#and then i had to go and catch the early train rip

[twodiamondhoes]

Being a laptop-main is so demoralizing what do you mean the train is full and so i couldn't get a table so I can write my silly stories on my way home

[nezuscribe]

it’s those infamous slytherin parties, the ones they throw after they win yet another quidditch game, but all slytherin!gojo can think about is you.

how you said you would come to the game but didn’t, how he kept looking into the crowd to see you there but you weren’t. sure, it was a long shot, after all, the two of had only just gotten closer and had it all ripped away ever since he kissed you that night.

he can feel the beat of the music in his bones, feeling the body of another girl pressed up against his and he feels nauseated.

you didn’t want to see him, that much he could piece together. you’ve avoided him wherever and whenever you could, and despite the fact that gojo prided himself in his inability to feel things, he felt his entire world slipping away from his feet the more you pretended that he didn’t exist.

you weren’t in your dorm (he knew because he asked your roommates) and he knew you weren’t in the library (he passed it by one his way here, not seeing you at your usual table), and gojo felt like he’d rather search the entire castle to find you than be here.

so that’s what he ends up doing.

he tells geto he’s leaving, don’t ask him where, and somehow manages to slither his way out into the hallways.

gojo walks around for a while, checking the library, your favorite broom closet, even the dining hall, but to no avail.

a part of him wonders if he should just go back, if he’s actually out of his mind, but he stops in his tracks when he hears something familiar.

your laugh.

he’s heard it a couple times this last week, a sound that makes his cheeks blush and his eyes to shine. he loves it. and he can tell it’s you from miles away.

so he rounds the corner, knowing that he looks unruly from his hair all tousled, his white button up wrinkled, but he doesn’t care.

and slytherin!gojo feels a part of his stomach just sink when he sees you sitting on if of those large windows, looking up as ravenclaw!nanami tells you something.

you look so angelic, so happy, and his jaw ticks, nose flaring. he should leave, he knows that, but he’s never been one to shy away, especially when it comes to something he cares so much about.

“nanami!” he calls out, watching as the two of you jump up a bit in surprise.

gojo watches as your eyes widen slightly, swallowing thickly as you glance up to nanami. he had come back from the game defeated to slytherin, but if he was stumped by that he didn’t show it on his face.

“gojo,” he says politely, nodding his head to him slightly. there’s a small smile on his face but it didn’t reach his eyes.

for a moment, nobody says anything.

“good game,” gojo then says, his eyes never leaving yours, “sorry it ended so early,” he’s just twisting the knife in deeper, but nanami chuckles.

you shift in your place, eyes trained on the ground as you smile awkwardly. you’ve been trying to not talk to gojo ever since that night, but he’s made it increasingly more difficult to do so.

“it’s alright,” nanami waves it off, glancing at you as he shrugs, “but truth be told, i do wish it went on for a bit longer,” you’re looking up at him now and gojo feels his teeth grating, wanting you to not look at this pompous creature, “we were just talking about how ironic it was that the first game she went to was cut so short.”

gojo feels his brows furrow in confusion, his air of confidence slipping slightly as he never breaks eye contact with nanami. he then looks at you briefly, catching your stare as he lets out a mirthless laugh.

“i wasn’t aware we had such a new audience today,” gojo bites out, his head tilting slightly to look at you, addressing you as you wet your lips, “i don’t think i saw you there.”

you nod slowly, fidgeting with your fingers as you laugh uncomfortably.

“yeah, um,” you start, and it’s the first time you’ve addressed him since that night. gojo cant stop looking at your lips, your face, everything, and he almost doesn’t catch it when you say, “nanami offered me a spot on the ravenclaw stands…so i went…”

gojo feels his smile drop completely, his eyes squinting as you look away, suddenly finding the wall interesting.

“well,” nanami says with another smile, triumphant as you looked at you momentarily, “i also offered to take you for a spin after the game but eh, like you said gojo,” his smooth words and demeanor make gojo clench his fists, his body rigid as his stomach churns, “it ended so early we could barely do anything.”

“hm,” gojo hums in the back of his throat, his mouth dry as he swallows once, his debonair smile coming back on his face as if nothing was wrong, “that’s all just part of the game, right?”

nanami nods, saying nothing.

gojo turns to leave, but stops for a second.

“oh, and i hope taylor preformed well enough by your standards nanami,” his eyes are watching the ways yours dart up to his, his finger motioning to you as he says your name with a lowered voice, “remember how spooked he was when we saw him last time? hope he learned his lesson not to go snooping ‘round the stands so late at night.”

gojo feels a sense of accomplishment when he sees nanami look down at you curiously, but it all washes away when you stand up abruptly, turning your back to him as you leave.

and his eyes drop when he watches nanami go after you.

[therandompagesblog]

SKZ Mate Chapter 11

Warnings: Hyunjin goes into a rut, reader orgasms, light smut, oral play, Hyunjin is feral

For the past twenty-five minutes Y/N had rearranged her bed and she didn't know why. The feeling of all the clothes on her bed was pissing her off. Even the plushies had been thrown across the wall. It wasn't like she could ask any of them for help they were all asleep. Except for Jeongin and Minho but they were outside training. Y/N had no idea what was bothering her, she had been like this ever since Chan had come back with Changbin from the gym. It was just something about his sweaty musky scent that made her feral. Fuck! Y/N had figured it out. She was missing Chan's sweaty t-shirt. Y/N threw her head back with a sigh. She couldn't go into Chan's room while he was asleep and steal his shirt but she had no idea how to settle. She picked up his clean t-shirt and ripped it out of anger like an angry pup. None of this was working out for her. Maybe if I sniff everyone's stuff. Ugh. Y/N picked up the pillow Felix rolled around on and smelled his citric scent. It was calming but not by much. Then she tried Minho's sweatshirt and buried her face in his lilac and lurch scent. She realised she had never quite smelled him before. He had a comforting but clean smell. It was as if he took pride in the way he smelled. Still, his scent didn't calm her. It was only until Hyunjins strong sickly scent had triggered her. She could smell his harsh pheromones and a slight ounce of sweat that was buried in the fabric of her blanket. His scent had excited her more than it should of and she had found herself wrapped in the blanket, pressing into it ever so slightly. It was only when she came down from her high that she realised what she had done. She had come all over the blanket Hyunjin had donated to her.

Again, without her knowing Hyunjin could feel and hear everything she had thought. It riled him and his wolf up in more ways than one, to the point it triggered Hyunjin into an early rut. He was fine with her thoughts but it was her excitement at his scent that tightened his core. His wolf was getting into a state as he could feel her little balls of lust. Hyunjin tried to switch it off but he was struggling, her little balls of lust had turned into hot wires that wrapped around his heart. Hyunjin had thrown his head back with a slight grunt, his eyes glowing red as he could see her chaotic images of him. It made him feral very quickly. Hyunjin had fallen face down on his bed shaking in desire as he tried to smell her, but all of her thoughts clouded his brain. It was too late for him and he couldn't take it anymore. The alpha had rutted straight into his bed with his hand on his burning thick red cock. He could feel her orgasm and it sent the alpha into a feral overdrive causing him to rip his pillow with his teeth. Everything in him had shut down and he lost control, to the point he had left his room to pin the obnoxious omega to Seungmins door.

His sweaty head pushed straight into Y/N's neck as he breathed in her orgasmic scent. One of his hands entangled in her hair, the other gripped her panties. The alpha growled, locking her in his grip so that she wouldn't run.

"You have no idea what you've done." Hyunjin snickered lowly as his hand swiped past her thigh, catching a drip of her slick that had seeped through. Hyunjin did not expect her slick to be so thick and silky, it angered him and caused him to pull his wet hand up to her neck to push her head up so he could attach his mouth to her pretty little neck.

"HWANG HYUNJIN!!" Chan roared, pulling the alpha off of the omega and throwing him straight into the wall behind him. Minho had arrived and pulled the confused omega into his arms, dragging her off to Chan's bathroom so she could clean herself. Minho rummaged through Chan's clothes to find something she could wear before he settled her down for the night. Once Y/N was showered and dressed Minho patted Chan's bed for her to sit. He noticed the slight pink tinge across her neck where Hyunjins hands once were.

"Silly girl." Minho chided as he dried her hair with the towel. Minho had to admit he did find it hilarious that she triggered Hyunjin's heat but at the same time, she could have seriously injured herself. Hyunjin was a feral man who lacked self-control when he had his heat.

"Right. Are you okay? Did he hurt you anywhere else?" Minho asked as he tilted her head left and right to check that Hyunjin hadn't injured her. His attentive nature surprised her consider how he acted very distant to her before.

"How did you get yourself in this mess?" Minho asked as he wrapped the towel around her head like a child.

"Something felt off in my room. I felt out of place and I tried to change it. Then I realised it was because I didn't have Chan's scent in there and then Hyunjins scent triggered me." Y/N whispered the last part out of embarrassment. Minho poked her forehead with his knuckle as he shook his head.

"How did his scent trigger you?" Minho asked curiously as he tried to find how the alpha had his rut triggered.

"I touched myself." Y/N didn't want to admit the part where she had rubbed herself all over Hyunjin's scent-covered blanket. She felt humiliated as it was.

"Oh." Minho hummed. Unsure of why she felt the need to do that. He wasn't saying females didn't have desires but the need to pleasure oneself over an alpha was something that confused him. He wondered if Y/N felt the need to fully bond with her alpha and was lacking that mated connection that only an alpha can provide.

"Next time you feel out of place Y/Nssi come and wake one of us. Do not ever ride it out alone. Alright?" Minho stated.

"Alright Minho-ah. I'm sorry." Y/N apologised but Minho ignored her and patted her wet hair.

"Come on, let's lay in Channies bed until he gets back and then Channie-ah can make it all better." Minho promised.

Minho laid down next to her, stroking her hair as he released waves of calmness at her. It was unnatural for him to care about someone in this way, but at the same time, he enjoyed it. It was nice to hold someone so close who was so fragile. It made him feel like a protector. It made him feel something.

"What is it?" Y/N asked as she noticed Minho chuckling to himself. It made her feel slightly insecure.

"I'm laughing at Hyunjin not you. Come here omega." Minho ordered even though she was next to him, he wanted her closer. He wanted to care a little more. A little deeper. Still, Minho couldn't help but snicker. He had an idea on how to antagonise the alpha a little more, considering Hyunjin hurt his favourite beta.

Chan eventually came back. His shirt slightly ripped and his hair was a complete mess. Chan's eyes held frustration but not at Y/N, only the situation.

"Are you okay?" Chan asked, deciding that this was the best approach. He still couldn't discipline her yet. She had been through too much and her body needed to heal. Chan wouldn't risk damaging her even further.

"She's fine. Little wolf got a bit distressed because she couldn't find your disgusting sweaty t-shirt so another alphas sent made her feral." Minho spat out, a hint of mischief laced in his tone. "It seems our alpha hasn't been looking after our omega properly."

"Minho" Chan warned, knowing the beta was being obnoxious for a reason.

"Alright, I'm leaving. I got things to do." Minho grinned as he got off of the bed leaving Y/N alone with Chan whose arms were crossed. He was watching her. Waiting for her to confess, but she was unsure what to say.

Chan grabbed her chin gently lifting it up so she met his eyes. Slowly he leaned forward as if he were to kiss her but he didn't.

"Omega," Chan warned knowing she didn't like that and she didn't, she growled at him, but it wasn't like her previous growls. It was a quiet growl. She didn't want to irk him as she knew she messed up.

"Is there a reason why you did not wake me?" Chan asked slowly.

"I didn't want to, you were asleep, besides I was embarrassed and I was feeling confused. I feel like I am being too trusting with my emotions. I didn't mean to upset Alpha Hyunjin." Y/N admitted. Chan felt proud knowing she saw Hyunjin as her alpha. It was progress.

"I understand." Chan cooed affectionately, nuzzling his nose against hers. "You still should have woken me or any of the wolves. Hyunjin was not supposed to have a rut for another few moons."

"I'm sorry. It got too much for me." Y/N admitted.

"What? Hyunjin's scent turned you on?" Chan asked.

"No! I was. No. I wanted you but I couldn't find your stupid shirt and then. Ugh!" Y/N rambled on as she thrashed in front of him feeling embarrassed. Chan knew Hyunjin could feel and hear everything but he didn't want to tell her yet. He didn't want to embarrass her.

"Does my omega not feel wanted enough?" Chan taunted.

"It's not that?" Y/N whined

"That is not what I asked, omega," Chan commented, standing up to watch her.

Chan turned around to grab the black t-shirt that he wore at the gym with Changbin. It wreaked of odour that would make any omega heave in disgust except for a soul mate. A soul-mated omega would find even the most disgusting things exquisite. Chan almost laughed at how easily his scent aroused her. He could almost see how wet she was. Chan ripped the t-shirt up and threw it in the fire watching her let out a mewl.

"We can either go to bed omega or I can show you how much you mean to me. It is your choice. Neither will offend me."

"I-I want you. I want to try." Y/N whispered. Chan grinned a boyish grin as he stalked over pushing her down onto his bed.

"Tell me at any point if it hurts or if it's too much. I won't fuck you. Not for a while." Chan whispered as he kissed up her neck, avoiding the mark.

"Just relax," Chan whispered, his hand ghosting over her body until it reached the hem of her nightshirt. Chan pushed it up, freeing her breasts. The sight of her exposed excited him, the thought of her trusting him with her body aroused him more. Chan's thumb brushed over her nipple, watching it harden. He gave her one look of confirmation before he latched on to her. Giving her a gentle lick with his tongue before sucking on to her bud. Y/N hummed in content as he played with her breasts but she still wasn't satisfied. The burning feeling between her legs was starting to overwhelm her.

Chan's other hand gently caressed down her thighs before landing on damned panties. Chan gave her one look as he looped his fingers around them.

"I can stop at any point. We only do what you want." Chan promised.

"Yes. Yes. Please alpha." She begged, bushing his hands further down. Chan nodded and kissed the inside of her thighs before kissing her clothed pussy. Chan pressed his nose against her and breathed in her aroma, branding it deep within his mind. As soon as he was content he pulled off her panties in one swing before taking a lick of wet pussy. Chan paid careful attention to her swollen bud, gently kissing and flicking it with his tongue. Occasionally he would change rhythm and tease her opening before forcing his tongue into her hole.

