#like its babies first drawing or something

[westside-rot]

Therapy Hours

Pairing: husband!terry richmond x black fem!reader

Words: 3.7k words

Summary: Terry seeks comfort from the only person who can give it to him.

Notes: Minors DNI. Smut, oral: fem receiving (0ver-stimulation) and cursing. Light by my standards lol. I had to force myself to stop revising this so please forgive any errors. I'll find em eventually and fix it. 😭 In the future I plan on alternating between fluff and smut so the next one should be fluffy/angsty.

Also please don't repost this on any other sites. Reblogs/comments/likes make me happy.

Tags: @megamindsecretlair @melaninpov

Something isn’t right. You look over to the side and discover the space occupied by your husband is empty. He was there a moment ago, proud and silent in his admiration for you while you sat mesmerized by the view. This picnic was the culmination of a month-long struggle to find balance with work and each other. All you cared about was reconnecting with him in a garden straight out of a fairytale for as long as possible, forever if you had it your way. Now he was nowhere to be found.

You rationalize his absence by assuming he must’ve forgotten something in the car. Likely an item you’d noticed earlier and convinced yourself not to purchase. Satisfied with your answer you lay back on your thick cotton blanket face to the infinite stretch of blue, uninterrupted by clouds with your arms and legs stretched out in opposite directions as far they'll comfortably reach. That’s when you notice the dress you’d been wearing has somehow vanished as well.  You don’t bother pursuing logic this time. It’s beautiful outside and warmed to the ideal temperature for sunbathing. Now you’re a part of that beauty, perfectly made and carefree.

The sun’s warmth penetrates your brown skin and you relax into a gratified acceptance with your eyes closed and a smile on your face. A breeze grazes your skin. You part your legs to it exploration. It's subtle at first then harder as it sweeps up your legs and fixates on your intimate parts. You moan as your hips begin to move in a sensual dance interrupted by something you can’t name. Then you realize the golden reddish hue behind your eyelids is gone. It's dark, darker than it should be for the time of day. You find it impossible to care with so much pleasure running through your system. It doesn’t matter who or what is responsible for your predicament. They can keep you so long as they promise never to stop.

The unknown force answers with more delicious suction. It draws your body into a tight arch and pulls the breath from your lungs. Breathing is pointless where you’re headed. While your brain can’t fathom the destination, it doesn’t get in the way of supplication once you're finally pushed over the edge.  

"Terry..." You moan the name forever present in your heart and mind. His location is still unknown, you trust him to always find you.

"I’m here love." The voice is muffled. You recognize its owner the second you hear it.   The pleasurable void you’ve fallen into rematerializes as soft sheets against your back. Everything else gradually comes into focus, your husband's massive hands anchored on your waist, the prick of his facial hair as his tongue and lips move along your slick folds made warm by each labored breath he takes. Your eyes reset themselves forward as you attempt to reorient your place in the real world, a simple task made difficult by his unwillingness to pull his tongue from your drenched hole. Delirious but still guided by habit you manage to catch sight of the alarm clock on your nightstand. 3:00am.

"Shit…We have to be up in a few more hours--" Your hands act in contradiction to your words, pulling him in closer by the neck to keep him on the right spot. "Baby..."

"I know." He flattens his tongue against your clit and latches on. You realize he's responding to the urgency in your voice and not the truth you’re attempting to speak.

Where your first orgasm was tempered by your dream, the second attacks your senses at full force. His strong capable hands absorb the shock as they hold you in place.  It's several minutes before your thrashing subsides to gentle undulations from the heavy breaths passing through your body. His fingers knead the flesh around your waistline. Even though his lips are still dangerously close to your pussy you feel more like the wife he’s attempting to soothe and less like the midnight snack you've been made into. You melt among the pillows with your eyes closed one hand loosely cradling the back of his head, the other bent and draped across your face as he makes out with your inner thighs. It takes you a while to recover your voice, a little longer to remember what you intended to say next.

"What’s wrong papa? Did your regret for not playing with me earlier finally wake you up?”

He doesn’t speak right away. The answer reaches you in the silence long before his words give confirmation.

"I’d take regret over these dreams I keep having. They’re getting worse."

Six months ago, Terry nearly lost his life attempting to protect his cousin. His outer wounds have healed up nicely. It's the scars left on his soul that provoke your bloodlust. If you had your way those piece of shit cops would’ve received their karma long before the worst happened. Mike would be alive. The man you love, a man accustomed to sleeping peacefully by your side every night wouldn’t be routinely attacked by demons you couldn’t see.

Most nights you’re promoted to the role of big spoon. You hate the circumstances, but it settles the panic in your heart to hold your mountain of a man in your arms and grant him the protection he’s given you over the years. Tonight, he's found a different way to cope, a method worth keeping in your toolbelt even if it means resembling a zombie for the rest of the day.

"Baby I’m sorry. You should’ve woken me up." You reach down to massage his ears with both thumbs before attempting to bring him to eye level. He resists by nuzzling his face in your thigh.

"Technically I did wake you up." He mumbles, filtering kisses between increasingly labored breaths. The path his lips are taking force you into a conundrum. Press the issue or trust his methods. Brains weren’t meant to work this hard at this hour. It’s cruel and unfair when you realize Terry isn’t weighted down by the same predicament. Every time his breath passes over your sensitive lips you feel your logic slipping further away. He’s giving you a reason to forget and move on. You’re also his wife. The one person on this shitty planet he can always rely on, the only person crazy enough to sacrifice a third orgasm so close after the second to protect his heart from the lie he was attempting to maintain.

You find a compromise in the minute that passes, maybe two. It’s hard to separate the details when he’s making every attempt to bury his face in your pussy. You struggle to be assertive. It’s the desperation in your voice when you say his name that eventually gets him to lift his head.

The room is dark, the moonlight casts a glow across the top half of his face just enough to see his eyes. He reminds you of a sad puppy being chastised for something they don’t understand. The expression breaks your heart and makes you smile as you stroke his jawline, your upturned lips on full display to match his sad look.

“I need to make sure you’re okay and not telling me what you think I need to hear. We deal with this together. Not apart.”

He nods and turns his face into your hand to kiss your palm. There's an uncomfortable silence in the room, but you remain patient, resisting the urge to pry the answer from his now visibly tense body.

