well Mina let me show you around it would be rude not to." Y/N said as he held his hand out to Mina. She was just trying to complete her mission and get out as quickly as possible but having a good relationship with Y/N could help lower her suspicion as she wasn't sure Y/N trusted her.

"Yeah sure." Mina said as she grabbed Y/N's hand.

Y/N walked her around his house introducing her to the other guests and asking her questions about her job.

Eventually Y/N took Mina to his winery. "Do you care for a drink Mina?" Y/N asked while grabbing a bottle.

"I could go for a drink but please let me fill your drink" Mina said trying to grab the bottle from Y/N's hands.

"Oh no let me I am your host after all, I should be the one treating my guests" Y/N said as he pulled the bottle away.

Mina was getting nervous, her original plan was to put sleeping pills into Y/N's drink so she could find the code to Y/N's safe and steal the documents without worrying about getting caught. She couldn't let Y/N serve the drinks.

"No really I insist" Mina said with a little more force which slightly shocked Y/N. He didn't know Mina could be so intense.

Y/N handed Mina the bottle "Well if you insist then I guess I won't stop you." He said while being a little scared of Mina.

"Hey Y/N could you bring some ice I like having my alcohol with ice" Mina didn't actually like her alcohol with ice she just needed an excuse to get Y/N out of the room.

"Sure I don't mind" Y/N said as he left the room. As soon as Y/N was out of sight she quickly grabbed the cups and started pouring the alcohol in them. Then she grabbed the pills and crunched them up and dropped them into Y/N's cup.

She quickly went to the bathroom and flushed the bottle that the pills were held in into the toilet.

When she got back she saw Y/N was already their.

"Where did you go Mina? You weren't here when I got back."

"I was just using the restroom" Mina quickly responded.

Y/N looked at her with a hint of doubt in his eyes but he just brushed it off.

Y/N picked up a glass and handed it to Mina. "Well let's drink up Mina and say cheers on behalf of Bangchan who couldn't make it today." Y/N said while smiling at her.

Mina grabbed the drink and did a toast with Y/N.

She started drinking her cup while carefully watching Y/N waiting to see any hints of sleepiness in him. She decided to stay near Y/N until she saw any signs of him getting tired.

Some time has passed and the party is still ongoing yet. She was sitting at a table in the corner of a room with Y/N and they've been talking this whole time and yet Mina hasn't seen any signs of tiredness from Y/N. She could have sworn the pills were supposed to take effect by now so what gives?

As Mina started thinking of why Y/N hasn't shown any signs of sleepiness she suddenly had a feeling not of tiredness but of something else.

She was getting horney.

She didn't understand why even if she did accidentally drink the cup she made for Y/N she should be getting sleepy not horney. But then Mina had a thought.

Before she left for her mission she grabbed a bottle from her drawer but she didn't bother to check the label as most of the pills she keeps are ones to put people to sleep. However she does keep one that holds a different type of pills. An aphrodisiac, she had it in case she ever needed it for a mission but she never actually intended to use it.

Mina realized she grabbed the wrong bottle from her drawer and now she was in big trouble. She thought she failed the mission since she was getting to friendly with Y/N earlier he would definitely notice if she was gone for a prolonged period of time and get suspicious.

But she couldn't admit defeat that easily she had to find a different way. As she started to think of something she could do she started to rub her thighs together to get some tension. Y/N kept talking to her about ... well who knows what she wasn't listening to him after all her mind was filled with panic, lust, and thoughts of how to get out of this situation.

"Mina are you okay? I feel like my words are going in one ear and leaving the other" Y/N said slightly annoyed that Mina wasn't paying attention to him.

"Uhm~ yeah I'm just ... very deep in thought" Mina said while feeling her face getting hotter. She needed something to relieve herself she couldn't focus on her mission until she felt relief.

"Mina if you need to lay down you can-" Before Y/N could finish his sentence he was cut off.

"Y/N show me to a room" Mina said in a desperate voice.

"O-okay Mina calm down" Y/N said a little confused on why Mina sounded so needy.

Y/N grabbed Minas hand and walked her to the guest bedroom. Mina was trying her best to hold urges but she was at her limit. Eventually they got to the guest bedroom and Y/N closed the door behind them.

"Well you can stay in here unt-" Y/N was quickly cut off by Mina who latched her lips onto his.

Y/N was shocked by the sudden move by Mina and pulled her off of him. "Mina what are you-"

Mina locked the door and looked at Y/N with lust in her eyes. "Y/N I saw you checking me out earlier, please I need you right now"

Y/N pulled Mina to him and kissed her back. Y/N's hands roamed Minas body. Y/N's hands reached down and squeezed Mina's butt. Mina moaned into Y/N's mouth.

"Ahh~ Fuck" Mina kept making noise under Y/N's touch. Their hands were roaming each other's bodies while lustfully kissing each other.

Mina was getting a little needy. She needed more than Y/N's touch. "Y/N get this dress off me" Mina said with urgency in her voice.

Y/N started to quickly take Mina's dress off exposing her breasts and pussy to the cold air.

Y/N put one hand on one of Mina's breasts and another on Mina's butt. Mina squirmed and she couldn't take it. "Y/N please touch me where I most need it"

Y/N liked seeing Mina so needy and he wasn't keen on giving Mina what she wanted so quickly.

Y/N pinched Mina's nipple and kissed her more roughly. "Now now Mina were getting a little too needy." As he said this he could see slight annoyance in Mina. "Oh shut up and put your dick in me"

Y/N picked Mina up and put her on the bed. "Such a dirty mouth you have Mina, what would Bangchan think if he heard such words coming from his secretary?"

"Oh shut up Y/N" Mina said with a mix of annoyance and neediness. She grabbed Y/N's hand and put it up to her pussy.

While Y/N did want to tease Mina, when he felt the warmth of Mina's pussy he lost all his will to continue teasing her and gave in.

Y/N fingered Mina's pussy in quick manner not letting Mina adjust to his fingers. "OH SHIT" Mina yelled but she quickly covered her mouth to muffle it. "Your so loud Mina do you want everyone to know how your getting fucked?"

Mina couldn't respond as she was too focused on the mix of pain and pleasure she was receiving. Y/N curled his fingers in Mina and it sent her closer to release. "I'm close"

When Y/N heard that he immediately pulled his fingers out. Mina whined when she felt his fingers leave as she was close to cumming. "Y/N you fucking bitch" Mina said while panting.

Y/N ignored Mina and took off his pants revealing his dick which was already hard. Mina gasped, she knew what was about to happen. "Y/N wait your not wearing any-"

Y/N ignored Mina's plea and shoved his dick in Mina. Mina almost let out a loud scream but quickly covered her mouth.

For the next few minutes Y/N pumped his dick in and out of Mina. Every now and then they would engage in a lustful kiss or put their hands on each other.

Eventually Y/N was getting at his limit. "Mina I'm going to cum" Y/N said feeling exhausted.

"Let me swallow your cum" Mina said. She really didn't want to but she needed a reason to not let Y/N cum in her.

Y/N got a few final pumps in before he exited Mina's warm and tight pussy. Mina sat up and took Y/N's dick in her mouth and started sucking. Not long after Y/N came in Mina's mouth.

After coming off from such a high Y/N got exhausted and fell asleep on the bed.

Mina swallowed the thick cum. She really didn't think Y/N would have so much cum in him. She got up and got herself clean with the tissues which were next to the bed.

Mina put on her dress and put perfume on her to get the smell of sex off of her.

She took this chance to go to Y/N's room to look for the code to the safe. She eventually found the code and typed it into the safe.

Mina left the party with the documents in hand. She got her phone and called Bangchan.

"I completed the mission"

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

"Wow myth1cs you really like yapping huh?"

Yes.

Also don't expect this type of schedule this is a rare case of me actually having motivation.

[patscorner]

Night, Night

Summary: You and your girlfriend expose your relationship at night.

wc: 2,027

Contains: just fluff, one of the worst endings I've written, but I hope yall enjoy.

______________________________

“Let's gooooo!!! Suck it, Kamorea!!” Paige shouts, standing from the couch and throwing her controller down before doing a victory lap around the dorm room. KK rolls her eyes at the blonde's antics and turns to her phone on the desk.

It'd been a while since all the girls had been able to really hang out, but since summer sessions had just ended, you decided a little gathering was well deserved. You invited the team to your apartment to chill, which is what led you to now; sitting next to your girlfriend on the couch, watching KK and Paige play rocket league, occasionally laughing at the comments that came from KK's live. You and Morgan weren't public yet, so you made sure you stayed a safe distance away from her so as to not raise suspicions.

You were doing an okay job, having to stop yourself from lacing your fingers with hers. Aubrey was at the desk, monitoring the comments, reading a couple out loud, and ignoring the out of pocket ones. You watched as Paige ran out of the room shouting, probably bothering anybody who was possibly sleeping. You can't help but giggle when you hear her being scolded by Azzi in the kitchen.

What you don't see is Morgan staring at you, hearts in her eyes, watching the way your eyes squint close and the way the corners of your mouth crease as you laugh. Aubrey sees it, though, and so do the other 1,527 viewers. Aubrey turns around and looks at Morgan, wordlessly waiting for her to stop looking at you. When she eventually does, Aubrey makes a face, and her eyes flick to the phone screen.

You look between them, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What, what happened?”

“Nothing.” The girls say in unison. Morgan clears her throat, trying to will the blush that had crept onto her face. KK turned around and smirked.

“Morrrrgggiieeeeee,” She teased, drawing a laugh from Aubrey and an eye roll from the freshman.

“Oookay!” Morgan stood up abruptly, the blanket you were sharing, falling off of her. “Where are you going?” You ask, pouting as she walked towards the door.

“Just to the kitchen, you need anything?” She turns, sliding her phone in her right pocket. You smile at her gesture. “Just some chips, if we have any.” She nods before walking out.

“I'm all good, thanks for asking, Morgie!” KK calls after her, Aubrey shaking her head as she turns back to the phone. “Shut up, KK!” Morgan calls back.

Paige comes back into the room with a pout on her face. “What's wrong with you?” You ask as she plops down on the couch next to you, opposite where Morgan was sitting. “Azzi is being mean.”

“Me telling you not to sit on me is not being mean!!” A voice calls.

“Whatever.” Paige groans, pulling her phone out.

You shake your head before going on your phone. You already feel your stomach tighten in the absence of the love of your life. You both have been dating for eight months, and it's been everything you wanted and more. It didn't take long for the team to figure it out, and as soon as they did, they teased you both relentlessly. You couldn't even smile at your phone without them asking if it was Morgan. Granted, it always was, but that's besides the point.

You think about the moments you've had with her. Whether it's playing 1 on 1 with her at 2 am, because she couldn't sleep or sitting next to each other on the couch after an argument, talking out your feelings. You think about the times she would leave the house when you were sick to get the medicine you wanted, even if you already had some that would've worked just the same. You think about the subtle sparks that burned until they were blazing inferno whenever you grazed each other during a game or at a party. You think about the heated makeout sessions that turned into more and you think about the slow, lazy kisses you shared while drifting in and out of consciousness.

Where is she?

You're about three seconds from getting up and searching for Morgan when she walks in with four bags of chips and a bottle of water. “Wha- why do you have so many?” You question.

The brunette gives you one of her dopey grins before as she sets them on the table. “I didn't know which one you wanted, so I brought one of each.” You can't hide the smile that sneaks its way to your face as you take the water from her. “Thank you, ba- Morgie.” You correct yourself quick enough that only the girl in front of you could hear it. Her eyes are wide with amusement. “You're welcome.” She says, plopping down next to you.

KK turns around and looks at the chips in Morgan's hand. “Whipped.” Is all she mutters and the other girls burst into giggles, including yourself.

Morgan grabs a pillow and throws it at her, hitting her in the back of the head. KK glares at her, and Morgan sticks her tongue out.

“Girl boo!”

“If Morgan could pass the ball like that, Coach would stop making us run suicides.” Paige muttered quietly, but not quiet enough because the room erupted with laughter. You place your hand on the freshman’s thigh, patting her lovingly as she glared at you, who was struggling to stifle your laughter. You bit your lip, and Morgan's eyes trailed to them, and suddenly, your breath hitched.

“Not too much on my kid, c’mon, yall.” Aubrey says, giggles escaping her lips. She glances at the comments, some people talking about the way Morgan was looking at you. She ignores them. “You act your any better, P, how do you miss a layup?”

“Woah! There were two people next to me!” Paige defends herself.

“Please, they were practically social distancing. You had plenty of room.” You say, earning a glare from her. You attempt to ignore the girl on the other side of you, whose arm is subtly wrapping itself around your waist from behind. You raise your eyebrows as you turn to Morgan, astonished by her boldness. She ignores you and pretends to be on her phone.

The night drags on as KK has started the talent show. Paige migrated to the floor after telling Aubrey she could get more kills than her in fortnite. You've sprawled out, legs where Paige once was, head in your girlfriend's lap. The day was starting to catch up to you as you started to drift in and out of consciousness, and Morgan, running her hands through your hair delicately, was lulling you to sleep. Despite your efforts to fight sleep, she could feel your body relax when you nodded off and tense up again when you realized you'd done so.

A small smile made home on her lips as she leaned down to your ear. “You tired?” she asked, pausing her hand movements. You shook your head. “Mmm-mmm. Wide awake, you?” You mumble. She scoffs playfully, resuming her hands.

“Do you wanna go to your room?” she whispers. “No.” You say. “‘m good right here.”

“Go to sleep, then.” She hums. You nod sheepishly before drifting off once more.

You'd been asleep for no longer than five minutes, before KK was yelling at Paige, who was trying to beat Aubrey's five kills in Fortnite.

“Paige, go left! There's like three peop- no! Your other left! Dumba-”

“Watch your mouth!” Aubrey yells before KK finishes the word. Just then, Paige gets a kill, and she exclaims loudly.

“Let's go!!!” She shouts before locking back in.

“Could yall quiet down?” Morgan says, causing Aubrey and KK to look at her, then glance at you, dozing off again, before looking at each other. “Is she really sleeping, right now? It's only 8:30.” KK laughs. Aubrey giggles. “Guess my kid is a grandmother.”

Morgan shakes her head, looking down at you. “No, just between school and practice, she hasn't been sleeping well.”

She can't help the smile that crawls onto her face as she glances down at you, eyes fluttered shut peacefully. The peace had been missing from your features for weeks, and been replaced with furrowed brows and stressed wrinkles.

KK and Aubrey look at each other before bursting out in loud laughter, waking you up once more, causing you to groan.

“She's so whipped, bro.” Paige mutters, her eyes never leaving the screen. This only eggs the other girls on, everybody forgetting about the now 2,000 people watching them on the other side of their phone screens.

"I know you're not talking." Morgan shoots back.

"Ay, not too much." Paige laughs.

Morgan rolls her eyes at the girls before leaning back down to your ear. “Let's go to bed, sweetheart.” She mumbles.

You don't even try to fight it this time. You just hum and sheepishly sit up before leaning your head back on the couch and letting your eyes close once more. At this point, nobody cared about the live, it being long forgotten on the desk.

Morgan patted your thigh before standing up. “Come on, pretty girl, let's get you to bed.” You whine as she wraps her arms around your back, pulling you up to your feet. “No..” You slur, your voice muffled by her shirt. She laughs as you reluctantly wrap your arms around her neck, and she taps the back of your thighs to signal you to jump, and you oblige. KK eyes widen, looking at you guys, then back at the live, watching people slowly start to freak out.

“Do I need to-” She cuts herself off when she sees Morgan shaking her head. “Don't worry about it. It was bound to happen.” She offers a small smile before kissing your head and walking out of the room. She hears the girls laughing in shock before she closes the door behind her. She earns giggles from Ice, Azzi, Ayanna, and Jana, who are playing a quiet game of UNO.

It's almost funny how easily she carried you to your bed, laying you down before standing back up. You whine and lift your arms up to her, signaling you want her to stay. She laughs before kissing your cheek. “I'll be right back, baby, hold on.”

Morgan walks out of the room and back into the room with KK. She gathers your phone, as well as the empty bags of chips and other trash that had gathered. “Bro, Morgan, come give these people a backstory so I can stop avoiding these comments.” the shorter girl groans. Morgan, Paige, and Aubrey laugh as she makes her way next to KK.

She squints as the questions roll in. “How long have y'all been dating?” She reads. “Uhhh- almost a year.” she smiles as she answers.

“Who said ‘I love you first?’” KK reads, turning to Morgan, who's blushing.

“Me, but she knew first. She just didn't tell me.” She rolls her eyes playfully.

“Okay, okay, that's enough. This is not Morgan's live, and I'm not bouta sit here and listen to this story again.” She complains. Morgan sends her a glare before backing up. “Whatever, she's waiting for me, anyway. Goodnight, Live.” She smiles and waves. “Night, Morgie.” KK says, directing her attention back to the TV screen.

“Night.” Aubrey offers. Morgan looks at the blonde. “Goodnight, Paige.”

All she gets is a grunt. She rolls her eyes before walking back out and offering the other girls goodnight.

She walked back into your room to find you right where she left you. She smiles as she kisses your cheek, waking you up gently. “Get under the blanket, baby.” She whispers. You move automatically, still sleep.

She crawls onto you, pulling the blanket over you both. She put all of her weight on you, her face in the crook of your neck, where she presses a kiss. “Goodnight. Love you.” She whispers. All she gets is a hum back, but she doesn't miss the way your arms wrap around her body, holding her securely onto her.

______________________________

taglist: @wintersstan @bueckerslover @lilia22hicks @fake-intelligences @girlokwhatever @pbloverr @breeloveschris-deactivated20240 @cosmopretty @hellokittyfeenie @averagelobotomyenjoyer @elliewilliamsthang @chelisbae @angelscovee

[pedgito]

𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 | Joel Miller x reader

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summary | A poor damsel in distress, saved by the most unlikely of man.

author's note | this was written for @studioghibelli's beautiful fic challenge. i've never written anything this close to a royal-ish type era, if you could even call it that. but this is just a slight dip into that realm and it was super fun! thank you for hosting this, bell! idk if any of this is accurate i'm just vibing dsjhk

content warning | 18+ smut, princess!reader, mentioned to have hair long enough to be tied back, regency au, age gap, wealth/power dynamic, mentions of past marriage/death, BREEDING KINK, talks of marriage and pregnancy, secret relationship, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v

word count —1.8k

“If he catches us, we’ll both be dead.”

It was a constant mantra Joel spoke to you, even as he unfastened your corset and slipped under the thick fabric of your dress, disappearing as he fit his face between your thighs.

It started out of innocence—a strange man with growing, constant visits to your manor at the edge of town. At first it was only on official business, a supplier of goods to your father. Joel was a jack of all trades: armor, leatherwork, anything you could think of, he’d mastered it. It was just another method of proof on how good he was with his hands.

“You need not worry,” You breath, pressed against the wall of his cobblestone home, often sneaking out in the middle of night with the possible threat of capture prevalent in your mind.

The estate had always been heavily guarded, but living there your entire life had made it easier to learn patterns, behaviors, and sneaking out to see him over time had become effortless. It had been months by now—and even as his friendship with your father grew, there were no signs, not an ounce of suspicion of what he blossomed between you both.

