#but then there’s the times where it stays or it’s there when i first open my eyes for the day

[cheyisagirlkisser]

hi!! could u pls write about prison vi or ellie x sweetheart reader who works as the librarian at the prison <3

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮. (𝐕𝐈)

content: fem reader who works at stillwater's library, prisoner vi, fluff, powder mention, mention of implied sa, kind of angsty because i can't write stillwater without mentioning the injustice.

a/n: hi anon sorry for the long wait for this request i've been brainstorming for it but decided to wait until frenzy was out to start it. as for ellie, i have an ellie and sweetheart reader fic i've been working on! it's still deep in the drafts though. i hope you enjoy this:)

Stillwater's contents are harsh and hard to look at. The walls, stacks to the highest of heights, are simply grey bricks with cracks that will never see maintenance. The cafeteria's lighting is low and depressing, and the view of the prison from afar is of the alcatraz, only that prison would be a heaven for stillwater's inhabitants.

The cells are even worse, and that is where prisoners stay most of their sentence. Writings on the drab-toned walls is not uncommon. The beds are made of cheap steel, the springs imprinting into the backs of prisoners even through a mattress layer. Stillwater is the type of place you'd see parents make up scary stories about to keep their children out of inevitable trouble.

However, inside the high fence surrounding the institution, there lay one part that is less Edgar Allen Poe-esque.

You take pride in the library you've been given. Just on the first floor and to the right, prisoners can enter through the doors if they are permitted free time. Inside is your job and where you try to make the miserable a bit less miserable.

You were born in Piltover to a wealthy family, though you didn't care for the life of arts and exquisite tastes. Instead, you secured a well-paying job at a prison most people would rather gauge their eyes out than step foot in. It was when you caught a glimpse of a face through a dark, hidden cell that you accepted the job, and from there, you've tried your best to correct enforcer wrongs.

You sit at the front desk, a pen in your hand.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

Around you is the library you've furnished with books-some your favorites, some you've found as donated treasures or upon a relative's dust-collecting shelf. Though it isn't much, you work with the budget given to, as the council calls it, "provide prisoners with educational resources." You'd like to say that it's more than that for you, however.

You've grown fond of a few prisoners, and some are regulars. Many don't bother with the library, but the ones who do are often the people that you think about at night. Their stories keep you up.

A single mother whose choices were limited, while the mouths she needed to feed were needy.

A man whose daughter was spotted on the street by a group of thugs, a man who would rather be put on trial for murders than know that the men walked freely.

Countless stories of people who deserved a lesser sentence or none at all, while the council's own crimes stack like a pile of dirty magazines.

One girl in general separates herself from the rest, however. You find yourself thinking about her the most.

Click, click, click, click.

You hear the door open, two enforcers present behind Vi. They shut the door behind her, and she walks towards you without much hesitation.

"Got anything new for me?" She asks, eyes briefly glancing over the stack of paperwork at your desk before meeting yours.

"It's been a while since you've visited." You notice, as if asking for an explanation.

"What, you miss me or somethin'?" Vi teases, laughing at the small, embarrassed huff that slips past your lips.

"I'm allowed to care for the people here, especially you. Please tell me you didn't get yourself into anymore trouble, Vi. I told you it worries me." Your tone carries a hint of worry that Vi is unfamiliar with in other people. She doesn't get much bonding behind bars, and to be frank, she doesn't know how to take it.

"It wasn't my fault." She says quietly, not quite meeting your concerned gaze. "I just want something to read. Anything new for me?"

You nod, stepping behind the desk and leading her to an aisle a few rows down. It's further out from your desk, and your heels are loud on the ground, especially loud with just you and Vi in your library.

"I'll never get how you walk in those shoes." You hear Vi say from behind you, and you laugh despite the jab.

"I'm used to it." You simply tell her, leading her down through the aisle.

"I forget you're a Piltie." Though that is another insult, there is something fonder hidden behind it. You know how much Vi hates the better-off, and if she forgets she hates you, isn't that a good thing? "You know, when me and my sister were little, I remember how much she wanted a pair of shoes just like those. I always thought they looked silly, but they kinda suit you." She says quietly, a softness in her voice.

You stop at the end of the aisle and grab a novel from the fourth shelf. You turn back to Vi and hold it up for her eyes to read over the title.

"Your Native Land, Your Life." Vi reads aloud, brows furrowed in confusion. "A poetry collection?"

You nod, a small smile on your face. "Yup. Some of her poetry took me a while to understand, but I think the read is worth it. Really beautiful stuff."

Vi nods, and you're glad she doesn't make a move to leave. You take in her tattoed face and the sharpness of her jaw. It always bothers you how little they feed Stillwater prisoners, but at the same time, something in Vi carries a beauty that you like to admire when you're allowed to.

You think that there is something sweet in Vi that can't ever truly die. You see many prisoners harden with their experiences in here, but not Vi. She carries herself with violence in her cell and throughout the hallways with the rest of the group, but the bits of information she shares with you regarding her sister tells you otherwise. The way she speaks to you makes you want to ask what you are to her, but you refrain. It's mere kindness, and you should be professional.

Still, you don't move away or scream for the guards as she currently leans in. You let her breath hit your face.

"You confuse the hell out of me." She tells you, quietly and intimately. When you seem confused, she continues. "I know you've heard the stories about me. The things I've done to people in here. Yet you still look at me like I'm as innocent as a doe."

"You aren't automatically a horrible person because you're here, Vi."

She scoffs, but doesn't step away from you. "I've done shitty things. Doesn't that make me a shitty person?" She speaks, low and vulnerable. Her voice is unusually small.

"I don't think you are." You say quietly. You can't help but smile at each other. Before you can even think, Vi's lips press against yours in a soft, hesitant but sweet kiss. You process what is happening and return the kiss. Your hands cup her jaw, fingers threading through her soft hair. She presses you against the shelf with a hand around your waist, but she doesn't press for more. Her lips move against yours affectionately for a few more seconds, lingering before she reluctantly pulls away.

This is what always gets you-that look in Vi's eyes, vulnerable and loving. You see it when she talks about things she loves, and you long for it when the prison weighs her down. Her thumb makes contact with your cheek and strokes the soft skin.

"You need to get back to your cell. It's almost lights out." You reluctantly say, still not pulling away. Neither of you can seem to seperate, wanting to prolong the moment. "Promise me you'll stay out of trouble?"

"If it means I can visit you again." She plants one last kiss on your lips before letting you go.

You truly feel sympathy for all of Stillwater's prisoners. You think of them and their situations. You think about their families back in the undercity. However, you think of Vi the most, in the dark of your room. You'll let yourself think of her until you drift asleep tonight, and imagine if she were with you, her hands keeping you cozy and tight in her embrace.

taglist: @witzs, @bewareofmyglock, @ruelezz (if the tag doesn't work it's because of your settings!)

[writeriguess]

Hello there!

I was wondering If you could make a bakugo x fem reader fanfic where the reader is 8 months pregnant with their first child and the reader is visiting katsukis mother and father since katsukis is on a mission.

But little bakugo wanted to come early so in the middle of a conversation the readers water breaks and mitsuki has trouble with contacting katsuki.

Sorry if this is too much to ask! Delete it if you're not comfortable writing it or if this was a vialation of the rules!

Anyways! I really love your writing and k hope you could write this fic❤️

A Little Early

A warm breeze drifted through the open window, rustling the curtains as you sat comfortably on the couch in the Bakugo household. Mitsuki, ever the vibrant and blunt woman, sat across from you with a cup of tea in her hands, her sharp eyes softening just a bit as she looked at your swollen belly.

"Damn, brat. You're really about to pop, huh?" she teased, taking a sip of her tea. Masaru chuckled from his spot beside her, shaking his head at his wife’s lack of filter.

You let out a small laugh, rubbing your stomach gently. "Yeah, only about a month left… hopefully."

Mitsuki snorted. "Hopefully? Trust me, giving birth isn’t a damn cakewalk. That little gremlin is going to come when they damn well please. Just like their dad."

You smiled fondly at the mention of Katsuki, your heart aching a little. He was on a mission and had been for the past few weeks, leaving you to handle the final stretch of your pregnancy alone. Well, not entirely alone. His parents had been kind enough to check in on you, and today, you decided to visit them for a change of scenery.

Everything was going well—until it wasn’t.

A sudden, sharp pain shot through your lower abdomen, making you suck in a breath. Before you could process it, a warm gush of liquid pooled between your legs.

Mitsuki’s eyes widened. "Oh, shit."

Masaru immediately stood up, his usual calm demeanor replaced with mild panic. "I-Is it—"

"Yeah, it is!" you gasped, wincing as another contraction rippled through you. "My water just broke!"

Mitsuki jumped up, already grabbing her phone. "Alright, don’t freak out. Breathe. We’re gonna get you to a hospital."

As she dialed Katsuki’s number, you clenched your teeth, gripping the couch’s armrest. Your baby was coming early, and you weren’t sure if Katsuki would even make it back in time.

Mitsuki cursed under her breath as the call went straight to voicemail. "Damn it, Katsuki! Pick up!" She tried again and again, but there was no response.

Masaru was already grabbing the hospital bag you had brought with you just in case. "I'll start the car!"

"Mitsuki, what do we do?" you panted, fear creeping into your voice.

Mitsuki put her hands on her hips, determined fire in her eyes. "We get you to the hospital, and when that idiot finally checks his phone, he'll be sprinting his ass over here faster than he's ever moved in his life."

You let out a shaky breath, gripping Mitsuki’s arm as she helped you up. Another contraction hit, and you swore under your breath. Your little one was not going to wait.

Mitsuki muttered a string of curses as she helped you out the door, Masaru right behind her with your bag. The drive to the hospital was a blur of pain and hurried reassurances from Mitsuki. "You're doing fine, brat. Just breathe. Katsuki's going to lose his damn mind when he finds out he missed this."

As the hospital came into view, you gritted your teeth against another contraction, your fingers gripping the seatbelt tightly. "I need him here, Mitsuki…"

"I know," she murmured, sparing you a rare look of genuine softness. "And he'll be here. One way or another."

The nurses were quick to admit you, wheeling you into a delivery room as Masaru stayed behind to handle the paperwork. Mitsuki refused to leave your side, barking at the medical staff to move faster, her usual sharp tongue unfiltered.

Meanwhile, somewhere far away, Katsuki was wrapping up his mission, exhaustion clinging to his bones. It wasn’t until his communicator buzzed repeatedly that he finally fished it out of his pocket, irritation flashing across his face—until he saw Mitsuki’s name.

His heart skipped a beat. "What the hell—"

The moment he answered, Mitsuki’s voice practically exploded through the speaker. "Where the hell have you been, dumbass!? Your kid’s coming early, and your wife is already at the hospital!"

Katsuki froze. His brain took a full three seconds to process the words before his instincts kicked in. "Shit! I'm coming!" He was already sprinting toward the transport vehicle before the call even ended, barking orders at the crew to get him back as fast as possible.

Back at the hospital, your contractions were getting closer together, sweat beading your forehead as Mitsuki squeezed your hand. "You're doing good, kid. I swear, if Katsuki doesn't show up in time, I'll make him change every single diaper for the next year."

You let out a weak laugh, wincing as another wave of pain hit. "Deal."

Just as the nurses started urging you to push, the door flew open, and a disheveled, frantic Katsuki burst in, still in his mission gear, breathing heavily. His eyes immediately locked onto you, wide with a mixture of panic and relief.

"Shit—I'm here! I'm here!" he shouted, rushing to your side.

Mitsuki smirked. "Took you long enough, dumbass. Now get over here and hold her damn hand."

Katsuki grabbed your hand, pressing his forehead against yours as he whispered, "I’m so sorry I wasn't here sooner. I love you. Both of you."

Through the haze of pain, you smiled. "Just in time, Katsuki… just in time."

And with that, you bore down, knowing that your little one was about to enter the world—right into the arms of the man who would love them more than anything.

[lexiputellas]

Broken Vows

You and Alexia have been together for years.

You dated.

She proposed.

You got married.

Had baby number one.

Then baby number two.

And then, she was gone, just not physically. She was still here, still in the same house, still sharing the same bed, but the Alexia you knew, the Alexia who used to reach for you in the middle of the night, who used to whisper I love you against your skin, who used to wrap her arms around you from behind while you made breakfast—she wasn’t here anymore.

You don’t remember exactly when it started.

At first, you thought it was just a phase, maybe something was going on with the team, maybe she was just exhausted. She was older now, her body had to work harder, her mind had to be sharper—maybe she just didn’t have it in her to give you the same attention as before.

You made excuses for her, over and over. Until eventually, you ran out of them.

It was May 10. The day you got married.

You woke up to an empty bed.

No note. No text.

Just silence.

You checked your phone, it was seven a.m.

You went downstairs, Alexia wasn’t there. Maybe she was planning something, you told yourself. Maybe she had left early to set up a surprise.

You got the girls up, got them dressed, took them to school. You stopped at the supermarket on the way home, deciding that if she had forgotten—if this day no longer meant anything to her—you would still try. You would make dinner, something special, something to bring her back to you.

But as you sat in the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles turned white, you let yourself think it—really think it.

How pathetic your life had become.

You used to have a career. You used to have close friends. You used to have a version of yourself that existed outside of her.

And then, somehow, it became just Alexia.

She needed you home. She needed your support. She needed you to travel to games, to be her anchor, to give her stability. It made her happy. And for a long time, that was enough.

But now?

Now, you walked into a house that was too big, too empty, too silent.

A house full of everything.

And yet, you felt nothing.

Because if you let yourself feel something—really feel it—you would break.

And you couldn’t afford that. You were supposed to be strong.

That night, Alexia came home at eleven.

You heard the door click shut, the familiar sound of keys hitting the dish by the entrance.

You didn’t move.

Dinner sat untouched on the counter, long gone cold. The girls had eaten hours ago. You had read to them, tucked them in, kissed their foreheads when they asked where mamá was.

You had lied. Told them she was working late. That she would see them in the morning. That she loved them, and maybe that last part was still true. Maybe.

You sat curled on the couch, a half-empty wine glass dangling from your fingers, watching the doorway as she stepped inside.

She didn’t look at you. Didn’t acknowledge you.

Just toed off her shoes, stretched her neck, and walked past you like a ghost drifting through walls.

You stayed still, your grip tightening around the glass.

It used to be different.

She used to come home and find you, kiss you before doing anything else. She used to make it seem like being home, with you, was the thing that kept her steady.

Now, you were just part of the furniture.

You let out a slow breath and looked at the photos on the TV stand, the ones you had stopped dusting as often because you hated being reminded.

Iris’s first birthday.

You and Alexia, beaming, so in love, so happy.

And now? Now you sat alone in a house that felt too big, drowning in silence, sipping wine just to feel something.