“I dreamed I lost you.” His delayed response is both a relief and heartbreaking as the previous dreams he’s shared replay in your mind. All include some variation of him being imprisoned. None include a happy ending for him or for Mike. Leaning down to kiss the top of his head, you mimic his vice like hold once he buries his face in your stomach.

Regret mixes with the anger you were already struggling to contain. It fills the room, ensnaring you in contradictory thoughts. Sit on his face to make you both feel better or do what Terry refused to and murder the men responsible for making him feel anything less than a hero, for desecrating the space in his heart reserved for the people he loved.  You could only really be mad at yourself for pressing the issue. Orgasms were a far better reward than listening to the gruesome details of your presumed demise. Given what he's been through your mind takes you to the worse possible options. You’re prepared to listen but aren’t sure how you'll get back to sleep afterward this.

"Nothing is going to happen to me." You soothe him with more kisses and tender reassurances. He answers with a tighter grip like he’s expecting something to challenge your words.

"We fought about everything…” He starts. You prepare for the story to get progressively worse. “One day you show up with some random ass light skinned fucker with a crooked hairline. I’m thinking he’s the new gardener only to find out you’re leaving me for him. You kicked me out. Had me sleeping in a tent in the backyard while some bum ass bitch wore my clothes and fucked my wife. Losing you is one thing. Losing you to a leprechaun who can’t grow a proper beard is bullshit."

 You were anticipating having your throat slashed or a hole torn in your chest by a monster you couldn’t outrun. This was somehow worse because Terry was dead serious yet nothing he said warranted a serious response.

"Ok, first of all, you’re light skinned too."

Clearly you were being tested and failing miserably. You'd taken a deep breath in the hopes of drawing something positive and meaningful into your thoughts. All you managed to do was bring up a past hilarious debate about him being caramel and not chocolate like he proclaimed himself to be. Terry’s head shot up like someone had lit a fire underneath him. You can feel him staring you down and instantly crack under the pressure.

"Be serious woman."

The poor man is clearly traumatized. You bite down on your cheek for his sake before giving him a direct view of your face, wide eyed and filled with doctored innocence that crumbles by the second. “I’m trying!” You fuss. “But you’re being awfully specific about this man's appearance."

"I saw the fucker clear as day like I’ve seen him before…I’m taking you to work. Might even stay just to be safe."

The conviction in his voice tells you not to brush off his words.  You can imagine him now posted up in your office surveying the area. He wouldn’t hover or say much, his domineering presence and chiseled muscles on full display would guarantee no woman within a 30-mile radius was productive. You would be at the top of the list. Unlike half the women in your office you had zero decorum in your husband’s presence. The last thing you needed were your colleagues gossiping about you getting fucked in your office.

"My dear sweet husband aren’t you being a little unreasonable?” Posing the question in a song doesn’t have the desired effect. It merely gives him a reason to frown harder.

"Hell no. I’m not taking anything for granted anymore, especially when it pertains to you. Far as I’m concerned this was a message from God to protect my home.”

There’s plenty to laugh at. Even less to challenge. You were looking at your answered prayer, a literal message from God to prove men like Terry weren’t a fantasy. This one was real and more than you could’ve hoped for. In honor of that gift you smile and nod in agreement and prepare to be followed everywhere.

“I can’t say you’re wrong. I can tell you no one at work fits the description.” He ponders while you stroke his neck. He isn’t silent for long.

“He could be a new security guard or the person delivering the mail."

"Mhm, I could forgive the wrinkles in a UPS uniform. Something about those brown shorts makes me feral. I’m getting wet thinking em." The laugh you’ve been holding sputters from you, putting tears in your eyes.

Terry sucks his teeth and gestures to raise up completely. He doesn’t get far when you throw your arms around his neck. He grunts but lets you have your way. "It's not funny."

"You’re right baby. It's not.  Dream me is a dumb ass bitch. I’d never leave you, especially not for an obviously unattractive man with tiny feet and a crooked hair line. You’re so pretty daddy. No one with sense would ever look anywhere else." You lean forward to coax a smile from him with a kiss. You feel his jaw loosen and his fingers grip up your ass. "I love you."

All the humor in your voice is gone, replaced with an unmistakable sincerity that eases Terry back to the calm levelheaded man he's always been. "You’re taking the necessary steps to heal. It's not something you'll ever forget but you’re going to be okay. We both are. The fact we can laugh about any of this is progress. Now I’ll promise to keep my sidepiece out the house you pay bills in if you promise not to stalk me from the parking lot."

He chuckles. "Promise."

It's nearly 4am. In two more hours you'll have to be up for work. Hardly enough time for a decent rest but your body will hate you if you don’t try to get back to sleep. You kiss your husband one last time and gently lay a hand on his chest to pull away only to be met with resistance.

"Wait. I still need to prove it to myself."

"Prove what baby?"

“That you won’t give up on me. That I won’t lose you." He speaks against your lips, his voice moving through you like the low rumble before a storm. It stirs up the lust cast aside for his benefit. You feel it in your belly and everywhere his tongue has been.  The energy in the room changes with the dark look in his eyes. He drinks you in saying nothing and everything with his calculated gaze. Awareness pricks at your skin off the strength of his possession moves. Then his hands are on you, lowering your arms from around his neck to your sides. He seizes your waist and hums as if contemplating something. Before you can ask the question, you lose the words in the swift rearrangement on to your stomach. You gasp from the shock while the rest of you uses all your energy to push against the sturdy fingers holding your wrists down. Freedom isn’t your goal. You resist solely to reinforce his dominance and feed your desire to test his nature. You want him to stake his claim and issue a warning to anyone daring to look in your direction even if the rival in question is a phantom conjured up by his subconscious.

Handcuffs aren’t an option for obvious reasons. You wonder if binding your hands together with rope will achieve the same shuddering response to being cloaked with his weight. You’re completely helpless and content to stay right where you are, one with mattress, one with him.

"Say you'll never leave me." His warm breath passes over your ear before his teeth sink down on flesh.

"I'll never leave you." You whisper back, moaning appreciatively when he kisses down the column of your neck down between your shoulder blades. His hands aren’t pinning you down anymore, but you try your best not to move as his tongue traces a warm and agonizingly slow line down your spine to your ass.