“He offered me a job,” Joel speaks lowly, muffled under the fabric of your dress as your leg hooks over his shoulder, fingers wrapped around the top of your bodice as you squeeze, feeling your breath catch in your throat as he licks through the center of your cunt, “well paying, convenient enough.”

You gasp softly, lifting at your skirt to get your hands on him, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling, earning a soft grunt as he peeks up at you, pulling away for a brief moment.

“What was it?”

“Royal guard—and no princess, not for him.”

“As if I don’t already have enough men guarding me,” You sigh, pushing him away and adjusting your dress—he looks slightly dejected, but stands and fixes your dress, caressing your cheek with his hand, “you cannot say yes, Joel. If you are near—”

“I know,” He murmurs, there’s a shift in his dialect that is so distinctly different from your own—years of being taught to speak up, out, to project with your voice and always act as if you were speaking to the masses, thoughtful contrition to a group much lower than yourself, “bein’ around you that often, don’t know how I could keep my hands off of you.”

If your father knew about this—you and him, a man nearly the age of your own father. He’d be ordered to death and you, while the fate may be different, wouldn’t be left with much freedom either. You were long of age, but bound to your duties as a princess and fearful of the man your father would eventually decide to marry you off to. Joel had saved you, distracted you from all of it. It would be impossible to live without him now.

“I sound ungrateful,” You grumble, looking down and grasping his other hand with yours, intertwining your fingers and bringing it to your chest but not before you press a gentle kiss against the back of his palm, “for what I have—but if I lose you…”

That place was a prison and you knew it. He knew it.

“A golden cage is still a cage,” Joel reminds you, “—that place, your father—”

You already knew—your father was slowly spiraling out of control, the rule of his country slipping from his grasp and he was scrambling and you knew he wouldn’t go down without a fight. But, you were tired. So tired. With the absence of your mother, your other siblings, you felt trapped.

“Take me away,” You beg, eyes watering as the words slipped from your lips, “we can disappear—I do not need this wealth or title, any of it. Only you.”

“He won’t stop,” Joel tells you honestly, “we would always be running.”

You pull your hand free of his grasp and curve them around his face, cradling the softness of his jaw, the scratch of his facial hair under your fingertips and he licks at his bottom lip, a tell-tale sign of the burgeoning lust. He needed you.

“Is that really what you want?”

He means it—it was a tone you’ve never heard before.

And something tells you he’s been feeling the same way for a while.

“Yes,” You answer quickly, nodding jerkily as you pull him close and Joel has to physically restrain himself from taking you there, licking his lips once more as they hover near your own, “please, Joel.”

“Let’s have this night,” Joel tells you softly, “and we can figure everything out come morning.”

—

It was peaceful here, a small cottage out in the middle of nowhere—if you wanted to stay here you could, but you knew that would be the first place your father would look outside of town.

Joel, his confidante, his most trusted man who was now under you, fingers digging into your thigh as you took his cock inside of you, his hand guiding at the base as he breathed out into the quiet room, the low crackle of the fire at his bedside.

“If you could see yourself,” Joel says absently, watching as you pull the tightly woven ribbon from your hair, breasts stretching up with the movement until it fell from its intricately laced cage, bouncing lightly with your playful movement, a smile peeking from your lips, “such a vision, princess.”

“I am no princess,” You argue gently, palms pressing into his chest as you lift your hips, leisurely and slow, enjoying the tight pull of his brow every time your ass meets his hips, “I was not made for that life, Joel.”

“Made for me,” He assures, his warm tone spreading throughout your core and pulling you in, the hands place on your thighs moving up your hips, squeezing into the flesh of your waist as his mouth drops open, silently urging you to change your pace, “perfectly crafted, all I’ve ever needed.”

You snort softly at his words—he was always a poet, whether stumbling through his words or bringing you to your knees with a compliment that would be on your mind for days, echoing in your head as you dipped your fingers inside of you on the days you went without him.

“Would you marry me?” You ask suddenly, though you feel the answer before he says it.

“Without hesitation,” He responds, “I can propose—right now, if you want.”

“Such a romantic,” You chide, the words falling on a gasp as he flips you both suddenly, shoving you into the old mattress as the bed creaks with the weight and intensity of his thrusts, the rest of your words caught in your throat as he pulls your legs up and over his back, hands resting firmly beside your head, a true vision himself.

“If it would make you happy, I would,” He admits, “all I care about is having you, being with you—titles, all of that, it doesn’t mean much to me but if that is something that would make you happy—”

“What do—” Joel switches his position suddenly, an arm tucking under your leg as he pulls it over his shoulder and leans up to meet your cunt with his thrust, watching his cock as you swallowed him up, his hand falling over the base of your pelvis and pressing down, feeding into the pressure of his cock and the all-consuming feeling of him, “christ—what is it—that you want?”

“You,” He answers immediately, “and…”

He pauses, thinking carefully on his words.

You know little of his past other than his wife and daughter who had fallen ill, losing them when he had been away on business, unbeknownst and coming home to the sight of it. He was a broken, brittle man and you were the only thing holding him together.

“I would give you a son,” You tell him, “a daughter—as many kids as you wished, Joel. Is that what you want?”

“A family,” He smiles fondly, “with you?”

“I fear you would—oh—never escape me then,” You joke playfully, eyes squeezing shut as he snaps forward roughly, his thumb dragging over your clit fleetingly as your hands dig and twist in the bedsheets, “what a handful I would have with a small version of you.”

He chuckles softly, snaking his hand under your waist and pulling at your arm until you get the idea to wrap them around his neck, adjusting you up and into his lap, carefully examining his face under the soft glow of the fire, his lip quivering as you drag your thumb over his mouth.

“I want it,” You plead, “don’t—don’t pull away.”

“You’ve given me so much,” He mumbles into your cheek as you pull him closer, hugging him to your chest as he wraps himself around you, grunting as he reached closer and closer to his own end, “and you've been trapped your entire life, I don’t want you to feel that way with me.”

“And I would give you so much more,” You breath into his mouth, “picture it—barefoot, pregnant with your child in a home far away from here, our new life—”

“Baby,” He begs, his fingertips squeezing roughly into your flesh and you gasp, your cunt pulsing around him with the roughness of his movements, pussy throbbing at his fervent intensity at your words, “I love you.”

You nod, tucking his face into your neck as he hands slips between your bodies, dragging over your clit without you needing to ask, knowing he was just that in tune with your bodily cues, the hitch in your voice as you echo the words back to him.

“Come inside of me,” It wasn’t an order, more of a plea, but you mean it, “I want to be yours.”

Forever, you think. But, the words are cut off by a sharp, jerky snap of Joel’s hips as he comes inside of you, his teeth dragging over your shoulder as he groans into your skin, simultaneously working his thumb over your sensitive clit, feeling your clench and spasms around him as you come with a soft sigh, fingers twisting into his hair and your body curling around him like a python, squeezing him so tight it knocks the air out of him.

“Do you have everything you need?” Joel asks after a few minutes, gentle touches over your skin, pulling his face back to look at you. “Before we leave at sunrise?”

“I have you,” You assure him, “that is all I need.”

[ccazimi]

Milk

CW: smut, thighriding, dubcon(?), premature ejaculation, male lactation, breastfeeding, namecalling, 18+ MDNI

wc: 2.8k

A/N: legit no one asked for this im just having a self indulgent moment

You were contentedly sprawled across the cool silk fabric, the massive sea of dark red that made up the expanse of Sukuna's luxurious bedding. It carried his scent - faint notes of charred pine, incense, agarwood with just the slightest hints of his musk.

Such a delicious scent-

"Stop smelling my sheets." His disapproving voice came from somewhere behind you in his chamber.

"The come get in so I can smell you instead." You twisted your neck to search for him in the warm lambent light of the standing oil lamps.

"I'm...not tired." He was sitting on a cushion, draped in the black haori that encased his bare chest nearly entirely.

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion.

Sukuna had been absent more than usual the last few days - you thought he was avoiding you on purpose so you gave him his space. But four days was reaching the limit and eventually you steeled yourself and marched to where his personal quarters were located in the back of the estate amongst a forested patch of land, and confronted him.

Upon seeing you he caved in and let you into his room, denying that there was any issue. You weren't the type that cared to play guessing games so you took his word for it and invited yourself into his bed that you'd missed terribly.

Sukuna was never especially talkative and there was a mutual tacit agreement that silence was perfectly fine between the two of you - comfortable, even. What was odd right now, however, was his physical proximity.

If there was one thing to be known about Sukuna, it was that he was a man of the senses - your time with him may be spent in verbal silence but his hands were always on you, nose in your hair or the crook of your neck, the tongue on his stomach idly tracing patterns on your skin whenever and wherever it got the chance to do so.

So why was he being so off right now? Practically hovering since the moment you'd arrived, almost strategically keeping some distance from you at all times.

Oh.

Sukuna's brows furrowed slightly in confusion as he watched your default mischievous demeanor fall.

"Have you...grown tired of my body, my Lord? Do I not please you anymore?" You asked quietly, suddenly feeling out of place in this bed that was too big for you.

"What?! No." Sukuna's eyes widened slightly as he abruptly stood up, pulling his haori closer together like he was cold. "What a stupid idea. Why would you think that?"

You looked up at his genuinely perplexed face, only adding to your own confusion. "Well...you haven't been around lately, and now you refuse to lay with me-"

Before you could even finish your sentence the futon was dipping from his weight beside you as he climbed in. Your face lit up at the welcome heat which always radiated from his body, sinking into your naked skin.

You turned back on your side so you could curl up as usual by his chest, waiting for him to settle in completely so that you could fall asleep - taking naps next to him in his bed was one of your favorite guilty pleasures.

Except he didn't settle in, opting to stay about an inch or two away from pressing his chest flush against your back. You realized he still hadn't taken off his haori either - odd for a man that preferred to be bare-chested most of the time.

In an almost reflexive action, you closed the small distance, finally relaxing all the way when you felt the support of his large muscular frame behind yours even though it wasn't skin to skin with all four of his arms around you like you would've ideally preferred.

But for a second you could've sworn you felt Sukuna tense, possibly even jolt slightly when you pressed yourself into his clothed chest.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes." Sukuna snapped. "Why wouldn't I be?"

You rolled your eyes where he couldn't see, faced away from him. "Then why are you being so jumpy? Are you hungry or something? Seriously, what's the ma-"

"Shhh." A large hand clamped onto your mouth, effectively muffling your chatter. "Give me some peace, just for once."

You had half a mind to nip at the skin of his palm but being here in his bed after days felt so good, too good, and you found yourself quickly becoming drowsy.

A few minutes passed by, and from the hand loosening its grip over your mouth you knew Sukuna was relaxing as well, falling into his "resting" state as he would call it (he personally believed he was above actually sleeping like humans did, and considered himself above such inane needs). You were half asleep yourself, body settling in and molding into his by instinct until you were encased by the warmth seeping from him through the fabric of his haori.

And then you felt it.

"What is that?" You sat up to find all four of Sukuna's eyes wide open.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Can you just go back to sleep?" He raised an arm to shove you back down to the pillow.

"I felt something wet on my back." You squirmed against his hold, managing to twist your torso over to face him. "Were you drooling on me?"

Sukuna scowled, huffing in indignation. "No, I did not drool on you. Do you always have to be odd, woman? You're making a fuss over absolutely nothing."

You sat up fully, about to retort back when something caught your eye.

In his agitation, Sukuna hadn't noticed a rather noticeable wet patch had formed on the breast of his haori.

"What-" Before he could say anything you yanked the collar of his robe aside, your eyes widening at the sight.

Small pearlescent beads of a liquid had formed on his skin, around a pink nipple that had puffed up slightly.

"Are you... Is that..." Before he could do anything you quickly swiped away the other side of his haori, peeling it away to find the other nipple was inflamed slightly as well, with a sheen covering it indicating that-

"You're lactati-"

Sukuna pulled his haori to cover his pecs again, another hand once again closing over your mouth to keep you from speaking. "Shut. Up. Do not say a word." He growled through a jaw clenched so tight it looked like someone had burned him.

But it was too late, an impish grin unfurled across your lips under his hand, eyes shining in mischief at the state your king was in. You swiped a tongue across his palm before biting it, not hard enough to draw blood but enough for him to quickly draw his hand back in surprise.

"Fucking- you little fucking shit. What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

You were irritatingly fast when you wanted to be, swinging a leg over his body to climb atop his lap. Now you straddled him, the smug smirk on your lips growing by the second.

"Is that-"

"Don't say it."

"-milk?!"

He slapped a hand on his face, letting out a low growl of frustration. "Yes, its milk. If you say a word about it to anyone else I'm going to slice off your tongue and make you eat it. Now leave me alone." He demanded.

But neither his sharp glare nor threats could stop you as you opened his haori to expose his chest, gentler than before this time. "Don't worry I don't intend on telling anyone. It's not like I want to share anyways."

"Share? What are you..." Sukuna caught the look on your face. "No. Don't even think about it, I am serious- ahh"

His sentence ended with the closest you've ever heard Sukuna come to whimpering as your lips descended onto the ring of his right nipple. His reaction only spurred you on, and you quickly lapped up the droplet of milk that had collected and swallowed.

You weren't sure what you expected it to taste like, but it certainly wasn't this.

It was ironic how a man as angry and violent as Sukuna produced such a lovely tasting substance. His milk was mildly sweet with a slightly bitter aftertaste, like burnt sugar in the best way possible.

So fucking good.

His hand knotted in your hair in an attempt to pry you off from his nipple but your hands were already roaming his pecs, towards the other dripping bud. You rolled it between your fingers as you laved your warm tongue around his areola, feeling his chest heave under you while he began to pant. "Stop...it. You're so fucking weird-"

You rolled your eyes up at his strained expression and gave his nipple a hard suck before he could react. More liquid filled your mouth, almost as sweet as the look on his face. You greedily swallowed, suckling harder while massaging his full pecs with your hands.

"Mhm." You hummed around his skin as you felt a shiver run down his body.

"God, have- fuck, have some... decorum, woman." Sukuna was trying so terribly hard to keep his voice steady, the feat proving itself even more difficult when you decided to do the opposite of his request and lewdly swirl your tongue around, stimulating the area so more milk would flow.

You looked up at him, eyes hazy now in ecstasy, white liquid dripping from the corners of your lips as you fed. The sight was so dirty it sent blood rushing straight to his cocks and they rapidly hardened under where you were seated.

You released your mouth, detaching it from the wet and leaking patch of skin with a gossamer strand of saliva that broke away before flashing him another devilish look.

"You love this." You teased, with a grinding of your hips for emphasis to let him know his hard-ons hadn't gone unnoticed.

"You're not doing much better yourself, slut." With an opportunity to gain a little leverage over you, he gave a pointed glance to where your pussy sat on top of his clothed cocks, drenched in your leaking arousal.

You couldn't even pretend to be ashamed, though. "I can't help it. You taste so good, and you look so cute when you're embarrassed-"

"I'm not embarrassed," He gritted, "You're just violating me like the little freak you are."

"But you liked it."

"That's enough of this nonsense, get off me."

You pouted. "But your other tit is still full."

He looked at you in disgust. "Do not call it that."

You continued looking at him as he looked conflicted, deciding between his ego and pleasure.

"Fine." He finally ceded, much to your delight. "Do the other one." This time he guided your head to his other breast. "But be gentle for fuck's sake, they're sensitive-"

Whatever lecture he was giving you about being gentle had clearly fallen on deaf ears as you immediately latched your lips around his nipple and began sucking and nipping to no abandon.

You grinded on his cocks as you drank, feeling them harden even more under you.

"Slow - ah - down,"

But you only did the opposite, working over the tender flesh like you were starved. The milk trickled down everywhere, dripping down your chin and you could make out the faintest floral notes in it. The taste of him turned you on even more and you rutted against the outlines of his hard dicks, feeling the mess you were making on his hakama under your slick skin.

"Fuck, you filthy girl." The grip in your hair tightened, releasing an involuntary moan from your lips against his chest amidst the obscenely wet noises of your mouth. "I'm - fuck, fuck-"

Sukuna's hips jerked up, taking you by surprise as you felt his cocks twitching violently before his whole body stiffened as he bit down on his lips to keep himself from moaning out loud. Finally after a few seconds his muscles laxed, leaving you confused for a second before you felt the sticky, hot liquid soaking through his hakama and onto your thighs.

You smiled cheekily upon realizing, "Did you just..."

The look he was giving you was straight up murderous, and might have been enough to actually scare you if it weren't for the flustered pink that tinted his cheeks.

"Stop using your mouth to yap, and put it to use for once." He smirked, regaining his composure and though he'd already came his dicks weren't entirely soft yet beneath you. "Clean it up- since you love milk so much."

It was your turn to feel heat creep into your cheeks as the dynamic shifted and you understood you were being put back into your place with how he was grinning down at you. It didn't help the throbbing between your own legs.

You shifted down till your head was between his massive thighs, pulling off the hakama till his cocks were uncovered, still somewhat hard with blushed tips still sticky with drying cum. A hand wove into your hair, collecting it into a ponytail and lifting it to the side so he could get a good view as you eyes the viscous liquid smeared across the skin on his dicks and pelvis.

You stuck your tongue out, beginning with a single swipe through some of the liquid that had pooled on his skin above his top cock to taste it.

Salty.

It kind of complemented his milk, you thought.

This taste was one you were familiar with, though you loved it just the same. It showed in how you devotedly lapped at his skin, caressing it and closing your eyes to savor the taste of him on your tongue.

He breathed out at the sensation, running his fingers through your hair as he pet you. "Such a needy little cumslut." He purred. "Look at how greedily you drink my milk and my cum. And you were asking me if I was hungry?"

You squeezed your thighs together, trying to alleviate some of pulsing in your clit with the uncomfortable amount of wetness that had collected there. But the ache was too much, distracting you from cleaning the mess on his skin.

You looked up at him, eyes brimming with frustrated lust.

"What's the matter, pet? I didn't tell you to stop."

"I...need to cum. I don't think I can hold on any longer." You admitted breathlessly, looking up at him through your lashes as innocently as you could manage so that he'd forget about how you'd agonized him earlier and show some mercy.

You were met with a wolfish grin. "After what you pulled? I'm not laying a finger on your cunt. Figure it out yourself." He twisted your hair around his fist, shoving your head back down. "And get back to doing what I told you, slut. Do you have a problem following instructions?"

You bit your tongue, feeling irritated and unsatisfied even though you knew damn well you had this coming. You rubbed against his silken sheets as you bent over to go back to licking drying pools of his cum, sure you'd were making a mess on the fabric which provided no relief at all. Your hands roamed, fingertips skimming across the tops of his muscular thighs, tracing the dark tatted band that encircled them when the idea hit you.

You eagerly lifted your own leg to straddle a well toned quad, mouth leaving his skin for a second as you whined at the feel of his burning skin against your sex.