"Omega, look at me," Chan called out as he took her hands in his and entwined their fingers before he went back to fucking her with his tongue. Y/N had never had anyone hold her during intimacy and it made her feel a whole other way. As soon as Chan realised she was close he pressed his face even closer until she came, her slick falling straight into Chan's mouth. Chan licked her clean before gently stroking her sensitive bud.

"My sweet omega. Do you think you can cum for me once more, to make sure you're perfectly claimed?" Chan whispered sweetly, wanting to exhaust her a little more.

"Yes alpha. Please, I want to feel you in me." Y/N begged.

"Omega," Chan growled. "You can have my fingers buried deep in your perfect little pussy but I will not fuck you. Not until you're fully healed."

Chan pulled his head up to give Y/N a wet kiss, allowing her to taste herself on his tongue, while his finger easily slid into her wet core. Chan hadn't expected her to feel so wet and hot. She wasn't tight which meant she was comfortable enough for him so he teased another finger slowly pushing it in and out of her, allowing her to get used to him inside of her.

"Alpha, please. You're too slow." Y/N growled, tears starting to surface.

"Hmm? Am I omega?" Chan teased as he slowly picked up his pace. Her slick falling straight out of her. As soon as he quickened the omegas hand found their way straight into Chan's boxers gripping his hardened cock.

"Fuck sake omega," Chan growled, almost losing himself in her. "Omega don't worry about me. Fuck!"

"Want my alpha to come." Chan snapped his head up at her words.

"What did you say?" Chan asked as he thrusted into her hand.

"My alpha." She whined and growled. Chan smirked and quickened his pace, thrusting a little bit deeper and a little harder but not enough to reach her cervix.

"Yes. That's right my little omega. Your alpha. Your Hyunjin-"

"And Jeongin." Chan quickly put his mouth over hers in case the poor young alpha had heard. As much as she recognised him and appreciated him, he did not want Jeongin to go into a feral rut either. Hyunjins rut was bad enough and by bad enough Hyunjin was a savage. His cum had painted the entirety of the safe house bed ever since Minho had come down and thrown the slick-stained blanket of their omega into the room. The devious idea had turned into a disaster because it only made Hyunjin worse to the point Chan had to chain him to the bed once he was finished pleasing their omega.

[little-diable]

A dare to kiss - Tyler Owens (smut)

I'll keep on riding the Tyler train till my ideas run out. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Tyler and the reader have been best friends for years. But after another storm season, she finally snaps and realises she can't be around him any longer, not when her feelings for him won't let go of her. But perhaps the feelings aren't unrequited as she fears.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), friends to lovers, idiots in love, some angst, but a very happy ending

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (2.4k words)

“How old are you? Stop it, Boone!” (Y/n)’s voice dripped with annoyance, eyes flickering from her friends and colleagues down to her drink. It had been their last day of chasing, saying goodbye to another season that had been filled with exciting but also horrible moments they all haven’t quite processed just yet.

“Oh, c’mon, it’s just a kiss!” Boone excitedly clapped his hands while he let his gaze wander from (y/n) to Tyler, who was looking at her with an unreadable expression. They no longer knew who had started their annual game of truth and dare, passing a few hours where they got to spill secrets, fears, and do harmless dares to end the night with stomachs that hurt from laughing too much.

At least it had always been like that until this very dare, something that clearly went too far for her aching heart. Her feelings for Tyler were no secret, they all knew of the feelings she harboured for her best friend – all but Tyler, who obliviously chased other women while (y/n) was forced to suffer around him. 

“Give her another dare, Boone.” Tyler’s voice drew all eyes towards him, ripping their hope of finally being able to push the two of them together into shreds. They were too focused on Tyler to pick up on the hurt crossing her features. It was her own fault, she should have just kissed him, should have crossed the distance between them while the chance had been right there for her to grasp. A chance that had passed the second Tyler had spoken up.

“You know what, I’m tired anyway, I’ll head back to the motel.” She rose to her trembling feet, hands buried in the pockets of her jacket to hide the fists she had balled them into from their confused eyes. She didn’t wait for them to speak up, turned from them with an aching heart and allowed the darkness to swallow her while almost jogging back to her room. 

Even though (y/n) hated parting from the group, not wanting to leave them that early on their last evening together, she needed to be alone with her thoughts for a while. Staying this close to Tyler for the past weeks had been more exhausting than she had thought it would be, unable to endure his closeness any longer. She should look forward to returning home, to quiet hours where she won’t have to worry about hiding the feelings she hadn’t been able to let go of for the past years. 

The door to her room fell shut behind her, letting the silence wrap itself around (y/n) while she wiped away the tears that had started to fall. Curses rumbled through her, she felt as if she was drowning, unable to breathe while the room closed in on her. Her body started moving without listening to her mind's command. She threw all her stuff into her bag, hastily reaching for her things as her vision grew more blurry. 

She needed to get away, needed to make it home, she couldn’t stand being around him for another minute. She left the room with her heart in her throat, forced to a sudden halt before she could collide with Dexter. His hands shot out to catch her should she fall, drawing her tear stained features up towards him. 

“Oh, (y/n). What’s going on?” She let her head fall against his chest, searching the closeness of the man who had always treated her like his daughter, the first one she had told her feelings for Tyler to. A sob wrecked through her, forcing him to tighten his hold on her to keep (y/n) close. 

“I need to leave, I can’t do this any longer, Dexter. Here, this is my room key.” She pushed the key into his hand, trusting him to take care of checking her out in the morning. His hand ran up and down her spine in a comforting manner, set on soothing the pain she felt all too clearly. Another sob left (y/n) before she stepped out of the embrace. “Tell the others I’m sorry and that I’ll reach out soon.”

(Y/n) squeezed his hand one last time, trying to put on a soft smile for the man who stared down at her with pity swimming in his pupils. She felt his eyes on her as she jogged towards her truck, set on driving through the night to make it home before the sun would paint the horizon in bleeding colours.

……

“Hey, it’s me again. It’s been a while, and I really need to see you, (y/n). We need to talk, call me back, please.” 

She woke to new voice messages every single day since leaving a few weeks ago. At first Tyler had voiced out his disappointment and confusion, not understanding why she had left him just like that. And then the sadness had entered the picture, begging (y/n) to call him back because he missed her and was sorry for whatever he had done to her. And now his voice no longer carry any emotions, monotonous and unfamiliar without any nicknames he’d normally use. 

(Y/n) knew it was time for her to finally reach out to him, to bury her own sadness and her embarrassment and to call her best friend, if she could still call him that. Her hands shook as she clicked onto his contact, listening to it ring five times before he answered with a whisper of her name. 

“Hi,” no further word managed to leave her. She listened to him exhale, shuffle around before speaking up.

“Are you at home today? I’d come round to see you.” A part of her screamed at her to say no, knowing that she shouldn't meet him at home, the one place where she had managed to focus on her feelings, giving her space to think about them properly. But the stronger part knew it would be less awkward to see him here than somewhere else where they could easily run into fans. 

“I am.” His hum shot shudders down her spine, forcing her to fist the blanket she had tossed over her cold legs. 

“I’ll be over around three, see you then.” He ended the call before another word could leave her. Her stomach was churning, not used to his cold voice and how he spoke to her as if she was a business contact or a stranger almost. 

(Y/n) let her phone drop into her lap while she sank further into her couch. What would she even tell Tyler? She wasn’t ready for his rejection, wasn’t ready to mess up what was still remaining of their friendship. Even though she couldn’t stand being close to him for longer than a few hours, (y/n) also knew that life without Tyler by her side wasn’t worth living. 

……

“There you go.” She pushed the coffee towards Tyler who was leaning against the kitchen island, right across from her. His eyes followed her every move, ever since a rather awkward hug and exchanged pleasantries that felt as if they didn’t know one another at all. He shot her a grateful smile before taking a sip, not letting his gaze leave her nervous features once. “How are you?”

“Cut the bullshit, (y/n). Wanna tell me why my best friend ran from me and then decided to ghost me for the past weeks?” Her heart sank, letting her guilt settle deep inside her stomach. Her eyes found interest in studying her trembling hands, not daring to get lost in Tyler’s angry expression. 

“I’m sorry, I was just so exhausted with it all. I needed some time away.” A humourless laugh clawed through Tyler, a sound that finally forced her eyes back towards him. 

“You’ve never been good at lying. What is this really about, huh? Why did the others all seem to understand what’s going on, but you couldn’t tell me?” His voice carried his hurt, dripping with sadness and anger she also felt flushing through her system. 

“It's nothing you need to worry-“ the sound of his palm coming down on her kitchen island interrupted her, forcing her pupils to widen as he shook his head at her. It felt as if she was looking at a stranger, not once had she seen Tyler this hurt and angry, never directed at her at least.

“Just be honest, (y/n)! I’m supposed to be your best friend, or is this what this all is about? Do you no longer want to be-“ now it was on her to interrupt him.

“It’s because I’m in love with you, you idiot!” And then they were engulfed by nothing but silence. The seconds faded by, turning into almost a full minute of Tyler just staring at her with an unreadable expression. It seemed as if he was combing through his every moment with her, reliving all the past years to figure out how he could have missed this. His silence forced her lips to part again, knowing that she needed to say some more. 

“I tried to let go of it, I really did. But being around you made it impossible for me. I am sorry, I just needed some time alone. And then that dare, I wanted to kiss you so badly, but it would have been my end, and I couldn’t risk losing that last shred of sanity I had in me.” Her whispers lured Tyler closer, letting her watch him round the kitchen island to come to a halt in front of her. 

“Look at me, darling.” Her heart skipped a beat at the use of the nickname, taking some fear from her trembling body. Slowly she raised her gaze, looking up at him with glassy eyes as he cupped her cheeks with his big hands. “I’m sorry it took me this long to see it, but I was quite occupied with hiding my own feelings from you.”

Tyler’s words left her frozen, staring at him with confusion laced in her gaze. Her mind was racing, letting his words sink in to understand what he had just told her. A soft chuckle rumbled through him, “Will you let me kiss you? No dare this time.” 

She shifted her weight onto her toes, letting her lips collide with his. Tyler instantly replied to the touch, kissing (y/n) breathless while his hands moved down her sides. She deepened the kiss with a soft moan clawing through her, allowing his tongue to meet hers. Both their hearts were racing, pounding in their chests as if they had just returned from another chase, losing themselves in the adrenaline that still buzzed through them. 

Tyler parted from her for a moment, hands wandering down her thighs to pick her up and place her down on the kitchen island. For the first time since she had started being with partners, she truly felt weightless, trusting Tyler fully with whatever he had in mind. Slowly, he connected their lips again, kissing her to stop her racing thoughts from overthinking what was about to happen.

“Do you want this? Do you want to be touched by me?” His voice was raspy, deeper than it had been before - details that made her walls flutter in excitement. 

“Please, touch me, Tyler.” The hum he let go of was drowned out by her gasp as he pushed her back down on the kitchen island, feeling his wandering hands find their way to her pair of shorts. He pulled the fabric down her legs, panties following moments later to expose her lower body to his piercing eyes.

“What a beautiful sight, it was worth waiting for all these years.” Heat rose up her neck, spurred on by his praises. Carefully he touched her, letting his fingers brush through her slit, spreading her arousal on her skin. Goosebumps littered her body as if she was trapped in a cold room, unable to stop shaking. And yet her body was burning up, set ablaze by his touch. 

“I need to taste you, can I, baby?” Nothing but a moaned “yes” left (y/n). His tongue felt rough against her pulsing bundle, letting the sensation zap through her aching body like lighting. She tried to find something to hold on to, and yet her fingers could only wander to his head to tug on his almost golden roots. 

“Jesus fuck, why haven’t we done this sooner?” (Y/n)’s words left Tyler chuckling against her heat. The sound vibrated on her skin, pushing her even closer towards the edge.

“Seems like I ain’t doing my job well enough if you can still speak.” He was urging himself to move his tongue quicker while pushing two fingers into her heat. Her walls clenched around his fingers, drawing him even closer in while her orgasm crept closer and closer. A moan clawed through (y/n), letting it reverberate through the air as Tyler sucked on her pulsing bundle. 

“Atta girl, I got you, pretty.” He comforted her, cozied her along to finally push her over the edge. His name left her parted lips like a prayer, unable to think of any other thing to say as she felt the blinding sensation wander up her limbs. (Y/n) came without a warning, back arched off the cold kitchen island top. 

Tyler kept lapping at her folds to guide her through her high before he pressed one last kiss to her inner thigh. He moved up her body, hands stroking their way up her sides until he cupped her warm cheeks to pull her in for a kiss. 

“I love you, darling, and I promise to make up for all the time we’ve lost.” 

[ravenromanova]

Punishments

Parings: Wandanat x female avenger

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT!!! DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNDERAGE!!!!!! Mommy kink, Daddy kink, Sub space, Edging, Denial, Bondage, Oral, Fingering, Squirting, Overstimulation. DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNDER 18!!!!!

Masterlist - Send me requests!!!

This fic came from this request! I hope i did it justice :)

~

You tried to stifle your laughter as you ran down the hall to your room. Once you finally reached your room you didn’t even bother locking the door knowing nothing could stop them. The pranks you pulled on your girlfriends may have backfired a little but it was funny as hell.

It started with you hiding Natasha’s widow bites right before a mission, then you and switched the sugar and salt on Wanda the same say. And as the days went on you kept being a menace to your girlfriends. It didn’t bother them at first since the pranks were mainly harmless. That was until today when you decided to prank them by saying you got really hurt during training and made them come home early from their mission. Let’s just say the look they both gave you when they saw you were fine sent fear down your spine.

They told you they were giving you a few minute head start and to run so that’s what you did. You ran to your room even though you knew it wasn’t going to do anything. And in all reality Wanda and Nat had already been on the way home from their mission when they got your text but you didn’t need to know that. For them they wanted to punish you for causing fear to run through their veins and being a brat as of late.

So they let you get a five minute head start before they slowly made their way to your room. And when they got to your room you were already on the bed sitting on your knees with your palms up.

“Looks like someone knows they fucked up” Wanda says laughing a little bit at your attempt to be a good girl.

“Don’t think this one good act will get you out of being punished Detka” Natasha croons as she sits behind you on the bed. Her fingers slowly brush over your shoulder blades and you shiver at her touch.