You sighed, setting your glass down before dragging yourself upstairs.

The hallway was quiet. The girls’ door was cracked open just enough for you to peek inside, to see them breathing softly in their beds.

You lingered there for a moment before continuing down the hall.

Your bedroom sat at the end, the bedding was smooth, untouched, the Pratesi sheets perfectly in place.

Before Alexia, you didn’t care what high-thread-count cotton percale and sateen were. But you had learned. You had learned how to be the person she needed, the person who smoothed out wrinkles and knew how to set a table and made sure her life was seamless.

You stepped inside, and she was there, in the closet, changing.

She looked perfect, as always.

Time hadn’t touched her the way it had touched you.

You sat on the edge of the bed, catching your own reflection in the mirror. You weren’t the same.

Your breasts weren’t as full, your stomach wasn’t as flat. The fine lines on your face were only hidden by Botox, by filler, by the desperate need to hold onto something slipping through your fingers.

Maybe she had found someone younger. Someone prettier. The thought made you swallow hard, your nails digging into your palms.

Alexia stepped out of the closet, placing her phone on the nightstand. She didn’t say anything. Didn’t look at you.

And you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Why did you come home so late?” you asked softly. “The girls missed you at dinner.”

She turned to you then, finally meeting your gaze.

And then, just as quickly, she softened.

Her hands cupped your face, her thumbs brushing over your cheekbones.

“Sorry, baby,” she murmured. “I was at the gym with the physio until late.”

Then she kissed you.

And for a second, just a second, you let yourself sink into it.

It had been so long since she kissed you like this.

But it didn’t feel like her.

It didn’t feel like the Alexia you had fallen in love with.

She smelled different. She felt different. Like someone you could touch but never quite reach.

Your hands found her wrists, fingers curling around them.

“We have a gym at home,” you whispered. “Why did you have to stay there?”

Her jaw tensed.

“Don’t start now,” she said. “You know it’s different.”

Before you could respond, she kissed you again.

Harder.

Desperate.

Like she needed to silence you.

Her hands moved, unbuttoning your blouse with ease, pushing the fabric off your shoulders.

This was easier than asking the questions you didn’t want to know the answers to.

She pushed you onto the bed, her body pressing into yours.

Her hands were firm, practiced, moving across your skin with the same familiarity as always. But there was something mechanical about it, something detached.

She knew your body like a map, but tonight, she wasn’t exploring, she was just following directions.

She reached for the nightstand, her breath warm against your collarbone, her fingers working quickly.

You knew what was coming. You knew.

And still, you let her.

Because this was the only time she touched you anymore.

She moved inside you, slow at first, then faster, rougher.

Your body reacted out of instinct, your back arching, your breath catching. But it wasn’t her you felt.

It was the distance.

It was the realization that no matter how close she got, no matter how deep she was inside you, she was still so far away.

Her lips ghosted over your shoulder, her hands gripping your hips like she owned you.

And then, you felt it.

Not her.

The tears slipping down your face.

Because nothing had ever felt more like an ending than this.

[silverheartlugia2000]

Mmm.. just a little what if thought, not necessarily to clash with all the group nesting just a scene that was in my head.

Alfred wakes to a disturbance. Now, in the years he's watched over his family, he's grown used to waking in the night to many different things. He knows this house. He knows his charges. He's developed a sort of sense of where and when he was needed most. Dare say this most recent case his boys are whipped up in is most informative to his own quiet questions in recent years.

However, this particular kind of disturbance he doesn't remember waking to for quite some time.

Alfred slips from his bed and pulls on his night robe and slippers. As much as a stickler he us for proper attire, being this late at night and if it is what he thinks it is, suits would not help.

Padding into the kitchen, he finds the lights already on, and many doors open just a crack. Alfred quietly whips up the traditional special cocoa reserved for instances such as this.

Tray in hand, the elderly man instinctively heads toward the pantry door. There in the corner sat Jason, staring onto the void with vivid green. The boy he brought with him curled in his lap.

Jason's hold is one you would expect used for a child much smaller than the boy was. One that reminds Alfred of himself or Bruce on many nights in years past.

The rest of his family is still investigating that town, the Outlaws as well. It was very much a surprise that instead of staying to reign chaos with the rest, the first thought in Jasons head after hitting his panic button was "GTFO". As well as being rather vague on what sort of 'isolated containment' he found Danny in.

He sits the tray on the floor and eases himself down as well. Pressing against the man's side to wait paitently.

It's strange when old habits tend to linger. Anyone can tell you former Robin's are experts at staying hidden, and each one had preferred spaces in the manor. Jason always had more hiding places than the others given where he came from. Unfortunately, the boy has long outgrown most of them. The pantry, however, has always been one only used when seeking a specific sort of comfort after the worst nightmares.

Alfred waits, sipping his own mug quietly while the other cools. It might do Danny good to have another smoothie while they're here. The poor boy still isn't very responsive beyond a base instinctual level, often acting more like a kitten than a child. And it will still be some time before Alfred is comfortable giving him solid foods again.

It's only a few minutes he thinks, when Jason takes an audible, slow breath and leans into Alfred.

"...what are the odds.." Jason asks, so quietly that it sounds broken, "That the pit drags me to a random patch of ground and tells me to dig. Only to find the same nightmare that's haunted me since I came back happening to someone else.."

Alfred's core aches. Carefully setting his cup down and drawing the boy close. His children are never too old to cry in his arms. Cocoa can always be remade after all.

The Outlaws are investigating a small town in Illinois. They don't get very far into town though when Jason feels a weird tug at his chest. He can't help but follow it to a graveyard and then to a specific grave. It is there he witnesses something he never thought he'd experience from an outsider's perspective. A boy trying to claw his way out of his grave.

[vicsstufff]

NO ME SUELTES — p.bueckers x fem!reader

۶ৎ - summary: paige kinda loves early mornings, enjoying the day since the first hour, but, it all changes when she wakes up with you.

۶ৎ - wc: 476

۶ৎ - content/warnings: grumpy paige

authors note | BLURB! rauw alejandro supremacy, happy game day too!! i got my braces on 2 days ago and they hurt sooo bad 💔

the rain lullaby you back to sleep, not fully concentrating in where you are right now. it wasn’t necessary to close the curtains this time of year, when the clouds didn’t make any space for the sun to shine, you couldn’t recall when it was the last time that california was this cloudy, maybe because you weren’t in california.

familiar steps jogging slowly towards the bedroom door made your eyes fully open, you definitely weren’t in your college dorm back in california. you tried to take a deep breath before feeling a weight on your chest and stomach preventing you from doing so.

“girly, get up!” kk whispered urgently, shaking your hand that wasn’t tangled with the body on top of you. “what- what happened?” your voice came out husky and dry as you sighed pulling your hands lazily rubbing your eyes trying to shake away the sleep. “i’m starving… can we get chick-fll-a?” kk mouthed softly grabbing your hands separating them from your sleepy eyes. “what time is it?” you said softly, kk’s face becoming more clear as you finally open your eyelids, the body made its presence clear gripping your uconn sweater you are wearing. “okay-don’t ignore me! i have human needs.” kk protested, slamming loudly her arms against her sides and because of this action, a annoyed whimper came from paige who quickly turned back into her original position. “‘m going to leave that to you, but hurry up!” kk said making her way out the chilly room, closing the door behind her.

you groaned, noticing the hour, 9 am, last night wasn’t what you really expected for visiting connecticut for the first time. paige introducing you to her teammates, staying up late, filming tiktok’s and doing lives while you and paige wandered off to her room, getting nasty looks once you came back.

“p…” you uttered, reaching uncomfortably for your phone, paige had woken up by the sudden stretch you toke. “jesus, it’s so early.” she said low hiding her gloomy face in the side of your neck. “come on, kk is hungry.” you hinted. “bro, she is a grown ass woman. why does she need us?” she complained noisily. “i heard that p boogers!”

“y’all definitely don’t mind if i put on music, right?” kk questioned slamming clumsily the car door, making paige grimace. “yes—“ “no.” you quickly interrupted her. kk made her way to turn up the volume of the song making paige take her hand away from your thigh, a tradition that she had always loved. the car suddenly stopped, kk, who was caught in between the driver seat and the co-pilot seat, her body slammed into the back seats, her phone flying away from her hand and her neck twisted in a awkward way. “what the fuck, paige!” she screamed while paige smirked and concentrated on the road.

[luvst4rc0r3]

“Drunken courage”

Sevika x reader

The Last Drop was loud, chaotic, and reeking of sweat, smoke, and bad decisions—just the way Sevika liked it. After the argument earlier, she’d needed space, a drink, and a place where no one expected her to talk.

So, there she was, nursing a glass of something strong, letting the background noise swallow her frustration.

Then you walked in.

Sevika froze, her grip on her drink tightening. Shit.

She thought you’d gone home. After all, you were the one who told her to leave—yelling, pacing, getting that little crease between your brows that meant you were beyond mad. Sevika hadn’t fought back much; she knew when to pick her battles, and tonight, she’d chosen to retreat.

And now, here you were, looking like trouble.

You marched straight to the bar, ordered something way too strong, then downed it like you were trying to set your insides on fire. You didn’t even notice her at first. Just strode up to the bar, ordered a drink, then another… then another. Sevika wasn’t even sure what had you so pissed off anymore. It had started over something small, but like all fights with you, it had spiraled into something bigger. You were mad, she was mad, and neither of you were ever good at backing down.

Sevika sighed, rolling her shoulders. She should’ve left before you saw her.

But she didn’t.

She stayed.

And the second you turned your head, your gaze landed on her.

For a moment, you just blinked. Then your expression twisted into something fiery, familiar.

“You!” you slurred, pointing dramatically. “You absolute, thick-headed, stubborn-ass—do you even hear yourself when you talk?! Do you think before you open your damn mouth?!”

Sevika exhaled through her nose, tilting her glass back. “Here we go.”

“No, no, don’t ‘here we go’ me!” You stumbled forward, eyes blazing, hands moving like you were trying to swat at invisible problems. “You—ugh, you drive me insane, Sevika! Do you even—do you even hear yourself when you talk? You think you’re all big and bad and—gods, you’re so stubborn! And—and frustrating! And—ugh!”

The Last Drop had never been this quiet.

Every gambler, every drinker, every brawler who had ever seen Sevika knock a man out cold with a single punch… was now witnessing you, standing in front of her, absolutely going off like she was some rookie enforcer who’d just tripped on their own billy club. every brawler who had ever seen Sevika destroy men twice her size… was now watching her sit there, completely still, as you unleashed all your fury on her.

And she just took it.

Didn’t argue. Didn’t roll her eyes. Didn’t tell you to shut up.

She just sat there, letting you get it all out, watching you with something… soft in her gaze.

“You always act like you don’t care, but then—then you do these little things,” you accused, voice wavering. “Like making sure I get home safe. Or bringing me food when I forget to eat. Or—gods, Sevika, you act like you don’t give a damn, but I know you do!”

“You always have to act like you’re the biggest, baddest bitch in the room, but when it comes to us? You run!” you accused, hands flailing in exasperation. “Oh, I need to be alone. Oh, I don’t have time for feelings—Sevika, if you don’t want this, just say it! Just—just say you don’t care and I’ll stop wasting my damn time!”

Your voice cracked, and Sevika’s jaw clenched. She wanted to reach for you, but she knew better. You weren’t done yet.

“I—” Your breath hitched, and you swallowed hard. “I just don’t get it. If you want me, just say it. If you don’t, then—then let me go. But stop acting like you can just walk away and I won’t care, because I do, Sev. I care too much and it sucks.”

You were almost crying by the time you finished, eyes glassy, shoulders tense. The silence stretched between you both, thick enough to choke on. Around you, waiting to see what would happen.

Silence.

The whole bar was watching. Hell, they’d stopped pretending not to.

Sevika sighed, slow and heavy, before pushing herself up from her seat.

You immediately stiffened, like you expected her to storm off. Maybe you even wanted her to.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she stepped forward, closing the space between you, her human hand reaching up to cup your jaw. Her thumb brushed over your cheek—so, so gentle.

“Of course I want you,” she murmured. “I thought that was obvious.”

You blinked up at her, lips parting, but no words came out.

“You’re drunk.”

Your hands balled into fists. “No shit, genius.”

“And you’re gonna regret this in the morning.”

“I regret you,” you shot back, still fuming.

Sevika let out a sharp exhale through her nose—was that a laugh? Oh, that just made you madder.

“I hate you,” you grumbled, crossing your arms like a petulant child.

Once her laugher died down she exhaled softly. “I’m not good at this,” she admitted, her voice quieter now, just for you. “Talking. Feeling. I don’t know how to say the right things, and I don’t want to screw this up, so… yeah. I left. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

Your bottom lip wobbled slightly, and Sevika had to fight every instinct to just pull you into her arms right then and there.

“You done yelling at me?” she teased, the corner of her lips twitching up just the slightest bit.

You let out a breathy, exhausted laugh. “No. But I’m tired.”

Sevika huffed, shaking her head before wrapping an arm around you. “C’mon,” she muttered, steering you toward the door. “Let’s get you home before you start crying in front of a bunch of thugs.”

You grumbled something into her shoulder, but let her lead you out, letting yourself lean into her warmth.

“You’re gonna hate yourself in the morning, and I really don’t feel like dealing with your hungover whining.”

And as the doors of The Last Drop swung shut behind you, the whispers and bets started.

“Never thought I’d see her get chewed out like that.”

“Yeah? And live to tell the tale?”

“Man, she’s so whipped.”

IM TRYING TO COMPLETE REQUESTS AND MANAGE HOMEWORK😭

I NEED SLEEP RN I AM DEPRIVED OF IT

[ddiwata]

if you could only know me (like your prayers at night) — the day you said goodnight, hale

— mydeimos x fem! wife! reader

— help.. help.. his words to phainon.. i cant breathe.. requests open!!

— warnings : MAJOR spoilers for the new quest, angst 💔💔 just tears and desperation idk!! no usage of y/n :3 devil works hard but i work extremely harder

— 🩸

“i’ll be leaving okhema soon to fight the greatest darkness of the world. and to shoulder nikador’s destiny. so, listen well: if there comes a day when we meet again on the battlefield, and i stand opposed to the flame-chase..

remember to stab your sword into my back and through my tenth thoracic vertebra. that’s my weakspot, and the only way to kill me.”

mydeimos’ last words to phainon. he planned to pack up and leave, with nothing but the clothes he has on and his bloodlust coursing through his veins. but every time he gazes down at his fingers, stained with the blood of too many to count. but the twinkle of gold around his ring finger makes him hesitate. he shouldn’t hesitate. he isn’t someone who hesitates.

but the words of his wife rings in his head. “i had these rings forged! look, it’s gold. it matches your armor!” his heart clenches and he can’t bear to say goodbye. to leave her like this. but he can’t bear to see her eyes fill with tears, her hands trembling as she pleads for him to stay when he says goodbye.

too many people he’s slain, too many people grovel at his feet. but every time his wife sobs, he feels mortal. fragile. so he leaves when night has fallen over their humble abode. his wife’s body comfortable underneath the weighted blanket they share, locks messy and her face relaxed— often marred by horror and concern when she finds out he’s died for the nth time after another battle.

he prays—for the first time—that his love won’t cry when she finds out. standing at the gate, where he’ll leave and won’t come back, he exhales deeply.