"I figured...it out...ahh, fuck." You bragged through small whimpers and moans as you grinded your sopping cunt onto the planes of muscle that adorned his thigh, tilting your pelvis forward so that your clit could rub deliciously along the firm curves.

Sukuna watched you hungrily, drinking in the sight of you getting off so brazenly on his thigh. "You're so fucking pathetic, you know that?"

"Mhm." You absentmindedly agreed, unable to care enough right now to preserve your dignity because of how good it felt. You dipped your head against and went back to sucking and licking the skin on and around his shaft, tongue dragging along in messy stripes as you humped his leg relentlessly, already feeling your pent up orgasm rearing its head.

"Just like that. Do I taste good, pet?" Sukuna asked though the both of you already knew the answer.

"Yes, yes! So fucking good." You babbled against his skin, desperately trying to get every last drop of his seed, wishing he still had more milk to spare.

He clenched his muscles and the sudden movement against your clit caused your orgasm to finally crash down on you, leaving you slack jawed and wide eyed at how sinfully good it felt.

You rode out your high, hips undulating back and forth until finally the last wave of your climax left your body limp. You collapsed onto his chest catching your breath.

When you felt yourself coming back to your senses, you crawled up to his chest and slapped a pec, earning a strangled noise from him. "So when are these things gonna fill back up?"

[chleem]

Not a big deal pt4

miniseries; basketball player drew x high scl student reader

Summary: You lose your virginity to a random guy at a frat party miles away from your home. A few days later, you find out that he’s your brother’s competitor, for the regional colleges’ basketball tournament. 

Genre: strangers to lovers, smut, angst, fluff

Warnings: cursing, age gap (18 & 24), protected sex (read at own caution

⋆.˚ please dont copy or translate my work!

♡⸝⸝ p3 | index | p5

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The ringing of your phone jolts you awake, no longer dreaming. 

Your head throbs, the bright sunlight seeping through the curtains only adding to the ache. The loud ring of your phone makes it hard to focus, and for a moment, you can’t quite piece together where you are.

But the arm wrapped around you reminds you of just where you are, and who you’re with. 

Slowly turning your face, you find yourself looking into Drew’s. He’s asleep, completely unaware to the loud ringing. His features are relaxed, eyelids closed, his breathing slow, and a small smile sits on his face. 

What is he dreaming about?

You focus on memorizing every inch of Drew’s face, studying the soft lines, the way his lashes rest against his skin, the gentle curve of his lips. 

A strange mix of disbelief and nostalgia swells inside you. He looks so much like the Drew from four years ago—the one you lost your virginity to. 

Part of you wonders if he’s still that same person, or if he’s changed just as much as you have.

Your phone quiets down eventually, your caller giving up. 

Well, at least you thought so. The ringing comes back, and this time, it causes Drew to flutter his eyes open. He rubs his eyes, yawning as he focuses his gaze to you. The small curve of his lips from earlier is replaced with a grin that stretches ear-to-ear, and his eyes hold a lazy look.

“Morning, baby,” his voice is deeper in the morning, a raspy coat layered on.

You mirror his smile, the nickname causing your heart to skip a beat, “morning.”

“How long have you been staring?”

“The whole night,” you teasingly say, which earns a low chuckle from him.

“No wonder I had a nightmare,” he jokes back, his arm going around you once again and pulling you close. He nudges his face into your neck, a groan escaping probably from the loud ringing phone, “who’s calling?”

You frown, your hand reaching behind you for your phone on the nightstand. 

You glance at the screen, Luke. Your brother? Why on earth is he calling now?

“I just woke up,” you say, forcing out a groan, trying to sound as casual as possible. You can hear Luke moving around on the other end of the line—his footsteps shuffling. 

“Shit, were you in a fucking coma? Open the fucking door.”

What. 

Your heart sinks at the sudden shift in his tone, a sharp tension filling your chest. That last part… Open the door?

You push Drew away, immediately sitting up. “Um, what do you mean-“

“I’m outside your room. Did you not hear, I rang the-“

The rest of Luke’s words fly by your ear. You were wide awake now, the weight of the situation sinking in. 

Luke’s outside of your door. Drew’s naked in your bed. 

You know Luke. You know how he reacts to things like this. And it’s not going to be pretty. His temper is explosive, like a ticking time bomb waiting to go off.

You cover your microphone, and whisper to Drew, “get. out.”

“What?” Drew chuckles, his voice dropping to a softer tone, confused by your sudden urgency. “Why are we whispering?”

Right after, Luke stops himself mid-sentence, his voice cutting through the line, sharp and loaded with suspicion. “…wait, are you with someone?”

“Get out,” you slap Drew’s arm to get him moving, mouthing the words, “Luke’s outside!”

Drew’s eyes widen the same way yours did before. He stumbles off the bed, catching himself just before he crashes to the floor. It would be funny if you weren’t on the risk of getting caught by your brother. “No, just, just give me a minute, yeah? I’m getting ready-“

You get out of bed too, the phone propped on your shoulder. Drew and your clothes are scattered around the floor, mixed together.

You put the phone on speaker, setting it on the nightstand as Luke's complaining echoes through the room. Quickly, you put on your nightgown, searching for a clean pair of underwear.

You glance at Drew. He’s in his boxers, scrambling to find his pants. Is he trying to get caught? “Hurry,” you whisper-yell, looking around for his clothes.

Drew shoots you a blank stare, moving to the other side of the bed.

“Are you done yet? My legs are dying-“

“Almost! Just wait, okay?” You yell back at the phone.

“Y/n, seriously, been out here for forever-“

You find his button-up from last night tucked under the couch, and you toss into his arms. A chuckle escapes his lips as he barely catches it. 

Drew walks past you with his shirt unbuttoned, tie and jacket in his hands. He grabs his shoes, and gets ready to open the door. 

You quickly pull him back, “are you stupid?” You mean that with all your heart; Luke is literally on the other side of the door, and he wants to open it? 

Instead, you swing open the bathroom door and shove Drew inside. "Stay here for a while, alright?”

"What, no—“

You slam the bathroom door shut without another word, then quickly turn to the front door, your hand already on the handle. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves before facing Luke. 

Forcing a smile, the door opens, impatience written all over Luke’s face. “Finally,” he mutters, brushing past you. His rudeness isn’t a surprise—it’s just how he is.

You mumble something under your breath, closing the door behind you. Luke’s already sprawled out on your couch, legs propped up casually like he owns the place.

At the same time, both of you spot the wine glasses on the coffee table, their presence suddenly hanging in the air, adding a layer of tension you can’t ignore.

“Alright, where is he?” Luke asks, his voice low but demanding as he sits up, scanning the room to find the owner of the other glass. 

Your first instinct is to stop him from getting anywhere near the bathroom. You quickly sit down beside Luke, your hand pushing him back onto the couch. “It’s... yours,” you say, the words coming out quicker than it should. 

Luke looks at you, confusion flickering in his eyes, then down at the wine glass, before he narrows his gaze. “What are you talking about?” he asks, his tone sharp now, sensing- no, knowing something's off. 

“Y’know, it’s a nice hotel, let’s have some coffee,” you say, a lame attempt at sounding casual. You grab the glasses, and with the coffee maker in the small kitchen, you press the open button. 

Sneaking a glance at your brother, his gaze never leaves you, his tongue poking against his tongue. 

“Latte? Oh, they have espresso,” you continue, keeping your voice steady, scrolling through the options. 

“No,” his voice stops you, and you turn around, watching as he gets up. “I gotta leave anyways.”

This time, the smile on your face isn’t fake. “So soon?”

“Yeah, just came to check on you,” Luke gives you a tight smile, his hand reaching for the door handle. “I’ll send an Uber, ‘kay?”

You nod, a bit too eagerly that shows your interest in him leaving. 

Although still suspicious, Luke gives you one last glance before opening the door and stepping out. “Take care of yourself,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost like he's unsure of what to make of the situation.

The door clicks shut behind him, and for a moment, all you can do is breathe, your shoulders relaxing for the first time since he walked in. 

Finally. 

Opening the bathroom door, you look around for Drew. 

Only to find him laying in the bathtub, fully clothed, his tall figure awkwardly trying to fit in the small space. His arms are thrown out to either side, and his fingers fidget with his ring. 

You lean against the doorframe, and when his blue eyes peek at you, a smile appears on his lips. “Hey,” he says, “made myself a home here, I guess.”

You chuckle at his words, and you sit down at the edge of the tub. “Real comfortable there.”

Drew lets out a breathy laugh, shifting lightly. He glances at his watch, the smile fading just a bit, “I’ve got to go too.”

Right, team practice. 

A brief, almost impulsive thought crosses your mind—to ask him for his number, to stay in touch. Is that a ridiculous thought? You’re not sure. You’re not even sure why the idea is lingering, but it feels... right, somehow. Maybe because, despite everything, you don’t want this moment to end so soon.

At least, not with this Drew. 

Your chain of thoughts breaks, with a tough tug on your wrist. 

When you’ve come to your senses, you’re in the tub with him, seated in his lap. 

The warmth radiating off of him is ridiculously comfortable, the blue eyes almost smitten as they look into yours. 

You lean into him, closing your eyes, instinctively tilting your face toward his. You can feel the breath between you both, the tension building, and just as you’re about to close the distance—nothing.

No contact.

You peek at him through one eye, a little confused.

A throaty laugh escapes him, full of amusement. 

Shyly, you move away, only to be pulled back towards him, his hand finding the back of your neck. 

And then, he finally kisses you, gentle yet affectionate. 

It feels different than last night; The kiss feels deeper, more meaningful, and the thought that it might end soon makes your chest tighten with an ache. 

To last longer, you rest your arms around his neck, thrusting your tongue deeper into his mouth. 

Another chuckle escapes Drew, and he pulls away this time. 

With hooded eyes, you catch the soft smile on his lips. “Tryna get me in trouble?” The teasing tone in his voice makes your stomach flutter, along with the way he stares at you. 

“Maybe,” you giggle, and with a roll of your hips against him, he groans, his hands squeezing your waist. He rests his head at the rim of the tub, and you take the chance to kiss his neck. 

“Could be late-“ his words come out hushed, as your tongue grazes over the soft skin of his neck, “a minute or two.”

“Mmhm,” you bring your lips back up to his, and you kiss him again, this time, hungry and demanding. Your hips roll against his, and you could feel his boner poking your inner thigh. 

Your heart speeds up at the thought of doing it right here with Drew, in the bathtub. 

One of his hand slips under your nightgown; kneading your ass. 

It’s the way his blue eyes lustfully stare up at yours, that you continue rubbing your pussy against his lower abdomen. 

Drew readjusts his position, to allow the dent in his pants to rub closer to your wet pussy, your hips riding off the closeness. His low grunts sounds like music to your ears, the occasional rise of his hips offering more satisfaction to your core. 

“You like that?” Drew's voice, low and raspy, breaks the noise of soft moans and grunts, as his hand gently tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Grinding on my cock?”

Fuck. Your brain races with the thoughts of last night, his cock buried deeply in you. The hard length fucking the senses out of you. 

“Drew…” you moan out, sounding more desperate than expected. Your hands clutch on his suit jacket in tight fists, bouncing yourself on his clothed length. 

A breathless chuckle leaves his mouth, his other hand resting at the back of your neck. You feel the rough and cold material of his ring against your jaw, his thumb grazing the skin of your bottom lip. 

“Don’t stop, baby,” he coos, and you feel his dick twitch beneath you. The subtle movement sends your mind into further frenzy, encouraging the orgasm building inside of you. 

Ring! Ring! Ring! 

This time, the sound comes from inside the bathroom, in the tub, the phone that lays beside Drew’s thigh. 

You don’t even glance at it, consumed with building your orgasm. 

He’s not gonna answer anyways-

Drew picks it up, a mischievous grin on his face. “Hey,” he breathes into the phone. 

A moan escapes your lips, and he sticks two fingers into your mouth, deep until it hits the back of your throat. Gagging, you cough out, which makes Drew chuckle softly, a mumbled “sorry” escaping his lips, followed by a quiet, ‘shhh.’

You feel a knot grow in your lower stomach, as he raises his hips and thrusts into yours. You suck at the fingers in your mouth, the ring rubbing against your cheek. 

“Nothing- I’m working out,” he forces out, speaking into the phone. There’s a certain thrill in his voice, a hint of excitement that lingers as he speaks. 

He couldn’t be honest and say currently having your sister ride against my cock.

Although, the thought turns him on more, and he feels another twitch down at his dick.

“Mhm,” he hums mindlessly into the phone, leaning his head back. His mouth parts in awe, forcing his eyes to stay open. 

The hand on your ass grips tighter, averting all the desire to moan there. 

Whimpering against his fingers, you feel the knot inside of you come undone, the warm juice flowing out and definitely staining your underwear. 

You stop sucking his fingers, and you send him a lazy smile, your hips moving slower to ride your orgasm out. When you glance down at his pants, you can see the light stain, yours or his unsure. 

“What, no-“ his brows furrow together, listening in on whoever’s on the other line. 

You move back further until you’re no longer on his lap; tilting your head to study his face. 

But Drew’s hand catches yours, and guides it to the bulge in his pants. He’s still hard. 

You almost moan at the feeling of his thick length underneath your fingertips, Drew stifling back moans too. 

With that, your hands work its magic; palming and massaging his dick, as Drew tries his best to listen intently on the phone. 

“Mhm, yeah,” he agrees into the phone, his voice hitching slightly to hold back moans. You chuckle quietly at that, your hands continuing its touching of his clothed length. 

His hand reaches for you once more, and when you straddle his waist again, it slides to the back of your neck. His lips crash against yours almost desperately, as if he couldn’t get enough. 

Your hands cup his face, kissing him back with the same urgency. 

Drew groans into your lips, but not before hanging up on the phone. It drops inside the tub, the loud thud ignored by the both of you. 

His orgasm flows through him; the liquid spilling out onto his boxer briefs. 

The kiss breaks, and you both lean your foreheads together, gasping for air.

It’s silent, only the distant sound of AC running. 

Then, a breathless laugh slips from you as you process what just happened.

“Who were you calling?” You ask, genuinely curious. Your thumb rubs circles on his cheek, a smirk tugging on the corner of his lips. 

There’s the same mischievous glint in his blue eyes, causing your stomach to twist slightly. “Best if you didn’t know,” he murmurs, his grip on your waist tightening as he straightens up.

You furrow your brows, ready to ask him more. 

“You wanna have lunch together?" His suddenly asks, his voice softening. 

The question catches you off guard. You pull back slightly, meeting his gaze, your mind racing. Is it... a date? Of course it is. But... is that what you really want? 

Well, four years ago you would’ve loved to go out with a dude named Drew.

But the reminder of your brother meeting with you later flashes by. 

“Can’t,” you shrug apologetically at him, as the hand on the back of your neck starts to play with your necklace. 

Having some fun of your own, you run your hands through his hair, the short strands brushing against your fingers. “Okay…dinner,” Drew suggests instead. 

His blue eyes now stare pleadingly into yours, biting on his lower lip as he silently waits for your answer. 

Okay. You’re leaving tomorrow night, it wouldn’t hurt to have a private meal with him. 

You nod, reaching up to gently pull his lip away from his teeth, a soft smile tugging at your own.

The look in his eyes softens, a hint of curiosity flickering as he leans in a little closer. His hands leave you, reaching for his phone. ”Number?” he asks, his voice barely a whisper. Just as you’re about to tell him, he adds, “not your brother’s, though.”

Your eyes furrow at his comment; what’s that supposed to mean?

But he just shakes his head, finding his own joke amusing, “no- never mind. Go ahead.”

Slowly, you tell him his number, and soon enough, you hear your own phone ringing in the background. 

“Thanks, I’ll text you,” he kisses your cheek, gently shifting you off of him, “now, I really need to go.”

You watch as he gets up, and you immediately miss his warmth. He gets out the tub first, but not before turning around to offer his hand. 

You smile at the simple yet soft gesture, and take it, letting him help you out the tub. 

“I might see you later,” you tell him, as Drew leads you along with him, to the door. 

“Really?” Drew’s hand catches the door handle, pushing it open. He turns back to face you, and with your hand still in his, he takes the opportunity to place a gentle kiss there. “I’m looking forward to that already.”

Why can’t he just skip practice? 

“Alright,” you smile, taking your hand out of his, patting down the roughed part of his suit jacket, “get out of here.”

His lips curve into a half-smile, and he gives a playful shrug as he takes a step back. "Bossy," he teases, his voice light but warm, “see you.”

The soft click of the door closing echoes in the quiet room.

 With your back against the door, you slide down to the floor, your legs pulling up as you wrap your arms around them.

Blush creeps onto your cheeks as your mind races, replaying the moments with Drew—the look in his eyes, the feel of his lips on your skin, the way he seemed so different, yet so familiar.

You close your eyes, leaning your head against the door, trying to shake off the warmth still lingering in your chest.

Why does it feel like there's more to it than just... whatever that was? You can’t quite put your finger on it, but you know one thing for sure: this wasn’t how you imagined your visit here to be like.

——

You’ve never been to a real basketball stadium before. 

At first, the staff was unexpectedly rude, shutting you down before you even had a chance to introduce yourself. Just as things seemed hopeless, the manager stepped in, recognizing your name and quickly handing you a ‘visitor’ badge.

He guides you through narrow corridors, until you make it into a more promising section of the place. The air was filled with the scent of fresh gear, and before you knew it, you passed by one of the locker rooms. You catch a brief glimpse inside - a few tall, fit, shirtless dudes who walked around, chatting away. 

Even at your grown-up age, seeing half-naked guys still made you fluster, averting your gaze. 

Following the manager, the path leads to a visible court ahead, the bright lights blinding into the small tunnel. The loud sounds of dribbling and sneakers squeaking against the hardwood floor echo, growing louder with each step. 

Stepping out the tunnel, the staff leads you to the front seats, finding one that isn’t occupied by towels or bags. 

Something about an empty stadium with only its players sends a weird feeling to your brain - the scene surreal somehow. 

“Thank you,” you smile at him, who just nods, walking away. 

Sitting down on the black leathered seat, you look out at the court, taking in the players currently practicing. 

Your instincts kick in, and you scan the floor— spotting Drew, even with his team members running around and dribbling. He's easy to find, his tall frame and confident stride standing out as he lines up for a three-pointer. 

The ball leaves his hands with a smooth flick, arcing toward the hoop, and you watch as it swishes through the net. 

Shit. It’s the way he nonchalantly grabs another ball from the rack, dribbles it once, twice, before casually sinking another three-pointer, his expression completely unbothered that gets you. Other than your heart, something else is throbbing inside of you. 

Like magnets, your eyes focus solely on Drew, even more when you realize the waistband of Calvin Klein peeking out from his shorts. And of course, the v-line that follows-

Thwack!

A ball hits you square in the face, snapping you out of your trance. The sharp impact leaves you blinking, momentarily stunned. 

Slowly, pain creeps into your right jaw, mostly centered there. 

Great. Sitting down for what, not even five minutes? 

As you raise your hand to your face, trying to steady yourself from the blow, the blurry figure of a man slowly comes into focus. He looks flustered as he stammers an apology, but you don’t respond. The pain in your jaw is all-consuming, your head still spinning from the unexpected hit.