“You’ve been so bad these last couple of weeks and we’ve let it slide but this..you need to be punished for” She adds giving you a gentle kiss at the base of your neck.

Wanda moves so she’s in front of you and she takes you chin in between her fingers and your eyes meet hers. She gives you a soft kiss that you knew is luring you into a false sense of security.

The two women share a knowing look before Wanda flicks her wrist and your clothes suddenly disappear. You shiver when you feel the cool air hit your skin and you felt your skin become littered with goosebumps. Both of Wanda’s hands find your shoulders and gently pushes you back against the bed as Natasha moves to your side.

“So pretty” Natasha coos running her nimble fingers down your exposed skin. She sits next to you and attaches her lips around your nipple making you gasp in pleasure.

Wanda moves in between your thighs and uses her magic to restrain your hands. You tug on the restraints but the red tendrils of magic squeeze your wrists tighter. Wanda kisses down your stomach and then moves to your thighs before stopping at your core. The sokovian slowly licks your waiting pussy and you moan in pleasure and surprise. Between Natasha sucking and licking your nipples with fever and Wanda kiss your clit you mewl.

What you didnt know was that both women were going to bring you to the brink and then rip it away from you. They were like lions hunting their prey. Wanda started to suck your clit and ate you like a woman starved. You squirmed underneath her and the russian making them smile in unison.

”You’re so pretty bunny” Natasha cooed in your ear kissing below it. You shiver as her cool breath hits your skin.

Wanda was quick to bring your attention back to her and she shoved two fingers into you unexpectedly. Your back arched off the bed as you try to catch your breathe but inevitably fail. She sets a hard and relentless pace hitting your g-spot every time.

“So fucking wet” Her accent slipped out when she spoke making you and Natasha share a look of lust. The two women were so enthralled with you that they almost forgot about your punishment. But unfortunately for you they didn’t and just as you were about to cum Wanda and Natasha ceased their movements.

“W-What?” You whined pouting at the both of them.

“Did you really think we were gonna let you off the look that easily?” Wanda snarked gripping your chin.

“You made us think you were hurt… You scared us” Natasha said and you heard a hint of fear in her voice. “You need to be taught a lesson” She finished speaking and switched places with Wanda.

“I-Im sorry! Mommy please” You beg Wanda as she comes closer to your face. She laughs before she gives you a light slap against your cheek.

“Shut up” She said in her stern tone that she knew made you fall into your sub space. You looked up at her with doe eyes that nearly made her melt. The way you looked at her she knew you were fully submitting to her her and Natasha.

“I-I’m sorry mommy i didn’t mean it” You said trying to free your hands but it was still no use.

“Say you’re sorry to daddy” Wanda pointed towards Natasha who was laying on your thigh with a devilish smirk.

“I’m sorry daddy” You apologized with sincerity to Natasha making her smile.

“It’s okay bunny but you still need to be punished okay?” She ran her hand up your thigh and started to play with your clit.

You gasped in pleasure feeling Natasha’s warm mouth on your clit. She licked you as if she was on a mission and to her she was. That’s when Wanda undid the restraints on your hands and they immediately flew to her hair bringing her into a kiss. Wanda gratefully accepted your kiss and held you close to her as she did. The two of you got lost in the kiss so lost that it wasn’t until Natasha stuck two fingers in you that you broke the kiss.

You looked back at Natasha who had a smirk on her face as she hit your most sensitive spots. Your hands went from Wanda’s hair to the sheets gripping them in pleasure. The band in your stomach was about to break it was so close until.

“Stop” Wanda commanded and Natasha ceased her assault on your pussy.

“Fuck!” You screamed out in agony as your orgasm was ripped away from you again. Wanda smacked your mouth again making you moan out.

“Watch your mouth” She said and you sunk back into the mattress nodding your head mumbling an ‘i’m sorry.’ Wanda then brought you in for a sweet kiss signaling for Natasha to start fucking you again.

Three fingers where then found their way back inside you and you cried out in pleasure. Natasha pumped her fingers in and out slowly at first making sure you felt all of her. You nearly finished when you felt her press up against your g-spot.

“i-Im gonna cum. Please can i cum?” You begged both of them gripping onto Wanda’s shoulders as she kissed your collarbone.

“Cum” Natasha commanded watching the way your pussy sucked in her fingers with delight.

Your back arched off the bed and you came with a guttural moan making the women groan in satisfaction.

Natasha slowly pulled her fingers out of you and licked them with a smile on her face. Her and Wanda shared another look and they both ended up getting the same idea. They switched places again and Wanda ended up between your thighs again then started to play with you again.

“One more bunny” Wanda cooed slowly circling your clit.

“No” You shook your head. “Please mommy i can’t too sensitive” Your words fell on deaf ears and your words cut off by Natasha’s mouth in yours.

You moaned into Natasha’s mouth as you felt Wanda’s lips circle around your clit. She sucked on your clit with intent and slowly added two fingers into you. The coil that had just went away was very quickly building back up once Natasha started playing with your nipples. Her fingers started to tug and pinch your nipples making you mewl in her touch.

Your head was spinning at the pleasure you were feeling. “OH SHIT!” You moaned back arching off the bed as you finished and ended up squirting on Wanda’s face.

“Oh what a good girl” She praised licking up everything that dripped out of you. Natasha quickly got jealous that Wanda was the one to make you squirt and she straddled your waist. She then dipped her head down and licked up what was left of your mess. Her and Wanda shared a heated kiss both moaning when they tasted you on their tongues.

“You taste so good detka” Natasha praised bringing you in for a kiss and Wanda comes back up to your head. You smile at the both of them in a fucked out haze.

“We need to clean you up” Wanda said softly as she tried to bring you back to earth. You opened your eyes and looked at her before shaking your head no.

“Come on babygirl let’s take a bath” Natasha tried to coax you but you just grumbled at her. Both women chuckled at your antics before Wanda used her magic to start running a bath and Natasha swiftly picked you up.

They slowly put you into the warm water and you felt your muscles slowly relax. Both of them cleaned you up being careful not to overstimulate you more. And after the bath was over they got you dressed before the three of you all climbed into bed together.

Soon you fell into a peaceful sleep next to the two women you loved. Who knew that that prank would actually turn out in your favor?

~The end~

[lizardho]

I think the worst day I had as a missionary is hard to pin down – for comedy bad day stories, I like to talk about my cute companion who ripped three pairs of pants in one day because his ass was so fat. Literally, two in the morning, we missed 3 appointments in the afternoon because people kept cancelling on us, and we ended up far away from home visiting “Less Actives” in the downtown area. We find a family who says we can come in once their dad get home, and we sit down to wait for the dad to get in and RIIIPPP goes the third pair of slacks this man wore that day. I hand him my suit jacket and he wraps it around his waist like a bashful adolescent who just started his period at an inconvenient time. We catch a ride home on a bus and ended up home an hour early. He cried for like 30 minutes while stitching up his pants, and I got to rest a lot more than expected that day. We ordered a 4-cheese pizza and went to bed early that night, having walked probably 5-6 miles that day knocking doors and getting turned away.

Another bad day was the day the Mexico City Temple was re-opening. It was a funny experience for me because the evening before I was contacted by the Mission President and told that an elder in our district had confessed some serious sins to him and that those sins precluded him from going to the temple. The MP told me that nobody in this elder’s ward could get time off to babysit him so he was begging one of us – I didn’t want to go to the temple, it was a crappy way to spend a P-Day in my opinion, so I told the MP I’d do it. I spent the day eating popsicles and napping with an elder who, in between Bolis and naps, would shakily and tearfully confess that no fewer than half of his companions had secret phones they used to watch porn, hire prostitutes, and buy drugs. This was bewildering to me since I had been Trying So Hard my whole mission and had always felt inadequate, and these elders who were doing better than me and more respected than me were somehow out here fucking, doing drugs, and jorkin’ it.

I was actually in a “Punishment Area” at the time because in my last area one of my life-threateningly attractive companions had gone into the homes of widows to repair their electrical wirings (he was a trained electrician prior to going on a mission.) Being alone in the home of an 80-year-old widow with failing lights was “against the rules” to the extent that me mandaron a la goma, and some handful of guys I’d been told to view as role models were out here breaking actual laws and shit. Of course, I knew in my heart of hearts that I was in this area because of the Deep Evil that Lay Within My Heart (wanting to kiss Elder Electrician on his stupid himbo lips) but my MP could not have known that, just like he didn’t know that the guys he was making Zone Leaders were getting their dicks sucked and snorting cocaine. That honestly felt outrageous to me.

I feel like the stereotypical “worst day” of a mission is the last day – they take you to the airport in a big van, all melancholy and nostalgic. We sang on our drive to the airport – elders and sisters tearfully sang or hummed hymns together. I was deadpan the whole time, it was such a relief to be going home. For me the worst part of the day was the relief – the release of pressure. The pressure to perform, to be “on,” to be at your best, is omnipresent for elders. I was the only person flying to Phoenix, so for the first time in two years I felt a release from that pressure. Nobody was scrutinizing me, I no longer felt that every thought, action, and feeling was being evaluated and judged as a sign of my true character. It was hard to realize, a the pressure let up, that I had been holding all that weight for two years without knowing when it had started. I remember getting confused in Customs and needing someone who spoke Spanish to talk to me because I kept forgetting words in English. I remember getting home and my family waiting for me and feeling like it was all finally done, finally over, I could finally breath. It didn’t feel bad, but it did feel heavy. And it definitely was not the worst day of my mission.

The actual worst day of my mission, though, was about 5 months in. At the 6-month mark I was expected to make a long trip down to an area of town near La Basilica de Guadalupe to submit my visa paperwork, and the mission office had sent me an extra $500 MX to use for transportation costs. When I withdrew the money they had sent for the month, I noticed it was higher than expected. My companion, a senior companion and district leader, had the cell phone. He was talking to another elder while he waited for me to withdraw my monthly deposit. I approached and asked if I could use the cell phone to call the mission office, as I had questions. He said “no,” and ignored me. I waited until the conversation ended and asked again, and again, angrily, he said, “No.” I said “Elder, relax, I just need to call the mission office to see why they sent me more this month than usual.” His face turned red as he realized other elders were watching the exchange occur. He handed me the phone, I called and was told the money was for transportation costs, and laughingly returned the phone to my companion. He took it, told the other elders he needed to tie his shoe but they could head on over to the District Meeting, and waited until they were out of eyesight. Once that was done, he grabbed me hard by the wrist, dragged me into a hidden corner out of earshot from others, and said, “If you ever disrespect me or my authority again I swear to God I will kill you.”

I was actually shocked. This guy had spent the last month and a half being SUPER nice to me, so I thought he was kidding and I was just confused. I laughed and said “Haha, yeah, your authority over the cell phone is sacred,” and tried to walk away but he didn’t let go of my wrist. He pulled me back and said “I will literally slit your throat if you ever talk to me like that again. As senior companion my authority over YOU is sacred, and I will not let God be mocked by you.”

I realized that he was serious. Like, actually threatening-my-life serious. I could see it in his eyes, I could feel it in the way he squeezed tighter on my wrist. In actuality, the idea seems laughable now. The guy was absolutely chickenshit. He cried if his shits were too hard, he couldn’t end a human life, but I still didn’t let myself fall asleep first for the rest of our time together. And I still hid the two knives we had in a different area while he was showering the next morning.

If I’m being honest though, even that wasn’t the worst day of my mission. That was bad, and each subsequent time he told me he was going to cut my throat for minor infractions against his God-Given Authority Over Me (like not wearing a belt for morning scripture study, or not taking the path he thought was best to get to a lesson) was a bad day. Every P-Day where he read my emails over my shoulder to make sure I wasn’t telling my parents about how he was treating me, every day he told me that the ward members would never believe me over him, every day he put me down in front of other elders and they laughed in agreement, every day he was in a bad mood and took it out on me was a bad day. But the worst day was the day I told the mission president about it. I told him about the threats to my life, his temper, his physical abuse, hiss manipulation and rule-breaking, and the mission president told me “The time to tell me this was 6 months ago. The time to forgive him and focus on your own failings is now.”

I don’t think I’ve ever felt as confused or betrayed as I did then. Like, man oh man, that was a rough thing to hear, but as the day went on I kept feeling more and more confused and scared – had I misinterpreted everything? Had I miscommunicated something in telling the story? Had I not been objective enough in recounting the threats against my life? Was it true that a senior companion actually had the authority to hurt me if I went against his authority? Was I wrong the whole time? I had no idea, to be honest, but it was bewildering.

Knowing now what I wish I had known then, I would have done things differently. But in the moment, on a mission, knowing that my biggest reason for going on a mission was the hope that the Spirit of God, which hymns told me burns like fire, would burn the faggot out of my heart. I think I felt like I deserved it. Like somehow that elder knew the evil I was hiding and felt compelled by God’s power to hurt me. I think that’s what made it so hard to defend myself in the moment – I did not have that problem with other elders. The companion who told me we were gonna wrestle to settle an argument lost three consecutive matches and pouted about it for like a week. The elder who threatened to punch me for making a joke at his expense got knocked on his ass just for raising his fist. But this elder got into my head first, and that made it hard to fight against it. Instead of fighting against it, I just silently lived with actual, verifiable, diagnosed, by-the-book, DSM-5-TR Posttraumatic Stress Disorder because I thought I deserved it. It took consistent supervision of my clinical work revealing countertransference with Male LDS clients (I consistently discussed addressing shame in a client’s presentation where no shame or discomfort had been reported), an awkward conversation with @inbabylontheywept after an even more awkward dinner with a cousin who vaguely reminds me of that companion, and a bad acid trip where I had visceral flashbacks to my mission, before I was able to realize that I was living with a pain that was as abnormal as it was unnecessary.

Even once I realized it, even once I got help, it was hard. I remember telling jokes about what happened to my therapist and seeing her jaw just…drop. She said she didn’t know it had been that dangerous for me. The session ended and he sent me the PCL-5 (a good, evidence-based, highly face-valid measure for PTSD) and some other measure for dissociative symptoms and I was like “Girl, I just took this class, I know what you’re trying to measure and this ain’t it.” I reported my symptoms accurately and was fully prepped to confront her the next session. She showed me my scores and the norms used, and I was like “Oh fuck, this looks really bad on paper,” and she was like “Yeah, I can’t imagine living like this” and I just sobbed for most of that session. We ended up doing 9 months of TF-CBT and ACT (largely because I am a terrible and uncooperative patient, realistically I think I could have been done in like 5-6 months if I wasn’t so stubborn) before I was discharged from treatment successfully.