"I’ve never taken a life. I will if it means keeping you safe…You belong to me " Terry had taken down an entire police force without sending anyone to hell where they belonged. It was comical to think a man she never met; a man who didn’t exist could provoke him to use lethal force. The unexpected sting of teeth clamping down on your backside jolts you out of your musing. He's fully awake now, unfettered by slumber and past traumas. He doesn’t need to be gentle or ask for permission. The pain from that discovery offers an indescribable contribution to the pleasure you’ve experienced thus far. You can’t distinguish the two anymore the harder he bites.

"Yes." It's an reiteration and an apology for earlier all wrapped up in jarring acceptance. This isn’t the man you fell asleep next to hours ago. You aren’t the same either. His influence has unlocked a part of your brain that craves the pain and the pleasure it brings. If branding you with his teeth will bring him peace you want that too.

You moan and arch toward your captor’s mouth. He answers the invitation with a growl, yanking you on to your knees, driving your face into the comforter to deepen the arch in your back. You’re already spread obscenely open. He spreads you further with his thumbs and stops moving. He’s probably smiling in that subtle way you catch when he thinks no one’s watching. This isn’t quite the same. He's taunting you with proximity, close enough to feel the heat from his breath, far enough away to create an ache only he could soothe.

"Please." He's reduced you to this, folded in half and shameless in your attempts to reach his mouth. When he does finally lick his way inside everything else in the world melts away.

He's merciful but also deliberate in the way flattens the wide breadth of his tongue along the length of you, slurping you up like ripe fruit he intends to savor. All you can do is shudder and mewl as he groans into your slick heat, rubbing his face in it, masking himself with your scent. The message isn’t for you. It's for him. You hope it soothes the disquiet in his heart the way it's cleared out the baggage in your mind. All thoughts lead back to him, the thorough way he draws tight circles over your clit and the depths he reaches as he simulates the way he would fuck you if he had the willpower to trade places with his tongue.

He makes himself comfortable, stretching out his legs alongside your writhing body. His ankles provide a stable anchor for trembling hands. Then they’re caging you in, limiting your range of movement.

The sheets absorb your screams as you cum without warning and no sign it’ll end any time soon. You push toward his face at the same rate you pull away. Escape isn’t the goal. It's the only proper response to sensory overload. Indescribably good and too much to handle all at once. Terry is right there with you, latched on and undeterred by your frenetic movements, grunting indecipherable praise despite the pressure your thighs have placed on his ears.  At this rate you’re going to claw the sheets to shreds or beat a hole in the mattress. Then he's putting his entire body into it, crossing his ankles behind your head to lock you in place.

Weeks ago, you expressed an interest in learning Jiu-Jistu. You expected detailed commentary while you observed from the sidelines or watched a video. This wasn’t how you envisioned your first lesson or any lesson. You weren’t even sure if this was a legit move or something he’d improvised. The absurdity of it doesn’t register correctly in your mind. Instead you’re grateful, grateful for his strength, for his persistence, for his ability to find healing through forced orgasms even it’s obvious he’s lost his mind in the process. Unlike the dream version you take your vows seriously. You accept Terry at his best and his worst, through nightmares and a demonic possession. 

Panic opens your mind to a ridiculous thought. He's going to kill you.  The irrational part of your brain is convinced you won’t survive another orgasm. You can’t bring yourself to resist the rapid strumming on your clit and the spike in pleasure it produces. You’d gladly give your life for it. Leave earth with a smile on your lips and a memory worth immortalizing in the afterlife. To call your bluff Terry brings his thumb from your fluttering hole to the soft flesh of your ass.  He prolongs the suspense with teasing swipes around the rim then very slowly pushes through your defenses when he feels you’re ready for it. Something in your brain malfunctions. You start to whine like a caught animal. They’re the kind of sounds you’d find embarrassing if you weren’t in the presence of a grown ass man.

The last thing you hear before you explode is Terry’s deep voice in your ear. "Good girl."

When you return to consciousness, you’re still face down with a damp spot under your cheek and under your pelvis. Terry is stretched across your back crooning in your ear about how proud he is of you, how beautiful you are, how in love with you he is. His touch is equally soothing as he trails down your forearms to interlock your fingers. You haven’t stopped trembling. It’s worse in your legs. Even the slightest movement revives the memory of where his tongue has been. You find comfort in the fetal position anyway. Terry is right there to reinforce the hold, cradling you with his entire body so he doesn’t lose you in the subspace you’ve drifted off to. When the consequence of his overindulgence subsides to a light shudder you feel his coiled lips at your temple.

“Are you proud of yourself?”  

“Maybe.” He drawls, the pride evident in his voice. “You’re still shaking baby. Are you good? Did I hurt you?

“Of course you didn’t. I’m a little floaty but I kinda want you to break me again--just to make sure I like it.” You offer a lazy smile and reach back to scratch his cheek. "What about you? Are you finally convinced I won’t run off with your ugly ass replacement?”

His laughter sounds like music.  You wonder how he can find the joy in anything with his stiff dick left unattended and drooling precum on your backside. It’s all you can think about now.

"I am."

"Good because it’s never going to happen. I’m also not going to work today. I can’t function like this." Despite your predicament you use the distraction to your advantage and raise your thigh to accommodate him. A little maneuvering slots the tip between your lips but doesn't quite make it inside. You whimper and try again.

“No. You’ve had enough sweetheart.” You’re more than a little disappointed when he pushes your legs shut. 

“I can keep going. Let me take care of you.”

“You have taken care of me baby.” A kiss is all it takes to end your pouting. Like a greedy brat, you twist around to claim another, then one more to sample your flavor on his lips. His dick stirs against you, it doesn’t persuade him to be anything less than noble. “I plan on keeping you in this bed all day.  Get some rest. I’ll have you later.”

Terry’s demeanor remains unchanged as he realigns your back to his chest and slips is muscled leg over your restless ones. He’s given you a preview, a reminder, and a warning. You aren’t sure how well you’ll sleep knowing what you know but you snuggle up to his arm tucked beneath the pillow.

“I love you.”

Those three words calm the restlessness in your heart and get you to shut your eyes. 

"I love you too handsome. Try not to dream about me."