“What the fuck, man!”

The loud yell of your brother cuts through the stadium, sharp and full of anger. You don’t even have time to react before he’s charging toward you, his face red. Without hesitation, he roughly shoves the man in front of you, sending him stumbling back a few steps. 

For fuck’s sake, your brother’s outrage might be more frustrating than being hit by a ball…. Does he always have to cause a scene? What a drama queen. 

Even with the pain radiating through your jaw, you manage to drag your hand up and pull the edge of Luke’s shorts. The movement is slow, but it’s enough to make him turn around immediately.

“Shit, y/n, you okay?” He tones his voice down, his features softening as he sits down beside you. 

The lights above you start to drown out; which was because of the crowd gathering around you. They pretend to take a break- but everyone knows it’s to catch a glimpse of a fight threatening to erupt between Luke and his teammate. 

The ache is unbearable, and yet you still manage to lock eyes with Luke. Through clenched teeth, you choke out, “you idiot.”

Luke's eyes widen, guilt flooding his features. Hesitating, his hand hovers near your shoulder, unsure of what to do. 

“Get me an ice pack, dummy,” you rasp, voice thick with frustration. 

Luke winces at your tone, and you catch the muffled laughter from his teammates. 

“Okay, okay,” he mutters, “I’ll get it.” He hurries off, without another word. 

The guy that hit you with the ball apologies once again, and you reassure that you’re okay. Your eyes drift over to the other players, who immediately pretend to be busy with something else. 

You sigh, closing your eyes, as you lean back into the chair. The noise and ruffling of bags fade away as you focus on the pain, trying to relieve it. You place your hands in your lap, relaxing yourself. 

But not even a minute in, a soothing, familiar voice brings you back. 

“Hey baby,”

You crack your eyes open, and there he is, standing in front of you, a concerned smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His blue eyes stare down at you, the gleam in them brighter than the stadium lights. 

Drew.

Your brain immediately replays the scenes of this morning— his lips against yours, his hands all over you, and the call during the…sex? 

He doesn’t wait for an answer; simply sits down beside you, his presence warm and steady. You can feel the tension in his body as he watches you carefully, fidgeting with his hands that lay on his lap. 

The uncontrollable ache in your chest isn’t from the pain, but rather nervous. Fuck. He probably saw the whole process of Luke getting mad! Now you’re embarrassed. Your face is definitely swollen, red, ugly-

“Um, I’ve been hit…multiple times too,” he carefully starts, and you avert your gaze to his face, locking eyes with him. “Ice packs don’t, really work.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him, your lips in a small frown as you wonder where he’s going with this.

His eyes flicker to his teammates, who are clearly stealing glances at the two of you. The quiet murmurs around you seem to make him shift slightly, though, and suddenly, you’re acutely aware of the space between you two. His body scoots closer, letting his knee rests against yours.

The contact is casual, but it sends an unexpected jolt of warmth through you. You catch yourself glancing down at where your legs meet.

His voice lowers just a touch, teasing, “kissing…much better.”

You blink, caught off-guard by his words. The smirk on his lips only deepens, his gaze locked on yours. “Official recommendation?” You manage to say, reflecting the teasing tone back at him. 

He shrugs, sending you an air-kiss, his lips pursed in a playful manner. “Worked in the past.”

“And how many…have you offered?” You jokingly ask, a small smile now present on your lips, as your body relaxes itself in his presence. 

Now it’s Drew’s turn, taken aback by your reply. You giggle at that, as he licks his lips, nodding slowly. He rests an arm over the back of your seat, fingers brushing your back and burning the skin there. 

“You caught me,” Drew says, readjusting his hips to angle his body inches closer (even more close; if that’s even possible) to you. “…just wanted to kiss you…again.”

The words are barely above a whisper, but you hear it. 

You swallow, trying to keep the flutter in your chest under control, but the soft touches he starts giving on your back makes it hard. His fingers rub circles on the bare skin that your top doesn’t cover; making your heart skip a beat. 

It feels like you’re back in high school again, a silly crush. 

Or rather, the specific crush you had on the Drew from WCU. 

Drew’s gaze flicks down to your lips for a moment, a slight shift in his expression that’s almost too subtle to notice — but you catch it. His eyes meet yours again, and you can sense a change, something a little deeper in his look now, less playful and more... intent.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice now softer, changing the topic. The teasing from before has faded, replaced by something a little more earnest. “Feeling better, at least?”

“Yes,” you reply with a smile. The pain was long forgotten since he sat down. “Thank you.”

He shakes his head lightly, before muttering, “as long as you’re okay,” the sincerity in his voice palpable. You feel a strange warmth spreading in your chest, the kind that makes you forget all the chaos around you. 

“Um, do you like the place I sent?” Drew changes the topic, and you quickly understand what he’s referencing—he texted you with an address earlier, just before practice. A restaurant that looks like it belongs in a hidden corner of an old European city. 

You get ready to say yes, that it’s great, but of course, your eyes drift over his shoulder, and you see the faint image of Luke running over. 

The moment- over, just like that. 

You quickly look away from Drew, and sensing the change, he sits up, adjusting his position away from you. His hand back in his lap, his knee no longer resting against yours; he creates an invisible border between you two. 

It stings for a moment; but your brother reaching you distracts it. 

“Here,” Luke hands you the ice pack, breathing heavily. You take it, placing it against your jaw as Luke’s eyes flicker over to Drew beside you, acting nonchalant.  “Starkey.”

Drew looks up at the call of his last name, a tight smile on his lips, “yeah?”

“In my seat,” Luke replies, his voice casual but the tone carrying an underlying edge, even though the other seat beside you was empty. 

To which, Drew glances over your shoulder, at the said seat. But Luke doesn’t follow his gaze. Instead, his eyes stay locked on Drew, and you can almost feel the tension between them, thick and unspoken. Drew's posture shifts slightly, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s going to protest.

But he doesn’t.

With a small shrug, Drew stands up, walking past Luke to the court. He doesn’t turn around for another glance; and joins another teammate to practice. 

Luke drops to the chair that was previously occupied, and his body relaxes, his features softening. “You alright?” He asks again. 

“Took you long enough,” you complain instead, turning your body towards the court. Unknowingly you had your body shifted over to Drew when he was still sitting here. 

Luke doesn’t react; his glare enough to melt the ice pack. “I could get him benched, y’know?” 

You glance at him, surprised by the seriousness in his tone. "What?" You ask, raising an eyebrow, your heart sinking slightly. “Drew? He was just checking up on me-“

“Smith, the one that hit you.”

Oh. 

Well, unless it was Drew, you truly cared less. 

“No, Luke, it was an accident,” you shrug, trying to sound sincere. Your eyes follow Drew on the court, as he successfully jumps and bats the ball out of the other player’s hands. 

“Yeah…no,” Luke mutters, clear that he’s definitely telling the coach. His eyes follow your gaze, and he pokes your shoulder roughly to get your attention. Tearing your eyes away from Drew, you send him a glare. “What did, uh, Drew talk to you about?”

“Oh, um,” you stutter slightly, but ultimately shrug, playing it casually, “he asked if I was fine. That’s all.”

Luke looks at you, clearly not persuaded. 

“Nothing big,” you add on, sending him a smile. 

The ice pack starts to melt in your hands, and noticing it, Luke reaches over to a bag (probably his) and takes a towel out. He hands it to you, but you just narrow your eyes at it, unsure. 

“Relax; it’s unused,” Luke says, and reluctantly you take it. You wrap it around the ice pack, putting it on your jaw again. “I don’t think so- Starkey’s full of shit.”

“More than you?” You tease, earning another poke on your shoulder from him. 

A part of you wanted to know what your brother meant; another part of you didn’t. Even if he was an asshole, you didn’t want to know. At least, not now, when it’s your vacation, and this lovely dream is washing over you. 

“I’m hungry,” you cut whatever Luke wants to say, standing up. “Is the, I don’t know, food court open?” 

Luke watches you stand, a teasing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watches you, clearly weighing whether or not he should push further. But you can tell he’s deciding against it.

“Nah, that shit’s ass,” he says, a smile tugging on his lips as he stands up. He throws an arm over you, adding extra weight to your shoulders. “I’know a place.”

The strong smell of his sweat hits you; the aftermath of practicing all morning. Your face scrunches up in disgust, as he leads you to the tunnels again, “shower first, you smell like shit.”

He laughs, unfazed, and squeezes your shoulder. 

And as the two of you walk towards the locker rooms, Drew watches, his eyes lingering just a second too long. 

——

The lack of effort your brother brings truly is, amazing. Blows your mind every. time. 

The restaurant he brings you to is the same one as last night, expect well, it’s noon, menu’s different, and oh, you’re sitting outside. 

“Anything else?” The waitress says, as she bats her eyelashes over at your brother. 

With a cocky grin on his face, he gestures the waitress to lean forward. And when she does, he whispers in her ear, causing her to nod enthusiastically. Great, now he’s even flirting with the staff. 

“Food will arrive shortly,” she shyly says, walking away. 

Once she’s gone, the discontent is evident on your face, the frown deepening as you cross your arms. “Seriously?” You almost bark at him, causing him to flinch. 

“What?” He shrugs, oblivious to your frustration. 

“It’s the same place as last night,” you tell him, gesturing around. 

“…that’s why we’re here,” Luke says, with that stupid grin on his face, “Hawk players eat here free.”

Your eyebrows furrow deeper at his words, your gaze shifting to the stunning garden view. Now that you’re really looking at it, the place is beautiful—a secret little oasis that could’ve come straight out of a fairytale.

It’s Luke’s rough kick under the table that snaps you back to reality, your attention shifting to him as he gives you a…rather serious look. 

“So who were you fucking last night?”

“Luke!” You whisper-yell at him, glancing around. Okay, not a lot of people sitting outside. “You can’t just ask that-“

“C’mon, I’m not a fucking idiot,” he interrupts, leaning back in his chair. It’s clear he didn’t buy whatever you said this morning, his eyes scanning you with the annoying know-it-all look. “You forgot how well I know you, y/n.”

With a roll of your eyes, you press your lips together. No way were you telling him. 

Luke scratches his eyebrow, a frown taking over his face. He falls quiet, clearly lost in thought, before his eyes light up with some idea. “How about this…a secret for a secret?”

How ridiculous. This isn’t some middle school game.

“Luke, forget it, I’m not telling you who it was.”

“Ha! So you were with someone,” he exclaims, gently tapping the table. 

Your shoulders drop in exasperation, and you give him a seriously? look. 

Maybe because it’s the first time (other than Zack) that your brother has actually caught you with someone. The thought makes you cringe, the idea of him knowing about that part of your personal life. It’s always been a no-go zone, same for him. 

You open your mouth to tell him off, but he starts his own conversation. 

“I fucking hate Drew Starkey.”

The sudden mention of his name catches you off guard, and you freeze, the words hanging in the air. The change in your brother’s demeanor is immediate—his usual cocky attitude replaced with something colder, sharper. It’s unsettling.

However, can’t help but think, Okay…so he is sharing a secret. 

“What?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper, unsure whether you actually want to know more. You’d already cut him off earlier, back at the court.

“I tried…I tried liking him, and shit, it’s impossible,” Luke laughs, running a hand through his hair. “I guess I’m still petty after all these years, but-“

His eyes meet yours, and seeing how confused you are, his tensed features relax slightly. He looks at you like you're missing something obvious, like he’s just about to reveal a truth you've been blind to.

“Do you not fucking recognize him?”

You swallow hard, feeling your stomach tighten. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen your brother truly hate someone, different from his usual short-tempered self. 

“Fuck- he’s the guy I lost the championship to? WCU? Setting my career back-“

His words fade into the background, replaced by a loud sting in your mind. 

You blink, feeling the weight of the conversation pressing down on you as you slowly sink back into your seat. The cool surface of the chair feels oddly grounding against the storm of thoughts swirling in your head.

Drew—that Drew, the one who had been your brother's rival, the one he'd spent years trying to beat—the one you lost your virginity to. 

The one…you slept with last night. Fuck- that’s why he looks so familiar! The face, his attitude, his jokes- shit. 

The memories come rushing in, vivid and jagged, each one like a slap in the face. 

You can almost hear the loud music from that frat party, the sound of Drew's voice as he took away your first time - when he rejected you. 

“I really like you,” he suddenly admits. 

“But you don’t want me,” you say, finding his sudden confession really stupid, not at all flattering to hear. 

“Don’t say that.”

“But that’s what you said.”

“Do you like me too?”

You blink again, trying to steady your breath, but the air feels thick. 

Your chest tightens, the pressure of everything unsaid between you and Drew settling heavily on your shoulders.

You’ve always thought you were over it—over Drew, over that night, over everything. But the realization hits you now, sharp and unexpected: you weren’t.

You force yourself to focus on Luke’s voice again, but it’s like you’re hearing it underwater. Everything feels muffled, distorted. 

“I mean, every time I see that fucking face, I just wanna-“

Shit. Tonight. Your date with Drew. 

“-Worse, coach thinks we’re ‘prefect’ together, so I always have to look out for him-“

You no longer have the courage to meet him, the confidence you’ve gathered all destroyed, shattered by your own thoughts. It’s as if every word Luke says is a reminder of how messy everything with Drew really is.

“Fuck- I deserved that win more than anything,” he mumbles on, pettiness written all over his face. 

Luke’s words echo in your mind, but you don’t respond. 

Your thoughts are loud enough to drown out everything else.

——

Drew sits on the edge of the fountain, just outside the restaurant. The stone surface feels cool beneath him as he stares at the water, the soft ripples catching the dim light.

It’s been nearly thirty minutes, and ever so often, his eyes flicker upward, searching for any sign of you. He’s trying to steady his nerves, but the longer he waits, the more the uncertainty gnaws at him.

Did you stand him up?

He checks his phone screen again- hundreds of texts but none from you. 

A bitter smile tugs at his lips as he stares down at his lap, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all. He’s just here, waiting, when the answer is so painfully obvious.

“Not a big deal,” Drew mutters to himself, trying to convince his racing thoughts otherwise. He repeats the words again, more firm this time, “not, a big deal.”

He sighs, his eyes darting around as he avoids the curious stares of passersby. The minutes drag on, each one heavier than the last. He waits. waits. and waits.

But you never show up.

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

word count: 6.5k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: FINALLY. i sat down, stared at my laptop, and the words just exploded out of me. sorry i took so long T_T be a bae and ignore any typos xo

do you guys like smaller or bigger fonts? just found out how it change it, and must say, damnnnn. the difference it makes is crazy.

[harmeu]

ARGUMENTS 

(HSR X READER) (ANGST)

(Amphoreus Men)

(GN!READER)

MYDEI: (His devotion to his fight which results in neglect.)

You couldn’t remember the last time you and your beloved spouse had talked to each other. It was as if Mydei’s mind was constantly on things that neglected you heavily. Even a simple “How are you today”  would’ve been enough at this point. It hurt a lot. As if millions of daggers pierced you everytime Mydei walked past without saying anything. You were his lover for God’s sake.

Mydei was in the training room punching dummies with ease, letting them break into shards as they thumped onto the ground, his knuckles bleeding heavily from the constant fight.

You stepped in peeking through the small opening of the door with your wide gaze contemplating to yourself if you should walk in and say something or not. 

Eventual acceptance of the option ‘yes’ overthrew your mind so you walked in and Mydei’s keen senses picked up on it immediately.

“What is it.” His gruff reply made it sound like he was annoyed. (Which he probably was.) 

“You’ve been busy lately.” You mumbled out moving from one foot to another a bit nervous to how he was going to reply.

“Of course I am. You know my duties.” Mydei went back to smashing his fists against the solid wooden dummies as you winced at the sight and decided to walk up, up to him.

“I miss you.” You murmured out making Mydei freeze slightly and you could’ve sworn he softened. But as fast as it came it vanished. Mydei was back to his tense state. 

“You should know everything I deal with in a singular day.”

“But I’m your lover!” You exclaimed out flinching at your own tone of voice and words making Mydei turn looking at you in your eye for the first time. 

“That doesn’t matter.” He huffed out. Okay wow. Now it was your turn to be cruel.

“No wonder everyone finds you difficult.” You spat back leaving the door slamming heavily making the walls vibrate as Mydei stared dumbfounded at the shut door clenching his fists.

PHANION: (Accusations that result in anger.)

Phanion was a gentle soul with you. The perfect boyfriend in your eyes. Though as days passed you had a weird gut feeling. As if he was talking to someone other than you. Not possible. Right. The constant ‘they’re just a friend’ sounded like a lie. But you didn’t have any proof. Not yet at least.

Phanion was sitting on your local bench quietly reading as you walked up to him with a half lidded gaze of suspicion. Feeling your hard gaze Phanion sighed, shutting his book and standing up to match your height.

“Don’t give me that look.” Phanion murmured frowning with a pained expression on his face making you feel a hint of guilt. 

“It’s just that you’re constantly not letting me meet your friends at all. As if you’re hiding something from me.” Your fists clenched, eyeing up at Phanion as he narrowed his own gaze at your words.

“I do not let you meet them in order for them to not do anything to you darling.” Lies. You repeated in your head. You were being unreasonable. You knew that. But your gut feeling never failed you. 

“I don’t believe you.” You said spitefully making Phanion droop in hurt as you frowned at his reaction. You were expecting anger.

“Why don’t you trust me?” Phanion said holding your hand. He really had to pull that card out didn’t he.

“I do..I just.” As if knowing you were in the wrong, the only option left in your mind was to get out of the scene immediately. You let go of Phanions hand shakily leaving Phanion standing next to the bench alone as he stared at your slowly disappearing figure with a pained look.

ANAXA: (His anger towards the Gods.)

You knew your spouse's hatred towards the Gods. It never bothered you really because the people of Amphoreus worshipped titans rather than the Aeons above. Though Anaxa seemed to be solely focused on that singular emotion of hatred removing everything else in his life. Including you.

You were sitting in bed with Anaxa as he fixed up his eyepatch with his usual elegance as he eyed the several books in front of him that talked about the several elements the Gods gave down to the mortals.

“Anaxa.” You mumbled out tilting your head as Anaxa hummed out a reply as you frowned. “Why are you so focused on this subject?” 

Anaxa sighed at your words as if he was contemplating you speaking out on this matter and turned his gaze towards you. 

“You don’t know what these Aeons have done to our people. They’re vultures.” Anaxa spat out with seeming elegance despite his harsh words. 

“I feel like you’re forgetting about everything to focus on this.” You said a hushed whisper as Anaxa narrowed his gaze.

“That’s utter lies darling. I have enough mindspace to deal with everything.” You stared at him blankly. You doubted it at this point honestly.

“I feel like you’re lying.” Silence dawned between the two of you at your words as if rendering Anaxa speechless from your statement. Which added onto your doubt from his quietness. 

Silently Anaxa grabbed his things and left. 

Did he just storm off?

I post in like once a century oopsie (Since I don't know anything about the characters personalities I went off looks and the trailers)

[orcasoul]

The Lesser of Two Evils

Summery: In the face of desperation, you make a life changing decision, which will benefit both yourself and Marcus.