The thing that was so weird about starting therapy for PTSD was that it made things feel worse for a while. I started taking edibles a lot more. I started behaving differently around family members and Mormons. I started being outright hostile to elders I could see. It took about 3 months before I could see the missionaries and not have an actual fight-or-flight response to their presence. I think the way I had made it a far as I did without getting treatment was by repressing the thoughts, feelings, and memories that made it all hurt, and a soon as I let them just be there it was like all the confusing aching hurt came back. The first few months of therapy were just spent expanding the amount of time I could feel that hurt before turning to other means (like dissociation, cannabis, repression, etc.) so I could actually address the experiences without crashing the rest of the day. It was hard. I know I ended several sessions sweating a LOT from the exertion it took to just let the feelings happen. By 6 months, however, I could go into a church building without blacking out from panic. By 9 months I could sit in the same room as elders without sweating and shaking like a chihuahua on Adderall. 3 months after therapy and me and my supervisors noticed that my work with Mormon men had improved substantially. 6 months after therapy and I was able to begin writing anonymous stories online. Now, about two years after completing therapy, I feel like I can talk about it without needing the cloak of anonymity, and that is empowering.

Again, I am not sure why I’m typing these stories out – they’re not fun to write, I don’t love that my family can find these posts, but I guess I just like to remind myself and others that it can always get better. That mind numbing platitude, the old thought-terminating cliché that “it gets better, just power through it” doesn’t give enough credit to how much it hurts to get through it, but it does get better. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. The triggers can go away with time, great effort, significant expense, and a lot of discomfort. The world can feel safe again, the hurt can feel bearable, that nagging worry that I might have deserved this, or that I did something wrong, can eventually go away too. It’s not easy to do it, and I have an incredible respect for the patients of mine who can pull it off, but it is undeniably as doable a it is difficult. If this story resonates with anyone, if it feels close-to-home, if these experiences feel shared, just know that the relief I talked about can feel shared too. Know that it’s worth it to get the help, that you deserve the help, that you deserve to live a life that doesn’t hurt you, that you deserve to be a full person and not a living prison for the pain and memories. Know that healing yourself does not involve extending forgiveness to Them, whoever They are. That the pain you felt will not be made less important by making the pain less potent. Know that taking care of yourself now is, in a way, taking care of yourself then. And Please, with a capital P, take care of yourselves.

Thank you to my family, especially my immediate family (special shout outs to @flowerologists and @inbabylontheywept) for the support and patience with me as I dealt with this.

Thank you to my therapist, Jordin Borques, who I recommend highly to anyone seeking trauma therapy in Arizona.

Thank you to my wife, @cintailed, for being the push that got me into therapy, and for taking care of me at my worst and still being here with me.

Thanks to my mission president for being such a colossal disappointment to Christianity that my departure from the church was inevitable.

And a general thanks to the queers for being so cute and making life worth living, even on bad days.

[girlgenius1111]

screaming underwater

barça x teen reader. r is dealing with mistreatment on her national team. the barça girls find out. warnings: descriptions of aforementioned mistreatment by national team.

------

The news came out of nowhere. One minute, Alexia, Pina, Patri, and Mapi were at a restaurant eating lunch, and the next, Pina was staring at her phone in horror, all the color drained out of her face. 

“Clau? What’s up?” Patri asked, catching the look on her best friend’s face. This halted the conversation between the other 2 girls, and Alexia and Mapi both turned to their younger teammate in concern. 

Claudia shook her head, remaining silent as she handed her phone to Patri, standing up and leaving the table. 

“I need some air,” she said shakily. Alexia and Mapi exchanged looks, focusing their attention back on Patri for the moment. Patri had a rather similar reaction to Pina’s, practically shoving the phone into Mapi’s hand, and taking off towards the door her best friend had left through. 

“My god. Mapi, let me see.” Alexia complained, moving over so she could read over Mapi’s shoulder. 

She read the whole article, finishing just after Mapi did. The defender was looking up at her captain, distraught. 

“Fuck.” Alexia said. “Shit. Okay. We’ll go find Clau and Patri, and then we’ll call pequeña.” 

Alexia was always a voice of reason, and Mapi nodded gratefully, rising to her feet, throwing some cash on the table, and heading out of the restaurant. 

There was no longer any question of why her teammates had reacted the way they did. The contents of that article felt eerily similar. And if they were true, they had a lot to be worried about. 

-----

You’d finished your morning training session, pulling out your phone the minute you returned to your hotel room, and saw the article. First, though, you had to scroll through the messages upon messages from your teammates expressing their concern. You didn’t spend too long reading those, knowing it would likely be too much for you right now. 

It wasn’t as bad as it could have been; there were a lot of details omitted, some of the more worrying details. Still, it was more than the people in charge would want leaked to the media, especially when it painted them as the villains. 

In short, the article detailed, via anonymous interviews with some of your teammates, the conditions that your u23 national team was under. Your coach was vile, the training staff always following his lead. There were recovery specialists that many of you guys refused to work with. The personnel themselves were an issue. More than that, though, what they did was the biggest problem. The team hadn’t been performing very well, and as a consequence, you and your teammates were being worked half to death. Running until you dropped, scrimmaging until you couldn’t feel your legs anymore. You were woken early in the morning for extra workouts, and kept up late to go over film. It was constant, exhausting, and completely demoralizing. The way you were spoken too was no better than what your body was being put through. Your coach had apparently decided that the right way to motivate the team was to rip everyone to shreds. He hurled cruel insults at you and your teammates. He didn’t just go after your playing abilities; he went after your fitness, your weight, your personal life, your personality, your appearance, your relationships within the team. There were no boundaries. There was no way to say no, no way to make it stop. 

You were determined to handle it. You didn’t know any different when it came to your national team. Granted, it had never been this bad before, not in all your time with the team. You wanted it handled internally. You saw what your Spanish teammates went through when they tried to make a change, and their suffering wasn’t something you were willing to bring upon yourself and your teammates. You guys were all young, under the age of 23. If your Spanish teammates that were full adults couldn’t do it without winning a world cup, what chance did a bunch of kids have? No one would listen, it would only make it worse. Although, somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew you were suffering far more than you would be if you refused your call up. You didn’t give up, and you didn't ask for help. You’d never had the ability to do so, always wanting to be independent. International breaks became something you dreaded deeply, and something you attended all the same. It was a stagnant, constant torture, constant weight on your shoulders. Nothing really seemed like it would cause a change. 

Until the article was published. 

You didn’t know who’d spoken to the journalist, but you didn’t fault them. Though you’d never admit it, you were secretly glad that someone had been braver than you. Still, the verbal lashing you and your teammates got later that day was borderline abusive. The following punishment was worse. Your coach led the team to the stadium, into the stands, and instructed you all to begin running the stadium steps, until he felt you’d “learned your lesson.” 

No one spoke up, no one argued. Everyone just set off with a resigned sigh. You all ran for a while. What must have been at least an hour, in the hot sun. Up and down and back up again. Until the world was spinning around you, and even though everyone asked for a water break, one was not given. You all kept going. 

You went until you dropped, literally. Until you missed a step, fell forward, and smashed your head on the seat next to you. The pain in your whole body ceased, briefly, before it erupted again in your head, and then everything went black. 

-----

At least you could leave early without seeming like a coward. No one could argue against the decision the team doctors had come to; you had a large gash on your forehead that needed stitches, a black eye, and a mild concussion. Your coach sneered at you, but dismissed you all the same, leaving you with a warning to remember to keep the team’s best interest in mind. You knew this meant that he expected you to remain silent, as you had been until this point. You planned to. What you didn’t necessarily plan for was your club teammates. You should have considered them, but you didn’t. That was your second mistake. The first was barely responding to anyone’s texts and calls after the article was published. You didn’t even tell anyone you were going home. Deciding the medical announcement from the team would be enough, you boarded your flight to Barcelona, completely ignoring the flood of messages you were receiving. 

You just wanted to go home. Lay in your bed where you were safe, and far from the people that seemed hell bent on making your life a living hell several weeks out of the year. You didn’t want to talk, you didn’t want to see anyone. You ignored the multitude of texts from Pina, Patri, Mapi, Alexia, and Marta, asking you if you needed a ride home from the airport. You Ubered home from the airport instead, barely making it through your door before you tossed your bag aside and collapsed into your bed. 

In order to avoid a break in from your teammates, you pulled your phone out before you fell asleep, opening your text thread with Alexia. 

Nena, I saw the article. Call me.

Are you okay?

Please respond, nena, we’re really worried about you.

Jona called, I heard about your injury. Are you okay?

When are you coming home?

When does your flight land?

Nena, please. Just message something to let me know you got home okay. 

You sighed. You didn’t want to talk. Talking would only make it worse, you were sure. It hadn’t been that bad, not really. It was normal, a little harsh, but the team had been playing so poorly, what did you all expect? Rationalizing it was all you could do, really. 

Hola Capi. I’m okay, I’m home now. Everything is fine, really. Don’t worry. 

Alexia responded barely a minute after you’d hit send. 

Okay, nena. If you need to talk, we’re all around for you, okay? Please, please call me if you need me, for anything. We can talk more tomorrow when you come for your medical eval. It’s at 9am and Mapi and I have media stuff then, but Pina and Patri are going to pick you up. Rest a lot, I’ll see you tomorrow. 

Even though you were comfortably curled up in bed, incredibly sleep deprived, and concussed, you couldn’t fall asleep right away. You were rather busy trying to figure out how to act tomorrow. You felt so… weighed down from everything that had happened. You looked in the mirror barely recognizing yourself, and it had nothing to do with your injuries. You didn’t feel like you. You felt like the empty version of yourself that always returned from national duty, but 10x worse. You didn’t think you could smile if you tried. Convincing your teammates that you were okay was going to take a lot of energy that you simply didn’t have. You couldn’t do it, you were too exhausted, in the very core of your being. You fell into a fitful sleep, setting your alarm for the next morning even though it was only early evening and you hadn’t eaten anything. You weren’t sure how to act, or how to play this. All you knew was that letting anyone see how badly you were hurting was not an option. 

-----

Your car ride to the Barça training grounds was painfully quiet. Pina and Patri had given up all attempts at making conversation; you’d made it clear that you didn’t want to talk. Neither of them were sure what to make of you right now. Your voice was steady, your body language rigid. You had a pair of huge sunglasses on, though, and a hood tugged up over your head. Neither of them could get a good glimpse at your face, to check on your injuries, or to see how you were really feeling. They supposed this was the point. Their worry only grew when you caught Patri’s arm before heading to the medical center. Her and Pina were headed for the locker room, but they both stopped in their tracks, looking back at you. 

You wanted to thank them. Not just for picking you up, but for bringing you coffee and a granola bar, and the comforting way they both squeezed your hand when they saw you. 

“Thanks for driving me. I really appreciate it.” You said softly. You never spoke quietly; you were incapable of doing so, normally. Today, however, both girls had to lean in to hear what you were saying. 

“Of course.” Patri replied. Your eyes fell back to the floor underneath you, and you headed off without another word, leaving two very concerned teammates in your wake. 

Patri stopped Pina just before walking into the locker room, very suddenly pulling the younger girl into a tight hug and not letting go. 

“Patri. Why are you suffocating me?” Claudia asked after a minute. 

The midfielder didn’t let up. “She’s acting like you did. After the last international break. I really don’t like it.” She explained. 

Claudia pulled away, shaking her head. She didn’t like to think about that. “I’m fine, Patri. She’ll be fine too, yeah?” 

“Hope so.” Patri said, giving her best friend a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

-----

Alexia and Mapi knew it was just as bad as they were expecting when they saw the looks on their younger teammates' faces. They’d finished media up as fast as they could, practically running to the gym where Pina and Patri were working out. 

It only took a shake of Patri’s head for both girls to whirl around, and set off for the medical center. 

You finished your eval at around the same time. The team doctors hadn’t asked too many questions. Jona had been there when you arrived, and had asked if there was anything you’d like to talk to him about. You’d shook your head, and he’d sighed, but left the room. The doctors had received the report from your national team’s staff. They knew that you’d fallen, but that was it. Nothing that accounted for the deep exhaustion that was clear across your face, or the way you barely spoke to them. They told you the same things that your national team had, giving you a rough timeline of your return. Finally, they very obviously reminded you of the club psychologist, before telling you that you were free to go. 

You were planning on waiting around somewhere secluded until Pina and Patri were done with their workout, stopping briefly to fill your water up. Your sunglasses were back on, hood pulled back up, depriving you of your peripheral vision, not to mention your rather swollen shut eye. 

When you turned, you jumped slightly, finding Mapi and Alexia standing directly behind you, arms crossed over their chests like a pair of bodyguards. If this was their goal, they had arrived late. The damage to you was already done. You weren’t sure the scars would ever fade.

Alexia stepped closer to you slowly , as if you would startle and run away from her if she moved too fast, pulling your hood down, and reaching for your sunglasses very carefully. 

“Ay dios mio” She murmured, taking your sunglasses off your face and carefully inspecting your wounds. “How did this happen?” 

Her voice was uncharacteristically shaky and full of fear, and her eyes bore into your own, a dangerous glint to them. Mapi didn’t look any different, standing next to her captain and eyeing you very carefully. 

“Fell.” You said simply. Not completely collapsing into their arms and telling them everything was much harder than you anticipated, so you stuck to one word answers for now. 

“You fell? What, off a cliff?” Mapi asked, ignoring the elbow to the ribs she received from the blonde next to her. 

You only shrugged in response, causing both girls to exchange a look. 

“Amiga, did someone do this to you? You can tell us, I promise. We will keep you safe.” Alexia promised, words she’d been rehearsing all morning. 

“No one did anything to me, I just fell.” You reiterated, and it wasn’t technically a lie. You were getting annoyed, uncharacteristically so. You didn’t want to answer these questions, and even though it was completely unfair, you were angry at Alexia. Promising to protect you now did nothing. Nothing at all. It was too late for that. You weren’t sure you’d ever feel safe again. 

