#fall in love with the game as soon as journey starts playing

[mementokore]

The Beginning and the End

Oh how I miss it. Can't believe it's been like 8 months...

[db0xtae]

Winning the Breakup | Chapters 10 & 11

- Minho (Xo Kitty) X Reader

🦦ྀི Summary : Y/N, a talented and athletic after an intense breakup, Y/N reluctantly agrees to fake date Minho, to make their exes jealous. What begins as a mutual arrangement soon turns complicated when their fake relationship starts to feel all too real. With humor, bickering, and tender moments, Minho and Y/N's journey proves that sometimes the best way to heal from heartbreak is to allow yourself to fall in love.

🦦ྀི Warnings : None

🦦ྀི WC : 2,207

🦦ྀི Previous Chapter : 8 & 9

🦦ྀི A/N : Hope you enjoy!!!

˚⊱🪷⊰˚

Chapter 10: Crossroads

The days following Y/N and Minho’s tense late-night conversation were a haze of awkward silences and unspoken words. They still played the part of the perfect couple in front of their friends, but behind closed doors, the cracks in their act were glaringly obvious.

For Y/N, everything felt harder now. She missed the playful banter, the easy laughs, and even the way Minho would always make sarcastic comments about her volleyball matches. Now, every interaction was strained, and it was her fault. She’d pushed him away, and she didn’t know how to pull him back.

It was the day of a big volleyball match, and the gym was packed with students cheering for the KISS team. Y/N stood with her teammates, stretching and trying to focus, but her mind was elsewhere.

“You good?” her teammate Hana asked, nudging her.

“Yeah, just… distracted,” Y/N replied with a forced smile.

“Well, undistract yourself,” Hana said with a grin. “We need you on top of your game today. No pressure, but Minho’s in the stands.”

Y/N’s head snapped up. “He’s here?”

Hana nodded toward the bleachers, where Minho sat with Kitty, Q, Jin, and Yuri. He looked effortlessly cool in a leather jacket, his expression unreadable as he talked to Yuri.

Y/N’s stomach twisted. She wasn’t sure if his presence was comforting or just another source of stress.

As the game began, Y/N forced herself to push all thoughts of Minho out of her head. She focused on the rhythm of the match, the sound of the ball hitting the court, the shouts of her teammates. This was her domain, her escape.

By the second set, KISS was dominating, and Y/N was in the zone. She spiked the ball with such force that the opposing team barely had time to react. The crowd erupted in cheers, and for a moment, she allowed herself to bask in the adrenaline rush.

In the stands, Minho clapped, a small smile tugging at his lips despite himself.

After the game, Y/N was surrounded by teammates and fans congratulating her. She smiled and thanked them, but her eyes kept drifting to the stands, where Minho was waiting with the group.

“Go on,” Hana teased, nudging her. “Your boyfriend’s waiting.”

Y/N hesitated but made her way over, her heart pounding.

“You were amazing!” Kitty said, throwing her arms around Y/N. “That spike in the second set? Legendary.”

“Thanks,” Y/N said, her gaze flicking to Minho. He stood a few feet away, his hands in his pockets, watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite read.

“Good game,” he said, his voice cool but not unkind.

“Thanks,” she replied, her stomach flipping.

Q, ever the peacemaker, stepped in. “So, celebratory dinner? Jin and I found this new barbecue place that looks amazing.”

“Yes!” Yuri said, already heading toward the exit. “I’m starving.”

As the group filed out, Y/N fell into step with Minho. The silence between them was heavy, but she didn’t know how to break it.

The barbecue restaurant was bustling, the scent of grilled meat filling the air. The group squeezed into a booth, with Y/N ending up next to Minho. She tried to focus on the conversation, but the tension between them was impossible to ignore.

“Pass the kimchi,” Q said, breaking into her thoughts.

Y/N handed it to him, trying to seem normal.

“So, Y/N,” Yuri said, leaning forward. “What’s the secret to spiking like that? I feel like you broke the sound barrier.”

Y/N laughed. “Years of practice and a lot of trial and error.”

“You make it look easy,” Jin said. “Meanwhile, I can barely hit a volleyball without it going sideways.”

“You’re amazing at track, though,” Q said, squeezing Jin’s hand. The gesture was subtle, but the affection between them was obvious.

Y/N glanced at Minho, wondering if anyone else noticed the way his jaw tightened whenever Jin and Q showed affection. Was he jealous? Or just annoyed by the PDA?

After dinner, the group lingered outside the restaurant, debating what to do next.

“Movie night at Yuri’s?” Kitty suggested.

“I’m in,” Yuri said.

“Same,” Q added, pulling Jin along.

As the group began to head toward Yuri’s car, Minho hung back. Y/N hesitated before turning to him.

“You’re not coming?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I’ve got some stuff to do.”

There it was again—that wall between them.

“Minho,” she said softly, “can we talk?”

He looked at her, his expression guarded. “What’s there to talk about?”

“Everything,” she said. “I know I’ve been… distant. And I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to figure things out, but I’m not good at this.”

“Good at what?” he asked, his tone tinged with frustration.

“At being honest,” she admitted. “With you. With myself. I’m scared, okay? I’m scared of ruining this, whatever this is. But I hate how things are between us right now.”

Minho’s gaze softened, and for a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something. But then he shook his head.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he said, his voice rising slightly.

“What?” Y/N asked, confused.

“You’re scared of ruining things,” he said, stepping closer, “but you’re already doing it by holding back. By acting like what we have isn’t real. And it’s driving me crazy.”

Y/N blinked, stunned. “Minho, I—”

“No, let me finish,” he snapped, his voice trembling with emotion. “You think this is just a game? That it’s just some act to fool everyone else? Well, it’s not. Not for me.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

“I like you, Y/N,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’ve liked you since the first time you made fun of me in class. And I’ve been pretending that this fake relationship doesn’t mean anything because I thought that’s what you wanted. But I can’t do it anymore.”

Y/N stared at him, her heart pounding. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Minho shook his head, his expression a mix of anger and vulnerability. “Figure out what you want, Y/N. Because I can’t keep doing this.”

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Y/N standing there, her mind racing and her heart aching.

Minho’s confession had shattered the fragile balance they’d been holding onto. And as much as Y/N wanted to chase after him, she knew she couldn’t. Not until she figured out what she truly felt.

˚⊱🪷⊰˚

Chapter 11: Cracks in the Armor

The night after Minho’s confession felt like a storm raging inside Y/N’s mind. She lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying his words over and over again.

Her chest ached with guilt, confusion, and something else she wasn’t ready to name. Minho’s voice—usually full of teasing or sarcasm—had been raw, trembling with emotion. She hadn’t expected it. She hadn’t expected him to feel this deeply.

“Figure out what you want.”

That was easier said than done.

The next day, Y/N arrived early for volleyball practice, hoping the familiar rhythm of drills and spikes would help clear her head. The gym was quiet except for the squeak of her shoes against the polished floor.

She went through her warm-up routine alone, slamming ball after ball into the opposite court. Each hit was an attempt to push her emotions aside, to focus on something—anything—other than Minho.

“Wow, someone’s aggressive today,” Hana teased as she entered the gym with the rest of the team.

Y/N forced a laugh. “Just working out some stress.”

“Good, because we need that energy for next week’s game,” Hana said, tossing her a ball. “You and I are doing extra sets today.”

Y/N nodded, grateful for the distraction. But as the team practiced, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was only postponing the inevitable.

By lunchtime, Y/N’s anxiety had only grown. She hadn’t seen Minho all day, and she was starting to wonder if he was avoiding her. Normally, he’d pop up at her locker or make some snide remark about her choice of snacks. But today, nothing.

When she joined her friends at their usual table in the cafeteria, she immediately noticed the empty seat next to Kitty.

“Where’s Minho?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

“Skipped lunch,” Q replied, biting into his sandwich. “Said he had something to do.”

Y/N’s heart sank.

“You two okay?” Kitty asked, her brow furrowed.

Y/N hesitated. “Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?”

Kitty gave her a knowing look but didn’t push further.

The rest of lunch passed in a blur of conversation and laughter, but Y/N felt like she was miles away.

After school, Y/N found herself wandering aimlessly around campus, hoping to run into Minho. Instead, she ran into Yuri, who was sitting on the steps outside the library with her headphones on.

“Hey,” Y/N said, sitting down next to her.

Yuri pulled off her headphones and smiled. “Hey, superstar. What’s up?”

Y/N hesitated, unsure how to start. Yuri had always been one of the more perceptive members of their friend group, and if anyone could give her advice, it was her.

“Can I ask you something?” Y/N said finally.

“Of course,” Yuri replied, turning to face her.

Y/N took a deep breath. “How do you know when you’re ready to admit your feelings for someone?”

Yuri raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Oh, this is about Minho, isn’t it?”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “What? No, it’s not—”

“Please,” Yuri interrupted. “You two have been dancing around each other for months. Everyone can see it.”

Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. “It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?” Yuri asked. “He likes you. You like him. What’s the problem?”

“I’m scared,” Y/N admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Of what?”

“Of ruining everything,” Y/N said. “What if it doesn’t work out? What if we lose what we already have?”

Yuri was quiet for a moment before she said, “Look, I get it. Taking that step is scary. But you can’t keep holding back because you’re afraid of what might happen. Sometimes, you just have to take the risk.”

Y/N nodded slowly, her chest tightening. Yuri was right, but it didn’t make things any easier.

That evening, Y/N decided to stop avoiding the issue. She texted Minho, asking him to meet her at their usual spot by the soccer field.

When she arrived, the field was bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun. Minho was already there, leaning against the fence with his hands in his pockets. He didn’t look up as she approached.

“Hey,” she said softly.

“Hey,” he replied, his tone distant.

Y/N hesitated before stepping closer. “Thanks for coming.”

Minho finally looked at her, his expression guarded. “What do you want, Y/N?”

She flinched at the coldness in his voice but pushed forward. “I wanted to talk. About what you said yesterday.”

“Which part?” he asked. “The part where I told you I liked you? Or the part where I told you to figure out what you want?”

“Both,” she said, her voice trembling.

Minho sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, if you’re just here to tell me that you don’t feel the same way, I get it. You don’t owe me anything.”

“That’s not it,” Y/N said quickly. “I just… I don’t know how to do this, Minho. I don’t know how to let myself feel something without being terrified of losing it.”

“You think I’m not scared?” Minho said, his voice rising. “You think I haven’t thought about how this could go wrong? But I’m still here, Y/N. Because I’d rather take the risk than keep pretending I don’t care.”

Y/N looked at him, her heart pounding. Tears filled Y/N’s eyes as she whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Minho shook his head, his expression softening. “I don’t want you to be sorry. I just want you to be honest. With me. With yourself.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the distant hum of traffic and the rustle of leaves in the breeze.

Finally, Y/N took a deep breath and said, “I like you, too, Minho. I think I’ve liked you for a while. But I was scared. Scared of what it would mean, and scared of losing you if it didn’t work out.”

Minho stared at her, his eyes searching hers. “And now?”

“Now, I’m still scared,” she admitted. “But I don’t want to keep running away from this. From us.”

Minho’s expression softened, and for the first time in days, a small smile tugged at his lips.

“About time,” he said, his tone teasing but warm.

Y/N laughed, wiping her eyes. “Don’t push your luck.”

Minho stepped closer, his gaze steady. “No promises.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Y/N realized that, for the first time in a long time, she felt lighter. There were still uncertainties, still fears, but she wasn’t alone in facing them.

And that made all the difference.

[gothamhappiness]

Being in a relationship with Bruce Wayne: a journey - Your new family (Part VI)

It's a big series about an afab!reader who doesn't like Bruce Wayne and who still falls in love with him (he fells quicker and harder)

Reader's origin story // Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5

Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of stress, not a lot of plot here but little snippets of moments with all the kids

You were a little bit stressed out to meet all of Bruce’s children but you also felt like it was going to be alright. Jason was there, always by your side. Dick and Tim liked you and they had said only good things about you to the others. Especially Dick, because he was well aware that Jason wouldn’t agree to spend time with him again without you. The fact Bruce was much nicer since you were together was also working in your favour. Alfred was approving of you too and he had personally asked all of the children to treat you well.

The children were also aware that Bruce would be very unhappy and disappointed with them all if things didn’t go well. It was obviously very important for him.

At first, everyone was a little bit silent and awkward. It was the first time a civilian was introduced to the whole family. And technically, they already knew a lot about you without knowing you, so they weren’t too sure how to act around you. They didn’t want to scare you off by showing they made research about you… and stalked you.

After a little while, you gently teased them all, saying that for vigilantes they were quite shy. It quickly put them at ease.

Things went actually a lot better than you thought and you could tell no one really believed you would that easily get along with the family. You felt Bruce relaxing through the dinner, his hand on your thigh under the table. His warmth helped you feel safer around everyone as well.

Soon enough they all were chatting around and asking you questions. It was a true interrogation but you didn’t mind. For once, you were the one answering questions and not the other way around. It was fun.

Damian was the only silent one. He wasn’t too sure how to deal with you. He didn’t need you. He wasn’t used to seeing his father around someone. He wasn’t too certain how to react when his father kissed the back of your hand with such love shining in his eyes. 

You noticed his uncertainty but you weren’t too worried about it. You knew you were fitting just right in there. You had never felt like that before, or just with your grandma. It was a nice change in your life. And you were really eager to start spending some time with all of them, like you were doing with Jason already.

You went to concerts with Dick. He wanted to go to those classic piano concerts but no one was eager to follow him. He had asked you, half certain you would politely decline his offer. But on the contrary, you had been more than happy to agree to come with him. Your eagerness warmed his heart. It had been a long time he hadn’t had a motherly figure in his life, and he knew you were fitting perfectly. Since then, whenever one of you wanted to go to a concert - no matter what kind - you had to go together. It was your thing. None of you went to so many concerts before, but it was a pretext to spend time together. You talked a lot before the concerts too and Dick could only agree with Jason: you were easy to talk to.

You played video games with Tim. You were waiting for Bruce to come back from patrol one night and you were bored out of your mind. You found Tim playing in the living room. At first, you just asked him if you could hang around. He agreed without thinking much of it, before offering you to play with him. He needed another player and no one else was around at that time. It appeared you were a gamer and you enjoyed fighting against one other. But you enjoyed working together on co-op games even more. You spent a lot of evenings with Tim on the couch, screaming together when you were losing or winning. Everyone knew better than to annoy the two of you when you were gaming.

