#now i feel like i've done my ideas justice

[bonicedemandarina]

Happy birthday Viktor! Ignore Jayce over there, he's cut out bc this isn't about him/j

[fionnaskyborn]

People like this have made me terrified that I am mischaracterizing my favorite character by playing into his strengths and emphasizing them so much... That I'm making things "too anime", "too over-the-top", and by doing that straying away from the groundedness that made the character compelling in the first place... But I think it's better to be a fan who loves someone so much they're willing to step into goofy over-the-top showcases of strength and morals out of love than being a fake fan who only ever rags on what they proclaim is so dear to them. I dunno. I don't think I'm wrong in saying that. I'm hella insecure when it comes to my own writing, especially with this guy because I want to do him as much justice as I possibly can as a writer. But I have to convince myself that it's not too much.

[hoshigray]

I love your work so much and it makes me feel a certain way <33 BUTT im here to request something that I've been looking for 🤞🏽

Toji x Fan-Fiction-Writer ! Reader? I'll get on my knees if required 🫶🏽

𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐜(𝐤)𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧!! | tōji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: You know, some things are just not meant to be shared, such as fanfiction writing. And how the hell did your boyfriend, of all people, come to be the one to question you about your hobbies? You tell me, you dirty little writer…

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x fem fanfic writer! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! - the reader is mid/late 20s; Toji's in his mid-30s - humor - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (licking, sucking and swiping) - deep impact position - degradation (slut, whore) - use of "Daddy" title - praise + humiliation - spitting - cervix fucking - little bit of rough sex - unprotected sex (psa: wrap the willy; don't be silly) - pet names (baby, cupcake, good girl, mama, princess, sweetheart, sweetie) - aftercare; taking a bath together - usage of a phone; erotic literature/writing - Toji teasing you to no end, the bastard, lol - reader wears glasses cuz why not, hehe - mention of drool/spit.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k (bless up)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: bro. this idea cooked so bad, i just HAD to make a fic for it, lmao!! apologies for doing this months late, hope I did the prompt justice, and ty for loving my works~☆

“Nooo, stop, Toji, give it back!”

“Hold on, baby, hold on…Phew, who knew ya liked wrtin’ dirty shit like this? The fuck is ‘pet play—’”

“Oh my God, stop it!” 

This had to be, undoubtedly, the worst day of your life.

If there’s one thing every human being on Earth has in common, it’s their love for the weekends. They’re amazing — have two whole days to retreat and relinquish the turmoil and stress after five days straight. They’re the days when you can choose whichever activity you want to enjoy your leisure. 

Some people catch up on sleep, others watch a show or try to cook up a new dish, and some go outside and hang out with friends. But then there are those weekdays where it’s satisfying enough to spend your day inside the comfort of your home, delighting in a hobby. 

The hobby you chose to indulge in this weekend was writing. And right at this moment, you regret it being the activity you selected.

Why? For one, it wasn’t just any type of writing, like journalling or poetry. No, no; if it were, things would be easier for you to deal with now. Nope, it was fan fiction writing. The type of writing you’ve known since middle school and decided to jump in and try for about a year. What started as a curiosity turned out to be a hobby that took up your infatuation to the maximum level: writing pieces every night, taking up requests from your following over six thousand followers, and serving as an outlet to project your fantasies onto the Internet. 

What type of fantasies, you might ask? The type you read in a room by yourself or in the corner away from prying eyes, under a blanket with your phone exhibiting the dark secrets that corrupt your mind, or the type that only could be accepted on the Internet and not from the judgmental looks of those in the real world.

But, most certainly, not the type of fantasies you wanted your boyfriend to see!

“Toji, please, give my computer back!”

“Nah, hold on; I wanna see this…Oh, what a title; ‘Fuck Me, Rail Me, Use Me, Daddy—‘“

“TOJI, STOP!”

Perhaps writing fan fiction with your boyfriend occupying your apartment wasn’t the best idea. But you wanted to get a draft don’t by the end of this weekend, and you were almost done with it. You were typing up a storm in your bedroom, sitting at your desk while your man, Toji Fushiguro, was doing at-home exercises in your living room. 

And you could’ve sworn you had locked your computer before going to the bathroom. All you know is that after flushing and washing your hands, you opened your bedroom door to a horrifying sight: Toji, sweaty from his routine in his sweats and wife beater, holding up your laptop that showed the exact draft that you were working on! No, no, NO! You almost tripped dashing to take the device, but the older man was too quick and effortlessly dodged your attempts while still reading the material. And now you know why you are hopping around your room trying to catch the man and stop him from reading more of your stuff. 

Spoiler alert: your efforts were beyond futile, huffing and puffing in complete defeat on your bed. Your boyfriend was sitting beside you, still reading aloud while scrolling through your drafts, to your dismay. Your ears and cheeks harbored an unbearable heat that you could cry at any second, and you covered your face in case it were to happen. God, please kill me now! 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, how many of these shits have you written?” Toji inquires, his forest green eyes scanning every draft as if the list were endless. “How long have you been doin’ this?”

“For…a while.” You can barely muster the confidence to utter an adequate response. How could I have forgotten to lock my damn computer?!

“How long’s a while?”

“Uhhh, a…a year?”

The silence was pinching your skin enough, but you don’t know if you preferred it over the next thing he said. “Wow, who would’ve thought my sweet angel was a dirty lil’ thing writing filth like this?” Oh, you wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die. You can practically sense the smirk on his stupid, handsome face, pulling the scar off his lip! And it hurts your being that he laughs at you grabbing a pillow to scream into oblivion. “What a horny minx.”

You removed the pillow to tell him off. “It’s not all my fault! Most of those aren’t even my ideas; some of my followers asked me to write—“

“Followers?” God, would it have killed you to shut up? “So you got people readin’ your stuff?”

Downcast eyes to avoid his surveying ones, “W–Well, yes…People like how I write, so I…..Write whatever they ask me.”

“Oh, wow,” raven eyebrows lift while looking at the screen, flipping through the notes of your drafts to your blog with your completed works. “So over a hundred freaks like how freaky you write.”

“Hey, d–don’t say it like that!”

“Oh really?” You didn’t like how he said that, nor when he pulled up one of your drafts to read. “… ’You spread your legs on instinct as she sucks on your chest, and the woman takes the initiative by sliding a hand down to your—‘“

“Stop, stop, STOP!” You sit upright and try again to take the computer away from him, but Toji swiftly moves to the bedroom floor. Fuck! It was hopeless, so you groan in exasperation. “Quit it, Toji; you had your fun, so give it back!”

He didn’t think so; finding something new about you made him curious to no bounds. And for it to be a bit of a suggestive side of you? Oh, how ashamed you were of him finding this out tickled him. “Damn, there’s so much on here…Have you ever written ‘bout shit we’ve done?”

You couldn’t believe he asked you that question — you couldn’t believe you were in this situation at all! Are you serious ”—ly asking me that?!?”

“I’m not hearin’ a ‘yes’ or ‘no.’” Now, this is just diving into a more profound level of embarrassment than you could handle. “Did’ya?”

“……………yes.”

“Wait, fr’ real?! Which ones?”

“I’m not telling you! Just give me my laptop—“

“Hell nah,” his elbow is strong enough to keep you at bay—how pathetic on your part being treated like a kid. “I’m curious to see what my lil’ sweetheart is tellin’ strangers ‘bout how we do our business—“

“I’m not telling them anything!!” You retort. “I-I just use our experience as a means of…references when I’m writing,” thumbs find themselves fidgeting together. “It…It helps when I don’t know how to describe a feeling, or….what it’s like during certain…..positions.” Was the room getting stuffy, or were you shrinking under the growing pressure of every word coming out of your mouth? Who knows. 

“Is there stuff y’ve written before that you’d like fr’ us to try?” Oh, for fuck’s sake, this was too much, bringing your –his– hoodie up to shield you from this predicament. And it only worsens when he stares your way, having you close up the hoodie by the drawstrings and collapse to his shoulder. Toji chuckles at your routing self, wrapping an arm around you. “Can’t even be honest fr’ a second.”

“Toji, pleaseeee,” whining doesn’t help, the older man moving the laptop out of your lazy attempt to retrieve it. “Give it baaack…!”

“Nnm, nnm, don’t wanna,” he places the device away to the ground and takes your hand with his. “Now I gotta read what weird shit you’ve been keepin’ ‘way from me.”

You shake your head frantically. “Please don’t! Don’t you think you’ve tormented me enough today?”

“Now, why would I ever get tired of fucking with ya?” The smirk on his face is still present after you open the hoodie to sneak a glare. “Shoulda thought ‘bout that and locked y’r laptop screen.”

“You’re such a fucking asshole…” his laugh at your words only proves your point, and you bury your face in his chest. This entire thing was so outrageous. How in the world were you this dumb enough not to double-check to make sure your computer was locked from prying eyes? What an amateurish move! Not even your closest friends know that you write fanfiction, so to have your boyfriend be the one to not only find out but bombard you with questions about your secret hobby is nothing short of humiliating. It can’t get any worse than this…

…Or so you thought.

“Hey,” you perk up to look at Toji. “You said ya got followers askin’ ya what they want you to write, right?” You nod meekly, twirling your thumbs with the bottom of your shirt. “Show me some.”

Appalled, you gawk, “Wh–why would I—”

“I know you have favorites from the hundreds I’ve been looking at for the past five minutes. So, are ya gonna show ‘em to me, or am I gonna have to read every single one to find out?”He didn’t show interest in returning the laptop to you even after asking the question. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, baby; I bet ya can look it up on y’r phone or somethin’.”

Your pout deepens in defeat as you begrudgingly stuff a hand inside the pocket of your leggings to pull out your phone to click on an app. Your thumb clicks and scrolls for a few seconds before you peer to him and say, “…I do have some favorites.” 

Jesus, it hurt to admit that to someone, especially with your him of all people, who is without a doubt getting an absolute kick out of this, the fucking bastard! This was beyond embarrassing; nothing could ever top this moment. Indeed, there is nothing else he could have done that could have made this predicament any worse than it already is. At least that’s what you tell yourself to cope because Toji’s grin on his face says otherwise. And what he says afterward makes your blood shift to ice.

“Why don’t ya read ‘em to me.”

Yup, you were killing yourself tonight.

─── ��⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Go on; read that short one fr’ me.”

“Ahh—…Hahhh, ‘Sitting here and thinking…about your faves…Mmmm.”

For some reason, this felt so. Fucking. Wrong!

You already knew it was a bad idea for you to read your works to your boyfriend at his request. However, to be fulfilling said wish in this manner? The mortification had your ears ringing a thousandfold. 

How would you have foreseen this yourself, face stuffed to the pillow with your phone held up by your right hand with your legs spread up and your bottom propped up? Who the hell reads like this?! And on top of that, your boyfriend is alongside you, his body behind you. The inability to see what he’s doing arises uneasiness in the soul, quivers sneaking up as you feel the rough pads of his fingertips greet the skin of your ass after sneaking inside the oversized hoodie. 

Breath hitches at the slide of your panties, coming down for his hands to grope the flesh wholly. “To..ji…” his name leaves in shakes. 

“C’mon, baby,” you swallow thickly at the cupping of your chasm. Toji chuckles at the twitch felt on his palm, “Read it properly, yeah? Word for word.”

Oh, fuck, your brows trench together. “T…’Thinking about your faves pleasing you from behind. He knows he has to tease you a bit—Tmmm,” his lightly hits your butt. “‘B-By massaging your ass with his strong hands,” he does so, kneading your ass skillfully that has you involuntarily purring to his touch. “…’Keeping you still and relaxed so he can later feel you with his fingers and—“ his forefinger and middle slowly come from your clit to the entrance, biting your lips. “Nhhmm, hahhh.”

“Go on,” Toji scolds, the middle digit sliding up and down with a faint push. Your back quakes to the touch, fingers gripping the pillow. “What else is y’r fav doing?”

You inhale. “Mmmm…’and circle one of them around to warm you up—‘“ spit gulped down again when Toji’s digit did the exact thing as told. “‘And then, when he knows you’re ready for him, he sneaks them insi—‘ Aaaiiii!” His middle finger is shoved into your vagina, and your toes instantly curl before he pushes the rest ever so slowly.  “Oh! Ohhh, fuck…’He…then comes to your shoulder and says to your ear to make you tingle…”

“…’Stay still, sweetie,’” woah. You were not expecting that; you were too focused on trying to read your words, and Toji bending to your ear to read his part wasn’t noticed at all. You only hope he didn’t catch the clasp of your vaginal walls around his finger (he most definitely did), hoping the soft chortle meant nothing. “‘Gonna let me make y’ feel good, yeah?’” Jesus Christ, his gruff voice relayed this so intimately to your eardrums that your heart was beating too hard.

Toji’s finger goes faster, nearly having you almost drop your phone. Your face smooshes to the pillow from the scrape of his fingertip, biting on the pillowcase as he puts in the other finger. He whispers to your ear to keep going; unbelievable…So you lift your head and try. “J-J…’Just thinking about how easy he could make you cum—Mmmph! Wi-With his fingersss…scratching and rubbing your insides so precisely until you’re practically begging to mess his hand up’…”

“Oh, fr’ real?” The perk of his tone makes you anxious. “Well, don’ mind if I do.”

The pace of his ring and middle finger increase, and you gasp sharply. The onslaught of rubs to your inner channel is enough to have your lower half writhe despite Toji keeping your legs grounded with his single one. Oh, fucking Christ, your glasses up to your smooshed cheeks the more you try to conceal your cries, proven to be trivial as the seconds go by. 

“Aww, whaddaya think y’re doin’?” He coos with a kiss to your nape; you nearly shut down. His free hand takes your phone, “Tryin’ to hide that cute voice of y’rs from me? Fuck that,” he then removes his digits from your chasm as you yelp and makes you flip to your back. Oh, fuck no! Your hands go to cover your face—nope, Toji is quick to move them away. “Lemme see you, mama…Now, let’s see what else you should read fr’ me.” He swipes your phone screen, “This too wordy, this long as fuck—goddamn, baby; you writin’ whole ass novels or somethin’?”

“Shut up,” you reply as your legs move, and Toji’s left hand removes your undies. 

“Ah, this one!” He hands you back your cellular device. Your eyes catch the first sentence, and your face morphs into dread before staring back at him to meet his grin. “Go ‘head,” he says cooly, spreading your legs by the knees.

“…’Picture this: your favorite coming to your room and seeing you on your bed and striding to you to taste you,” you inhale deeply at the blow of air on your wet southern folds. “‘He crawls up to you while you’re busy scrolling on the phone, busying himself with placing kisses to your stomach and down to your undies. He’ll then take them off and spread your legs for him, greeting your privates with his ton’—Ghhh…!” Toji licks your slit leisurely; you gulp at the muscle perching between the lips of your labia. “Hahhh, shit…’The smell and taste of you are so inviting he can barely keep it together, virtually inching to stuff his face with your pussy. He kisses it, lips petting your clit,’” he does so, and you chew your bottom lip. “‘Then his tongue goes excruciatingly slow to e-explore your folds,” your exhale is shaky as Toji’s tongue laps and swirls; fuck, I can’t do this…

The older man, on the other hand, flips a switch and goes to town. You knew this was a bad idea; if there’s one thing Toji loved doing more than fucking your cunt, it’s eating it out. He pushes your legs up by the knees for easier access, the angle perfect for him to propel his mouth onto your entrance. You shriek, his nose frequently grinding the hood of your cunt as his scarred lips and tongue suck and lick you feverishly.

“—Tahhh! Ohhhshit, no…!” You cry, throwing your head back to the pillow. “Ahhnn, Tojiii, stop…not too fast—Oooh!”

He spits, mixing his saliva with your slick as he laves. “Mmmph, shit, taste ’o good,” Toji pushes his face further as he sucks on your clit, and you nearly choke on your sob. “Yeah, yeah, let ‘em out; scream like a real whore.” You jerk, but his hands firmly keep you down. “Keep goin’, cupcake, finish y’r reading.”

“Khhh, God, I can’t,” you gulp when emerald eyes peer toward you. “…’Before long, he’s too overwhelmed by you that he can’t take it anymore, stuffing his face between your legs and having you cry out his name in prayers—your phone is no longer a priority.’” Jesus, you can hear his grunts along with the lascivious sounds coming from below; he’s so fucking turned on. “‘Now he has your attention, playing with your…pussy like a toy just to hear you squeak.”  

“Fuck yeah,” he groans as he sticks his fore and middle digits into you. Fingers go to and fro frantically, and your free hand grabs his raven hair. “Christ, y’ sound so fuckin’ hot. More, gimme more,” a long and harsh kiss to your clit makes you want to arch so bad. “Good girl, good fuckin’ girl…”

You hiss at the graze of your vagina; keeping your eyes open is hard to do. Lips go agape, and your noises fly out with no restraint. Your legs tremble, impending in a wish to close from the curl of Toji’s fingers. Your senses become too keen, your nerves heightening with every massage of your walls, lick and slurp of your slick and clit. 

“Ohooo, nhhmm, fuck, Tojiiii,” another suck to your clit has you grip the sheets. “Stooop, please; I’m gonna cumm…!” 

However, your boyfriend has another idea in his head. “Oh no, you don’t, princess,” his fingers leave you hurriedly with a squeal. He yanks for your phone once more to find yet another piece of yours for you to read, giving you so little time to recuperate. Until he scoffs with a smirk, “Ohh, read this one aloud next.” 

You take the device returned to you cautiously, scanning the first few words that catch your eye. Curiosity snaps to apprehension, “W-wait, no, please!” Begging won’t work, but it doesn’t hurt to try. “Please, Toji, look for some—“

“Aht, aht,” the click of the tongue shuts you. “C’mon, sweetheart, that ain’t what y’re callin’ y’r fav right now.” He squeezes your thigh, “What’s my name?”

“Toji, pleas—“

“Mm, mm,” he pinches you, a warning. “Try again.”

Excitement Nervousness flicker through your soul, breathing tardily as you muster to answer. “Sorry…Daddy.” The title burnt your tongue when it left your mouth, and the smile lifted Toji’s scar even more. 

“Good,” he praises. “Now read.”

“…One of my followers asked about writing a post about deep impact, so it’s—“

“Deep impact?” He questions while spreading your legs. “The hell’s that?” 

“I-It’s a, uhh,” you push up your glasses. “A position where you…kinda, like, sit on one of my legs and lift the other to your shoulder.”

Black eyebrows rise. “Ohhh, somethin’ like this, huh?” Sturdy hands find your ankle and lift your leg to his shoulder, and Toji then moves to have your other leg in between his. Your lips flatten when the groin of his pants—aka, the pitched tent–touches your hole. He whistles, “Oh, now I got a new favorite to add fr’ later.” His words aren’t meant to jest, so you frown as he snickers. “Alright, what did you write for this?”

You lick your lips; why? Toji uses his free hand to bring his sweats down, not surprised by the lack of underwear as his erection springs out. His cock is standing and ready for you, the precum oozing out alluring your eyes and your lip bitten by excited teeth. Of course, your vagina is clenching to a void—anticipation is a hell of a drug affecting your entire figure. 

“Don’t get too distracted, mama,” he caught you eyeing him, lifting the hem of his wife’s beater to bite down on. Your ears and cheeks scorched at the sight of his abs and torso. “Read those words.”

Your gaze flickers to your phone while Toji lines his dick to your entrance, a gulp at the kiss of his glans and your inner labia. “…’Daddy has you propped in a deep impact, a position catered to mutual pleasure and closeness. He taps you with the tip to have you excited, then slowly pushes himself into your—Mmfff!…y-your warmth,” reminding yourself to maintain a steady breath; Toji pushes his cockhead into your slick as you’re distracted. A few seconds fly by, and he slips right in; a gasp exiting your puffy lips indicates so. “‘H–He gently shoves every inch and stretches you out,’” his girth is lethal, your eyes rolling up the further his tip goes, scrapping your texture and your opening suiting for his length. “‘A-And, it feels so good to have him making you full and good’—Hoohh?!?”

That’s it, that’s what you were anxious about—you felt the jab of his tip on your cervix. You freeze instantly, too shocked to breathe as the hit was spontaneous. Your body locks down for a quick second to process what happened.

Toji notices your tightened grip and hisses, “Fffuuckin, shit…! So tight,” his hips go sluggish, and you feel his veins and shaft brush nicely with your insides. You sneak a glance at his flashed abdomen; the flex of his abs as he pushes his pelvis in waves is a sight to see–enough to put you in a trance. 

You continue. “‘His hip work is pleasuring, having you wail and cry out f-for more…the sensation of Daddy’s dick venturing inside and hitting your sweet spots is enough to make your toes curl—Nhhaaa…”

He can sense you gripping on him more; fuck, it feels so good. His thrusts go a little faster, forming a minimal medium. You exhale through your nostrils at the change of pace, and grazes against your walls become periodic and long-lasting the deeper he goes.

 “Daaah, ahhh, f-fuuck,” you whimper aloud. “Tojiii, y’ feel so g—Nnnmm!?!“ You nearly swallow your tongue from the sudden pound of him, the rub of your G-spot too abrupt to predict. 

“Who?” God, you know he’s getting a good kick out of this, the fucker. He pushes his cock to the hilt, and it takes everything in your power not to babble from the overwhelming intensity. 

“Daddy, daddyyy, don’t…!” Correcting yourself as his fingers dance around your unattended clit. “I’m sorry, you just feel so good..”

That’s more like it. “Good girl,” he bends closer, his knees spreading further apart. He pushes the leg on his shoulder so that the angle is plausible for him to rut harder. You shriek and squirm to his enjoyment, “Keep readin’.”

“‘Y-…You’re cries become more shameful the harder and faster he goes,” Toji stimulates for a harsher pound; another hit to your cervix has you winded. Despite your gasping for air, he doesn’t relent, and you jerk to undulate to another poke. “Sh-shiiit, Jesusss…! ‘He pistons so hard, so deep, it’s difficult even to think straight when all you can think is—‘“ a choked sob from a slow pull before a devious snap of the hips. “A-All you c–an think…Ahahh!” Another nudge to your G-spot; this is so hellish!

The culprit scoffs softly. “Think ‘bout what, baby?” He swipes and pinches your clit to have you jolt and whine. “Tell Daddy the rest.” 

Fuck, I can’t take it anymore! The phone slips your hand, barely missing your head. “Daddyyy, I can’t!”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Another pinch to the bud pairs with a poke to your delicate womb. Oh, he’s such a dick! “Don’t wanna read fr’ me?” He chuckles aloud at you shaking your head ‘no’. “Why’s that?”

“C-Cuz, if you keep going, I’ll,” a head thrown back at another nip on your clitoris. “Ahh, I-I’ll…!” Shit, you can feel it, the climb rocking your bones to entail your soon climax. 

“What? Ya wanna cum on Daddy’s dick instead of readin’ like a sweetheart,” don’t believe the words; his faux disappointment doesn’t match the merciless thrusts and the devilish grin. “Wanna act like a whole slut and cum on me?”

“Yesss, yes, pleasee!!” You don’t care anymore; you want to let it out. “Please, Daddyyy, I wanna cummm!!”

“Heh, what a nasty girl you are—Nnnmm! Fuck, just milkin’ me dry, beggin’ fr’ it, huh?” The same fingers he used to play with your clit come to your lips to shove inside, forcing you to taste yourself. “Go ‘head, mama; let y’rself go, be the slut you really are…Hahhh, shit, c’mere,” he grabs for both your wrists with his free hand after taking off your glasses and propels you towards him at the same time as he pounds. Holy fuck, this position was getting rougher, pulling you in and hitting your cervix with accurate hits that you’re whining and twitching. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck! It’s too much, it’s all too much to bear, so it’s no wonder you climax in seconds.

You cry with the breach of your crescendo, your inner muscles contracting around the cock, hitting your womb. Your nerves are now peaked as the air is sensitive to your skin, and you feel so out of breath, everything happening all at once that you can’t keep up as you thank Toji in babbled prayers, still sucking on his fingers as your vagina flutters and coats him of your essence.

“Good job, cupcake,” he comes closer and removes his digits. “Can’t beat the real thing, right?” He cups and massages your cheeks before spitting into your mouth. 

You don’t even flinch, too fucked out to even care, just moaning to his lips as he brings you in for a passionate kiss as his hips keep going until he’s done and satisfied…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Ughhh, I can’t believe I just did that…”

“Pfft quit whinin’. Don’t act like ya didn’t enjoy it.”

“I hate you so fucking much, you know that?”

“Whatever y’ say, Ms. Novelist.” You grumble at the name before he brings the washcloth to wipe down your neck.  