“walk out of okhema and i swear to the gods, i will divorce you, mydeimos.” the frail threat hangs in the air, and the prince turns around to see his wife—beautiful, tired, and utterly radiant. his breath hitches and he swallows. “it was a mistake giving that coreflame up. you know that, my love,” he looks away, eyebrows furrowing.

“why didn’t you wake me?” she asks firmly, voice cracking in a moment of weakness. mydei knows she’s trembling, fighting the urge to hold onto him. “i didn’t want to see the only reason why i want to stay hurt because of something i did. i left you a letter, but i’m.. horrible at writing.” he groans, his armored feet moving without the intention to.

he falls in his beloved’s arms, soft, sweet, and holding him so tightly. “my love, please forgive me.” de whispers, his cold, gloved hands grasping onto his wife’s cheeks. for the first time in a while, he feels tears trail down his cheeks and her soft thumb wiping it away as she stares up at him.

“you must go. and i understand..” she presses her forehead against her husband’s, nose brushing against his as she exhales softly, “do not lose yourself. come home to me.. please.”

a swift press to her lips, his own locking onto his wife’s, a familiar gesture— but this time it’s filled with grief. longing— desperation. he pulls away just as he kisses her, and with a gentle squeeze to her arms, he leaves, disappearing with the wind.

[digi-diareis]

Teen MC snapping at Caleb

Context: Yk how when you're teenagers, guys think the only way to flirt with the person they like is by teasing them? Well, imagine if Caleb had an era like this until it went too far and mc finally snapped at him.

Beware: this is gonna be SO BAD. im not a writer at all and english isn't my first language either. its just that i've had this scenario in my head for a few days now and i needed it out of my system. Also, I decided to use they/them pronouns for mc. So its more inclusive that way and also bcs even I personally don't always refer to my mc as she/her. So yeah, for the bitches, bros and non binary hoes.

Imagine this, Caleb and you bantering like usual on your way home but you're having an off day which makes it easier for you to get pissed off and fed up with all the teasing. Unfortunately, Caleb doesn't notice this and keeps teasing you until you just snap.

So mc, exasperated, scoffs at him and turns around to leave with their arms folded across their chest and eyebrows scrunched so hard they almost look like a unibrow.

"I'm done talking you. Go find someone else to pick on, Caleb. I'm not in the mood."

Sensing the sudden shift of mood, Caleb is speechless for a bit and left floundering, looking for the right words to say. He thought this was just your usual banter so why were you suddenly taking the jokes seriously? Hell, he can't let you stay in a bad mood for the entire day because that means he's getting the silent treatment and he'd rather die (well not really but he almost feels like it) than have you completely ignore his entire existence. Again.

He approaches you slowly, using a gentle voice to not alarm you the same way one would with a hissing kitten.

"Pipsqueak? Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry... Tell me what it was and I promise I won't say it again. Don't be mad anymore, we don't want you to develop any more wrinkles, do we?"

And oh, the way you stiffened up, very much reminiscent of a stray cat on full alarm against anybody trying to steal its food. Caleb gulps, knowing somewhere along the lines, he triggered a tripwire and a bomb's about to blow.

"Uhm! You know what, nevermind me! How about we go buy your favorite snack? Oh, what a coincidence your favorite stall is right around the corner-"

You turn around with a glare that makes him immediately shut up, looking like you're about to rip him a new one.

"WRINKLES?! First, you make fun of my height. Calling me pipsqueak around everyone and never shutting your damn mouth about how not a day has passed where I was taller than you. Then you start being weirdly aggressive towards my other guy friends, which by the way, what the fuck? Now most of them won't even talk to me anymore! What is your problem?! And now, you're calling me OLD and UGLY?!"

"I-I never said -"

"Shut your damn mouth and listen to me, Caleb! You have been getting on my nerves lately! I've been trying to convince myself that this is all just friendly banter but sometimes, you go too far that I don't even know if I can still laugh it off! We used to be best friends but now, its so easy for you to make fun of me. I don't know what I ever did to deserve this but oh my god, if you hate me this much then just stop hanging around me!"

Mc is heaving by the end of their entire speech, extremely worked up and upset that they're red in the face. They had been bottling this up for the past few weeks so letting it out almost felt cathartic.

Caleb is stuck in place, throat dry and mouth open but words won't come out. Was that how it's been like for you? Had he taken the jokes too far recently? Maybe it was wrong to listen to the other guys in his class who said that teens tend to fall for guys who act terrible, the bad boy stereotype is popular nowadays.

He looks down, feeling guilty and pathetic that he ended up making you feel like you hated him when you were the person who embodied everything he loved. You made him feel like flying and falling, all at the same time. So how could he hurt you like this? He had to make things right before it was too late.

"I'm sorry. Its all my fault. I shouldn't have said all those hurtful things to you, even if it was a joke or not. At the end of the day, they hurt you and that's not right. Please believe me when I say that I could never hate being around you. That couldn't be more wrong, not when all I ever want to do is be by your side. So please don't tell me to stop hanging around you, just thinking about it feels like my chest is being squeezed that it hurts. I promise I won't make the same mistakes again, so please forgive me?"

He's nervous, fiddling with his hands while he looks you in the eye. He reminds you of a wet puppy under the rain, begging you to bring him home with you. You knew the moment he pulled those puppy dog eyes that you would eventually lose, you could never say no to him. Not when you were kids and not now.

You sigh, shoulders slumping and the frown gone from your face. Now you just look tired, which only makes him more worried, maybe you're tired of him? No, that can't be. What would happen to him if you decide he's not worth keeping around anymore? He just might stop functioning all together.

You turn your back and start walking home, he feels his heart drop thinking this is it. You're leaving him behind– that is until you turn your head to the side, side eyeing him with a blush on your face.

"What're you standing there for, I thought you were going to buy me my favorite snack? Don't get the wrong idea, I'm not forgiving you just yet. Not until I've had my fill."

After that day, Caleb completely changes. Or maybe its more accurate to say he reverted back to how he used to be when you guys were kids. Doting, attentive and extremely supportive. He still banters with you from time to time but he never goes out of his way to start one. Although, there is one thing that doesn't change and that's how over protective he still is, he's still acting like a guard dog and being threatening towards all the guys in your class but at this point, you're just happy to have your best friend back again.

And just like that, Caleb's popularity spikes in your class because suddenly, every girl wants a guy who comes at their beck and call and attends to their needs. No more bad boy persona for them, they just want someone who worships the ground they walk on the same way Caleb does for you.

[lazysoulwriter]

hidden - pedro pascal.

summary: You and Pedro Pascal were cast in a film together for the first time. What started as strangers quickly turned into secret passion—stolen kisses, hidden touches, and undeniable chemistry, all behind closed doors.

The interview was supposed to be standard. The entire cast sat in a semi-circle, the interviewer in the center, the cameras rolling. It was another day of press for the film. And yet, from the moment Pedro walked in, something felt off.

Not off for the others—no, everyone else was acting just fine. But you? You felt like you were on edge. Like there was an invisible line you couldn’t cross, but your entire body was thrumming with the need to step over it.

Pedro sat beside you, close enough that his thigh barely brushed against yours. It was innocent. Entirely innocent. And yet, you felt it like a shock of electricity.

The interview began with the usual questions.

Interviewer: So, what was the most challenging scene to film?

You exhaled slowly. Safe question.

Co-star: Oh, definitely the fight sequence in the third act. That choreography was insane!

Pedro: Yeah, that one took weeks to perfect. But I think my biggest challenge was working with her— (he nudges you with his shoulder) —because she’s ridiculously talented and kept making me break character.

You rolled your eyes playfully, ignoring the heat crawling up your neck. “That’s not true.”

Pedro: It is. I’d be in the zone, and then I’d look at you, and boom—gone. Completely lost in the moment.

You were about to respond when the interviewer grinned. “Speaking of chemistry, the internet has been losing it over how natural your dynamic is on-screen. How did you two build that so quickly?”

You opened your mouth, but Pedro beat you to it. “It’s magic.”

The room laughed. You laughed too, but you felt Pedro’s knee tap against yours beneath the table. A tiny, secret touch.

You cleared your throat. “Honestly, it was just a lot of rehearsals. We spent time together, got to know each other, and it just clicked.”

Interviewer: Some would say too well.

Pedro smirked. “Well, we are professionals.”

You crossed your legs, trying to ignore the way he was watching you from the corner of his eye.

The interview continued, moving onto funnier questions.

Interviewer: Okay, lightning round! Who’s most likely to forget their lines?

Everyone shouted Pedro’s name in unison.

He held a hand to his chest. “Wow. Betrayed.”

Interviewer: Who’s most likely to trip on set?

You snorted. “Me.”

Pedro nodded. “Yeah, definitely her.”

Interviewer: Who’s most likely to fall in love with their co-star?

There was a beat of silence. A split second where you felt the air shift. Then, your co-star said someone else’s name, another cast member joked about themselves, and Pedro stayed quiet.

He just smiled. Smug. Knowing.

And then came the fan question.

Interviewer: This one is from @ObsessedPedro on Twitter— 'Do you think your characters fell in love so easily because you two actually like each other? 👀’

You went still.

Pedro chuckled. “Oh wow.”

The cast erupted into laughter. Your co-star even clapped, like it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard.

Your heart pounded. “That’s—no. I mean, the script was written that way. We just followed the story.”

Pedro hummed. “Mmm.”

You turned to him, eyebrows raised. “Mmm?”

He grinned. “Just agreeing with you.”

Bullshit.

The interviewer looked between the two of you, clearly picking up on something. “So… you’re denying it?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

Pedro tilted his head slightly, lips curling at the edges. “Sure.”

The cast burst into laughter again. You wanted to die.

And just when you thought you were safe, the interviewer decided to drive the final nail in. “Because you two act different around each other, you know that, right?”

Silence.

Pedro raised his eyebrows, waiting for your response. You blinked, speechless.

Then you scoffed. “We do not.”

Your co-star snickered. “You kinda do.”

Pedro leaned in just slightly. “I think what she’s trying to say is… no comment.”

He was insufferable.

The interview ended soon after, but the damage was done. The internet would be in flames before you even got to your hotel room. And as you walked off set, Pedro lingered, letting the others go ahead. When you finally turned to him, ready to scold him for being so obvious, he just smirked.

Then, low enough that only you could hear, he murmured, “You know we just proved them right, right?”

And with that, he walked away.

Leaving you standing there, heart hammering, knowing you were absolutely screwed.

[v00do-d0ll]

I just had a idea for a prompt for a Superbat fic. One of my favorite things I have a headcanon for in Batman stories is Bruce’s emotions being so much that he can’t help but have them show in a moment of panic.

And this is not really a trope you can find in Batman fics because Bruce is so trained to not panic in stressful situations.

But I was just thinking like what if there was a fic, where Bruce and Clark are dating in secret and nobody knows not even the kids; and there’s this huge fight that everybody is hands on deck for. The Justice League is there, the Teen Titans are there, and so are all of Bruce and Clark’s kids.

And something happens to Clark to where he’s down and he’s injured badly, and the sun is not helping him at that moment. (It could be because it’s cloudy, Something covering the sun, or he’s just so badly injured and there’s enough kryptonite around to keep him from healing)

And while Clark is down, they managed to defeat or subdue the villain. Afterwards everybody runs over to Clark who’s bleeding out. And Bruce is the first one there and he’s trying his hardest to help him. He’s putting pressure over a wound that’s bleeding profusely. And he’s frantically talking to Clark because he knows it’s bad this time.

And everybody’s surrounding them, and there are a few others also trying to help Clark. But something happens and Clark’s heart stops. For a moment nobody moves, nobody even breathes. Until Bruce absolutely loses it.

He’s screams so loud that it makes everybody jump, and it’s such a scream that you could hear the desperate plea in it. He’s frantically giving Clark CPR while crying, Screaming “No, no, no! Clark come on don’t leave me” “Please don’t leave me.” “I can’t do this without you.” “You promised me you’d stay.” “I CAN’T take another death! Please!”

And everybody’s watching in stunned silence over how badly Bruce is freaking out. Because Bruce never freaks out. He’s always calm and collected. He’s the first person people turn to in situations like this one. But he’s hyperventilating. Tears are coming out from underneath his mask. His voice is going horse from the scream he let out. And nobody knows what to do for him.

The kids are all crying or on the verge, and seeing their father or mentor break down scares them even more. Because if Bruce is this panicked they know it’s probably over, and they don’t know what to do with that information. Dick is holding Damien and Jason against him. Tim and Kon are holding onto each other. John is clutching Damiens hand. Cass, Steph and Duke are motionless. The last time Bruce was like this was when Jason died, but the only person that saw him in that state was Clark.

But after a minute; which felt like an eternity. Clark takes a breath and opens his eyes.(They didn’t notice that the clouds had uncovered the sun slightly and Clark had started to slowly heal), Bruce throws himself at him. Sobbing even harder than before. He pulls off the cowl and puts his ear down to Clark’s chest to make sure he can hear his heartbeat. When he looks up, Clark is already staring at him. And he can’t take it, that was the closest call they’d ever had. He throws himself at Kal and kisses him right there.

Everyone gasps. Bruce desperately holding onto Clark as he kisses him with so much love and desperation. It’s the type of kiss that says “I love you, please don’t ever scare me like that again.” When they pull apart, Clark is the first one to look at everyone around them. He’s looking at everyone’s shocked faces. From the Justice League to their children. He doesn’t know what to say, because Bruce is still holding onto him.

Bruce takes that moment to recompose himself. He turns his head towards everybody and assesses the damage. He pulls his cowl back on, and says “I’m taking Clark to the med bay.” He helps Clark up and they leave together. And if Bruce is holding onto Clark a little tighter than he needs to, that’s nobody’s business.

Once they’re gone, everybody turns towards each other with complete shock on their faces ,still overwhelmed by what just happened and the revelation about their teammates and fathers. Everyone looking at each other silently asking the question “Did anybody know?” From the looks on everyone’s faces, nobody did.

Dick looks around to his family “We… we should go check on them” he says softly still in shock. Dragging Damien, John and Jason over to the Bat-plane. The rest of the team following in complete silence, As it finally hits them that Bruce and Clark are much more than friends and it seems that they’ve been that way for a while.