[theallianceofcelestials]

What if SEA! Eclipse turned into a cat /silly

Ah yes, the most important question of all /silly

It'd happen as an accident obviously, and no one but him would realise what was wrong. All the other researchers would panic, becuase researcher Eclipse is fucking gone and we're all going to be fucking murdered.

Someone, probably some clean-up person or guard, would try coaxing this randomly appeared red, black and gold cat with the weird gold eyes and the funky fur lining the head into a carriage of sorts so it can be taken away and studied. Eclipse wouldn't be impresses by it, and would dip.

He'd obviously aim for the family room, even if halfway there he realises that one, he can't talk, two, he's a cat, and three, his family has no reason to believe it's not just some random cat. He's at least aware Bloodmoon wouldn't attempt to attack him, because Sun really loves cats. Aside from that, he's in the dark. But he can't exactly think of anywhere else to go.

He'd probably still be an animatronic, but with artifical fur and all that niceness. He's still in great discomfort, because this is not his ideal kind of deal.

The reactions to a random cat showing up at their doorstep, followed by a panicking guard, would not go down well, especially when the family learns Eclipse disappeared.

Sun'd pick up the cat though, forbidding anyone from harming the precious fur baby. He'd take one look at the unusual cat, and fall in love immediately. That's his kitty now. He'd cuddle it and snuggle it and make ridiculous outfits for it and give it treatsies and play with it and bathe it and- (Someone please get Eclipse out of this one! Something is clearly more wrong with his sunny uncle if he acts like this!)

Moon on the other hand would want the cat, if only to study it a but because that thing was in place of his nephew who disappeared. He doesn't plan on hurting it, he just wants to take a quick look at it and see if he can glean anything from it. He'd obviously be barred from the cat because of this. (Eclipse really tries his best to get to him though, yowling and crying despite his pride whenever they're separated. Eventually he gives up, because he's ignored and dismissed as a silly animal)

Killcode would not take the disappearance of his kid well, he'd be mostly out, trying to get him back with his magical expertise. He also doesn't trust the Foundation to do this without him nudging them. Whenever he's around he'd give quick pets to the cat that reminds him so much of Eclipse for some reason. (Eclipse is not amused, especially because these are his attempts to communicate he's here, thanks, someone get him to Moon please)

Bloodmoon would not attack the strange cat that fleed here. They'd attempt to do the same things they do for the other cats, and they're flabbergasted when the cat refuses the extra food. Clearly they're doing something wrong! So they sit back and observe. They notice how the cat seems to gravitate towards chocolate, and despite them knowing that's poisonous for cats, they indulge the little thing. They're incredibly happy when it warms up to them, rubbing against them with loud purrs. (Look, Eclipse may be in a cat shaped body, but some things just don't change. He also deserves a reward for putting up with this bullshit)

Solar Flare's first act would be comparing the cat drawing Eclipse started and they finished to the cat that's now in their room. It'd be kind of freaking out over the similarities. But it seems to like them, curling up in his lap and purring whenever it scratches behind its ears, and they're just so tentatively happy to have a cat that likes them, it's kind of worried it'll scare the kitty. (Look, Eclipse needs the quiet it can offer even as an animatronic. It's only natural he'd come to it more now that everything's louder)

Lunar likes this strange, funky looking cat maybe a bit too much. But what can he say! It's grumpy and red, so it might as well be Eclipse! The cat seems to like that name too! And if he does it to mask his growing fear and panic, well who's going to know? (Eclipse is crying. They're literally referring to him by his godfucking name, and they still don't get it. He loves his siblings, and he loves Sun, but by god, are they really dumb sometimes! The only intelligent people are either A, kept away from him, or B, staying out and coming back late and tired and thus basically useless)

The biggest surprise for him would be how he understands the cats now. He's a little freaked out by Tux's apparent word domination dreams, and even more sure Midnight is brainless. He'd keep away from them, a hard task once they realise who he is, and they start bugging him about how they should change their treatment once Eclipse is back to normal, because clearly, them not getting snacks constantly and having a cat whistle is bad. Eclipse just smiles and nods, then escapes.

Once he turns back to normal, by the grace of Moon going to Killcode to tell him his suspicions that their missing family member might be closer than they think, he's entirely unamused, unimpressed, angry and humiliated. So is everyone once they realise what happened. Moon is smug for weeks, while Sun can't even look his nephew in the optics. His siblings all suddenly have trouble with that too.

[megs-1800]

Take Care Of You

Notes: I have had this in my drafts forever. I am so glad I finally finished it. Send me some requests as I am struggling with ideas on what to write. (Y/F/T - Your Football Team). Reader is a Fem footballer who plays for a Mens team.

Summary: You play for a men's football team in which your team draws against Man United in the FA cup. You and Mason have been dating for 8 months but keeping your relationship a secret. When one of the United players tackle you and cause you a fatal injury will Mason be able to keep his call or will everyone find out about your secret relationship?

Pairings: Mason Mount x Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, mentions of injuries and blood. Implied Smut.

I can feel my eyes slowly open as I hear my alarm going off, I quickly reach over to the bedside table and turn it off groaning as the tiredness overwhelmed me. As I let out a stretch I felt a body next to me and all the memories from last night come flooding back. I turn and see Mason giving me a sleepy smile “Last night was incredible” he mutters “you know we are both going to get into the shit for having sex the night before a game if anyone finds out”.

I shake my head and give Mason a lazy kiss “I don’t care it was totally worth it. To be honest I still have plenty of energy for another round” which I give Mason a suggestive wink and bring him closer. I can hear him utter a groan “Umm you are so irresistible Y/N” he says trailing his fingers up and down my body sending shivers down my spine. “But we both have got to play 90 minutes today and I need to be in my best form especially if I gotta play against you”. I hum into Mason knowing he was right and giving him another kiss.

We lay there for another 5 minutes just embracing eachother, Mason reaches over and taps his phone looking at the time and slowly pulls away. “I really need to get going I need to go back to the hotel and get showered and changed and meet the boys before the game.”

“I know I just really don’t you want to leave” I give Mason a pouty face. As Mason gets dressed.

“I know baby I really don’t either, how about after the game I come back here? The boys are travelling back but I can stay here if you are happy with that? We can have tomorrow off together?”

I nod in agreement to Mason and give him another kiss as he leans over me on the bed. “Sounds perfect! I would wish you could luck for today but I don’t really mean it” I joked and shoot Mason a wink.