You and Toji were now in the bathroom, your nude bodies squished together, with the warm water cleansing you both. Hair and skin damp, your back meshed to his front as you sit between his legs. The soft yellow lighting basks the bathroom with a warm glow as you two bathe in relaxation, a needed state after the excitement prior. 

You snatch the washcloth before Toji wipes your face clean off. “Why did you have to be so nosy, looking at my laptop for what?” You wipe his arm that rests on the rim of the tub. 

He rolls his eyes, knowing he’s in for a lecture. “Well, if ya didn’t want me to see, shoulda locked the shit.”

“That doesn’t excuse the fact that you’re nosy as hell! Could’ve just looked somewhere else or left the room!”

“Hmph, well, when you see the words ‘Down and Dirty’ all bolded and big and see another tab with a pic of a rimjob, who wouldn’t stop—“

“Okay, okay!” It would be best if you threw the cloth at him for chortling; such an indecorous personality for someone supposedly older than you. “You’re insufferable.”

“Right back at you,” he whispers to your ear and kisses your cheek. You sigh softly from his lips, resting your head on his shoulder while he pecks your chin. The hand in the water finds your thigh to grope and massage, and you moan at the touch and unwind.

Tranquility fills the cozy space between you two as the silence settles in, the humid air comforting to your nose and eyes, and the drip of the faucet plucking into the tub water is a soothing sound to cajole you into a dormant plane. 

However, even when relaxing, it doesn’t stop the bothersome feeling of asking Toji something. And where better than with you in his secure embrace? “Toji,” his name has him open an eye to look your way. “You don’t think I’m…weird, don’t you?”

He raises a brow. “Explain.”

“Like, don’t you find it weird that me, your partner, indulges in hobbies that are…you know, like that,” now your eyes trail away from his gaze. “Writing about fictional fantasies and such, looking up erotic material and stuff…”

A few seconds fly as he scoffs. “Baby, I’ve been lookin’ at porn way before I met you—“

“Th–That’s not what I meant??”

“Besides, it’s nothing more than just writin’ shit that doesn’t exist. Hmm, if anything, now I know y’re just as big of a pervert as I am.”

Anxiousness transitions to peeve. “You are so—“

“Do you like what you do?” 

The question takes you aback; the immediate serious tone switch wasn’t expected. “…I..yeah.”

“Are ya hurtin’ anyone?”

“No…at least I don’t want to.”

“Are ya hurtin’ y’reself?” You see what he’s doing, the glint shining from his viridian orb.

“No. I…like this hobby.”

Finally, a small smile contorts that scar of his. “Then I don’t mind it. It’s what ya like to do, so do whatever, sweetie.” He comes to kiss your nose and rest his forehead with yours. “I like ya bein’ a lil’ weird anyway.”

“Jackass…” And there you go, falling in love with him again. You cup his cheek, kiss the other, and repose onto his shoulder with a blissful sigh. 

“Now,” you blink back to him. “Can’t lie, think you gotta start callin’ me ‘Daddy’ from now on,” like a scratched record, your heart stops, especially with his mischievous smirk. “Where can I read the rest of y’r stuff at?”

“That’s it,” you ignore his annoying bark of laughter as you try to squirm out of his hold. “Let me out of here, get me out of this fucking tub.”

“Haha, hey, quit it; y’re spillin’ the water!”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by rororogi morgera + dividers by @/cafekitsune + @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[hockeyboistrash]

operation get luke a girlfriend | l.h

summary: jack is tired of watching his brother pine over his best friend so he takes matters into his own hands to get you both to admit your feelings for each other. His plan, however, goes horribly wrong.

this idea popped into my and had to write it. I've never written for Luke so I hope I've done it justice. this one has been cooking for a while so I hope you enjoy. This is basically 4.2k words of best friends to lovers.

@star2fishmeg this one's for you 💖

You and Luke were best friends. You would do anything for each other. It could be after midnight but you would still pick Luke up after a roadie. Luke would ditch a game of Chel with his brothers if you were having a bad day, bringing you your favourite food and movies. Whenever asked about it the same three words would be spoken. ‘We’re just friends.’ No one was convinced though, especially Jack. Watching his younger brother pine after his best friend was painful to watch. He wanted nothing more than his brother to be happy. You brought him out of his shell. Luke was quite reserved around people unless you were his family so Jack and Quinn were surprised when he said more than two words to you the first time you met.

It didn’t faze Jack that Luke was dressed up to go to a party, only smirking at him as he got his stuff together. He saw the way your eyes lit up when Luke agreed to go to your party and how his brother bit his lip to try and hide his smile after you hugged him. It was obvious there was something more between the two of you and Jack hoped tonight one of you admits it. 

Luke wasn’t normally one for parties and he has a game tomorrow but when you invited him he couldn’t say no. The party playlist you curated was playing as he slipped into your apartment. It didn’t take long before he heard his name being called from across the room. “Luke! You came!” You shouted, flinging your arms around him while Luke wrapped his arms around your waist instinctively. 

“Of course I came. You asked me to come.” He mumbled, loud enough so only you could hear him. Luke was glad you couldn’t see his face, heat rising to his cheeks. 

“Well I appreciate it.” You told him, your lips tugging into a grin. “Let’s get you a drink.” You said, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the makeshift drinks table. Luke looked down at your intertwined fingers, liking the way it felt. He knew he shouldn’t though because you’re his best friend. Best friends aren’t supposed to miss the feeling of your hand in his when you let go. Luke missed the warmth of your hand in his cold one. He could shove them in his pocket to try and warm them up but he preferred the alternative, holding your hand. “Earth to Luke.” You waved your hand in front of his face, giggling as you brought him out of his inner spiral. 

“Yes. Sorry. Thank you.” Luke stuttered out. 

“Is everything okay?” You asked, eyebrows tugged into a slight frown, worried about him as he was a little distracted. 

“Everything's fine.” He told you, trying to cover up the fact he was thinking about holding your hand again. You weren't convinced though. You've known Luke for a couple of years now and you knew when he wasn't being entirely honest with you. You also know he likes to downplay everything. 

“I know it's easier said than done but you don't have to worry about tomorrow. You're going to defend like hell out there and win.” You said, giving his forearm a comforting squeeze. Luke loves your positivity. It's contagious and never fails to make him feel better. He knows that there's no way the team will win every game but you still tell him he will and he still goes onto the ice with a pep in his step. “Maybe you'll even score a goal.” You winked, your laugh was music to Luke's ears. He could kiss you right now. He wanted to kiss you but there's no way you felt the same about him so he buried those thoughts deep in his mind. He would rather bury his feelings than risk losing his best friend.

Your name was shouted from across the room before Luke could think of a witty comeback. You grabbed his hand and started dragging him with you. Luke’s eyes widened seeing the karaoke set up. “Not gonna happen.” Luke said, shaking his head vehemently. 

“Relax Luke, I wasn’t going to make you sing. I just- This is going to sound dumb.” You started, biting your lip slightly. “Basically I kinda agreed to sing one song on the karaoke machine with Maria but now I’m nervous and, I don’t know, I thought having you there would make it not as bad. It’s dumb I know.” You rambled. 

“It’s not dumb.” Luke mumbled. He was taken aback by your admission. You were one of the most confident people he knew. “I’ll be standing right here, cheering you on.” 

You grinned, thanking him before going over to your friend. She handed you a microphone as the start of the song began playing. Your eyes twinkled as they found Luke in the small crowd of your friends that was gathering. To him, it felt like it was just the two of you in the room. He was so engrossed in your performance that he didn’t notice he wasn’t the only one watching you intently until someone nudged him, his drink spilling over his hand. “They’re amazing aren’t they?” They shouted over the music, gesturing to you at the front of the room. Luke couldn’t quite put his finger on it but there was something about this guy that made his skin crawl. He grunted in agreement hoping he got the hint that he wanted to be left alone until you came back over. He didn’t.

Luke didn’t even get a chance to greet you before the guy next to him did. He didn’t remember you mentioning anything about a new guy in your life. You told each other everything. Your new friends, any potential boyfriends or girlfriends, anything that is going on in your lifes so he was confused when you greeted him. “Luke this is Scott, Scott this is my friend Luke.” 

‘Friend’ That stung a little. Luke wasn’t sure why though because it was true, you are friends yet hearing you introduce him to some guy, who you may or may not be hooking up with, as a friend caused an unfamiliar feeling to bubble inside. 

“I’m gonna head out.” Luke mumbled, leaning down so only you could hear him. He wasn’t in the mood to third wheel which is what it felt like to him. Luke only knew you and your roommate at this party and only came for you. 

“Oh, okay. Let me walk you out.” You said trying to hide the disappointment in your tone. You made the short walk to the front door, handing Luke his coat. “Thank you again for coming. I know you have a game tomorrow so it means a lot that you came.” 

“Of course I came. You asked me to come.” Luke shrugged. He could add so much more, he wanted to in fact yet there was something holding him back, maybe it was the rational side of his brain that knew if he continued speaking it would change everything. He wanted to tell you that he knew coming would make you smile and he loves your smile. He wanted to tell you that he misses you when he’s gone, wanting to spend all the time he could with you. 

“Well, I’ll be there tomorrow night, front row wearing number forty-three.” You told him, your lips turned up into a smile. It was contagious causing Luke’s to do the same. He loved when you wore his jersey. 

“See you tomorrow.” Luke said, giving you a quick hug. You didn’t let go though, leaning up to give him a kiss on the cheek. 

“See you tomorrow, Luke.” You said, turning quickly to the door and heading back inside the party. 

Luke stayed frozen in the hall, staring ahead. He didn’t miss the way Scott was watching the two of you. He must have watched you kiss Luke. You kissed Luke. On the cheek. Something neither of you have done before. The most you have done was hug each other but never kissed. Luke was glad you went back inside so you couldn’t see the blush creeping onto his cheeks. 

Luke wasn’t exactly sure how he made it back to his and Jack’s apartment but he did. It was like he was on autopilot. Locking the door behind him. Slipping his shoes off and hanging his coat up. “Luke?! Is that you?! You’re back early.” Jack called from his spot on the couch where Luke left him earlier in the evening. 

“Y/N kissed me.” Was all Luke said before heading to his room leaving Jack shocked.

“What the fuck.” He mumbled, surprised at his brother's confession. Jack immediately rang Quinn to inform him of the revelation, ignoring the time difference.

“This better be good.” Quinn greeted, sighing at being interrupted and wondering why his brother is still up so late.

“Hello to you too.” Jack said, rolling his eyes. “Thought you’d want to know Y/N kissed Luke.”

“What?!” He shouted down the phone. “Are you sure? When? What?!” Quinn was lost for words. He knew his brother was madly in love with you and that you were madly in love back, anyone with eyes could see that except you two. Their mom also picked up on it. 

“I don’t know. He didn’t elaborate.” Jack said. “It’s time though.”

“Jack, don’t.” Quinn warned, knowing exactly what he was on about. This wasn’t the first time he brought it up but Quinn was insistent that they shouldn’t meddle in their brother’s love life. Jack was bored of waiting for either of you to make the first move and decided to take matters into his own hands.

“Too late. The plan has been made. Operation get Luke a girlfriend is a go.” Jack said, ignoring his brother's concern and hanging up on him. 

-x-

Jack had a plan. It wasn't a great plan and Nico told him that at any opportunity he could. All he could do was shake his head at his teammates' antics knowing that once Jack had an idea there was no way to stop him. 

“We need to somehow find out if Y/N is dating this Scott guy.” Jack said, his voice low in case his brother walked in. They had just finished practice and were sat in their stalls in various states of undress. Jesper and Dawson leant forward, hanging on every word. 

“We could just ask them? Aren't they coming to the game tonight?” Nico suggested while Jack gave him an incredulous look, like that was the craziest idea he's heard. 

“Or we could invite them round to the team party and ask them about how their life is?” Dawson piped up. 

“Yes! That's it!” Jack exclaimed, making Nico roll his eyes because that was basically his idea, just more straightforward. 

“Won't Luke ask Y/N to come?” Nico asked. 

“Nah he's freaking the fuck out that he's ruined their friendship or something.” Jack told them. He finally got it out of his brother what had happened last night. That you were talking to this guy, Scott, and then you kissed him when saying goodbye and then you haven't messaged him about the kiss. Luke was convinced it was the end of the friendship he knew and loved. “So we gotta give them a little push.”

Nico shook his head, getting up to go to the shower just as Luke was coming into the locker room. “This is a terrible idea.” He mumbled, wanting no part of it. 

-x-

Your eyes lit up when you saw Luke leaving the locker room, your lips tugged into a smile just as bright. The Devils had just won so you're not sure why your best friend didn't look his usual happy self after a win. His eyes landed on you, surprised you're here and wearing his jersey. He made his way over to you, his strides large so it didn't take long for him to stand in front of you. 

“You still came?” Luke said, struggling to hide the surprise in his tone. He could feel his finger twitch by his side, the urge to tuck the stray bit of hair behind your ear strong.

“Of course I came. Did you not want me to come?” You asked, worried that you overstepped. You looked down at your shoes, wanting to hide from his gaze. 

“No, no. I'm glad you came. I want you to be here. It's just- I didn't hear from you all day so I didn't know if you were still coming.” Luke stuttered out, hating that the thought of him not wanting you here crossed your mind. “I want you here, Y/N.” He reiterated, silently pleading for you to look at him again. 

“I'm sorry I didn't message you today. I had a little too much to drink after you left and then I didn't wake up until midday. I thought you'd be too busy at that point so I didn't want to bother you.” You admitted, looking back up at him. Luke wanted to tell you that he's never too busy for you. It was on the tip of his tongue but as always his brother has the best timing.

“Y/N!” Jack exclaimed the moment his eyes landed on you. 

“Hey Jack.” You smiled at the older boy. “Great game tonight.”

“Thanks Y/N.” He grinned, not realising he was interrupting something or not caring. “You're coming to the team meal, right?”

“Team meal?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed. You looked at Luke hoping for some clarification.

“I was going to tell you.” He told you, rubbing the back of his neck. “The team is having a little get together next weekend and you're invited if you want to come.” Luke could kill his brother right now. He was going to ask you himself but now he’s worried you're going to think he didn’t want you there. The rational side of him knows he's just overthinking however ever since the kiss his thoughts have been in overdrive.

“I'd love to come. As long as I'm not intruding.” You said, biting your lip slightly, a nervous habit of yours. You always felt a little weird going to team events, official or unofficial ones, as Luke’s plus one because you weren't dating. That fact you were very much aware of. 

“You're not intruding, Y/N. All the guys would love it if you came.” Jack assured you. “Besides, we need someone to keep this guy in check.” He teased earning an eye roll and a playful shove from Luke and a giggle from you. 

“Well I'll be there.” You confirmed. “Do you need me to bring anything?” 

“Oh, errm, I think Cap is sorting all that out so better ask him.” Luke told you, trying to get you to leave for a moment so he could curse his brother out.

“I'll go and do that.” You said, spotting Nico across the corridor. You gave Luke's hand a little squeeze and smiled at him. “I won't be a sec.”

Luke watched you go over to Nico and Dawson, waiting until you were out of an earshot before scowling at his brother. “Why on earth would you mention the dinner when you know I haven't asked them yet.” 

“Didn't know you actually were going to ask them.” Jack shrugged. He was trying to hide the amusement this situation gave him. 

“Well I was and now Y/N's going to think I don't want them there.” He hissed, keeping his voice low so you can't hear them. 

“They're not going to think that.” Jack told his brother even though he knew it was no use. Once Luke had something in his head it was hard to change his mind. “Y/N is in love with you! It's so obvious but you refuse to see it.”

“We're just friends.” Luke insisted, trying to convince himself more than Jack. 

“Friends don't do what Y/N does. Friends don't kiss.” He pointed out. Luke clenched his jaw, trying not to make a scene. That was the last thing he wanted right now. All he wanted was for Jack to shut up, to stop him giving him hope knowing it'd only bring him heartbreak. Luke couldn't handle your rejection. 

“I'm not interrupting am I?” You asked, your smile fell when your gaze landed on Luke. You rarely saw Luke angry. You knew he got angry on the ice but this was different. The last time you saw him like this, eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched, was at a bar and some creep was hitting on you, not taking no for an answer. 

“Not at all.” Jack said, slightly shaking his head at his brother before walking away, leaving the tension hanging. Luke was about to follow but you grabbed his hand, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Is everything okay?” You asked, willing for Luke to look at you instead of staring ahead. 

“Everything's fine, Y/N.” He hoped you would let it go. The problem with being best friends though is you know when something is wrong. 

“Luke, you don't have to keep things from me. I know something is wrong.” You said, searching his face for any reaction, the silence killing you. “D-did I do something wrong? Please tell me if I did something wrong.” 

“I-I'm sorry.” He had to get out of there. It broke his heart being the cause of your hurt but he didn't want to make things worse. “Jack’s my ride and I-I have to go.” Luke stuttered out before walking away to join his brother. 

“Luke, wait.” You pleaded softly but it was no use. He was gone. You didn't want to cause a scene so you willed the tears that threatened to fall to wait until you got home. 

“You alright, Y/N?” Nico asked, making you jump slightly not realising there were people still in the corridor.

“I'm fine.” You said with a forced smile. Nico saw right through it but he didn't want to bring it up. What he was going to do is kill Jack. He knew it was a terrible idea to interfere with Luke’s love life and now he may have ruined their friendship. “I better go too. Got a lot of work to catch up on. Great game tonight though.” You rushed out before hurrying to your car, wanting to put as much space as possible between you and the arena. 

The moment you got home you made a beeline to your room, ignoring your roommates calls. You threw Luke’s jersey off, the material feeling uncomfortable on your skin. You were spiralling, pacing the room as your mind went over every little detail from the past couple of days. One minute you were discussing summer plans and inviting him round to your party and the next you're kissing him. That's when the realisation hit. 

“You're home early.” Your roommate said, leaning against the doorframe. “Thought you'd be hanging out with Luke tonight.”

“He probably doesn't wanna see me ever again.” You mumbled, face down on your bed. 

“Don't be ridiculous of course he does. You're his best friend.” She sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed. “What happened?” 

“I kissed him last night.” You admitted, biting your lips slightly feeling nervous under your roommate's gaze. “And now I've ruined everything.”

“What makes you say that?” She asked and you told her everything. From the way you felt brave enough to kiss him on the cheek goodbye to not hearing from him all day. Then you told her what had happened at the rink. She listened as you spilled every thought and feeling you had without judgement. She let you get everything off your chest before chiming in. “It sounds to me that Luke is being stupid. He’s so in love with you that it’s kinda sickening sometimes. I swear he’s permanently got heart eyes whenever he sees you. Just give him a little time, you know how in his head he can get.” You nodded, taking in her advice knowing she was right. 

-x-

You weren’t going to come to the team dinner. Even though Luke has apologised for what happened after the game and you were talking again something felt off between you. It was like there was an elephant in the room that neither of you were talking about. Jack had texted you, persuading you to still come and so did Dawson and some of the other guys. That’s why you were standing in front of the door, finding the motivation to knock on the door.

Nico was the first to greet you, answering the door when you finally knocked. He took your coat, hanging it up on the coat rack by the door while you walked down the hallway to the living room where you were met with a chorus of hello’s. 

“Damn, Y/N! Got a hot date after that we don’t know about.” Dawson called from the breakfast bar, a drink in each hand. You couldn’t help but look down at your outfit, feeling a little self conscious. You knew he didn’t mean it in a bad way but now you were worried what you were wearing was a bit much. Luke wanted to assure you it wasn’t too much, that you looked beautiful tonight. Well to him you always did. 

“Nope. No hot date.” You told him, your eyes not leaving Luke as if it was him you were telling. They followed him as he excused himself to the kitchen, not missing the way blush dusted his cheeks. You decided to join him in the kitchen, wanting your best friend back and the only way that would happen is by talking to him. “Hey.” You greeted, making Luke jump slightly.

“Hey.” It was soft, like he didn’t want to ruin the silence. Your eyes raked over him, taking in every detail in case this was the last time you saw him. From his curly hair, which you enjoy running your fingers through, to his hands, which you miss holding.

“Please tell me if I read the situation wrong. That you didn’t want me to kiss you goodbye.” You said, your directness surprising Luke a little. “Because right now I feel like I’ve ruined everything.” You waited for an answer, the silence killing you. Your eyes flickered over Luke’s face looking for any reaction, willing for him to respond, but nothing. 

You took that as your answer, leaving Luke alone in the kitchen and heading out of the front door, grabbing your coat on the way. You didn’t care if everyone saw what happened. At this rate you would never see the team again. You didn’t stick around long enough to hear their concerned questions or to see Luke realise what you were saying.

“Y/N, wait!” Luke called after you, running down the street in a t-shirt and jeans. Even after everything you were concerned he was going to catch a cold or something.

“Luke, what are you doing? Where’s your coat? You’re going to get ill.” You rushed out, fretting over him. He hadn’t even noticed he didn’t grab his coat. That was the last thing on his mind, the first being you.

“I don’t care. I had to catch up with you.” He told you, pulling you to the side so you weren’t in peoples' way. “I’m sorry.”

“Luke-” You sighed but he continued, wanting to get everything off his chest.

“Y/N, I’m sorry I’ve been a shit friend recently. I’ve just been so in my head about everything and that’s not an excuse but I’m sorry. If anyone’s ruined anything it’s me.” Luke rambled. “You kissed me but I thought you were going out with Scott so I tried to put distance between us which was very stupid of me because I realised I hate being apart from you. I liked that you kissed me though.”

“Y-you did?” You asked.

“Yes and I wish I could kiss you back this time.” Luke said, cupping your cheeks with his hands. They were cold but you didn’t mind. It felt natural, like they were where they belonged. “If you want me to, that is.” He added, not wanting to overstep. You didn’t trust your voice to reply to him, to tell him yes you wanted to kiss him. That you wanted him to do that for the longest time. You leaned up, brushing your lips against his, an invitation for him to kiss you. It was soft, Luke wanting to savour every bit of it. Your lips were sweet from your lip balm, a fact he would remember for a long time. “I love you, Y/N, and I’m so sorry I was too chicken to do anything about it too.”

“Well you weren’t the only one who was scared.” You assured him. “I love you too.” Luke couldn’t help but smile hearing those words come out of your mouth. You leaned up to kiss him again, his cold skin touching yours making you shiver. “Let’s head back and get you warmed up.” You said about to walk back to Nico’s apartment when Luke stopped you.

“Or we could just go back to mine.” He suggested, not wanting to go back to everyone just yet. 

“Fine but you’re having a warm shower. I can’t have your mom or your coach kill me because you got sick.” You told him. 

“But it’d be worth it though.” Luke grinned and he was right. It would be worth it because you are in love with your best friend.

[lucidfairies]

money [a.a]

pairing: ceo!abby x secretary!reader

synopsis: when you finally land the job of your dreams, you had no idea what your boss would be like. and damn, no idea you conjured could've done her justice.

warnings: top!abby, bottom!reader, age gap (reader is in her 20s, abby is in her early 40s), cunnilingus (r/a receiving), strap (r!receiving), praise + degradation, mommy kink, dirty talk, manhandling, pet names (sweetheart, sweet girl, angel, baby, whore, slut)

word count: 3.3k

it wasn't everyday that you landed a job with one of the most well known law firms in washington. for now you were just a secretary, someone to sit outside of an office and take calls, but your hope was to work your way up to one of their lawyers.

you had little prior experience with being a secretary, but it was just enough to get you this gig. the building was large, and the office you were to assist was on one of the highest floors, naturally where the head of the firm was.

you knew her, abby anderson. incredibly talented lawyer who even won over a supreme court case. though you hadn't met her in person, you were exhilarated to meet her. she was who you dreamed to be, especially by her age.

it wasn't until your third day, when abby was finally in the office, when you got a glimpse of what working here would actually look like. abby showed up in a well pressed black suit, armani logo drilling into your eyes like a laser, making you feel all that underdressed.

"do I know you?" she asked when you knocked gently on her office door and went in. she truly didn't mean to be rude - her son had been sick for three days and she was feeling it now - but you didn't know that. you automatically assumed she was an asshole, and that threw you off.

you cleared your throat, meeting her eyes and immediately shifting them again. she was intimidating, almost scary. "I'm y/n. I'm your new assistant." she looked you up and down, gaze still burning your skin, and the corner of her mouth turned up to a smirk.

"great. I take my coffee black, nothing in it. there will be a card on your desk that you can charge it to every morning. get yourself something. I expect you to leave before I do, as I stay late. by any chance, do you babysit?" your eyes found hers as you finally looked up.