“I do not believe you. You are not clumsy, you do not fall.” Mapi cut in, her words wildly more aggressive than her tone. You didn’t respond, back to staring at your feet. “The article that came out,” 

“It’s an exaggeration. Everything is fine. Nothing is wrong, everything is fine, and I just want to go home, okay?” You spit back, showing the most emotion you had all day. 

And though everything you’d said was clearly a lie, it was also clear you weren’t ready to talk. Mapi and Alexia had already decided to back off if you didn’t want to talk right now. It could wait until later, until you were somewhere you felt safe, and somewhere much more private than the hall outside Barcelona’s gym. This wasn’t the place. 

The older girls let you go with Patri and Pina, even though all of their instincts were telling them not to let you out of their sight. You were so jumpy, so obviously terrified, they couldn’t justify making you do something you didn’t want to right now.

Alexia watched you walk away with your teammates, startling slightly when she felt Mapi wrap her arms securely around the blonde. Mapi was holding tight to her best friend, and it was no secret as to why. Alexia hugged her back, just as tight. 

“She’s acting just like all the younger girls did after the Euros. It’s happening again, to her this time, and we can’t do anything to stop it.” Mapi mumbled. 

Alexia wanted to disagree, but she couldn’t. She wanted to promise Mapi that they’d fix it, but she wasn’t sure they had the power to. Watching someone you love suffer is always hard, and this was no different.  It seemed so out of their control, and it was excruciating to watch the effects of whatever happened at that national camp wreak havoc on you, and know they couldn’t stop it. 

------

The ride home was just as quiet as the ride there had been. This time, though, the girls didn’t let you go without speaking. The tension in the car had been different this time, and you knew one of them was planning to say something. You thought it would be Patri; she was one of the captains, she was older, you were closer with her. To your surprise, it was Pina that spoke up. 

Patri had just pulled into your driveway when Pina turned around, looking hesitantly at you. Maybe it was her clear anxiety that made you listen, really listen to what she had to say. 

“I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but I can tell you aren’t okay. I just wanted to say that talking about it is way less painful than keeping it all inside. Everyone wants to help you, and I know you might feel embarrassed, or like you can handle it yourself, but you shouldn’t have to. We’re all here for you, whether you want to talk, or you just need some company. Okay?” 

You could tell it had taken a lot for Pina to say all that. She didn’t talk about her experience, ever, unless it was to Mapi or Patri, and even then, she preferred to pretend it hadn’t happened. She was putting that aside for you, though, and you couldn’t ignore the significance of that. 

“Thanks Clau. Really, thank you.” You said, reaching out to squeeze her arm, before stepping out of the car. It was all you could manage right now, but you hoped it got your point across. 

It did. And even though tears welled in Claudia’s eyes on the way home, and she clung to Patri’s hand rather tightly, she was glad she’d spoken up. It was what she’d needed to hear all those months ago, and she hoped that it would make things easier for you. 

-----

You were curled up on the floor near your couch when you made the decision. Tremors were wracking your whole body, and you had been crying for so long that your chest hurt. It seemed that everything had caught up with you, but the breaking point had been the message from your national team coach, reminding you, again, to think of the team, and to stay out of the public eye until your visible injuries healed. There was no please, no thank you. It was just assumed that you’d do it. That really got you; that you’d been pliant for them for so long that they didn’t doubt that you’d go along with whatever they told you to. 

You just felt so alone, and so scared. So incredibly scared. It was this fear that had you reaching for your phone. You couldn’t do it anymore, couldn’t keep it all in. You couldn’t tell another lie, and you didn’t want to. You just wanted someone to come and tell you that everything was going to be okay. You wanted someone to protect you, in the way you should have been protected this whole time. 

There were people that you trusted to do this for you, and you’d lost all the strength to deny yourself the comfort and the care you ached for. 

The phone had barely rung once before it was picked up. 

“Nena? Are you okay?” Alexia asked softly. 

“No,” you replied, your voice barely more than a sob. 

“Oh, cariño. What can I do?” 

“Come over, please. I can’t do this alone anymore.” You gasped out, wiping harshly at the tears streaming down your face. 

“I am on my way, pequeña, okay? Just sit tight, Mapi and I will be there in a few minutes.” 

“Okay,” you said miserably. You hung up the phone, curling up against the side of the couch once again, muffling your cries in the cushions next to you. It felt like you might never stop crying. 

-----

The sight that Alexia and Mapi were met with when they walked through your front door wasn’t one they ever wanted to see again. 

You were curled in on yourself on the floor, gasping and clawing at your chest as you cried, looking so panicked, and so terrified, neither of them were very confident that they’d be able to help you. Alexia was at your side in an instant, physically pushing your coffee table out of the way so she could crouch down next to you, and pull you into her arms. 

“Okay, okay. It’s alright. You are safe, nena, I promise you.” She murmured, allowing you to hide your face in her neck. You were still trembling, still sobbing, when Mapi sat down next to the two of you, looking helplessly at her captain. 

You couldn’t speak, even though you kind of wanted to. You were so overwhelmed and so exhausted, the only thing keeping you from really dissolving into an irreversible state of panic being Alexia’s arms around you, and her and Mapi’s voices in your ear. 

They promised, over and over, that you’d be safe, that they’d keep you safe. You supposed the only way they’d be able to do this was if you told them everything. And even though it terrified you to do so, the thought of going back to camp next break like nothing had happened was paralyzing. 

You had to trust Alexia and Mapi. You didn’t think you’d be able to keep going if you didn’t trust them, if you didn’t let them in. You resolved to talk, to be honest, as soon as you were able. As soon as you stopped crying. You weren’t sure when that would be, honestly, because it didn’t seem like you were calming down at all. For now, you gripped Mapi’s hand, focused on the feeling of Alexia’s hand on your back, and willed yourself to be calm. They had you. They’d keep you safe. 

----- 

[aleskie-hischier]

I SEE YOU | Quinn Hughes x Reader SUMMARY: Quinn sees you. Always.

Word Count: 993 Warnings: standard hurt-comfort fic

You don’t know what possessed you to pursue a Master’s degree. You want to hit your younger self for thinking she’d be able to handle this. What, just because she graduated a semester early, she suddenly thought a Master’s could be easy? Well, she was wrong. And you were left to deal with her life choices. 

You were on your third draft of your thesis and you predict it was going to take a million more to get it approved. You had gone into today’s meeting confident, thinking you had finally nailed it, only for your advisor to rip into your work. “The structure is there, but your arguments aren’t clear. There are too many ideas that aren’t well-developed or explained.” And then the nail on the coffin. “I still don’t understand the point of this research.”

You’d been passionate about this topic. You thought it was interesting. New. Fresh. It was hard to not have someone see that. It was hard to have your work grilled and picked apart. Their words, though constructive, blurred together as you nodded mindlessly, part of you zoning out of the meeting, your mind already spinning from the endless bulk of changes you’d have to make. 

“You’re a smart one,” your advisor had said, “But this just isn’t cutting it.”

It echoed in your head. This isn’t cutting it. You’re not cutting it. You’re not good enough. You spent the entire drive home replaying the conversation, the sting of rejection and doubt clawing at your insides. You had done your best—why wasn’t that enough? Would it ever be enough?

You’re hanging on by a thread, on the brink of losing it, by the time you get home. The walls of the apartment are a small sanctuary, but it still feels heavy. Everything feels heavy. You open the door, slip your shoes off, and flip on the lights—one of them flickers. Of course. You swallow the sob threatening to escape your throat, but it rises anyway. Hot tears spill down your cheeks. You crumpled against the door, burying your face in your knees.

At least the apartment was empty. Quinn had training—he wouldn't be back for a while. You could break down in peace. Or so you thought—until you heard the soft thud of footsteps approaching.

You look up to see your beautiful boyfriend’s face, brows furrowed and eyes filled with concern. 

“Oh, baby,” he murmurs, moving closer to meet you at the door. He joins you on the floor, arms wrapping around you, warm and secure, pulling you close without hesitation. You bury your face into his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of him—your body wash and his cologne mix together to form a scent that’s distinctly…him. It’s almost enough to soothe the hurt that’s been growing all day.

He holds you tighter, his hand gently drawing circles on your back. “Rough day, huh?”

The rest of the emotions you’ve been bottling up finally spill over, your breath catching as frustration escapes in shaky, stunted sobs. Quinn holds you firmly but gently, soft reassurances falling from his lips. “I’m here, I’ve got you. You’re alright. Just let it out.”

After a while, he stood up effortlessly, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to the bed. You curl into him, seeking warmth and comfort in the steadiness of his presence. His arms are a protective hiding place, and gradually, your breathing evens out. After what feels like an eternity, you pull back just enough to meet his gaze, your face still streaked with tears, a small pout playing on your lips.

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” you whispered, voice trembling. “I keep trying and I’m doing my best but no one sees it.”

He pulls you in closer, resting his chin on your head as you sling an arm around him. “You have this look on your face when you’re focused,” he says, “You scrunch your nose and bite your lip—pick it apart, actually.” He chuckles. “And you smile so wide and move your hands a lot when you explain your research to me even though you know I won’t understand much of it. You prefer to work in the living room. It doesn’t matter if I’m there watching a game or something else, you stay there and I think it’s because the noise calms you down.”

He moves to look at you, his eyes filled with love. “You like to wear that old UMich hoodie of mine as you write and you always have a bowl of trail mix next to you and you have an iced coffee with three shots of espresso to get you through the long nights.” He places a kiss on your forehead. “I see you. Always will.”

Tears prick at your eyes again. How did you get this lucky? 

“Hey,” he whispers, placing another gentle kiss on your forehead. “Let’s get you into something comfy, yeah?” 

You nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “Okay.”

“Then we’ll order your favorite takeout,” he continues, “And we can watch as many episodes of that vampire show you love. How’s that sound?”

Another nod. The thought of curling up with him on the couch and watching cheesy TV brings the first bout of peace you’ve felt all day. He places another kiss on your forehead, then leads you to the closet.

Before you know it, you’re wrapped up in one of his oversized hoodies, the fabric smelling like him, and curled up on the couch with Quinn snug behind you. The day’s chaos fades into the background as the dramatic music and over-the-top dialogue of your favorite show fills the room. His chest is pressed firmly against your back, his arms securely around you, and every now and then, he presses soft kisses into your hair. Wrapped in his arms, feeling his quiet, steady love surround you—it feels like nothing else exists. 

Right now, everything is perfect.

And that’s enough.

[cmncisspnandmore]

One Night Stand; Part 6

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley X Pregnant!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Shower smut, Slight breeding kink if you squint, Simon Riley being a literal angel, basically all smut with a little bit of plot.

A/N: Hi loves, imma be real, i wrote this entire part in a day. I spent pretty much my entire afternoon writing this after i scrapped about 4 different versions. This is the best i got at the moment. Im still working on this series and requests. Just life is kinda busy. So please bear with me and enjoy the brain rot. This is also not proofread at all so RIP to any grammar police.

Word Count: 3012... This seemed longer.. sowwie, its smol.

New to the Series? Catch up here: Part 5

You sleepily make your way towards the bathroom door, hand closing over the knob as the incessant need to pee urges you forward. It was a little after 2am, you had fallen asleep rather early having spent most of the day lounging around the apartment. 

Simon was on base for the day, running training exercises with Soap, Gaz and Captain Price. During the 3 months you have been living with Simon, you have come to learn his patterns. Training days meant that 9 times out of 10 he would spend the night on base. The days before a deployment he would make sure to stock the fridge and pantry with your favorites. On Sundays he did laundry, every 3rd wednesday he would get his haircut. Saturdays after returning for deployment were reserved for going out to Soap’s bar and having a well deserved drink. You also learnt his day to day routine, every morning he was home Simon rose at exactly 5:00am, went on a 12 mile run, when he returned if you weren't already awake he would prepare you a healthy breakfast and leave it out for you before heading to work. 

On days when you were awake when he got back from his run he would shower, and you both would spend some time preparing breakfast together. Although those mornings instead of the nutritionally packed meals he usually prepared you often convinced him to make some sort of carb and sugar filled breakfast. Those mornings he would often leave the flat grumbling about how he should’ve run extra. Those mornings were your favorite. 

Since you moved in your relationship with Simon had not progressed further than friends, sure there was still the burning desire that he ignited within you from just looking at you. And you would often linger just a little bit too long in his arms when he would give you a hug. But there hadn't been any kissing, and you haven't managed to end up naked in between his sheets. But that wasn't for lack of wanting.

As you shove open the bathroom door, you fail to realize that not only was the light on but the sound of running water was coming from the shower. As you quickly beeline for the enclosed toilet space, you don't feel a set of brown eyes watching your every move from behind the foggy glass. It isn't until you wash your hands in the sink and glance up into the large mirror on the wall that you realize you aren't alone. Through the fogged glass of the mirror you can make out Simon’s large silhouette, his tanned skin reduced to nothing more than a tan blob. 

“Oh my god!” You squeak, whirling around, your chest heaving as you finally face Simon. He's mostly obscured by the fogged glass door of the walk-in shower, but his bemused smile is clear. “I didn't think you would be coming home!” You mutter out, your cheeks turning pink as he runs his hand across the glass cleaning away some of the fog. Now you can clearly see his face, although distorted by the water droplets on the glass. 

“I should’ve texted you, I'm sorry.. I just didn't want to be late for the appointment in the morning..” Simon says as he reaches up, running his hand through his wet blonde hair.

“No, no! I'm sorry, I should've paid more attention. I'm such an airhead sometimes I didn't realize that there was someone in here..” you rush out as you try to desperately keep your eyes from straying from Simon's face. You aren’t sure if it's the heat from the shower or the pregnancy hormones but it takes all your willpower to keep your eyes from trailing down his toned body. 

Simon pauses for a moment, his dark brown eyes trailing over you, from the adorable flush of your cheeks to the swell of your stomach under the sleep shirt you have on. “It’s alright. Love," Simon smiles. One of his panty dropping smiles that you swear he reserves for only you. It's the smile that sends shivers straight to your core. That leaves you a hot panting mess behind closed doors. Living with Simon and not jumping his bones at every opportunity was damn near torture during your second trimester. You were able to take care of things yourself, but now that your bump had grown substantially, you hadn’t been able to find relief.  