[moonlight-alexia]

Starfish and Caitlin comforting Katie after the lose to Slovenia on Facetime.

not really posting/writing atm but i couldn't not do this one <3 so pls enjoy i really hope you do

any and all feedback, comments, reblogs etc are very appreciated and welcome <3

gentle connection ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

‘Mammy!’ You exclaimed when you saw your mammy’s face through the screen of your mummy’s phone. You were on camp with your mummy and you tried to talk to your mammy whenever you got the chance. But mostly you were out like a light from running around with Harper and the other Australia girls all day.

‘Starfish, inside voice remember,’ Your mummy reminded you, you hadn’t had a big day like the last few so you were excited that you were able to talk to your mammy. 

Caitlin had called Katie a bit earlier while Alanna and Kyra were distracting you so your mummy could comfort your mammy a little. They were both lucky, you understood emotions and what other people needed often but sometimes they still need those moments just the two of them. 

‘Hi mammy,’ You whispered, giving a little wave to Katie who was on the other side of the phone. 

‘Hi my little Starfish,’ Katie smiled softly, giving you a little wave back. Seeing you, even if it was through a screen, made Katie’s day a lot better. Your mammy, not that she would really admit it, had been missing you a bit more this camp. A lot for her to adjust to and if it wasn’t for Australia’s kit debut, you would’ve been there with her instead. Something that Caitlin now felt a little guilty about now after seeing how deflated Katie was.

You sat in your mummy’s lap, her arms wrapped around your waist while you happily talked your mammy’s ear off. It wasn’t often Katie was this quiet, but she was more than happy to listen to everything you’d been up to right now. The first time you’d been away from your mammy where you’d barely been able to talk to her, and listening to you talk, the familiarity helped your mammy. 

‘I’m having lots of fun mammy, but I miss you and counting down the days til ‘m home with you,’ Your voice trailed off, you were observant, your mums knew that but they often forgot just how observant and in tune with others you were, that it might become a problem for you later on. 

But now, you gave your mammy a small smile while she told you how much she misses you and can’t wait til you’re all home again, ‘Mummy,’ Your voice cut through the little silence that had floated between the three of you, you turned your head looking at Caitlin. Your mummy hummed a little in acknowledgment, ‘Can I talk to mammy, just me and mammy please,’

Caitlin smiled and placed you down in the middle of the bed, making sure you were all comfy against the pillows. There used to be times Caitlin would feel a tinge of insecurity if you’d want to just talk to your mammy. Perfectly normal, not feeling like she was integrating well into yours and Katie’s dynamic, but she was long over that and enjoyed seeing that bond you had with your mammy, ‘I’ll be right across with Kenzie if you need me,’ 

Your mummy placed a kiss against your forehead before leaving you and your mammy alone. You yawned a little, Katie almost jumping in to suggest you having a little sleep while she stayed on the phone with you, but your voice stopped her before she could say anything, ‘Mummy said you might be a bit sad, you’re more quiet,’ 

Katie gave you a small smile, they tried to be as open with their feelings with you in hopes that when you’d feel safe enough to talk to them about your feelings, ‘It’s been a hard day Starfish. A big loss but seeing you now makes it all better,’ 

Your little eyebrows furrowed while you were thinking, ‘Y’know mammy, mummy lost big too. Yous are the same!’ Katie smiled, a little laugh at the way your eyes lit up when you’d made the connection. Your mummy’s games hadn’t been going all that well either.

‘I guess we are, aren’t we,’ You were happy that you could get a little laugh from your mammy, your efforts to comfort her you believed to have succeeded. You tried to not think too much so you wouldn’t accidentally frown and worry your mammy, but you were starting to realise how hard it was when you were away from either of your mums when they were upset. Wishing they could be happy all the time and never sad.

‘Gonna give you a hug mammy,’ You held the phone against your chest. Katie smiled and, even though you couldn’t see, she held her phone against her chest. To anyone else it might seem strange but to Katie it was really comforting, even though the slight ache in her chest wishing that it was real.

‘I love you Starfish, you give the best hugs,’ Soon enough you’d be home and able to give your mammy a real hug.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

A Helping Hand

Summary: Tyler Owens x fe!Reader -> The times Tyler has helped you without a second thought and without question.

Disclaimer: continued descriptions of painful periods, the four times Tyler had helped you with them. Fluff with a potential for a little steam, unnamed kinda shitty boyfriend at the beginning, happy ending. Not Proof Read.

You always kinda figured that was how it was meant to be. Sure, it would be nice if he helped once in a while. But if he didn’t want to deal with it, then that was okay, right? He was still a good man. Still cared for you. Still made you happy. 

He just didn’t…know what to do when you were in pain. He didn’t know what he was meant to do when your uterus started to prepare itself for a baby that you were both not having and were not ready for even if you were. 

Periods, like for most women you’d met, were painful. Dull aches that never wanted to end, cramps that would creep up your back and down your legs, enough blood being lost that more often than not sent your blood sugars down and your iron levels even lower. 

Some days you didn’t exactly feel like getting out of bed and the ‘light exercise’ the doctor had prescribed you just sounded like complete and utter hell. You were just thankful that, despite the dangers of your job, most of the time you got to choose whether or not you wanted to stay in the van with Javi or Dexter and Dani, or go out into the actual tornado. 

But that didn’t mean the pain stopped. 

“Hey, come on, you’re gonna miss it. Dexter found some cells and-” Tyler stopped in his tracks as he burst into your room. 

You lay in the middle of your bed, your feet on the floor at the end. Your hand pressed as hard as they could into your lower stomach. Your eyes were shut tight and you just looked…uncomfortable. 

“Hey, you okay?”

You just nodded a little. The thought of talking in that moment felt like too much energy. 

“You don’t look it. Are you feeling okay?” A moment later, the back of Tyler’s hand was feeling your forehead. “You’ve got a little temperature. Are you sure-”

“I’m coming onto my period, Tyler.”

“Oh, shit. Right now?”

“Not right this second. But…soon.” Then you stopped talking, feeling the pain shoot down your sides somehow both sharp and dull. 

“You know, you can sit this one out. Want me to bring you back anything? Tampons? Pads? Ice cream?”

You opened your eyes and looked at Tyler. You’d never met a guy brave enough to even think of the word Tampon. 

“You don’t have to-”

Tyler shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. What do you need?”

You somehow managed to talk through the shock. “P-pads. The night ones. With wings.”

Then from outside the door, Boone ran past yelling for you and Tyler to hurry up. 

“Text me a list. Whatever you need.” Tyler smiled at you before leaning down and kissing your cheek. “You rest up.”

“Okay.”

And watching Tyler leave through the door, pulling the cowboy hat onto his head, something hit you. Tyler was the first guy to not freak out about you having a period. Granted, he drove into tornadoes for a living and did have women on his team but…he was the first to never…freak out. 

And that part of him only started to show itself even more. Or, maybe, it was a part of him you truly started to notice. 

After getting back from the chase, Tyler knocked on your door before entering. He was holding a large brown paper bag. “I bring supplies. Four packs of night-time pads with wings. As well as actual wings.” Tyler smiled as he pulled out a small box of barbecue chicken wings. “Also grabbed you some pain medication, couple of different snacks; some salty, some sweet. I didn’t know what you’d fancy. Uh, oh. And, as promised,” Tyler pulled the final thing out of the bag. “Ice cream.”

You smiled up at him from where you were sitting on the bed. “You didn’t have to do this, you know. But, thank you.”

“What’s your pain like? It eased any?”

You made a face. “A little, but not by much.”

“You got a hot water bottle?” 

From under your jacket, you showed him. “Freshly made.”

“Good.”

“Hey, Ty? Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Why doesn’t this freak you out?”

Tyler looked at you as he packed some of the spare items back into the bag so they were out of the way. “What? You having a period?”

You nodded. 

“Sweetheart, a man is not a man if he gets freaked out over something like this. He’s a boy if he does.”

You just stared at him. You knew that, of course. There had been plenty of sleepover conversations about it when you were younger. But you were yet to find anyone of the male human species who didn’t get freaked out over it. 

And that wasn’t the only time Tyler helped you out when you were on your period. 

Not too long after that first interaction, you’d broken up with your boyfriend. There had been plenty of other factors that went into the break-up, but the period thing had been the final nail in the coffin. 

Six months later, you and Tyler had been on a four day road trip. You were both heading to one of the Universities to give a talk on meteorology. However, two days into the road trip, Tyler had stopped at a gas station to fill his tank up. 

Meanwhile, you disappeared into the bathroom and finally let yourself cry. 

For the last two hours in the truck, your insides had been screaming at you. For a while, it had felt like they were clawing at your insides, trying to escape. The aching across your lower back meant that no matter how or where you moved, it fucking killed you. Until finally you were hunched over the sink, your eyes closed, breathing as deeply as you could to shake away the jittering in your blood. 

You didn’t know how long you’d been in that position, but it must have been a while because Tyler eventually knocked on the door. 

“Y/n, you okay in there?”

The gas station was in the middle of nowhere so you knew he wasn’t knocking because you’d caused a line to wait outside. 

“I’m fine.” You hoped he didn’t hear the break in your voice. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

There was a short beat of silence. “Sweetheart, open the door.”

It took you a minute before you plucked up enough courage to move and open the door. And Tyler entered quietly. 

“Take it easy.” Tyler stood behind you, his hands softly coming to your hips. “What number are you at?”

“Like a…” The shaking in your voice didn’t go unnoticed by Tyler. “Nine?”

Tyler nodded. “Is it okay if I try something? It might help.”

You just nodded. Nothing could make it worse.

So, carefully, Tyler lifted your shirt from your shorts before pressing his hands to the bare skin on your back. You were both completely silent whilst he concentrated on the movement of his hands. They were warm, which was one bonus. With continuous movements and a firm pressure, Tyler started to carefully massage your lower back, hips and abdomen. 

As he reached around your front, you managed to stand up straight and lean against him a little. The pain was still dull and still there, but it was no longer as intense. 

“What number we at now, Sweetheart?” Tyler asked, his voice deep and directly at the shell of your ear as his hands remained in the waistband of your shorts, applying soft pressure to your lower half. 

“Maybe three.”

Tyler smiled and kissed your temple. “Good. Think you can walk back to the truck with me?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

By the time the next chasing season came around, you were having yet another period but thankfully the pain hadn’t been as bad as your previous ones. And it had come on time. Not suddenly early, not incredibly late. 

Your app had predicted it, and your period had followed suit. But, again, that didn’t mean the pain stopped completely. 

You had a little more energy than usual and the feelings you got where you wanted to murder every person who got on your nerves was gone. In its place was the kind of cramps every male doctor had told you about growing up. The ‘mild’ kind. 

It was as you were listening to one of Kate’s stories about when her and Javi were chasing with her last team – Javi had walked out of his motel room without any pants on and had given the owner quite the surprise for five in the morning – that Tyler had stepped over the log you were sat on and handed you a cup of ginger tea. You gave him a quiet smile, which he returned, before he sat beside you with a cup of his own. 

You knew he hated the stuff, but he still drank it anyway. 

And when he walked you to your room, kissing you on your cheek to say goodnight, you found a fresh hot water bottle on your bed with a small, handwritten note. “To help.”

You couldn’t help but smile. 

Ever since the first time he’d helped you, he’d done things like that. Hot water bottles, fresh tea. He’d even surprised you once when Lily came running back to the diner bathroom stall, handing you a pad that apparently was from the kit Tyler kept in his truck. 

But the biggest surprise came one evening when you were sitting in the barn, alone, trying your best to calm yourself down as you completed the final logs of test data. 

If he hadn’t spoken, you would have known it was him by the slight scuff of his boots on the barn floor. 

“Here you are. I’ve got something for you.” 

Then on the table, he presented you with a pack of popcorn, a bar of chocolate and a small selection of sour sweets. The same combo he always brought you when-

“How did you know?”

Tyler gave you a slight smile as he sat down beside your desk. “You snapped at Dexter.”

You cringed at the memory. You had apologised profusely immediately afterwards and Dexter had accepted it. But that didn’t stop you from feeling bad. 

“I know. I’m really, really sorry-”

Tyler just chuckled a little. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve already been forgiven.”

You just gave a shy smile and tried to turn back to the work in front of you. 

“When was the last time you had a shower?”

Your neck almost snapped in half as you looked at Tyler. “What?”

“Not for that reason.” Tyler quickly replied. “But you’re stressed. Showers have been proven to ease tension. Something you are currently riddled with.”

“Who says I’m riddled with tension?”

Tyler just smiled and stood up. “Come on. Work can wait.”

“Who says I’m riddled-”

“You do.” Tyler told you as he led you by your shoulder out of the barn but not before turning the desk lamp off. “Your eyebrows are practically being knitted together at that desk. Come on.”

Ten minutes later, Tyler had led you into the house and pushed you in the direction of the bathroom. After five minutes of standing under the hot water, you felt your shoulders finally relax. Twenty minutes after that, your hair was washed and you didn’t hate the world as much as you did before Tyler came and found you in the barn. 

“Where are the others?”

“In town. Kate dragged them to another line dancing night.”

“Why didn’t you go with them? You love to dance.”

Tyler smiled over his shoulder at you as he moved things around the stove. “I do but tonight I wanted to have a quiet night. Also gives me a chance to try out a new recipe without Dani’s judgement.”

Sitting down at the kitchen table, you and Tyler shared a meal before you helped him wash up before eventually finding yourself lying on the sofa, your legs stretched out as far as they would go. 

A few minutes later, Tyler’s fingers graced your head, lightly pushing the drying strands of hair from your face before he handed you a hot water bottle. 

“To help.”

“Thanks.”

“Okay, scoot.”

Pushing you over a little, Tyler lay down on the sofa beside you before scooping his hand under your waist until his arms were practically hugging your middle. With your head on his chest, you let out a content sigh as his hand snuck up the back of your shirt and rested on your lower back. 

“Feeling better?”

“Much.” 

There was a small beat of silence between you both as you lay with your head on his chest, his heartbeat not too far from your ear. Then you asked him a question you’d wanted to know the answer to for a while. 

“Tyler?”

He hummed, the gravel of his voice rumbling into his chest. 

“Why do you do this?”

He opened his eyes and looked at you. “Do what?”

“Help me…that way that you do. I’ve never had to ask, you’ve never once turned green at the thought of my bedsheets having blood on them.” You chuckled a little at the thought, but it was true. Some mornings, especially when the pain had been at its worst a few days before, your bedsheets would be away and already being washed. 

The only way you knew it was Tyler was because you’d left the bathroom sooner than he’d expected so you caught him walking back in with fresh sheets. 

“You’ve always helped me. Why?”