"I mean, I can. I used to when-" she cut you off, uninterested in anything except the yes. you noted that for later.

"I might need you to pick up my son from school every couple weeks. not often, and certainly not until I've run a background check on you." she wasn't hardly looking at you now, eyes flipping between her papers and computer. "did I miss anything?"

"no ma'am," you said, standing up and instinctively wiping off your skirt, though there was nothing there. suddenly you were back at your desk, waiting for calls and bookings to come in while trying to make sense of that interaction.

the next day you arrived late, but in your defense, the line at the coffee place was long and traffic was even longer, and now you weren't even sure that the coffee was hot. abby was there when you gently knocked on her door, allowing your entry with a low 'come in.

"I'm so sorry I'm late, there was really bad traffic and the line-"

"it's okay, sweet girl." your stomach flipped. yesterday, when your eyes knew nothing but the floor, you hadn't exactly taken in her appearance, but today. today.

today she was in a black turtleneck, sleeves right around the muscle in her arms that just made her look so, so good. her black slacks were tight at her hips with a belt, and they were hugging her legs so tight that you were sure the seam would rip.

her hair was pulled into a nice bun and she wore no makeup, not that she ever needed to. she had freckles, beautiful eyes. rings. she had rings, that she could put inside of you any day.

"I'll be on time tomorrow, miss." your gaze dropped again as you turned to leave her office. this was surely going to be nothing but torture for the following months.

two weeks later was the first time she asked you to stay late. you originally had plans, but the way your name dripped off of her tongue like honey made you immediately cancel them. she had asked you politely to pick up her son, and you even acquired her number from the ordeal.

dealing with kids was not your specialty, but abby's son was a delight. he talked all about his mom, some about his dad and it made you wonder if abby was single or not. she never wore a ring to your knowledge, not even on a necklace, and from your speculation she almost looked like a lesbian. maybe you were just dreaming about the end.

if you had taken your apartment and multiplied it by ten, it still wouldn't be half the size of abby's house. she truly did have money, if the armani suits and porsche didn't say that already.

an hour into your babysitting, which almost just felt like hanging out with a kid in a mansion, abby got home. she walked in, greeting you with the first real smile you had ever seen on her face. your brain malfunctioned when you gently placed her hand on your arm and pressed an innocent kiss onto your cheek.

you were blushing profusely, pupils blown, almost dizzy, all she did was kiss your cheek, a very normal way of greeting someone and you were fucked. abby didn't fail to see you run your fingers over the spot and look at them before quickly turning back towards the two of them.

abby lived for it. lived for the you drooled over everything she did, lived for the way that she was sure her fingers would look so, so good in your mouth... and she tried not to think about it. how could she, when her son was standing right next to her, trying to tell her about his day, and you. you just looked so innocent.

you were engulfed in her smell, the perfect balance of pine and amber and erotica. she smelled like five hundred dollar cologne right off the shelf of valentino. you wanted to smell like that, wanted to smell like that, wanted to wear her clothes and have everyone think that you were together.

"thanks for coming, sweetheart. I'll see you on monday." you looked at her with your brows knit, knowing you had work the following day, friday. "take the day off. you did something for me, and I'm repaying you. use my card and get something."

the amount of money she had to just throw around was so attractive to you. she was an independent woman who brought in millions every year and was letting some secretary she had known for three weeks let buy anything on a day off.

monday had arrived, and you had purchased nothing with abby's card, naturally. you weren't one to spend someone's money just because they had a lot of it, or because they told you to. she would've had to buy it for you to accept it, at that.

it was nearing eleven when abby called you into her office by your first name, instead of one of the many nicknames she always seems to use. "sit." she demanded as you stepped in, and you did so.

"is something wrong, ms. anderson?" she wasn't mad, but she was irritated. she told you to do something, told you to put yourself first and you didn't.

"I told you to treat yourself on friday," her gaze left her laptop and met your eyes. "why didn't you?" you blanked for a moment.

"I just.. I didn't feel right spending money that wasn't mine." she gave you a disapproving look, before getting up and coming around her desk to stand in front of you. in a matter of moments, one of her large hands was grabbing your jaw and forcing your head up to look at her.

she bent down slightly, lips grazing over yours, and you were sure she could feel how much your face heated up. "next time I tell you to do something, you're going to do it. understand, sweet girl?"

"I don't-" your pupils were blown and you were so desperate for her to press her lips just a bit closer, fill the gap and just let you have it.

"say 'yes abby'."

"y-yes abby." she let go of your face and went back to her desk, pretending to pay you little attention, but she was acutely aware of the way you pushed your thighs together and squirmed.

"you're dismissed. I expect to see a charge by the morning." you got up and hurried out, going straight to the bathroom. your face was burning up, and you could vaguely see an imprint from her hand.

you were meaninglessly circling the mall, trying to decide what to spend this newfound money on. obviously you wouldn't get something big and glamorous, no matter how much she seemingly wanted you to.

every time you walked, you seemed to pass victoria's secret. It seemed like it was calling you to buy something, and after that interaction with abby earlier, you decided that maybe you should treat yourself and went in.

you looked around for a while before finding a cute blue set, with embroidered, lacy flowers. it was nothing special, just transparent and high waisted, but it was speaking to you. suddenly you knew what you were wearing to work the next day.

- - -

you felt completely scandalous wearing a short little skirt over the lingerie in the morning, with a button down, where the first few buttons were unbuttoned. it was different from your usual dress pants and blouse, but it definitely did what you needed it to do.

work was as usual for the majority of the morning, and you were suddenly doubting why you wore what you did. there was no point, you were seriously delusional and seriously needed help. what kind of freak where's lingerie and completely inappropriate work clothes to work after one minor interaction with their boss?

that was until you got a simple email from ms. anderson herself, reading nothing but;

my office. now, please.

you cleared your throat, brushed out your hair slightly and adjusted your shirt before nonchalantly entering her office. you sat, observing the way she remained quiet for a moment before clearing her desk and turning her attention towards you.

“did you think I wouldn't realize?” she asked, cooly, with her eyebrows raised slightly. “I mean, props to you, you did as you were told. but I checked the card. I'm not the only one who can see the transactions on that card either, sweetheart.”

you were immediately red. who else could see them? “I didn't r-really think-”

“no, you didn't. I bet the men in my finances would love to see you dancing around in whatever you bought, wouldn't they, baby?” she was standing before you could think, hands resting on the handles of your chair. “why don't you show me, huh? I know you're wearing it.”

“I'm not- we can't do that here.” you looked around, though you knew no one would ever bother her and her office had no cameras. “we're at work, abigail.” there was a fast switch in her eyes, the way they went from cocky to wide, almost needy.

“fuck,” her head dropped into the crook of your neck before she ran her nose along your jaw. “say it again. please, baby.” her tone, the gentle pleading made any rational thoughts disappear from your mind. your hand wrapped around the collar of her button down and pulled her in gently.

“abigail,” you whispered, “I want this,” with that, her hands were everywhere, all at once. she was pulling you up, wrapping her large hands around your hips as she pulled you in for a harsh kiss. she was forcing you onto her desk, keeping her lips to yours as your bodies molded to each other.

she left your lips, finding a perfect spot on your neck and sucking. you gasped when you felt her hand undoing the buttons of your shirt and pulling it out of your skirt. you were grabbing her by her waist trying to pull her closer as she continued to mark up your neck and grab your tits.

when she finally pulled away from your neck, her eyes became wide looking at your lingerie clad tits. you slid your shirt the rest of the way off and tossed it, looking up at her as you began to unbutton hers. she didn't let you get very far before she was gently pushing you back until your back was against the cool wood of the desk.

she unclipped your bra and pulled it off, tongue immediately meeting your nipple. she bit it and you yelped, grabbing her shoulders. her large hand was messing with your other, tugging gently and kneading. "I love your tits so fucking much, baby.” she mumbled into your skin while she kissed down your stomach.

she left more hickies on your ribs, but you desperately needed her in one place. she was pulling your skirt down in seconds, pressing her tongue against you like it was nothing and watching you arch and moan. she was eating you out through your underwear for a minute, before you grabbed her hair and pulled her head up.

"take them off." she smirked, and her head tilted slightly to the side.

"who said you're in charge, sweet angel?" the nickname was new, but you fucking loved that she always called you sweet. you were something sweet to her, and that made your brain lag every time.

"abby please," you bucked into her, chasing friction. that's when you felt it; the large bulge in her slacks that you hadn't noticed earlier.

"feel that, baby? that's all for you." she pulled down your underwear slowly, tossing it in the pile of clothes. she spread your lips, watching slick connect and drip down your thighs. your face burned and you covered it, embarrassed. "uncover your face or I'll stop." you did as told.

she pulled a ponytail off her wrist and pulled her hair into a bun before pressing her tongue into your clit and licking a fat stripe. your head hit the desk with a thud, reveling at the feeling. she worked your clit, sucking it into her mouth and painting patterns with her tongue while she pressed a finger into entrance.

she used her free hand to hold you down by your stomach, since your squirming was messing her up. you whined when she added a second finger, not used to her thick fingers. "if you can't take my fingers, how am I supposed to fuck you with my strap?" you moaned at her words, loving the dirtiness of it.

she returned to your clit and you got loud when she curled her fingers up into the best spot, whimpering and groaning. she remembered the time when you pressed your fingers to your cheek in her house, and brought her unused hand to your mouth, tapping your chin lightly. "open your mouth and suck," she instructed, noticing your confused look.

you took two of her fingers in your mouth and sucked them, which shut you up. your stomach coiled, a warm feeling rushing between your legs before you could even mumble a word. it felt like you just kept coming, until she finally pulled away from your cunt.

"are you gonna give me another one, angel?" she was unclipped her belt while you caught your breath. "wanna fuck you all day." she pulled her pants and boxers down just barely enough to get her strap out. "flip over, ass up." you turned over, fucked out muscles aching.

she ran the tip of her strap between your folds, letting your wetness lube it up, then lined up with your hole. she pushed just the tip in, groaning at the way you took it so well and swallowed her in. "what if I just fucked you like this, huh?" you whined.

"please.. need more," you pushed your hips back slightly, trying to push her in further. she pulled out, simply pushing the tip back in.

"desperate fucking whore," she thrust in on the last word, bottoming out immediately. you whimpered, the strap stretching you far more than her fingers. "aw, baby, does that hurt?" she pulled out far and fucked into you again.

she started fucking you, deep and hard, until you were moaning and grabbing onto the desk, trying to stabilize yourself. one of her hands left your hips and grabbed your hair, wrapping it around her fist and tugging. "fuck.. abby- abs.. mommy,”

your eyes widened at the name, which came out unintentionally. she stopped momentarily before groaning and picking her pace back up rapidly. "call me that again." the tip of her strap kissed your cervix and bumped against your g-spot every time. her arm wrapped around your waist, flicking your clit.

"mommy.. m'gonna cum." you slurred, cock drunk and fucked out. she kept her pace, hardly changing anything except for the fact that she was louder now, finding the perfect angle to get the harness to hit her clit.

"just wait a second, my love,” you held it for as long as you could, but it became too much, and she was hitting just right. your mind went absolutely blank as your vision went white, a wave crashing over you as you came.

you could hear abby moaning, but you were still going, and unable to think of anything. “fuck baby, you make such a mess.” you relaxed your tense body and look over your shoulder at abby's soaked harness, pants, and desk.

“m’sorry.” she slowly pulled her strap out and unclipped it front her hips, letting you lay for another minute before she grabbed your hips and helped you flip over and sit up. “wanna make you cum, mommy.” you looked at her with doe eyes, watching her eyes darken.

“I already came, sweetheart. don't worry about me.” you brought your hand down to cup her cunt and she took in a sharp breath. you ground your palm against her clit and she groaned, shifting her stance from foot to foot.

you slid off the desk with wobbly legs and kneeled in front of her, pupils blown. “please mommy,” you ran your nails over her abs and under her boxer strap lightly, making her muscles tense.

“such a slut, aren't you? want mommy to fuck your face?” you nodded, pulling her boxers down to her ankles. her blonde bush matched her hair, and you noticed her happy trail that you hadn't earlier. “stick out your tongue, baby, be a good girl.”

you stuck your tongue out flat, not even getting a chance to lick before she was pressing her cunt to your mouth. she fucked herself on your face, gripping your hair tight and grinding fast. you gently pushed her against the desk, lifting one of her legs to your shoulder and leaving the other one down.

she must have loved the new angle, because she was moaning and grunting more than you had ever heard her. her clit was twitching and puffy, wet from your spit and her slick. she let out an involuntary whimper, and it was like music to your ears. “gonna c-cum on your f-fucking face, angel.”

her legs shook as she came, ans you spent the following moments licking all of it up. you pulled away and stood up, still shaky. she pulled her boxers and slacks up, moving towards the pile of clothes and handing you what was yours. “do you wanna get dinner tonight?” she stopped what she was doing to button up your shirt and zip your skirt.

“yeah, that's great.” she smiled, kissing you softly.

“you can go home if you want to clean up. I can take my own calls for a few minutes.” it was your turn to smile, grateful to get out of your uncomfortable, wet clothes.

“I'll see you tonight?” you asked, looking over your shoulder once you got to the door.

“pick you up at seven.”

a/n: part two? 🤭

tag list: @shewantstoknow @baumbii @zombholic

[wosofutbolfan]

I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar

Alexia Putellas x Explorer!R

8.5k Fluff, Fun, Minor Angst

Hi Guys,

This is pt4. in the 'I Would Climb Every Mountain With You" otherwise known as Explorer!R Universe. TW: description of killing an animal.

Highly recommend you read those 3 first, as this is entrenched in lore. Pt 1 can be found here.

It's developed from an ask I received from @karsonromanoff so thank you so much for the idea! I hope I did it justice and I'm sorry for the delay and the words. ha.

This is the first time I've written since my dad died. I'm not being emo or heavy about it but I am asking to please, be kind. I know there's nice people out there but often they're drowned out by the loud haters.

So throw us a comment, like or reblog if you enjoyed. I'm just trying to get back into something that brought me joy. I know I enjoyed writing it.

Also, may be weird for a fic about a spanish gay footballer, but you probably need a good working knowledge of Bear Grylls to understand 80% of this. ha.

As has become tradition, here's the song running though my head when writing! Yes, my music taste remains to be that of someone born in 1962. God love Helen Reddy.

“Vamos Ale! I don’t like to make Miguel wait…” you shout from the kitchen, bag resting on the countertop as you try to fix your bracelet with your left hand,

“Deja de preocuparte, a él no le importa, I will be one minute…” you head called back from the bedroom where your wife had been getting dressed for 2 hours now.

Yes.

Your wife.

Sometimes you couldn’t believe it.

Sometimes the weight of the band on your finger catches you by surprise and you’d remember.

Sometimes Alexia would place her hand on your bare thigh and you could feel the cool metal on your skin and you’d remember.

Sometimes you’d get called “Mrs Putellas” at a school talk, or at the Doctors, and you’d remember.

It felt so natural that sometimes you’d forget that you weren’t always Alexia's wife.

But now you are. And had been for almost 6 months. And married life couldn’t have suited you more.

Your wedding ring was your new favourite accessory, you never took it off.

In a fire you would save Alexia and your ring.

Maybe even your ring first.

It was embossed with the imprint of grass that Alexia has been collecting from each pitch of each game she had played in since you had met. The intricate design brought tears to your eyes as soon as you saw it. Made even worse by the inscription “’cause you are my goal”. 

You would be embarrassed if Alexia hadn’t cried like a toddler when you presented her with the ring you had made for her, which had rock from each of the 7 peaks you had scaled, as well as a granule of sand from the Dead Sea set within it. Integrated into the metal, visible but smooth to the touch. 

The inscription 'every mountain high, every valley low' on the inside of the band.

You knew you’d done good and you knew your Ale well enough to anticipate the absolute mess she would be when presented with it, ensuring you had a pocket full of tissues for the inevitable waterfall.

You weren’t wrong.

You had to assure a passing couple on the trail you had chosen that she was fine, not having a medical incident and you were definitely not mid break-up but in fact exchanging wedding bands early because you knew your fiance well enough she didn’t need her teammates to witness this much of her soft side.

Though you tried, they still saw enough on your wedding day to tease her for the last 6 months with no sign of slowing down.

Though right now your wife's behaviour was nothing but unexpected. You had agreed to attend one of Alexia's events this evening. Since getting married you had felt more of a duty to attend and make up for the years you’d left her carrying her own handbag whilst you trotted over mountains on the other side of the world. 

She insisted that you didn’t have to. Like she always did. You weren’t one for the fancy dresses and the flashing cameras. But you saw the gleam of hope in her eyes as she insisted she would be fine on her own.

You couldn’t let that sparkle dim.

Also you had to set off for a camp in a few days and you had gotten seriously stuck in the honeymoon phase meaning that an evening without your wife by your side wasn’t something you could stomach.

Not that you would admit to being so clingy.

But it wasn’t like Ale to take so long to get ready, neither of you being particularly fussy, usually she would throw on some light makeup, smack your bum whilst you ate nutella off a knife under the hob light, procrastinating getting ready until she dragged you and dropped you into the ensuite, steal a kiss and a spray of perfume, and wait for you whilst watching old football clips in the living room.

But now, as you still struggled to attach the clasp of your bracelet and you had one eye on the poor Barca driver, Miguel, waiting in your driveway, you started to grow frustrated at your wife's sudden vanity.

You smelt her perfume invading your senses as you felt her arms envelope you from behind, moving your uncoordinated left hand away and easily attaching the clasp of your bracelet for you, pressing a kiss to your neck as she did so.

“Finalmente… Let’s g-...” you spoke as you turned in her embrace, finally taking in her attire which stopped you in your tracks.

“Boobs”

You had suddenly turned into a 14 year old boy and you couldn’t explain it.

You had seen your wife naked hundreds of times.

Hundreds of fantastic times.

But here she stood looking, regal. Her hair falling lightly over her face, her dark sparkly dress with wide shoulders and only what you could describe as a boob portal you had been rendered speechless. Mouth gaping open like a fish.

“...Amor?...” you heard the delight in her voice. “Are you listening to me… my eyes are up here.” she jokingly clicked her fingers in front of your face which took you out of your breast-inspired trance.

“Ale you are so beautiful” you looked deeply into her eyes but you didn’t miss the blush rising from her neck. And you meant it. She was. Wow. 

“Do you like it?” she asked, shyly, “You don’t think it’s too much? It’s just the first event we’ve gone to together since we got married and I wanted to…”

You interrupt her but pressing a kiss to her lips, and, well, if you slipped a little tongue in there then fine. She was your wife after all.

“What? Show the world what they're missing out on? I am so proud to stand by your side, my love.” you whispered into her lips, as you toyed with her wedding band. 

You couldn’t help yourself…”and your boobs are fantastic.” 

She barked out a laugh as you leaned back into where you left off, but she took a step back, her heel clicking against the tile floor, to which you let out an annoyed grumble.

“Oi Oi, Mi Amor. What about poor Miguel, he is waiting, Si?” she teased.

“He doesn’t care… Cálla y bésame.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You took a deep breath and leaned back on your chair at the round table you found yourself at. Alexia had been pulled from your side which she had stuck to like glue all evening,  to go and present the final award of the evening which she had just done, very sexily if you do say so yourself. All confident and boob-y.

You smiled, imagining her now making small talk backstage, eyes bored but a smile plastered on her face as she tried to make her way back to your table.

Your other table-mates seemed to take the opportunity of the break in the ceremony to raid the free bar put on by the charity. Which seemed very uncharitable of them. But, as you toyed with the rim of your glass, who were you to judge?

Stomach full from a mediocre-mass produced meal and head happily fuzzy from the bubbles you had consumed you found yourself oddly satisfied as you sat here. In this conference room-turned auditorium in the middle of Barcelona, here, loudly and proudly as Alexia's wife.

Mrs Putellas.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, you felt weirdly grown-up. With your wife, your house, and your business. You blinked and missed yourself becoming so settled and for once in your life you weren’t terrified of the idea.

You saw the glint in Alexia's eye. When Irene and her wife would come round for dinner and bring their kid. She’d surrender all hostess duties and sit on the living room floor, crawling around at the beck and call of whatever imaginary game the 5 year old insisted on. You’d seen her perfect her lion roar in that very spot. It probably matched the glint in yours when you were grocery shopping and a child being pushed in a trolley would go past shoving cookies into the trolley without their Mother seeing.

Maybe, you thought, maybe it was time…

“It is you! I am so sorry to interrupt. I had to come over to introduce myself. I am such a fan…”

You glanced around, expecting Alexia to be standing over your shoulder and smiling politely at the person who had approached your table to meet her… but you were met with blank space and then you engaged your silly brain and realised the person was speaking English and looking at you and…

Oh My God.

It’s Bear Grylls.

“Oh My God. You’re Bear Grylls.” 

You let out. 

Stupidly.

Standing and thrusting your hand out like an idiot to your legitimate childhood hero.

You and your brother would watch his series for hours as children. Sat cross-legged 2 inches from the TV on your living room floor, eating up every second of his adventures. Your mum had to stop you from eating a woodlouse once in your garden because you’d seen him eat a cricket in the Amazon the evening before. Your brother smacked upside the head for trying to drink a cup of his own wee for the same reason.

Now you were a well-seasoned adventurer yourself you knew that all of that was for theatricks. 

You had spent more than 7 weeks wandering the Amazon yourself once, and not one drop of urine passed your lips. Not one 8 legged insect had you gulped down in one.

But still.

Hero.

He took your hand graciously, as you both sat back down you prepared to barrage him with questions but before you could he jumped right in…

“I have been wanting to meet you for years. But my team said you had disappeared off to Spain and couldn’t be tracked down. Please, I've been desperate to know. .. Tell me all about summiting Orjas del Salado…”

So you told him, and you asked him about his adventures, and you chatted for what could have been hours, sharing stories and advice with Bear-fucking-Grylls.

He blushed as you pointed out his for-TV tricks and you thanked him for being a portal into the wider world from your living room.

At some point you felt Alexia return, a strong hand on your shoulder. You paused your monologue about Patagonia and giddily took her hand in yours, introducing them to each other. 

Polite pleasantries exchanged you could tell she had legitimately no idea what was going on or who this middle-aged English guy at your table was, but judging from your excited eyes, she didn’t need to interrupt.

It didn’t take too long for someone from his team to pull him away for an interview with the charity. But as you stood to say your goodbyes he made an offer, “You know, me and the production company are making a special about survival in the Alps… I would love for you to be a guest star.”

You stood there like a gaping fish for a moment. “Really?” you asked, in wonder, your 7 year old self spinning around in glee in your chest. Alexia smiling up at you from her chair at the joy in your voice.

“Of course! I would be honored, it’s especially about how to survive in an Avalanche situation. Obviously, with what happened in Nepal…you are an expert in that fie…”

At that point, Alexia stopped her polite silence she had been maintaining whilst you had your moment with your childhood hero. And abruptly stood, clutching your hand hard in both of hers, stern look on her face.

“No.”

From the look on his face you gathered that this successful upper-middle class white English man had not been told no too often, and a beat of silence followed which Alexia was more than happy to fill.

“Sorry Señor Oso. She doesn’t do snow now. Thank you for the offer though.”

She said it with such finality that even you didn’t think to question it. Her mis-translation brought a smile to your face. Her hands still encompassed yours, her eyes didn’t leave his face. As though daring him to rebuff her.

He looked at you as though to confirm she could answer for you. Of course she could. But you knew this refusal wasn’t just about you, but about her also. You knew the anxiety it would cause her for you to put yourself in that situation wasn’t worth anything on this planet.

Nevermind the trauma it would dredge up for you. So obviously, you agreed.

“Sorry Mr Grylls. Not my rodeo anymore. I’ve got some contacts though who you could work with” you politely confirmed your refusal and felt Alexias hands lessen their grip on yours in relief.

“No, no, of course. Sorry. But no. I would really love for you to be involved in the series. We have an episode about promoting women in outdoor pursuits. It's still on the drawing board, but if you are interested I’ll get our people to liaise with each other!”

“That sounds amazing but… I don’t have any people for you to…”

“Don’t be silly Mi Amor” Alexia interrupts again, hand still in yours and the other expertly reaching into her clutch and pushing a card into his outstretched hand… “We have people. Please, Oso, be in touch.”

Smiling vaguely and confusedly at your wife, still clearly mildly terrified of her, he takes the card as he's dragged away by his handler. He's probably still in hearing distance as you squeal in glee and throw yourself into your wife's arms, making her spin with the momentum.