“I love you baby girl” Mason shoots me a smile as he walks out the door.

“I love you more Mase” I quickly reply so he can hear me.

I hear his car pull away from the driveway and I know I need to get up too. I quickly stretch and make my way into the shower. I look in the mirror see the bright purple hickey on my neck I am going to have fun covering that up I thought. As I get into the shower I let the hot water heat me as I put my head back to rest on the tiles as I let myself relive last night.

Mason and I have been dating for 8 months, it was still relatively new and due to this we wanted to keep it private. We have met eachothers families and a couple of close friends but apart from that we have kept it out of the media. Its been difficult to have to keep sneaking around but we both know its for the best at the moment. I am a professional footballer playing for Y/T/N you play upfront as a striker and are widely known as you are the only girl to play for a mens professional team. Today you have drawn Man United at home in the FA cup, everyone is so excited but you are nervous having to play against Mason, it will be the first time you are not rooting for eachother and will be playing against eachother.

I can feel the nerves hit, it’s a massive game today and it’s the quarter finals. I feel like I have something more to prove being a girl. We are doing the warm ups on the pitch, it’s a nice March afternoon and the sun is shining so I hope luck is on our side.

I can feel the tension in the tunnel, I am jumping up and down and doing my thigh stretches before the game. The captain is shouting words of enthusiasm to try                                                                                                and get us pumped. I can see the Man United team line up next to me. I can see Mason a couple of players down he gives me a little smile and a little wink, which I return with a warm smile. I quickly turn away trying not to blush. That’s when I hear one of the Man United guys shout “Jheez look at that piece of ass” I turn around to notice that it is one of United’s new signings Blaze Pama he is their newly appointment defender. I am used to being sexualised as I am playing in the men’s team but never before from the opposition, I roll my eyes and I can see Mason shoot him a look of disgust but then one of our players steps in “yeah and watch how that piece of ass tear you apart on that field” I quickly mouth a thank you to him which he responds with “we always got your back”. All the team are like my protective brothers they always make sure I am shielded.

I can hear the music and that’s when we walk onto the pitch, we are set up ready for kick off and I feel my eyes drifting to Mason which he catches me staring and gives me a quick funny look in return, I know catching me staring at him has boosted his ego. I just hope I can keep my head in the game.

It gets to half time and I am knackered, maybe Mason was right maybe we shouldn’t of slept together last night. Now I know why they put that rule in place. We are listening to the gaffer give his half time team talk. He turns to me “Y/N you are having the best game! I know you keep getting those little tugs and fowls by that Pama but just ignore him do not let yourself retaliate” I nod my head in agreement I think he has seen how fed up I am getting of the fouled.

Its currently a 0-0 draw, we are impressed that we have not conceded yet. On paper Man United have the better team but we are working so hard. I have had a couple of chances which one of the was cleared right off the line by Onana. I am having one of my best games of the season.

We are out ready for the second half which Pana looks at me across the pitch and licks his lips, I scowl at him and roll my eyes. Mason catches my looks and turns his gaze to see what I am looking at. He walks straight over to Pana “come on leave her alone mate” Pana looks confused at Mase “that’s what we are supposed to be doing! I am getting in her head. Why do you care anyway you fucking it or something?” Mase doesn’t reply and walks away, Pana is new to the team and hasn’t settle in well, Mason wasn’t his biggest fan and after his actions he really hasn’t gone up in his ratings.

The ref’s whistle blows indicating the start of the 2nd half, Pana continues to keep giving me knocks and unnecessary tackles I am trying my best not to retaliate but he is causing it difficult he isn’t playing football he just playing dirty. United score within the first 10 minutes of the second half, great cross from Mason which Højlund buries at the back of the net. Our keeper kicks the ball to me and I place it on the centre stop “come on Boys we can do this!” I shout back in encouragement. United are now on fire after their goal throwing everything at us. They are through on goal which our defender makes an excellent tackle and kicks the ball up field to me, I bring the ball down and keep running. I can see Mason is picking up the pace to keep up with me, that’s when Mason puts his legs out and wins the ball. I topple over the top of his feet and he runs off with the ball. I  quickly get up and wipe myself down and run after Mason. The ball is kicked out of play and Mason quickly tuns to me and mouths a “sorry” my heart warms that even playing against me he apologised.

We are now in added on time and we are throwing everything at the ball, we are all having shots just trying to get a sneaky goal. The board goes up and confirms there is only 2 mins of added on time. We get a corner, I am stood on the penalty spot and I can feel my shirt being pulled “come on ref for fuck sake how many times?!” I am shouting, Pama turns to me “shout up you little bitch! You shouldn’t be on the pitch anyway” I turn around and shove him “fuck off will you!” I shout back at Pama I have had enough. The ref blows the whistle and tells us to break it up. I bring my attention back to the corner that is about to be taken.

I am watching the ball the whole way, then in the corner of my eye I see Pama’s studs its too late for me to move out the way and as the ball hits my head his studs connect with the side of my face. I go down screaming in pain. I watch as our players screaming at the ref for a penalty, which the ref confirms its being checked by VAR and then all the players attentions turn to me.

I am still screaming in pain, Mason is already with me “let me look! Let me look” which I can hear the panic in his voice. I put my head up and I can feel the blood running down my face. “hey you are going to be okay yeah” Mason tries to reassure me but he doesn’t sound too convincing,  a couple more of our players come over and inspect my face. They all calling for the physios over. Mason walks straight to Pama “What the fuck man!” and shoves Pama, Bruno pulls Mason away straight before it gets heated. “There was no need for that!” he tries to explain to Bruno “he probably has given away a pen!” Mason tries to cover up the fact that he hurt his girl. Bruno tells him to walk away.

Mason walks over to where I am sitting, blood staining the ground. I can feel myself getting light headed from the loss of blood. They are trying to patch me up, but when the physio’s are asking me questions and follow their fingers I cannot do it, I feel so weak from the hit. The physio’s shake their head towards to the captain and I see the worry in Mason’s eyes. I mouth a quick I am okay to him to try and reassure him. I can feel the tears running down my face alongside the blood due to the pain. We can see the ref listening to the piece in his ear which he points to the spot awarding us a penalty and give Pana a red card. I can hear our fans excited about the penalty and giving Pana verbal abuse as he walks off.