You watched movies with Stephanie. Stephanie was clearly not too certain how to be around you. Things weren’t always easy with Bruce and after the way her parents betrayed her, she felt like she couldn’t trust adults any longer. But Jason loved you so much that she thought she could give you a chance. Watching movies allowed the two of you to bond, without having to interact too much at first. Then you started to talk a lot about what you just saw, and then about everything else. Watching movies snuggled up against you started to become Stephanie’s comfort zone and you were more than happy to give her that. Even though you were a tease, you never said anything when she fell asleep on you.

You took dancing lessons with Cassandra. It was clear the girl was a classic dancer; she was really amazing to watch. You loved to dance too, even though you never really took any kind of lessons, so you thought it would be a nice activity to do together. Cass instantly agreed. It allowed her to observe you and your body language. She had more fun than she thought, and she offered to keep going dancing together. You improved a lot thanks to her help and she liked to discover other kinds of dances thanks to you. You also came to watch her repetitions and her representations. She started to always look for you in the spectators, happy to be taken care of that way. 

You did puzzles with Duke. You started to spend a lot more time at the manor, even when Bruce wasn’t around. You were currently doing a mind game on the living room table as Duke went by. You started to chat around and you saw Duke was quite eager to play with you, so you invited him to settle by your side. Once you were done, he looked for a puzzle he hadn’t finished yet so you could do it together. When the weather was pretty bad in Gotham, you quite liked to get some hot cacao and to do puzzles with Duke. Because you both were pretty good with puzzles, you had to always find more challenging ones. Looking for them was also part of the fun.

For Damian, things were a little bit more difficult, as he made it clear, he had no interest in spending time with you. It hurt you a little more than you wanted to admit but didn’t say anything at first. You eventually went to an animal care centre open to the public with Damian and Bruce. Bruce offered for you to come with the two of them so his son could get used to your presence. He had noticed he was the only one who was avoiding you. Damian stayed cold to you for a long time, eyeing his father holding your hand with a frown until you let go of Bruce’s hand to come closer to the lions. You really loved the animals and Damian thought you couldn’t be that bad then. That evening, Alfred the cat fell asleep on your lap, so Damian started to be more polite to you. It was the first step. You started to bond over taking care of his pets.

You also met Barbara, Kate, Luke and Lucius. 

Kate and you instantly became friends because you were seeing things quite similarly. You also loved to tease everyone together. You had a real complicity between the two of you, and you often hang out together just for the sake of being together. And annoying everyone.

Barbara needed some time to trust you but she could tell you were a good addition to the family. She slowly warmed up to you. You didn’t take it personally and you showed a lot of patience. You were happy to be part of this group of amazing people, and Barbara couldn’t deny how kind you were to all of them.

Luke trusted Duke’s approval of you. You talked a lot around a drink in a bar in Gotham after Dick invited everyone for his birthday. You asked him questions about the army and the way veterans were taken care of. You promised him to do an article about it, which touched Luke a lot.

Lucius and you enjoyed talking together, as ones of the only civilians of the family, with Alfred. For Lucius, it was quite refreshing to be able to discuss with someone who was also shaking their head at the Batfamily’s antics. Lucius quickly saw how much of a good asset you could be for Wayne Enterprises as well and he hoped that at some point you would agree to help Bruce with it.

As months went by, you started to all know each other a lot more. And to start to love one another quite fiercely. You were their Batmon. You got confirmation of it when the children playfully and yet tenderly brought you a bracelet with the bat logo on it. You swore to always wear it.

--

PART 7

--

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

@wind-canoe

@silverklaus

@couldeatthatgirlforlunch

Taglist for Bruce Wayne <3

@alishii

Taglist for this series <3

@Esposadomd

@moraxussy

@resident-cryptid

@legendarypiratecheesecake

@randomnamedmira

@elleclairez

[chatlote]

A whole year since I started posting TTWHB!! Happy anniversary to this fic that consumes so many of my thoughts.

Thoughts and rambles under read more :) (spoiler-free!!!)

It's been a crazy journey so far, hasn't it?

I expected to be much further along the story by now, but since I spend so much of my time also working on Shuake pieces and dealing with real-life stuff, I try not to beat myself up for the slow progress, 90k words in a year is still progress! Also, I draw covers for every chapter, and my beta does an awesome job at editing this whole thing, so it's a little more polished (since I'm not a native English speaker). So yeah, everything adds up, and it takes a while to post new chapters.

Speaking of the covers, it's wild to see how much my style changes between them aha, and god I really hate some of the early ones, whether it's color or anatomy or the brushes I used... When I finish this fic I think I will go back and polish every cover...maybe by then I will make even better covers!

Anyway lets talk about the story for a moment, a lot of things inspired me to write this fic, mainly the idea 'what if there was a mod where you can have Ryoji in SEES and the story changed accordingly?' that's why the fic is structured by days and time of day-as if you are playing the game!

It's not always going to be as in depth about every day of the story-we are actually near the end of it being just one or two days per chapter, and soon things will start speeding up a little more, there was just a lot of Ryoji getting used to SEES that I had to cover.

What else can I say... Oh I suppose I can share something a bit insane, which is the fact for over a year, this whole fic has been planned on an excel, with every timeslot written out.

It looks like this, except it's like, much bigger. Great for keeping track of stuff! Orange squares are all Canon events that I'm finding a way to retell somehow! This took such a long time to create but I love it. Sometimes I still change up things a bit.

I also made this chart that I'm pretty sure has mistakes but it mostly works for what I need ! Feel free to use as a reference if you want :) The red is just a note of characters that switch to first name later.

Anyway, all of this to say, I've never been so passionate about making a story as I've been about this one. Even though I know there's not that many people who care about Ryomina, and even less who enjoy reading fics of them, and 90% of people follow me for Shuake instead- I still really want to see this story until the end, in some ways it's a story I've wanted to tell since I was 13 and playing P3FES for the first time, but it wouldn't exist without Reload and making me fall in love with P3 all over again.

Lastly, thank you to anyone who has ever encouraged me in the comments on AO3, this story is for me, but it's also for all of you, and even if you don't stay with me until the end, I appreciated having you on the ride even if just for a short moment.

Now I should disappear cause I tend to be shy about rambling this much online, but the anniversary had me a bit emotional aha-if anyone has any questions feel free to drop an ask too! Always open to answer to those :) Ty for reading

And here's a little sneak peek/WIP to the next chapter, which shouuuld be out next week!

[sillylilsquid]

Real Life Romance Book pt.5

paring - hyun ju x reader summary - one day at the cozy bookstore you work at, you meet hyun ju. a woman who ignites a fire in your chest. you fall for her unaware at first of her journey as a trans woman. though that doesn't stop you from wanting her to be yours. together, you navigate the ups and downs of life, exploring love, identity, and the power of connection. warnings - au!hyun ju, no squid game, afab!reader, mentions of bullying and transphobia, sexual content, 18+ only, minors dni

The sun peaking through your curtains made the pounding in your head even worse. You groaned, stuffing your face into your pillow. Laying there you tried to play through the events of the evening before. You remembered going to the club with your friends and girlfriend, but not much after that. You knew you only got home safely because of Hyun Ju, and you were very thankful for that. Slowly you sat up, rubbing your eyes in hopes to sober you up a little bit more. You noticed your room looked a lot more tidy than the evening before, and you knew damn well you hadn’t cleaned it in your drunken stupor. A glass of water sat on your bedside table, you smiled, eagerly grabbing for it. Chugging it down you looked down at your clothes seeing you were in pajamas. Hyun Ju must have helped you change–and as sweet as it was, the thought made you nervous. You prayed you hadn’t made a fool of yourself last night.

Once you felt up to it you got out of bed and rummaged around for your phone. It was sitting in your purse, dead from being off the charger all night. Sighing, you plugged in and began to clean yourself up. You brushed your teeth and washed your face, and you found that it was much easier since your makeup had been removed. What a kind woman, you thought. You ran a brush through your hair and braided it to keep it away from your face. You knew you needed a shower to wash the smell of sweat and alcohol off your body, but you wanted to call Hyun Ju first. Impatiently you waited for your phone to charge enough to even turn on. As soon as you were able to, you dialed Hyun Ju’s number.

Hyun Ju had messaged you a few times that morning, but seeing they were green and not blue she assumed your phone had died. That was one thing she forgot to do before leaving last night; of course she cleaned your whole place but managed to forget plugging in your phone. That morning she did her usual routine after returning from the gym. She dressed herself in a pair of baggy sweatpants and a shirt, her hair messily pulled into a ponytail. Leaning against her kitchen island, she finished her morning coffee and she heard her phone vibrate against the counter. Quickly, she grabbed it. Seeing your contact photo of the two of you made her smile as she answered your call. “Good morning sleepy girl.” she spoke, setting her coffee mug down. You groaned on the other end, your throat feeling raw. “Sorry, I didn’t realize my phone died. Thank you for last night.” you responded. “You didn’t have to clean up my place…but I really appreciate it.” Hyun Ju smiled, trying to keep herself from laughing. “How many times have I told you? You can’t just let random people into your place; first it starts by them doing your chores, next thing you know you’re dead.” she teased, bursting out in laughter. You sat on the other end of the phone, shaking your head at her joke. “Ha ha, very funny. Better watch yourself or I’ll take my key back.” the both of you knew that was an empty threat. 

“Can you come over? I really feel like shit, and I just want to see my girlfriend.” you whined, and of course she agreed. “But maybe wait a little bit, I need to shower and change my clothes and stuff,” you explained, but she cut you off. “No need to wait, I’ll be over soon. You can shower once I’m there.” “Wait, why should I wait?” you tried to ask and with that she hung up. You sat on your bed, mouth hung open at her words. Shower? With her here? Surely she didn’t mean together, right? Shaking your head you headed to the bathroom, found some ibuprofen and quickly swallowed them down with another glass of water. With how close Hyun Ju lived to your apartment you knew she would arrive shortly. 

Hyun Ju made one quick stop to the coffee shop on her way over. She ordered you a tea in hopes it would make you feel a little better. Arriving at your place she locked her car and walked inside, up the stairs, and yet again politely knocked on your front door. This woman. You stood, feet shuffling to the door and unlocked it for her. When you pulled it open you were surprised to be greeted by her in such a casual outfit. You were used to her always being so tidy and well dressed, but you found this side of her just as attractive. Shyly you stepped to the side so she could enter. As she kicked off her shoes she stuck out her hand with the cup of tea, which you grabbed eagerly. “Thank you!” you exclaimed, sipping it slowly so as to not burn your mouth. The warm liquid soothed your throat as you swallowed it. “You’re welcome sweet girl. Now, if I remember correctly you need to shower, and change. It’ll make you feel a lot better.” you blushed as you looked down at yourself. “Geez I didn’t think I looked that bad.” you muttered. She chuckled, her hand forcing your chin up so you would meet her eyes. “Hush now. You know that’s not what I meant. Come on,” she leaned down, giving you a tender kiss. When she grabbed your wrist to drag you towards the bathroom you followed her obediently. 

She turned on the water, testing it with her hand before giving you the okay. You stood there staring at her with wide eyes. She raised her eyebrows as if waiting for you to either say something or undress. “Can you…could you turn around, please?” you asked, fumbling with the bottom of your cotton pajama top shyly. Hyun Ju laughed, her mouth opened briefly as if she wanted to say something but nodded instead and turned around. Once you knew she wasn’t looking you quickly undressed and stumbled into the shower snapping the curtain shut behind you. You heard her footsteps leave the bathroom and return a few minutes later, making you peek your head out. She had grabbed you a clean shirt and a pair of panties. You recognized the shirt as one of her own that she had let you borrow one time when you spilled coffee all over yours. The gesture made you smile. You tucked yourself back in the shower and tried to focus on washing off the night before. 

“I knew you wouldn’t remember last night.” she finally spoke. Her tone held a hint of disappointment, but you knew she didn’t mean it rudely. You couldn’t help but peek out again barely enough to see her leaning against the bathroom counter, her arms crossed lazily over her chest. The image made your knees weak. “Why? Did I do something stupid?” you asked, raking your fingers through your hair to detangle it. Her eyes drifted to you, admiring you and you blushed realizing you were standing with your chest barely covered by the curtain. You disappeared back into the water. She stayed silent for a moment then hummed. “You don’t remember trying to rip my clothes off? I’m offended.” she teased, giggling. Once her words registered you were mortified. She had to be playing with you. “No way, I–did I really?” you asked, your voice becoming small as you grew embarrassed. “Don’t feel bad, you were really drunk, I knew you didn’t mean it.” that made you gasp. “I did mean it! Wait, no–I mean like, well of course I want to do that but…” you stopped talking knowing you were only making things worse. “Sweet girl, it’s okay.” she responded kindly, her voice sounded like it was just on the other side of the curtain. Hesitantly you moved to look out at her, being met with her beautiful dark eyes. She leaned in, giving you a quick kiss. You finished your shower in silence, soon turning the water off. You went to reach for your towel and saw it wasn’t on the counter, but in Hyun Ju’s hands. She stood close motioning for you to get out. Clearing your throat you looked down at your body before taking a deep breath. You held that breath as you shyly pushed the curtain open. She helped you step out of the shower and proceeded to dry you off. As her hands explored your body you shivered, partly from the cold and partly from being so close to her.

Once she knew you were dry enough she helped you get dressed, and somehow standing there in front of the mirror in just a large shirt and panties made you feel even more exposed. Hyun Ju stood behind you, her height towering over your smaller frame. She began to brush your hair and you watched her in the mirror, occasionally your eyes would meet and every time she would flash you a smile. “I’ll be ready one day, soon even, just not yet.” she explained and when you didn’t answer she spoke again. “In the meantime at least let me admire you.” she sat down your hairbrush, and let her hands drag up your thighs. They landed to rest on your hips. It made your shirt lift slightly, your panties exposed. You blushed profusely. “Take all the time you need,” you whispered, craning your neck to look back at her. Her hands gave your hips a squeeze with a smirk. She removed them from your waist, your shirt falling back down over your thighs. Her strong hands now traced over your shoulders, down your arms, across your stomach. They left the feeling of fire every place they touched. “You know how hard it was to resist you? You sat there, so needy…you gave me this look with your eyes,” she spoke, her voice heavy with… lust?  You weren’t exactly sure, but you were sure that you were quickly getting turned on. Staring back at her reflection you knew the exact look she was talking about. You used it a lot to get what you wanted, something you had mastered throughout your dating history. Your eyes met hers in the mirror, and you gave her that exact look. She seemed to freeze, eyes widening. “Tease.” she whispered in your ear. You shivered at the feeling, and you knew you had to stop or else you’d be yet again trying to rip her clothes off her.