“Ale, Ale, Ale!!! Do you know who that was….” you exclaim.

She can’t help but laugh aloud at your antics, soft look on her face as she lifts you lightly off the ground to stop your spin.

“Si Mi Amor, ese era el hombre oso de la televisión. Tu favorito.” she replies with a smile on her face, speaking softly, somehow, in the middle of this event where she was the guest star, making you feel as though you were the only person in the universe.

“No.” you corrected “..eres mi favorito.” You sealed your words with a light kiss to her lips, chaste but warm.

“Ah, Si. And you have had some wine. You always get soft after wine.” she lightly rolls her eyes with affection at your gushing over her.

It’s your turn to roll your eyes as you pull her into a soft sway, your childhood hero quickly forgotten now you’re in the company of your wife.

Though the giddiness in your bones from your encounter remains.

“Si the wine.” you agree moving your lips close to her ear as you whisper, breath dancing against her cheek, your hand moves to her chest and you feel her breath falter at your closeness,

“but also your boobs.” and you quickly poke her exposed chest between her breasts before she can stop you, and you move away from her pulling her behind you as you rush off to the bar.

“Amor!” she cackles.

“Vamos Ale! A La Barra!”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Estoy Muerta.”

You grumble in complaint into the chest of the warm and moving pillow that you had clearly settled on in the night.

“Shh Ale.”

“Me estoy muriendo y a mi esposa no le importa.”

“You are not dying Ale. You are hungover and over 30”, you mumble in reply, moving away from resting on her chest, the heat becoming too much for your own fuzzy brain.

“Explain to me how that is different.” she doesn’t take kindly to your light chuckle in reply, as you move your hand to cover your eyes from the sunlight starting to bleed through the curtains.

You peek an eye open and see the remnants of your previous night strewn across the bedroom floor.

You take in the glorious dress of your wifes thrown across your chest of drawers. You recall unzipping it with your mouth after making very good use of the boob portal. Much to Alexia's delight.

You had probably taken it a little bit too far at the bar. Your giddiness let your binge-drinking brit out a little too much.

You had a flash of memory at dancing on a table at a dive bar in the town centre, before being brought down by Alba who you had called and demanded come and dance the night away.

Meanwhile Alexia had been in the corner trying to drunkenly explain to Mapi a set of complicated tactics that they should try out at an additional training session in the morning.

“I thought you had scheduled extra training today Ale” you teased after taking in her pasty complexion as you rolled over and settled back down onto your, cooler, side of the bed.

“I hate you.” she replied, quite seriously, as she moulded herself against your back, taking your hand in hers and burying her face into the back of your neck.

“Of course you do, dear, it feels like it.” you tease again, wiggling yourself and making her grumble again.

You rest there for a few moments, before you’re dragged onto your back again and pulled into Alexia's embrace as she moves you around like her own personal teddy bear.

You go with the flow, quite used to your wife's clingy nature, especially when she didn't feel well.

But your silence doesn’t last two minutes before she rolls you over again, now onto your back, “Oh bloody hell, where are we going now.” you mumble, as she rests her head on your chest this time, nuzzling into your breasts.

“me estoy poniendo cómodo.” she mutters into your bosom, “allá. ahora estoy cómodo”. You run your hands through her hair, smiling down at your wife who is practically purring at the attention.

“Bebé…”, you make a noise of affirmation.

“Will you…” you know what she wants, and you know she must be feeling bad if she’s asking for attention.

“Si, my love. voy a trenzar tu cabello. One big plait or lots of little ones?”. 

“The tingly ones por favor” she mumbles into your chest. Your heart expands at her adorableness, never quite learning the English for ‘french plait’ they became known as the ‘tingly ones’ in your household, because of the feeling she would get as you plaited her wet hair after a game, hands working through her scalp. 

It brings a smile to your face and you can see the lovesick smile on hers where it is squished against your chest.

You start to section out her hair as she lies still, your ministrations slowly putting her to sleep, working methodically in the quiet morning.

Moving strand over strand in intricate braids, lightly tugging her scalp and undoing when it's not perfect and redoing, giving her an extra scratch to the soft skin behind her ear when you get there, knowing it's her most sensitive spot. Receiving a sleepy purr in satisfaction as your reward.

You hear the animals from the national park outside, feel the sun starting to warm the room around you. Her chest rising and falling against yours hypnotising you further into the moment. You’ve got grand plans, brunch and a walk along the beach in your mind, maybe a lazy afternoon swim, hold on no. Maybe a lazy afternoon skinny dip. Yeah.

That sounds good.

You’ve almost finished tying off the last plait when you are startled back into the moment by the buzzing of your wifes phone on the bedslide table.

You fight back a smile at the groan that is emitted from your fully grown-pro-athlete-wife.  It resembled that of a teenager who’d been asked to clean their room or no dessert. When she doesn’t go to make a move you nudge her shoulder.

“Ale. Ale, your phone."

“No.”

“Yes."

“No."

“C'mon Ale.” you reach across and pick the phone up. “It could be important. It could be your secret wife wondering where you are.”

She rolls off you at your tease, throwing you a glare that resembles more of an angry kitten than anything, “It could not be, she knows where I am. I snuck out whilst you were dancing on the tables in that last bar to make plans for dinner.”

“Ah, Si of course. My mistake.”

She surges up and gives you a completely unnecessary chaste kiss, as though even the joke is too much and she has to confirm she’s kidding. The phone has stopped vibrating against the bedside table and the silence that settles over you both is welcome.

“How are you so okay? I feel like I have been run over by a truck.” she states as she rubs her face, finally sitting up to start the day.

“You are old.

“I am 2 months older than you.”

“Two, very long, months my darling.” you tap her cheek lightly as you move to get out of bed, throwing on one of her oversized t-shirts you find on the floor.

“Seria, how?” she asks again, now sprawling across the space you have vacated.

“I am English. I once did a vodka shot through my eyeball in the park. I was 14.” you state, plainley, eyebrow raised in challenge as she just looks at you, open mouthed.

“Ojalá no hubiera preguntado.” she mutters, as her phone starts to ring again.

“Ale, phone.” you say, just to annoy her.

“¡lo sé!” you hear thrown at you, as you head downstairs to set some food out for Billy-the-Goat, and make a coffee for your dying wife.

Soon after, you feel her presence behind you as you stir her coffee, turning as you feel her hands wrap around your waist and presenting her coffee and she takes it from you as though it's a ballon d’or. She takes a sip before she presses a kiss to your head.

“That was my agent.”

Your heart drops, and you can’t help the petulant whine that leaves your lips.

“No, Ale! I wanted to spend the day together. Try that new brunch place Alba told us about. Have a swim, just be together. Whatever brand needs you can wait. Tell them no, please” you finish your little monologue with a pout, and you feel a childish frustration rise as a laugh teases against her lips.  You don’t get very far when a kiss is pressed against your lips.

“Well that sounds like the perfect hangover cure Mi Amor. Do you not want me to tell you what it is before I tell them no though?” there's something in her taunt, a glint in the eye that makes you think twice as your mouth already wraps around the refusal.

You take a moment too long apparently, and she takes things into her own hands as she clutches her coffee happily and spins around, “I’ll tell them no! Don’t worry Mi Amor…” teasing lilt in her tone. Whatever the news is, it has pulled her from her hangover.

You wait a beat

Another.

“Fine, What is it!” you groan out in defeat, hands raised to the sky, Alexias t-shirt riding high on your thighs as you raise your arms.

Your wife turns and is distracted momentarily by the flesh on display. Before you cough and she remembers what she's supposed to be doing. Coy smile on her face returning.

“That was my agent…” you huff out at her drawing out the anticipation. “Or should I say our agent.” your brow furrows in confusion as she continues… “she has been contacted by a muy interesado oso.”

Realisation starts to dawn on you, memories of the previous night flashing in your mind and you can’t help the grin that forms.

“Si, Mi Amor. It turns out he really meant it. She said they were willing to offer anything to get you on. She’s getting the details now and will contact us again after our day together today to see if you are interested”.

“I am interested!” you exclaim with glee, Alexia throwing her head back in laughter.

“I know Amor, but let's let them sell it to you. You need the details. Though… I am sure it is no more dangerous than ojos de vodka.”

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hola, love!” you shout into your empty hallway, hands full of groceries, you shuck off your trainers, hearing them thump against the wall as you struggle into the kitchen.

Tonight was the premiere of “Man Vs Woman” , the special episode of your and Bear's adventure. After the offer was made you met with the TV production company via Zoom to go through ideas.

You pretended you didn’t know Alexia was standing just outside the door to your study, listening and clearly deciding if she thought it was too dangerous or not. At least that's what you deduced from her interrupting with a cup of tea every time a particularly hairy idea was mentioned.  

When you brought this up with her you pretended you didn't see her blush creeping up from her neck. Because you’re her wife and it was the wifely thing to do.

The concept was a really cool one. You were excited from the start. The idea was that you and Bear would both be dropped in an inhospitable environment with a map and a knife and nothing else. Neither of you would be told what type of environment but you had assurances in your contract that it wouldn’t involve snow. You had 28 days to get to the muster point. Whoever got there first won.

Simple.

Convincing Alexia it was really cool. Less simple.

“Amor what if there are animals!”

“I know how to avoid dangerous animals. And there will be a medical team on standby,”

“What if you fall and cut yourself on your knife."

“What if you get tackled and break your leg?”

“That's different. What if you lose your map and can’t find your way out and you have to live out there forever”

“I will always find my way back to you.”

“What If-”

“Ale.”

You stopped her rambling with a kiss and when you pulled away you looked deeply in her eyes.

“Que pasa I miss you too much?” eyes wide and vulnerable.

There we go. Her real source of anxiety.

You had spent more time apart than most couples but since you scaled down your travels you had fallen into a sweet domesticity you could admit was a struggle to pull yourself from. 28 days plus the week before to get to the location is longer than you’d like. But it was an adventure of a lifetime. Maybe… maybe your last adventure? The thoughts had been creeping in more and more recently.

Of early mornings chasing more than sunrises, maybe rising due to a baby's babble instead?

You’d made sure that Alexia really knew how much you’d miss her the night before you flew out. On reflection maybe you should have rested your muscles a little more before such a physically demanding month but. Be serious. Look who your wife was. 

You are not God's strongest soldier.

So, off you had gone. Competing against your childhood hero for all of womanhood. And you couldn’t lie. You loved it.

Being blindfolded and dropped in an unknown location was exhilarating. Learning the land as you went, with only a map and a knife in hand it was one of the biggest challenges of your life.

The team had made good on their promise and the tropical rainforest you were in couldn’t be further from a snowy mountain range.

You’d refused to let anything slip to Alexia in the 3 months you’d been back. Lips tightly sealed no matter what she tried. You wanted her to be surprised and watch it in real time with you. In all the games you'd attended since you had to deal with an injured Mapi yapping your ear off whilst you tried to concentrate on the game, probing for hints about if you won, what you won, where you were, if you wrestled a snake, how big was the snake you’d wrestled.

“Maria stop with the snake!” you’d finally snapped during the tense quarter final of the Queen's cup.

Which had worked.

For all of two seconds.

“What did the snake taste like?”

You’d originally planned to go home to England with Alexia to watch the premier with your family. But then a schedule mess-up in the league had meant that Ale had to play in a rescheduled game the day after the premier. It just didn’t work for her to come to England.

She insisted you still go, but you refused. You wanted to watch her game. And you knew she’d need you when the show was on. Even if she didn’t know that yet.

You started to unpack your groceries mindlessly, you’d picked some great snacks for the evenings viewing, you suddenly were hit with how suspiciously peaceful your house was, though, you were sure you’d seen Alexia's car in the drive.

“Ale! Love!, ¡Estoy en casa! Come help me unpack!” You shouted into your empty kitchen, back turned to your living room, you had a few hours before the show was on air, “I got that ice-cream you like! I know it gives you a tummy ache sometimes but don’t worry, I'll rub your tummy how you like afte…”

“Amor!”

You turned around at the panic in her voice, “Wha–”

“SURPRISE!”

Ale stood in your living area, face reddening, surrounded by her closest Barca teammates as well as Mario, his ever pregnant wife and his kids, your mum and brother as well as Eli and Alba. Everyone comically in paper party hats and some lop-sided bunting was up above your couch,

“HOPE YOU BEAT THE BEAR SNAKE!” it read, and you immediately knew who was on the decoration committee.

You jumped in surprise, dropping the ice cream and immediately ran into your mum's open arms, “Mum! You’re here!” you squealed into her neck, hiding the tears that had appeared in her presence.

“I am, love. Alexia literally wouldn’t let us refuse the flight. She pretended she didn’t understand English when we tried to at least pay for it. And you know I have a 265 day streak on duolingo but my accent must need work because she didn’t understand my Spanish.”

You pulled yourself from her neck with a wet laugh and transferred yourself into your wifes open and familiar strong arms. “Aleeee” you whined. She knew you meant thank you. And I love you. And you mean the world to me. But you were too British to do that infront of people.

“You need to stop pretending you don’t speak English when you don’t like what you hear.” you muttered without malice after placing a kiss below her ear.

“I know amor. I love you too. And your family needed to be here for your big moment! You couldn’t miss this with them because of me. And then also. Mapi happened and now we’re having a viewing party! There's a cake!”

“And Ice Cream Ale! Don’t worry, I’ve saved it! Though we don’t want your barriga to hu-” Mapi stands the space you'd just vacated holding up the abandoned and slightly battered carton of ice cream. She's stopped from her gleeful teasing by Ingrid covering her entire face with one big palm.

“We wanted to be here to support you.” Ingrid interrupted her girlfriend, addressing you kindly.

“We all did!” you hear from Alba in the back, already tucking into the buffet set up on the coffee table, paper hat skew-whiff on her head. You have never felt so loved. It was perfect.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, when are you going to tell her you’re ready for them?”

You are brought out of your daydream by Ingrid sidling up to you and addressing you with her familiar soft lilt.

“Huh?”

She doesn’t reply vocally, just nods her head towards your wife, who is currently having a very intense game of 2v2 in your garden with 2 of Marios youngest and Mapi.

The kids little legs making them toddle around after the small ball adorably, Mapi and Ale giving soft touches they would easily catch up with.

You can’t help but laugh out loud as Ale takes Mapi by surprise and takes a shot against her hard, the ball catching her bare thigh in a manner which must have left a sting much to the small Spaniard's disdain.

Her and the two kids start to chase Alexia around the garden, dramatically tackling her as she suddenly becomes some sort of football monster, rolling around and blowing raspberries on their stomachs as Mapi cheers her toddler army on from the sidelines.

You feel another knock against your arm, dislodging your hand which is supporting your head as you lean over the breakfast bar facing the garden. Lovesick looks clearly on your face, going off Ingrid's coy smile.

“You know, barn. Kids. Munchkins…”

“Yeah, Yeah I get it Ingrid…” you steal another look outside at your more-often-than-not-stern wife getting grass stains on her comfy shorts for the entertainment of your best friends' kids, suddenly you feel like being really really honest. You turn to Ingrid with a shy smile of your own, “soon.”

Her face lights up, teeth on display unable to disguise her smile. “Yeah?” she asks, before turning to look towards the garden, “Me too.”

You smile to yourself and drop your head onto the dark haired girl's shoulder, you both taking a moment to watch your partners play with the kids. The moment is ruined by your mum mussing up your hair on her way past,

“Come on Love, we need to wrangle these last-minute spaniards, it starts in 10 minutes!”

She had a point to be fair. A very chaotic 8 minutes later you practically push Eli into her seat on the couch after she tries to get another plate full of food for Mario’s wife, “¡Está llena de Eli! ella esta embarazada no tiene hambre!” you cheekily remind her, your wife looking up at you from her place on the floor with tender eyes.

“And you…” you turn your attention towards her as you make your way to your seat, “get up here.” you demand, patting the empty space next to you.

“I’m bueno down here Mi Amor, me and Bruno can watch from down here.” she insists. the 4 year old of Marios nestled on her stomach, her arms wrapped around his sleeping form where he attached himself to her after being forced back inside.

You hesitate for a moment, not watching to make a scene or be too needy in front of all your closest family and friends, but you knew that Ale would need to be within touching distance of you in the next hour. 

You’re about to make your peace with it when Mario glaces your way. You and Mario have worked together for years. Years before you met Ale and the girls.

You’ve battled more than just bears together. Weeks spent isolated in the mountains. And a bond like that means that you can communicate with just a look.

With just that glance he’s up and pulling his toddler into his own burley arms. Bruno remaining in his deep sleep through the change.

“I’ve got el monstruo Ale. Go sit with your wife."

She doesn’t need any more direction, the small interaction is subtle and missed by everyone, except your brother who sends you an exaggerated puppy dog look.

“Fuck off” you throw at him, finger in the air, quickly grabbed by Alexia, “Hey, I thought you wanted me to sit here!” she teases, sending your brother a wink.

“Stop ganging up on me…!” you’re about to protest further before you’re shushed by Mapi, of all people, sitting on the floor between Ingrid's legs who sits on the couch above her. “It's about to start!”

She has a point, a familiar British accent fills the living room, Spanish subtitles appearing on the bottom of the screen for the Spanish contingent. Bear’s voice is as dramatic as ever, long sweeping scenes fill the screen of intense jungle, a crocodile and an action shot of a snake thrown in for good measure.

“Serpiente!” Mapi shouts, pointing at the screen, before Ingrid hushes her and pulls her back against her legs. 

           “We all know by now that humans are masters of the jungle. But the unanswered question remains. Is it the King, or Queen of the Jungle? Find out tonight in Man V Woman.”

The title fills the screen with a dramatic crescendo of music. Your friends and family whooping as though it's the champions league final. Alexia barely contains her excitement next to you. You had been steadfast in your refusal to tell anyone the outcome.

The next shot is a recognisable one, the sound of trees being hacked with a machete accompanies a close up of a muddy puddle set deep in the jungle, until the water is disturbed by a ever-familiar battered boot stomping in the puddle, blaugrana laces pulled tight, as proudly as ever.

This prompts another wild round of jeering from the crowd around you as the camera pans out and reveals your full profile as Alexia places a loving kiss onto your shoulder, “That's my wife!” she shouts, proudly, making you laugh. 

Bear's voice over continues as you pull Alexia's hand into yours, half pulling her on top of you, she gives you a peculiar look, this being more PDA than you would usually allow in front of your English family, but she goes with it, too full of pride to be worried otherwise.

As the voiceover continues, highlights of your career flash across the screen to introduce you to the audience.

Mountains in Peru, Arctic Explorations, Treks across Siberia, all flash across the screen, mixed in with childhood pictures your mum must have supplied painting a picture of your career so far and your expertise in your career.

The music turns more dramatic as you shift uncomfortably, being the only one to realise in the room what's about to happen.

A picture of you smiling with Arjan at the peak of Everest, ice picks raised proudly in the air. You feel Alexia stiffen on your lap, ever so subtly. Stock footage of snow hurling down a mountain as Bear describes the avalanche you got trapped in.

He gives out stats and figures to heighten the drama… “your chance of survival drops 3% every minute you are trapped after the first 15 minutes… being trapped for 2 days… our guest star did the unthinkable…”

The room is bathed in a white light as the screen changes. Camera shaky and audio changing to the shouts and heavy breaths of whoever the body worn camera is strapped too. “Yahām̐, Yahām̐, she is here!”

The camera catches Arjan digging desperately, it's clear now the camera is strapped to a rescuer on the slopes of Everest, the TV production company having access to the footage through a sister company who were filming a documentary about altitude rescue at the time.

It shakes as the man helps dig, grunts of exertion as the spade digs desperately. A flash of colour and your snow suit is revealed, face pressed up against the rock you had found shelter near.

Arjan clears snow from your face desperately and puts his head close to yours, “She’s breathing!” he pulls you up and your hand, satellite phone frozen in place, falls from the side of your ghostly white face as the camera fades out.

The whole segment couldn’t have lasted more than 32 seconds. But it had felt like time had slowed. You could feel from her placement on you that Alexia hadn’t taken a breath. Her eyes remained wide as she stared at the screen.

There was a heaviness in the room around you. 

The voiceover continued, explaining the challenge to the audience but the silence continued. Eli glances at her daughter worriedly, every few seconds.

Just as you thought the tension couldn’t get any more intense… “That's what Alexia looks like when she visits England for Christmas and mum won’t let us put the heating on.” your brother jokes, awkwardly, a crooked smile on his boyish face. 

The room is silent, your mum hiding a smile behind a hand only you notice. He goes to speak again, probably to apologise when-

Alexias' laugh shocks even you, bubbling up from deep within her chest. She closes her eyes, a stray tear escaping at the pressure. Laugh still rumbling deep in her chest, slowly the room joins in, as though they’ve been given permission, and soon your in a choir of laughing spectators, your brother blushing deep red at the attention.

“Thank you” you mouth to him across the room, as you wrap your hands around your wife, whos body still shakes with the odd giggle.

He tips an imaginary hat at you in return.

Because he is an idiot.

The challenge begins, unhelpfully, with you throwing yourself out of a helicopter into the rainforest, “Oh Dios Mio” she mumbles, heard subtly under Mapis, “Cool!”.

You press your lips against her shoulder again and mutter into her skin; “I am here, I am warm, I am Safe.” Like a mantra, you feel her nod and grip your hand tighter.

The thing about being in the environment completely opposite to an avalanche inducing mountain range, was that it was hot. Hot and wet. The camera follows both you and Bear as you struggle through the elements seperatly, deciding when to camp down and preserve energy and when to try to gain more miles.

Bear goes hard, and Mapi looks up at you aghast as you decide to build a shelter and bunker down for seven days straight. The heat zapping any energy you had.

“What are you doing! It's a race!” she exclaims, to which you laugh and zip your mouth closed with your fingers, cocking an eyebrow at her as she eagerly looks back towards the TV like a small child.

You spend two days collecting water and, seemingly, according to Mapi, wasting time cutting palm leaves and collecting bark to make twine. Meanwhile Bear is hacking down trees, making spears out of sticks and rock and throwing himself at seemingly anything that would give him a bit of protein on the move.

You’ve ridden yourself of most of your clothing due to the heat. Smothering yourself in mud from the riverbank you were camped next to, you explain to the camera its sun-cream qualities and how it’s safer than clothing as it also protects you from dehydration. 

All the while you weave and weave and weave your leaves together, quietly, assuredly.

You explain to the camera; “I am a master weaver. My wife likes it when I plait her hair. Alot. She’s cute. Sorry Ale.” you wink at the camera as your wife groans on your lap and  her teammates start to tease her, “Amor! Why!”

“Now. Let's see how this works!”  you grin and pull up a large basket to the camera.

The screen shows you scantily dressed, boots safely on a rock in the background, in the river, moving twigs into position to make a run for the fish to swim directly into your basket.

You explain the contraception, set some bait and say your goodnights to the camera, crossing your fingers for a full basket in the morning.

Cheerful music begins as the camera fades back into your campfire, fish on a stick roasting and cooking heavenly, your muddied but smiling face coming into view.

“Bear can eat his roaches and drink his wee. I’ll be here with my fish buffet!” You joke, under your shelter, camera panning to tens of fish in your basket waiting to be smoked.

The next scene shows Bear explaining the protein benefits and the unusual flavours of a witchetty grub as he struggles against the rainstorm. 

The music begins to ramp up. Graphics on the screen showing both of your progress. Bear has made much more progress than you. But struggling physically. He’s developed a terrible case of trench foot but was still making steady progress with his machete.

You chose to travel up the river. Walking along its bed you are able to make more direct progress, but it’s more energy draining wading through water. You have, however, had a relatively strong diet over the last 3 weeks.

You’re sitting on the river bed, tending to your basket of smoked fish you’re carrying with you for energy when you suddenly remain completely stock still. Dramatic music begins. Your head raises subtly and then out of nowhere.

“Serpentine!”

A snake strikes at you from the shallows, clearly after your basket, or you, or whatever it can get its fangs in. You react quickly, crouching down to your knees, keeping a low centre of gravity to keep your balance as your right hand reaches into the shallows.

You and the snake strike at the same time, and you throw yourself to the side as you bash a jagged rock against its head.

The next scene shows you taking a mouthful of grilled snake; “Tastes like chicken!” you joke at the camera. Before popping a piece of charred snake skin into your mouth.

You feel Alexia shudder in your arms.

"I'm never kissing you again" she lies.

Mapi slowly turns around, mouth agape, gobsmacked look on her face. “Snake!” she whispers, in disbelief. “You beat a snake!” You can’t help but laugh and lean over to turn her head back to the TV.