Warnings: Swearing, smut (eventual), threats of rape, sexual harassment, violence, gore, detailed injuries, angst, enemies(ish) to lovers, protective Marcus Acacius, age gap, OFC/reader.

Word Count: 5,622

Chapter 2 Desperate Times

The evening stretched on and you made every effort to remain as invisible as possible. While Adhelm and his sons convened with the council and discussed the next plan of attack you busied yourself with preparing food for them, making sure to keep your eyes on your hands as you served them. But you didn't have to look up to know a pair of eyes were watching your every move. Predatory eyes, just waiting, biding their time. You could feel the hate closing around you, oppressive and suffocating. After serving everyone in attendance, Adhelm dismissed you and you couldn't have been more relieved.

You breathed the chilly night air in deeply through your nose as you stepped outside and released a sigh of relief. All you want now, is to get home, lock yourself away and try to ignore the sense of foreboding prickling under your skin. You hurry along the shadowed path, passing other homes filled with the voices of families, laughter and music. Often you would stop and remember what it felt like to have a family, to have a home filled with love and not just some weathered shack filled with silence and lonliness. But this is not the time for yearning. You need to get home, now.

The hair on your arms suddenly raise and it's nothing to do with the cold. Your heart begins to pound rapidly as the disquiet you'd felt earlier now shifts into an almost paralyzing fear. You are not alone! The sound of footsteps confirms your suspicions. You turn around quickly but the blanket of darkness hides whomever is following you. Your heart is now in your throat! Panic propels you to pick up the pace as you swiftly turn on your heel. As you round the corner of a storage building, relief sweeps over you but only for a moment before two strong arms engulf you; one around your midsection, squeezing your arms to your sides, and the other across your chest, hand pressing firmly over your mouth.

You try to scream, to free your arms but the grip is unforgiving. In your feeble attempt to resist all you can do is emit a muffled scream and kick out. The next thing you feel is the intense, sharp jolt, shooting from the back of your head. Glinting specs dance in your vision, almost resembling a vibrant night sky in the dark. A hand wraps around your throat and another finds your mouth once more. You blink harshly to clear your vision, the face coming into view being the one you loath the most. Fucking Bardulf! The arsehole flashes you a toothy grin, obviously pleased by your frightened response. He leans in closer to your face, snarling. "You really thought you could get away with that display back there?" Without a second thought you bit down on his hand.

Bardulf instantly recoils but before you can cry out he backhands you, knocking you to the ground. "Bitch!" he fumed as he pulled your head back by your hair. Your eyes widen in terror when you feel a sharp cold point pressing lightly at your throat. "Scream and I'll cut your fucking tongue out and ram it down your throat, understand?!" "Y... yes," you stutter, legs feeling like they might give way any second. Bardulf removes the knife and drags you to your feet, roughly slamming you against the side of the hut. "My father has been lenient with you for far too long. But that is about to come to an end," Bardulf smirked, your gut twisting up in response.

"Please, just let-" you whimper but he cuts you off, "Shut up! Kuno has no use for you so I convinced him to give you to me when he becomes chief. Told him I'd... "look after you". You want to stay strong. You want to mask the dread you feel right now, but your face betrays you, much to the delight of your assailant. "Things are going to change around here very soon. You will learn your place. I won't just beat it into you..." he slithers a hand down your torso, gripping your waist. Your stomach threatens to expell it's contents as his filthy paws continue to grope you. "I'll fuck it into you!"

Your heart plummets. For a moment you are speechless. He can't be serious! Why does he hate you so much? What have you ever done to him to deserve this campaign of hate he has waged against you for so long? "You c... can't! Your fathers' rule-" "Will die with him. When you are mine I shall do with you as I please. Your body will be my body," he says as he smoothes a rough finger over your cheek. Just the feel of his skin against your makes you wish you could shed your own and grow a new, untainted one.

"Why?" You begin to cry -more from frustration than fear now - despite your best efforts not to. "Why do you despise me? Why do you constantly torment me!" "Because I can," Bardulf gripped your chin, forcing your eyes up to his. "You will show me the respect I deserve. I'm going to break you, slowly. Oh, it'll be such fun," he snickered, almost maniacally, the shadows of the surrounding buildings making him appear more menacing than ever before. He continued, "I'm going to break you..." his lip curled in a cruel grin. "And once I've had my fun, I will enjoy watching you die as I squeeze the life from you."

Tightness grips your chest as his words chill you to the bone. Rage has now taken root, strangling the fear from you. "Fuck you, you loathsome piece of shit!" you lashed out, finding it within you to push him away. A repulsive smile stretched across his face. "I'll let that one slide this time, Alia. Savour it, while it lasts." Bardulf releases his hold on you and walks away, laughing to himself. You sprint home as fast as you can, locking your door before falling onto your bed and sobbing uncontrollably.

"It'll be okay. We'll be okay!" your mother stressed while holding you tightly in her arms, but the tremble of her body betrayed her words of reassurance. Outside your house, angry voices are rising in pitch, demanding that your mother show herself. In amongst the commotion your fathers' voice rang out, loud and determined, warning the gathered mob to go home. "Stay here," your mother whispered and began to rise from the corner you were both huddled in. You grip her arm, desperation in your eyes and voice. "Don't go mama, please!" "I'm just going to the window." She cupped your cheek, the warmth of her flesh soothing your nerves. If only you'd known that would be the last time you'd feel her gentle touch.

The storm of anger outside seemed to escalate with every passing minute, more and more voices joining the already volatile crowd. "You're all a bunch of gullible fools!" your father exploded. "She has nothing to do with the failed crops. You're just looking for something or someone to blame and I won't allow you to blame her!" "Bring her out, bring her out, bring her out!" the horde kept chanting. You cover your ears and close your eyes, desperate to drown out the noise, heart thumping so wildly, you fear it may burst through your chest. Your whole body jumps when your mother lets out an anguished scream and bolts for the door.

Scrambling to your feet, you run outside after her but stop dead in your tracks, muscles frozen, shock and disbelief anchoring you to the spot as you witness your fathers' blood soaked body fall to the ground. "Papa!" you whimper, all the air now having left your lungs as if you'd been punched in the stomach. You gasp for air, tears burning your eyes. Your mothers' piercing cries shake you from your stupor. "No! Mama!" you scream as she gets dragged off of your fathers' lifeless body. You only manage to run a few steps towards her before you feel multiple hands gripping your arms, fingers digging into your flesh as you fight against their hold.

"Please, please don't hurt her!" you beg the frenzied crowd but it falls on deaf ears. Your mother screams your name as she is beaten and kicked mercilessly. Accusations are spat at her along with the words "Witch" and "kill her". The whole time you struggle, frantically, to free yourself, screaming and pleading until your throat is raw. She is then pulled to her feet and dragged back to your house. You pull against the men restraining you so forcefully it feels like your shoulders might dislocate. Her once beautiful face, now black and blue and dripping with blood seeks your own before she is thrown through the door.

A man carrying a lit torch approaches your house and your eyes widen in horror, the world slowing down for you as you watch him throw the torch onto the thatched roof. In a matter of seconds your home is a blazing inferno, your innocent mothers' screams joining the crackle of the flames. You have no voice. Your strength abandons you, falling to your knees, mouth open to scream but nothing can escape the crushing sorrow and anger constricting your lungs. You clutch your hands to your chest, tears streaming down your cheeks while your life as you knew it literally goes up in flames before your very eyes.

Your body shoots upright, chest heaving as your wide eyes dart around the dark room. It's silent, oppressively so, the cold, empty darkness being the only witness to your grief. It's been a long time since you'd dreamed of that day, of your parents' death, but Bardulf's threat had festered in your mind as you drifted off into an uneasy sleep. Using your sleeve, you wipe your tears away and sit up in bed. Your body longs for comfort, for a time when the embrace of your parents felt like an impenetrable shield. Nothing could hurt you back then. With a heavy heart, you wrap your fleece blanket around your body and bring your knees to your chest, hugging and resting your chin on them. Only you can comfort yourself now and it has to be enough.

These people - who were supposed to be your people - have taken everything from you; your family, your freedom, your dignity - even your only friend. fresh tears form at your lashes at the thought of Faro. You'll always carry the weight of his death with you. But also a silent rage at Bardulf; the bastard even grinned at you as he slit his throat! For the past fifteen years the community has shunned you, the chief and his family had enslaved and alienated you and the kids you had grown up with made your existence hell with their relentless bullying.

And for what? All because some fear mongering arseholes had convinced the village that your mother was a Seer (witch) and was responsible for a bad harvest. The familiar sting of anger wells up again, replacing the hopelessness you'd awoken to only minutes ago. Fuck these people! The only reason you were spared that night was because you were only a child at the time, and the only reason no one had dared to take your virtue is because Adhelm feared your "Seers' blood" and threatened death upon anyone who touched you. But very soon, even that one last thing that was just yours will be taken from you.

Your belly twists in discomfort knowing that Bardulf will take what he wants from you and when he tires of you, he will kill you like a worthless animal. Unless... you get the hell out of here. The option to flee had always been there - and Faro often spoke of starting again somewhere new - but you knew you both never would have survived on your own; two children out there alone... It just wasn't possible. Your father had taught you how to hunt small animals and how to fish, but if the elements didn't get you, the bears and wolves would eventually. Fleeing was a death sentence for so long, but now...? Maybe salvation is possible. Salvation in the form of an injured and angry Roman General sitting in a cage not too far from your hut.

Marcus shivers as a cold breeze licks at his bare arms. In quiet contemplation he sits against the bars watching the moon spill it's silvery luminescence in a halo around itself, his mind transported to simpler times; times when he observed the moon from his balcony back home, when the mere sight of it would offer peace and stillness to the emotional scars of years of battles and slayings. But tonight he feels no such piece. He has accepted the fact that he will die soon, already having beseeched Mars to lend his unwavering strength to his men, his brothers, and not allow his public execution to quell their resolve and weaken their moral.

Rome will be victorious, no matter what these heathen beasts do. Rome is the light and darkness cannot dwell where - "General..." Marcus startles from his pensive state at the unexpected whisper in the dark. Posture rigid, he scans the immediate area but the darkness is almost impenetrable. "General!" the voice whispers again, with more urgency this time. "Who's there?" Marcus demanded. "Shhh... someone will hear us." Marcus lowers his voice. "I said who's there? Show yourself." "I can't. It's Alia. You must be still or you'll draw attention." "What do you want?" Marcus asks in a hushed tone, turning his head a fraction over his shoulder in the direction of your voice.

"I need to ask you something," you begin, your voice cautious. "Is it possible for an... outsider to become a Roman citizen?" Marcus remained silent for a moment, unsure if he'd heard you correctly. Surely you couldn't be planning on abandoning your people. "Why would you-" "I haven't the time to explain. Please just tell me if it's possible for someone like me to begin anew as a subject of Rome!" The urgency in your voice leads Marcus to wonder what could have happened for you to seek out refuge from your enemy. It must be pretty bad for you to take such a drastic action. "Yes, as long as you have committed no crime nor treason against Rome, anyone can be granted citizenship."

In the still of the night Marcus hears you release a sigh of... relief? "In that case, I have a proposition for you," you venture carefully. "Speak..." Marcus encourages you. "I will help you escape and get you back to your army if you promise that you'll take me to Rome with you and make me a Roman citizen." Marcus' immediate reaction is disgust at your disloyalty to your people, but he bit back his scorn; after all, you just might be his only hope. "I will-" he began but you cut him off. "Swear to me!" you demanded. "On my honour, I will take you to Rome, and I will personally and publicly grant you citizenship an all the rights and protection that entails."

You take a deep breath, then exhale, "Okay... In three days there will be a ceremony and celebration in honour of our youngest warriors' coming of age. Almost everyone will attend except for a few watchmen. When the time is right, I will create a distraction and then I'll come for you. This will be our only opportunity. If we fail, we are dead. Do you understand?" "I understand. I will be ready," Marcus assured. "In the meantime you must eat and build up your strength. Until then, General." Marcus listened to the sound of you shuffling away through the trees. He leans his head back against the bars, a glimmer of hope sparking within. Maybe the gods aren't done with me yet.

The next two days pass agonisingly slowly. You tend to your duties while keeping your head down, trying your best to remain inconspicuous to everyone, especially Bardulf, but every now and then you catch his sickening leer boring into you, giving you a look as if to say "It's only a matter of time." If your escape plan fails, it's all over for you. You won't wait for Bardulf to enforce his inhuman punishment on you. You'll escape or die trying. Either way he won't get what he wants and the fact that you'll be the one to ensure that, brings a quiet satisfaction to your anxious mind.

While tending to Marcus' leg you'd also snuck in some extra food to help build his strength during those days, silently mouthing "soon" to him. The night before your escape, your whole body is thrumming with uneasy apprehension. You're not sleeping tonight. You mentally rehash the escape plan over and over, praying you've left nothing to chance. Your bag is packed - and hidden away - with everything you'll need for the journey; water, ointments and balms, bandages and a small stash of fruit and dried meat that you were able to sneak from the mead hall. It's not much but it will have to do.

Dawn breaks while you continue to pace around in your hut, willing your jittery nerves to abate. It's imperative that you maintain a cool facade today. A few moments of deep, slow breathing helps to alleviate the storm brewing in your stomach. You can do this. The whole village is abuzz today, with the excitement of tonight's ceremony. While preparations are under way, you are escorted once again to Marcus' cage, food, water and fresh bandages in tow. The guard is never too far away so you keep your voice as low as you can. "Today's the day," you whisper while dressing Marcus' leg, still to intimidated by him to look him in the eye.

It's not lost on you just how thick and muscular his thigh is; a sobering reminder that this man is dangerous and could easily overpower you once you are both alone and kill you with ease. But at this point you have nothing left to lose. "After the ceremony the celebrations will begin. Once the wine is upon them, I will start a fire..." you glance around quickly, ensuring no one is within earshot. "While they are distracted I will come for you. Be ready." "I will... thank you, Alia." Marcus' unexpected gratitude and soft tone caused you to forget yourself momentarily, your eyes flicking up to be met with a softness you hadn't imagined possible from someone like him.

Instead of the cold, sharp glare he'd granted you at your initial meeting, he now regards you with gratitude and... something you can't really discern. The intensity of the moment makes you heart leap in your chest and you can no longer comfortably hold his gaze, so you lower your eyes. "Don't thank me yet, General," you shook your head. "Marcus," he replies swiftly. "Marcus," you repeat awkwardly after a moment, glancing at his face then away just as quickly. "Make sure to eat." You gesture to the bowl you had set down beside him. "You're going to need your strength." And with that you bag up your supplies and stand by the gate, calling to be let out.

As Marcus watched you walk away he's suddenly overwhwelmed by a whirlwind of conflicting emotions; hope - however small - that he'll live to see his home again, uncertainty that this risky plan of yours will actually work and a gnawing consternation at having to place his fate in the hands of, not just a stranger, but an enemy. As much as he would like to trust you, he knows the only reason you want to help him him is to help yourself. He can't help but wonder, again, what could have happened for theses Gutones to treat one of their own so abhorrently, which also leads him to wonder if you're more dangerous than you seem. He'll have to keep a close eye on you.

It's clear there's a lot going on that he's not aware of... but if it brings him his freedom and a second chance to live, he'll accept your help as desperate times call for desperate measures and even enemies can benefit from aiding one another sometimes, but he'll never be foolish enough to fully trust you. Now all he has to do is wait for the moment to arrive and in the meantime he will pray to Mercury to guide his and your steps and lead you both to the sanctuary of the Castrum (army encampment).

The ceremony went without a hitch - or at least you assume so, as you were never included in social events, unless it was to serve, and that's what you are doing now; serving the increasingly drunk and rowdy young warriors and their families. The evening stretches into night and finally, the time has come. It's now or never. While most of the women and children have returned to their homes and settled in for the night, the men continue their frivolities becoming more and more inebriated. Using the situation to your advantage, you slip away from the mead hall unnoticed, keeping to the shadows as you hurry to your hut to retrieve your bag.

Your heart is thumping in your ears, hands shaking as you exit your hut for the last time. But before you execute the next step of your plan, you have one more stop to make. Adhelms home is thankfully abandoned for the time being, he and his sons still eating and drinking their fill in the mead hall, unaware of your intrusion. On the back wall of his home is a large rack, full of weapons he'd acquired from defeated foes. The smug bastard seemed to pride himself on his "spoils of war" as he'd called them. Among the display was your fathers Seax (dagger) still in it's sheath, taken the night your parents were murdered.

With a pounding heart, you take the Seax from the rack, your fingertips trailing over the intricately carved zig zags running down both sides of the mahogany hilt. Tears build behind your eyes as just the mere touch of this knife brought forth a connection, a closeness with your father that you'd never expected to feel again. You carefully tuck it into the belt around your tunic and with a new determination, leave the chiefs home, grabbing a lit torch from a sconce on the way out.

Marcus waits anxiously for what fells like an eternity, in a constant state of hypervigilance, expecting you to show up at any moment. Every sound in the dark catching his ear sends his adrenaline spiking, but every time it's a false alarm. Frustration and doubt begin to creep in the longer he waits. She's not coming! Had you lost the nerve or been caught? Damn it! You were his only way out. He was a fool to put his faith in you. Marcus growls quietly to himself, careful not to draw he attention of the guard close by. Just when he'd thought all was lost an orange glow lighting up the darkness at the other end of the village caught his eye.

Panicked voices arose through the village as the orange light grew brighter and and the crackle of flames filed the air. The guard keeping watch lingered for a few moments, seemingly unsure of whether or not he should abandon his post, but as the chaos intensified he hurried off, disappearing around the side of a building. Marcus pulled himself to his feet lumberingly, limping to the other side of the cage, eager to see what was happening. His brow scrunched in confusion when thud followed by a pained groan rang out close by. A moment later, you emerged from where the guard had disappeared, keys clinking as you rushed to the cage door. "We have to go now, before he wakes!" you cried as you clumsily fumbled with the keys, trying each one out until the lock finally clicked.

Throwing the cage door open you hurried inside, forgetting all about the initial fear you'd felt in this Romans' presence. The only thing that matters now is escaping. Slinging one of Marcus' arms over your shoulder, you brace yourself to support his weight and the two of you make haste, away from the village and into the surrounding woodland. Scrambling through the inky black forrest with loose rocks and branches and twigs from broken trees and low bushes would be an arduous endeavour at the best of times, but trying to keep your footing whist helping to drag this mountain of a man with you is proving increasingly difficult.

It's obvious by Marcus' grunting and heavy breaths that he's mustering all the strength he has to keep pushing forward. "It's... not far... now. Urrgh... we're... nearly there," your voice shakes under the sheer exertion, your arms and legs burning with every step. "Where are we... going?" Marcus panted, twisting his head in every direction, keeping a ear out for the sound of anyone following. "There's a small... clearing... up ahead. I've got a... horse waiting... for us there." Sweat is trickling down your back now, your lungs aching with every drag of air you take in but you find the will to keep going. Nothing will stop you now... you hope.