You leaned back into her touch briefly before bending down and slipping out of her grasp. “Let’s go watch a movie or something–my feet are killing me!” you exclaimed, running to your couch and flopping on it. Hyun Ju remained in the bathroom for a moment trying to collect herself then followed you out to the couch. You were also trying to force yourself to calm down and think of anything else, but it was so damn hard. When she sat down next to you her arm wrapped around your shoulders, and you tucked yourself into her side. She picked out something to watch but didn’t plan on watching most of it–she was too focused on you. On your body, and that look you gave her. Hyun Ju felt that familiar tight feeling growing in her stomach. 

Slyly you reached over to place your hand against her stomach, acting as if you didn’t even know you were doing it. As the two of you “watched the movie” your hand idly played with the hem of her shirt. She’d tense every so often when your fingers would brush against her skin. After a bit though you grew bold. You scooted closer, practically sitting on her lap so you could place kisses along her neck. Hyun Ju let out a sigh, it tickled your ear making you shiver. Before you could register what was happening, she had pulled you onto her lap. She kissed you, her lips moving feverishly against your own. She hadn’t moved your hands so you decided to take your shot. Slowly you started pushing her shirt up exposing the soft skin of her stomach. You broke the kiss to admire her, but to also check on her and see if she was okay. Her eyes were closed, head hung back to rest against the back of the couch. Her breath coming out in soft pants. You continued to move her shirt up, past her bra and Hyun Ju raised up her arms. 

“Hyunnie,” you whispered, it was the nickname you knew was her favorite. She cut you off before you could finish your sentence by sitting up to pull off her own shirt. There she sat before you in just her bra and sweatpants. Her eyes searched your face, and as much as you tried to look back at her you couldn’t help but stare at her body in admiration. Her body was lean and muscular, but still held femininity. You tore your gaze away to meet her eyes. You couldn���t speak, your mind not allowing you to form any words. “It’s okay, I’m okay.” she assured you, leaning forwards so she could kiss you. Her hand rested on the back of your neck to keep you close. Your hands hovered, not knowing where you could touch–so you decided to just rest them upon her shoulders. She chuckled against your lips. “I know you love looking, you can touch.” she offered, slowly pulling away so she could watch. You cleared your throat, now nervous. “Don’t be shy now,” Hyun Ju whispered, grabbing your wrists. “Sweet girl.” her voice was soft, laced with a teasing tone. Her hands tightened on your wrists and pulled them off her shoulders. At that moment you started to get over your nerves, realizing she was letting you do this. In fact, she took her shirt off. For you. She wanted this, with you. 

Your hands traced across her collarbones, playfully snapping one of the straps of her bra against her skin. Her breath hitched, eyes glued to your hands. Slowly, your hands drifted over her breasts. You didn’t try to take her bra off, if she wanted it you were sure she would’ve discarded it along with her shirt. Swallowing, you gently squeezed her breasts. A moan, though barely audible, escaped her lips. Your heartbeat pounded so hard in your chest you were sure she could hear it. Seeing her like this made you drool. What a beautiful woman, you thought. As your hands slowly moved down her stomach you felt her abdominal muscles, reminding you of how strong she was. The skin of her stomach was soft and supple. Hesitantly your fingertips traced the waistband of her sweatpants, but you stopped yourself. Don’t ruin this, you reminded yourself. So you swept your fingers back up, resting on her breasts again as you leaned in to kiss her. She needily kissed you back, hands wandering your body. They had pushed your shirt up enough to rest against your butt, kneading it briefly. As you two continued to kiss you felt her body relaxing more underneath yours which made you smile. She was comfortable with you. The movie on the television soon finished, and when the apartment became silent she slowly pulled away. She was panting underneath you. “Like what you see?” she teased, reaching up to swiped her thumb across your bottom lip. You nodded eagerly, which made her laugh. “Hyunnie, you’re beautiful.” you whispered. You brushed her hair out of her face, trying to fix it after destroying it earlier by threading your hands so desperately through it. “You’re beautiful too,” your name fell from her lips so effortlessly. Her voice smooth, still thick with desire.

You slumped against her, burying your face into her neck. She wrapped her arms around you and her muscles flexed. You felt yourself grow tired; you weren’t sure if it was because of last night, or because of your heated kissing with Hyun Ju. “Sleepy?” she asked you, and you just silently nodded. Hyun Ju reached around you to grab her shirt, briefly pushing you up so she could pull it over her head. You whined, but allowed her to do it anyway. Hyun Ju stood up with you in her arms, legs wrapped tightly around her waist. She carried you to bed, setting you down. “Don’t go!” your voice desparte, making you blush at how needy you were acting. “Sweet girl, I’m not leaving.” she crawled over you, tucking the both of you into bed. Her body snuggled up behind yours, pulling your back against her chest. As your breathing slowed you felt the feeling of sleep take over you, and you could’ve sworn you heard her whisper three words. I love you.

a/n: i appreciate all the love i get from writing, y'all are really sweet. enjoy!!

[qinche-cvmslvt]

Metafiction

Pt1.

Content Warning: assault, space travel, fourth wall break attempt, NSFW, smut, Physical and mental harm, degrading, being held in captivity, penetration, SA, angry Sylus.

21+

Synopsis: you’re just an ordinary woman who regularly indulges playing a mobile game called Love and Deepspace…and occasionally read filthy fanfictions about your favourite character Sylus. Your whole world is turned upside down after rescuing a baby crow and you’re transported into a world where the game isn’t a game and Sylus is real…and all those fanfics you read did NOT prepare you for this.

A/N: I’ve had this idea stewing in my mind for a very long time. Please forgive me if it doesn’t translate well. But I hope you enjoy and join me on this mind bending journey. And if you bear with me..we will eventually see sylus’ sweet side.

Your screams echo and make your ears bleed. Lights all colours of the cosmos blinding you in a blur of movement so fast you think maybe your eyes are bleeding too. Agony washes through you as it feels like your body is getting stretched thin like spaghetti and then bounces back to normal just for it to happen again.

You were falling, stars and space dust collide around you. Images of different worlds and planets surrounding you. Why is this happening? What is happening? You feel as though your heart is gonna burst from your chest with every stretch and pull.

Then you see it. An image of a black crow with glowing red eyes appears before you in a dusty haze, you reach for it feeling your fingers stretch towards the familiar bird.

As soon as your finger tips touch the dusty particles that make up the image of the crow a bright light shines and blinds you. You cover your eyes with your other arm and feel yourself falling hard and fast. Suddenly you collide with something hard, your face hitting hardwood floor. You groan as you lie there, body too weak to move.

“Who are you?” You hear two voices say in unison. You slowly raise your head, vision unfocused.

But you swear you can see two men dressed in black wearing bird masks. Confusion washes over you as you whisper.

“Luke? Kieran?” You don’t know why but these men do look like Luke and Kieran from the game. You notice them stiffen and their voice getting more aggressive.

“Who. Are. You?” They demand.

You can feel yourself getting nauseous and dizzy. Your vision goes blank and you pass out as you see them stepping towards you.

~

Your muscles start to twitch, consciousness slowly returns and you wake to the feeling of sore muscles and your head pounding. You’re still on the floor but you’re somewhere different.

It feels colder here and a chill runs down your spine as you feel you’re not alone.

“You’re awake.” A deep voice resonates in the air.

You look up eyes still blurry but you know that voice. How could you not. But this wasn’t possible. None of this is possible.

You suddenly feel a burning pain snaking around your body, you look down and see black and red mist enveloping you. You groan in pain as the mist lifts you into the air and brings you closer to the figure sitting on a chair. You land on your knees in front of him.

The painful mist still holding you in place. Tears stinging your eyes, you look up. Your vision is still blurry but you can make out the Silver hair and the deep, red eyes. There was no mistaking it.

“S..Sylus?”

The man’s brow furrows, he leans down and grabs your chin hard pulling your head up to look you in the eyes.

One of his eyes glows bright as he asks “who are you?”.

You tense your body expecting to feel some more pain in your head as you expect Sylus to read your mind but nothing changes.

He gets angrier being unsuccessful in his attempt to read your mind. You feel your body get jerked up into a standing position. The black red mist constricting you like a snake.

“Please..stop.” You beg. “I’m no one. I don’t know how I got here. I’m not from this world.”

Sylus steps closer, his hand on your jaw squeezing your cheeks together.

“Then how do you know me and my men.” His voice was deep and seething with rage.

Tears start to spill down your cheeks from the pain.

“How did you get into my base unnoticed?” His grip tightening.

“I..don’t know!” You sob through squished cheeks. “Please let me go” tears are falling uncontrollably now. Your body in so much pain, your head still pounding.

“Not until you answer my questions.” He growls.

A dark glowing tendril snakes up your body, you feel it slide up your neck and towards your mouth. Your eyes widen in fear as the black tendril goes into your mouth and before you could scream it plunges down your throat, suffocating you.

The sounds of you choking fill the room. You’re trying to scream, trying to move but you can’t. You’re paralysed and absolutely terrified. Just as the corner of your eyes go black, the tendril is yanked from your throat. You gasp and cough. Saliva dripping out the corners of your mouth.

“Please.. you don’t need to do this.” Your voice hoarse. “I’ll tell you whatever you need to know.” You sob.

“You’re right, I don’t need to.” He steps closer to you closing the distance. A finger smears the saliva on your lips. “I want to.”

“No please! Don’t!” You sob as you feel the black tendril touch your face. Unwilling to go through that again you pass out.

~

As you start to regain consciousness once again, you feel you’re somewhere softer. Your arms hurt, and you look up to see both wrists are handcuffed to a headboard above your head. You’re half sitting, lying down on what feels like the most comfortable mattress you’ve ever been on. A blanket covers your lower half.

Your eyes take in the dimly lit room. Dark velvety walls, dark carpet, beautiful goth paintings decorate your surroundings. Book shelves filled to the brim and by the corner sits an old timey record player.

You wriggle your wrists and pull on the cuffs but it’s no use. Your body is still aching and now your throat hurts too.

Your heart beat quickens. This isn’t how you thought your throat would hurt because of Sylus, is it y/n?

You shake your head and sigh to yourself. This can’t be real.

“This has to be a dream..” you whisper to yourself.

“It’s not a dream.” Sylus’ thick voice cuts through the silence.

You look towards the bedroom door to see him standing there leaning against the frame.

“Sylus..” you barely whisper. He starts slowly walking to you, each step closer putting fear in you.

“Please don’t hurt me.”

He’s standing over you now, once again grabs your cheeks with one strong hand and squeezes. One eye starts glowing as he tries to read your mind again but nothing happens.

He scowls and lets go.

“Why isn’t it working?!” You can feel his anger in every pore of your body and you get goosebumps.

“I-I don’t know.” He grabs your hair and you yelp in pain.

“I swear I don’t know!” You cry out. “Where I’m from there’s no such thing as evols or aliens. Nothing!”

You see his brow furrow even more and he pulls on your hair, stinging your scalp.

“Please! It’s the truth!” You sob. “Where I’m from you’re a video game character! You’re not real! None of this is real!” Tears are streaming down your face again.

Sylus let’s go of your hair and sits on the edge of the bed. “If none of it is real how did you get here?” His voice sharp like a hot knife.

“I don’t know.. I swear!” You start to ramble. “You’re just a character in a dating sim game, a virtual boyfriend. That’s how I know your name, how I know Luke, Kieran and Mephisto…”

“A virtual boyfriend?” Sylus looks at you with disgust and then he chuckles. There was no humour behind it, it was mocking. “How pathetic.”

He pulls back the blanket that was covering you from the waist down. Once the cool air pricks your skin you realise you’re not wearing any bottoms or underwear, you’re completely naked.

He rests a hand next to your hip and leans forward. His face only inches from yours.

“Tell me…are most girls pathetic like you to resort to a virtual boyfriend?” His hand starts to slide up your thigh. “Did you imagine what it was like to get fucked by me hmm?”

You try to keep your thighs together but he’s much stronger than you and spreads your legs. He leans in closer to whisper into your ear. “Did you enjoy it?”

You sob as you feel one of his fingers slide between your folds.

“Please stop..” you whimper. But he doesn’t.

“Stop? But look at you. You’re absolutely dripping.” He inserts his finger in you and you gasp at the intrusion.

“Please, I’ve told you everything..” more and more tears slide down your face and you try desperately to ignore the pleasurable feeling building inside you.

“This isn’t about getting information anymore.” He adds another finger, picking up his pace as he shoves his long fingers in and out of you. Feeling your tight hot walls as he does. “Say I do believe you. This is about humiliation.” He sits back and watches your reaction.

You screw your eyes shut so that you don’t have to see his red eyes staring you down. Your face feels hot and the tears just keep flowing.

“I’m begging you.. p..please stop…” you pull at your wrists but the cuffs just dig into your skin.

“You say stop but your body says don’t stop…it feels so good.” He taunts. You turn your face and try to hide it behind your arm.

“Look at me.” He demands. You don’t move. He starts thrusting his hand faster to the point of pain and you cry out. “I said look at me.” He growls.

You open your eyes and the red orbs send chills throughout your body. It was menacing. It was evil.

The door to the bedroom clicks open and Kieran walks in. He’s completely unphased about what is happening and talks to Sylus.

“Boss there’s been chatter of a wormhole that opened up around the same time she fell through. Luke and I are going to go investigate now.”

Sylus, still thrusting his fingers in you, just casually responds. “I’ll meet you two there.”

Kieran nods and walks out of the room closing the door behind him. You can’t believe that just happened, that he acted like nothing horrible was happening.

Sylus looks back at you, he curls a finger up and finds your g-spot. You gasp and moan and mindlessly buck your hips up.

“Look at that…” he says mockingly and he keeps rubbing that sensitive spot making your mind go crazy. Waves of pleasure surging through you but you hate it. At least you try so desperately to hate it and fight it.

“Are you gonna cum hmm? Cum for a fictional character like a pathetic, ugly woman?” The words are like ice shards slicing through you.

“Please..” you sob one more time but it’s too late. You cum and you cum hard on his fingers squeezing so tightly he can barely move them.

For a second you thought you heard him groan but you dismissed it as you ride out your orgasm. Your sobbing gets a bit louder as your mind starts to clear up.

Sylus scoffs and pulls his fingers out, wiping your juices on your thigh. He stands up, still looking down at you.

“Disgusting.” He doesn’t even cover you back up before heading to the door to leave.

You sniffle and sob and watch him walk away. Just as he reaches the door you speak up.

“I hate you.”

He pauses for a second, doesn’t even turn around.

“Good.” And with that he left shutting the door hard behind him.

~

It felt like hours had passed, your arms and wrists aching so badly. Your tailbone was starting to hurt now too, causing numbness in your legs.