Without thinking, you walk towards the shower and yank open the door, the hot steam pouring out. Little splashes of water hit your skin as you step into the small space. Your sleep shirt and shorts quickly drenched, as Simon stares at you wide eyed. 

“Sweetheart…” Simon warns as your hands come to rest on his wet cheeks, your thumb catching on his bottom lip as he looks down at you, his pupils blown wide. You quickly close the space between you two, your bump pressing against the firm plains of his abs, your arms snaking around his neck as you sharply tug him down to your height. Your lips capture his in a sloppy, wet kiss. Simon groans low in his throat, his chest vibrating against your overly sensitive breasts. A new wave of need pluses through you as you try to get closer, Simon's cock jumping to life as it presses against your lower stomach. Simon's large hands land on your hips squeezing slightly as he turns you, pressing your back against the cold tile wall of the shower. 

A startled gasp rushes past your lips as your back makes contact with the cold tile. A shiver running through you as your wet shirt makes it feel colder. Simon smiles against your lips, one hand coming up to graze over your pebbled nipples through the sopping wet fabric of your shirt. A breathy moan slips from you as Simon peppers kisses down the side of your jaw to your neck. The spray from the showerhead now sprays off his shoulders as he leans lower. 

“Fuck.. Please,” you whine, nails scratching along the tops of his shoulders Simon wraps his lips around one of your nipples, over the fabric of your shirt. The friction from the wet fabric sends waves of pleasure through you straight to your core, your legs starting to shake with need and Simon has barely touched you.

“Such a needy girl…” Simon murmurs against your skin, as he flicks his tongue across your nipple. Your cheeks flush pink at his words but you’re hanging on to each one like they’re your life line. “Why didn't you just come to me if you needed some help baby?” Simon whispers softly, as his fingers trace the bottom of your bump, slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt as he pushes it up.

“I…I don't know,” You mumble your head tipping back against the cold shower wall. 

Simon hums, his lips once again brushing across one of your nipples, pulling another moan from you. “God, your tits are amazing. It’s been hell walking around trying not to stare at them. Knowing that my child is the reason, knowing that they are growing to provide milk for our baby,” Simon whispers against your skin, and you swear you could cum just from the sounds of his voice. 

“Simon… Please…” you whine, it's small and breathy, in any other circumstance you would be ashamed for sounding so weak, but right now you couldn't give two shits if the damn queen of England was standing here witnessing your plea.

“Tell me what you need baby, I don't want to hurt you..” Simon stands back to his full height, his hand coming to cup the side of your face. You force your eyes open, Simon's beautiful brown eyes staring at you. Simon is a large man, in all aspects of his life and the last thing he would ever want to do is hurt you unintentionally. Especially now, as you carry his child within you, he would rather be buried alive again than accidentally do something to hurt you or the baby.

“I need you to bend me over and fuck me senseless. I feel like I'm going to explode,” you whine, your needy hands coming to rake down his bare chest, sending a shiver through Simon's entire body. 

“Whatever you need, Love,” Simon grunts before he bends down and picks you up, nudging open the shower door with his shoulder as he cradles you against his wet chest. He doesn’t stop to turn off the shower or even dry himself off as he brings you into his room. He sets you down on your feet and quickly drops to his knees in front of you. His still warm hands catching the waistband of your wet sleep shorts. He pulls them down your legs, goosebumps erupting across your skin from the sudden change in temperature. 

Simon presses a series of soft kisses to the stretched skin of your stomach, his hands briefly cupping your belly/ “Hi Lovie,” he whispers softly to your bump and if you weren’t so ravishingly horny you could cry. The sight of probably one of the scariest men you know on his knees in front of you talking to his unborn child makes you want to scream in the best way. But your mind quickly goes blank as Simon's fingers trace the smooth skin of your inner thigh. 

“Turn around, elbows on the bed, pet,” Simon stands again, his hands on your shoulders as he gently turns you. As if on autopilot you lean forwards, resting your elbows on the bed, giving Simon a perfect view of your ass. A deep groan hits your ears as Simon's hand comes to massage the puffy flesh of your ass. Your skin prickles with anticipation as his fingers dip lower, gathering the slick wetness from between your thighs. The breath wooshed from your lungs as he thrusts one finger into your slick cunt. 

“You’re so wet for me, such a good girl aren't you?” Simon hums, lazily thrusting his finger before he adds a second. You tip your hips back, trying to make him go faster, this slow languid pace he was setting was driving you mad. You needed to be fucked, and god damn if you didn't get it right now you were going to cry. 

“Si…” you whine, pushing your hips back into his hand as he curls his fingers within you. 

“Hmm?”

“I’m pregnant, not made of fucking glass. I swear if you don't fu-” Your voice cuts off as Simon slams into you in one quick thrust. Your world spins for a moment and if you hadn't been holding onto the bed for support you would’ve fallen over. A startled gasp passes your lips and Simon all but freezes. “No please don't stop, it just feels different but not in a bad way…” You quickly mumble reaching back haphazardly with one hand to try and grab Simon's hip to force him to move.  

“You sure?” Simon mumbles, his hands coming to rest on your hips, as he slowly pulls out before sinking back in. 

“Oh god, yes, please,” you moan, your face now pressed into the mattress. That was all it took for Simon to continue, his hips thrust into you at a rapid pace, obscene moans leaving your lips as he slams home each time. Sex felt different this time, there was no slight burn from how big Simon was but you felt full, so deliciously full. You had been worried about having sex at any point during your pregnancy, having read that some women have no sex drive during pregnancy, especially the 3rd trimester. But thank the lord above it was not the case for you. Your thoughts turn to nothing as Simon lets out a harsh moan, your walls fluttering around him. 

“Fuck baby, you’re squeezing me so tight,” Simon grunts as he adjusts his grip on your hip bones,his fingertips digging into your skin.

“Feels so good Simon.. I'm gonna cum..” You whimper as the familiar coil in your stomach tightens, teetering on the edge of release as he pounds into you. Your skin slapping against each other so loud you're sure the neighbors know what's going on.

“Cum for me baby,” Simon leans forward, one hand wrapping around your shoulder as he pulls you up slightly, your elbows no longer resting on the bed as he pulls you up against his chest. His hips still pistoning into you as he uses the new position to fuck into your harder. You reach up and grab the back of his neck with your hand, anchoring yourself to him, your other hand coming to find the hand still on your waistline. You guide his hand up to your throat where he gives it a gentle squeeze. 

That small squeeze was all you needed to go tumbling over the edge into oblivion. Stars dance in front of your vision as the world goes quiet for a moment. Simon finds his own release moments after yours, his entire body tensing behind you. As you turn to putty in his arms, “Woah, I’ve got you,” Simon whispers into your sweaty hairline as his arms carefully wrap around you and he manages to slip out of you and hold you up. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, fully sated as you lean against his chest. You can feel his heart hammering against your back, one arm firmly around you, right under your breasts the other resting lightly on your bump. His fingers softly rubbing along your soft skin. 

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Simon grunts, maneuvering you to the edge of the bed where he helps lower you into it. 

“I just basically jumped you in the shower… “ you mutter, your eyes heavy as exhaustion hits you like a freight train hitting a brick wall. 

Simon pauses as he gathers your wet pj’s from the floor and shoves them into his laundry basket. “You think I would be upset by you jumping me in the shower?” He asks, a small smile on his face. 

You lift your head, watching as he shoves the clothes into the basket and grabs a black long sleeve shirt from the closet. He walks over, standing in front of you still in all his naked glory, the shirt in his hands. “Well.. I mean.. we haven’t exactly expressed wanting more than friendship..” 

“Love, I’ve been taking it slow because I thought you only wanted to be friends… not because I wanted to. God, watching you walk around the apartment, your stomach growing with my child drives me insane, I’ve wanted to bend you over the kitchen counter and fuck you sensless every morning since the first day you got here.” Simon pulls the shirt over your head, and you put your arms through, the shirt still fits loosely even over your baby bump. 

“Oh…” you freeze for a moment, you and Simon had gotten closer over the time you’ve lived with him. You had learnt about his past, about his mother and brother. About his nephew. You held him when he cried one night, his words a broken mess of how he was afraid he would turn out to be his dad. How he wished he could talk to his brother one last time, so he could ask him how he got past the fear of turning into his dad. How he handled the fear of being a dad when he had Joseph.

But the entire time you had lived together Simon had always treated you with respect, he never touched your stomach without asking. He always made sure to keep a respectable distance from you when you were on the couch. He never entered your room without permission and never asked about your life before coming to London. 

But it wasn’t to say you didn’t share things with Simon, he knew your favorite color, your worst fear (unrelated to your family’s passing) , your greatest wish, he knew what you used to dream about being as a little kid. He knew that your favorite food could make you smile on your worst days, and that you liked to watch old sitcoms when it rained. If someone was to look into your conversations they would probably think you were already together. That you probably didn’t flaunt the physical aspects of your relationship. Simon had quickly broken down the walls you had put up around yourself, and had comfortably made his own spot in your heart.

Simon sits next to you, now dressed in a pair of black sweatpants, his large hand covering yours. You slowly look up at him, his brow furrowed as he studies your face. The small scar in his eyebrow evident this close, you reach out running a finger across it. The skin is slightly raised and water drips from his hair onto your finger.

“Then you should stop fighting the urge…” you finally whisper, your hand cupping the rough skin of Simon’s face. 

“Would you be okay with that? With me touching you whenever I wanted… holding you.. kissing you?” Simon whispers, his eyes closing for a moment as he leans into your hand.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, your forehead coming to rest against his, your eyes closed. For a moment you just sit there. Your foreheads pressed together, your breath mingling.

Could you be okay with that?

Could you let someone in that way?

Let someone get close enough that they could see all the broken and jagged edges of you?

Could you open yourself up to losing someone again?

The thought of Simon being gone suddenly, ripped away from you by some unknown, the same person who ripped your siblings and mother away from you makes you want to vomit.

But a small part of you chimes in, the part that knows Simon isn’t defenseless like your family was. Simon was a trained military man, a man who single handedly killed an entire crew for crossing him. He could handle himself. He had proved that time and time again in the field. He also had the rest of 141, the team who would go to the ends of the earth to find him. 

You open your eyes, and look at Simon, the answer on the tip of your tongue as you stare at his beautiful face. His light blonde stubble, the small scars, the crook in his nose, the slightly uneven line of his lower lip. “Yes… I-I want that.. I want all of it.”

Next Part: 7

Taglist: @coffeeandtealol, @natashamea18

[holdmytesseract]

Drabble request Daryl x fem!reader: i don't want to watch the world end with someone else 🫶🏽 don't know if that's kinda challenging or easy going, I'm excited 🤭

Life and Death

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Warning: the usual Walking Dead stuff? walkers, weapons, fluff

Word Count: drabble

a/n: I can't describe how much I enjoyed writing this. Gods, I missed writing for Daryl. 🥹 Thank you SO much for this, friend! 🧡

You were driving down the muddy forest path on your motorbike; crossbow slung over your back. Being the girlfriend of a certain archer had it's perks. Especially in a apocalypse.

The air smelled fresh and clean. Slightly cold, but not freezing. It had just rained; causing the scent of water and earth to fill your nose. Waterdrops fell from the trees which lined the path; hitting the skin of your face from time to time. Closing your eyes for just a moment, you relished in the scent and feel of the nature around you. It was beautiful. And dangerous. But that was nothing new.

The neigh of horses from some distance, ripped you out of your thoughts. You focused; seeing a carriage quite a few yards ahead. You immediately had a guess who it could be and slowed down, carefully approaching. But you could already tell that it was a friend and not an enemy.

When the carriage stopped and you beside it, you knew you were right.

With a bright smile you got off your motorbike and went to hug your friend. "Hey, Maggie. Long time no see. How are you? And Hershel? And Hilltop?" The brown haired woman wrapped you in her arms tightly. "Way too long, Y/N," she started. You could hear the smile in her voice. "'M good, thanks and so's Hershel. Hilltop as well. How are you?" "Never been better, thank ya."

She stepped back from the embrace with her signature smile. "Already the second archer I met today." Your eyes shone bright. "You saw Daryl?" Maggie nodded. "Indeed. Was off huntin'." "I know, yeah. I wanted to look for him and help. Been busy this morning; training some kids in fighting off walkers, but now I've got time. Do you know where he went?"

"He didn't tell me, but I'd say he went south-east," she answered; pointed into the direction. "Thanks."

You actually wanted to talk longer to your dear friend - bound together by the end of the world, but Jesus's words about a small herd of walkers approaching through Maggie's walkie-talkie unfortunately brought an early end to the reunion. Of course, neither you nor Maggie wanted to end up in a herd of walkers. Small or not.

Therefore, you quickly bid your goodbyes and moved on. Maggie back towards Hilltop and you (hopefully) into Daryl's direction.

Luckily, your boyfriend had taught you well over the years and so you were able to make out his wheel tracks in the muddy earth and could track him down.

You found him near a quite big cliff on the edge of the forest; standing near the edge. His motorcycle was parked a few meters behind him; a handful of dead rabbits and squirrels draped over the saddle. Daryl's crossbow was slung over his shoulders as he was gazing into the far distance; on the valley to his feet.

You had turned off the engine of your motorcycle already a while ago and had been wheeling it instead; unable to drive over the uneven and steep forest ground.

You clapped down the pedestal of your vehicle and parked it beside Daryl's, before you sneaked your way over to Daryl; a mischievous smirk on your lips. Perhaps you could catch him off- "Ya might wanna work on yer sneaking up technique."

You hadn't even made three steps when those words left his lips. Damn it. You pouted and slumped up to stand beside him. "Oh come on, was I this obvious?" The archer looked over to you, a soft smile on his face. "Nah, but I recognised yer steps." You blinked in disbelief. "My steps?" "Yeah. Should know that by now after all those years 'n nights ya creepin' around the places we called home, eh?"

"Well... I suppose you're right." He gave you another soft smile and redirected his gaze.

"What you're looking- Oh my gosh..." Your eyes almost popped out of your head as you followed your boyfriend's gaze. The valley below the hills surrounding it was flooded with walkers. Hundreds. Thousands. Maybe even more.

Your jaw dropped in shock and... You couldn't even describe it. It was a picture of horror in an almost idyllic piece of land. Decay and rotting; flourishing nature and rebirth. Life and death. Light and darkness. Old life and new life. It was the definition of this world and all that happened to it all those years ago in one frame. It was unbelievable and rather difficult to grasp.