A few minutes later you both arrive at the clearing. The full moon is bathing the open area in a soft milky gleam, the limited light enough to guide your way. It's as though the god Mani himself has taken issue with your predicament and had decided to lend you his favour. The horse you had managed to sneak out of the village in the early hours of this morning stands calmly next to the tree you'd tethered her to. A quick glance at your surroundings shows no sign of immediate danger, so you swiftly make your way over to the horse, only slowing down as you draw closer. You're greeted with an agitated whinny as the horse shuffles nervously.

You carefully pull yourself from under Marcus' arm and hold your palm out for the horse to sniff. "Shhh easy, Inga," you sooth while digging an apple from your bag. "Easy, girl. Sorry I left you here for so long." You rub down the center of her face, all the way to her velvety muzzle as she happily munches on the peace offering you'd given her. Once Inga had been placated you turn back to Marcus. "Quick!" you gesture to the horse and crouch down, interlacing you fingers to serve as a sort of step to help him mount. "I can manage," Marcus insisted, knowing you'll never be able to lift him.

Gripping onto the pommel of the crude looking saddle, Marcus took a deep breath, mentally and physically preparing himself for the coming agony of swinging his injured leg over the horses' wide body. With a surge of reserved energy and determination, he lifts his leg, throwing his entire weight along with it, swallowing the painful howl trying to claw it's way up his throat. Unfortunately in his weakened state, Marcus wasn't able to gather the needed momentum and bagan to fall backwards. Before he could fall off the horse completely, you appeared behind him, pushing him up and helping to steady him as he settled on Inga.

You flicked your wrist. "Move back." Marcus raised a questioning eyebrow at your order, remaining where he sat. "I know the direction to my Castrum." "In the dark?" you ask sceptically, surprising yourself with the hint of challenge in your voice. "How do you know the way?" he asked, as if he were afraid you'd get lost. "I overhear everything in Adhelms home," is all you offer. "Very well," Marcus conceded and slid back to sit behind the saddle. He offered his hand to pull you up. You reach out, fingers barely brushing his when all of a sudden a sharp yank of your hair sends a shockwave of pin pricks rippling across your scalp.

Your hands automatically fly up to where the pain radiates. Next thing you know, you are spun around, face to face with an enraged Adhelm. "Treacherous bitch!" he snarled in your face, fury twisting his weathered features into a grotesque appearance. "After everything I've done for you, this is how you repay my kindness, by betraying your people, your home!" "Let me go!" you shrieked, trying to free yourself from Adhelms iron grip. Through the sound of your pulse rushing in your ears you hear Marcus' threatening voice, demanding your release, followed by a distressed groan and thud on the ground.

As you writhe and fight to keep your hair this time, Adhelm continued, "I should have killed you alongside your parents. I knew you couldn't be trusted. It's in your blood, you evil, degenerate cunt! You'll pay dearly for this betrayal!" The air is forced from your lungs as your body is slammed against a nearby tree, the shock of the impact manifesting in sparks of white before your eyes. You only manage a couple of breaths before Adhelms hands crush your throat, cutting of your air intake completely. You scratch, desperately at his rough hands, throat burning and eyes watering; the pressure building behind them leaves you afraid they will burst from their sockets any moment.

A haze begins to settle over your mind, making it difficult to focus on anything around you. The panicked whinny of Inga and the deep growl of Marcus' voice sound muffled and far away. Everything seems to be slipping away, like a feather, floating into the distance on a calm wind. "You have always been more trouble than you're worth," Adhelm continued to rant, the hatred in his voice bringing your focus back to the present. In a final attempt of self preservation, your hand went to your belt, as if it remembered what your terrified brain couldn't; father's knife! What happened next was mostly a blur. Warmth pooled over your hand and Adhelms words were replaced with a gasp and a wide eyed look of disbelief and anger.

His hands slid from your throat and you coughed violently as much needed oxygen rushed into your lungs. When his body hit the ground your eyes travelled to the knife lodged in his chest. Blood continued to pour as his chest stilled and the life in his eyes dimmed until they just became empty, glazed over orbs fixed on the sky. You're frozen! Light headed and you're certain you will throw up any second. Your chest is clamping down on itself, making it near impossible to breathe. You'd just killed a man! Yes, he was cruel and dangerous, but he'd died by your hand. A hand that had never exacted violence against anyone before.

Reality itself seems to have distorted; maybe it's all just a bad dream? You cannot tear your eyes away from the corpse at your feet and at the same time you can't bare to look. You think you hear your name being called over and over, but it's irrelevant. Tears spring to your eyes and begin to roll down your cheeks. At first you barely register the weighted feeling on your shoulders as you are turned around to a demanding and authoritative voice. "Hey, look at me, look at me! You did what you had to do. It's okay," Marcus tried to sound reassuring, but in the moonlight he could see you weren't actually there, a blank teary stare is his only response.

"Get on the horse before someone else comes!" You stagger forward as he pulls you with him and it's then it really hits you. You yank your wrist from his hand and clutch your stomach as a wave of sobs wash over you. "I k-killed him! What have I done?! Oh Gods!" Marcus turns back to face you, gripping both of your upper arms now. "You defended yourself," he asserted forcefully. "There's no wrong or shame in that, you hear me?" But you don't hear him. All you can hear are the echoes of Adhelms laboured gasps just moments ago. You're certain the wretched sounds will haunt you forever.

Marcus can see that his words will not help you right now and precious time is wasting away. Any minute you could be discovered. You continue to cry, lost in your own mind and Marcus curses himself for what he's about to do. "I'm so sorry about this," he mutters, shaking his head, then slaps your cheek - not hard enough to really hurt, but it's enough to shock you back into clarity. The moment he hears the slap is the moment he sees recognition and coherence resurface in you, along with a look of shock and vulnerability. Marcus buries the instant remorse he feels. He can feel bad about it later. Right now you both have to get as far away as possible.

In a no nonsense tone he says, "Get. On. The. Horse. Now... Or this was all in vain." That seemed to have knocked some sense and urgency into you as you nod and rush back to Inga, who's stomping a hoof in frustration. You untie the reins from the tree and Marcus helps you up onto her back. Once seated you extend your arm to pull him up. Between his heavy weight and lack of strength it takes a lot of effort to pull him up. Eventually he settles behind you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. With a kick to Ingas ribs, she speeds off into the forrest and the dead of night.

Series Masterlist Chapter 1 Chapter 3

@myownwholewildworld @imherefordeanandbones @picketniffler @h0w-1-wanna-l1v3 @chrissy-forfucksakes-wakeup @meetmeatyourworst @yorksgirl @joeldjarin @echo-ethe @whirlwindrider29

[vieoeil-riae]

could you arcane steb x mage reader who travels a lot but when they met steb they decided to permanently live in piltover relationship headcanons

steb/mage!reader hcs

steb/gn!reader

warnings: SFW, short, honestly I might turn it into an actual fic one day when I have the time lol

hi hi!! thanks for the request! i have absolutely no idea what i'm doing with headcanons tbh, but i hope you enjoy it anyways 🥳💞

magic being unwelcomed in piltover, you had your work cut out for you busking with magicless party tricks you'd learned over your travels - but you couldn't resist adding a little magic flare

it drew Steb's suspicion and led to your first meeting

not necessarily illegal, he had nothing to arrest you for

this happened again and again, each time you used your magic to tease him a, blowing little magic hearts at the pretty, straight-laced enforcer who seemed to never leave you alone once he saw you

you weren't a stranger to tough situations and originally, you had the resolve to cut loose and run for it should you get into trouble but after months spent wandering the city and wondering about Steb - you found yourself thinking up getaway plans that didn't involve abandoning the city altogether

Steb, on the other hand, was left questioning policy, you never did anything wrong but if you were found out you'd get damn near the same treatment as Demacia, just without the obvious jail cell

you were nice to him, a funny-man to his straight-man he supposed - attractive, even

your eyes glittered with a kind of seeing that felt rich on his skin when you looked at him, trying to figure him out in ways he'd never encountered in the passively ruthless city, it made him fluster inside

he was pulled between two angles, and in a rare thought, he wanted a drink

you spent the night in a small bar, tucked neatly into a little residential area, thinking about the enforcer, Steb, that you kept running circles around

you'd never been so attached to toying with someone during your travels before, you swirled your drink in your glass and fell into an old debate about staying or going

the seat next to you squeaked with the weight of someone familiar and you almost choked on your drink at the sight of his frills fluttering with the air change as the door swung shut

you chatted at him, normally, without teasing or magic or any complicating factors other than the drinks in your hands and it eventually turned into your verbalised self-debate

his eyes widened and his ears dropped when you mentioned the possibility of you leaving, a pang in your gut wordlessly saying how much you never wanted to see that crestfallen look on his face again

you wouldn't have a place to stay if you chose to, a frown on your face that was quickly wiped away into confusion at Steb's hands moving in a flurry - far more hastily than you'd ever seen the stoic man move

giving up, he quickly reached over the bar for a pan, scrawling an offer down on a napkin

you could stay with him, if you want

he snatched it back almost the same second he slid it towards you, furiously writing again before bashfully handing it back to you

you didn't have to, he knows you don't know him well and it would be a little weird and he'd totally understand if you didn't want to-

you laughed out a yes, patting his slightly slumped shoulder in reassurance you understood, flicking another magic heart at his face and watching it break like shimmering steam over his nose

he blushed, frills fluttering, and you couldn't say you were much better

should anything happen, you could take care of it, the magic in your veins giving you a weapon that could only be taken from you with petricite

weeks passed in each other's company, domestic moments that made your heart flutter married to the does-he-doesn't-he of blossoming feelings, you never felt as antsy as you thought you would've when Steb was around

he was so sweet to you in a way that was such a departure from your usual firmly independent style, sticking to you like glue and listening to every story you'd tell in a way that went past just being invested in the narrative

you told him a story from Ionia once, you heard it while passing through a small seaside village, star-crossed lovers and magic and celestials - but when you turned to see his reaction all you found was a soft, adoring look that pierced your travel-built confidence

he kissed you in that moment, soft like the gentle lap of the ocean at your finger tips, and formlessly you made a promise to yourself to stay

Steb wouldn't keep you trapped however, often encouraging you to travel, safe in the knowledge you'd always return to him

A/N: okay no one be surprised if i end up making this into an actual fic 💀💀💀💀💀 it's a really good idea i found myself like having Thoughts And A Half about it yk??????

banner cr: @/cafekitsune

[revelboo]

so what im getting from that sparked up post is that theres a possibility that starscream, reader, and soundwave are gonna be playing some weird, sexy hot potato with the baby. im only half joking on that buT DAMN YOU LEAD UP TO THAT SO SMOOTHLY???? LIKE I WAS READING THE POST AND JUST GOING LIKE "ok, yeah, that happened, and then That happened and then-" and just. goddamn. ALSO TF1 BEE AND THAT LAST BIT FROM THE LAST CHAPTER YOU DID FOR HIM DIDNT HAVE TO HIT THAT HARD, GOD??? GOD. im breaking the laws of reality to hold him, i know readers not there yet but i am and im having a mental standoff with him on whos knocking who up first

So far, Star is the only one fully bonded at this point. Sounders has a partial bond. I like the idea that spark bonds are pretty much nonexistent by this point in the timeline because it’s too risky to tie yourself so completely to someone during a war. Star and TFP Megs didn’t realize they could bond to a human. Sounders had seen it was possible and decided it was worth the risk, but most of the Cybertronians have no clue at this point. I’d think that spark bonds would have started becoming almost a taboo even before the war- the senate painting the bonds as blasphemous when really they just didn’t want the lower classes bonding. If one parter dies in an accident, you end up losing two workers and hurting production.

😂 Y’all making me think and actually world build my Transformers smut instead of just BSing it.

Also: sorry about the Bee! I needed to lay some groundwork for why he is the way he is and that he’s not actually okay at all for what’s eventually coming. Because he’s not getting abandoned ever again, no matter what he has to do to ensure it.

18+ Mass displaced mech 🌶️

The Coma Kid Pt 5

TFO B 127 x Reader

• “Are you warm enough? I could hold you, I’m warm.” Offering his hands to you, he tries not to wilt when you immediately lean away, that smile of yours so brittle. “Okay, yeah. No holding.” Hands folding into his lap where he’s sitting on his berth watching you stare up at him with no small amount of suspicion from your blanket nest, he fidgets. That pull, that urge to touch you chiming through him. Almost painful to ignore. You have to be able to feel it, too. Which means you’re uncomfortable. Rocking forward, he scoops up you and your nest despite your startled gasp and deposits you into his lap. “I just need this. Sorry.” Hooking a servo around your middle, the tension eases, but that insatiable need to touch you just grows hotter.

• Teeth gritted against that hollow need twisting through you at his servo slides against your stomach and under your shirt. And that ache shifts infuriatingly, becoming lust on steroids. Completely unfair and unwanted. Because at this point you’re so frustrated, you’re not sure if you’d go through with your escape plan if he leaves you alone for a minute or if you’d give yourself a helping hand instead. What is wrong with you? Actually, what did he do to you? Because whatever this is, it’s absolutely some weird alien BS. “Okay, no,” you gasp as that servo slides up further and you squirm out of his grip, pitching backwards and he grabs for you. Back hitting the berth as he falls forward and you close your eyes expecting to get crushed. Not to have the air driven out of you and to somehow not die.

• Mass displaced, he freezes as your eyes open and just stare at him. Your lips parting as he doesn’t move from where he’s sprawled on top of you, snared by those eyes. “Sorry,” he whispers, but he can’t bring himself to move. Shifting slightly against you, settling his hips into the cradle of yours just to feel how you fit together. Like you’re made just for him. For the first time that he can remember, he’s lost his words. Speechless and shaken. Wonders what your mouth would feel like against his. If you’d let him kiss you. Finding your hand, he interlaces his servos with your fingers and pins it by your head. Wanting, but unsure if he’s allowed.

• Swallowing as his mouth opens and closes and he’s silent, that hungry need lifts through you. Whispering deviant things. Like that you could ease that ache with him and then escape. It couldn’t hurt anything. Those servos of his would feel better than your own fingers. Breath catching as he lowers his head like he’s going to kiss you, you turn your head away and his mouth brushes your cheek and jaw. Over to your neck as his hips rock against yours. “Stop that or-”

• “Or?” He whispers against your soft skin. You’re not struggling, not pushing or shoving at him. Mouth sealing against your throat and sucking until you arch into him, like you want him to mark that soft skin as his. “Just let me take care of you. Be such a good mate.” Sitting up when you shiver but don’t protest, he runs his servos against you, trying to figure out the layers of your coverings before just tugging the lower half down your legs. “It’s okay.” Afraid you’ll stop him at any moment, he stretches out between your thighs and nuzzles against you. “Let me have this. Just a taste, okay?”

• Breath catching when he vents against your bare skin, there’s a shiver of alarm. That you’re playing with fire knowing you’re about to get burned. Knowing you should stop him, kick him in the face if need be, but when that glossa slides against you, you make a ragged sound of need instead. Big hands sliding under your butt and squeezing as his glossa tunnels inside you, your hips lift, buck. His bright optics staring up your body as he laps at you and you let your head fall back unable to deal with the intimacy of him watching you while his mouth is on you. Biting down on the pad of your thumb when his mouth slides against you, sucking, nipping, and licking until your release rushes unexpectedly through you and you cry out feeling his glossa drive inside you again. And that hollow need grows instead of diminishing.

Previous

[chrissvalentine]

✧˖*° ࿐ on cam. ⋆· ˚ ༘ *

read part two & part three

pairing: enemy!chris sturniolo x reader

summary: reader & matt are fwb, and chris seems a little jealous

warnings: SMUTTTT, dom!chris, oral, unprotected, roughhh, degrading names (slut, etc.), slapping, use of ma/baby, camera/recording, praise kink, choking if you squint, arguing

you and chris had known eachother since you were kids, just like you had with the two other triplets. so matt and nick were confused when you two had suddenly become distant and rude towards each other in car videos.

so, they decided you and chris needed some alone time to work out whatever conflict had been going to between the two of you. so, they set you two down on their living room couch, and told you both exactly that. after that, they had left you two alone, and went to the store to get some things for tomorrows wednesday video.

the second nick and matt stepped out of the door, you shot up from the couch to leave this situation as soon as possible.

you're quickly stopped by chris grabbing your arm, and pulling you back down onto the couch.

he looks at you like he wasn't the one who ruined your friendship.

the truth was, you and chris had something going on a few years back. but you cut it off, and went back to being friends. for awhile, you had no idea why he had started being such a jerk to you in recent months. but eventually you pieced together a suspicion that it could be about what's going on between you and matt.

you and matt hadn't had anything truly serious going on. just flirting, and occasional making out, but chris didn’t know that.

but apparently that hadn't stopped chris from being jealous, because he speaks in a playful tone, "i know what's going on between you and my brother."

you look at him confidently, and respond confidently as well. "okay.. do you want a cookie?"

chris rolls his eyes at you and inches closer to you on the couch. he grips your wrist tighter, which causes you to whimper softly in response.

chris isn't saying anything, so you decide to speak up again, "i don't understand why your upset with me chris, i thought you would be over us by now."

chris responds swiftly, like he had already had this conversation in his head before it happened. "i am over us, but i'm not over us if your with my brother."

you look at him confused, you understand that he could be jealous, but that's not like him. he could literally get any girl he wanted. "chris, what? are you seriously jealo-"

he cuts you off by slamming your faces together, his hand that was gripped tightly on your arm suddenly moves to your waist.

he pulls you closer to him, almost onto his lap as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. you allow him entrance as your mouth opens and a soft whimper falls out.

his grip on your hips tightens as the kiss deepens. chris can't help himself, the desire to make you his becoming stronger with each second.

you pull away from the kiss for a slight moment, just long enough for him to pull you fully onto his lap, his forehead resting against yours as you try to catch your breath.

he glances at your swollen lips, and gently traces his thumb over them.

"you have no idea what you do to me." he says, before starting to move his hips around to create friction, just where you want it.

"i've been trying so hard to stay away from you," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your neck as he speaks.

“but you just can’t help yourself, huh? went and got with my brother like the slut you are.”

he places soft kisses along your neck, his teeth lightly nibbling at your skin. his hands begin to roam all over your body, exploring every inch of you as if he's trying to memorize every curve and detail.

his kisses become more intense, his tongue swirling against your skin as his hands grab your hips, and slowly grind you against him.

"chris. fuck," you mumble into the kiss.

he suddenly breaks the kiss, his breathing ragged as he looks at you, his eyes dark with desire. he runs his fingers through his hair as he tries to regain his composure.

he tugs at your shirt, motioning for you to take it off. you oblige as he reaches for something behind the couch. his hands searching for something specific, and finally grasping it.

chris pulls out a camera.

his eyes linger on you as you take off your shirt, biting his lip softly as he watches the reveal of your skin.

"your so beautiful," he whispers before motioning for you to take your shorts off. you comply, as he swiftly pulls off his shirt and sweatpants.

you cover your body with your arms, just for chris to take them off so he can see your body. "ma, let me see you." he mumbles.

chris then takes out the camera, and starts recording as he slowly takes off your bra.

he pans the camera down to your bare tits, "fuck, baby" he mumbled as you breathed deeply, unable to move as he moves the camera down to your lap.