You’re silently crying, wishing you were back home. You hear the flap of wings in the room and a black crow with red eyes and metal wings lands on the bed near your feet.

“Mephisto..” you whisper.

The crow tilts its head at you and starts hopping towards you. You can’t help but let out a tiny laugh. You’ve always liked birds. Especially crows and when they would hop like that.

“I found a bird like you..” you know whatever you tell Mephisto Sylus will hear but there was something comforting about the way Mephisto approached you.

“A little baby crow was injured outside my house..I helped him and nursed him back to health.”

Mephisto flapped his wings and came up to land on your shoulder. He nudged his head against your cheek and you couldn’t help but smile at the tender action. You leaned in and rubbed back.

“It was so cute. I even named him Mephi..after you of course.” Mephisto cawed in response.

“But as I was redressing Mephi’s bandages…his eyes..they just started glowing. I thought I was going crazy.” You felt Mephisto nuzzle against your cheek again, it was as if he was wiping away your tears.

“Next thing I know I’m surrounded by bright lights and feeling like I was getting sucked into a vacuum…it was horrible and painful. I honestly don’t know how or why I’m alive right now..” your voice begins to shake. You look at Mephisto.

“Then I saw you. With everything else I was experiencing I saw you. I reached out to touch you and a light so bright almost blinding me appeared.” More tears roll down your cheeks. “Then I end up on that floor in front Luke and Kieran.”

Mephisto spread his wings and cawed again. He took off and disappeared into a cloud of black mist.

“Good chat..”

You sigh and look up at the ceiling and close your eyes, taking in a deep breath and releasing it slowly.

How are we going to get out of this one y/n?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[russo-woso]

hi, do you write for Niamh Charles? if so, maybe one where reader makes her debut for England and scores the winning goal but then ends up injured pretty badly in the game and Niamh realizes her feelings for her?

Yes, I do write for Niamh! I love Niamh, except for the fact she plays for Chelsea, but anyways, here is I really really like you.

I really really like you | Niamh Charles

Warning slight injury, and just Niamh being protective.

Summary You and Niamh announce your love for one another after an eventful match

Over the past two weeks, the only thing you could think about was England camp.

You had received your first England call up from Sarina for the matches against The Netherlands and Scotland.

You knew it was bound to come at some point. You had been playing exceptionally well for Manchester City and England’s U23.

At just age 22, you were Manchester City’s first choice as CAM.

You were excited to be playing with the seniors, the feeling of being at a sold out Wembley, but also to see a certain defender.

Niamh Charles.

You had barely spoken to Niamh. You shared a few sentences, if you could even call it that, when playing against Chelsea.

You weren’t going to deny it, you couldn’t deny it because it was so obvious, you had a huge crush on Niamh.

From the way her hair falls when she takes it out in matches, to the way how her hand feels in yours when you shake hands.

You didn’t know why you liked Niamh, I mean, she’d never like you back. Would she?

————————

You travelled down to St George’s Park with the city girls.

It was a relatively easy drive down. There was no traffic, but as soon as you got there, you wish there had of been.

Your heart was racing.

Thoughts went rushing through your mind. What if you didn’t play good? What if Sarina made a mistake inviting you into the squad? What if you embarrass yourself in front of Niamh?

“Y/N, you coming?” Esme asked you as she started to walk inside, quickly stopping to look back at you.

“Yeah.” You replied, hesitancy in your voice.

“Y/N/N, you’ll do fine. I know it’s a big change and thoughts are running through your mind right now. But you belong here.” Esme told you, quickly hugging you before walking inside.

You followed her in, dragging your suitcase behind you.

You enter the lobby first, finding out who your roommate was.

You were roommates with her.

You grabbed your keycard, making your way up to the second floor, before lightly tapping it on your door.

It granted you access, and you walked inside hesitantly.

“Hi, it’s Y/N, isn’t it? I’m Niamh.” Niamh welcomed you into the room. You couldn’t help but notice how voice stuttered a few times when she spoke.

“Yeah, I’m Y/N, it’s nice to properly meet you. I feel like we’re always in such a rush after matches that I’ve never really met you.” You joked and Niamh agreed with a small laugh.

It was already late by the time you had gotten there so you were already tired and ready to get to sleep.

“Everyone’s going down to the relaxation room just now if you want to come.” Niamh asked, playing with the hairs on the back of her neck.

“I would but it’s been a long journey down here and I’m tired so I might just head to bed.” You explained, also stuttering some of your words due to being so nervous.

“Are you sure?” She questioned, just double checking, and you replied with a smile and a nod. “Okay, well, sleep well.”

With that, she left the room, the door clicking shut.

The only thing that replayed on your mind was the conversation, the way how your voice stuttered as you spoke to her.

She had to know that you liked her now, with the stuttering, the sweat that was starting to build up on your forehead.

After sitting in a silence whilst you thought back of your previous conversation, a small beeping in noice was heard from the door and it opened.

Niamh walked inside and you gave her a confused look.

“I couldn’t leave you here alone. Not when it’s your first night.” Niamh explained and you shook your head at her explanation, guilt washing all over your body.

“Niamh, no, seriously I’m fine. You go downstairs if you want to.” You told her

“Everyone down there’s boring. And anyway, we’ll be stuck with them for the next week so one night not seeing them will do me good.” She justified and settled herself on her bed. “I thought we could find a film to watch.”

And that’s exactly what you did. You both agreed on a movie and spoke the entire night.

The tiredness you felt completely went away as you spoke to Niamh.

You spoke, you laughed, you told stories.

It was safe to say that you didn’t just like Niamh anymore, you were utterly in love with her.

————————

The rest of the week sped by, with training taking up the mornings and then spending the afternoon with your new friends.

Over the week, You quickly befriended Alessia Russo and Ella Toone. The duo quickly becoming a trio.

You got along with them well and you spent most of your afternoons with them.

The week had sped by so quickly, that you were all currently on your way to Wembley.

On the way, Sarina announced the lineup.

Sarina didn’t read out your name but assured you that would definitely be subbed on later on in the game.

Niamh, who was sat next to you on the coach, cheered for you, and rested her head on your shoulder.

“I’m so happy for you. Your first England debut.” Niamh said, looking up at you.

“Thanks, Niamhy.”

————————

The team had down amazing to come back.

At half time, they were down 2-0, but with two goals in two minutes, they were now equal with the Netherlands.

In the 68’, Sarina told you and Alessia to take off your bibs.

You stood with her as she told you tactics she had picked up.

Whilst waiting for the ball to go out of play, Alessia stood next to you.

It was so cold that you were basically cuddled up to one another.

She congratulated you on my debut, patting you on my back as the announcement was made.

It was announced you’d be subbed off for Georgia.

She ran off the pitch high fiving you, before you ran on.

The game continued and there was still no goals come the 90’.

You had been playing incredibly, proving to everyone why Sarina had called you up.

In the first minute of injury time, Lauren James crossed the ball into the box and you were in a perfect position to run onto it.

Without taking a touch, you nutmegged the Dutch keeper and the ball ended up being in the back of the net.

Your teammates surrounded you, enveloping you in a hug.

Once everyone pulled away, Niamh pulled you in again.

“I’m so proud of you, Y/N/N.” She whispered in your ear.

“Thank you, Niamhy.” You said, using the nickname you’d given her.

You noticed her cheeks flush a light red and with the confidence you felt, you pressed your lips onto the red pigment before running back to your position.

Two minutes later, you had another chance in the penalty box.

Lucy played a long ball into the box and you jumped to header it.

The next thing you knew, something connected with your head but it wasn’t the ball.

The Dutch keeper had jumped up to punch the ball away but instead, had punched you.

You fell to the floor limply as blood made it way from your nose.

You groaned in pain and your hand went flying to your nose and you head.

Alessia was the first one to you, crouching down and stroking your hair to comfort you.

Everything was blurry, you couldn’t think straight but all you could think of was Niamh.

All you wanted was Niamh.

Instead of going straight to you, Niamh marched over to the keeper, Daphne van Domselaar, and pushed her straight to the floor.

“Look what you’ve done to her! You fucking bitch!” Niamh shouted at Daphne.

You winced at the sudden shouting, the pain searing through your head.

“Niamh, I want Niamh.” You managed to get out to Alessia.

As the medics got to you, Alessia left to get Niamh for you.

Within seconds, Niamh was crouched down next to you.

She gently picked up your head, getting approval from the medics, and laid it in her lap.

You reached out for her hand, which she squeezed lightly.

“Y/N/N, you’re so brave. You’re going to be okay, I promise.” She said, tears running down her cheeks as she stroked your hair.

Your teammates gathered round, awing at you and Niamh.

They were certain that by tomorrow morning, you and Niamh would be a couple.

The medics put you onto the stretcher and lifted you upwards.

You watched as Niamh was taken aside by the ref and was given a red card.

Niamh accepted the red card. One, she thought Daphne deserved what she got, even if it wasn’t her fault, and two, she got to be with you whilst you were treated.

She ran to catch up with you and the medics, taking your hand in hers and walked towards the tunnel.

————————

“Why did you do it?” You asked Niamh once the medics had gone.

They had confirmed that you had a broken nose and a concussion.

“Do what?” Niamh asked back, giving you a sympathetic look as she looked at the stained blood on your face.

“Punch Van Domselaar. Get a red card. She didn’t do it on purpose.” You said and Niamh looked down at the floor. “Niamhy.”

“Please don’t call me that.” Niamh whispered, barely being able to hear herself, let alone you.

“Why?” Confusion took over your face, not knowing why she didn’t want you to call her that.

“Because it kills me to hear you say it when I know you don’t like me. It kills me thinking back to tonight when you were on the floor. It kills me to think about our late night conversation when I know that after camp, everything will go back to normal.” Niamh revealed and once more, tears fell from her eyes.

“Niamh, what makes you think I don’t like you back?” You asked, as her head jerked upwards, revealing her blue eyes, full of hope. “I’ve liked you since I played against you for the first time. The amount of times I’ve Instagram stalked you just so I can see your smile. It’s killed me knowing this past week that we’ve grown closer and closer but I’ll never be able to call you mine.”

“You like me back?”

“Of course I do Niamhy. Who wouldn’t? You are the most kindest, most beautiful, loving person I’ve ever met, with a hint of protectiveness…” you joked, referring to the events early tonight. “…Who wouldn’t like you back? Definitely not me. I really really like you, Niamh. I have done for a while.”

“I really really like you too.” She said, a huge smile appearing on her face as she inched closer to your face.

You could practically feel her breath on your lips as she stopped her movements.

You took the final step in connecting your lips.

It was so gentle, both of you too scared to move, trying not to overwhelm one another. And the fact you’ve got a broken nose.

“Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?”

“Of course, Niamhy.”

[chrisevansonly]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐔𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐱’𝐬 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐟𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐱 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: the only person matteo loves more than you and charles is his uncle max, and his uncle max might have just given your husband an idea you weren’t so ready to talk about…

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mentions or anxiety, slight arguments, bit of angst, but also lots of fluff and cute uncle max moments!

𝐚/𝐧: here is chapter 3!! this is the beginning of matteo’s karting journey! i place him to be around 2 here, still too young but this is where it all starts thanks to uncle max and charles! this one isn’t super angsty yet but as we keep going some chapters are gonna get interesting 👀

𝐰𝐜: 1.3k+

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

At the age of two Matteo was already quite the quiet little boy, his preschool teachers always attempted to get him to come out of his shell and interact, but he didn’t really love the idea. At home with you and Charles he was the complete opposite, chatting, laughing, and wanting to play games all day long. You were worried but his paediatrician was sure to quell any worries, simply stating he would grow out of it and he was just a bit more anxious than most kids. 

“Maman play?”

Came his little voice from the living room, he sat around a tower of building blocks and toys cars

“Sure my love, I can come play, papa will be home soon too”

“Papa!!”

You laughed at the toddler’s squeal of excitement, knowing his father was coming home soon and he would have both his parents to play with him. 

“Papa jouer?”

You smiled leaning down to kiss his forehead, a hand smoothing his unruly chocolate brown hair away from his eyes 

“Ou, petit ours, papa jouera”

Matteo giggles before pushing a few toy cars your way, letting you roll them back towards him as he smiled and clapped, truthfully as much as he adored Charles, Matteo was a mommas boy deep down. 

It wasn’t too long after you’d begun to play that you could hear the tell-tale sound of Charles’s Ferrari pulling into the driveway, what you weren’t expecting were two voices instead of one. Matteo got up and went over to the front window, a noise of what you could describe as pure happiness spilling from his lips. 

“Papa! Maxie!”

He turned to smile at you excitedly, a sight that never got old to you at all. You joined him in the window, smiling at your husband and Max Verstappenm aka Uncle Maxie, as they both walked to the door. As soon as it opened Matteo took off in a run towards his father. 

“Matteo ralentit, s’il te plait, bébé, fais attention!” 

His giggles only got louder until he managed to fall to his knees before getting to Charles, both of you waiting for him to whimper or cry from hitting the floor but he only sat back on his butt, frowing up at Charles. 

“Oh, ç ava petit ours?”

“Ouch”

Charles smiled before bending down to pick his baby boy up, kissing his cheek 

“Yeah, ouch Teo…we need to listen to Maman when she says careful right?”

Matteo nodded, his eyes glossing over a little bit, as Max excused himself to come over and say hello to you, pulling you in for a hug and kissing your cheek 

“Hey Max, how are you?”

He smiled 

“Not bad...though not sure you’ll like me in a few minutes”

“What why?”

Charles cleared his throat, shaking his head 

“Nothing amour, don’t worry about it”

“Charles.”

He watched you cross your arms, eyebrow raising just enough letting him know he was treading on thin ice if he continued, only making the dutchman at your side laugh 

“Matteo, want to come with me and see something special?”

Max asked, causing the little Leclerc to turn his gaze to him before he began to nod enthusiastically

“Present?”

Max smiled taking Matteo from Charles 

“Yes, present little bear”

As the two of them disappeared out the front door you looked at your husband, the good mood you were in beginning to dwindle knowing the two F1 drivers had gotten themselves into something, no doubt, not checking with you first.

“Mon amour…”

“Qu’est-ce que tu me caches Charles? Ne mens pas, je ne suis pas d’humeur.”

It was nothing new for you to speak in French, but Charles knew if it came out when you were a little irritated, he had minutes to fix the problem 

“Rien, je vous promets que ce n’est rien de grave ma belle…venez voir.”

You hummed, not impressed at all, and it wasn’t like you were mad at him, because you weren’t. It’s just that there had been talks of karting and knowing Max you had an inkling of what this surprise was. 