"Kinda frightening, right?" Daryl's voice urged to your ears. You swallowed; nodding. "Yeah, but also... I don't know..." You needed a moment to find the right words. "A blessing and a curse. A blessing for the earth. The recovery of nature and all its aspects. A curse for all human beings. Sad to see what became of the people - of the world we used to know." Daryl nodded in agreement. "Couldn't have put it better." He had never been a man of many words, but you could tell that he understood. He felt the same.

Like automatically, you reached for his hand and slipped your fingers through his; needing his comforting touch. Daryl's head shortly turned to look at your now intertwined hands. He squeezed your smaller hand and gently pulled you closer, until your shoulder was brushing his; the both of you still staring down on the horrific scenes below you in silence.

The only reassuring thing about it was the fact that they were very far from the place you called home.

"Daryl?" You spoke up again; voice merely above a whisper. "Yeah?" "I'm happy you're here. With me. In this. I'm grateful I found you. I couldn't imagine this world - neither my life without you. I wouldn't want to watch this world end with somebody that isn't you. Or our friends."

Again, Daryl wasn't a master of words, so instead of answering something, he let go of your hand in order to wrap you up in a tight hug - and you gladly let him.

Nevertheless found four little words their way into your ear. "I love ya, Y/N."

Tags: @suniloli @stitchintimefan @in-this-minute @loz-3 @fictive-sl0th @fuseburner @mandywholock1980 @lou12346789 @mischief-dream @km-ffluv @crimson25 @buttercupcookies-blog @salvinaa @javagirl328 @sweetz1919

[changingplumbob]

Consider this your intro to Silver. It recaps events written by @cawthorntales from Grayson's point of view here, as well as details given in Silver's visit to Grayson. Once again all the lore of this world comes from his imagination, I'm just riffing off of it.

Willow Creek was an odd place. While Windenburg, Britechester and Henford-on-Bagley focused their architecture on stone, most of Willow Creek was wooden. It was as if the settlers had decided to show off just how many trees they could cut down. The first time Silver had visited here it looked rather different. The trees had stretched down to the river and the houses were few and far between. Foundry Cove had been a clean sweep from the canal to the railroad, now there were houses.

Silver gazed in to the fire and tried to calm down. Seeing Grayson had been the right thing, he was certain. Even if it was hard for him it was best for Grayson. He loved his brother, he had been his favourite person before everything happened. It was right to have put him first.

Silver remembered one night in Moonwood when there had been a fierce storm. Their father had always told them they needed to be strong, infallible, but the thunder sounded like hunters and he was terrified. His whimpering woke up his older brother who came and hopped in his bed. Silver tried to protest, dad would get so mad, but Grayson promised him he wouldn't fall asleep. Grayson watched over him so he could rest, and swore he'd be back in his own bed before dad could catch them. He was true to his word.

Grayson had always had his back, but when the time came Silver didn't have his. The hunters had gotten bolder, and more violent, wiping out packs and leaving a trail of bodies far bigger than any the werewolves were responsible for. They had caught his dad and four other pack members, forcing his older brother into the role of alpha at sixteen.

Their dad had always pushed the importance of maintaining the pack. To Grayson that meant mounting an attack on the hunters compound. Silver begged to go with him but Grayson insisted he go with their mother and most of the pack into hiding. When he hugged Grayson goodbye and joined the group howl sending off their alpha and their twenty fiercest members, he felt sure he'd see him in less than a day. He was wrong.

Silver had waited with the lookouts at the edge of the emergency hiding zone, waiting. The lookouts slept in shifts but Silver was determined to stay awake, for his brother and his father, he could be a stubborn fourteen year old. When they appeared on the horizon it was clear the group was smaller. Much, much smaller. Neither his brother or father were in it. When they got close enough to talk Silver asked Francine if they had survived the hunters.

Francine: They're alive but... your dad is talking to Grayson. He'll be back soon

Relieved and exhausted Silver went back to his mom and fell asleep. He had thought Francine meant Grayson would be back soon. She didn't.

He remembered waking up to yelling, his mom and dad were fierce when they got going, dealing verbal blows to each other.

Mom: How could you? He will die out there on his own. He's just a boy, he can't survive the hunters

Dad: He was sentimental and selfish. He should have left me but instead his recklessness cost us sixteen pack members, an alpha cannot put self interest before the pack. He's no son of mine

Mom: Tell me you didn't say that. Francine said he was hurt, he needs to be with us

Dad: I'm the alpha and what I say is law. He is not to set foot here again

Mom: I'll find him, I will

Dad: You bring him back and I swear I will rip his heart out myself

That's when Silver's training started. Grayson had always been meant to be the alpha and had received the bulk of their dad's attention. Silver was happy to simply tag along and mimic the training Grayson was getting, a smaller shadow. But with Grayson gone their dad honed in on him like a missile. Early mornings, late nights, relentless exercise and lectures on how his brother had failed them. His dad passed on his skills sure, but he also passed on his rage.

Silver's heart had truly broken when his mom had been killed. On a search for Grayson she had been captured by hunters, the wife of an alpha was a trophy prize. The nature of the pack changed then. What had once been caring and supportive became strained and distrustful, his dad telling anyone in hearing how Grayson was to blame.

Eventually his dad got careless and the hunters got him to. It should have been up to Silver to keep the pack intact, strong, but he'd felt there was nothing left to save. It fell apart, and he carried on alone. The more he thought about it over the years the more he began to think that his dad had been wrong, Grayson hadn't been to blame. If Silver had been the older one he would have done the same thing.

So he went through life, moving from place to place, feeling the weight of guilt grow heavy. Guilt for believing his brother, his best friend, could have ever acted against the interest of the pack. Guilt that he hadn't been with his mom when she was captured, he would have been a better prize for the hunters and she would be alive. Then, more than a century later, he was sat in a bar when he saw his brother on TV. He was alive! And more than that he was looking for love.

At first Silver couldn't stop himself crying with joy, the barkeep threw him out assuming he'd had too much. He had set out for Henford, determined to make things right. The closer he got, the more his guilt whispered in his ears. Sure that Grayson wouldn't forgive him he camped out near the house, just far enough to not be detected, and caught up on the show in one of the more run down pubs. He thought Glenn was rather cute and hoped he would get far, even if a little voice inside him dreaded Glenn winning, he liked seeing him. Clive though, he was always putting his brother first, Silver was grateful for that. Grayson was different from what he remembered, and Silver had to stop himself howling in anguish when his scar was revealed. Mom had been right, he was injured. When Grayson chose Clive Silver knew it was time to stop hiding, he had to go face his brother.

It went better than he expected. Grayson forgave him! But he had to tell him what happened to the pack and their parents. That's the thing about grief, you think you've got it handled then you have to tell someone a soul is gone and all the feelings rise to the surface again. He had to get out of there. He loved Grayson, but his brother was rebuilding his life, growing his own family and Silver couldn't bear to destroy it with his his own issues. So he'd done what he'd made a habit of doing, he ran away. The woods in Willow Creek may be smaller but he had some good memories here, hopefully the air would help him stabilise. Normally he camped out in the park but when he passed it this time he felt a strange aversion, like it would be wrong or dangerous to go there. He was sure it was just in his mind, soon he would go there and push through the discomfort. The view of the river there had always soothed his soul.

Previous ... Next

[tadpolesonalgae]

Blurbs

A/N: okay, I feel really bad about this but I’m quite exhausted, so these are just four short blurb-type things! Again, I’m so sorry they aren’t longer!

Below, you will find:

Training + Azriel Predator Play + Tamlin Sleepy mornings + Rhys Drunk Night In + Mor

Training session w/ Azriel

In The Shadows by The Rasmus

Steel meets steel. Sparks fly.

Sweat drips down your brow as his blade scrapes over your own, bones screaming with the effort of holding him off.

Azriel says nothing, just as invested as you as he flips his Illyrian fighting blade deftly, a move designed to intimidate—works pretty well. His eyes are sharp and focused, honed just like his blade.

Tendrils of misty air puff from your lips, curling in the crisp morning air, summer yielding to autumn, frost nipping at your sweat slicked skin.

You barely have the time to tense before he’s going on the attack again, surging forward and knocking at your weak side. He uses his size and weight to his advantage, crashing into you, and you stumble. He senses it, knows he’s caught you in a moment of weakness, and pounces.

Your feet fumble beneath you, legs numb and thighs trembling as he manages to tip you backward. Bone meets rock and you’re winded, air whooshing from your lungs with such force you forget how to breathe.

He flips the blade in his hands, before the pommel is slamming down. You have enough room to roll to the side before it meets the stone, the clang reverberating up his arm—he doesn’t even wince.

“Woah! Okay! Time out!” You gasp, barely dodging away before he has you pinned to the ground. He’s so close you can pick out the green in his hazel eyes, the early morning lighting them with glorious colour. His gaze rakes over your features, devouring each dip and line with starving hunger. As if seeing you for the first time.

“You were distracted.” It’s not a question but you know he’s curious. You shake your head, still panting, secretly revelling in his warmth against the chill morning. “Didn’t sleep too well,” you answer honestly. Well, omitting a little part of the nature of your dream, but that’s neither here nor there.

His eyes narrow on you and you’re worried he’ll see through your omission, but instead he stands, extending his hand as he pulls you up. “One more. Then we rest.”

You groan—it’s going to be one of those day. But, well, you can’t say no to him with your heart beating the way it is. Not with the challenge gleaming in his eyes.

Tamlin + predator play

Ring the alarm by Anna Blue

Your heart pounds in your chest, blood coating your skin, slicking your clothes from the hunt. Breaths rip from your raw throat, panting even as it stings to do so.

The moon is a silver slice through the inky sky, but there’s no time to admire its beauty, you can feel how close he is on your trail.

A twig snaps and you can hear his paws thud on the ground, roots and vines trembling and pulsing as their Lord races for you.

Your brow narrows but there’s no time to consider how he’s found you. One leg in front of the other, arms propelling you forward as you jump to the peak of a rock, leaping into the air. Arms stretch out to catch on a branch but he slams into you, knocking you in mid air, pinning you to the ground

You writhe and struggle but he keeps you locked beneath him. His golden fur gleams like gilded fabric beneath the silver moon, ethereal despite this beastly form.

Vines shackle your waist, tangling around your arms as he takes you prisoner, pulling back, shifting into a more recognisable form.

Lips pull back from gleaming white teeth as he gives you a feral smile—the ones that come out when he’s had a satisfying hunt. All it takes is that grin, and you know the night’s long from over. Glad for it not to be.

His power courses through you and you feel fur coating your skin, fangs protruding from your upper lip, claws curling into the ground as he transforms you. You meet his adrenaline dilated gaze, hunger blazing in their vivid green depths.

How could you refuse a look like that?

With a grin of your own, and a taunting snarl, you’re bounding away, skittering deep into the forest.

He gives you a head start before his roar shakes the leaves of the trees—he’s coming to find you.

Sleepy morning w/ Rhys

I love you 3000 by Jackson Wang

The sunlight warms your skin, softened by sleep.

His scent is all around you, and you’re smiling before you open your eyes. Stunning violet fills your world and you melt further under the sheets.

“Morning,” you mumble, nose scrunching as you give him a grin. He smiles, pressing his forehead to your own. “Morning,” he replies, voice deep and rough with disuse. His arms sliding around and beneath your waist, keeping you pressed against his front.

The two of you are utterly bare, skin on skin, and you’d have it no other way. It’s the best way to awaken, being able to feel him so entirely, knowing he’s so completely yours.

Your arms move over his shoulders as you roll him onto his back, stomach pressing to his. You shuffle further up his body, breasts softly pushing into his chest as you put a kiss to his lips.

Fingers tangle in his blue-black hair, mussed from sleep, and his tongue strokes over your own, hands bracing your waist as he sighs contently, entirely happy to indulge in you all morning.

You pull away, wanting to look at him.

Violet eyes sparkle with adoration, and your heart does something silly in your chest. It’s ridiculous, how he still has this effect on you, as if this is the first time you’re laying eyes upon him.

You hope the feeling never goes away.

Drunk night in w/ Mor

Golden by Harry styles

Laugher floods the room, and you know at once neither of you are fit to head out.

Mor’s golden hair is tied back from her lovely face, small baby hairs curling at the edges where they’ve slipped the constraint. “Hold still!” She laughs, but you duck away from her. “I am not letting you anywhere near my eyes,” you giggle, scrambling back on the sofa as she approaches with the stick of kohl. “You’ll poke my eye out!”

She laughs, and covers one of her eyes with her hand, “you’d make a good pirate. We could rule the seas together.” Tears flood your vision as she uses the tiny stick of pigment as a miniature cutlass, making neat, precise swipes through the air with the grace of a drunken warrior.

She’s so beautiful it hurt you to watch, how her smile is so full of bubbly, effervescent joy. How she continues to smile despite the world.

Should that smile ever be taken from her again…

You shake your head, banishing the thought with drunken luxury. You stumble to your feet, prying the stick from her slim fingers. You set it down on the table, take her cheeks in your hands, and plant a firm kiss to her mouth. She stiffens with surprise, then she’s melting and her hands are all over you.

Then you’re both tripping and stumbling until you fall onto the sofa, plans to go out long forgotten as you mould into one another, indulging in the soft warmth that comes from utter contentment.

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog

Az Taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch

[heeszn]

you ain’t my boyfriend ౨ৎ pjs four. thinkin’ bout you

jay anxiously taps at the menu, staring out the window. he arrived ten minutes early and had already ordered for the both of you (he texted you asking what you wanted).

jay likes to think that he was a cool, calm headed guy. he wasn’t the type to get nervous around girls. in fact, he would never bat an eye at girls. that was jaeyun or heeseungs job. and he would never admit this, but you’ve always piqued an interest in the man.

yes he was dating isa, but wherever isa is, you are as well. especially since you’ve been friends with the boys, excluding heeseung, since middle school. he’s always wondered how he’s never talked to or hung out with you before. especially since it seemed like you guys were so connected.

his train of thought was then interrupted by the noise of a bell ringing, signifying someone was entering the café (or leaving). he turns his head to see you standing there, eyes scanning the room to find him. and you do, the quickly ended eye contact was enough for a small smile to creep up onto jays face.