Tyler thought about it for a moment. He already knew why. Even before you’d joined the team, he’d kept an emergency supply kit in the van, but when you started travelling with him, he started to keep it in his truck along with your favourite snacks and drinks. 

You were one of his best friends. The amount of surprise tornadoes you’d both been caught in, just the two of you on a roadtrip…they were shocking enough to bring you both closer together. He cared about you and seeing you go through the pain you did; if there was anything he could do to help ease it, he would. 

But most of all…but most of all…

“You spent every day helping all of us. Without asking and without a second thought. Even when you’ve gone through all of this before, you’ll find a way to push through it and still show up. You deserve to be helped, too. And I’ll keep showing up and helping you, no matter how easy or great your pain is.”

Looking at Tyler, you could have cried. 

You’d had relationships in the past - romantic and platonic – and not once had someone been as caring or loving as Tyler. 

“You really mean that,” you said, not entirely sure if you were asking it as a question or saying it as a statement. But Tyler answered anyway. 

“Of course I do. Sweetheart. I love you.”

Looking at him, hearing those words fall from his lips so effortlessly, seeing that light sparkle in his eyes as he did so…you knew there was more than one meaning to his three little words. And you smiled. 

Softly, your hand graced his cheek and your thumb caressed his skin. His head turned a little, leaning into you before he finally pressed a kiss to your palm. Then, holding your wrist in a gentle grip, he turned back to you. 

It was in the unspoken silence that Tyler leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. His hand at your back pulled you closer to him as your hand that rested on his face reached around his neck and pulled him closer. 

And somewhere in the comfortable silence afterwards, you found the words you’d been dying to let out. 

“I love you, too.”

[this-resident-is-evil]

Mountain Laurel

Note: I’ve been seeing some people wishing there was more lore accurate Leon, you know the guy who is awkward with women. So… I thought which role is the best fit for him other than the hades the Greek god of the underworld himself. Hope you enjoy.

Pairing: Hades Leon S. Kennedy x Persephone fem reader

Synopsis: You are Persephone one of Zeus’s many daughters and one of the younger goddesses. Your power to grow flowers and them appearing in your hair usually matches your emotional state. Life seems bleak and difficult, until you become the new queen of the underworld.

Contains: Incestual relationships (You know how the Greek gods are), Hinting at nonconsensual intercourse (not from Leon), passionate sex, hand job (m and f receiving), vaginal penetration, praise kink, body worship, unprotected sex, breeding kink (kind of?)

Warning: Minors do not interact.

Leon made his way through the marble building. The ancient Greek gods have accumulated amongst the humans for a long time now and seemed to be respected by the mortals. He stood in front the chambers where he would usually find his brother cheating on his wife with mortal sex workers.

He always felt awkward walking in on him and desperately tried to convince his brother to meet him dressed for once. But he was no king of Olympus and had no place ordering his brother around. Zeus was a stubborn fellow after all.

He knocks on the door hoping that the naked bodies of women wouldn’t greet him the moment he opened the door or was allowed the entrance.

“Come in.” A deep rumbling voice was heard from the other side of the large door and he opened it.

Of course, Zeus was sprawled in the middle of a large bed, his back against the headboard. Four women were tucked into his large frame luckily covered but considering the importance of the meeting he assumed Zeus would kick them out.

“Hades. We were meeting today?” Zeus chuckles.

“It’s Leon, brother.” He speaks up.

“You are not insisting on still keeping your alias?” Zeus mocked with a belly rumbling laugh. “Fine, fine, Leon…” He sighs. “What do you need?”

Leon swallowed a lump forming in his throat. He felt odd talking about this very topic in front of women he has never seen, who were also most defiantly naked beneath the silk sheets.

“I need a wife. The underworld is getting tedious to rule on my own.” He spoke up and Zeus’s expression shifts to a more serious one.

“You are free to go.” He spoke to the women.

While three of them tried to coax him into letting them stay a bit longer or praising his performance there was one that caught Leon’s eye. A woman who was quick to leave the bed and attempted to appear small and insignificant.

It was you. Bare as the day you were born rushing to find clothing to cover your bare body with and you were gone. He noticed your hair filled with Mountain Laurel’s a poisonous flower one even dropped at Leon’s feet as you were making record time in leaving the room.

He bent down to pick it up and take a better look at the flower. The mostly white petals with hints of pink felt soft to the touch. He wasn’t big on flowers but this one caught his attention when Demiter was yapping away about her daughter’s capabilities.

Luckily the said flower distracted him from accidentally making eye contact with the naked women leaving Zeus’s bed.

“So, a wife.” Zeus spoke up the moment the door closed behind the women. He stood up in all his naked glory pulling a silk robe over his shoulders. “You have anyone in mind?”

Leon pocketed the flower as he turned his attention towards his brother. “What about the young lady who left first?”

Zeus’s thick brows furrow at the mention. “Persephone?” He questions and Leon nods. “Brother, you can’t be serious.” He mocked.

“I’m serious.” Leon spoke firmly.

“She is used goods. I will find you a virgin goddess.” He waved it off.

“I’d prefer not to wed a virgin goddess.” Leon spoke up firmly.

Zeus chuckled. “What does it matter? It is not as if you can bear a child.”

This struck a nerve with the king of the underworld. He straightened his posture stating that he was firm in his request. Zeus’s look softened at the sight of his brother.

“Very well then.” He spoke in the end. “You can take her right now.”

It was disgusting. Treating her like a cow someone could just take away and not caring in the slightest. Persephone was his daughter… but this was Zeus. A man with too many children to count both gods and goddesses as well as half mortals. He had a different women warm his bed while his lovely wife was busy organizing banquets and family gatherings.

Zeus gave Leon a general direction where to go to speak to Persephone and he was quick on his feet to formally and officially meet his new wife. It felt wrong to him to just come up to her bedroom and say ‘hi there pack your stuff you are marrying me’. But how else could he put it? He struggled with many different approaches until he finally made it to her door.

A soft knock and a short wait later there you stood. Leon was smitten. All his speeches and offerings evaporating from his mind the moment his eyes landed on you. You looked tired and even broken most likely from all the hardships Zeus put you through.

“Can I help you?” You spoke up breaking Leon’s trance making him blink rapidly.

“I um… How do I put it…” He stumbles through his words your kind eyes making his mind run blank. “Are you alright?” Is the first thing that leaves his mouth after a longer pause.

This question caught you off guard. Before you, stood the Hades, the god of the dead and the king of the underworld and he was checking in if you were, okay?

“Yeah…” You lie through your teeth as you tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear and another Mountain Laurel drops from your locks onto the ground.

“Please don’t lie.” He speaks and your eyes widen. Was he really the scary god you have heard rumors about?

You bite down on your lower lip and sigh. “No. I’m not.” You speak your voice breaking in the moment.

“Do you want to get out of here?” He almost stammers through the question but manages to keep his voice and tone even.

“I’m sorry, what?” You question.

“Do you want to get away from him? He won’t touch you again, you will stay in a safe place, far, far away from here.” He began explaining.

Your expression is taken over by shock and you were wary of his offer. He could just replace your current abuser and be even worse. However, there was just something about him. He was nervous, cautious and awkward as if he didn’t know how to best offer his aid to a person in clear need of some help.

“Yes.” Escapes your mouth before you think too clearly about it. Was it desperation or something else? You couldn’t tell. He was offering a lamp in the never-ending darkness, a hand to raise you from the despair and lift you to the grassy plains you always saw in paintings.

And so, it was… Leon took you to his penthouse in the mortal realm, offered you shelter from the horrible storm Zeus created and treated you with nothing but kindness and care. He was still very much odd in comparison to the other gods you have met but this was a welcomed difference.

The two weeks you rested and took time to process the horrors you went through and those two weeks were refreshing. Leon always stayed in a room of his own while allowing you to give the guest room your own touch. What else could it be but flowers you grew yourself?

Leon was curious and peaked at now your bedroom while you were in the shower. The flowers were vibrant, beautiful and very poisonous. Lantanas on the windowsill were bright red and orange making the window look as if it was painted in the sunset’s colors. Along one of the walls proudly stood the Lily of the Valley as well as several Foxgloves. They didn’t pose much harm unless consumed but what worried him was the Wisteria flowers hanging from the ceiling.

If he remembers correctly those are not harmful for humans but for animals like cats or dogs. If Cerberus the three headed hound was to eat some it would be harmful for him.

“Mr. Leon.” You squeak the moment you saw him in your bedroom.

“Just Leon is fine…” He speaks up now feeling the anxiety forming in the pit of his stomach. “I just wanted to see the flowers…” He adds.

“Okay…” You speak awkwardly. “I’m not letting Cerberus in there. Wisteria could be harmful if he was to eat some.” You add and a hint of a smile appears in the corner of his lips.

“Thank you.”

You nod holding onto a damp towel you usually placed on a radiator in your bedroom. Just then the pitter patter of claws against the hardwood floors turns your attention to the three headed dog that stared into your soul.

He was quick to tuck one of his heads into your side practically demanding that you pet all three of his heads. “He took a liking to you.” Leon speaks up.

“Yes, I suppose he did.” You say as you lower your free hand to pet Cerberus on one of his heads.

“You two will protect the house then.” He spoke. “I have a meeting I must attend tonight… hopefully it won’t take too long.”

You took a better look at him noticing he wore a perfectly tailored suit with a Mountain Laurel tucked into the breast pocket of his suit jacket. It looked as if it was on the verge of wilting away.

You picked one of the smaller lilies now growing among your locks and replace the sad flower with a fresher one. His blue eyes stare into your own at the gesture and he gives you a nod of approval before leaving the pent house.

Left to your own devices you made your way to a bookshelf standing in the living room. Among the old classics and newer works, you run your fingers along the spines. Recently you finished reading The Count of Monte Cristo and now it was time to occupy your time with something else.

Your finger lands on the spine that read The Frankenstein... intrigued you pick it up and open it. What you found inside were newspapers neatly bent and placed between the pages. You take the paper and unfold it to find the flowers that grew in your hair from the moment the two of you met. The Lilly, the Water Hemlock, The Oleander and of course the Mountain Laurel. The very same he picked from the ground as you rushed out of Zeus’s chambers.

He pressed to preserve the flowers growing in your hair. Commemorating the stages of healing you passed in the last two weeks. Your heart warms as you put everything back in place. From that day onwards every time Leon had to leave the pent house you tucked a fresh flower into his breast pocket. Calendulas, Dahlias, Cornflowers, Pansies and lastly Roses.

He was kind and patient with you giving you support and care you couldn’t even dream of receiving while you still lived in the Olympus villa. He even insisted for you to pick a name of your own, one that he would call you and one that you felt comfortable having.

“(Y/N)…” He spoke up one evening tucking your attention away from a book you were reading. “I didn’t want to bring this up while you were still vulnerable and getting better but I think I should now…” He seemed nervous, hands seemed to clamp up as he rubbed them against his pants. “When we met… I came to Zeus to discuss me finding a wife.”

“Is that why you were going on meetings so often?” You question your heart feeling as if a dangerous string was tightening against the beating organ.

“Well yes… um… I asked Zeus for your hand in marriage.” He admits and your eyes widen. “I should have said something sooner and I’m deeply sorry for keeping this…”

“Why me?” The question escapes you.

He is taken aback by the question. “I’ll be frank… I have never seen a woman run for their life from Zeus and I just had to meet you. And when I did, I was…”

You await his continuation and he just can’t seem to find the right words to explain the hurricane of emotions that over took him the moment he saw you. He was enchanted with your beauty, charmed by your honesty when he kindly asked for it, knowing that I would make you vulnerable if you did speak the truth, he was angered by the pain a sweet doe such as yourself carried on her shoulders.

“I was smitten, enchanted, charmed, enamored, as if the fates have decided to bless me with such treasure. I went to those meetings to convince your mother to allow me to take you to the underworld with me. If you of course so wished. And she was a tough nut to crack.” He sighs.

Your brows furrow in confusion. How was your mother in charge of your own choices. Leon was giving you the choice to reject him and to walk away from the marriage he proposed but alas why would you? He treated you like a queen, his queen.

“She demanded that you spend spring and summer with her in the overworld. And you can stay with me in the underworld during winter and autumn.” He clarified noticing your confusion.

“How about a whole year?” You spoke up with determination laced in your tone.

Leon’s mouth opens slightly and he closes it. “You-“

“I don’t want to be controlled. I’m not a puppet. So yes, I will marry you and become your queen of the underworld.”

That was all he needed. The marriage ceremony as a whole didn’t take long and you were adorned in bridal wear as you stepped onto the Charon’s boat with Leon by your side. Demiter of course threw a fit over it all and demanded that you hold up the deal she made with Leon. Which was the whole catch. She made that deal with your now husband, not with yourself.

The boat ride was far from romantic the screaming souls of the dead pierced your ears but you didn’t mind it. This was going to be your life now and you willingly stepped onto the path that will lead you into the deepest parts of the underworld.

The house of Hades was adorned in reds, oranges and yellows it looked beautiful from old statues all the way to a deserted part in the west wing of the main hall where damned souls waited patiently in line awaiting their judgement.

Leon was quick to lift you off your feet carrying you, bridal style towards his chambers. He was practically attacked by workers under his care to get back to work but the fact that he now held and former Olympian goddess in his arms made them grow silent instantly.

“This will be our bedroom.” He spoke the moment he set you on your own two feet taking the room in.

It was spacious and adorned in memorabilia that just screamed it was his. “It looks lovely…”

“You… you can change it…” He was quick to offer. “However, nothing grows in the underworld, nothing really lives… but you could have gathered as much.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” You smile at him and he has that look in his eyes.

He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, now the flowers adorning your locks were the ones of a pomegranate. “You are…. Stunning.” He stumbles over the last word. “I just… want you to feel comfortable… and I know there are expectations… to… consummate the marriage but… there is really no need for it. I… do not expect you to…”

“I want to.” You interrupt his speech and you swore you could see a hint of a blush paint his cheeks.

All of your experiences thus far were unpleasant to say the least. You just needed something much nicer to replace the horrors that made Mountain Laurels begin growing among your locks.

“Okay…” He clears his throat. “Um… if you wish to stop at any moment just say so I will stop.” He clarifies as he steps forward his wedding robes perfectly framing his well-built body making you swallow a lump forming in your throat.

He was careful slowly moving his hand to hold your chin and guiding your head to look up at him. Already you had a feeling this will go differently than when you were violated by your own father.

Leon leaned in closer pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. Zeus would never, he would grab you by the throat and basically suck all of the air out of your body with his lips. Leon was so calm, so slow… his other hand moving to gently trace his fingers up your arms and down.

He took hold of your forearm guiding your hand to press it against his chest. He craved your touch. You took his movement as a sign to lift up your other hand placing it on the side of his neck.

The slow and gentle movement of lips began turning a bit more passionate and before you knew it you were pressed against his chest kissing him to the best of your ability. Your arms wrapping around his neck.