“Told you you’d find everything out tonta.”

The map on screen shows the last day of the challenge, Bear's voice over explaining distances to the muster points, as well as geographical challenges. The screen swaps quickly between the two of you, running, climbing and swimming to where you both believed the finish line to be.

You were making good progress, as was Bear.

A close up of a Brazilian flag on the edge of a waterfall.

A close up of you throwing yourself into the river.

Bear gripping a cliff edge and heaving himself up. The camera shows the bottom of the flag pole as he pulls himself up. The camera pans up. And the flagpole is bare.

The screen changes to you.

Standing, still relatively scantily clad in your battered boots, your hiking shorts cut down to short-shorts and thin vest muddied and holey, fish blood staining your arms,holding the flag proudly up in one arm.

The room around you erupts. “She did it!” “¡Jefe de la Jungla!!!!” “I always knew!”, “She killed a snake!”. You find yourself at the bottom of a pile of bodies as Alexia's teammates celebrate in the way they know how. Which is apparently to throw themselves at you in a pile up.

“That's my wife!” Alexia chants proudly from within the pile, laughing gleefully, all earlier angst forgotten.

The screen goes blank, and the image shows you and Bear embracing, laughing as the voiceover continues; “... at least this time. It's a Queen of the jungle… or should I say. La Reina de la Jungla.” Bear quips, as Alexia groans, forever hating her nickname, and the screen cuts to black.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s hours later, many more plates of food, celebration toasts and questions from Mapi about the snake later. That you're finally in the quiet of your bedroom in your wife's arms.

Your mum and brother are set up in the spare rooms and you have all got plans to meet up with the Alexias family at the game tomorrow before going out for a meal.

Your head is settled on her chest as she plays on her phone above you, struggling to calm down from the evening's events, and as usual, struggling to sleep before a game.  You play with her wedding ring on her spare hand. Feeling the cool metal beneath against her warm skin.

You feel her swipe furiously through her phone, getting more agitated as time passes, grumbles that are not-quite words emitting from her chest.

“Hey. Love.” you sit up and pull her phone away. “What's the matter?”

“Nothing.” she replies, bottom lip out in a pout, pulling her phone back into her hand.

“It’s not nothing. Tell me.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Alexia.” you sigh, “We aren't doing this.. What's got you so…” you look down onto her phone and see. Yourself? It's her tiktok open and you see an edit of the show being played over… “Hot Stuff? Ale. What's this?” you glance at the comments section and see a selection from seemingly anon accounts;  

‘I have never understood Alexia more’, ‘I wonder who calls who capi.’ ,‘Capi, your wife's thighs are bigger than yours’.

“Nothing!” she grabs her phone back from your grip… you arch an eyebrow at her which crumbles her resolve in 3…2…

“Fine! It's all over my TikTok.  The comments about you. The fans have made these edits. Of you! All, wet and… muscley and… nearly undressed.”

“And you…don’t… like me wet, and muscled and… naked? Cause, love, I have evidenced otherwis…”

“Shut up! Of course I do but you're mine!”

Oh. Realisation dawns on you and you can’t help but smile.

“Don’t laugh!” she grumbles. “You’re jealous….” you tease in a sing-song voice. “I am not jealous!” she insists, “It's just… tu eres mio! And these people are all looking at you”.

“I am,” you agree, with a smile. “But, love. Try being married to Alexia Putellas. Maybe you’ll keep your shirt on at games now.” you tease, making her smile and roll her eyes.

Eyes softening as you pull her phone from her grip and plug it in for her. Settling back into her chest, nuzzling against the warm skin you find there.

“I am so proud of you.” she whispers into the now dark room, placing a kiss on your head. The moment became more serious and tender.

“I love you” you reply, softly, the moment feels weighted, and you’re not sure what makes you do it. Maybe it's the adrenaline of the evening, having completed your life's ambition, or maybe it's the wine you drank.

Though, really, you know it's because of the images of your lanky wife curling herself onto the rug in the living room because Bruno had decided she was the world's best pillow again. But you can’t stop yourself.

“Ale. I want to have kids with you.”

Her hand stops its movement in your hair and she rushes over to turn the bedside lamp back on.

“Que?” she breathes out. Hands finding their place softly on your cheeks, a look of urgency in her eyes.

“I want us to have kids. Me and you. I want that with you. Is that something you’re ready for?” you whisper, eyes looking deeply into hers.

“En serio?” she asks, as though she's afraid of the answer.

You nod in response. Moving your hand to wipe away the tears that have appeared on her cheeks.

“Sí, Mi Amor. Quiero eso contigo. Mucho.”

You're both smiling too much to kiss, but you make a good go of it anyway. And as you bury yourself into your wife's arms. Hands roaming and adrenaline of a decision made rushing through your body you can't help but think.

This is the beginning of the biggest adventure of your life. 

[purinfelix]

Hi! Never done this before but lets try: What about Gavi, who has spent most of his childhood sharing a room in la masia and now struggles to fall asleep without someone there vs a gf who was an only child and doesn't know how to sleep with someone in the room?

it's so sweet, knowing that you love me ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 - pablo gavi

pairing: gavi x reader w/c: 516

a/n: anon this was such a cute idea omf ... i hope i did it justice !! <333

"What?"

"I should get going soon," you repeated slowly, growing more confused by the similarly confused look on your boyfriend's face.

"Why would you go? It's so late, why don't you just stay the night?" he questioned, as if it was common sense despite you having never stayed over at his place before.

"Don't you only have one bedroom?"

"And?"

"So where would I sleep?"

"My bed?"

The two of you paused and the growing silence between you spoke volumes about your confusion, each of you trying your best to understand where the other one was coming from. Looking into Gavi's eyes, covered slightly by his furrowed eyebrows, part of his request started making sense to you. You remembered that he had grown up in the dorms of La Masia and so the style of sleeping you were used to, being solitary, must've seemed ridiculous - whereas you could say the same for his.

Still, you found yourself agreeing to his request for you to stay the night - partially because he raised a good point about how late it was and you couldn't find the energy to trek back home, but mostly because you were touched by how easily the idea of opening up his home to you came to him. You watched as he retrieved a spare pillow for you, squishing it next to his on the bed which, the more you looked at it, the less confident you became with his idea.

Laying down next to him, you tried your best to straighten your body out so as to avoid touching him at all, a task your limited space made more difficult. Despite having been together for months now, there was still a shyness and an intimacy to the situation that stopped you from being as touchy as you normally would - holding hands in the street was one thing, but here, in his bed, was a completely different situation.

That was, of course, until you felt your boyfriend's warm hands wrap around your waist and pull you towards him. Letting out a soft gasp at his actions, you felt your cheeks burn up.

"Mmf, sorry," he mumbled against the nape of your neck where he had buried his face, "I've just been wanting to sleep with you like this for so long."

"But you see me all the time, what difference does this make?"

"I've always found it easier to fall asleep with someone near, and I don't really want to be near anyone more than you."

The matter-of-fact tone your boyfriend spoke with, despite already being half-asleep, finally made it all click for you. You felt yourself break into a shy smile, feeling slightly stupid for how stiff you had been earlier. Soon, the rhythm of your boyfriend's soft breaths slowed - signalling that he had fallen asleep surprisingly early. You still smiled to yourself, his arms wrapped around you seemingly tighter than when he was awake. Personally, sleeping in the same bed as someone else had never been your ideal situation - but this was a compromise you were more than happy to have made.

[pink-amethyst-tarot]

🤍 Why You Should Be Proud Of Yourself 🤍

credit to @crystallilytarot for the idea 💕

P I L E 1 P I L E 2 P I L E 3

Close your eyes, take a deep breath and choose the pile that you think is the one for you ♥

P I L E 1 - You have come so far! Four of Swords, The High Priestess, Two of Pentacles, Eight of Pentacles, Ten of Pentacles, The Fool, The Magician

The first thing I heard before even pulling cards is The Party's Just Begun by the Cheetah Girls and that feels like a sign that you should be having fun, dancing and living your life to the fullest! Your life can be so beautiful if you let it.

You know much more than you think that you do. I feel like you are back and forth between losing faith in yourself and feeling like you are finally breaking through. (I know what that's like, I've been there too much.) You've got to cut yourself some slack. Yeah, it's not perfect now but, you have made so much progress and that is important. You are so much closer to the finish line than you realize. Don't give up now. You've worked too hard and have come too far to give up now.

party cuz you know the future's all yours // dance 'til your feet don't touch the floor // celebrate the day you've waited for // party like you're ready for so much more // do it like you know it's never been done // go a little crazy // have too much fun //today's the day, c'mon everyone // the party's just begun //

Channeled song - The Party's Just Begun by The Cheetah Girls

P I L E 2 - Going With The Flow Two of Pentacles, Nine of Pentacles, Two of Wands (Reversed), Six of Pentacles, Justice, Queen of Pentacles, Eight of Swords

Despite your fear of change, you have overcome, finding your balance in your life and either now or soon, you will be enjoying the fruits of your labor. That could be financial abundance for this pile - it seems pretty likely, considering all the pentacles. You have been a very giving person and now it's time that people start giving to you in whatever way that may fit you.

You should also be proud of yourself for getting yourself to a point where you don't feel sorry for yourself. You've done the work to really see the truth of the situation - where you have been both right and wrong - and you've seen that you aren't as stuck as you once thought.

P I L E 3 - You've opened your heart again! King of Cups, Ten of Swords, Seven of Swords, Seven of Pentacles, Ace of Swords, Eight of Pentacles (Reversed), The Moon, Ten of Cups

You've been through some hard times. I feel like your heart was really bruised and batter but, despite the things you have been through, you have taken your lemons and turned them into make lemonade! I can see some of you turning to writing, journaling, or posting on social media. You have been working on yourselves and you are so happy with the progress you've made. You should be proud of yourself; I know I am! This work you have done on yourself is leading you to a new beginning in your life, a change of pace that you have be dying to have!

Your dreams are coming true and your intuition is spot on! You are about to get everything you wanted and then some so you can relax and know that your life is about to change for the better.

If you are looking for a personal reading, you can look on my shop on Etsy at PinkAmethystTarot, DM me or send me an e-mail at pinkamethysttarot@gmail.com

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Thank you all so much for interacting with me and my readings, it really does mean the world to me!

Page Divider by @cafekitsune

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. THESE READINGS ARE FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. no guarantees are implied. These readings are not a substitute or replacement for any professional help or services. My readings are not a substitute for any form of professional legal, medical/psychiatric, relationship, religious/spiritual or financial/ business advice nor consultations. You should always see a professional legal/trained adviser for help in any matter. I am not responsible for any decisions/ actions you take.

[g1rld1ary]

I feel like you’d eat up this idea so much but Camp Counselor James Potter!!

Where its semi frenemies to lovers after James unexpectedly becomes head camp counselor alongside reader, thus forcing them closer as they have to work together. I’d imagine James as a sports/swim instructor who the campers adore and reader as an arts and crafts teacher who James has liked for years since they met at camp (even before they became counselors.)

summer friends - camp counselor!james potter x camp counselor!reader

wc: 2816

cw: swearing, implied fem!r but i don't think any pronouns, alcohol, throwing up (once)

part TWO

first of all thank u so much for the compliment anon i hope i am doing it justice!! i actually love this idea and so there's gonna be more parts because i have so many fun lil camp ideas already HOWEVER we don't rlly have summer camps where I'm from so if u wanna see anything specific (activity/trope etc) please request!!! love u xoxo

It was stinking hot already. The clock in your car was broken so you weren't sure exactly what time it was, but you were sure it was too early to have sweat dripping from your brow. Nine, maybe. Still, nothing could bring down your present mood, not the sweat, not the early morning on a weekend, not even that your Fleetwood Mac CD kept skipping during The Chain. No, you were in the best mood you'd been in in a while and nothing could ruin it.

You were headed back to camp. Your camp. It was your first year as head counselor at the camp you'd grown up in and you were filled to the brim with excitement and drive to make this summer as magical as the ones you had growing up. Pulling into the dirt parking space you sighed contently, glad to be back where you belonged.

It was weird to see the camp almost empty. You'd been a general counselor before so you'd seen the camp without kids, but being one of the first there in the morning was peaceful. You waved cheerfully at one of the cooks who'd been working since you were a kid, laughing as he tried to return the gesture over the boxes he was hustling into the kitchen.

You broke into a jog to catch up with the camp director who you needed to meet with, smiling widely when he greeted you. You made small talk as he led you around the camp, giving directions to some of the staff setting up in between his extended spiel explaining your duties. You really were trying to listen but you couldn't help your eyes darting to each movement in the corner of your vision. The other head counselor should have been here already, and it wasn't like him to be late. Michael was one of the many kids you'd grown up with through summers, and he was just as devoted to camp as you were, so it wasn't surprising he also made head counselor, but it was surprising that he was now late.

"Where's Michael?" You asked when the director took a breath. He turned to look at you, one eyebrow raised slightly.

"Didn't we tell you? Michael had a health scare, he can't work this summer." You could feel your mouth hanging open. The two of you had been talking about this for years, dreaming of becoming the head counselors.

"So who's—"

"Nothing like the fresh air, is there?" Your shoulders tensed just by the timbre of it, you could recognise that voice anywhere.

"Potter," You turned to greet him, ponytail swinging behind you.

"No need for last names, love, I saw your braces phase," James retorts and you huff, rolling your eyes dramatically.

"Yeah, yeah, and I've got pictures of your acne. So you're really my partner this summer?" James didn't bother replying, his cocky grin saying it all. You felt the director's eyes on both of you and refrained from another snip in fear of it undermining your leadership, but still shot James a dead-eyed smile to let him know you weren't done.

You were dismissed to settle in until the other counselors arrived for briefing after a few other business matters (for which both you and James stayed civil and responsible) and all but ran to your car, eager to get the moving in part over with as quick as possible.

After so many years of making camp your home away from home, you'd pretty much nailed the routine of packing and unpacking, and your part of the four-girl cabin was taking shape very nicely if you did say so yourself. You even had time to stick up the photos you'd printed out, which usually took at least a week to happen. You were just wiping the sweat off your face with the hem of your t-shirt when someone cleared their throat. You didn't need to guess who it was.

James was leaning against the doorframe, looking unfairly unperturbed by the heat.

"Sorry your dream boy couldn't be here," He said and you couldn't quite tell if he was joking.

"Michael and I—"

"Relax, I was talking about your real boyfriend, remember?" You paused at his statement, studying your painted fingers intently.

"We broke up," You said quietly, not daring to look at James in fear of him teasing you about it. You consequently missed the flash of curiosity (and maybe relief) that passed across his features.

"Sorry," He said awkwardly, still under the doorframe.

"It's fine. He's a dickhead."

"I could have told you that last summer!" He laughed, then slapped a hand over his mouth as he realised it might have been too far. You managed a small laugh yourself, if only to make him feel better about his misstep.

"Yeah, yeah. Last summer you also thought swallowing gum would fuse your insides together."

"And I stand by that! You should just learn to listen to me," He crowed, eyes sparkling with mischief. You rolled your eyes again, pushing yourself off the bed to reapply your deodorant.

"If I ever start listening to you, take it as a sign I'm losing my marbles," You said, ducking under the arm James had stretched across the doorframe, "Now come on, everyone'll be arriving." You don't stop to see if he's following, marching out of your cabin and toward the dining hall where the counselors would convene. James watched you go for a moment with a soft grin before jogging to catch up and bother you some more.

The dining hall was already buzzing with energy and noise and the campers hadn’t even arrived yet. You smiled as you watched the counselors meet and mingle, some of them being kids you’d grown up with almost your whole life.

“Everything the light touches is our kingdom,” James’ whisper appeared from behind you.

“You are so lame.” You don’t bother looking at him, convinced you knew exactly what face he’d be pulling. “Now make yourself useful and greet everyone.” You might have been a little rude, but it was clear to you that this job wasn’t nearly as important to James as it was to you. Head counselor was something you’d been working towards since you’d started at camp, and you would like to keep the gig through college if James didn’t ruin it for you.

A booming noise silenced the room, and you were surprised to know it came from James. He started off the address for you outlining all the boring housekeeping notices you could recite in your sleep. They were almost exactly the same every year, except for James’ insistence on being the funniest in the room and making jokes after every other statement.

“As you know if you find any contraband in the camper’s belongings report it to the camp director, especially if it’s an illicit substance, as there may be serious discipline. However, if it’s alcohol, slip into into my cabin ‘coz god knows I’ll need a drink after dealing with the kids and this one.” He gestured over to you, receiving a ripple of laughter throughout the room. You grit your teeth, trying not to react and be the bad cop of camp.

“Just so we’re all clear,” You faked a laugh, “None of the campers or counselors will be ingesting or posessing alcohol while at camp. Right guys?” You locked eyes with the camp director, trying to bring him down from the conniption he was on the verge of. It worked, mostly, and you took over from James, shooting him a warning glare as you rushed to finish listing off the timetable for the coming evening and next day as campers arrived.

In his defence though, James wasn’t exactly wrong. Although the camp director could never ever find out for the sake of all your jobs, there was definitely a stash of alcohol that all the counselors contributed to and had access to, though strictly when there was no risk of campers or higher ups finding out. Like tonight. Every year before the campers arrived the counselors held a campfire right out in the forest; far enough away that there was almost no risk of the adult-adults finding them, but close enough that drunk walks back to the cabin weren’t quite impossible.

That brought you to the campfire. You’d been stuck in meetings and doing last minute admin all night and you really needed the break. You could only look at schedules and spreadsheets for so long anyway, add James to the mix and you were going absolutely crazy.

You’d snagged a spot next to Lily, hugging her tight as you reunited.

“I can’t believe you’re stuck with Potter,” She said, taking a sip from some ungodly drink one of the counselors had mixed. You laughed as you pulled away and greeted Remus quickly, taking the can of cider he offered.

“I’m just thanking my lucky stars it wasn’t him three years ago.” You shook your head resolutely, “At least now I’m sure he’s human. I just hate that he’s gonna make me bad cop all summer.” Remus cocked his head in confusion and Lily asked for clarification so you continued.

“You know, James is always the funny one, James is always the chill one. I’m the one who’s gonna have to spoil the fun and enforce the rules.”

“That’s not true though, you might be the one sticking to the rules but you’ve been here just as long. Everyone knows and loves you, and you’ll have just as much fun even if you aren’t quite as go-with-the-flow,” Lily said, a comforting hand resting on your arm.

“Prongs might surprise you,” Remus said, clearly taking a different approach, “I think when it matters he’ll step up to the plate.” You looked at him for a moment, considering his philosophy. You chanced a glance over at James to see him halfway through a game of beer pong — losing badly in fact, and sighed. If he, the head sport and swim counselor, was losing at a game consisting of throwing then he must’ve already been smashed.

He caught your eye at just the wrong (or right) moment and waved you over with such excitement that you excused yourself from the conversation to see what he wanted.

“Sirius needs a teammate,” He said simply, gesturing for you to go over and play. You shook you head furiously.

“So you’re asking the arts and crafts leader? I have zero coordination.”

“Yeah, and? You’re competitive and that’s all that matters. Consider it our head counselor bonding time.” You looked at James for a moment, weighing out the pros and cons in your head. You figured it couldn’t be that bad even if you embarrassed yourself, and you really didn’t want the other counselors to think you had a stick up your arse after getting the position. So, you reciprocated the high five Sirius had offered and got in position.

The game went shit, as could have been assumed. You really didn’t have an ounce of coordination, your throws missing most of the cups. Sirius was better, making your team at least not totally hopeless, but the two of you were no match for the machines that were James and Marlene — though both significantly worsened by their inebriated states. You were providing the trash talk though, which seemed to keep everyone entertained

“Ok new game!” James clapped after you’d downed the last drink, “Sirius, switch with me.”

“What! But I like my partner!” You high-fived Sirius again at his declaration, now sufficiently buzzed from the shitty beer you’d been using.

“Yeah, we’re doing just fine, Potter. Worry about yourself.” It came out a bit louder and more aggressive than you intended, but James didn’t seem to mind — none of you were sober enough to be picking up on the intricacies of human communication. James mimed a stab to his heart dramatically.

“You kill me,” He groaned, leaning on the folding table in despair. You laughed loudly, holding up your hand in the shape of an L to rub it in. After rubbing it in for a moment you conceded, stomping your way to his side of the table, patting Marlene on the shoulder as you swapped places.

“Alright, Potter, let’s get this round over with so I can kick your arse again.” James’ grin was practically blinding as he brightened up, getting ready to play another match. You might’ve been getting a little too competitive, but it was camp and you were drunk, so everyone around the table was matching your energy tenfold.

“Are you actually capable of getting a ball in a cup? You’re genuinely so terrible at this,” James laughed as he said it but you took it personally, shoving him aside.

“Piss off, dickhead. Just because you’re a big shot athlete or whatever.” You must have finally struck a nerve in James as he was quiet for the rest of the game, still much more skilled than you but his energy significantly dampened. Even when you won, he only offered you a weak smile and a pathetic high five. You felt bad for a moment and opened your mouth to apologise, but your inebriated brain was distracted by music playing, running over to Lily to ask her to dance.

You were at the stage of being drunk where everything was perfect. The day’s heat had mellowed out into a dreamy summer night, a soft breeze rustling the leaves above you all as you danced and drank, reuniting after a long year apart.

You might’ve overdone it slightly though, which found you a little ways away from the rest of the party, emptying your stomach into a bush where hopefully none of the campers would stumble across it. Looking past your unfortunate accident you caught a glimpse of a dark shape on the bank of the river. Narrowing your eyes you tried to make out who it was, but settled on getting closer instead. You hesitated when you made it out to be James.

“Hey, Potter. You alright?” You called awkwardly, a little unwilling to get too close.

“Hm?” He looked back at you, voice uncharacteristically quiet. “Yeah, fine.” You sighed. He was clearly upset about something and you couldn’t just end the conversation there, no matter how much you didn’t want to have a DnM with James Potter on night one of camp.

Reluctantly you got closer, taking a seat next to him. You watched the lake for a few minutes, black except for the silver from the moon. It was peaceful when there weren’t so many people around, it was one of your favourite things about camp, just being outside and disconnected from the rest of your life.

James broke the silence first.

“Do you… Are you mad that I’m co-head counselor?” You chanced a glance at him, surprised at the vulnerability in his voice. James wasn’t usually one to get sappy or personal like that, especially not with you.

“No?” You replied, “It wasn’t what I imagined, obviously, but it’s not like I hate you. You’re just mildly infuriating like 80% of the time.” James snorted, and you got the feeling he’d intended to wallow a bit longer. But James was James and he couldn’t stay moody for too long, it wasn’t in his nature.

“I can work with that.” He smiled his blinding grin, and you could have sworn you could see it reflecting off the water.

“We have to be a team though,” You affirmed; now was as good a time as any for you to address it. “I know that your whole bright and lively class clown thing is effortless for you, but I don’t wanna be the bad cop all the time, okay?” James was deep in thought for a second, then a cheeky grin crept onto his features.

“You think I’m bright and lively?”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes, but you weren’t sure you weren’t returning his smile. “Come on, let’s get to bed. Neither of us can afford to be hungover when the kids get here.”

You and James wandered back towards the cabins, both hazy and giggly from the lasting drunkenness and the (at least temporary) smoothing over of your tenuous relationship.

PART TWO

[cr4zy-cycl0n3]

Yo! I'm doing a Heroes of Olympus rewrite!

I'm not a huge fan of how some scenes go in canon and how the characters esp the gods are handled in Hoo, and after reading one too many rewrite/AU fics, I've decided fuck it, imma make my own.

I'm changing quite a few things, like:

- making Piper's memories not be tampered with and as a result be way closer to Leo (credit to Heroes of Juno by @queenjunothegreat for this idea!)