“Charles-”

He was quick to take your hands, pulling you to him so he could press a kiss to your lips, his eyes remaining soft 

“Just please, come outside…then be as mad at me as you want”

Sighing softly you agreed, following your husband outside as he held onto your hand tightly, not wanting you to let go, Charles knew there was a huge chance you’d be upset over this but, here’s to hoping it wouldn’t be too bad. As you approached the garage you eyes widened seeing Matteo sitting in his own little go kart, Max cheering as he made fake karting noises, obviously it wasn’t on, for safety reasons of course. Matteo was smiling away, giggling as Max pushed him around a little bit, Charles glancing at you to see just how you felt about this.

“Maman! Kart Maman!”

You nodded walking over and crouching down to look at your little boy, and you would be lying if you said the happiness in his little green eyes didn’t make your heart soar 

“Yes my love, did Uncle Max and your Papa get you a kart?”

He squealed happily, placing his hands on the wheel as you straightened up, looking over at Max 

“So who’s idea was this?”

Both men remained quiet which only made you roll your eyes 

“Someone want to tell me or do I need to play a game of clue?”

“Well you see…it was both of us”

You looked to your husband who had a sheepish smile on his face, nervousness behind his eyes

“Max and I were just attending a meeting and we saw it and well the rest is history, I just thought it would be cute for Matteo to have you know…nothing more”

“Nothing more? Charles he’s going to be wicked on the track with this thing!”

Max was smiling until he noticed your attention become focused on him, then it was his turn to feel nervous, bringing a hand up to rub at his neck 

“When he goes on the track? That’s funny because last time I checked we weren’t talking about Matteo and karting, it wasn’t even up for discussion yet.” 

Charles sighed as he watched you take Matteo out of the kart, holding him to your chest as you placed a kiss to his cheek, staring at the red and gold paint like it would bite you if you got too close to it.

“Max is just teasing baby I promise, I just wanted to get it so he can sit in it and just be around them, it wasn’t to make you upset” 

“I appreciate that, but I thought we said we’d talk about it before you decided to even purchase a kart, Charles he’s two, i’m not even ready to discuss this with you yet…”

You paused walking a little ways from the two drivers before stopping 

“Max I really appreciate what you did with Charles, but next time, speak to me first, Charles you should know better.”

They watched as you walked back towards the house, Matteo frowning and he noticed the distressed look on your face. 

“Maman sad?” he asked softly. 

“No Matteo, Maman isn’t sad, let’s go play inside hmm?”

“Play play!”

Charles watched the two of you disappear into the house before running his hands over his face, clearly not expecting you to be this upset by it, but deep down he knew better, and he should have talked to you about it. He and Max put the kart away before saying goodbye to one another, not before Max went to apologize to you. 

As Max’s Audi pulled away from your family home Charles only hoped he hadn’t overstepped too much, Matteo was still young, he knew that but there was also the hope that he could introduce his little one to the world of racing. Knowing how happy Charles was as a kid to kart and grow up around race cars, he only wanted to share that with his son.

He just hoped he hadn’t messed that dream up by upsetting you. 

ʚlittle karter series tag list

@goldenmclaren @a1leexxa @piastricodedfr @treehouse-mouse @therealcap @goldenalbon @wintfleur

english translations:

Papa jouer? - Papa play?

Ou, petit ours, papa jouera - Yes little bear, papa will play

Matteo ralentit, s’il te plait, bébé, fais attention! - Matteo slow down please, baby be careful!

Oh, ç ava petit ours? - Oh, are you okay little bear?

Mon amour - My love

Qu’est-ce que tu me caches Charles? Ne mens pas, je ne suis pas d’humeur. - What are you hiding from me Charles? Don’t lie to me, i’m not in the mood

Rien, je vous promets que ce n’est rien de grave ma belle…venez voir. - Nothing, I promise that it’s nothing serious beautiful, come see

[junedenim]

catch some z's

he's lovedrunk.

warnings: smut, blowie, angst, fluff, ambiguity, you get the picture

word count: 4.6k

He’s bored. It's not a major affliction, it just sort of happens at these kinds of things. Parties fall into two categories boring and too drunk to remember. He doesn't want to get drunk so he's bored. Everyone else seems drunk. He knew he had come to this party too early. It's only 10 o'clock and he's been here for 2 hours and he's ready to go home. But everyone else is just getting started. In fact, half the people planning to attend this party have yet to arrive. So, he guesses that's why he's staying. Within that half, there's you. That kind of thing just happens too.

Your relationship has been a fuzzy one. Alex used to date your best friend but now they are just friends. He's also friends with your friend's wife. Everyone just kind of knows each other. It's all very incestuous. But you've always been friends. You're witty, sharp like a whip, and have a laugh so contagious he's gotten stomach aches from it. He also might be in love with you but that part is a little fuzzy too.

He sits and waits at the bar, still nursing just one drink. He knows not to go too heavy on the alcohol like last time. He's been too sloppy with his liquor lately. Somehow, you're never drunk. He's seen you down enough liquor to make a person fall over but you stand the same: hand-on-hip with a slight curve of your spine. It's enough to get him to break a sweat.

He's been stuck daydreaming for too long he thinks he might have fallen asleep. He leans against the bar and debates whether it's worth staying. He knows you'll come here with someone else because you always do. He wonders if you're ever alone. There's also someone on your arm and someone in your bed.

Sometimes, it's him. He's okay with the "sometimes" part of things. It works for people like him, the comers-and-goers of the world. But within that "sometimes" you're together, you like to play these games. Bring another man along, show up late to the party, pretend he doesn't exist. He knows you do all this to get a rise out of him, in more ways than one, but his impatience is at the max. Alcohol would make it more tolerable but he wants to be fully aware tonight.

A warmth spreads across the back of his neck and there you are with your hand on your hip, that curve in your spine, and Michael on your arm. Michael is fine. He's a horrible drunk but one of the more manageable men in your life. He'll pass out on the bar soon enough and you can pawn him off to one of your other friends to take home.

He knows all this because of the glint in your eye. He's only turned around, his vision not even properly focusing on taking everything in, but that spark shines through. You're smiling and it's both conniving and lustful. He wants to take a bite out of you sometimes, to have you lodged in his throat.

"Hiya, sailor!" You salute him, having a big joke out of you. That'll make it tougher. When you're in this joking mood, you have him play court jester for you, mock him all night, tease and toy with him before you finally give in. He doesn't know if he can work for all that tonight. He feels tired and there's a pounding in his head. It's light but he won't make it past midnight. He can tell by your smirk that you're in it for the long haul and you're ready to drag him through it.

Alex finds it best to just play along. The quicker he gives, the quicker you'll give. He bows his head. "How are you doing, ma'am?"

You play your swooning act, a soft gasp, and give him your hand. He places a soft kiss on the back of it, giving it the featherlight touch that he knows leaves you aching for more. He wants you to ache. "We had a long journey from Rex."

His head lifts slowly, trying to keep track of all your slight movements like the way your eyebrow quirks as you wait for a response from him. You know how to handle your prey. You're a master of it. "You've been out already?" He raises himself up completely, leaning back against the bar.

He's thankful for the way Michael sways, already lost in the sauce. Any sober person would question these slow movements, this dance you do with one another, every position calculated. Each of your response times inch on for years. There's an extended period of time—one long enough to be classified as an eternity—before you give a slight nod of your head. "Rex Club, Bridge—enough for Michael to be drunk."

"Michael's drunk," Alex notes like this is new information. Michael looks like he might need a chair but you kept him pinned at your side like your puppy. Alex takes a sip from his drink to wash you down.

He waits for your quip, the one that will make him feel foolish. But your eyes begin to wander and he's panicked he's lost your interest. You tug at Michael's hand like you're trying to keep him awake. "Can I have that?" You point to his half-empty glass, sitting in his hand. Zig-zag.

"Yeah." The glass looks better in your hands, somehow turned into fine china. The liquor slips easily down your throat and the glass is suddenly empty, sitting on the bar beside him. Your head roams around the room like you're looking for someone else to prey on. At one point, he would have begged for you to stay but he's too tired to make a fool of himself. Another drink doesn't sound bad so he orders another of his and one for you. That makes you stay. Alcohol is always key to getting your attention.

"You didn't ask me what I want?" You play coy, biting your lip, letting go of Michael's hand to place your hands on your hips. He's got you, he knows it now. You've let go of Michael, now you just need to rid of him, pawn him off to Matt or something.

He shrugs. "I know what you like." You'll take anything, you're flexible that way, and you're a dipsomaniac, at least in practice.

You hum and tilt your head like you don't quite believe this but he knows this to be the truth. He knows that you know this. Your hair flows down with the movement of your head, your neck is exposed and just like that, you've knocked him back. You know each other so clearly, so knowledgable in the movements that'll make the other snap. His control has broken and he's been reduced to a puddle just by the sight of the slope of your neck. How sweet it is.

"Should we get Michael a seat?" He asks. The man's eyes are half-shut and he hasn't said a single thing this whole time. Alex wonders if he's hooked on anything else but at least he isn't doing his drunken rambling routine yet.

You look over Michael with an admiring gaze. Alex doesn't understand Michael. He's a normal guy who can sometimes make you laugh and sometimes make you want to kill him. He's not exciting and he can be rather tiresome. Alex knows, in some sense, Michael is a project for you. He's a toy for you to play around with for this month. But shouldn't these projects be more interesting than Michael? There's nothing admirable about Michael. He's miserable to look at. (He's handsome but Alex is steadfast in the belief no one is worthy of you, not even himself, not that he wants to be. He's content with whatever this is because this is fun. Michael is not fun).

"Michael and I will grab us a table. You'll bring over the drinks?" You're playful and, to him, it's hurtful. He thinks you should know he's tired, that this was a long week and he can't do this hours-long dance with you. Now, you're just being cruel. You walk away, swaying in your hips and his eyes are on your ass. He waits and waits and waits for those drinks.

He sets them down at the small table, the one up against one of the walls. Michael has gained an awareness of his surroundings and spots the two glasses sitting before him. "Where's mine?"

Alex chuckles at the man's slurring. Michael is a punching bag to him. But then you're looking at him and with a smirk you say, "Al, go get Michael a drink."

He swears to himself this is it. He'll grab Michael a drink and grab your hand and go home and fuck you because this is all tiring. You once said you like a man in charge so he's going to do that and he does do that and you yelped and yelled at him to sit down. So, he sits down. "You can be so extreme," you say with an eye roll.

He's baffled by this. "I'm extreme?" He doesn't understand how you aren't aware of the extreme torture he is suffering from. "What about you?"

You scoff and sip your drink, smiling into the glass. "You like to make scenes."

Alex laughs. It's a falsehood of a story to consider him to be capable of making scenes. He has always been the quiet mouse sitting in the corner. He's been known to occasionally come out of his shell but compared to you. There's no competition. "You don't know me very well."

You bite your lip and lean back in your chair. Michael is chugging his drink. "I know you perfectly."

He concedes, "Yeah." It's the truth. You've always had this irregular responsive relationship. One look and each of you knows, like the stare you give one another as Michael burps. Hidden peals of laughter slipped under the "pleasantries" you exchange.

You cross your legs. His eyes travel down the exposed skin. A thigh to kiss, a knee to caress, shoes to scatter across the halls of his house. During one of the first go-arounds you two had, you kicked his shin. He swears the bruise is still there.

"You make me laugh, Al," you randomly say. He considers this to be a calculated move. Your right leg, the one crossed over the left, swings back and forth, knocking against the leg of the table and his leg. His view of you is obstructed by the glass sitting in front of your lips like you could kiss it at any point. He's always wanted to be a cold liquor-filled glass.

He'll play with the cat. "Why's that?" He leans back in his chair, wraps his hands around his glass, sitting his arm on the table. He crosses his leg—right over the left—knocking his boot-covered foot against your strappy heels. If he could smoke in here, he'd lit a cigarette now. He knows how that gets you going.

You shake your head at him. And then, you're blushing. It shocks him how much he's overtaken you. It shoots pleasure through him and puts a feather in his cap. He'll boast about this to whoever cares to listen. You lift your head back up and push your hair back, uncovering those rosy cheeks. "You really know how to do a girl in."

"Do a girl?" It's his way of prompting Let's get the fuck away for Michael and fuck. But it's cheesy and sloppy and has you turning your face away, looking around the room again. Not a good sign.

"Is anyone else here?" The question makes him wince. Why should you give a fuck about anyone else when he's here? He's here, exposed, and he made you blush just a minute, who else here has made you blush? Certainly not Michael.

He shrugs and downs most of his drink. Michael's glass is empty and he's rising out of his chair to go get another. "You get the next one, Mike?"

Michael, with no awareness of time, money, words, or you, nods his head. "Yeah. I got you. I got all of you." He leaves and it's a relief.

Alex inches closer to you while you're looking away. He thinks about reaching out but that isn't part of the game. "When are we leaving?" It could be too much, too quick. Sometimes you like it hot and cold but that's not important to Alex right now. He's tired. And horny. Really fucking horny.

You cock your head back like you're trying to evaluate him. "We? Leaving?" You click your tongue. "No. Not now." He'll take his time. Alex knows he sometimes has to wine and dine you. Another drink will lighten things up and maybe induce Michael into alcohol poisoning so he can leave for good.

Michael comes back with more drinks. You all sit in a silent circle. Your eyes are off looking at the rest of the party, looking for someone better to devour. Alex is looking at you, trying to will your eyes toward him through his stare or magical powers or whatever. Michael is looking at his drink. Michael likes his drink very much.

"When are you going to look at me?" Alex finally asks. Wizardry wasn't doing much so maybe words will work.

Your head turns back. You look at him, really look at him, dissecting him for your science fair project. Your gaze is puzzling at first, trapped in a landmine. You brush your hair behind your ear twice and lean back in your chair again. A smirk reemerges across your face. "I'm looking at you now aren't I? Do I need to watch you all the time?"

Alex nods. "I'd like you to."

You adjust yourself. He's made you frazzled. How pleased he is. "Okay." It's like you've accepted your fate, surrendered yourself, not to him, never to him, but to wherever the night leads. For him, this is preferably his house and preferably right now.

"Go?" He points his thumb behind him to the exit. You look sold with the smirk burying itself deeper on your face and your feet both firmly placed on the ground. It excites him to an extreme degree.

You tilt your head to the side and he's ready to stand and sweep you away for the rest of the night. Your smile grows wider. "Michael, we're going to Al's." His smile fades and his head drops back with a groan. You stand and grab Michael as you're unsure if he can stand on his own two feet.