“hi pretty boy” you say, causing blood to rush to jays ears. he lets out a chuckle, “hi yn, you look nice”.

now it’s your turn to smile. “thank you jay, i think you look good as well.” the waiter, seemingly with perfect timing, then comes to give your drinks. the both of you then exchange how your drinks are tasty and that you’d totally order them again.

a beat of silence then follows, before you start the conversation thinking you should just get straight to business. “so, what exactly would i gain from your situation” you ask jay, catching him slightly off guard. he clears his throat, “um, one, it’d help with your jiung situation since he apparently despises me” and he thinks before continuing, “and two, you get a way better looking fake boyfriend”, he says with a toothy grin.

a giggle escapes your lips at his small attempt of a joke. “mmm, alright then”, you turn to your mini purse and pull out a notepad and a pen, “but first let’s lay down some rules”. you and jay thought it was a bit corny to do so, but also a bit necessary. just so that no ones feelings get hurt.

“okay, rule number one, don’t fall in love” you say, to which jay tries to stifle a laugh. “hey, it’s a common rule” you exclaim. “i know, it’s still just a little silly” he laughs out, to which you roll your eyes at.

and you continue on, laughing at each others propositions of what should be a rule. you only end up with the one rule, as the two of you couldn’t make up any other serious ones.

you draw two lines onto the paper, signing your signature before handing it to jay and telling him to do the same on the other line. he smiles at your seriousness of this rule before signing his ‘pjs’ down.

you rip the paper, fold it and place it in the untouched pocket of your mini bag. the only safe place for now.

once again, a pause of silence follows. “so i saw you’re a real fan” you say, eyeing him with a smile.

and so the afternoon continues on, the two of you getting to know each other properly and finding out you share similar hobbies and interests.

you don’t even realize how quickly time goes by until you finally check your phone and see that it’s 7 pm. “god, we should probably start packing up now, i think the waiters hate us for how long we’ve been here” you laugh out. “probably” he says, before helping you grab your things.

the two of you exit the café and before you can get a uber, jay’s already insisting to drive you home. as practice, he claims. and you fold easily, january wasn’t a nice time to be outside at night as the winds pick up and you weren’t in very warming clothing.

the drive seems to go by quick, or maybe that’s because you just can’t stop your conversation with jay. and next thing you know, he’s walking you up to your apartment.

“so, i’ll pick you up at 10 tomorrow” he asks and you reply with a nod. “okay well, i’ll see you then” he smiles. “drive home safely” you reply, to which he gives a thumbs up as he’s already walking away.

that night, you lay in your bed, smiling as you recall tonights events. and little do you know, jay is doing the same.

previous | masterlist | next 🦴 — vee’snotes. SO SORRY FOR YAPPING 😭 anyw soft launch era let’s fucking get itttttt

taglist (open!) @rikisly @txtlyn @jayhoonvroom @mrchweeee @ineedsomezzz @sakuxxi @luvnicho @manooffline @uhsakusa

[modelbus]

hey babe! congrats on 1000 that's insane !!!

if you're still taking event requests I have oneeee :))

dream, soulmates (tattoo would be so cute) then the word horror <3

Thank you!! The word “horror” lets me have so much fun…

Pairing: Cc!Dream x Gn!Reader

Soulmate AU - Horror

Dream made the biggest mistake by inviting you for real-life manhunt. You weren’t just ready, you were prepared. The past months had been spent training, even though you hated the early morning runs

But you just knew you had to win.

The bastard beat you enough in Minecraft. Real-life is where you’d exact your revenge, hit him right where it hurts.

His ego. Obviously. Nowhere else.

To save money, you had driven down to Orlando just for his video. You spent enough money buying cool clothes so you could match your Minecraft character, you didn’t need to spend more.

“Ready for this?” Sapnap asks, squinting in the mirror as he attempts to tie on his bandana. Key word: attempts. After a few tries, he gives up and stuffs it in his pocket.

“I was born ready to kick Dream’s ass.” You grin, relaxed against the couch. Unlike him, you’re already fully dressed.

Sapnap flexes a bicep, laughing at you in the mirror. “Me too. Take him down!”

Your eyes drift to the tattoo on the back of his shoulder. A black outline of a flame, small and seemingly insignificant. But you and the entire world knows better.

It’s his soulmate tattoo. Someone else, somewhere else, has that exact tattoo in that exact place. And that person is quite literally made for him in the same way Sapnap is made for them.

Everyone has a soulmate tattoo. Something unique in a completely random place on their body that matches one other person. There are a few rare cases with multiple matches, but it’s rare enough to find one soulmate. Finding any others you might have is damn near impossible.

You haven’t found yours yet. You might never will, knowing your luck.

Your tattoo is simple, and relatively hidden. A small sun, just below your knee. Cute and tiny; you love it. And you love knowing that there’s someone else with it.

“Are we actually going to run through the woods to catch him?” George asks, wandering in. Although you and Sapnap committed, he didn’t, and chose to instead go for normal clothes.

“And we’re going to win.” You add. “Don’t forget that part. I’m tackling that motherfucker.”

Sapnap throws his arm around George’s shoulder, shaking him violently. “LET’S GO!”

-

You should’ve said no when Dream asked you to do this.

You’re hot, and sweaty, and tired, and sore. Everything hurts. But, on the plus side, that means Dream has to be too.

Trampling through some trees, you can’t help but think of what George is doing. Probably casually walking along, enjoying this video. You’ll steal his chips later in retribution.

“Fuck Dream. Fuck Sapnap. Fuck George.” You huff, shifting the camera attached to your chest. “Fuck the fans. No, wait, I take that back. Love you fans.”

“Are you… okay?” Someone asks.

You shriek, jumping back and brandishing a stick as your weapon. If there’s a murderer out here, you’re going to haunt Dream’s ass, best friends or not.

The person cackles, and you whip your head around to stare at Dream. Dream, who has that stupid mask hanging by his side. Dream, who is dressed in the most horrendous green you’ll ever see.

“I hate your stupid video!” You declare. He grins back at you, and it’s only then that you realize what a sorry sight he is.

There’s dirt smeared over his T-shirt, and his pants are ripped. He must’ve tripped or gotten caught somewhere. If Sapnap or George got him, they would’ve said something on the radio.

Your gaze darts down, at the red heart charms hanging from a belt loop. If you take those, you win.

And you’re going to win.

“It’s hot, isn’t it—“ Dream starts, but you’re already tackling him.

“Give me the hearts!” You yell. “Hand them over! You lose, green asshole!”

“Woah, woah! Wait! We can talk this out!” He pushes at your shoulders, one hand covering the charms.

“No the fuck we can’t! It’s hot, Dream! You put me through this!”

You grab his wrist, trying to pry his fingers away from the charms, but to no avail. He’s not going to give them up, the bastard.

Somehow, he manages to scramble away from you, pushing himself up and on his feet before stumbling back. You’re left on the ground, reaching dramatically out for him.

“Did— did you train for this?” Dream asks in disbelief, stopping a few feet away.

You groan as a stick stabs into your elbow. “Maybe.”

He laughs, stepping forward and holding a hand out to you. “This was a really bad idea.”

“I know.” You sigh, then reach up and take his hand. “Can we scrap it and get a pizza or something?”

Whatever he says next is lost to you.

Because you look up at him, only for your eyes to get caught on the rip in his pants. The rip that’s just under his knee, wide enough for you to see skin.

The rip that reveals a small sun tattoo right under his knee, identical to yours.

“Are you getting up?” He asks, sounding amused.

All you can do is stare in absolute horror at the tattoo.

The man who put you through this torture, who forced you to endure the Florida heat for multiple hours outside. That man is your fucking soulmate.

The man who also happens to be your best friend, and someone you love no matter what he puts you through.

You use his hand as leverage to get on your feet, but don’t let go yet. Instead, you pull him closer for a hug.

“I haven’t said we’re scrapping it yet.” Dream points out, but wraps his arms around your waist anyway.

You’ll ask him about it later. You swear.

“But you will.” You murmur, reluctantly letting go. “So let’s get out of here.”

Dream, your soulmate.

Right now is too… busy to tell him. You’re in the middle of a recording, and in the woods. It’ll be better if you wait, give yourself some time to think about it.

Later. Definitely.

[sadly-in-active]

Hey honey it’s me 🐁🐀🦝🦝🦝🦝🦝🦝

Can I request Sablé Cookie x a Singer/songwriter reader?

The two could definitely make a song together, with Sablé doing the music part of it and stuff

Sincerely, 🌸 Anon (But you know who I am)

I know your fucking home address, I’m coming for you and I’m gonna rip your eyeball out (lovingly) 😈

Sablé Cookie x Singer/Songwriter Reader

Summary: You used to be a homeless singer-songwriter wandering the streets of Créme Republic. But then Sablé, the youngest member of the Convocation of Elders and a well-known politician, caught wind of your performance and loved your voice. Next thing you know, she's offering you a spot in her mansion. Shocking, I know. Now, you two are partnering together: Sablé on music, you on vocals. Who knows, they may be more to this sweet partnership that meets the eye.

My age hc for her is probably in her mid to late thirties or early forties and nobody can change my mind.

Right from the start. She's enamored by your voice - sweet yet powerful, and can't believe you haven't had any vocal training. It's like you've been blessed by the Divines themselves. Together, you jam out songs inspired by mythology or spin tales like bards, minus the alcoholic tendencies and split into two.

When she's not busy, she loves having you around, whether it's watching her paint or just relaxing after a day filled with meetings and politics. Honestly, hanging out with you is Sablé's favorite pastime.

She especially loves watching the sunset with you, but sometimes she doesn’t know the look in your eyes softening as you gaze at her. Not even the sunset could compare to her beauty…wait- wait, no- you two were just friends! Friends who collaborate on songs and stuff! No time for lovey-dovey things, hahaha…

A lot of the times when she’s busy at work, you tend to go all out and overwork yourself, brainstorming ideas to impress her and show you're worthy of her friendship. But deep down, she genuinely cares about you and hates seeing you stress out. So don't be surprised if you wake up to find her tucking you in with breakfast and tea – that's just her way of showing she cares.

And that little kiss on the forehead she gave you was so friendly I know….THEY WERE ROOMMATES…

—

As time went on, you began to see your bond with her in a whole new light. One evening, as you both stood on the balcony watching the sunset, you mustered up the courage to take her hand and awkwardly confessed your love, feeling your cheeks flush as you waited nervously for her response, fearing rejection. But it turns out, your worries were completely unfounded.

“I think I’m in love with you, and I’m so sorry if this made it awkward or anything…I just—“

You were silenced as she intertwined her fingers with yours and pulled you in for a little kiss on the lips. It only lasted about two seconds, but so much happened in that moment. Sablé merely smiled back and laughed.

“I knew, dear. Just because my hair covers my eyes doesn’t mean I didn’t catch you glancing at me every time we watched the sunsets together…”

“So…do you think this would be a good idea for a new song? Two people from completely different backgrounds falling in love over time?”

“Perhaps. Maybe I could also teach you how to play music as well.”

“I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

And then they kissed again and got married and nothing bad happened haha

[sirsadly]

request: orc/human - human is the orc's tailor; are they upset cuz the clothing keeps getting messed up? are the appalled by the quality of their former clothing for being so shoddy? does the orc's current ensemble simply not bring out their eyes? are they distracted during a fitting for their friend who deserves nice clothes dammit and didn't expect their ripped-ness to be such a problem because it isn't with their other customers? is this fantasy or modern? -shrugs- i apparently have more thoughts than i thought but this work training is so very boring - feel free to use none of them but the overall prompt but i crave anything that doesn't discuss "the five subcategories on this slide" pls

i hope you got through that work training okay, and you enjoy this mini fic. sorry for being beyond late ;)

Where My Hand Treads 

male orc with gender neutral reader

591 words | sfw

Their thighs ate up most of the measuring tape. Their very same thigh you perfectly custom made pants for, that now stretched taut against the gulf of their muscles.

As their tailor, you were happy about their frequent patronage, but it felt like they carefully maneuvered the small shop you worked at least twice a week with an old garment at hand needing repair.

Sometimes that garment was something you made a week prior that needed mending. You wondered what their lifestyle could be like to warrant this many repairs, not that your wallet was complaining. Curiosity that is what we will call it for now, what that shapely legs do for a living.

You could excuse the ripping and loose threads, but what had you up in arms with annoyance, frustration, and maybe even anger was how his ensemble made the least amount of sense. Though he had all the pieces of a professional suit, he never seemed to put the right colours together. And when he did something of the proportions was off, or fraying at the hems hence coming to the shop.

Most importantly it hurt to see a diamond just covered in mud, his clothes never seemed to bring out his personality or the colour of his warm brown eyes. You told him as much after measuring him again for the second time this month, to make sure his clothes were not faulty on your part.

“You want to style me? But I don’t think you provide those services.” He said slowly. “Is this an exclusive offer for my frequent patronage, if so do other clients get this treatment as well.”

“You’re right we don’t. I think I’ve never offered anyone this. It’s just that you clearly need help assembling an outfit, especially if you are going to be here every day needing a garment repaired.”

His eyes wandered towards the rumbling ceiling of your small shop under the subway tracks, rubbing at the back of his head in thought. You have embarrassed him, your banter does not always read as playful as you would hope. Your ears heat in shame, in the already hot summer afternoon. Your words might not always lift a person’s confidence but you knew what you could achieve with your sewing machine and your critical eye. You knew it every time a client looked in the mirror after a fitting. 

“Please allow me, I just think you are not shining to your highest capacity. Everyone has certain colours and cuts that make them look effortlessly put together. Not everyone gets to learn that, it’s something you either gotta be passionate about or learn early on.”

Your eyes looked straight ahead to his distracted ones, trying to catch the colour change of his mood. “I would like to extend that knowledge so that you may be your brightest self. I did not mean to embarrass you…” you trailed off after his lips pulled tight. He seemed to be enduring you, that expression twin to those braving the biting wind. 

His tusks jutted out, a bit large for his face with his brown eyes, squat nose, and long curls.

You were already imagining the colours you would pull for him, neutral reds and browns for his green skin, toeing that line to bring out his complexion. He would be magnificent. This you could do, this where your hands have tread before.

“My body is in your capable hands, Tailor.” The comment did not go unnoticed, but you knew words could only go so far.