Leon lifted you off your feet carrying you to the lavish bed. His lips not moving once from yours as he laid you down on top of it. “You are beautiful.” He speaks his voice turning huskier.

The warmth you felt in your cheeks seemed to intensify as he spoke those sweet words. Your hair was spread against the pillow the petals falling all over the sheets and the floor. It made you feel vulnerable and somewhat uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong?” He questions the moment he noticed the shift in your expression.

“I- I don’t know…” You stutter.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“N-no… I…” You sigh your brows furrowing.

Leon stills as he looks at you from above… there was a worried look pooling in his eyes. You could see the cogs turn in his head as he was thinking of a way to make you more comfortable. His blue irises were unfocused and until he looked straight into your eyes with determination.

“How about this…” He speaks as he picks you off the bed and switches places with you. He was now sat on the bed against the headboard and he sat you so you would straddle his lap. “You are the one in control…” He offers and your brows furrow in confusion. “Use my body to make yourself feel good.”

“I can’t do that.” You counter.

“I… want you to. I want you to feel pleasure… and if I can make it more comfortable for your I will…” Your heart warms at his reassurance. “So… use me…” He speaks; his tone was slightly unsure but his eyes were filled with determination.

You were sure you can do this. This man was your husband, kind, thoughtful and desperate to make you comfortable as well as make you feel as safe as he possibly could. So, you reach for his hands and place them on your hips.

You then move your hands to his robes pushing them off his body. His chest was full of battle scars. Some of them mere scratches but some deep and gnarly looking gashes. Your hand traces the scarred flesh and he shivers under your touch.

“They must have hurt…” You speak; your mind enveloped in a trance like state.

“Yours too…” He pulls on your clothing revealing some of the marks you had.

“They are not nearly as bad as yours.” You counter him and he chuckles.

His hand moves a strand of your hair behind your ear and cups your face. “Every scar has a story… we don’t need to compare them to acknowledge the fact that we felt pain.”

You lean in closer to him to place another kiss on his lips. This one was far shorter than when he kissed you and you think of what you wanted him to do. “Undress me.” You order.

His hands move up to push your wedding garments off your shoulders and you notice a slight tremor in his hands. He was nervous, nervous to be intimate with someone, nervous that he will hurt you, even if it was unintentional he would never forgive himself for harming you.

“I… don’t…” You sigh… you couldn’t pick where to start, what to do… how are you supposed to know what you wanted when you were never asked… or were never allowed to express.

“I want to kiss every inch of your skin…” He announces… his cheeks turning a shade darker. “Can… can I?”

A nod of your head and he leans in closer pressing a gentle kiss on your lips then moving lower. The feeling of his lips against your neck made you shiver. You held onto his bare shoulders for support as his lips began moving over your collarbone then over your shoulders.

“Can I go lower?” He asks and you hum in approval. He pushed more of the fabric to the side exposing your bare breasts to the slight chill in the air.

He pressed his lips over your breasts and took one of your nipples into his mouth. Your thighs clench against his from the sensation and your grip on his shoulders grows stronger. Before you knew it his mouth was on the other breast making small whimpers of pleasure escape your lips.

“Me… too…” You sigh… “I want to kiss you too...”

Leon leans back against the headboard giving you access to his chest. You leaned closer placing feather light kiss against his neck. He noticeably shivers and you feel a bulge forming beneath you. You look down and you know what is hiding beneath the fabric of his wedding garments.

“It’s…” He stumbles in his attempt to ease your mind but the moment you placed your hand over it his flinches almost choking on his saliva. Wide blue eyes make contact with yours. Your hand moves up and down along the length.

He was half Zeus’s size in length, about half a foot if you had to be specific, but what he was lacking in length or better yet not lacking considering the monstrosity Zeus carried beneath the thin fabrics Leon made up in grith. It was intimidating, the sheer thickness of it all.

“You don’t… have to…” Leon sighs at your movement, his shoulders were turning blush red as well as his cheeks.

“I want to.” You spoke.

“I want to make you feel good too.” Leon sighs as one of his hands moves up your thigh closer to your center.

“You can…”

His hand moves between your legs, his middle finger running along your slit. “You actually want this…” He spoke… it was as if it surprised him that he could feel your arousal.

You nod confirming… of course you wanted it. You were just scared. That it will be the same as it was before. But no matter what you trusted Leon. Your now husband. Your now king…

His fingers moved more entering your most sensitive place. You moaned as he pumped them inside you. First one, then two… then three… it didn’t hurt unlike when you felt this before and you pant against him. Your forehead leaned against his for support as your breaths mix in between.

Your hand began moving more confidently every stroke deliberate as the two of you pleasure each other. Leon swore under his breath several times and sooner rather than later the movements of your hands were in sync.

“I want to feel you… around me…” Leon spoke up an embarrassed tone hiding beneath the husky desire.

“Me too…” You pant.

“You are in charge.” He reminds you as he removes the fabric covering his length. The angry red tip stood proudly somehow; he looked even thicker than when you could barely wrap your hands around him earlier. Every vein that snaked around his length looked to be deliberate as if his whole purpose as a god was to give pleasure.

But alas he was the god of the dead and not love or sex. Not that it mattered. He helped you line up your hips with his length and was there to help you keep your balance. “Easy… at your own pace.” He reminds you.

You slowly lower your hips and feel the tip entering you. “That… is a lot…” You point out and he holds back a chuckle.

You move lower and get to about half way before you have to pause. The stretch was a different sensation that you didn’t expect to feel tonight. It wasn’t bad just… different. Leon patiently waits for you to adjust and the moment you took him in completely he bottoms out with a throaty moan.

“Fuck…” He groans. “(Y/N)….”

You let out a noise that was a mix between a hum and a whine as you attempted to get used to the thick length inside you.

“You… feel… so… fucking… good.” He pants between each word.

His praises and cloudy eyes make you want to see more of it. What expression he will make if you began moving? What if you moved faster? What if you were in a different position? The possibilities seemed to be endless, and you just had to see all of it…

You move your hips up and down and he forces his hands to grip the sheets, he wanted to touch you oh so desperately but there was that fear. You seemed to be so frail, what if he put too much pressure on your body?

“Leon…” You moan his name desperation hidden beneath the surface of your tone. “Touch me, please.” You plead.

And how is he supposed to say no? His hands move to your hips aiding you in your movements and leaning forward to silence his moans as much as he possibly could by kissing your breasts.

The sound of skin slapping against skin feels the room together with needy moans and pants, you swore the room got so much warmer than when you entered it earlier. It didn’t take long for a strange feeling develop in your stomach.

“Leon… I… feel weird…” You stumble to finish the sentence.

“It’s okay… let it go…” Taking his advice you relax and a sensation of pure ecstasy takes over your whole body. “That’s it… come on your throne…” Leon smiles against your skin. The pure huskiness in his voice makes you shiver. “You, okay?”

Your eyes were clouded with lust and desire. The pleasure was all too much for you to speak in the moment so you nod to answer his question.

Leon flips the two of you so you were laying on your back his length barely moving inside you as he held most of his weight on his arms. “Let me do all the work.” The blush on his cheeks was far darker than when you began consummating your marriage.

His hips begin moving in a slow and steady rhythm making you unravel under his touch. Panting and moaning his name you grab a hold of his shoulders to ground yourself. When his hips begin to move in a more rapid pace your nails dig into his skin and he groans. Each time he moves it feels as if he is reaching deeper into your core.

“L-Leon…” You stutter through the moans.

“You are doing so well… my queen…” He moans into your ear making you shiver yet again. Not even the gods know how many times goosebumps formed on your skin from his voice alone.

You can feel each vein and the moment he is about to reach his peak somehow you could tell he was about to feel the same overwhelming pleasure you felt while you were nested in his lap.

“I wish…” Thrust… “I could…” Thrust… “Give…” Thrust… “You…” Thrust… “A child…” He speaks absentmindedly. “Please come with me…” He begs.

Leon uses one of his arms to rub your clit and it takes seconds to get you to the same state he was in. You mumble under your breath and the both of you reach the climax. You spasming around his length and he deep inside you.

He pants as he leans his forehead against yours. He stayed like that for several minutes before his mind cleared and he picked you up taking you to a bath to clean you up. His bare feet walking over the lose petals that escaped your hair.

 The warm water relaxed your tense muscles as he joined you in the bath seating himself behind you and rubbing a wash cloth over your skin…

“Can I ask you something?” You turn your head to the side so your profile is facing him and you can catch a glimpse of his stunning blue eyes from your peripheral vision.

“Anything…” He speaks as he kisses your shoulder.

“You said you wished you could give me a child… does that mean you can’t?”

He tenses at your question. “No, I cannot.”

“Why?” You lean back against his chest.

He clears his throat. “Nothing grows in the underworld… and since I’m the king I cannot bear children by any means… now unfortunately… the only thing that seem to grow down here is the flowers in your hair…” He explains with a sigh as he reaches for the pomegranate flower that fell from your hair and was now floating in the soapy water…

The revelation saddened you but it still wouldn’t make you change your mind on the decision you have made when you married him. You were now his queen and you wouldn’t dare to break his heart by leaving him especially after all that he had done for you.

It turns out that the abandoned and ghostly west part of the house of Hades was a garden with tainted soil. You spent your alone time in there and on one particular day you buried some flowers into the soil.

Many days later you revisited the garden and there it was a single sprout peaking from the soil. Your hand automatically reaches for your stomach… perhaps… it was not so impossible to grow in the land of the dead.  

[lolitalovess]

Legs Open, Hearts Broken.

sum: hockey player vi x reader.

warnings: smut, oral sex, fingering, big o, vi is kind of a dick, vi is stressed tf out, vi and reader are kind of sick of eachother, this is not proofread, i really struggled writing this so if some parts esp the start are sloppy that's why, the start is really bad but it gets better, reader has a brother in this, idk why, lowkey brothers best friend trope, that's it

you know violet lane has always been a player - both literally and romantically. you can't blame all the girls on campus for eyeing at her everytime they catch a glimpse of her in the hallways or when she's playing a game with the whole school watching, not with the way her face is the most gorgeous one your eyes have ever had the privilege of looking at. you met her when your brother, who's one of her teammates introduced her to you. and jesus christ you're grateful for it.

she's stressed and has had one of the worst fucking days shes ever had and all she wants is to go to her dorm and text you to ask you to come over, not to ask you to get her shit for her because she fucking forgot it for practise. it's not like she'd want anyone else to go into her room when she's not there - you've been there at ungodly hours enough times to know where it is.

you don't know why you agreed to it in the first place, maybe because she's your brothers best friend, maybe because you feel bad, maybe because she's fucked you dumb almost every night this week, but you're already walking through the halls in the direction of her room. the way has been poisoned into your head ever since her essence and sweet words grew in your mind like ivy.

you're quick with it, entering her familiar room with red bedsheets, fairy lights and posters, slinging the black duffel bag over your shoulder and heading to the indoor arena across the campus. it's a nice one that's not that far, not when you're texting both her and your brother at the same time to tell them that you're coming and you understand that their coach is pissed at her.

"hey, i have your shit." you call out, walking toward the pink haired girl who's sitting on one of the front benches, her eyes watching the practise game in front of her. you hear the metal she's sitting on creak when you move the heavy bag off your shoulder and place it next to her. it's another hour and thirty minutes later after she convinced you to stay and watch. you knew you had better things but it's not even like you could have said no, not with the way she was looking into your eyes and asking so nicely, and it was the same when she asked if she could come over after.

"you look so pretty." your murmur on her clit. your eyes are trained on her face and your back is sore from the curled up position you're laying in on the end of your bed, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

she sighs out as her first response to your praise - the four words she's been called and has called countless of times coming and going from other girls during situations exactly like this, though the way your breath blowed on her clit had her fighting the urge to arch her back. "jesus, sweetheart. fucks wrong with you?"

you don't mind her words, you're clever enough to know that they don't have any bite in them whatsoever. it's not like you're teasing her, you're just sucking and licking at her clit like it's gonna take all her stress about nationals away and cater all her thoughts to you.

you pull away ever so slightly, your lips detatching from her with a tiny little pop. her clits swollen and puffy from how you've been sucking and flicking your tounge on it like how you do with her bottom lip, and she's got an insane amount of her arousal practically fucking dripping down her pussy.

you tilt your head to the side so your cheek is resting plush against one of her muscular thighs, your action causing them to spread even more. you're sure it's one of the hottest things you've seen her do. "are you okay? you seem really stressed." you begin, moving the hand on her other thigh to mindlessly rub her clit in slow circles, earning a moan from her.

"i'm- fuck. i'm not. it's just nationals. they're coming up in like, a month or whatever." she said through sighs and little moans, your touch on her clit is frustratingly not enough and she wants to scream at you for it, and holyfuck you're fingering her.

you push yourself to sit up on your knees, your hand reaching to grasp onto her shoulder to crawl ontop of her, your other hand still busy with slowly pumping your two fingers in and out of her. you remind her of a python at times, crawling ontop of her like you want to take her entire body and soul for yourself, like you couldn't bear the thought of someone else doing so.

you move the hand on her shoulder to hold her jaw, fighting back the urge the smile when she reaches her head up to kiss you, almost in a needy way. it's not like you pull away to tease her though, instead you're swallowing her moans and whimpers like you're getting paid to do it when your lips and tongue move in sync.

"you'll be fine, vi." you reply, kissing the corner of her mouth and beginning to trail them to her cheek and jaw, despite her whimpers of protest. "yeah, it's just... a big thing." she muttered, her hands coming up to hold your wasit when she feels you speeding up the pace of your fingers. her pussy is squelching and taking it with greed and not a care in the world - grateful for the attention you're giving it after what feels like you edged her for hours, even if it was only for 30 minutes.

her moans filling your room signify in sound when you curl your fingers so far into her pussy she's squeezing her eyes shut and arching her back off your mattress just barely enough for your tummies to touch. she's always pornographicly loud when she cums, and this time its no difference whatsoever when she's absolutely soaking your fingers without a single shame in the world like it's her job.

her eyes shoot open when she feels your body on top of her begin to move back down the bed and into the position you were in on the end of the bed after she just began to calm down, quickly propping herself up on your pillow with her elbow to look down at you. "you don't- uh, have to." she spoke as soon as she feels your palm on her inner thigh, spreading them apart. "i'm just gonna clean you up." you reply, resting your cheek on her other thigh like before. it's grown into a habit with how often you rest your face on her thighs like they're pillows, which they are.

"i've gotta study. for the history test tomorrow." she protests, almost weakly. her eyes are blown wide, powder blue looking into you with a mix of both anticipation and hesitance - you can't chose the dominant one, not with how the corner of your lips curl up into a small smile at you huff of laughter. "you never study for tests." you reply, kissing her inner thigh before ultimately sitting up and laying next to her, head turned to see her face.