- MOTHERLY HERA/JUNO WHO PSEUDO-ADOPTS JASON FTW also parental Lupa but that'll be more apparent in a Jason prequel/sequel(depends on how I wanna format it) I’ll write after TLH is done

- slowburn valgrace instead of comphet jiper

- Leo and Piper QPR(+Jason when Piper stops being his #1 opp). Jasipereo ftw babyyy

- the whole series is just gonna have a good deal of focus on the Lost Trio. I'm not gonna shaft anyone ofc but my favorite punching bags characters are just gonna get extra love :3

- Jason's gonna be considerably more feral cuz CMON MAN WAS RAISED BY WOLVES(this is more prominent in the later books cuz in TLH he was alr feral, going at 2 giants with his BARE ASS HANDS)

- Jason has more bite cuz DAMMIT HE DESERVES TO BE ANGRY/BITTER AND CLAP BACK. HIS LIFE IS SHIT, LET MY BRO BE MAD

- more exploration into Jason's character cuz man was shafted so hard :(

- exploration of characters' powers in general, def buffing the Big Three kids to be as strong as Percy cuz holy cow he's OP. I love Percy and his OP-ness, but the other Big Three kids should be just as OP

- Zeus is the God of Justice, which we don't see much of in PJO's characterization of him, but Jupiter is Roman and hence is much more strict in the RRverse, so consequently I think his domain of law and order is more central to Jupiter than his greek counterpart, so I'd like to explore Jason having powers related to that and being an absolute powerhouse when it comes to debates and politics despite hating them

- characterizing the Gods differently from canon as I'm a Hellenist and writing them as they are in canon makes me like. Kinda uncomfortable. I will be using mythic literalism as that is what PJO/HoO's based on and I'm not rewriting the very foundations of the series, so they will still have committed the things they did in mythology, though I'm keeping them largely unaltered from the Og greek mythos and unsanitized as this isn't intended for a young audience like PJO is. Their behavior won't be exactly like their depictions in myths nor how they actually are irl, it's a mix of both(Ex: Zeus has still done heinous shit so he won't be as great as he is irl, but he isn't supremely petty and bitchy like he is in PJO.). This uhh. Will probably mean that PJO events would go differently which would influence HOO but if I think about that too much I'm gonna wanna do a PJO rewrite too and akbhdhd so just imagine that everything that goes on in PJO goes as canon (for now at least) for some reason or another.

- Octavian and Jason are were best friends cuz I said so. This change is inspired by To Storm and Fire(a Heroes of Olympus rewrite) which I am in LOVE with. The antagonistic side characters(like Drew and Octavian) got very little development or character exploration so l'm definitely giving them that in my rewrite!

- The Seven feel and are much closer together

- delving more into the sevens' trauma pre-camp, might also do a one/two shot for each of them. Jason’s a given cuz I’m writing a whole ass fic or even series dedicated to his past, Leo and Piper definitely, probably also Hazel and Annabeth, not sure on Percy and Frank cuz for Frank I’m def going into the trauma that comes with growing up in an Asian household but don’t have too many ideas on how to execute that, and for Percy I don’t have all that many ideas in general outside of the little we know in PJO(I used to think we knew a lot but honestly, we really don’t? Like we know Poseidon left, Sally had to work a lot, Gabe sucks, and he got kicked out of 6 six schools in 6 years and the reasons, but we don’t have any concrete details. There might be more in HoH, I haven’t read it yet so lmk if there is). Open to any ideas for this!

- camp is. Tense. It's been only a few months since the war, grief is still fresh, and Jason being tall, blonde, and blue-eyed with a scar ain't helping 💀 some people think Silena was a hero, others think she was a villain, some people sympathized with Luke, others despised him, there's a lotta differing views.

I have loads more ideas that I won't get into here cuz the post'll get way too long, but l'd love to hear what you guys think! What scenes/characterizations should I change? What topics would you like to see handled differently? What should I add? I'm open to any and all suggestions!

Currently outlining TLH, will start posting it on my ao3 once I have the first chapter and 4-5 buffer ones written so I'll prolly start posting it in a month or two? Idk, depends on my workload irl and if I get hit by writer’s block. Maybe less, maybe more, who knows. I'll be writing a bunch of shorter stories for specific moments, time between books, and namely a prequel/tih sequel focusing on Jason's past and who he was before Hera wiped his memory. Open to any suggestions for additional works too. Feel free to drop any questions and suggestions bout the rewrite here or in my ask box!

[sapphicmsmarvel]

the night courts justice

pairing: platonic!rhysand x reader

summary: rhysand learns your past traumas are more alike than he assumed.

Tw: MASSIVE trigger warning for r*pe being mentioned. Graphic, graphic violence. Feminine rage, unhinged female rage. Unhinged. 

Would like to preface: this is a work of fiction, uh, yeah. 

I know people write more detailed shit than I did however, I just wanted to give the violence disclaimer bc this is the most violent thing i've ever written (i usually just write fluff!)

Happy reading to my unhinged vengeful girlypops <3 

After you turned, you got bad. You had always struggled with depression, however the fae transformation increased that feeling. 

Rhysand noticed first because you were showing the signs that he did after under the mountain.

“You’re taking care of them, so they’ll be okay when you leave.”  He had approached you on the balcony.

You weren’t an idiot. “Sometimes, I do wonder what would happen if I just…” You waved your hands around. “Ceased.” 

“You wouldn’t see Feyre again.” His voice cracked. “She was what was keeping me from…ending it after I got back.” 

“I don’t know the extent of what happened to you.” You began, “but I can fill in the blanks.” 

“How so?” “From one rape victim to another, I can see the signs.” You simply stated.

It was silent and then, “Feyre found me that night.”  Your voice was a whisper in the wind.

He paused, he could feel the sorrow radiating off of you. You swallowed, “she found me abandoned in the woods, that’s where I was taken. At the time, we had no idea who it was, or where he was from. It was close to the wall. Hence how she found me. I had been there since the previous night. Missing for almost a whole day plus a night. She was hunting at night so people wouldn't get greedy when they saw her with prey. She brought me back to the cottage, her dad was asleep, Nesta woke up because I couldn’t get up the steps and she heard a bang.” You sucked in a deep breath, “I couldn’t get up the steps because….he had hurt me too badly.” He put a hand on your shoulder, he wasn’t one for physical affection like this with someone he barely knew, but he knew you needed it.

You didn’t push him away. 

“Fey and Nesta got me up the steps, it was the first time I had seen the two of them work as a team. They got me in the bath, cleaned up the blood that was staining my legs, my…everything.” 

He tried to keep his rage contained, however it was hard, you felt the air turn denser. 

“I appreciate the sentiment, Rhysand.” You laughed bitterly. “It’s over and done with.” 

“Do you want revenge?” 

You sighed, “Yes, which makes me terrible-”

“No it does not.” He hissed.

You shrugged, “it doesn’t matter.” 

After a brief silence he asked, “You said, at the time. Who was it?” 

“He was from the Spring Court. Not Tamlin or Lucien. Or the guy that Fey killed. But now that I am here, and I have the heightened senses. I recognize the different courts, it’s the smell. He smelled like the Spring Court.” 

“Can I see what he looked like?” Rhysand asked. 

You nodded and let him into your mind.

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

During the war, it had completely slipped your mind that you had told Rhys about these things. Or rather showed him the face. Feyre had come back and then you were off fighting a war. Not too much time to dwell on things. 

But, one day you were called to “the torture chamber” as you called it, however Azriel disapproved even though he also agreed. He just didn’t like how blunt you were about it. 

“What is this?” You asked. 

That’s when you could smell it. The smell of dandelions and dewy grass. The smell that had haunted your nightmares long before Hybern had. You saw him tied to a chair, beaten and bloody, his mouth had a gag stuffed in it. Azriel was behind him, Rhysand off to the side and Feyre was behind you, she had come with you. But based off the look on her face, she knew all along. 

“You can either kill him or I will.” 

“Doesn’t this look bad, High Lord?” You asked, quirking an eyebrow. “If this gets out…” 

“Oh it can, I don’t particularly care, let them know I don’t tolerate anyone being raped, let alone someone in my court. Let Tamlin come and try to defend this.” 

“He’s an asshole, but he never raped me.” Feyre walked up and put a sword in your hands. “Gut him like a fish.” 

You took the sword, ready. You looked at him as he wept. “Do you remember me?” 

Silence. 

You lifted his head with the tip of the sword, drawing blood that trickled down the metal. 

Gods, nothing has ever looked so fun. 

“I said, do you remember me?” You asked in an innocent voice. 

He shook his head, screaming around the gag. 

You widened your eyes, mockingly, “you know I screamed that night too.” 

HIs eyes widened, you didn’t know if he was recognizing your scent, or if he had done this to multiple people and he’s trying to figure out which one you were. “You went across the wall, found an innocent sixteen year old girl. A child. You took me out there and you raped me. And then at the end, when I was crying into the dirt, begging for the Mother to put me to sleep so I would stop hurting; do you remember what you said?” You asked. 

He didn’t answer, so you shoved the blade in deeper, causing a bigger waterfall the color of revenge to cascade down the blade. “I asked a question.”

He shook his head. 

You let a cruel smile slip. “You said that with the way I was acting, I had it coming.” You laughed and his eyes widened. “And now, you’ll see what you’ve had coming all these years.” 

With that you moved the sword. He let out a breath, but then saw you go to the table and grab pliers. 

“How many people?” You asked starting with his finger, that’s when you saw the wedding ring. You laughed coldly. “What poor person did you trap?” 

He glared, you smiled and took the pliers and pulled off a fingernail. He screamed around his gag and it was music to you. “I ask again, how many?” 

He kept screaming, so you kept pulling. 

Once you started on the other hand, that’s when he stopped screaming and began nodding. “You’ll tell me?” You asked. 

He nodded so you removed the gag. “Nine.” 

You let out a laugh through your nose. Not a genuine one of course, but one that showed you were about to become even more angry. “Do you remember their faces?” 

He nodded and you looked at Rhysand, “if you’d ever be so kind. I want to pay them a visit.” 

To let them know their monster is dead, and he did not die a slow death. 

Rhysand nodded to let you know, he intruded the male's mind and then left the room with Feyre. 

He would show her their faces, she would draw from memory. Then you would find them to give them peace that he was dead. 

Only Azriel was left in the cell.

Then you smiled again, a twisted and evil one, “and now our fun begins.” 

That’s when you smelled the urine. 

And your smile grew bigger. 

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

The male was later found staked to a rock by the wall. An ice pick through his forehead and his hands, pinning him to the old stone. The word “rapist” was carved into his naked chest. All fingers were broken and nine teeth were pulled out of his mouth. 

Then a letter was sent to eight houses, explaining that their monster was dead and if they chose to, they could see what became of him by going to a certain spot. 

All eight showed up. 

Well nine but no one could see her. No one could see her or the High Lord of Night Court watching. 

“You feel better?” 

You sighed, “murder is bad, however I can rest easy knowing he’s dead.” 

“Yeah, you definitely know he is.” 

You snorted, “I may have had a bit of fun.”

“He definitely deserved it, the thing with his penis though was twisted.” 

You laughed outright at that. “That was Azriel’s touch.” 

Rhysand shuddered, “once again the guy deserved it, but Gods, you filet’d that thing.” 

“They’ll find it in the autopsy.” You shrugged, sipping your hot chocolate, that fought off the cold Sunday morning. 

He lifted his cup over for a cheers and you clinked, and both of you took a sip. “We’re fucked in the head aren’t we?” You said. 

He nodded, “Oh we definitely are. At least we’re surrounded by other fucked individuals.” 

“Cheers to that.” 

And once again you clinked mugs. 

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

The next day you were called into the Feyre and Rhysand’s office, part of you wondered if it meant that the mortals had connected the murder of the Night Court and now you’d have to pay for what you’d done. 

But when you walked in, Feyre was smiling genuinely. 

Rhysand gave her a loving look, “could you at least pretend it’s something bad just to mess with her?” He drawled teasingly. 

“She’s my best friend, she’d know I was lying.” Feyre responded as if Rhysand was dumb. 

Could confirm, you would know. 

“I thought I was your best friend.” Rhysand put a hand to his chest as if he was offended but you both could tell he was not. 

You and Feyre shared a look and rolled your eyes in unison. 

“Can I just know what’s going on?” You asked. 

“We want you to be the Night Court’s Justice.” “...Isn’t that what Azriel is for?” 

“Azriel is for collecting information on enemies. You will basically be an assassin for us.” Rhysand explained. “If you so desire.” 

“Who would I go after?” 

“Anybody that poses a threat to my family.” His eyes flashed with anger. “Someone hurts anyone, including you. Then you have our full permission to slit their throats.” He said. “Obviously, we’d give you assignments. When you don’t have assignments you’d be working alongside Azriel.”

You nodded and then went, “fuck it. Okay.” 

“You don’t want to think about it?” Feyre asked. 

“If I’m taking out people that are like the bastard I just killed, then I will do it. Rapists deserve nothing else.” 

Rhysand smirked, “welcome to the court.”

[charliehoennam]

karma's kiss

a/n: @harmonity-vibes requested a smutty lil fic with anthony because he is foooooine so here it is

Pairing: Anthony Saint Claire x F!Reader

Summary: Anthony finds himself swindled by a con-artist and tracks her down to get his own justice.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dark themes like rough sex, asphyxiation, stealing, dub-con, smut (let's remember anthony is not a nice guy like our sweet little adorable professor so read at your own risk)

SHARING IS CARING SO REBLOG IF YOU LIKE IT

The bar you’re in is far different compared to the dive bars you started in your early years.

Your job isn't the kind you include in resumés, but it's paid your bills since college and you've managed to work your way up to a more high-end clientele.

Sitting at the bar, you can feel eyes boring into your side as you sip your daiquiri.

You smile at the bearded man, waiting to see if he'll approach you first. And, indeed, he does taking your smile as an invitation.

"Staring isn't very polite, you know" you smirk setting your drink on the bar as he sits next to you.

"Well, can you blame me? A beautiful woman like you in a dress like that is bound to get some attention, right?" he smiles slyly.

You smile pretending to be flattered by his compliment. It's nothing you haven't already heard before. It might be just bait that he tells all the girls he meets to get what he wants out of them, but you have to admit it feels a little nice coming from someone as attractive as he is.

In order to hide your real name and identity, you give him a fake name as you hold your hand out to shake his.

"Anthony," he smirks shaking your hand lightly before lifting his whisky for a sip. "Are you here with your husband?"

He glances down at the fake wedding ring and band on your finger. There is no husband. You just wear the rings because you've found it makes you more intriguing to most men.

You never really understood why, but if you had to guess, you'd guess it must have something to do with the chauvinistic idea of conquering something that's not theirs or that belongs to another man.

It doesn't exactly surprise to see a gold band on his finger too.,

"Are you here with your wife?" you retort.

"Touché," he smirks raising his glass to your witty observation.

"I'm not here with my husband, but he does know I'm here."

"Your husband lets you go out alone dressed like that?"

"We have an open relationship."

Anthony's smile stretches from ear to ear. Attending underground sex clubs, he's no strangers to forbidden kinks. They arouse him. Your beauty attracted him, but now, you have his full attention.

"That's interesting. You don't hear that every day," he smirks. "Tell me more about this relationship. I'm intrigued."

"Well, once a week, he allows me to go out on my own. I like getting to meet new people and he likes watching me get fucked by other men."

Your bluntness has his cheeks turning pink as he beams with amazement.

"So it's a kink?"

"I prefer the term alternative modern lifestyle," you smile mischievously at him. "Keeps the marriage spicy."

"I can imagine. And how's it work huh?"

"I go out, find a very attractive man," you explain glancing at his lips and making no effort to hide it. "We talk, drink, kiss and I take him home to fuck me in front of my husband."

"Seems simple enough" he smirks catching your glance at his lips. "How do you choose the man?"

"Consent is the most important factor, of course. If he's not alright with that, then everything stops. But I tend to gravitate towards those that are more pleasing to the eye."

"And are there candidates yet?"

"The night is still young. This is still my first drink and I'm already interviewing one," you reply with a cheeky smile.

"Oh, my. I am very flattered," he chuckles pretending to be surprised. "I'm very interested. Although I've never done anything like this before."

"You'd be surprised at how many have."

"I'm guessing a lot?"

"More than you think. Open relationships are becoming more and more common and accepted nowadays."

It hardly takes him any further convincing. You can tell by the way his legs and hips squirm in his seat he's turned on by the sole thought of it.

Moving to a more private table, you sit in the corner of the high-end bar sharing details about what you and your husband enjoy.

Anthony is up for anything. Just the thrill of fucking you in front of your husband already his dick leaking with anticipation.

The hardness in his pants is noticeable when you place your palm on his crotch after he tells you how big he is when you ask about his size.

Granted he is perfectly sized and thick, it doesn't change any of the plans you have for him.

You invite him to come back to the motel you're staying at under the guise you and your husband always go out of town for your escapades to avoid running into people you might work who wouldn't understand your lifestyle.

A sexual deviant himself, he knows just how well it is to have to hide your sexual fantasies and desires from others.

In the backseat of a taxi on the way to the motel, his lips are all over yours mauling yours as his head tilts to the side. His tongue wrestles for dominance between you. The thumb on the hand on your neck strokes your cheek.

His touch warms you from the inside. You can't let yourself give in, but it doesn't mean you can't enjoy it while you can.

You have to focus. This is our opportunity to get what you need.

Your hand glides down his chest under his leather jacket towards his crotch. With a firm unexpected squeeze to his cock, he moans into your mouth.

The driver can't help but glance at the rearview mirror, torn between stopping you from getting too heated and letting you go on to enjoy the show.

You palm Anthony's cock over his jeans. You have to admit, the man does have a nice size that makes your panties wet.

Reveling in your touch, his knees spread to invite you in as his torso adjusts to face the front.

"You like that, huh?"

"Can't wait to get my mouth around it."

"Why wait?" He smirks darkly.

Taking a glimpse at the driver, he immediately looks away and back to the road when your eyes meet his in the mirror.

You smirk back at Anthony as he unbuttons his jeans and pulls his cock out.

Lowering into the darkness of the backseat, you lean down to take it into your mouth, letting your tongue swirl around his tip to lap at his precum.

Anthony closes his eyes as his head dips backwards at the welcomed warmth of your mouth. With one arm stretched along the backseat, he uses the other to rest his hand against your bobbing head.

Too lost in the sensation, he doesn't notice or feel your hand sneaking into his pocket to steal his wallet.

The thrill of accomplishing your mission excites you enough to add a little more enthusiasm into the blowjob until the driver clears his throat to get your attention as the car rolls to a stop.

"We're here. That'll be 8.50."

"I got it" you say quickly to stop Anthony from looking for his wallet.

Taking a 10-dollar bill from your bra while Anthony tucks himself away, you hand the money to the driver and thank him telling him to keep the change.

Climbing out of the cab, you lead him to your room fumbling for your room key.

Anthony follows you inside and takes a look around. The room is nothing fancy as expected but it has a double bed which is all you need. Or so he thinks.

"My husband is on his way. He'll be here soon. Why don't you get comfortable while I freshen up real quick? I'll be just a minute."

You smirk sliding your hands up his chest to gently push at his black leather jacket.

“Don’t mind if I do,” he smirks down at you with lustful eyes.

As he shrugs off his jacket, you walk to the bathroom. While he takes his shoes off, you quickly race to the back wall of the bathroom to open the high shower window. You pop off the bug screen and let it fall to the ground. The collision makes an echoing noise and catches Anthony’s attention.

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself.

Using the ledge of the dingy tub, you pull yourself up into the window and see-saw on the sill. You planned the escape; should’ve also planned the landing of it.

Your heart races when Anthony knocks on the locked door.

“Hey, sweetheart. Everything ok in there?” he questions growing suspicious.

Your legs flail in the air, knocking the shower rod and one of your high heels down. The clattering encourages him to throw his shoulder against the door to bust it open. Pushing yourself forward, you hold your arms out to soften the drop to the ground outside just as Anthony is able to break inside, catching a quick glimpse your feet just before they slip out of view.

“Hey! The fuck are you going?!” Anthony shouts bewildered as he pats his pockets for his phone and realizes his wallet is gone so he darts to the window, standing on his toes to pop his head outside.

It dawns on him that this is a set-up. Everything you told him was merely a lie to get him alone. And now he’s stuck in a run-down motel with no way to chase after you.

“Hey! Get back here, you little fucking thief!”

Giggling to yourself with his wallet in hand, you quickly limp toward the car you’d left in the alleyway behind the motel specifically for your get-away.

He tries to climb out through the window and, although he’s much better at it than you, you’re already speeding down the alleyway and onto the road when he stands up. He tries to run after you, but he knows his feet are no match to your car.

“Fuck!” he shouts angrily as he pants.

Standing in the alleyway, he quickly whips out the cellphone you thankfully managed to leave behind and types in the digits of your license plate in his digital notes before he can forget them.

Once they’re saved, he goes through his list of contacts which – unfortunately for you – is rather long and full of assorted figures. Some, which thanks to his night job in an underground sex club, happen to be people in powerful positions. Judges, lawyers, law enforcement. You name the job and he’s guaranteed to have someone of the area in his pocket.

Cashing in a favor with a sketchy local sergeant of the police department, Anthony asks him to notify him as soon as they get a hit on your plate. The sergeant doesn’t ask any questions. Anthony wouldn’t answer him with anything other than a threat of blackmail if he didn’t, but the less he knows, the better.

It takes a few days, but Anthony eventually gets a call informing of the car’s whereabouts and original owner. He’s not surprised to know it’s not you.

Assuming you live practically on the run, moving from motel to motel, he knows he has to act fact but still cautiously. There’s still quite a bit that he doesn’t know about you like if you work with any other parties or if you impose any danger. And if so, what level of danger could it be?

With a recently purchased gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans, he sets his helmet on and speeds off to the illegally given address. He lurks from a distance and waits until you finally leave the room.

He keeps his distance from you, but decided to stalk you as you go about your day, buying groceries and clothes with his money. There wasn’t much pocket money, but you were able to clone his cards and identity to cash up a couple thousand.

He could’ve stopped you and cancelled all his cards, filed an official report. But you’ve would known and been caught before he’s had the chance to make you pay. And a couple thousands aren’t going to cause a lot of financial troubles for him, thanks to his fairly wealthy income from the night job.

As you go about your day, you can’t shake the feeling that someone is onto you. You keep looking over your shoulder, but there’s no one there. No one that you notice, at least. But then again, you always get this feeling after a theft.

You head back to the motel where you’d left your car. After a theft gone right, you always opt to get around on foot with the most important things in your bag at the slightest sight of a cop. That way, if anyone is onto you, it could provide you some time to get away.

Assuring the motel is safe, you head to the room you’d paid to stay at for the night and unlock the door. But just as you open the door, you instantly feel cold metal press against the side of your head. Your groceries drop and scatter on the ground as you hold your hands up.

“Don’t get smart again. I found you once and I can find you again.”

You can’t see the face of the figure, but you can tell it’s a man and you’re almost certain who he is.

“Close the door and step away from it.”

You don’t have much of an option. Run away and he’ll find you again. Or worse, shoot you down in the parking lot of this crappy motel and that’s not how you want to die.

With your hands carefully raised, you slowly close the door with your foot and walk deeper into the room just as ordered. You keep your back turned to him as he locks the door and face him only after he says you can.

The newfound power intoxicates him. It swells him with an authority that he's never felt before. You, on the other hand, are filled with fear. You try to play it cool to avoid letting him know that you're actually scared.

With your hands carefully raised, you slowly close the door with your foot and walk deeper into the room just as ordered. You keep your back turned to him as he locks the door and face him only after he says you can.

"I want my money and my documents back."

"I can give your documents back and all the copies I've made. But the money is already gone. I already spent it."

"Well, it seems like we got a bit of a predicament here, doesn't it?"

"I can pay you back, but it's gonna take some time."

"I don't have time," he lies. "I want it back now."

"I don't have any money now. Why do you think I do this?" You sigh. "Look, what if... I paid you back some other way?"

"What other way?"

You lower your hand to unbutton your white shirt and reveal your lacy bra.

"This is what you wanted in the first place, isn't it?"

His eyes lower from your face down to your chest. He stays silent, considering your offer but his gun stays aimed at you. 

"It was..  it still is."

"So why don't you put that away and take what you want?"

A sly smirk grows on his lips. His eyes darken with a sudden and familiar lust that revisits his being.

"I'm gonna keep this, just in case." He stated walking over to sit on the bed, manspreading his legs as he keeps the gun pointed at you.

"C'mere. On your knees."

Glancing at the weapon, you take slow steps to approach him and kneel between his knees.

"You know what to do. You did it so well before. Don't be shy now." 

You nod and raise your shaky hands to unbutton his jeans, pulling down his zipper.

Feeling the end of the barrel rest against the side of your head, you carefully release his dick from it's confine. It's not quite hard as before, but its getting there with you under his will.

You hold his dick up to take him into your mouth, lathering his member with your spit.

"Eyes up here, sweetheart."

His order is your command which you obey. You don't know what he's capable of and you don't want to find out.

Looking up at him, he relishes in the contrast of your teary eyes and dirty mouth full of his dick. He takes his free hand and threads his fingers into your hair, holding it back to keep it away from distracting you. How thoughtful, you think sarcastically.