“Do you think you can walk?” the physio’s ask. I shake my head ���I-I don’t know I can t-try” I reply. I slowly get up with the help of my players and I can see Mason trying to give me space to not make it too obvious we are a couple but his eyes do not leave mine as I walk off the pitch. I am taken straight down the tunnel to get medical attention from our physio’s.

We score the penalty meaning it is taken to penalties. United win on penalties unfortunately. I watch the game from the TV in the medical room. As soon as the game is finished I see my phone buzz. I look down and see a message from Mase:

Mase: How are you feeling? X

Y/N: I have been better.. but considering everything I am doing okay thank you for having my back out there x

Mase: Of course I will always protect you. Did you want to leave tonight if you not feeling great? X

Y/N: Don’t be silly my brother said he will drop me off as I cannot drive but I would love to meet you there. I just want to be in your arms right now xx”

Mase: Okay take it easy and I cannot wait to see that beautiful face. I love you xx

Y/N: I love you too xx

My brother drives me back home once they have stitched me up, the drive was relatively quiet with just my brother chatting about how if he gets hold of Pama he is a dead man which makes me laugh. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” My brother asks as we pull up outside my house. “Thanks for the offer but Mase has come over to look after me so I will be all good”.

“I am glad you got Mason” my brother says giving me cuddle “I know I am a very lucky girl”. I thank him again for driving me home and told him to message me once he is home. He watches me walk inside then slowly drives up the drive way.

Once inside I can hear the TV on low volume and the smell instantly hits me, whatever it is smells amazing. Mason suddenly appears from around the corner, as soon as he sees me he runs across the room and wraps me in his arms. He places a soft kiss to my forehead “how are you doing?” he asks inspecting my scars. I give Mason a small smile “I am just shattered its been a long day. The scar doesn’t hurt too much just my head is really sore”.

Mason gives me another hug “I am so sorry baby come and sit on the sofa. I have put dinner on as I am starving so I am guessing you are too” which I nod in response.

“It smells amazing Mase, I cannot wait to eat that! Well I am guessing a congratulations is in order my semi-finalist!”

“Thank you baby! The boys are so excited. I just wish it didn’t end like that. Pama had not right to do that. Its so far out of order! Wait until he is back in training I am going to give him a peace of my mind, no one hurts my girl.” He places a strand of hair that has fallen out of my messy bun behind my ears and gives me a kiss to my lips, it’s a small soft kiss like he is trying to be careful not to break me.

“Mase he isn’t worth it. I have played up against so many pricks like that before. He thinks because I am girl he needs to assert his dominance. Its not worth it affecting your career just because he is a dickhead. Now come on I am okay that’s the main thing and now I get my sexy boyfriend to look after me”.

The sound of my phone binging takes us out our romantic moment “Jheez someone is popular! Everyone must be so worried about you” Mason says “Yeah my management team released a post confirming I am okay I am guessing this is just the comments from that.” I open up my phone and see all the Instagram comments. I suddenly stop and am wide eyed. Mason looks at me with concern “whats wrong?” he asks. “Well I think our secret is out”. I say passing Mason the phone so he can see the comments for himself.

Your yourusername posted:

Thank you to all the Y/T/N fans today, I am gutted about the result but thank you for cheering us on loud, your support is exceptional. Thank you to all who have messaged regarding the injury, I am all okay just need time and rest. I had 14 stitches along my hairline but I will be making a total recovering and be back playing as soon as possible! As always thank you for being the best fans in the world!   

User 1: I cannot believe Pama’s tackle absolutely out of order. No sportsmanship at all!

User 2: I was so worried when Y/N went down with the amount of blood. Glad she is going to make a total recovery.

User 3: Is anyone going to talk about how Mason Mount went straight to Y/N when she went down?

User 4: Yeah and the way he shoved and went off at Pama after the tackle?

User 5: Did anyone else see the replay when Mason tackled Y/N and he mouthed ‘Sorry’ to her? Totally shipping them together 💗

User 6: I love Mason and Y/N together, please tell me its true 🥰

User 7: Give the fans what they want! 🙌

“Well I guess its out in the open now” Mason says shrugging it off.

“I knew playing eachother was going to be an issue” I say with panic in my voice.

“Calm down why are you panicking? You knew they were going to find out eventually and well they seem to be very happy about it. So why don’t we give them exactly what they want?”

It would be nice to have everything out in the open regarding me and Mason, having us a secret has been nice but it is probably time to do the hard launch. Everyone already is assuming so it does make sense. “I think I am ready to be public official with you Mount” Mason gives me the biggest smile and kisses me, this time with urgency and passion. I wince as his hand goes to grab my hair, Mason quickly pulls away “shit I am sorry” he says apologising. “Its fine just a bit delicate for now, we cannot go as hard as we did last night.” I joked.

Mason sends me a wink as he stands up “okay I will go easy on you tonight” he comes back a couple of minutes later with his phone. “what are you doing?” I asked confused. He joins me on the sofa and puts his phone up to us as he is taking a selfie. I quickly hide myself in his chest as I look a mess right now and Mason takes the picture.

“I think its time for the hard launch now” and shows me the picture. It’s a lovely photo, we look settled together and comfortable in eachothers arms. “I love it” I reply. “I love you” Mason replies.

Mason types away on his phone, I get the notification that I have been tagged in a post. Mason posts that picture of us:

You had us all worried there for a minute Y/N/N but I will take the best care of you @yourusername. Y/T/N she will be back in no time! 💗💗

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 242

   He looks the same as he had that fateful day, a storm raging around him and risking sending the ship down into the abyss. Hair whipping in the wind as the sky roars its deadly challenge echoed by the beasts they all sought to bring down those centuries ago. 

   It looks just as human as they- that is to say not at all, not anymore. A body twisted, sand and lightning melding into a molten sea ever-expanding. Its eyes as gold as the treasure it guards, brilliant blues and greens dancing across bodies in sigils unknown. 

   It looks exactly as it did that time ago, smile dancing on its lips as the sky opened up in torrents, like blood gushing from a wound. “You’re free to go,” it says, in words they understand and words they don’t. “You don’t have to stay here any longer.” 

   “Where will we go?” They ask, so very tired of this eternal battle, of being trapped in crashing waves and storms of water and sand. Being tossed one way and the other, never able to go home, for home was gone long ago. 