"you've just never seen me study." she spoke with a sigh, sitting up from the mattress just as you settled, her eyes searching for her previously forgotten pants and boxers on the floor. "you just never seemed like the type to." was your reply, your eyes fixated on her ass when she leans over to reach for her socks - the spiderman ones that go with her boxers, and both are on her body faster than you'd like.

"hey, we should study together." you tease, which earns a "fuck you" when she's walking out your door and flipping you off, her duffel bag slung over her shoulder.

hi!! genuinely sorry this is ass especially to the people that have been waiting for this. i honestly didn't really enjoy writing this so i think that's why?? the girlfriend version of this will hopefully be out tomorrow because i actually do have a history test to study for 😭 not sure if i'm gonna make this a series. i don't like how i made this look. pls help

[starneteyam]

CRY ★

🖇️ char. Neteyam x Omaticayan! Fem! Reader

🖇️ warn. None, but Neteyam’s a little mean :(

🎥 Neteyam makes you cry during a fight, and instantly regrets it. That’s it. That’s the whole story.

A/N He comes off a little manipulative in this but TRUST he’s not

𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐘𝐀𝐌 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

FIGHTS WITH NETEYAM were rare. They barely happened. Since the day you had met him, you a were convinced that you were joined together by Eywa. Truly, you believed that in your soul.

He understood what you were thinking without you having to voice it, and there were strange moments where you would have whole conversations just through the eyes. It was like your hearts were synced to one another’s.

And because of this, fights were rare. But still, there were days when mild annoyance turned into anger, and anger turned into words that were said with the intent to harm.

Today was one of those days.

Neteyam had already been having a bad day. Ao’nung had been spewing subtle mean comments towards him and his siblings, he had gotten thrown off his Ilu three times now, and Loak had gotten himself into trouble again, which meant that Neteyam would also get a lecture from Jake as well.

His body was buzzing with irritation, tail accidentally knocking things over in the hut. You had followed after him, knowing that your duty as his mate was to stay by his side at times of hardship.

Neteyam was crouched down, elbows on his knees and head hanging low. You frowned, your heart squeezing and wishing you could take this irritation and make it disappear for him.

“Ma Neteyam.” You softly sighed, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder from behind. You hadn’t expected him to abruptly get up, turning and looking at your with eyes of fury. “What, (Name)? What? What now?” He huffed, the wounds of the words of his father still fresh.

You felt as if you had stepped on a land mine, standing still as you looked at him with wide eyes. Your ears were flat against your head, surprised at his anger, at first. But that surprise quickly morphed into annoyance. He was not about to direct his anger towards you.

“I’ve heard it a hundred times. ‘You should listen to your father more’, ‘Lo’ak is just not mature yet’.” He mocked, causing your brows to furrow. “I was just trying to help, Neteyam.” You huffed, frowning. He scoffed, tail flinging wildly.

“And how were you going to do that? Tell me. Go on.” His arms were crossed across his chest, and he shifted his weight onto one leg. You opened your mouth, but the words were stuck onto your tongue like honey. Your mind was in a maze, not sure what he was so mad at anymore.

Was he mad at you? For what?

“Tell me!” He repeated, raising his voice this time. A small gasp left your mouth. He had never yelled at you before. The anger and annoyance that was frying inside of you disappeared and hurt filled that new void.

“You always take my father’s side, and always defend my brother! You don’t even care about how I feel!” His breaths were rough and heavy, obviously distressed. But still, his words were like knives. ‘That’s not true’, you wanted to say, but your words were stuck in your throat in the form of a lump.

“Ma Netey-”

“I don’t want to hear it!” He cut you off, and you found your eyes watering. He was… he was just mad and frustrated. He didn’t mean these things. Deep down, in your heart, you knew that. And still, your mind didn’t know it. The words were oddly confronting, like a chisel that was breaking away the rock around your insecurities that you had buried inside.

You could see the words on the tip of his tongue, and you prayed to Eywa that he wouldn’t say it. Even if he didn’t mean it, you didn’t want him to say it. But Neteyam’s mind was clouded with rage and deep frustration, that the words he hadn’t meant slipped out.

“You are not fit to be my mate.”

The words were like the edges of shattered glass pricking your skin, your chest hurting from the pain of the words. You stepped back, as if it had physically hurt you. A sob had left your mouth, and a hand flew up to cover it.

It was then that the cloud of red finally faded. The sob was like a slap to his face, and he hadn’t realized what he said until it was too late. Your cheeks were wet, and you couldn’t stand looking at him.

You covered your face with both hands, muffling your sobs into your palms.

Neteyam’s shoulders lowered, and his mouth parted open, like he couldn’t believe he had said what he had said. “No, I- I did not mean that.” He breathed slowly, but when you hadn’t moved, when you hadn’t stopped crying, he felt more desperate.

“I’m sorry. Oh, Ma (Name), I’m sorry. Please, forgive me.” He stepped forward, immediately cradling your face in his hands. Your hands lowered to his wrists, to try to pull them away, but when his thumbs started swiping at your tears, you couldn’t find the strength to push him away.

You damned your heart for being so in love with him, for needing his comfort despite the fact that he was the one who made you this way. “I see you, Ma (Name). And- And I will spend the rest of my life proving that you are more than worthy to be my mate.” He huffed, and you could hear the desperation in his voice.

“I don’t deserve you, and Eywa knows that. Please, forgive me, (Name). I did not mean it. I was just- I was just mad and frustrated and- And it does not make it okay but please know I did not- I would never-” He rambled, stumbling over his words.

Your crying had calmed down, only occasional sniffles and stray tears falling, but your eyes were still closed, finding comfort in the darkness.

“Please, look at me.” He begged, whispering the words like a prayer to Eywa. Your eyes fluttered open, hesitating to look into his eyes, but when you finally met them, you could see that the words hurt him more than they hurt you.

He hated himself for saying it, and you could feel it in the way he held your face like it was the most delicate flower. You could see it, in the way his eyes searched your expression for any hint of what you might’ve been thinking.

His shoulders relaxed in just the slightest when your eyes met his. He placed a soft kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek, and then finally, pressed a deep, loving one to your lips. It was soft and held meaning.

When he pulled away, he placed his forehead on yours, an intimate and deep gesture of an apology, one that was rare and not often done unless you were begging for forgiveness, not only from the person you were apologizing to, but from Eywa herself.

“Neteyam.” You finally spoke, voice hoarse and quiet. Your hands took his that were on yours face, bring them down and holding them. “You better keep your word. About spending the rest of your life proving that what you said- That it was a lie.” Your eyes averted to the side, just thinking about the words clenching your heart.

There was a silent sigh of relief from your mate, hands holding yours tightly as if you would slip away if he didn’t. “I promise, Ma (Name). I see you.” He whispered the last part, closing his eyes and placing his forehead against yours once more.

You closed your eyes, accepting his apology by pressing back. “I see you.”

[abysful]

Tread carefully

Contains: Plot, Friends to Fuck buddies, Mentions of Masturbation, Smut (not-so-dry humping, blow job, p in v)

Summary: You love summer more than most, yet swimming has never been your strong suit beyond a survival doggy paddle. But one quiet summer night, your friend Chris teaches you a few tricks, in and out of the water.

Word count: 5k

There was nothing that riled you up more than when your three best friends claimed to “hate” summer. You reminded them time and time again how amazing it was to be surrounded by bright green grass and beautiful flowers, and how all it takes when you feel the heat bundle you up a bit too tight, is a carefree dip in a cooling chlorine filled pool. The complaints of how sticky and humid the air gets during summer seem to quiet down to silence when summer finally arrives and everyone’s skin is sun kissed and warm, when music and laughter accompanies a bonfire, and when all of your friends are happier and lighter.

“T’s sweaty and fucking gross” Nick starts, reminded of his hatred for the season when a headline of summers first day being a week away, pops up on his Instagram feed.

You look at Matt and Chris waiting for either of them to swoop in and defend your favourite time of year but you quickly realize you’re on your own.

“Let’s not get disrespectful” you play around, trying to stop yourself from getting in a unserious but low-key serious debate with Nick.

Nick looks at you unamused “I literally don’t fucking believe you when you say summers your favourite season… you aren’t even from LA. There’s mosquitoes and allergies and fucking sunburn.” he exclaims.

The friendly banter goes on through the night, regardless of the activity, only stopping when you’re all asleep on their couches after an evening filled with jokes, games, and stupid stories.

At some odd hour in the night, the dry cotton-mouth that left the walls of your mouth feeling like sandpaper, had rudely yanked you from your disorganized and frankly confusing dreams.

There was no possibility that you were going to ignore the now hydrophobic texture taking place within your jaws, the only option was to get up as silently as possible and find something to remedy your dehydration.

In hopes you wouldn’t disturb your peacefully sleeping friends, you sink into the couch as you lay straight, slowly rolling off of the cushion to the floor, using all of your arm strength to softly lower yourself without making a sound.

As you stand, you look over the dormant bodies of the people you care most about, wondering what they’re seeing in their dreams, some on the couch, others on air-mattresses that were in place of the coffee table.

Though the sweet admiration quickly turns into a headcount, you see Madi, Nick, Matt, Madison, but no Chris.

Your mind can barely process your consciousness, so Chris’ whereabouts slip out from your thoughts almost immediately when you regain awareness of the dryness coursing your throat and tongue.

Pivoting on your heels, you B-line for the kitchen, so eager to drink just one glass of water, the ability to stay quiet threatens to disappear. Once the glass is in your grasp, and the slippery condensation cools your clammy palms, you begin to guzzle the liquid in your cup, letting out loud breaths between each gulp.

Feet standing a foot and a half from the sink, you bend over to rest your elbows on the countertop, your body at a near 90 degree angle.

You don’t even hear the sound of a toilet flushing or a door opening, nor did you hear any footsteps approaching, the feeling of the water reviving every vein and artery was clouding your thinking.

Chris walked into the kitchen from the bathroom, heading for the sink to get a drink. His eyes had just been exposed to the bright florescent lights of the washroom just a moment ago so when he flicked the switch off, his eyes were able to see virtually nothing.

Touching and feeling around him, once he understood where the table and cabinets were located in relation to him, he no longer felt the need to extend his arms for guidance.

That was until he was a few steps from the sink. Chris’ walking is abruptly interrupted when his clothed groin slams against your ass as you’re leaning on your forearms, hovering over the basin.

“Shit” he whisper yelled, completely oblivious to who it was he rammed into.

Instinctively he reached out again to feel who was in front of him, it all happened so fast, his hands finding your hips in search of anything identifiable in the blinding darkness.

“Woah” you yelped, now turning as fast as your body physically allowed you to.

Your familiar voice telling Chris all he needed to know, he pulled his grip back as if he’d just touched a scalding hot stovetop.

“Sorry sorry sorry” he slewed out rapidly, his voice now quiet but above a whisper.

“Ts fine, my fault for not paying attention” you apologized soon after, out of curtesy more than honesty.

A thought paralyzing silence blanketed the both of you, embarrassment being the only feeling in the kitchen that now felt 2 feet wide.

“Thirsty?” Chris whispers, very obviously trying to move on and not have that be the last thing that you two remember before going back to sleep.

Your body flinches slightly when you remember you aren’t completely alone in your thoughts.

“A little” You turn your head to meet Chris’ gaze, being in the solid dark long enough for your eyes to adjust, you can probably see Chris better than he can see you.

His shorts are hanging slightly too low, the fault of him trying to ‘keep his tired’ and haphazardly throwing on his bottoms before rushing out of the bathroom just a few moments ago.

Chris had a charm about him that made you find him more attractive than most of the men in your life but you didn’t spend any time figuring out what that even meant to you, so of course you assumed the pulse in your head, heart, and heat that came about whenever he was around, was nothing.

Yet in the dark, having a chance to take a good look at a barely clothed Chris without him being able to tell where your gaze fell, you used the opportunity as any person would, you checked him the fuck out.

Your eyes started at his V-line but his happy trail caught your attention not long after. You could tell by the way it was growing that he had been shaving around it to keep it shaped nice, not overgrown, but still visible. ‘Sort of like a landing strip’ your inner monologue narrated in your head, making you break into a smile that only you knew about.

With every breath inwards he took, all of him moved with it. The room was still too dark to be able to identify much else so you decided to cut your semi pervy staring session short, the places that your mind was going needed to be knocked unconscious.

“I need to hurry up and lay down before I fully wake up” you smiled at Chris, though he definitely couldn’t see well enough to tell. He let out a hum of agreement as you let your tired legs guide you to the large comfy couch.

Ever so quietly, you ascend back into the small indent your body left on the pillowy cushion. Comfort washed over you as your body felt as if it was melting and becoming one with the cloud of a sofa that was underneath you, you didn’t even get to the number four when counting yourself to sleep.

That night was weeks ago, between then and now, things were predominately business as usual except for two things, one slightly more concerning than the other.

On the brighter side, summer was here, your skin was glowier than ever, the skies had never been clearer, and every feeling seemed more intense.

But the time between the mishap and now— it seemed that every single night that you were unable to sleep, like a movie, you replayed the view of Chris that night, over and over in your head.

One night in particular you were engaging in sexual self care, and as much as you fought it with every neuron and vessel in your brain— the only image that got you to cum was that of Chris’ slender figure looming over you in the dark kitchen in the earlier hours before dawn.

Between their meetings and your job, none of you had the chance to spend a full day enjoying the heat of your beloved season quite yet.

“Y/n idc what you gotta do but we’re going swimming tomorrow” Nick texted you out of nowhere, it was 7pm and you were winding down from yet another busy day of working, going to the gym, and just the general tasks of everyday life.

“I’m there” you typed back with one hand while the other stirred your vodka pasta simmering on the stove.

That night your mind struggled to sleep once more, it seemed that only when you needed to rest the most, your bed morphed into a lumpy boulder keeping you from the level of comfort you needed for tomorrow to come quickly.

Thoughts about spending the day with the triplets, spending the day with Chris, more so, getting to see shirtless Chris in broad daylight this time, were wading through your mind. Over an hour of tossing and turning later, you drifted off to dreamland.

Your plans started later than discussed which was nothing but normal for your group of friends, everyone woke up late, got dressed late, and found their way to Madison’s LA home 3 hours late, by the grace of god you all showed up around the same time.

What was once a 1pm hang out, began at 4pm. First going to get ice cream, Madi and Matt got regular flavours while Nick and Chris purchased odd but reasonable mixes. You and Madison on the other hand, decided to get the most nonsensical and unappetizing combinations of ice creams.

“Get that fuckass cup out of my face” Nick retorted to you after you offered him a bite of your Frankenstein fro yo, to which you all belly laughed.