Anthony's moans and groans fill the room as he breathes heavily, cock twitching with every bob of your head.

The grip on your hair tightens with every twitch. After forcing himself to the back of your throat, you buy yourself sometime to breath by licking up the backside of his heavy cock and swirling your tongue around his dome, putting your saliva pool against your plush lips.

"Fucking Christ" he groans deeply as he watches your mouth working its wonders, his angry cock throbbing with desire.

"Take them off" he orders nodding at your clothes.

Obeying his command, you slowly stand between his knees and unbutton your pants. He tisks as you move too fast.

“Slow… and turn around for me.”

You turn your back to him and slowly push your pants down, gliding your palms over your cheeks as you undress just to tease him a little. You figure you might as well enjoy it.

He smirks at the sight of your matching panties and admires how they perfectly hug your curves. As you bend forward to push your pants down to your ankles, he takes advantage of your position and trails the edge of his gun down the split of your cheeks.

Your body tenses at the touch of cold metal. You remind yourself to take calming breaths to keep yourself together.

“Nice fucking ass you got here, sweetheart,” he simpers, poking the barrel at your clothed cunt from behind. “Bet you got a cute pussy too…. Show me it.”

You gulp and lift your trembling hands to slide your panties down to reveal yourself to him. Although Anthony is undoubtedly attracted, you don’t trust him. The fact that your life is essentially in his hands is still in your mind. You comply to his orders, but you pray that he doesn’t hurt you too much. Not enough to be fatal at least.

“Atta girl.” He says removing the gun from between your legs. You quietly sigh in relief.

“Now come on over here.” Anthony stands behind you and presses the gun into your side.

“On the bed. Face down.”

Accepting your fate, you climb onto the mattress and lay on your front. Out of your view, you hear the jostling of his belt as he removes it with one hand and climbs on top of your legs to lock you in place. Setting the gun beside his foot, he takes the belt and tightens the leather tightly around your wrists.

You wince as the leather pinches your skin, but he doesn’t seem to care if it hurts you. You can feel his emotionless eyes on you, so you turn your head to the side to avoid look at him.

He climbs off of you and the bed, but he stays close. You try to zone out as you listen to him undress.

Walking around the bed now completely naked, he kneels down to pet your hair and wipes a tear from your cheek.

“Listen, sweetheart. I’m sorry for the scare. I’m not gonna kill you, alright? I’m not a monster.”

You nod looking up at him confused.

“I’m just gonna fuck you. Really, really hard. I think I deserve to get my money’s worth, right? Even you gotta agree with me on that.”

His words don’t exactly ease you, but the promise that he won’t shoot you dead is enough. After all, he doesn’t have to. It’s not like you can simply go to the cops to report him anyways.

“Ok,” you agree. “C-can you just please put the gun away?”

“I can do that. But don’t get smart. Deal?”

“Deal.”

He walks back around the bed and takes his gun to set it on the nightstand. You feel like you can finally breathe after what seemed like hours holding your breath.

You feel his weight on the mattress as it dips beside you again. He pulls you up by your arms and stands you on your knees.

“I want you to do something for me first. Sit on my face. Can you do that?”

You’re almost surprised by his request and the contact on your wrists as he unbuckles the belt, letting your wrists go just to bind them again but in front of you this time. He wants to…. pleasure you?

“I’ll make you cum if you’re a good girl.”

Once he’s on his back on the bed, you straddle his head carefully and lower your hips down to meet with his hungry mouth. With your ass spread by his hands, you lean forward to place your hands on his taut abs for balance.

You can’t hold back the moan you release as he licks a long-wet stripe from your hardening clit to your puckered ring of muscle. The hands that keep your cheeks apart squeezes into your flesh when his tongue begins its work on your pussy.

Anthony just can’t enough of you. Your taste is wonderfully delicious to him that he just has to fuck you with his tongue. And the position allows him to flick at your sensitive nub, making your walls slick.

“Jesus, fuck!” you gasp as he toys with your clit bringing you closer and closer to the brink. You’re so turned on although you feel like you shouldn’t be. He held you at gunpoint. This is wrong. So wrong, but it feels so fucking good.

His beard heightens the sensitivity between your legs as his nose pokes at your asshole. He pulls your hips down against his face harder, restricting himself of air.

“T-That feels so good!” you whine with tears prickling at your eyes feeling the pleasure snaps in waves throughout your body.

You’re not sure what comes over you, but you find yourself leaning forward to wrap your mouth around his cock again. The burning heat that bubbles from your core provoking yet another orgasm has you so hot for him that you need to suck him off.

He chuckles surprised by your sudden urge as he lifts your hips up to hiss out in pleasure. It doesn’t take him long to start thrusting his hips violently up, shoving his cock down your throat. He stops suddenly and pushes you off him, feeling himself close.

Shoving you onto your back, he spreads your legs and eagers aligns his dick with your hole before pushing himself into your wetness.

His hips relentlessly thrust against yours as he pounds you raw. The sounds of your wet cunt squelching around him make your cheeks warm as you realize how wet you really are for him.

The lecherous stare down at your body proves he’s getting closer. He pants as he watches your breast bouncing free from your bra. Eager to feel them, he stills and tear the bra in half to expose you completely.

He growls dipping his head to grope and maul at your breasts. Your skin burns with his prickly beard and rough teething kisses.

With one hand squeezing your breast, the other sneaks around your neck. He squeezes your neck and throat, choking you as he restricts your oxygen. His hips drill you into the mattress as you watch him, slowly losing your conscious.

Anthony looks like he’s been possessed by something else and it scares you a bit. You claw at his wrists as you feel the pressure in your head weighing heavy. Your eyes roll to the back of your head from the combination of pleasure and pain.

You gasp for air as he finally releases your neck and fills you with his heavy load, spilling into your pussy in hot ropes.

He pants as he eases his cock out and into you again, admiring how his cum trickles out from your hole and coats his cock.

“We’re gonna have a very long night.”

“Night?” you question. Could you even last a night with him?

“I told you. I want my money’s worth.”

[jackhues]

karma - auston matthews

notes: this is based off of @matthewshisch's idea (karma is the guy on the leafs)! so s/o to her <3 also, reader is a singer :)) AND gif not mine !

likes are good, reblogs are better!

being a celebrity meant that no matter what, one thing would always be a fixed thing in your life. and that was the rumours.

one week you were dating a new guy. the next, you were engaged to some kid from your hometown. the next week, you were back with your ex.

no matter what, the dating rumours always flew around you. maybe the fact that you never made it public with anyone fuelled those even more. whatever the case, it was funny reading them.

especially when you thought about what you had planned for tonight.

a knock sounded on your door, followed by a familiar voice, "did someone order some flowers?"

you couldn't help the smile growing on your face as you made eye contact with auston in the mirror.

you were in your dressing room at the stadium, getting ready for the opening night of your multi-month tour. you'd worked hard to get to where you were now -- one of the most successful female artists in the world.

and right there by your side, supporting you for the past year, was none other than auston matthews, your boyfriend. you'd met at a leafs game years ago, but he'd only reached out to you just over a year before. ever since then, the two of you kept your relationship under wraps for the most part, doing your best to just enjoy your time together without the media's comments.

you'd talked about going public before, but for the most part, decided to let life take it's course. of course... tonight would be a pretty big surprise.

"hi, you made it," you got up from your chair, sinking into his arms for a hug.

"i wouldn't miss this for the world," he responded, placing a kiss to the top of your head. "it's my girl's big day. first tour in almost three years. nothing's gonna stop me from being here."

you grinned stupidly to yourself, finding auston's words so comforting and sweet. even after a whole year, he managed to make you feel giddy.

"i'm really happy you're here," you whispered, pulling away. "oh! i've got a surprise for you, but i can't give it to you right now. i'll give it after, okay?"

"a surprise for me?" auston repeated. "it's your day."

"hush, i wanted to do it," you said.

another knock sounded on your door, and your assistant, jenny, poked her head in. "y/n, we've got to start in ten. let's go. auston, mark's got your seat saved. head over quick, or someone'll spot you."

"that's not a big deal," auston waved it off. "if someone spots me, they spot me. it's not the end of the world."

"well, fact remains, we need y/n right now," she said. "c'mon, you can have her back when she's done her show."

"i'll see you soon," you kissed auston, before following jenny out to your position.

you adjusted your earpiece, waiting for the lights to dim. as soon as they did, the platform you were standing on moved higher, allowing you to enter directly on stage.

the lights turned back on, and the crowd went wild.

"let the show begin," you whispered to yourself.

---

"'cause karma is the thunder," you sang, "rattling your ground. karma's on your scent like a bounty hunter. karma's gonna track you down."

the crowd waved their flashlights in the air, following you as you continued dancing to the beat of the song, singing along. getting closer and closer to the surprise you planned for auston.

"step by step from town to town," you continued. "sweet like justice, karma is a queen. karma takes all my friends to the summit..."

you paused for half a second, allowing production to ready themselves and for the crowd to pay attention to the small change.

"karma is the guy on the leafs, coming straight home to me!"

you stomped on the mark, blue sparklers going off on either side of the stage -- matching with the colour of your dress and the leafs' colours.

the crowd screamed as you continued your performance, losing their minds at the confirmation that you and auston were dating.

"cause karma is my boyfriend," you locked eyes with auston in the crowd, noticing him smiling widely to himself as people nearby recorded the interaction. winking at him, you continued your song, "karma is a god."

the crowd continued chanting throughout the song, no one truly getting over the lyric change you'd done.

you had a feeling there were gonna be rumours about this for a while.

---

tags : @woodruff-edwards , @austinbutlerscaresme ,  @svechnikovvv ,  @hockeyboysarehot , @emptyflowerpots ,  @mysticaldonkey , @lam-ila ,  @babydollmarauders , @starjoyyy  ,  @kjohnson-91 , @gavinbrindley, @hischierdevils , @jackhughesily  , @panarin10 ,  @equallyshaw ,   @power2myheart  ,  @lynnismypseudonym , @beccaiscold , @akengii , @nowandkei , @cinnamonpancakes , @mitchymainer , @lifeofpriya ,  @marshmallow-babe, @hughesx3 ,  @emsully2002  ,  @starsandhughes , @huggy-hischier73 ,  @doglady5678 , @thatoneblog , @exonct07 @hughesmedicine , @qwanelledingele , @mindless-rock , @ireadthensuetheauthors , @huggy-hischier94, @slaythehousedownboots , @diary-of-jj

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[court-jobi]

hi! i love your works so much!!! i was wondering if i could request a hawks x pop princess f! reader?

like he does security for her groups concert and hes like “pffft im number 2 why do i need to be here”. then he watches her during sound check and is like okay i need to know more about her. so while shes getting ready hes just hovering backstage trying to talk to her. after the show she finally gives him her number (def against her companies wishes) and hes like trying to be suave and flirty and shes like “oh my god why is this working”. just a lot of hawks being a lover boy and sending gifts to her company anonymously and cutesy stuff like that lol. they have to keep their relationship a secret bc her company has a very strict no dating unless we agree rule. can be pre or post war hawks btw! you can take this wherever you want with it as well! can be nsfw or not.

im sorry that was so long! i was trying to make sure my thoughts were coherent lol.

Ooooo I love this idea so much, what a lovely dynamic to picture: a fanboy Hawks for a change, perhaps?? ~ this was a fun one to work on! @strwbrrykthv i sure hope this one was worth the wait and that I've done it justice!

You all are seriously the best readers a gal could ask for, and these requests are ✨giving me life✨~ Keep 'em coming!!

Who Has the Mic

Words: 4.3k

Rating: T

Warnings: Pro Hero!Hawks x popstar fem!reader, forbidden romance, flirting, mostly FLUFF, mentions of canon-typical threats, protective instincts, Hawks is a little shitTM, we love him your honor

for my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

Hawks falls prey to a special thrill out of extending favors to others. 

‘I owe ya one’-- such a simple nicety that in the beginning, he doubts anyone would truly come to collect on it. It makes him sound agreeable, charming, starved for connection even before the height of his inevitable fame. 

Then he rose and rose in the hero rankings, securing himself into the very visible and wildly popular top spot, in terms of viewer popularity. 

It’s now that the redemptions of Hawks’ pro-hero favors have come rolling in… The unexpected keeps him on his toes and entertains him for the most part; and if it’s all for the sake of protecting others, then why not have a little fun with it? 

Once upon an overbearing press conference, back when he was first tiptoeing into the public scene… Hawks begged a makeup artist on staff for a spot to hide out in the green room and sneak a snack or two (or ten). He was granted pity for a teenager expected to take a seat at the table of an albeit boring Commission presentation. Well, it seems that particular makeup-artist rose within the talent realm themselves, and ended up reaching out to “that flyboy kid” back for a surprising accommodation: 

Top tier talent warrants top tier security.

Hawks takes a call at his agency and soon finds himself ushered in for the Tokyo opener of the reigning top-of-the-charts pop star with a voice of gold. The first meeting of old acquaintances led the Pro-Hero to tour the brand new, sky-high facilities, then return for the load-in day of the stage. Again for first dress, and each night of the week-long residency.

He carries his presence on the stealthier side, far above the stage floor in the scaffolding. Up here, lights are rigged with steel supports running every which way, where he executes perfect balance while walking in a straight line atop them. He’s checked -double and triple- that each outlet is free from hazard, each line of multi-ton equipment has been secured and safe, so that even his ‘adventuring’ from up high is not a risk.

He’s happy for the variety of work he faces as a hero- but right now, he’s bored. He shouldn't be feeling so dreadful, especially on the job, but he is. It’s not his style to be so down, after all. But Hawks has checked into every nook and cranny of this place and for the sake of an understandably hypervigilant security team, has an eye for which points of entry and exit could use a bird’s eye view come showtime.

His muscles are used to far more fast-paced antics and time-sensitive chases; not traipsing around like a literal vulture ready to swoop in at any moment. Surely he’s needed elsewhere.

But the threats have been rolling in… as they do for all of these larger-than-life musician types who found their way into the spotlight. They’re at risk of going in blind if they don’t have a good team around them to help them see.

So here he is, playing guardian angel to do his part and make sure all goes smoothly. It's a big operation by his count; there’s sixty members on the tech roster, plus the venue stage manager and their contracted staff, then all performers, and of course the headliner. Now where she is, he’d like to know– for not so selfless reasons.

He’d know her music by heart, given how much of an earworm and personal anthem her songs have become for him. It’s rare that the tables are turned, where Hawks is the fanboy and someone else is the idol. That dream is his dangling carrot for completing this mission successfully: he has the most sought-after bodyguard duty in the nation, and as good as a front row seat to her show.

Yet in a weird sense, Hawks also kinda hopes he never meets her. Doesn’t want to crush that bubble, ruin the allusion of the woman he’s got set as his ringtone.

So, he just runs his headcounts on all bodies supposed to be present at the top-of-show meeting to busy his mind. All is in order. ‘Cues’ are rounding up the pre-show acts, each in plainclothes for this rough stumble-through. Still doesn’t see the little starlet yet, and he gets the residual feeling that this might be typical behavior of ‘the talent’ to show up whenever she damn well pleases. 

Though funnily enough, he spots a pretty thing down there sporting some Hawks merch! Always nice to see a supportive fan in the most unlikely places… 

It's a well-fitting quarterzip sporting his red feather blades down each arm, an item he vaguely recognizes from this season’s newest launch. She’s got headphones on and subtly bopping about in her own little world, perhaps running through tonight’s set under her breath, if her self-contained taps of the fingers are an indication of her keeping beat. 

Hawks’ curious attention to that girl on the fringes of the stage is pulled when he hears the strict timbre of the stage director he’d met on day one take center stage.

“Ok, time to rein it in. As we covered in the email from Sec-Eng- which I’m assuming you gen-z’ers have read,” the bossman snarks to the younger members of this crew down below, “we’ve got some additional eyes in the sky pulling security for this leg in the tour. So, I want to give you all a chance to get your excitement out -along with your thanks- to our equally chart-topping hero, Hawks~ who’s… somewhere around here.”

Hoodie girl blanched– as if she’d been told she’d need to share her internet history to her grandmother. Immediately, she tosses off her headset and starts frantically stripping herself of the jacket she wore. While enthusiastic heads all fly around in every direction in search of the hero, Hawks chuckles at the sight of her alone. 

“...//Well, he’s probably checking the perimeters anyway//. How bout we all just send a big thank-you, eh?”

The couple of ‘Hoodie’s fellow dancers were poking fun at her -poor thing still flushed and clammed up- while the group gave a loud, singsongy ‘thank you!!’ up to the stage doors, assuming the Pro-Hero might be busting in, grand entrance fashion on command. The love-laden response from the dancers makes Hawks roll his eyes lightly, but he appreciates their praise all the same.

They giggle about in jazzed excitement with one’s voice carried out squealish and feminine, despite their professional assembly,

“Oh my god, you must be in HEAVEN!! He’s gonna be watching you ALL NIGHT!”

‘Hoodie’ looks downright mortified. The others have seemed to gather around spouting nothing but encouragement to this little fan girl who's doing her best to put on a poker face. Adorable. 

“Now we also need to make some edits before the crew breaks for lunch, everyone, so we are gonna start today with opening of Set 5 instead- hold.. Hold on… WHO HAS THE GOD MIC??”

The mics table scrambles for the one handheld microphone with omniscient audio range to the house. Surely it's the one thing they wouldn't lose and should hand straight to the Stage Manager, right? 

Well, said mic was sitting unattended there on the cart earlier… all for the Winged Hero’s taking when he was making his preliminary sweep earlier. 

From his inner jacket pocket, Hawks catches his lip in his teeth as he remembers where to turn the thing on. Once his throat cleared and the mic blinks red in sync with the soundboard, he amplifies a little trademark bird whistle: for each and every soul in sight to hear. 

The stage erupts in excitement, as planned. ‘Hoodie’ immediately teeters over to one of the props hideaways and stows said jacket away. 

Hawks chuckles with the mic at chest level– only to call her out from his perch,

“Saw that, dear~”

Seems logic caught up with the poor thing, as she -finally- pieced together the true vantage point of her idol’s presence, and looked up. 

Sparing her too much embarrassment, Hawks simply cocked his head on a folded up fist and gave a little wave of some fingers to her. 

Despite her clear shock and surprise, she did smile brilliantly back and gave a little signed ‘thank you for being here’ rather than a scream like all the others.

The stage manager followed her line of sight to where the hero stands in wait, ready to dismount and return his bit of cheekily stolen equipment. Despite some bewildered aggravation to Hawks’ antics, he gestures with the exhaustion of a high school teacher.

“There now, see kids? That's how you protect your voices before a show!! Better than belting your way to the doctor’s office. Our star here sure leads by example now doesn't she–” 

In rare form for the hero, it's Hawks’ turn to be stunned. His fangirl: it’s you.

Everyone else may be calling that first call time your lucky day… but you were intimidated to the point of feeling ill. Thank goodness for your poker face; because locking eyes with Hawks’ stunning crimson canopy and giving you that wink and a grin about sent you into a heart attack. 

You're starstruck. The absolute heartthrob of an idol you revere as your favorite Pro-Hero has been standing over 150 meters above your head, watching for every sign of danger that could threaten you for the last week. 

That near guarantee of safety would trump your fleeting nerves– if you hadn’t given the first impression of a closeted fangirl like you did!!

Nothing short of awe crossed your mind when you so much as think of the hero. A very vocal fan whenever he came up in the news or your social feed amongst your inner circle. Hawks is a household name for you, who you were incredibly fond of… both in how he handled massive crowds or charmed in intimate, one-on-one interviews. 

You know the role; you suck up for cameras, too, as it's all in the optics. But for every PR-guided response you know is crafted by easy-going smiles or a disarming tone, you remember to see past the spectacle of Hawks and look for ‘him’. Remove the wings and hero getup: who is he? Can you spot the tells on camera like your mom can when she watches you? No matter how big of a global phenomenon her baby girl gets, she can still tell when you have a headache while having to give an appearance on a talk show. 

The man you spot on screen has to have a series of faults and slips. Even battle-ready heroes put their shoes on one at a time– just like everyone else. He’s sure to have a favorite lunch spot, a favorite pen to use for autographs, a favorite singer, even… 

Surely not you, but a girl can dream.

There’s a glazed-over glint in Hawks’ eyes when he very subtly checks out when being spoken to which gives you the strong suspicion you two may not be so unalike. And that list of little mannerisms has grown exponentially�� with every day that's passed:

Hawks has difficulty staying still, you've learned. He’s also much younger than people assume. Carries a crafty habit of popping up unexpectedly in a way that’s youthful– and borderline cheeky. From atop a stack of amps, to a crowdless green room, to the rigging of lights where you've stunned the crowds for the last four nights, he’s perched out of sight from your thousands of fans. 

Though each little comment thrown here and there in praise has floated down to your ears in sweet jest, things come to a head when the last night of your show arrived: where the crushing realization sought to dampen your mood. 

After tonight, you wouldn’t have your angelic, crimson-winged shadow anymore. 

But Hawks surprises you once again. 

You nearly miss it, too, once your final round of ‘surprise songs’ is revealed and you are snuck down to your assigned hideout to get ready to leave the venue. It’s back in your can-lit dressing room that you’re making double takes down the hall looking for any sign of your security team; especially the one to whom you owe a hefty ‘thank you’ to for all his efforts.

-but as your half-redressed form has donned your beloved Hawks hoodie once more, you’re not so spooked to hear a familiar whistle from behind you this time.

Headphones slung back down around his neck and wings slimmed down to a more presentable manner for tight hallways like these, Hawks slips into your prep space with a speedy uptick of steps. A knowing whisper to ‘shut the door fast so no one notices’ eeks out of him, eliciting a smile from you.

Each one of your suspicions are confirmed with that one comment alone; he knows this game well. Still, playing along with his dance of keep-away from any prying eyes (or cameras) doesn’t mean your heart isn’t  hammering away in your chest at the knowledge of getting your hero all to yourself.

So here, Hawks traipses around your makeshift room with unbidden interest– which, for such a small space, is cute to know how many little details pique his curiosity. Your various outfits still hang all facing the correct way, your personal backpack sits beside it on the end featuring your mess of pins and collected patches from the locations you’ve toured thus far. The run schedule is still taped on the wall, and below it, your laptop has your notation software open and idle onscreen.

“Well, now,” Hawks chimes in with a little crouch over the back of your empty chair, “Surely I’m not looking at our next chart-topping hit in the making, am I?”

“Maybe!” you chuckle, joining his side to quickly save your work before you forget. “It’s getting the lyrics and melody to marry right that’s the hard part. Working out the latter right now, and it’s kinda kicking my butt.”

“But you’re doing it! Look at all this– wait. Is this what you were dancing to earlier?”

Damn his powers of observation. You’d been testing out the rhythm of the hook this week– when you’d been caught under his attention.

“...M-maybe?” you hedge again.

“I knew it-” Hawks beamed, “A stunning starlet and a mastermind. What can’t you do?”

Flattered beyond belief, you answer honestly, 

“Keep myself outta trouble with my managers. Trying to, at least,” you close the laptop to conserve its power, “but between the shows and speaking engagements, it’s left me a bit starved for time to actually make the music.”

“N’why would writing get you in trouble?”

“It takes me away from all the other things I ‘have to do’,” you sigh easily. “They can bring in anyone to make the music and keep pitching songwriting teams to me to take the load off. Just think something’s gotten a little out of balance.”

Without meaning to, you held Hawks’ attention– enough to make him sit back on the armrest of your couch and listen with undivided attention while you explained your creative process more. While most J-Pop performers would be thrilled to have outside writers create the work and easy into a performance schedule with pre-set work to learn, you loved to have a hand in the writing process too. As an art form, it’s personal when you have to perform season after season. 

You’ve chatted quite a bit here and there over these last several days, though not this extensively. He was interested in so much about this whole operation, to the point where you wondered if he’d ever met any of the performers who you knew presented at some of those hero galas he went to. Apparently not, by the way he’d lock onto your every word when you spoke. Either your timekeepers (or his) would inevitably interrupt you, so back to work you two would fly off to.. though you’d seem to circle back to one another and chat about anything and everything if given the chance- little spurts of talk that always left you wanting more.

He’d commiserate with you on that front as well– the balance of stardom and freedom. Bogged down by meetings and public appearances wore on him just as much as you. With every roadblock you described about your recent album development, Hawks nodded along with expected understanding. 

The revolving issue of personal safety might have brought him into your employ, but you know more and more cases like yours filled up his day-to-day life in ways you couldn’t imagine… but he even shed some light on that as well to you. He’d burst the bubble on hero work as an industry through little asides with you offstage: comments he’d likely get reprimanded for if he ever spoke them in a public statement. 