"now your panties," he requests.

"but- your filiming. i-" you stuttered.

"so? strip." he interrupted

again, you do as he says. you slowly take off your panties as he spins you around for the camera. you couldn't help but notice how much his demanding tone turned you on. you maintained eye contact with him as you discarded your panties on the floor.

"so sexy, ma" he praised

chris discarded his boxers as he gave the camera a better view of your exposed body.

"shit," he groaned as he inched closer towards you.

you slowly turned around, to hopefully give him and the camera a better view. he snickered before running his hands past your tits, and up to your neck.

"you gonna let your little 'boyfriends" brother fuck you, slut?" he whispered while gently squeezing his hand around your neck.

his actions caused you to whimper, as he brought his free hand down sharply against your skin. his hand then slides down past your waist, pulling you even tighter against him.

"chris, please." you whisper, your voice strained with effort.

"what? use your words ma," he teased, clearly knowing what you wanted, but wanting to hear you say it.

"chris please fuck me," you plead desperately, needing him inside you.

chris chuckled, letting go of you and pushing you onto the couch. he pumped himself with his free hand before lining himself up with your pussy. his tip teased you as you looked back at the camera with a grin.

as you focus on the camera, he snickered again just before shoving himself quickly into your pussy. he smiled as he noticed he captured your face in that moment on camera.

"chris," you cried out, as he slapped your ass again.

"can't take my dick slut? i know you can." he huffed

at his sudden actions, you feel your walls clench as you adjust to his size. before you could make any more noise, chris brings his free hand to your face, and shoves two of his fingers into your mouth.

"you're taking me so well baby." he dryly praised as he adds another finger into your mouth.

chris continues slamming in and out of you as you suck on his fingers. your whimpers become louder and louder with each thrust. this whole time, he's making sure the camera gets a perfect view of everything happening.

"who fucks you better?" he suddenly groaned.

"what..? fuck," you replied confused.

"who fucks you better, slut? me or my brother,"

"you.. fuck, you fuck me better chris," you panted.

chris smirked at your response. as you feel your orgasm approaching, your walls begin to clench around chris' dick. looking back at him for approval, he grants it while chasing his own.

"that's it. fuck, come for me baby." he groaned as you felt your orgasm reach its highest point.

"get on your knees baby," chris ordered. you followed and settled down on your knees as you looked up at him, still holding the camera.

"open your mouth," he demanded as he ran his free hand through your hair before using it to pump himself, before entering your mouth. you took him all the way to the back of your throat, with his free hand gripped against the back of your head.

"fuck, that's it.. i'm close," he whimpered as he began to thrust into your wet mouth. your eyes formed tears as he released down your throat.

he slowly pulled out of your mouth, holding your jaw with his free hand. showing the camera the mess he had made.

he saved the video as you panted, trying to catch your breath.

"chris! what if someone sees that??" you whispered, embarrassed.

"that's the point sweetheart." he snickered as he put the camera down.

a/n: 😬😬 how do we feel… first time writing smut..

[astral-herald]

arcane's depiction vs. endorsement and why it flopped

~ i think i'm finally ready to complain ~

My general opinion of season 2 is potential squandered. My recent post about Viktor's storyline as an intentional tragedy lets ya'll know that I did, for the most part, enjoy his arc (hot take, I know, and I know lots of people disagree with me, and I fully understand). If he'd gotten the screen time necessary to pull it off, it would have been legendary in my book. But the lack of screen time, even in the case of the season's eventual BBEG, speaks to my greatest issue with Arcane: no commitment.

(Critical) Discussion of Jinx, Ekko, Sevika, Vi, and Viktor below!

Arcane, as a tragedy (I've said this word too many times to count smh), asks the plot, "what is the worst thing that could possibly happen to this character?" and answers in kind. This is why we get Viktor's lost agency until the very end (and like I've said in the past, I completely understand and hold space for those who dislike this route).

If we ask this same question of the following characters, the scope of loss and despair innate to Arcane's final narrative is made very clear:

Sevika: a revolutionary forever devoted to the cause, not the individual, is nominated as an individual to represent the masses in a governmental body that has no interest in her class-conscious ideal.

Ekko: the people's hero in every sense of the word who never sees the fruits of his labor/sacrifice and who goes without the acknowledgement he deserves (more than any other Arcane character).

Vi: the ultimate victim of Piltover police brutality coerced, through grief, trauma, and loss, into working for the system that oppressed her. Even Caitlyn, for all her good intentions, seems incapable of ever understanding this.

Viktor: a genius hellbent on ending the same suffering he endured at the hands of Piltover's oppression has his agency revoked, driving him to inflict the same choicelessness he endured on Zaunite innocents.

On paper, these arcs are devastatingly sensical. And we don't always need happy endings in our stories (I'd sure like them, more often than not, of course). We can and should witness the harsh realities of class oppression if we don't experience them ourselves. The writing team painstakingly crafted and foreshadowed these worst-case scenarios throughout season 1. For example, in 1x07, Ekko being immediately shot at by Marcus at the bridge confirms our suspicions that Piltover Enforcers are a lost cause, not just full of bad apples but internally broken beyond repair. It felt that, despite all the hope, this struggle was doomed, and we were careening toward something dark - "In the pursuit of great, we failed to do good."

Had these arcs been successful, audiences would be confronted with the systemic issues we see today that implicate the physical and mental health of downtrodden individuals on account of lazy, prejudiced leadership. This actively happens. It is actively happening, sans the fantasy of it all. This is where Arcane should have shined: they depict the tragedy of these characters, but DO NOT endorse it.

But Arcane chickens out and the entire thing fails. Here are the Flop Era Spark Notes:

Maddie is the egregious bad apple stereotype that absolves all other agents of the regime. She clearly is not a stand-in for Enforcers at large because, all of a sudden, they're capable of coordinated artillery strikes that are necessary to the defense of Piltover, which the viewer must suddenly and abundantly care about. So glad she died. Also, Arcane, you cannot introduce abject warfare in the last 30 minutes of your show successfully.

Jinx's "revolutionary" plot was a red herring, and Sevika humbly vying for the spot was never delivered upon. They pay lip service to the Undercity organizing, but the scene is interrupted for larger (messier) plot concerns almost immediately. No commitment. No depiction to even refrain from endorsing.

Ekko and the Firelight Tree. Clearly this was set up as a means of showing how Piltover's mistakes were physically seeping into the only sanctuary left in Zaun. Yet this is just...never resolved? If someone has some insights into this, please let me know. No depiction. No discussion about endorsement.

What could Vi specifically gain by aligning with the Enforcers/Piltover? Human connection with Cait, sure, but why return to them in 2x06? Vi's character begged all season for development, but she kept returning to her nonsensical error of her ways (looking backwards) until the very end, and this is basically what "kills" Jinx. This is a nod to her lonesomeness post 1x03, sure, but to what end? Again, why the Enforcers?!? Oh, because now that Cait has been redeemed and Sevika is in Piltover to save the day, there are no systemic issues left to fix? Sure, Riot.

WHY DEVELOP VIKTOR'S ENTIRE HEXCORE ARC OFF SCREEN?I'M ADMITTEDLY BIASED ABOUT THIS, BUT THE AMOUNT OF DISCUSSIONS I'VE HAD WITH VIKTOR NATION ABOUT THE DEGREE TO WHICH HE WAS INFLUENCED/MANIPULATED BY THE HEXCORE (now that we know Sky was a manifestation of his humanity, not her Actual Self) IS DESPICABLE. HIS COMPROMISED AGENCY NEEDS TO BE FRONT AND CENTER AND OBVIOUS, OR ELSE IT SURE SEEMS LIKE RIOT IS ENDORSING THE LACK OF AGENCY IN VIKTOR'S STORY. I shouldn't have to make 1k word posts to explain this. I'll do it because I love him with my whole heart, but still.

I begged and pleaded for months for BBEG Viktor (I'm really proud of my predictions from October), but by introducing a villain/conflict beyond the Piltover/Zaun dichotomy, Riot severed all threads of class conflict that were so rife and exciting in season 1. The proletariat and the bourgeoise will never coalesce like they did by the end of 2x09 without systemic revolution. Sevika is just one individual. Ekko's people need him. Jinx and Viktor are gone. Vi is downtrodden, and we have SO LITTLE to show for it.

In summary, we just didn't get enough explicit explanation of any character development to make Arcane-As-Tragedy successful. They did not stick the landing. The finale leaves us all with various bad tastes in our mouth. Instead of lamenting the harsh reality of oppression, I'm confused about what Riot prioritizes and agrees with, what they aim to criticize, and what they condemn.

I'll die on the hill that revoking Viktor's agency has the potential to be one of the greatest tragic hero storylines I've ever seen, but it's a lonely hill because I'm fighting against the writing team's consistent flops. At least Balayage Viktor was so gorgeous.

shameless self plug for my earlier discussion about the innate political clashes in season 1 that were abandoned for flashy fantasy fights in season 2:

[229zmi]

MY HEART, IT BEATS FOR YOU

Nagi Seishirō/Reader | 1.0k words, fluff, jealous nagi

Nagi, generally, is an apathetic person.

Yet somehow, there’s a taut feeling that twists its way through the gaps of his ribcage, stretching around his heart as his eyes linger on the fabric that hangs around your shoulders. Seeing you on the couch, casually scrolling on your phone while wearing a jacket he can’t recognise as yours or, even better, his as much as he wants to — the sight elicits something that’s not quite a painful feeling, but it isn’t exactly pleasant either, he thinks.

The wheels are still turning in his head when you finally acknowledge his presence with a smile, oblivious to the way he’s not even looking at you when you tell him, “Hey, Sei.”

Instead, he trudges over to you with the same passion as that of a sloth, and his voice comes out small, almost as if that same feeling in his chest has crawled past his shoulder to constrict his throat.

“That jacket— it’s not yours, is it?” It’s plain and simple, the way he states the observation, yet laced with the most marginal hint of spite.

“No, it’s Reo’s,” you confirm without missing a beat, and he narrows his eyes, so subtly that you don’t even catch it. You continue on about how you bumped into Reo by pure coincidence on your way to run an errand and how the weather’s been so volatile lately, oscillating between warm and sunny one day and freezing cold during the next. But Nagi—

Well—

Here’s the thing: as impassive as he is most of the time, Nagi is a great listener when it comes to you.

You’ve always been a priority to him and even more so in that facet. To relish in the fleeting moments of winning a game on his phone, or to know what happens in the latest chapter of his favourite manga as soon as possible — the rush of satisfaction he gets out of those is nice, he supposes, but not worth missing a word of what you say, be it something miscellaneous about your day or the biggest news he’s ever heard in his life.

And certainly, nothing is worth missing the small habits that make themselves known in your conversation, that make up the you he first swore love to near the bench outside the convenience store, holding your favourite snack in one hand and offering his jacket to you with his other because the harshness of springtime winds had swept away any warmth your flimsy sweater could contain.

It’s your facial expressions, your gestures, the way you look toward him at the end of each rambling, as if to ask, Are you listening? So then, he’ll answer— a nod, as if to say, Yes. Of course. Please say more. Because for you, it’s all ears and eyes wide open on his end.

But Nagi, admittedly, isn’t perfect, and this is not a matter of opinion. Even you can see the way he can’t stop staring hard at your jacket as though he’s trying to telepathically morph it into something that looks like it came from his closet instead.

Midway through an elaborate plan to sell the jacket for an outrageously high price on some sketchy website (you’re only half-joking… maybe), you finally notice his distant expression. “…Sei?”

His lack of response is all the confirmation you need for your suspicions. A grin then crosses your face, while your eyes sport a gleam that Nagi recognises as smugness once he eventually tears his focus away from the offending item of clothing.

You say his name again, this time teasingly. Then, “Are you jeal—?”

Your question cuts off unceremoniously when his hands reach over to latch onto the zipper of the jacket, pulling it down before tugging on the fabric near your shoulders. Despite the boldness of his actions, you don’t make any move to stop him as he flings Reo’s jacket across the room, hearing it land on the floor with a satisfying sound.

Moments later, he shrugs his jacket off in one smooth motion and then drapes it over your body. With his large palms smoothing over the fabric against your upper arms, it’s such a sweet gesture that you can’t find it in yourself to complain, although the opportunity to poke fun at him is hard to let slip.

“Woah, there.” Cheekily, you brush that one abnormally long part of his bangs away from his face and poke the tip of his nose, to which he responds with his signature pout before burying his face into the crook of your neck. As your back hits the cushion of the arm rest behind you and your hands come up to comb through his hair, you feel a bout of warmth surge through your collarbone area, accompanied by the sound of his voice muffled by your skin.

“I’m not jealous.”

A smile dances around the corners of your mouth despite your efforts to conceal it. “Really?” you say. “I think you are.”

“Nuh-uh,” he grumbles. “You can’t prove it.”

“I mean. You’re kinda all over me right now.”

He huffs at the flurry of giggles that tumble from your mouth boundlessly, like clothes spilling out of an overpacked suitcase. Though, when your laughter finally simmers down and humour seems to have come to a standstill in your conversation, sentimentality weaves its way into your voice, in between mixed undertones of reassurance and leftover amusement.

(Because what you’re about to say is nothing but the truth itself: ardent and vulnerable, despite the sheer casualness in the way you present it.)

“You’re the only one my heart beats for, Seishirō.”

Lazily, he peers up at you. “Promise?”

“I promise. Besides,” you add, snuggling deeper into the collar of his jacket, “your jacket’s way warmer, anyway.”

That could be attributed to the fact that he has practically become your personal heater by sprawling his body over yours on the couch. Nevertheless, the envious fangs surrounding Nagi’s heart slacken, and with your fingers brushing through his hair once again, he can’t help himself from murmuring into your skin, sounding more relieved than he has ever sounded, “Good.”

[allllium]

andrewgarfield!peterparker x reader where reader has the biggest crush on peter but doesn't know he's spiderman? angst to fluff please!

have lovely day/night <3

Unrequited (I've always loved you)

~ Sorry this took so long and it's a lot longer than I usually write but I love how it turned out <3

~ Fluff, hurt/comfort?, Angst, WC: 2,274

~ Your best friend has a secret

Being in love sucks. Being in love with someone that's not in love with you sucks even more. But that's fine. Everything's fine. Nothing can go wrong when you're in love with your best friend.

Peter looks over at you as you repeatedly tap your pencil against your notebook, very obviously not doing the homework. You're sitting on his bed while he's across from you at his desk. Ignoring the tap from your pencil, you look around his room, lost in random thoughts, well thoughts mostly of him.

"You alright?" He asks, soft voice coming from a few feet away.

"Ugh, just bored." You slightly whine. Standing from the bed to look more around his nerdy room. All the walls are covered with different things that you don't really understand.

He just nods and returns to his work. You admire him from your stance behind him. The way his fluffy hair falls softly in front of his face or the way he's dressed so casually but still looks so good. You don't understand how one person can be so perfect. Not to mention the way he's stronger than he looks, allowing him to maintain his lanky figure that fits him so well.

Out of your boredom you start rummaging through all the stuff he has lying on his bookshelf, which leads to opening all the drawers you can find. You continuously look over at him to see if he has a problem with what you're doing but he makes no move to stop you even as he watches what you're doing.

As you're digging around you eventually reach his closet, you're a little hesitant because you don't wanna press your luck too far but what are best friends if not nosy. His closet is small and way overcrowded with clothes you swear he's never worn. You wouldn't doubt that his aunt tried to sneak them in to help him fit in more.

Something catches your eye as you go to shut the door. You wouldn't think anything of it but the red color of it deeply contrasts the rest of the closet. It looks like fabric but it's not hanging up with the rest of his clothes. Instead it's in a box on the floor, only a piece of it visible as if he rushed to put it away.

Peter shoots out of his chair when you bend down towards the box. He grabs your arm and pulls you away so he can quickly shut the door.

"What was that?" You ask in suspicion. Peter's reaction is one you haven't seen from him before.

"Nothing." He tells you, a serious look falling over his face. He pushes you a little further so he can stand between you and the door.

"Peter, c'mon." You deadpan. All the embarrassing things it could possibly be run through your head. Nothing you think of would warrant this much of a reaction.

"No. Leave it alone." He doesn't exactly snap at you but it's definitely on the line of it.

"Okay then. I'll go now." You tell him quickly. You gather up your stuff and look at him one more time before leaving, his gaze is focused on the floor in front of him. Shaking your head in even more confusion, you leave.

You don't see him for the rest of the day. Or the next day. Or even the day after that. You get the feeling he's avoiding you. It's a mystery why you think to yourself in a sarcastic tone.

Of course you see him around school but he always does more than necessary to avoid looking at you. At this point you're determined to know what was in that box. Is it a huge violation of his privacy, yes. Do you care, no, not one bit. If he doesn't want you to violate his privacy, why would he hide things from you? Make it make sense.

It's not that hard to get access to his closet considering Aunt May will let you in the house will no explanation. After school you walk right in, she gives you a bright smile and continues whatever it is she's doing. Not one question.

You have no problem going into his room, he's probably off skateboarding or whatever else nerds do in their free time. Once you get your hands on the box, that he's now shut completely, you have second thoughts. Maybe it really is wrong of you to invade his privacy like this? Oh well you open it anyway.

Holy shit. You don't even know what to think as you pull out a spiderman costume. You think, well hope, it's a costume because you don't know what to think about your best friend being the New York superhero.

How? When? How again? Is this why he's so strong? You've been friends with Peter long before Spiderman showed up which means he chose not to tell you. Is it because he doesn't trust you? Or maybe he doesn't like you as much as you like him? That stings.

Now you know why he was so adamant you leave it alone. But how is this even possible? He swings from buildings and fights giant lizards. How are you supposed to believe that your Peter can be doing that?

You quickly put the suit back in the box and hurry out of his room. As you rush down the stairs, he's coming up, running into his shoulder halfway down. You know he immediately knows but you keep running anyway.

He doesn't even stop to explain as he continues up the stairs. You walk home and wonder if there's any possibility it was just a Halloween costume.

Your phone rings over and over and over. It's obviously Peter. It's only nine in the morning on a Saturday so you have no plans of getting up or moving enough to answer your phone.

You're guessing he's mad. He should be. Now that you know what it is you can think a little clearer and you understand that maybe you should've respected his wishes a little more.

You don't answer the phone because you know he'll be mad and you don't want him to ever be mad at you. Or he'll be sad and you don't want that either. But of course, above all, you don't want to admit to him that you were wrong.

Once you finally get to moving out of bed, you spend a lot of time reading articles on Spiderman and trying to figure out how he does what he does. Now that you know Peter is Spiderman some of it makes more sense but all the other stuff makes even less sense.

Your phone rings a couple more times and you get a dozen messages but eventually they all stop. You focus your time on reading every single thing you can about him. From everything about the giant lizard to saving cats from trees and catching falling women.

"That was an interesting day." A voice comes from behind you. You jump out of your seat and turn to face them. A not so flattering shriek leaves your mouth and your heart beats faster than you thought possible.