Alex grunts as he stands and doesn't bother helping with Michael. "You hate me," he says, sipping the rest of his drink. He puts his suit jacket back on and waits for you and Michael, who is leaning against your back, slumped in sleep how Alex wishes to be.

You pinch Alex's side, the first touch all night. He squirms away from it but he's desperate for your hand on him again. You possess a touch that makes a man unfold. "You're very cute when I work you up."

"Why don't you let me work you up?" Code for Please let me into your panties right now.

You begin to walk toward the exit. You sigh and pull Michael to your side, his arm wrapped around your shoulder and his head slightly perked up as he relearns how to walk. "I have to take care of Michael," you say. Michael can take care of himself. Michael has a hundred other people at the party who would have taken care of him. But you enjoy working Alex up, you told him this. When his hair gets all messy from his hands running through it so much, that's your favourite part of him. The unraveling and the unraveled.

The air feels late as you walk toward Alex's place. He chases the alleviation of a cigarette, placing it between his lips and dangling it there. Michael is saying something about Canada but his ears feel too muffled to listen. You stand between Alex and Michael, your arm around the latter and the side of your hip knocking into the former. You're testing him, he knows this.

"Michael, would you like to go home?" Alex asks at a red traffic light. A taxi rounds the corner and Alex hopes to shove him into it.

Michael babbles something on your shoulder before looking at Alex. He chuckles. "No, we're going to your place, remember? Silly guy."

You cackle with Michael, making fun of Alex, who puts up with all this because his house is just a block away but these cars keep getting in the way of crossing the street. Michael stands up straight, brushing off his shoulders like there's dust there or something. He starts trying to touch his toes. The traffic light is still red. "Are you having a good time?" You ask.

He thinks about spitting to show his disgust. He turns his head to you and smiles with such a falsehood that it gets you giggling again. You tap his shoulder and leave your hand there, commanding attention. "When are you going to kiss me?" You ask.

Alex laughs. "If this traffic light ever turns green." That and Michael getting hit by a car. Alex truly does like Michael.

You giggle. "You have many rules." Your body seems closer.

"I do?" He questions, a smirk appearing as your face draws closer. "I think you're projecting."

"Mhmm," you agree but words are so far away and your lips are so close to his. Kissing passes the time quickly. He is looped into you and refuses to take his hands off of you. You pull away but Alex's hand remains in contact with your arm. You look behind you. "Michael, the light's green." And then, you're crossing the street and Alex has to remember what walking is. Your skin's touch burned into the palm of his hand and he finds himself having to catch up.

Michael races into the house the second Alex opens the door. He lets you enter first and locks the door after himself. Michael is sitting at the kitchen table and you’re moving through his cabinets. His boots stop clicking at the archway into the kitchen. You turn your head toward him, your hair spilling down your back. “Where’s your alcohol?”

“You finished it off.” He rubs his right eye. He’s getting a headache. Maybe this is a prolonged hangover. He wants to sit down but he can’t sit at the same table as Michael, he might have a stroke if he does that. He takes his suit jacket off and folds it over his arm. He unbuttons the top two ones of his shirt. It feels so fucking hot.

You turn around with a frown. Your hands go to your hips. Your head tilts to the left. “Michael needs his bottle.” Like he's a baby or something and not a grown man. This would be more fun if Alex was drunker. He's just tired.

Alex rubs his hand over his face, trying to scrub away his headache, the exhaustion, and this sweat. "There's some stuff in the fridge. I'm gonna go change." He turns his back and hears you mutter, "Okay," before he moves into the bedroom. He can hear you snap open a bottle and Michael is doing some shouting but it's largely muffled to him.

Alex takes his shoes off. He pushes his trousers off and pulls his button-up over and ends up facedown on his bed. His head aches and his back feels sharp. He debates going to sleep. He knows you can manage to let yourself out, you've done it before. 

The door creaks open and you come in and sit on the bed. Your hands make their way through his hair and for a moment he thinks he's imagining this pleasure. He feels a gentle release of his tension as your healing hand sweeps through his hair, their cold touch on his scalp. "My poor old baby."

Alex muffles a chuckle into his pillow and turns his head to look up at you. "I'm not that bad."

You openly giggle. "I don't know. You're suffocating yourself in your pillow."

Your hand continues to move its way through and his eyes flutter momentarily, almost eroding his exhaustion. "Where'd Michael go?" He's either dead on the couch or you let him out because not a peep can be heard. That whining has finally gone away, maybe that's why he feels better.

You sigh. You remove your hand from his head, using them to remove your shoes. "He's getting more alcohol."

"Ah," Alex says. Michael is like a fly Alex is simply unable to get rid of. It's rather frustrating but he's pretty sure that's the reason why you keep him around. Because he bugs the hell out of Alex. But Alex actually does like Michael.

His eyes have been closed for too long. You're somehow in your bra and underwear, sitting on the side of the bed with your arms crossed. Your returning touch snaps him out of it. Your hand skims through his hair. "Go to sleep," you whisper.

"You're almost naked and you want me to sleep." For people who have slept together so much, Alex can only think of two times you've actually slept together (one was his birthday, and the other was that blizzard last December). That's where the chink in your relationship lies but we won't concern ourselves with that today.

"Why? You want head to relieve your head." You're playful and wonderful and he's pathetic and weird and he loves you so fucking much and you know this and you love this and maybe even part of you loves him but he can't be sure of anything just that you feel good and he makes you feel good and maybe that's all it has to be (but wouldn't it be great for it to be more).

He flips onto his back. "If you insist." And he insists. He insists so much. He'd beg at this point but he's just so tired. He hates feeling this way like he'd give up parts of himself just to please you. But your hands are playing with the waistband of his underwear and all of that feels pointless.

"Oh, how you flatter me," you gush. You bring your legs up onto the bed and sit on your knees. You overpower him, hovering above. One hand moves up and grazes over his stomach, the other deepens into his underwear. He better flatter you, fully erect with all of him—his heart, his soul, his dick—sitting in your hands.

Tingles overtake him. Your mouth covers him and your tongue washes over the head like windshield wipers. He's jelly in your hands, complete mush. You take him deeper. He hits the back of you, unable to go any further. It's all too much but he can't turn this feeling away. The moaning, groaning, grunting, and whimpering that escapes his lips. 

You take your lips off of him and sit up so your eyes meet his. Your hand continues to move up and down. You smile, just slightly, no words. In there, he sees the love. He sticks his tongue out and you giggle and stick yours out. He puts his away while you leave yours out and return to his cock. He's back to feeling overwhelmed and you're quick, wanting to get this done before Michael is back. That doesn't ruin the feeling. It's actually kind of exciting like when you're a teenager and you're scared your parents are going to catch you. It's this newfound excitement, the kind he seems to find on every corner he passes with you.

He thinks about being brutal with you. It's something you've done before in these vignettes of quickies. The fast, rough nature of forcefully moving himself into your mouth. But he doesn't want this soft nature to leave. The one that you set the tone with when you walked into his bedroom and combed your hands through his hair. The kind that makes him feel warm inside, not from the sweat or liquor, but a much rarer feeling.

Instead, he reaches down and pushes the shadow of your hair back, just so it's out of your way. You laugh with him in your mouth. He's not sure why but it has him tensing his muscles, a desperation in the vibrations. You move him further and quicker and his heart is beating in his ears. 

Then, you sit up, rubbing him with your hand, finishing him off onto his stomach. He's left with his toes curling and his eyes closing. It's all too much. He wants to take you in handfuls. A moment passes. You stand and return with a tissue, rubbing him off of himself. You tuck him away back into his underwear.

You're still in your bra and panties. He reaches up and fixes a strap sliding off your shoulder. You reach your hand behind yourself, approaching the snap. He shakes his head. "Stay like that. I just like to look at you sometimes."

You're blushing again. Your hands fall onto his thighs. "Your head better?" Deflection. For someone who commands such a spotlight, you shrug away any attention, at least that is mixed with affection.

He reaches out and places his hand on your thigh—his right, your left. "Yeah." It'd be nice to stay like this for a while.

"What will we do when Michael gets back?" Oh, right. Him.

Alex says, "Lock the door."

You laugh and you tell him so, "You make me laugh." You lay down and tuck your head onto him. "Was that okay? Me moving?" You don't usually ask for permission, especially from him, especially when you're like this—next to naked and alone together. His arm curls around you, keeping you close because that's when everything feels good.

He feels sleepy. "Yeah." Everything is okay with him, everything that involves you like this is okay. His eyelids flutter and he feels bad for not doing anything for you but he's tired and he's taken care of you plenty of times before.

The front door shuts. Alex groans. You laugh. Michael whistles. "I'll make him leave."

Alex shakes his head. "You're going to make a drunk Michael leave?” A drunk Michael is the worst human being on Earth. Alex seriously does like Michael.

You stand up. Your hand finds his and tugs on it. He sleepily sits up but you've already left the room, moving out into the living room, still, only in your bra and panties. Alex thinks about putting his clothes back on but it's Michael and he doesn't care if Michael knows you've just given him head. Actually, it feels him with glee for Michael to know that. Besides, Michael is too drunk to recall anything anyway.

Michael has poured three glasses of brandy. "It'll help you digest dinner!" He exclaims. Alex doesn't think any of you had dinner unless you count all this liquor. Alex joins you and Michael on the couch and sips on his glass of brandy.

You put your hand on Alex's thigh. Michael leaves about an hour later. You and Alex are very drunk by the time he leaves. He doesn't remember the rest of the night. But you're in his bed when he wakes up. You're both hungover. He shouldn't drink so much.

*

a/n: i had fun writing this. i think it's written a little differently than my other stuff but maybe that's just me thinking i sound like hemingway. (currently reading the sun also rises). thanks!

[transparentgames]

After four years of development, we're finally ready to show Transparent Games' first commercial project, "Saintess of the Golden Bow", to the public. The 1-hour-long demo is completely free to play and shows the beginning of Celeste's story as the Saintess of the Golden Bow.

"Saintess of the Golden Bow" is a project that's very close to my heart. I'm a huge fan of webtoons, especially "Villains are Destined to Die", "I Failed to Oust the Villain" and "Father I Don't Want This Marriage". I wanted to tell the story of a girl that is also a webtoon/webnovel fan, dreaming of what it would be like to be isakai-ed into a fantasy world and have hot guys fall in love with you. 

And she does! After a fateful encounter with Truck-kun, she gets reincarnated in the web novel she's a fan of - "Saint of the Golden Bow". Only that she's not anybody significant, she's just an extra in the main character's backstory - until she changes her new reality and it's her who becomes the Saintess. 

She steals the spotlight from Levi, the book's Saint. Soon she's thrown into going on a journey to defeat the Demon Queen with her Loyal Knight Levi, the Mad Prince Noah and the High Priest Elijah. Whom will she fall in love with?

I'd like to thank my whole team for being with me on my own journey of creating this visual novel. There's still a long road ahead of us - we want to develop the story into a 300k-word otome visual novel. If you want to support us, please subscribe to our patreon or back the kickstarter in the future!

On the Patreon we will be showing WIPs of art, exclusive illustrations and short stories. We also plan to, starting August, release Extended Demo builds first on patreon, and then to the public. We want to show the whole Common Route as an Extended Demo - so about 4 hours of gameplay.

I hope you'll have as much fun with the demo as we had making it. Saintess is really a labor of love, and I'm happy to share that love with you.

I wish everybody all the best,

Anna 'Lavinnia' Kończak

Transparent Games

[reidsaurora]

"Apple Pie Proposal" ~ S. Reid

Summary: In which You and Spencer make your yearly trip to the apple orchard an official tradition.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1,144

Content Warnings: heavy food references, honestly i think that might be it? lmk if i missed anything though!

Extra Notes: crappy summary as always, live laugh love 🤪

Originally Written: 10/16/2023 through 10/24/2023

Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!

Halloweek masterlist can be found here!

Apple cider was on your tongue, Spencer's oversized sweater was on your skin, and fall was in the air. Your stomach did somersaults at the feeling of joy rushing through you, wishing you could capture this moment and stay in it forever.

This was the fourth year you and Spencer had gone to the apple orchard together. Still, it never lost the same magic that it had the first time. Nothing gave you more satisfaction than spending the entire afternoon together, filling up your wicker baskets with locally grown apples, then baking the first pie of the season with them.

Many people didn't know that Spencer was quite the baker. While neither of his parents had taught him many skills in the kitchen, his Home Ec teacher had taught him how to bake up a damn good pie.

The orchard wasn't far from your shared apartment, a quaint little place just outside Mount Vernon, Virginia. Luscious trees spanned for what appeared to be miles, filled to the brim with bright green pears and apples that were every shade of red. The owners were an older couple that Gideon had known in college, whom he later introduced to Spencer and you.

After your baskets were nearly overflowing, the two of you made your way back to the car, starting the journey home, Spencer's favorite CD playing quietly as the two of you talked over it.

Spencer, ever the gentleman, insisted on you heading inside first, saying he'd grab the baskets from the car while you got started on collecting the ingredients for the pie. So, you did as asked, grabbing your apron from the hanger and getting to work.

"I think we severely overestimated the size of our pie," he chuckled as he brought in the second, heavier container of apples.

"Nonsense," you giggled from your spot at the island, where you were currently peeling and cutting the apples from the first basket. "Penelope will want a pie, Hotch will ask us to make him one for Jack, Gideon's coming over tomorrow for the football game. These apples will be gone in days."

He gave you a look of agreement, though you could see there was an unspoken emotion behind his expression. Admiration or love, you figured. And with that, Spencer was grabbing another apron, joining you at the bar and getting to work on the pie crust.

Soon, a batch of apple tartlets was in the oven, while Spencer finished up the last of the work on the pie. You sat down next to him again, giving him a similar look to the affectionate expression he'd given you earlier.

"Hey, do you remember the first year we did this?" he asked randomly a few minutes later, a faint nostalgic smile tugging at his lips.

A smile of your own crept up to your mouth. "You mean the year you threw an egg at me?" you answered, a laugh settling on the edge of your tongue.

"Hey, I only hit you with an egg in self defense. You're the one that threw flour on me," he rebutted.

The aforementioned laugh rolled off your tongue, a sound that Spencer told you almost daily was his favorite noise in the whole world. "Of course I remember. Why do you ask?"

He sat quietly for a moment, as if pondering the reason himself. Eventually, he landed on, "I guess I wonder how many years you think we'll be able to do this together."

The uncertainty in his words was almost enough to break your heart. Since the first time you'd visited the orchard, you'd hoped you'd continued the tradition every year for the rest of your lives. Maybe even eventually rope your children and then their children into it too. You weren't sure where along the line you'd led Spencer to believe otherwise, but the unsure look on his face let you know that he was nervous about your answer to the question.