   It looks up, their own gaze following, the ship crashing through the dredges of a storm they had thought eternal. And for the first time in eternities, they see them. The stars. Dancing and dripping from a serpentine form that cradles the Sun and Moon, smiling down to the beast and them alike. 

   And so, they take from the seas, and take to the stars instead. 

[lokh]

(ch 40 spoilers) au where qifrey erases olruggios memories one too many times and he forgets qifrey and ONLY qifrey

sometimes using forbidden magic that no one really knows how to wield anymore comes with unintended consequences!

eventually qifrey comes upon a solution, but it will return ALL his memories to him. will he risk it...?

[givemedamage]

ultimately!

[lorillee]

im really normal about them <- lie

[tennessoui]

new wip wednesday

i wanted to get the first chapter of this done as an early bday present to me because ive been talking about this fic for foreverrrrr but its not gonna happen because im bad at measuring time and effort 😮‍💨 but look! hunger games au fic!

Anakin pushes his face into his neck, letting his lips press against his pulse for a moment. 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan murmurs, recognition and warning rolled into one tone. 

But Anakin wouldn’t be who he is if he allowed the man in his arms to so easily twist away. He wouldn’t even be here now, pressed up against him with the scent of saltwater and lilacs and leather filling his nose, if he let one warning word distract him from his goal.

So instead he pushes further, wraps his hands around Obi-Wan’s hips and takes the skin beneath his lips between his teeth. The soft fabric of their pants brush together, so loud in the stillness of the kitchen that it’s deafening—that it’s almost loud enough to drown out the catch in Obi-Wan’s breathing.

But Anakin has trained himself over the past five years to listen for all the small ways that Obi-Wan Kenobi capitulates, so he hears his sigh, feels the slump of his shoulders against his own as his head sways forward and then back.

Anakin takes his time worrying a bitemark into his neck, just at the edge of his beard. On the holos that will film Obi-Wan’s face today, it’ll look like a shadow. 

But Anakin will know. Obi-Wan will know. 

“Anakin,” his lover murmurs, and Anakin’s hand moves from his waist up to stroke down his arm, corded with tense muscle. Fisherman’s muscle. Victor’s muscle too.

Not today, he means. It’s obvious in every line of his body. It’s obvious in the fact that he left the bed so early in the morning when neither of them must work. It’s obvious in the distance in his eyes, the frown across his lips.

Today is not a day where Obi-Wan will accept pleasure from anyone’s lips or hands, undeserving as he feels to be on the receiving end of such a kindness.

Anakin’s left hand falls to cover Obi-Wan’s, tangling their fingers together. His are rougher than Obi-Wan’s, working man’s hands now that he is twenty-one and a man of the sea like most are on Stewjon. The rough drag of his calluses over the hairy knuckles of Obi-Wan’s hand makes Anakin swallow a smile. Victors of the Hunger Games are forbidden from working laborious jobs. They’re meant to languish away in their Coruscanti-funded manors, with idle minds and idle hands, picking at paints or design stencils or any number of different government approved hobbies

Obi-Wan Kenobi is not made to be idle. He has no patience for painting or sewing, for cooking or jewelry design. Luckily for him, Stewjon is the fourth planet from Coruscant, on the edge of the inner rim, and it’s rather small, rather ordinary. In the colder months, during the few months of the star year where the galaxy is not forced to care about the Hunger Games and its Victors, he can slip away to the ocean. Fish and sail like he was born to do, Stewjoni through and through.

But Anakin is out on those choppy seas year-round now that he’s four years finished with his compulsory education. His hands are rougher than Obi-Wan’s and they always will be.

Anakin likes it. Likes the way Obi-Wan’s softness contrasts against his own rougher places. Likes that he can sneak away from Obi-Wan’s manor in the blue of the pre-dawn light, first to the sea and then to the market, and Obi-Wan will be there when he gets back. Likes that when he leaves, his lover is curled up asleep in their bed. And when he returns with the fattest fish from his haul, Anakin can cook it for him too. 

He likes that he is the only thing Obi-Wan needs. He provides. He cooks for him. He feeds him. He touches him with his rough hands, to dirty him and then to clean him up. Everything that Obi-Wan needs, Anakin is the person to give it to him.

He supposes he has Coruscant to thank for that.

He’s not stupid enough to say that—ever, but especially today. Especially on the day of the Reaping. 

[skitskatdacat63]

Boy King AU | Vettonso + Martian | 1.3k

There's something about putting the future emperor of the Holy Realm on his knees like this. About how easily he goes, how willingly, how obediently. What would his adoring public think if they could see him now. If they saw their beloved king pressed down like this, in the cramped space between Fernando's legs. When they realized their little boy king took it like he was a little concubine instead. 

Fernando's bitterness is lifted away in moments like these, like taking off a heavy cloak on a winter's day. It was hard to feel humiliated about his own situation when watching Sebastian debase himself like this. 

He always gives himself up so easily. When Fernando threaded his fingers through his thick curls. When he pulled them, and then when he pressed his face down further down into the vee of his legs.  Sebastian rubbed his cheek into the coarse fabric of Fernando's breeches and blinked up at him. Fernando had to smother an embarrassing sound; he was just like a little cat!

Sebastian quirked his lips up into an odd little smile and slightly rose up on his knees, "What's funny?" Fernando swallowed lightly and schooled his face back into being impassive, "Nothing. As you were." Sebastian simply smirked at him and let himself be pushed back down by the fist clenched in his hair. 

Fernando scoffed internally, there was only so much pleasure in putting the other man in his place when he instead acted like this, this degrading action, was his birthright. He took to ruling and indulging in carnal pleasures as if they were of equal gravity. To be privileged to hold such high station and also let himself be taken apart like this…Fernando felt embarrassed for him.

He is dragged away from his musings when Sebastian moved to settle his hands in Fernando's lap, clutching his hips over the fabric and slightly squeezing; Fernando fought against the urge to shiver. Sebastian pushed up the skirt of Fernando's waistcoat and smoothed his hands over the opening flap of his breeches.