Then thrifting, it seemed Matt had the sharpest eye for that sort of thing, while the rest of you dicked around, mocking the freaky antiques you found, eventually leaving empty handed.

Finally, you were all in Madison’s pool an hour before sun down. There wasn’t much time for staring, Chris went from clothed to wearing nothing but swim trunks and submerged in water within half of a second.

The missed opportunity to bask in his sex appeal didn’t bother you too much, their was a level of guilt that was paired with each dirty thought you had of Chris which you weren’t opposed to not having to experience on your first proper hang out of the summer.

Last summer when you first met everyone, your choice of swimwear was one pieces and basketball shorts— a result of unjustified self critical thoughts, but the year in between was spent building up your self esteem and getting comfortable with letting yourself feel sexy. Now your choice of swimwear was more scantly clad, a black twisted bandeau top that’s half a size too small and tie-side bottoms.

The first 30 minutes in the pool, everyone played chicken fight, taking turns on shoulders— around 20 minutes til sundown, Nick and Madi volunteered to leave the pool to order food and chill in the hammocks. After their departure, lighthearted conversation flowed seamlessly between the four of you, that was until Matt poked fun at you about your swimming.

“Can you do literally anything other than a doggy paddle?” He teased, your face started to feel hot, remembering talks of the triplets laughing about their mom being an adult and not knowing how to swim.

“Matt shut up, she can swim” Chris chimes in, seemingly not to defend you but instead, actually in denial that you lacked the ability keep yourself afloat.

“No seriously, have you seen her leave the shallow end” he points out, his words phrased in a way to make you feel like he’s joking with you not at you, which made you a lot less embarrassed about the whole thing.

“She can swim a bit Matt” Madison inserts, her words prompt you to slowly glide through the water to the deep end.

The issue was never with getting somewhere in the water, it was staying above surface level. Once you reached the other side of her pool, you turned right back around and started swimming to your self assigned place in the shallow end.

“See? I swam” you snapped back playfully, jetting your gaze to Matt. A smile creeps onto your face before you mumble incoherently under your breath for comedic effect.

“What?” Chris prods with a smirk.

“I just can’t keep my head over the water if I’m not moving” you sheepishly confess.

“Y’mean tread water kid?” He asks, sounding unconvinced.

“Mhm” you nod, ironically standing in the kiddie end feeling like a 12 year old.

“D’you need me to teach you?” his words now laced with hints of genuine concern that you’ve gone this long without acquiring such an important skill.

You shrug “You couldn’t teach a dog to bark but I’ll let you try.” the idea of touching Chris’ slippery skin under the privacy of warped water is enough to twist your stomach.

Your mind was only just beginning to wander to unwarranted directions when Nick called out from his hammock.

“FOODS HERE”.

You expected Chris to do the ‘Chris thing’ by jumping out of the pool and running for the patio, but that wasn’t what happened. His eyes stayed planted on you, yours finding his quickly after noticing he didn’t seem to care much about his surroundings.

“Lemme teach you right now” he asserted, his voice was calm, all the while being more serious than it had been all day. The swift shift in mood threw you off to a panic.

“N-No it’s fine we can eat first”, if you had a gun to shoot yourself in the foot right now, you would. You knew yourself better than anyone, and one thing that was certain, was that you didn’t have much self control.

Everyone gathered around the dining room table, and by the time the food was finished, the sun had disappeared, lowering behind the sky high Hollywood hills.

The evening became night, and Chris was off in the washroom doing god knows what. Having read the oven clock, Madi stated she’d be calling it a night and walked over to the guest room with a blanket in one hand and her phone in the other, Matt suggested playing a movie up in Madison’s room, to which you declined from your spot on the couch, and watched as your three friends skipped up the stairs.

Less than ten minutes later, Chris finally joined you in the living room.

“Where’s everybody?” He asked.

“Madi went to bed and the rest are doing a movie night upstairs” you answered not looking up from your phone, mainly from the shame you felt.

The entire dinner, Chris’ eyes remained tethered to yours, it confused you at first but rather than wondering what he was thinking, you allowed your mind to go to places of its own.

Behind your eyes were made up images of Chris, you carried out scenarios of what it would be like to let him have you in any way he wanted, you imaged all while holding eye contact with him. Now you had spent time alone with thoughts and the feelings of satisfaction morphed into disgust with yourself.

“You gonna let me teach you now?” He inquires, you can see in your peripheral vision that his focus never faltered you once.

“What, like now now?” You question.

“Ion know what other now there is” he says.

You shrug, trying to give off the impression that none of this matters much to you, but internally, nearly every organ of yours is turning and tossing. Following his lead, you both find your way out of the sliding glass doors to the back of the house where your swimming attire is hanging to dry.

Chris pulls the corner to dress in a concealed area, on the other side of a picketed fence gate. You shamelessly but speedily put on your bikini and jumped into the pool with a loud splash, non verbally informing Chris you were finished dressing.

He appeared out from around the bend, swim shorts riding lower than they did when there was an extra 4 bodies in the pool with you earlier. Stepping back so he could have a longer running start, Chris cannonballed right over your head, landing in the deep end. A few seconds later he emerged from underwater.

“See how my arms ain’t movin” he nods down to his arms floating in one spot.

“Yeah” you engage.

“Go underwater an open your eyes” he instructs you in a suggesting tone.

Abiding by his wishes and taking a deep breath in, stretching the inner lining of your cheeks as you collect as much air as your mouth will allow, you had dived to watch the correct way to tread water, but you stayed to gawk at his abdomen flex and move with every kick each leg made.

You remained submerged, enjoying the show, until there was no air left in your lungs. Once you come back up for air, he questions you.

“Y’think you can do it?”.

You shrug to which he starts up again “cmere” he orders, less jokey as before. His assertiveness only fuels the fire of desire within you.

You swim slowly to him, once you get close enough, he grabs your hands and places them straight out to the side like a ‘T’.

“M’not gonna let you go, just pedal” he softly guides you as his hands stay clinging to yours.

Both sets of your arms are spread out leaving very little room between your bodies and faces. Every word of encouragement muttered in gentle whispers, the distance between you, or lack there of, ensured that you never needed to exceed quiet breathy volumes.

“That’s good”

“Like this?”

“Yeah you’re doin so good keep goin”.

To an outsider, the exchange sounded erotic, and though neither of you would admit it in that moment, as insiders, it felt erotic.

He eased his fingers out of yours until you were staying up on your own. You felt like you were levitating.

“No shit, I’m actually doing it” you cheered, but the ten minutes of trial and error left your legs exhausted.

Your legs cramped and froze as your hands reach back for Chris, landing firmly on his shoulders.

“Tired?” He rhetorically asked, eyes searching for yours as you stayed looking at the water.

“Y’know you can do it with your arms too” he tried to motivate you.

“Yeah maybe you can but I think I’m good with just the legs” most of your pessimism coming from insecurity.

“No seriously, it’s lowkey easier too” he said in attempt to brighten your outlook.

“Let me just-” his words snuffed out, as his fingers snaked down to your sides.

“Can I hold you here?” his voice drops an octave. You look up at him, nodding, as you feel his touch glide down to the small of your back underneath the water. The nervousness weighing you down, as you lower your hold on his shoulders, trying to move your arms in a circular motion.

The sexual frustration within you intertwines with your actual frustration of not being able to get the hang of things, a look of agitation growing on your face. Your eyebrows furrowed and the near permanent smile that painted your lips, turned sour, now straight.

“You’re doin fine, just relax a bit” he begins, “I gotchu” his grip around the lower half of your torso tightens.

As your mind begins to realign its focus on the physical task you both came for, you feel something graze your lower stomach faintly, just underneath your belly button. Diverging your hyper-fixation to look down, you feel Chris’ arms slowly let you go, initiating a knee jerk response for your arms to fling up to link behind the nape of his neck to support you.

The change in grounding point, brought you closer to his body than before. The thing touched you again, this time much less subtly, and the lack of space between you and Chris, gave you a near certain answer to what that thing was.

Every night you spent unrested you imagined a moment like this, and every orgasm you brought yourself to with the faint thought of Chris in that kitchen, you imagined a moment like this, you knew exactly what you wanted to happen, it was just about how.

“Sorry” Chris lamely excused, he didn’t attempt to string together what other reasons there could possibly have been for his dick to be in the state that it was. But you didn’t comfort his embarrassment, nor did you back away from where you were, instead you chose to seize the moment.

Your legs started off straight, but close to his, then, you began to bend your knees while parting a gap between your thighs. One of your arms stayed around his neck while the other travelled up the back of his head to interlock with his deep brown strands, now black from being soaked in water.

Only seconds later did your lower half complete its journey to be fully draped around his waist. Your faces, once inches apart, now only centimetres away from one another. His eyes broke free from their shackled gaze with yours, as your body language gave him the go-ahead to finally look at your frame the way you had peered at his once before.

The long string of weeks where you could only think of how he would feel on you and in you, was enough foreplay in itself, so you made no haste to bridge your hips up against his pulsing cock under the still water. The warmth that was rushing to every part of your bodies, made the water feel that much colder.

When he had finished eating you with his eyes, his hand jerked up from your back, to clasp your cheek. As he guided your mouth to his, his tongue waited from no invitation. The kiss was wet and messy from the beginning, only picking up heat as you explode each other’s bodies with no hesitation. His hand slipped down from your back to cup your ass before squeezing it and rubbing it repeatedly, the other hand slithering down from your jaw to find hold on your neck.

With the gap between your bodies non existent, his solid cock tented in his shorts was now pressed up against your aching core. Using the strength of your knees around his waist, you began to wine your hips in a circular motion, utilizing the part of his shaft that was against your cunt as friction.

The both of you moaned at the action, him bucking his hips in response. The coolness of the pool sent waves of shock as the cold ripples acted against your throbbing heat, the kisses became sloppy as you and Chris lost the capacity to think, thinness of your swimwear allowing every point of contact between you to feel as if neither of you had clothes on.

After barely 5 minutes of breathlessly making out and grinding over his hungry dick, you pull away from Chris.

“The pool house” was all you could slew out as you tried to catch your breath, you look deep into his eyes, the blue irises now near impossible to see beyond his black dilated pupils. He gulped in excitement, mind numb, all he could do was nod.

Both of you wasted not a second climbing out of the water, and creaking the door open. The pool house didn’t have much inside, but catching a fairly large couch in the corner, you both stumbled over towards it.

Chris immediately sat down, presuming you would assume the same position of straddling him as you did in the pool, but instead you lowered onto your knees. The sight of you so eager to make him feel good prompted Chris to whip his head back and let out a sigh of built up sexual frustration.

As your fingers hooked underneath the hem of his shorts and tugged, his length sprung out, slapping into his stomach. You knew your time in the pool was torture from his irritated tip, the colour of his teased dick making you want to do nothing more than relieve the pressure.

Once his gaze fell back onto you, your hands spread out on his thighs, sliding up to his cock, once you grab hold of it, you look into his eyes before collecting your saliva and slowly letting it run down his pulsing dick. Once his length was wet enough, you used one of your hangs to circle his tip with your palm while the other assisted your mouth in taking all of him from the side, running your lips along his dick. “Fuuuuckkkk don’t stop” he groaned as his fingers trailed through your hair.

Eventually you remove your hand from his now much redder tip, and slide his cock down your throat until your nose hits his skin. You keep him in your throat for a second or two as you look up at him, his eyes getting teary just as yours were. You continued to ram his dick in and out of your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you did so, his moans never stopping once, kept you going.

When you knew he was close, you used both of your hands to stroke him while your tongue lapped around the head of his throbbing cock. It took less than a second for him to cum, you popped his dick out of your mouth and steered his dick to shoot his thick white ropes of cum onto your chest. When he caught his breath he looked into your eyes.

“Didn’t wanna swallow?” He joked.

“You drink Pepsi like its water and eat like a 7 year old with a bank account and free will, I would rather drink bleach than your cum Chris” you shot back.

“Fair” he responded before pausing, then finishing his thought, “I bet your pussy’d soak up my cum with no complaints”.

Rather than a verbal response to the annoying but honest truth, you gave him a physical one. You stood up and pulled the strings of your bikini bottoms in one motion before crawling onto his lap. He looked at you as a cocky smile crept onto his face. You were on your knees hovering over his eager dick, your pussy pumping since the pool.

Waiting for him to enter your needy hole, you look down at his hand finding his length as he guided it to your entrance but rather than placing his dick where you wanted it, he tried teasing you, sliding his tip over your over-aroused clit. You moan, furrowing your eyebrows, eyes still planted on what he was doing.

“Chris… don’t… fuck around” you stammered between your heavy breaths and groans. He sneered and let out a huffy breath of amusement before finally letting his dick find your sopping wet hole, bottoming out immediately, not allowing you to adjust to his impressive size.

“Fuck” you screamed, leaning forward to embrace him, resting your chin over his shoulders and wrapping your arms around him.

“Easyyy easyyy” he hushed. His hands found your ass, softly grabbing hold of it as he lifted you up and down.

“Too much?” he asks, turning his head so his mouth pressed up against your ear as he whispers.

“Mm, keep going” you respond, almost forgetting how to communicate out of pure bliss, your eyes begin to roll to the back of your head and your eyelashes flutter. Chris plants kisses on your shoulder, as your moans get louder you can feel him smile into the kisses.

His slender fingers find your clit, using your slippery wetness to make his digits slide faster in circles. Every one of your limbs begin to numb, your mind soon following. As a blur grows around your vision, your moans turn to screams, the distance from the house your friends were in was large enough for you to let all that you were feeling be heard.

“Chris” you start to which he interrupts.

“I got you, cum for me baby” his thrusts rapid like bullet fire, sending your body into ecstasy. One second the knot is building in your gut, the next, it snaps.

“Fuck fuck fuck” you scream out.

“Mhm I got you” he assures you, as you ride out the feeling of his dick slamming against your g-spot and his fingers caressing your overstimulated clit.

As you come down from your high, you lean back, the sweet sweat that collected between your chests made it all feel so intimate. Chris slips out of you and runs his finger between your folds one last time, raising his hand to show you the white liquid dripping out of you.

He smiled and egotistically smiles “told you”, you grab his fingers and lick the cum off, more for the purpose of shutting him up.

After dressing into your indoor clothes and limping back to the house, you walk upstairs to Madison’s room with Chris by your side. “D’you get the hang of it?” Matt asked, not looking away from the rom-com playing on the TV in front of him. “Yeah, fast as fuck too, had time to teach her other shit too” Chris answered for you.

Authors note: I suck at smut but I feel like this one’s a bit better than the last one, TBHHHH this was basically a self insert cause I can’t swim for shit but I hope y’all liked it, happy Wednesday!!!

I forgot who wanted to be tagged ngl

Taglist: @hjvi @theyluvivi @sturniolosrtewsexy