"I'm hoping forever, if you'll have me that long," you answered, placing a comforting squeeze on his sweater clad arm.

He leaned over, giving you a soft and sweet kiss. "That sounds like a plan to me."

As if on cue, the oven beeped, Spencer heading to grab the pan of tartlets. While he began placing them on the cooling rack, you headed over to the oven, placing the pie inside.

It took you a moment to register what was happening as you turned to face him again. At first, you thought maybe he'd dropped something or his shoe needed to be tied. But then, you realized there was something in his hand, one of the apple tarts. And then, examining the scene further, you noticed something shiny atop the treat in his hand.

The words were shaky as they exited Spencer's mouth, his hands trembling as they held up his creation. "I really hope you were serious about your answer to my last question. Otherwise, I'm gonna look very stupid," he chuckled nervously.

Tears slipped down your cheeks at the display in front of you, your heart thumping a thousand beats per minute. "That certainly doesn't belong in dessert," you managed to laugh, your tears nearly turning to full-on waterworks.

"I suppose it doesn't," he chuckled nervously, holding the tart up further. "I'm hoping you can overlook it just this once though."

"I'll try," the joke came out weak, tears still falling from your eyes.

As if remembering why he was down there in the first place, he shook his head and gave you a more serious expression. "Y/N, I have loved you for over four and a half years. But when I think of how long I wish to love you, four years seems like the smallest sliver of time. I guess what I'm trying to say is… I want this—the orchard, the pies, all of it—every year for the rest of our lives. If you'll have me, I'd really like to be your husband."

The words came out stuttery and nervous, random breaks in his sentences, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. Especially not when the prospect of spending a lifetime with Spencer was on the table. "Of course I'll marry you," you answered, your own words somehow shakier than his.

He stood from his kneeling position, sliding the ring onto your finger and leaving a delicate kiss over the digit. "Thank goodness you said yes. That would make for some awkward conversation when Gideon comes over tomorrow."

A breathy laugh escaped your lips, pulling him in for a long and romantic kiss. This time, Spencer was on your tongue, an engagement ring was on your finger, and love was in the air. And again, your stomach did absolute somersaults at the feeling of joy rushing through you, wishing you could capture this moment and stay in it forever.

-> taglist: @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @nomajdetective @kbakery @leigh70 @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @lunar-affection @givemeth @lavhoes @rhyanishere @cat-lockwood @danielle143 @marsmallow433 @handsupforamiracle @topguncultleader @mente-sindescanso @reverieofmgg @spencer-reids-adventures @ah-blossom @encyclo-reid-ia @reidselle @thevisionthedream @dungeons-are-too-cold @mmmeademaaa @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @annahalstead5021 @cwritesforfun @soapiebear @maelartasch @buckyyyismahhlife @cynbx @hellooitsrose @lover-of-books-and-tea @juismissing @captainchris-pike @therealrazortai

[bullet-prooflove]

I think my life might be better if I lived in Colorado

Tagging: @kmc1989 @kcloveswrestling @dakotapaigelove  @noxytopy @chaostwinsofdestruction 

Companion piece to:

Break Free - Jamie decides it's time to break free from Yellowstone.

The day after John takes the governorship from Jamie, the two of you take off for Colardo. He quits job, packs his shit and doesn’t look back as he climbs into your Jeep and takes off for the Centennial State with you by his side to navigate.

It’s the most impulsive thing he’s ever done and it’s fucking liberating.

You switch seats half way through the drive. Jamie falls asleep with his coat bundled up as a pillow as you take over the second portion of the journey, Bruce Springsteen playing over the radio as you sing along. It’s the most relaxed he’s felt in a long time.

When he wakes up it’s because you’ve pulled up outside the private lodge you’d booked on the way out of town. As soon as he steps out of the Jeep he knows he’s made the right decision because he can breathe for the first time in fucking months.

His intention is to unpack the Jeep, get your stuff stowed but you’re already undressing in the driveway, leaving a trail of clothes that leads down to the hot spring only a few footsteps  down the lane. Jamie catches a flash of your bare ass as it disappears behind a bushel and thinks fuck it before he strips off his own clothing and follows you.

You’re already in the hot string by the time he joins you, your hair tied up in a messy bun, your face already flush from the heat as you gracefully bob in the water.

“You bring out the devil in me.” He tells you as he sinks the water, the warmth soothing over his stiff muscles from the car journey and you laugh as you paddle over to him, water splashing as you go.

He can’t imagine what it must be like to be you, so wild, so carefree but he thinks he’s starting to get a taste of it.

You spend the afternoon making love in the water and playing silly games. Time starts to slip away and before he knows it the sky is darkening and there’s a chill in the air he knows is going to bite when the two of you finally get out of the water.

You run naked back to the cabin, Jamie laughing alongside you as the two of you gather up your clothes and let yourself into the building with the key the owner has left you underneath the mat. You gather up the towels from the bathroom as Jamie lights a fire in the hearth casting a warm glow throughout the small rustic living space. You don’t bother getting dressed, you simply lie in front of the fire, the damp towels draped over your skin as you sip the beers and eat the chocolate from the welcome basket.

He makes love to you in front of the fire, his eyes locked on yours as he moves in long, drawn out thrusts that have you calling out his name as he pulses deep inside you.

It’s as he lies there in the aftermath, basking in the cosiness of the fire with you draped across him that he realises he hasn’t looked at his phone in almost twelve hours. He doesn’t want to because this right here with you is paradise and there’s where Jamie’s going to stay until he decides otherwise.  

Love Jamie? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[db0xtae]

Winning the Breakup | Epilogue end

- Minho (Xo Kitty) X Reader

♡ ︎Summary : Y/N, a talented and athletic after an intense breakup, Y/N reluctantly agrees to fake date Minho, to make their exes jealous. What begins as a mutual arrangement soon turns complicated when their fake relationship starts to feel all too real. With humor, bickering, and tender moments, Minho and Y/N's journey proves that sometimes the best way to heal from heartbreak is to allow yourself to fall in love.

♡ ︎Warning : None

♡ ︎WC : 2,265

♡ ︎Previous Chapters : 1/2

♡ ︎A/N : This is officially the last chapter of Winning the Breakup :( Tell me your thoughts on this story. What can I improve on, anything I could do differently. I am open to constructive criticism. Hope you guys enjoy!!!

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪

The gym was filled with the sharp sounds of sneakers squeaking against the polished wooden floors, the cheers from the bleachers, and the high-pitched whistle of the referee as the game reached its final moments. It was the championship match for KISS’s volleyball team, and Y/N was in the middle of it all, focused, determined, her heart beating in sync with the rhythm of the game.

The crowd was on their feet, the excitement palpable. It had been a long season, and Y/N had pushed herself through everything—late-night practices, tough workouts, and endless drills. But this game… this game was different. The stakes were higher. The championship was within their grasp, and she wasn’t about to let anything—or anyone—get in her way.

The ball came flying at her from the other side of the court, fast and sharp. She jumped to intercept it, her eyes locked on the target. For a split second, time seemed to slow as she made contact, sending the ball soaring toward the opposing team. But as she came down, her foot landed awkwardly, and a sharp pain shot through her ankle.

She gasped, her body teetering for a moment before she collapsed to the floor. The gymnasium fell silent, the cheers fading into a distant hum as everyone turned to see what had happened.

“Y/N!”

It was Minho’s voice, unmistakable, filled with panic. He was already off the bleachers and sprinting toward her before anyone else could react.

Y/N gritted her teeth, clutching her ankle as she tried to push herself up. But the pain was too much—her vision blurred for a moment, and she collapsed back onto the floor.

“Y/N!” Minho shouted again, reaching her side. His face was a mask of concern, his usual confident smile gone, replaced with worry. He knelt beside her, taking her hand gently. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“I—I’m fine,” Y/N winced, biting her lip as she tried to shift her weight, but the throbbing in her ankle was unbearable. “I just… I think I twisted it.”

Minho’s expression darkened, his brows furrowing. “You need to get checked out. I’m not letting you walk this off.”

“Minho, it’s fine,” she protested weakly, but the pain in her ankle spoke louder than any words she could muster.

Before she could argue further, the team’s coach and a few teammates had arrived, kneeling down beside her. “Y/N, don’t move. We’re going to get you to the sidelines,” the coach said, her voice firm but caring.

With Minho’s help, Y/N was carefully lifted and guided off the court, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps as each step jostled her injured foot. Her mind raced, but all she could think about was the overwhelming pain in her ankle and the sting of disappointment that she wouldn’t be able to finish the game.

“You’ll be okay,” Minho said softly, his voice low and comforting. He stayed by her side, never letting go of her hand as they made their way to the sidelines.

The rest of the game seemed like a blur. The sounds of the match faded as Y/N’s focus remained on the injury. She could hear the crowd, but it felt distant—like she was in her own world.

Her teammates were doing their best to play without her, but Y/N couldn’t help but feel a sense of guilt. She had worked so hard for this moment. The championship… and now she was on the sidelines, injured, unable to help.

Minho stayed with her through the entire ordeal, refusing to leave her side. He offered comfort, making her laugh even when she felt like she might cry. The game was over, and although KISS’s volleyball team won, Y/N’s joy was overshadowed by the pain in her ankle.

Later that evening, after the game had ended, Minho drove Y/N to the hospital. The ride was quiet, aside from Y/N’s occasional wince and the soft hum of the car’s engine. Minho kept glancing at her, his face tense with concern.

“You don’t have to come with me, you know,” Y/N said after a while, her voice quiet. “I’ll be fine.”

Minho didn’t respond right away. Instead, he reached over and gently squeezed her hand. “I know. But I’m not leaving you alone, Y/N. You mean too much to me.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. It was the way he said it, so sure, so certain. She had known it for a while now—she had always known—but hearing him say it out loud, in this moment, made everything feel real.

When they arrived at the hospital, Y/N was quickly assessed by a doctor, who confirmed that she had sprained her ankle and would need to wear a walking boot for at least a few weeks. She also had to use crutches to help her get around, which, for someone as active as Y/N, felt like a huge blow.

The doctor gave her a prescription for pain relief, and after some paperwork, they were free to go.

Minho helped her into the car, being extra careful with her injured foot. As they drove back to campus, he kept his eyes on the road, but his mind was clearly on Y/N.

“You’re going to be okay,” Minho said again, his tone almost as if he was reassuring himself.

“I know,” she replied, her voice softer now, a little less defiant than usual. She knew Minho was trying to be strong for her, but she couldn’t deny that she was a little shaken. “I just feel like I let everyone down. I worked so hard for this season, and now I can’t even finish the championship game.”

Minho’s expression softened, and he gently placed his hand on hers, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “You didn’t let anyone down, Y/N. You’re the heart of the team. You’ve given everything, and that’s what matters. Winning the game is important, but your health is more important. And besides, we all know you’ll be back in action in no time.”

Y/N smiled, grateful for his support. “You’re right. I just… I hate being stuck like this.”

Minho chuckled. “I’ll make sure to spoil you while you’re on crutches. You won’t have to lift a finger.”

Y/N laughed softly. “I think you’re already spoiling me enough as it is.”

Minho grinned, his eyes sparkling. “Good. Because that’s exactly what I plan on doing.”

As they arrived at Y/N’s dorm, Minho helped her out of the car and up to her room. She sat on the bed, and he made sure her foot was propped up properly with pillows before going to grab her crutches.

“You really don’t have to do all of this,” Y/N said, watching as Minho carefully adjusted her crutches, his focus entirely on making sure she was comfortable. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“I know you are,” Minho said, standing back to admire his work. “But I want to do this. Besides, I’d rather be here taking care of you than sitting on the sidelines.”

Y/N smiled up at him, feeling a rush of affection. “Thanks, Minho. I really appreciate it.”

Minho grinned back, his eyes softening. “Anything for you.”

The days following Y/N’s injury had been a whirlwind of doctors’ appointments, pain management, and trying to get used to navigating campus on crutches with a bulky walking boot on her foot. The first few days had been the toughest—feeling vulnerable and completely out of her element as she limped through the hallways of KISS, trying to keep up with her usual routine while dealing with the discomfort. But what made it bearable was the constant presence of Minho and the rest of her friends, who seemed to make it their personal mission to ensure she didn’t feel alone.

It had become a sort of unspoken routine, really. Minho was always there, waiting for her before class, walking alongside her with a protective arm around her waist, his presence as comforting as a warm blanket on a chilly day. He even carried her backpack, which, despite her protests, he insisted on doing.

“Minho, seriously,” Y/N would say, wincing as she tried to shift her weight on the crutches. “I can carry it myself.”

But Minho would just shoot her a mischievous smile, giving her a wink. “Yeah, sure, with one hand and a crutch? Not happening. Let me do this.”

Y/N had given up after the third day of him insisting, realizing that she might as well let him spoil her a little. After all, it wasn’t every day she had a personal assistant in the form of a cute, caring boyfriend.

The others chipped in too, of course. Kitty, always the optimist, would make sure that every class felt like a mini adventure. “I got your notes for you today, Y/N! And you can totally count on me to run to the vending machine and grab you some snacks. What flavor of chips are you craving?”

Y/N would laugh, her eyes brightening, her heart swelling with gratitude. “You’re a lifesaver, Kitty. Salt and vinegar, please.”

Dae, the ever-enthusiastic presence, would always find a way to make her laugh. He had a knack for getting under her skin, and even with her crutches, Y/N could never stay annoyed at him for long. “You know,” Dae would say with a grin, “you’re gonna be so fit after this. You’ll have biceps bigger than mine from all the crutching around!”

Q would snicker in response, but then reach out to offer her his hand whenever they were walking through busy hallways. “If you need help getting around, you just let me know. I know a shortcut to the cafe that will save you at least five minutes,” Q said, always practical and thoughtful.

And then, of course, there was Yuri, who despite her usual tough exterior, would soften whenever she saw Y/N struggling. “I’ll help you with your homework later, okay?” Yuri offered, her voice calm and caring. “I know you’re not going to ask for help, but I’m here if you need it.”

And Minho… Minho was always there, always hovering just a little bit closer, his concern palpable every time he saw her try to move too fast or push herself too hard. He’d always make sure she didn’t overexert herself, offering to fetch her anything she needed, from coffee to a blanket.

One afternoon, after a particularly exhausting day of classes, Minho walked with her to the bench outside, where they could sit in the sun for a while. The rest of the group had scattered to finish their assignments or hang out with other people, leaving Y/N and Minho alone for the moment.