"Peter, what the fuck." You gasp. Heart still racing and breathing slightly heavy. You take a moment to look at him, taking notice of his messy hair and the fact that he's in the Spiderman suit. Obviously he looks insanely hot but very very angry.

"Oh what? Did I invade your privacy?" He mocks, throwing down the mask you're just noticing was in his hand.

"I mean you came through the window so I'd say so." You whisper, not sure what you're actually supposed to say.

"I guess we're even now huh." He takes a seat on your bed and you almost want to say something about outside clothes on your bed but you don't have that right.

"Yeah I'd say so." A simple shrug of your shoulders has him rolling his eyes.

"That's the second time you've said that."

"I don't know what else to say."

"I wonder why." He mutters, more to himself than anyone else.

"Were you ever gonna tell me?" You ask, hurt covering your voice.

"I wanted to." You sit next to him on your bed.

"No you didn't. You should've told me."

"I don't see how it's any of your business." The setting sun shining in through your window glows on his face. You can see every detail of both him and his suit.

"Because we're friends. I don't know, maybe it wasn't."

"Really? You're gonna play this card." He stands in front of you.

"What card, Peter?" You almost yell back.

"You! Acting all sad and betrayed, trying to pretend you don't know if we were ever real friends." He's yelling now too.

"What does that even mean!? I'm allowed to be upset when you keep something like this from me!" You stand up, not liking the way he was looking down at you.

"It's none of your business." He enunciates every word to get his point across.

"Fine. It's not my problem. I shouldn't have done it. Now get out of my room."

He stares at you for a full minute. Like he's not done with whatever he wants to say or maybe he just wasn't expecting you to snap. Either way he respects your wishes, waiting only a moment more to leave out your bedroom window.

The next week rolls around very similar to the last. You go to school, you go home. Peter still avoids you, and what looks like everyone else. Throughout the whole week you don't see him talk to Gwen or anyone else he usually hangs out with.

It's not until Thursday that Gwen actually comes up to talk to you. Usually you would talk everyday but she's been more than busy with her band.

"Hey, are you alright?" She asks, coming up behind you as you put stuff back in your locker.

"Yeah, why?"

"I don't know Peter's being weird and all mopey so I thought he finally kissed you or something." She sighs so freely like she didn't just say something like that.

"What do you mean finally? Why would he kiss me?" She looks panicked. Clearly she wasn't supposed to say something but everyone knows Gwen isn't someone that keeps secrets very well.

"Fuck." She turns around and starts walking off. You slam your locker shut and follow her.

"No, no, no, no. Gwen, you get back here."

"I can't, I wasn't supposed to say that." She starts walking through people and down random halls.

"Gwen, you better get talking or I'm telling Peter what you already told me." That makes her stop in tracks. She turns to you with a look of both disbelief and betrayal.

"You're not even on speaking terms!"

"We'll go on speaking terms outta spite."

"Fine, I'll tell you but you can't tell anyone." She points her finger at you accusingly.

"Who would I tell?"

"Peter may be an insy tinsy bit in love with you."

"Gwen!"

"What? I'm not the one in love with you!"

You take a deep breath while you try to process everything you've learned in the past three minutes.

"I've been trying to get him to admit it to you forever but he didn't want to do it until he told you he's Spiderman." She continues her explanation, not realizing she's yet again saying more than she's supposed to.

"So you already knew he was Spiderman?"

"Fuck." She whines and turns to leave again but this time you let her. It's not her fault Peter didn't trust you. Or that he's in love with you.

"Gwen told me she told you." Peter says, not even a moment after you opened your front door. "And so I guess I don't really have a choice but to explain myself. And I mean that literally because Gwen is giving me no choice." He talks quickly. It sounds like he's trying to say it as fast as possible to get it over with.

"Wanna come in?" You ask, again not knowing what to say. It's funny how all it takes is his presence to make you more nervous than you ever have been.

He walks in hesitantly and doesn't move further than the entryway before he starts talking again.

"I only told her first because I'm not in love with her. I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want it to affect anything, but I didn't want to tell you I was in love with you before I told you that I was Spiderman because it didn't feel right to keep that a secret."

"That makes no sense." You run your hands tiredly over your face. "I mean seriously at least have a good excuse."

"I don't have one. Okay, I don't know why I didn't tell you."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because I love you and I don't want this to ruin anything." He looks down at his feet, breaking the eye contact you were making.

"I love you too but if I was a superhero I'd tell you."

"I know you would. I don't know why I didn't." He shrugs. "Did you just say you love me?"

"Not if it takes you that long to notice." You smile, forgetting about being mad.

"I really am sorry." He says, stepping closer to you.

"So am I." You say, also taking a step closer.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, closing the space between you.

"Of course." Your smile grows even wider as his lips reach yours.

[allthornsnopetals]

Being Jealous

:Includes:

E.Bridgerton

D.Bridgerton

V.Bridgerton

:E.Bridgerton:

She simply cannot help it, especially during the debutante season.

She understands that ladies of the Ton are expected to search for Suitors and marry, after all, it is the marriage mart. But it doesn't stop the gnawing at her gut or the heated glares, that she is rather terrible at hiding.

Eloise knows, that you love her, and would 100% dodge every man in and out of the Ton for her, simply because your heart has already devoted itself to her, but again it does not dampen the rage, and her mood.

She would let the feeling simmer, simply because in society she can't do anything.

She does not mean to let it grow, simply wanting to avoid confrontation, and trying to remind herself that what you are doing is simply a ruse, and to avoid suspicion of your relationship, but that all goes to hell at some point.

It builds up over time and eventually blows up, during a ball or gather of some sorts when she finds you dancing or chatting with another eligible Suitor, who is rather obvious with his intentions.

She storms out of the room, of course with you noticing and excusing yourself, searching for her in a hidden hallway, in order to make sure that she is okay.

"El, are you okay? Is something the matter?" Said Y/n, finding her love weeping angry tears.

"Yes, everything is just fine. It's just the dust, it's burning my eyes."

Y/n chuckles, finding her poor attempt to lie, rather amusing. She drew closer to her, wiping her tears away with the pads of her thumbs, and handed her a handkerchief, tucked away in her purse. "I love you Eloise Bridgerton, but you are a terrible liar." She held her close, rubbing soothing circles on her back.

Eloise pulls away, cleaning herself up. "Well, tell that to Lord kiss-my-ass. Tell him that your heart is already full, occupied by another." Her tone was rather blunt, angry and even sad.

But Y/n simply grinned, cupping her cheek, and pecking her cheek. "If you are jealous, my love, we can leave. I can inform my mama that I am feeling unwell. And perhaps I could show you my love in a more private setting."

It takes a lot of kisses, yearning touches, and perhaps a week in the country together to reassure her.

Next time, do better at lowering your number of dances and Lords you interact with, just in case.

:D.Bridgerton:

It isn't jealous but doubt with her.

Daphne is a lot more challenging to convince, in my perspective. She begins to question your love, thinking that you would slip away from her, and marry a Lord, duke or even a prince.

Her desire for love is rather a large part of herself, so when she begins to think that you do not love her, it gets a bit sticky and even messy between you and her.

She isn't angry, like Eloise but sad, feeling as if her heart is shattering, thinking that you have changed your mind about devoting your heart to her.

She might withdraw herself, becoming distant and even avoiding you at times.

But her mama is always watching, and she notices that something is wrong.

Violet noticed her daughter longingly staring at Y/n, clearly missing her, and wanting to be near her dear friend. She does not know what is truly between them but she can tell when someone yearns to be in the presence of someone extremely dear to them.

"You have not spoken to Miss Y/n in sometime. Has something caused a breaking between you and her?" Said Violet, sitting beside her daughter, watching Y/n frolic and interact with a possible Suitor.

Daphne shook her head, but her pout made Violet think otherwise. "Sometimes friends fight, misunderstand, and even begin to feel unwanted by the person they cherish most." Violet held her hand, drawing her attention.

"Whatever it may be that caused such a drift, perhaps talking might just fix it. It might just fix the spoken feelings as well." She stood, withdrawing herself, and allowing Daphne to think.

But that is all it took. She did not want to feel this way anymore. She wanted to know if her love's heart still yearned for her, perhaps even shattered without her. She needed to speak to Y/n, and she was going to do that, now. Pulling her away without another word, Daphne guides Y/n and herself somewhere more private, away from nosy ears and eyes.

Once secure, she turns, going in for the kill. "Do you love me?" She said straight forwardly. "Do you even want me? Or even need me, like I need you?" Daphne stared right at Y/n, never tearing her gaze away from her or spilling for air.

"Am I your air as you are mine? Can you sleep without me polluting your dreams, because I cannot. You are my air, but am I yours?" Her chest batted, heaving to her uneven breaths.

"Well, tell me. Do you love me?"

The shit eating grin, curving Y/n's lips confused Daphne. "This is why you avoid me? You feel as if I do not love you? Does this have anything relating to the men of the Ton calling for me, dancing, and even socializing with me?" Y/n steps closer to her, her smile so teasing it made Daphne's heart clench so giddily, and stomach twist. She was beginning to feel, rather foolish.

"My darling, are you jealous of the men of the Ton?" Y/n caressed her cheek, causing her to draw closer.

"Perhaps a little." She confessed, making her love chuckle.

"Come here, you bimbo." Y/n drew her into her arms, swaying them both, soothing her back. "Let us stroll, I do wish for a break from the Lords and their blistering egos." Daphne chuckled, taking her darlings arm.

It took a lot of alone time together, kisses, and even gifts.

It also meant a visit to the country side for a long while, with her family of course, but mainly you and her, mending the misunderstanding.

In this she learns to trust her love, to build and understand the purpose of talking, instead of avoiding and withdrawing.

A lot of reassuring glances, touches that cannot be read more than something friendly, seeking each other at balls, and spending time together when you are both back in society.

She just wants to be 100% sure in her love, so it does take a lot of time, even after talking about it and mending a few things, to truly reassure her.

:V.Bridgerton:

You and Violet go way back, as in before the marriage mart, and the search for husbands.

Your heart will always be devoted to her, and her alone, but society is cruel, so when it is time for you to marry it makes things a lot more complicated for both you and Violet. Marrying into high dynasties, but yearning for the other.

Violet has buried her jealous glares, heated anger, and built up sadness for more than ten years.

You were both respected ladies of the Ton with children and many eyes on you. But that never stopped the hidden glances, calling hours, and nights spent with each other.

She just wished she could have you all the time and have you like your husband has you, which is why in my perspective she struggles with jealousy.

But she would never voice it of course, because this is how it is supposed to be: A lavender marriage, affairs behind their husbands backs, silent yearning, and performing their duties as ladies of their houses.

The only thing that reassures her of your love is the fact that you name one of your children after her, but this comes about when she is feeling the most insecure, and heartbroken.

"You are expecting!" Agatha squeals, pulling Y/n into a bone crushing embrace, rendering her breathless.

"This is exciting news, indeed. Isn't that right, Violet?" Said Agatha searching for the other woman. Violet blinks, her eyes becoming glassy with her throat running dry. She nods, breaking her trance. "Exciting, indeed." She chokes, sipping her tea, fighting back tears.

She was losing Y/n, sealing both their fates with her pregnancy, something she thought would be a lot easier to digest. She smiles weakly before excusing herself for the chamber pot.

Y/n knew better. She knew that the news would be hard for Violet to hear and even understand. So after the ladies visit, during the night Y/n waited for Violet at their usual spot in the gardens.

Violet was late of course, making Y/n think that she would not show up, but she did and the look on her face said it all. Pulling her into her arms, Y/n reassured her of their love, trying to convince her that it would not change how her heart beats for her.

"Why did you not tell me earlier? Why not inform me alone?" Violet questioned, sitting with her, staring out at the stars.

"I wanted to keep it a secret, until I was sure. And I also want you and Agatha to hear together, she is also my friend, Vi. It is news to be shared with my most favored girls." Y/n explained, holding her hand and resting her head on her love's shoulder.

"Lord Bridger, marries you, sleeps with you, and finally impregnates you. How do you think I am to feel about the news?" Her tone was torn, sounding like shattered glass.

Using her fingers to guide her attention back to herself, Y/n pecks a quick but loving kiss to her lips. "I did not expect you to be happy, but I do hope that you be with me during this journey. Because if there is anyone I want most by my side during my pregnancy, it's you, my love."

She still envied your husband, even after his death when it left you a shattered widow with four children.

You mourned him, as she did Edmund, making her think that you did not just care for him, but loved him.

You named your only daughter after her, as a declaration of your love, which served as a reassurance.

For Violet it is a long process of reassurance, healing her insecurities, and finally talking through it, after so long of harboring her feelings.

Violet is just very sensitive and perhaps insecure, after all, loving some of the fairer sex is challenging in your society.

[thecameronchronicles]

Unexpected

TW: mentions of pregnancy. Heavy angst. Language. Minor mention of gore.

SUMMARY: Trevor and you just learned you are going to have a baby! It would be good news if there wasn't a secret he was keeping from you...

*REQUESTED*

Anonymous Asked:

Hiii! Could you do a hellraiser trevor one shot where he gets her pregnant and realizes he's in too deep and her and his baby are going to die if he doesn't do something about it

Unexpected

It was as clear as day. Two pink lines from the third test you've taken this morning. The others only confirm that in which you already suspected.

You're pregnant.

Tears fill behind your eyes as you are terrified of what this means. Although you know there is an unspoken commitment between you and Trevor, his expression confirms that happiness isn't his first emotion, even if his own eyes are glossy.

"I'm -" You're about to apologize when he rushes to his keys set in the bowl beside the door and put to his car.

"Trevor!"

"I-I have to take care of something!"

"RIGHT NOW?" You call to him as he quickly shuffles on a pair of shoes and pulls the handle to leave.

"I'm sorry. I...I'm sorry." He takes the words from your mouth as you settle into your heartbreak in the midst of the living room. Only, you aren't left alone. Understanding there is a life within you, you steady your emotions the best you can given your accelerated hormones, and place your hand on your stomach.

"Hey in there. I promise everything is going to be okay." You rub softly, afraid even the softest of movements will somehow affect the baby. It causes you to make an appointment, which is what you do instead of dwelling on the abandonment.

Trevor accelerated through town, hitting the steering wheel with tears threatening to blur his view, before finally coming to the decrepit house on the edge. It was once beautiful and now a fortress fortified for what was to come. The things he tried to protect you from...

"Voight!" He calls, rushing through each gothic-themed room in the continuation of a seemingly useless name.

"Vo-"

"What is it?" Voight, a man struggling to breathe with the contraption punishing him for his greed, holds himself up from around the corner.

"I want out."

"Out? There is no "out"."

"Well make one! I can't be a part of this-"

"We made a deal-"

"I can't -I...I won't do it."

"You stopped having a choice when you got a taste of what you wanted and asked for more. Now you're going to help me..." He removed the cursed object that was once a cube, now more an arrowhead as he tenses. Knowing the capabilities and the torment, his skin dampens and his teeth clench.

"Please. I...I'm gonna have a kid. I can't..."

"You think pity will change things? You are so truly naive. Now do what you were hired to before I take you from the equation completely." He threatens Trevor as he is left in temporary silence.

A silence that leaves him pensive.

A silence that makes him understand the possibilities.

If his own mind wasn't desperate for some compromise, your text coming through prompted him to commit to it.

Y/N: I have an appointment at two. Not that you'll be there, just thought you should know.

"It's for you, baby. Shit-babies? It's for my family..."

A FEW HOURS LATER

"Voight?" Trevor leads the man from his rest as he follows him in conversation. Trevor plays the role of reinvigorated henchman, having kept you in the forefront of his mind. He wonders if you've eaten since you haven't been able to most of the last few days. He hopes you're resting but estimated you're probably pacing in between the thought of cursing him out and breaking up with him. Eventually, he uses the motivation of you and the unborn child to drag him from reservation and into effort.

"I was thinking what if I lured someone..." He begins to discuss a plot that piques Voight's interest. It's enough to distract him as he disguises the ruse of a get rich quick scheme and a quick job. An intriguing detail leaving suspicion on him.

"You want me to give you the device?"

"If the girl can come across it then it'll latch onto her. I'll have to get close to her. I'll be believable. Just like how I was to Y/N." The acid of his untruth burns and yet he commits.

"I'll conceal it. Get me that box from the Hennessy job." Trevor disappears before cursing at himself for his lacking wisdom to get Voight's trust.

And then comes another idea.

"The doors. Are they secure enough?"

"I made sure." Voight says as he begins to place the device away. Trevor is running out of time and he knows it.

"Last time I checked, the gear stuck. I couldn't get it-"

"You probably broke it-" He mutters, leaving the device unattended as he looks for the electrical box. Once hunched over it, Trevor carefully conceals the device in his sweatshirt and moves behind Voight.

He has to time this perfectly...

Carefully...

Without being detected...

"AHHHH! HELP ME!" Voight cries out as his hand becomes lodged between the gears. Bones and flesh crushed, he is dependent on Trevor's nonexistent mercy.

"What are you doing? I helped you!"

"I'm not risking my family." Taking out the device, he placed the opening of the end to Voight's flailing finger until it latches.

"What have you done?! After all I did for you!?"

"I tried to reason-" Voight reaches for Trevor, managing to grab a hold of his collar.

"They'll come for you. If not today-NO! NO! PLEASE! HIM! I'VE GIVEN YOU OFFERINGS-NOOOO!" Voight calls, his body contorted before he is dragged from sight. The snap of bone and tear from life is all that remains as Trevor steps quickly in the opposite direction from the nightmare taken from him. The sound of chain and the smell of iron linger and haunt him as he rushes into his car.

He takes a minute to try and erase what he saw. Just as the nausea begins to control him, he sees your bracelet hanging from his mirror. You replace and recycle his thoughts for what the future could hold. In an instant, the blood, gore, and deception shapeshift into something filled with hope and goodness.

A true light in the dark.

He rushes back through town and up through the hospital and to the OBGYN sector. Once inside, he finds you holding back tears in the waiting room.

"Trevor?" He's on his knees in front of you, hands desperately holding yours.

"I'm here, baby. Are you okay?"

"I was...anxious. I'm fine." You retract your hands, always used to being let down by him. Whether it is jobs that only last long enough to pay bills or being second choice to a bar when he's stressed, he knows now is the time to step up. He knows you need more and he wants to be that for you.

"I'm going to be better, baby. For you. For us." His hand lowers to your stomach.

"Y/N?" You get summoned, both you and Trevor on your feet. You follow behind a technician who leads you into a room stolen from most light. It reminds him of Voight's expensive dungeon. You misread this for anxiety and your shared worry drives your hand to join his.

"This is the baby..." It is more a collection of shapes than an identifiable form and yet it's yours. A join of you and Trevor. A life. A future. A revelation and a chance.

Trevor takes your hand and leads it to his mouth for a kiss.

"I promise baby, everything will be okay." You're foolishly in love with him and yet never once have seen such sincerity behind his eyes. You trust it, even if some secrets will be bound to remain just that, you clutch and hold that which you see possible.

No matter how unexpected.

MASTERLIST