His eyes darted up at Fernando again, a daft smile on his face. Fernando scowled at him, "What?" Seb's grin sharpened, "You could stand to be a little more gracious. This is your future emperor, and future husband might I add, kneeling for you on this dirty, depraved, derelict- ah–" Fernando tugged on his hair again and hissed, "Well then, why don't you show me how eager you are to perform your marital duties?" 

Seb licked his lips, completely unconcerned by Fernando's annoyance, and unbuttoned one side of the closure to Fernando's breeches and moved to open the other–

The door to the carriage flew open, arrival announcement dying on a wheezing breath as the servant took in the image the two kings made. One splayed across the seat, exuding power, the other kneeled, debauched, between the former's legs. 

One would be hard pressed to determine which was higher on the totem of power and titles. 

There was something gratifying about this to Fernando, about being caught. He had been humiliated enough throughout the entire courtship, what was one more thing? And, certainly, what was one more thing if he could drag Sebastian down into the dirt with him. 

"Oh Mark, don't act so abashed! It's nothing you haven't seen before, in fact, we have been in this very position not even a fortnight ago!"

Oh. Yes. That. 

It was hard to be completely pleased when he remembered how Sebastian had already spent years prior to their engagement sampling the palace's ample selection of fellow high-born men. And how all those men seemed to be completely and utterly wrapped around his little finger.

Fernando released his hand from Sebastian's hair as if it had burned him. He did not understand why he felt ashamed with Mark looking in on them like this. Fernando was the one marrying Sebastian, not Mark; Mark was just a lowly courtier who had the esteemed duty of spending practically every waking hour with the brat…something he himself was decidedly not looking forward to. 

Sebastian stayed kneeling, staring impassively up at Mark, still fiddling with the clasp on Fernando's breeches. Fernando gritted his teeth and looked up from where he was watching Sebastian's clever little hands; Mark stared back at him placidly. 

Mark's indifference made the entire situation worse. Fernando now felt as if he was not doing anything unique, not doing anything particularly new. How many other men had Mark caught Seb with in this exact position? Fernando felt like he was just another plaything of the boy king, soon to be boy emperor, except his position was forever, permanent. He was the "Kept King", the king who only kept his throne due to the whims of a boy who doesn't even understand what power is.

Mark coughed, "Well," he says, "Your Majesty, I do believe you have a meeting to attend." Seb pouted at him and whined, "We were just getting to the main course," but still braced himself on Fernando's thighs and got up off the carriage floor. 

Seb pranced down the steps Mark had placed next to the carriage, miming tripping sown the stairs, snickering when his action made Mark reflexively reach out to grab him, and then playfully skipped off the final step. 

Fernando couldn't help but stare as Mark made the weirdest grimace in response, and he inexplicably felt all his mortification seep away from him. Huh. Maybe Mark is-

Seb then turned around and frowned at him, seemingly disappointed, but his eyes are deceivingly sharp, "Fernando, I regret to inform you that I have other duties I must attend to, you will simply have to wait." He then grinned up at Mark next to him and giggled as the other man stiffened when Sebastian looped both of his arms through Mark's. 

He leaned all his weight on the other man, Mark not so much as shifting his weight, "Oh Mark, won't you carry me back to the palace? I'm so very tired after all the horse riding," Seb looked up at him imploringly.

Fernando observed as Mark rolled his eyes and shrugged off the man, though notably not pulling his arm from Seb's grasp, and he got the distinct feeling that this exact scene had been played out countless times before. 

Fernando clenched his jaw as he watched Seb turn and saunter off, Mark trotting alongside him like a loyal dog. Fernando was supposed to be the unaffected one in this partnership, the unflustered one, the unconcerned one. And yet here he stood, in broad daylight, in a foreign kingdom, on the steps of a carriage with his breeches half unbuttoned and his cravat in disarray. 

He heard a cough from beside him, jolted and looked to the side. Sebastian's loyal Horse Master stood there, lounging against the side of the carriage. Fernando had forgotten who had even been driving the carriage in the first place. After Seb has let himself be pushed down, his hair still windswept from their ride together, everything else seemed to fade away. His thoughts were reduced only to how he could mess up the younger man's hair further. 

Jenson grinned at him wolfishly, and casually crossed his legs,  "First time?" he inquired. Fernando glared at him. The other man laughed openly at him, "What? He's a busy man with big prospects. You're not his majesty's only conquest, you know. Now your throne on the other hand…"

Fernando seethed, it was one thing to be humiliated by the future emperor, but to be patronized by the king's horse boy? No. It would simply not do. He closed his eyes in annoyance, pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaled, and prepared a speech about how he was not about to be talked down to by a man who didn't even have a throne to speak of! 

But when he opened his eyes again and opened his mouth to begin his tirade, Jenson was already wandering away to tend to the horses. Dios mío, Fernando was not mentally prepared to spend the rest of his life with all of these impertinent morons. 

[marblerose-rue]

are there enough webkinz out there for us to make thunderclan. like tpb thunderclan

like this is fireheart 100% . but do we have enough (we can include webkinz jr)

[thetangibleghost]

I've always wanted to wake up from a dream laughing and I just did but I realized after I woke up that I have missed a million social cues :((((((((((((((((( it wasn't even funny idk why I couldn't stop giggling. I dont even giggle irl.

[flamboyant-king]

*rubs chin very thinkily* now that’s a concept.

[whoviandoodler]

[Image description: a digital drawing of Thomas from Transatlantic holding Varian's hand and kissing his fingers while crying. We only see Thomas's face and their two hands covered in dripping blood. Behind them are black shards with designery red eyes on them. The pieces is coloured in desaturated blues with red accents. End description.]

We all have blood on our hands.

[fala-alfredo-pasta]

Have you thought that. The sdr2 characters gave up their talent bc they use it for despair while they were brainwashed? Kaz gave up his love of machines

*ending theme of digital circus starts playing*

bruh that would be so sad

Like imagine Teruteru gave up cooking because he also lost his biggest driving force that made him want to to cook in the first place (his mom).

Or Mikan starts to doubt any and all of her medical knowledge because she doesn't trust herself as she did before in treating other peoples wounds and is afraid she'll only hurt them further.

Or Fuyu giving up being a yakuza.

Wait well....actually no that might be a good thing for him. That might be an improvement actually.

[1980ssunflower]

bwahh miss eddie tbh

[cherrysnax]

idk if having other people hold me accountable would help or make the fear worse 😤