Y/N lowered herself onto the bench with a relieved sigh, her crutches resting against the side. Minho sat next to her, his body angled so he could face her, his hand immediately reaching for hers.

“You doing okay?” Minho asked, his voice gentle, his gaze soft. There was a warmth in his eyes, a quiet care that made Y/N’s heart flutter.

“I’m fine,” she said, trying to smile, but the exhaustion was evident on her face. “Just… tired. I miss playing volleyball. I hate being stuck like this.”

Minho’s thumb gently stroked over her hand, his touch soothing. “I know. I hate seeing you like this, too. But hey, you’re going to be back on the court before you know it. In the meantime, I’ve got your back.” He paused, then added with a playful smirk, “Literally. I’m carrying everything for you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but there was affection in the gesture. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

Minho’s expression softened. “But I’m your ridiculous, right?” He grinned, his gaze shifting to the walking boot on her foot. “And, just so you know, I don’t mind being your crutch in more ways than one.”

Y/N laughed softly, her eyes twinkling despite her frustration. “You’re so corny, Minho. But… I guess it’s kind of sweet, huh?”

He leaned closer, his lips brushing the top of her hand, making her heart skip a beat. “I’m serious, Y/N. Whatever you need, I’m here.”

And she knew, in that moment, that Minho truly meant it. He had always been there, standing by her side through thick and thin. It wasn’t just about carrying her backpack or helping her navigate campus on crutches. It was about being her support, her safe place. No matter what came next—no matter how many hurdles she faced—he was there, ready to help her get through it.

Later that evening, as they sat together in the library studying for finals, Minho had a way of keeping her mind off her injury. Every so often, he’d tease her about her “ridiculous crutch muscles,” and it would make her laugh, breaking the tension that had built up in her chest.

It wasn’t just the big things that mattered, but these small moments too. Minho carrying her backpack, holding her hand, offering her help without being asked. And though she was still adjusting to her injury, Y/N realized that sometimes the best kind of support came in the form of laughter, love, and the little things that made the hard days a bit easier.

With Minho by her side—and her incredible friends cheering her on—she knew she’d get through this injury, stronger and more determined than ever. After all, she wasn’t in this alone. And with that thought, her heart swelled, knowing that no matter what, she had a team behind her.

And that was more than enough.

The End.

[fa1ry03]

Under the lights

Author's Note: Hi! This is my very first piece, and I wanted to start with something short and heartfelt. It’s just a little blurb about comforting Joe Burrow after a tough loss because let’s be real—he deserves all the love after putting his heart on the field. I wanted to capture the mix of angst and tenderness that comes with moments like these, while keeping it intimate and meaningful.

I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think—your feedback means everything as I’m just starting this journey. Thanks for reading! 🧡🏈

(630 word count) Send in request plsss!

After the Game

The room was heavy with defeat. Joe sat slumped on the edge of the couch, still in his team-issued hoodie, his damp hair falling in loose strands across his forehead. The television flickered with highlights from the Steelers' win, each replay a fresh wound he didn’t want to acknowledge.

You leaned against the doorframe, watching him. He hadn’t said much since he walked in—just a gruff

“Hey”

before retreating into himself. You knew better than to push too soon. Joe’s quiet after a loss wasn’t unfamiliar, but tonight, it felt heavier, sharper.

Finally, you stepped forward, your socked feet barely making a sound on the hardwood floor. You plucked the remote from his side and turned the TV off.

“Joe,” you said softly, lowering yourself onto the couch beside him. “Talk to me.”

He didn’t look at you, his hands clasped together, knuckles white. “What’s there to say? I played like crap. We lost.”

“That’s not all on you.”

“Feels like it is,” he murmured, his voice rough. “The team counts on me. Fans count on me. And I... I let them down.”

The vulnerability in his tone broke your heart. You reached out, placing a hand on his thigh, grounding him in the moment. “You’re human, Joe. Not a machine. You cant carry the team by yourself, Jor”

He finally turned to look at you, his blue eyes clouded with frustration and self-doubt. “But I want to,” he said, his voice cracking. “I want to be better. For them. For you.”

“You are enough,” you said firmly, your fingers curling into the fabric of his sweatpants. “No game, no win or loss, changes that.”

The words hung in the air between you, and something in him softened. His shoulders dropped, and he exhaled a shaky breath.

“Come here,” you whispered, pulling him into your arms. He didn’t resist, burying his face in the curve of your neck, his large frame trembling slightly as he let go of the weight he’d been carrying. You held him close, running your fingers through his hair, murmuring reassurances until his breathing steadied.

“I don’t deserve you,” he muttered against your skin, his lips brushing your collarbone.

“Don’t start,” you teased gently, pulling back just enough to cup his face. “You’re stuck with me, Burrow.”

A ghost of a smile flickered across his face before his expression turned serious. “I mean it,” he said, his voice low, raw. “You’re my anchor, Y/N.”

You leaned in, pressing your forehead to his. “And you’re mine.”

The air between you shifted, charged with something deeper, more intimate. His hands slid up your sides, his touch featherlight but deliberate. You shivered, caught in the storm of his emotions.

“Let me take care of you tonight,” you murmured, your lips brushing his as you spoke.

He hesitated, his gaze searching yours, before finally surrendering. “I need you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

The night unfolded slowly, a tender exchange of love and comfort. You traced every scar, kissed away every doubt, and held him until the burden of the loss faded into something distant and unimportant.

In those quiet hours, the game didn’t matter. It was just you and Joe, wrapped in the safety of each other, rebuilding the confidence the world had tried to strip away.

😊

[mimzy630]

Today, October 18th, I'm saying happy birthday to my favorite Psyncer, Kuruto Ryuki!

The incredible @vividcitrus illustrated my transmasc Ryuki headcanon comfortably showing top surgery scars on the beach!

More on my story below the cut :)

Ryuki is absolutely the Psyncer I see myself in the most. I love all the Psyncers and really tons of the characters in AI: THE SOMNIUM FILES and nirvanA Initiative dearly, but Ryuki is the closest one I have to a kin.

When I first met him upon starting the game, I resonated immediately; he plays the somewhat asexual-coded straight-man to Tama's sexy routine which immediately endeared me, and his fluctuations between needing to prove himself and be the one to solve the case to being severely depressed at not being good enough... Yeah! No, hello, that's me lol.

I wasn't really a part of his little fanclub before release, but oh boy did I fall hard and fast for the scuffly little cutie, and that love only grew stronger as the game went on- seeing Ryuki getting so absorbed in his job he forgets himself, seeing him so focused on one way to solve things that he has to make impossible choices, seeing him get paralyzed by choice when it matters most... Yeah! I mean yeah that's all me yeah. Not to his extreme levels of course but oh yeah no every scene with him only made me love him more.

He's just adorable... Ahhh I want to put my hands through his hair... Ahem, anyways, as soon as I finished the game I was like damn... I might have a kinnie... And I don't think I'm exactly a Ryuki Kin per-se, but I do very much see myself when I look at him.

I am also transmasc! Specifically, agender, but who knows where my journey will take me. I have a hard time struggling to think of what I want to look like; I don't have a real sense of identity much at all, let alone visual identity. Most of my self-image is a big ole void.

But I know there are certain parts of me I'd love removed LOL to I reached out to m, the artist, and we chatted- I've always had a soft spot for transmasc Ryuki and been kinda hoping someone would draw him someday, so fuck it, I decided I make it happen myself. In the process of this commission, I forced myself to really think about how I'd want to look, how my scars would look, if I wanted nipple grafts, etc., and m was super happy to work with me on all of that!

The final version, with the more understated scars following the natural curve of the pecs that go from below the armpit to mid chest and no nipple grafts, makes me actually feel good... Like, hey, maybe someday I too could be topless on a beach, smiling and confident... It's a far-off dream that I have to save a lot for, but hey... That murky swirling void in my head has cleared up just a little bit, enough for me to be able to see a happier future for myself, and that's everything really.

I know I'll never look like Ryuki exactly, there are a lot of obstacles to this, but at the very least, when I find money and a surgeon, I can say "that. That's how I want to look, and that's how I'd feel looking like that." Which is more than I've ever been able to do! Dysphoria is my constant companion, but euphoria tends to elude me... @vividcitrus turned the tables on that!

[notyourhetloki]

Ken with a gn doll!reader love interest

Reader: gender neutral

/Ken x Doll!Reader/

A/N: Guess who's obsessed lol anyway... This is NOT spoiler free! In fact, this is set AFTER the movie! I gave Ken a redemption arc because I think he'd be willing to better himself so here you go...

Word Count: 1348

—

How it started:

You were hanging out with Allan at the beach when suddenly Ken approached you, waving and smiling as he spoke: “Hey Allan! Hey (Y/N)! Wanna play volleyball?”

Allan glanced nervously at you before you two agreed, following Ken through the sand.

The game was fun but you were losing, that is until you had the chance to score, jumping up in the air and striking the ball with full force… hitting Ken right in his face.

He dramatically fell back, face covered with his hands while groaning. You quickly ran to him, kneeling on the sand and patting his shoulder. “Ken! Are you okay??”

He revealed his face, slowly blinking while examining you. You worried he was mad... you were new in Barbieland and didn’t want to make any enemies. What if he hated you?

“That… was… AWESOME. How did you learn to plunge like that??” Ken gave you a big smile, and you couldn’t help but reciprocate.

How it went:

You had been hanging out with Ken a lot lately, spending time at the beach or at your Dream House (all dolls had their own house now, including Kens). He even invited you to his Mojo Dojo Casa House (yes he still called it that) to watch some movies, and you gladly accepted.

He was nice to be around, always glad to help with whatever you needed and always excited for your next activity together. He was goofy and made you laugh, which made him feel good about himself.

And because the way to his heart was through his ego, you two became best friends as soon as you started complimenting him. He even admired you back, making you feel all fuzzy inside.

Ken was ridiculously charming, and you felt yourself falling harder with each moment you spent side by side. But, you had to remind yourself you were not Barbie, and he was Ken... He couldn't possibly be interested in you... right?

Besides, you knew he had a lot to learn yet. After the incident with Kendom and the whole patriarchy thing, he started studying sociology and began a journey to better himself, and you were happy to be there to help.

You reminded him of his daily mantras ("I'm kenough") and accompanied him every time he visited the library for more books. Ken cringed while you reminded him about the past. “At least you apologized to Barbie, right?”

“…”

“RIGHT?”

And just like that the two of you were on an adventure to the Real World, for Ken had a very important mission.

—

You had never been on rollerblades before, so as you arrived at the Real World, you started to wobble. Luckily, Ken caught your hand and continued to hold it, helping you balance. You felt heat rising to your cheeks, blushing at the unexpected touch and intimacy. (Unbeknownst to you, Ken was blushing hard as well, trying not to think much of it. You were just friends, right? This was normal… right?)

You both found Barbie, and you were proud to hear Ken’s apology as he spoke. “I’m… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything, Barbie. For trying to install patriarchy in Barbieland, for stealing your house, for all of it! You don’t need to accept my apologies, but I just needed you to know that I’m trying to better myself every day, and (Y/N) is helping me with that!” While Ken looked ashamed, Barbara looked shocked.

In the end, she accepted his apologies and smiled at you as you waved your goodbyes.

Ken felt immense relief and happiness now that he took this new step in his self-growth journey. He was so happy in fact, that he felt like holding your hand again. You both looked at each other and smiled, hearts racing and faces blushing.

—

You were in his Mojo Dojo Casa House, chatting and giggling like teenagers. Ken started asking about you, very interested in everything you had to say. He was fascinated and wanted to know more about you, and soon he caught himself asking more intimate things. “So… do you have a girlfriend? Or… a boyfriend? I mean… I don’t know, are you even into Kens? I mean…” he stuttered as you laughed.

“No, I don’t have a girlfriend or boyfriend… in fact, I never had a significant other before…”

Ken’s blue eyes grew wide, mouth slightly agape as he slid closer to you. “Oh… really?”

“I mean… I’m not a Barbie, not a Ken… not sure I’m even supposed to have someone.” You suddenly grew a little sad at that, being so vulnerable with Ken all of a sudden.

You looked down in shame, but Ken quickly lifted your chin up so you looked at him. His expression was fond, eyes roaming through your face and finally landing on your lips. He grew closer and for a moment you actually thought he would kiss you.

But he didn’t, he stopped and moved back, suddenly a bit confused and anxious. “Ha… I’m… I’m sure you’ll find someone eventually…” he said with an awkward smile.

How it ended:

Ken was desperate when he asked Allan for help. He was so confused, so… eager. He had never felt this way before, not even with Barbie. You were different, you listened to him, inspired him to become a better person, spent your valued time with him and you two had so much fun together! He felt genuinely happy around you, and in the last times you hung around, he felt the deepest urge to kiss you. This desire had been growing the more he tried pushing it away, so he decided to ask for help.

“I mean… (Y/N) is not a Barbie, and I’m Ken! It doesn’t make sense, right?”

Allan looked at him with slight confusion as he responded. “I mean… there are truly no rules, it’s not like there’s a book written somewhere that Kens should only date Barbies.”

Ken was left starstruck because I mean, Allan was right. There are no such rules in Barbieland, that was just something everyone assumed one day. “Thank you, Allan!” He hugged his friend before heading out.

—

Ken invited you on a beach date night and you happily agreed. You two sat on the sand as you watched the waves, but he only had eyes for you.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” You wondered about the sea and the stars. “Yeah…” he answered, not looking at them.

Slowly, Ken moved his fingers to touch yours, and while turning your head to look at him, you let your hands completely meet.

Your heart beat fast as he smiled that gorgeous smile of his, cheeks rosy and eyes glowing blue as he finally spoke. “(Y/N)… can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Ken.” You smiled in anticipation.

He looked down, doubting himself a bit before looking up again and almost whispering. “Can I kiss you?”

At that moment everything made sense, and you couldn’t help the big smile on your face as you spoke. “Of course!”

He matched your smile and squeezed your hand in excitement before turning away a bit and fist-pumping the air, then turning back with a more collected expression on his face.

Ken stared at your mouth before leaning in, and you leaned as well. Slowly, you met in the middle and finally kissed. Gentle, he grinned against your lips.

The first kiss was quick, but as you stopped and looked into each other’s eyes, he came back crushing onto your mouth, not wanting to be separate anymore. Ken took your face into his hands and you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

You both needed to breathe eventually, so you parted. You took the opportunity to ask a very important question. “Ken? Would you…would you like to be my boyfriend?”

Ken gasped, his eyes growing wide and teary as he held your hands in his. “That would be the coolest thing to ever happen to me… yes!”

The two of you hugged tight, and for the first time in forever, everything felt just right.

—