But you’d keep his secrets safe. What happens on set stays on set.

So even now, as he’s tucked himself into your dressing room while you puttered around chatting about your true dreams of getting a new concept album wrapped by the end of the year, Hawks tuned in with genuine interest that only made your heart skip a beat for him more.

“I haven’t always gotten the time to work on it lately… though this week, I’ve had a clearer head to be in here rather than under lock and key with a security force breathing down my neck– which is largely thanks to you, Mr. Hawks.”

“Oh please,” Hawks scrunches his nose and teases, “Mr. Hawks is what the lawyers call me. Just Hawks is fine!”

You exhale, squishing back any girlish outburst from your voice at how fussy he looked. 

“All the same, thank you for your help this week,” you pressed, “It’s -uhm- not often I get to meet my favorite Pro Hero on the job…”

A pleased smirk lifts Hawks’ cheeks, though you spot a funny kind of shyness in them when he studies your sleeve rather than look you in the eye-

“Favorite, huh?” Hawks smiles, “ n’here I thought I was the lucky one, sweet’eart-” he taps his headphones for emphasis, “One day I’m listening to you on repeat on my morning commute– and the next, I’m standing two feet from you!”

“--You’re kidding.”

From his pocketed phone, Hawks challenges you with a press and hold on the speakers to boost the volume as high as it could go. Faintly, you caught your own pop vocals from your second ever album casting from Hawks’ headphones. 

You can’t believe your luck– he’s really a fan? Of yours?

The mix of sentimentality and surprise must be palpable on your face as you grasp exactly which song has Hawks spellbound before he cocks his head with a sheepish grin of his own, 

“Believe me now?”

Words fail you, but you shudder out a little giggle that speaks volumes. He tests with a smile,

“Soooo guess you wouldn’t mind if I asked a horribly stereotypical favor and snagged a selfie while I’m here?” 

Eyebrows shot up to the sky as Hawks dangled his phone between you, you immediately pause. No one on your Communications team is still backstage (to your knowledge), but the engrained warning about checking your professional list of partnerships before posting comes to mind… annoying as it is. All you want is a pic with him, too!

“Nothing for socials-” Hawks assures you with a gloved hand, “If your handlers are just as pesky as mine, they’d never let me live it down. Just– something to keep me grounded, on the hard days.”

That reasoning… it almost broke your heart just as quickly as your potential disappointment had been earlier. 

With a knowing smile, you nodded sweetly to Hawks- he’s charming in a whole new light to you.

“Only if you send it to me too, hm? Favor for a favor?”

“ ‘Course!”

Sliding up into his open space, Hawks clearly knows his best side but keeps you right in the center of his shot. That smile he makes… you are going to keep this proud glint in his eye and sight of his hand around you locked into your mind forever– even if he forgets to send it to your insta handle after this. 

It’s too brief of a moment, watching his wing curl around you though the phone’s front-facing camera burgeoning you close, head tilting gently against yours. Keeping a close-lipped smile seared into your mind when you think of him now.

Then in an even more lightning fast moment, while he’s fussing with a weird flip of his bangs, you reach to tap the shutter as you sneak a kiss onto his cheek. 

He’s stunned by the move, but by the even brighter muted smile, you stand by with pride double checking his photo gallery that the shot made it. It surely did. 

“You have a hard job, Hawks; harder and more dangerous than anyone I know,” 

You step away casually.. Though the need for distance is more for your sake than just optics of your forwardness. 

“... Thought you deserved more than one lil selfie. Hope that’s ok?”

“H-okay?” Hawks breathes out, studying his camera roll with reverence, “Better’n ok..”

Outside a muted feedback from the PA system is calling for Exit team to assemble– get staged for your departure from the venue at last.

“That’s me. Better bounce-” Hawks piped up after a small clearing of his throat. You’re nearly too shy to look at him after this-

-but when a kiss greets your hand, lifted imperceptibly fast and squeezed just as fleeting as his words grace your ears- you couldn’t look away if you tried.

“- a pleasure, dear.”

And before you can utter any further word of thanks or manage something other than a shocked smile, Hawks slips out of the room and off to hand the reins back to your team. You can barely hear from the still-live walkie talkies that your security detail is back at their regular stations, and your Pro-Hero is off for his final step of his hired work. Soon he’d be relieved of his station and off to save someone else from an unsavory fate.

He doesn’t forget to send you the photos; and you now have his private insta handle.

The photo where you snuck a peck onto his cheek would be set as your internal screenshot if it weren’t for your niece’s constant borrowing of your phone when she visits you on set… 

But now, you’re back for a month-long stay at the studio– your reward for a successful first half of the Tour.

Encouraged by your protective muse’s spark at the thought of your new music, you decide to take that energy back to Chichibu. Your headphones might as well be glued to your head, with how much you’ve head-dived into your sound mixing apps and sampling library. In fact, it’s that unwavering attention to your music that you nearly miss the most obvious sight walking through the lobby of the unassuming recording studio. Almost.

But how could you really– when the largest floral arrangement you’d ever seen is gracing the reception table? That stunning piece looks like it costs more than the linoleum flooring the desk sits on. 

A few aides have been distracted by the sight, studying the typed message attached and racking their brains for any sign of a calling card. One of your cutting room techs was currently rounding the base of the standing arrangement for some tucked note, which made you giggle how intently she was studying the thing. 

You know the sound booth manager best out of this group of other visiting accompanists,

“Lucky, lucky girl~” she reels you in excitedly, plucking the card from the other’s sights and handing to you directly. “Sorry to say there’s no hint who it’s from… but it’s for you, little bird!”

You hedge at the pet name once again– the nickname stuck unwillingly not only for your melodic talent, but the association with your clear celebrity (heroic) crush. 

However, as you read the note, the immediate assumption that this may have been another gift from a venue host was thrown right out the window…

This was a personal gift:

To keep my genius company while she makes her magic~ No one can give us the stories you can; don’t ever  let them take your voice. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve heard. Can’t wait to hear the new demo!

“No matter how high or low I am.. a piece of me will be here with you. It’s- where I'd rather be... Till next time…”

“Next time? Wait, who sent these again?!”

“It was just the delivery guy, from that really flouncy place downtown~” the receptionist answers with interest.

“Nooo, I mean on the card! Who signed the card?

“There's nothing– no initials, nothing..” you confirmed, still reeling over the message. But as you trail off over the cascade of tropical flowers, the flecks of red blooms catch your eye and bring you to study harder. 

Then- tucked under some deep green curls- a spot of red hides. A quill amongst the mossy padding of the arrangement- not unlike a surprise found in a nest.

Sifting through under the guise of feeling tender petals, you grasp the soft, downy feather which bears a small post-it flag on the underside with a sequence of numbers on it. 

“Do you have any idea who?”

Balling it carefully in your fist just as quickly, you answer, “Couldn't tell ya. But the pop of red sure is pretty, isn't it?”

In your booth -set up with your sticker-laden laptop and butterflies in your stomach- you hold the sticky note in one hand, pinching the crimson feather precariously in the other. 

Face warmed and unbelieving of your luck, you think on what to send first to your mic-stealer…

To be continued?

[serverusslaype]

Shameless, pt. 3

snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

hey yall B) it's time for part 3.. i'm hoping i've done this chapter justice, though i am a little doubtful, only because this was sort of a filler chapter, it doesnt have muchhh plottt.... i just love the hateful/resentful relationship between the reader and snape at the moment, does that make me toxic lmao? :( </3

there is not much else to say, so i hope you enjoy this next part, honestly i have no idea how many parts there is going to be, i'm sort of writing it until i'm happy with what happens sort of thing.

anyway, it's lights out and away we goooo!! (if you get this reference i love u)

The chilly, biting air blew through you like a windstorm as you rushed to catch up with the strawberry-blonde author, the adrenaline that was pumping through you doing most of the work. Without a beat, you reached Lockhart, your hand colliding with his chest as you pushed him into a shadowed area; his back - once again - slamming against the wall with a thud.

A look of shock and complete, utter fear was spread on the Gilderoy's face as you pointed your wand in his sorry face. "As I was saying before, Lockhart," you growled, prodding the tip of your wand into his chest, "If you ever pull that shit again, I will not hesitate to have you removed from this school." You huffed, clenching your jaw. Gods, you could kill him, honestly! "What in the ever sweet-loving hell were you thinking? A student could have been harmed!" You hissed at the man, who had now composed himself. Honestly, you were holding back from hexing him. "Actually, Longbottom almost was!" You added, fire in your eyes.

"I'm sorry, truly, I am." Lockhart said guardedly, watching you with cautious eyes as you stepped back to give him some space. "It wasn't my intention, I promise you-"

"Incompetence is not tolerated at Hogwarts, Lockhart, believe me." You warned him, allowing yourself to calm down a little bit. You might've gotten a little carried away.

"Understandably." Lockhart replied, his eyes flicking between yours and your wand

"I'm glad we have an understanding." You said coldly and gestured for him to leave. If you looked at him again, you were worried you might lose your cool. You'd never gotten so angry with someone before, but placing students in harms way because of a stupid mistake truly pisses you off. It's shameful.

The crunch of Lockhart's boots against the ground faded out into the cold, bitter air as he scurried away. You stood still for a moment to gather yourself and your thoughts, running a stressed hand through your long hair.

"Feel better?" A sudden deep, husky voice came from behind you. You almost jumped out of your skin as you spun around to find Snape, equipped with an amused smirk on his white face as he relished in your fright.

"Bloody hell, Snape!" You scoffed, throwing a hand against your chest. Where did he come from, didn't he leave earlier? Was he following me? You wondered to yourself, a suspicious frown landing on your face. That familiar burning sensation began to creep up onto your cheeks and neck as you looked at him.

"For a Hufflepuff, you're certainly… fiery." The corner of his lips quirked upwards as he clasped his hands behind his back. You swallowed thickly as he stepped towards you, your heart beginning to pound again once more. "Perhaps the sorting hat made a grave mistake all those years ago." He added, articulating each word perfectly, tilting his head at you. You rolled your eyes at him, standing your ground. You refused to let him intimidate you again. You were equals now, and you wanted him to treat you like one. Snape's face twisted into a taunting sneer. "After witnessing your reckless yet, dare I say, impressive outburst, you would have made a fine Slytherin student."

"Oh, what an honour." You groaned sarcastically. What a backhanded… compliment? You weren't sure. Despite your confident facade, you could feel the walls you'd built crumbling as Snape leaned forwards at you, his lips curling into a face of disgust at your reply. "I am not selfish, nor arrogant. I would rather put others before myself." A rush of anxiety washed through you, like you'd just missed a step on the stairs.

"Ah yes, the most obvious downfall of Hufflepuffs. Selflessness." Snape smirked at you. He was clearly enjoying how easy it was to get under your skin and irritate you. Gods, he was driving you crazy, and you honestly didn't want to know whether it was the good or bad way.

Most definitely the latter, let's be serious here. "Ah yes, truly sorry that we also value people other than ourselves." You mocked the Potions Master, secretly desiring a reaction from him. Though, he didn't say anything, he only kept the smug smirk on his lips, his eyes narrowing at you as he studied you. It's like he knew what you wanted and he refused to give it to you.

The silence was deafening, and it was making you squirm underneath his nose. You hated the way he could command a moment perfectly.

"A brave little thing, aren't you?" Snape said. Little thing? Who did he think he was?

"Why did you follow me, Snape?" You questioned him, ignoring his demeaning insult. You were curious as to why he followed you, surely there were better things to do than pursue the Herbology professor. "I was merely curious as to why you took off at such speed." He answered matter-of-factly.

"Hm," You clenched your jaw, "and were you satisfied with your findings?" You asked tauntingly. Your breath hitched as he stepped towards you again, making you step backwards until your back hit the wall. Your chest was quite obviously heaving at this point, and you were doubtful it was to do with your frustration.

The wizard stared at you for a beat, observing your movements. "It doesn't bode well for you to be found reprimanding your colleagues, Professor L/N." Snape simply said, disregarding your previous question

"I believe you would think different, had you seen what I did, Snape." You replied with a frown. "Pixies were flying freely in his class, causing utter chaos and torment to the students- I mean, they'd hung Longbottom by the hood of his cloak on the chandelier!"

"Lockhart will not last here, we both know that, L/N." Snape declared, leaning back slightly, as if to back off from you. The hostility in him was still present, though. "As for Longbottom, I'm not surprised. That boy is always finding himself in perilous situations." He added, glancing to the right momentarily with a look of disgust. He looked back at you, sending your heart into a rapid beat once more. "I suggest you keep your nose out of things that don't concern you."

"Lockhart came to me." You laughed dryly, offended that he'd assumed you were drawn to the drama. "He came to me for help."

"Poor choice, clearly." Snape sneered. You opened your mouth to bite back at him. "However, possibly a smart move. Choosing the faculty fledgling. Easy to use. Though, evidently, Lockhart did not possess the foresight to see that it would backfire on him. He clearly misjudged your… spunky character." He continued, making you snort. He cocked a questioning brow at the noise. "Do not mistake me, I did take pleasure in watching you admonish that blundering fool."

You were shocked to say the least, to actually hear something positive fall from Snape's lips. Did he really just say that? You stood there, dumbfounded, staring up at him.

"You look startled, Professor L/N," The Potions Master smirked down at you. Understandably, you were speechless. "Is it such a foreign concept for you to hear me speak well of you?"

"I'm astounded that you're surprised by that. It's a rare occasion that you dish out positive feedback, let alone compliments. I thought you were more self-aware than this, Snape." You said, feigning confusion. Snape's smugness was soon wiped clean as another more familiar facial expression of his took residence upon his features - a stone-cold glare

You couldn't help the tiny smile that tugged at the corners of your lips, an unusual warmth blooming in your stomach. Yes, you were truly taking pride in successfully insulting Severus Snape - at this point, who wouldn't?

"Touché." Snape glared at you. Another moment of silence passed through you and Snape as you stared each other down. It was weirdly intimate, again. The two of you seemed to be forming a habit of this.

Snape was the first to break. You gasped softly as the Potions Master swiftly swept away from you, his cloak billowing out behind him like a wave that refused to break. You've come to understand that goodbyes are not in Snape's vocabulary.

Watching him walk down the hallway, you presumed to his quarters, you let your head fall back against the wall behind you. A quiet sigh of relief fell from your lips. You weren't sure how long you could keep up this hateful mask to hide your blooming affection for him. It was easier to pretend that you hated him, even though he sometimes did nearly push you to that extreme.

A week or so went by without another close encounter with Snape, and you were surprisingly content with that fact. It gave you time to process everything and most importantly - settle into your new position as the Herbology professor. You'd partially seen him in the Great Hall for breakfast, lunch and dinner, or whilst walking in the hallways but you never evoked a conversation with him. You acknowledged him with a polite nod, but that was it.

After that unorthodox interaction with him in the hallway that night, the hostility had simmered down between you two. Sure, he was bound to say something tongue-in-cheek soon enough, but you'd avoided him because of that risk, and also to do with the fact that your crush on him was truly growing out of your control. You were just hoping he didn't notice.

Today was a Saturday, and it was around ten o'clock or so in the morning. Since you had no classes today, you thought you'd complete an inventory check, to replace and monitor the levels of herbs and other plant bits and bobs you had. You'd just finished four classes worth of grading after starting at eight o'clock, so you were craving something practical, really. The constant repetitiveness of reading the same thing over and over again almost sent you into an eternal slumber. No Wiggenweld or Wideye potion could have saved you.

As you dug through your cabinets in your greenhouse, you noticed some things were missing. "Huh." You muttered to yourself, sitting back on your haunches, observing the storage unit. You leaned forwards and rummaged through it again, assuming you'd miscounted.

No, you weren't wrong. Things were missing.

Billywig stings, Chinese chomping cabbage, dandelion roots, dittany… Your nose scrunched up in slight annoyance as your mind immediately thought of Snape. McGonagall did mention at the beginning of the year that he might snoop through your cabinets and take some ingredients for his Potions classes. You just didn't expect him to take this much.

Luckily for him, you were in a pleasant mood, so you weren't inclined to scold him for stealing from you, but rather just have a word. Not that he'd care if you did choose to berate him.

You sighed as you stood up from kneeling, your hands brushing off your now dusty skirt. Off you go, to the damp and dingy dungeons - not particularly one of your favourite places at Hogwarts. The weather had really changed over the past few days, it was now nearing the end of September, and so the rain and clouds had really started to take hold. As of right now, it was quite dark and dingy outside, the clouds almost black, like a warning to stay inside. You groaned at the depressing sight. Spring was your favourite season of the year, of course, being a Herbologist.

Quickly scurrying out of your greenhouse, across the outside courtyards and towards an entrance to the castle, your hand rose up to protect your head as a drizzle of rain started to fall. Reluctantly making your way to where Professor Snape resided, a rush of anxiety and butterflies stirred in your stomach. Was this a bad idea? Probably. Were you going to turn back? Possibly.

As you neared the spiral staircase down to the dungeons, a sick feeling gathered within you. Almost like a gut feeling. Perhaps this was a bad idea. You stopped in your tracks for a moment, torn between the desire of running away back to your greenhouse, pretending like you had no clue that Snape had been in your greenhouse and taken some things, and the desire of giving him a piece of your mind, respectfully, of course.

You shook your head to yourself, as if to rid your mind of your doubts, and so you carried on downwards, the smell of damp earth and what seemed to be decaying stone, interwoven with fresh moss. It wasn't too pleasant, but it was bearable, and it reeled you back to your time at Hogwarts when you used to travel down here for your Potions classes with none other than the brooding Professor Snape himself.

Your nose scrunched up as you thought back to the amount of times he had berated you in class for messing up such simple instructions, but you just weren't cut out to be a potioneer; Herbology was your calling.

You hesitated on the last step of the stairs, suddenly regretting your idea of paying the Bat a visit. Fuck it, you thought. You needed to establish some sort of boundaries.

A voice pulled you from your thoughts as you halted your body.

"Professor L/N," Snape's recognisable deep baritone rang out in the dark, gloomy hallway of the dungeons. His tone was almost questioning. It was a given, considering you were not a common passer-by in the dungeons. Thinking about it, this was probably your first time down here in a long time. His lips just uttering your name sent a chill down your spine. You cursed yourself for that. You had to squint slightly to spot his tall, broad and black figure in the shadows, partially illuminated by the torchlights hung against the walls.

"Professor Snape," You greeted back awkwardly. He stood straight, face adorned with his usual cold stare, one hand falling from the knob of his classroom door and moving to clasp his other behind his back. He was clearly waiting for you to explain your reasoning as to why you were down here, but you were sure he had inkling as to why. He wasn't stupid. "Erm." Your mind went blank. This was fucking embarrassing.

You glanced up at Snape, watching him tilt his head at you. He was silent. He was obviously enjoying your squirming as you tried to think of something to say to him.

"I've noticed some things missing from my cabinets." You finally said, trying to push aside the waves of embarrassment that were currently flooding your body. "I'm presuming it's you taking the ingredients?" You questioned quietly, avoiding the risk of conflict with Snape again. As much as it's fun to push his buttons, you did not have the energy this morning.

"Good observation." Snape said blankly, stalking towards you slowly. You felt your heart pick up in speed as another rush of anxiety ran through you.

"I appreciate the fact that you need them for your lessons, but I'd also appreciate the fact if you'd at least tell me." You said politely, desperate to keep the conversation calm and somewhat civil, watching nervously as he walked closer to you. You forgot how intimidating he could be when you weren't fueled by adrenaline and rage.

Snape cocked a brow at you, his eyes narrowing a tad as he studied your face. Your eyes were partially widened, lips parted to some degree. It was a very drastic change from the angry one he'd witnessed in the hallway.

"Would you like me to leave you a poem, and a cookie, too?" Snape teased you with a haughty look, purposefully provoking you. A quiet sigh slipped your lips as you rolled your eyes. That familiar mixture of irritation and lust rushed through your body.

"And here I thought we could have a civil conversation." You said bitterly, looking up into his dark, almost black eyes. Your cheeks burned hotter as you stared up at him. Snape was silent for a moment as he watched you. There was that rage again, bubbling inside you.

"How foolish of you." He simply said, that common amused smirk tugging at his lips. You felt your fists ball again, your nails digging painfully into your palms. This was a mistake for sure, you were in such a good mood today, and one visit to Snape had unravelled that. Gods, he was such an ass.

"Clearly." You bit back, venom sizzling in your voice. Snape's brow quirked at your tone, his eyes flicking between yours, as if trying to read your thoughts.

"If you have come to lecture me on my habits, Professor L/N, then you have come in vain." Snape said, looking down at you, observing your restless movements.

"Why? Too far up your own ass to accommodate other people's wishes?" You challenged him, though, you slightly regretted your choice of words almost immediately. Sometimes, you wondered how this man made you lose your temper and the leash on your tongue so easily.

"You are way out of your depth here, L/N." Snape warned you, his voice darkening.

Yeah, you were fully aware of that. Though, being the stubborn person you were, you refused to back down from Snape. This also seemed to be becoming a habit.

"Perhaps," you noted, quirking your lip, "or am I just making a good observation?" The rush of adrenaline pumped through you again, prompting your brave and daring words. You did not want to make an enemy out of Snape, but his rude and unnecessary comments were starting to grate against your patience. A beat of silence passed over the two of you before he spoke again.

"Will that be all, Professor L/N?" Snape glared at you, his patience wearing thin with you. The wizard's voice was harsh, almost biting. Maybe you really did piss him off this time. As much as you wanted to continue throwing insults at him to satisfy your own selfish needs, you should really take this moment to leave. Avoid making things worse, no?

"In truth, no," You shook your head at him, prompting a roll of his eyes. You clenched your jaw at his reaction. "I'd like it if you did actually leave a note or something along those lines to let me know what you've taken and used." You said calmly, trying to avoid another bout of conflict with Snape. The two of you seemed to butt heads constantly, probably due to your rather obvious differences.

"Yes, yes. I'll be sure to do that the next time I require your herbs or plants." Snape replied curtly, seemingly a little tired of this conversation.

Your face quickly twisted into a contortion of shock and confusion.

"…Okay… thank you?" You stumbled, frowning suspiciously at him. So, he just accepts your demand? Like that? Is this what it's like to be treated as an equal? Whatever you could get, you were going to take it. Just bite the bullet and leave, you thought. This was it.

Or was this some sort of mind-fuck?

"Do not thank me." Snape scoffed, his hands still clasped behind his back menacingly. Ah, no, there it was, you thought. 'Thank you' did not exist in his vocabulary either, then?

"So close, yet so far." You muttered amusedly, tilting your head at Snape curiously. You waited for another glare from him for being a smart-arse, but instead, Snape's lips quirked up into a smirk - an amused one at that.

It was a weird interaction. But with Snape, things were going to be weird; he wasn't a normal person. You'd be beating a dead horse if you wanted him to act like an average human being.

In secret, over the past few encounters with you, he'd grown respect to you - albeit a little - but it was enough. Satisfactory. In regards to the tongue-in-cheek, bordering offensive comments that fell from his lips, he only tended to push your buttons because you made it so easy for him, he found it rather entertaining to get under your skin and irritate you. In fact, it was highly amusing to him. For all his time at Hogwarts, it was refreshing to have someone that could keep up with his remarks and keep him on his toes, however annoying you may become. Although, he would never admit that to you… unless poisoned with Veritaserum.

"I have some grading to do." Snape announced, breaking the silence and your train of thought, continuing to stare down at you, inferring that he was indeed leaving now. You swallowed, nodding. The air surrounding you two was… weird, you couldn't put your finger on it. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it also wasn't comfortable.

"Likewise, Snape."

"Severus," he corrected you, narrowing his eyes, "you may call me Severus. We are, after all… colleagues now." Severus said, hesitating like he was almost inclined to say equals. You felt your heart leap into your mouth at the correction and you blinked quickly, a little taken aback at how he had suddenly changed. It was like you'd finally broken through his first defences and possibly earned some sort of respect. Perhaps he was testing you those past times, seeing how far you'd go, seeing if you'd break down and leave Hogwarts because of his relentless and cruel remarks. Nonetheless, you persevered through it and came out on top, despite the probable heightened blood pressure caused by the frustration and stress he gave you.

Still speechless from what he'd said, you stared up at him with big, wide eyes. "I suppose you may call me Y/N." You said quietly, your cheeks beginning to tint pink again from the intense gaze the two of you were holding. There it is, you inwardly groaned as your body betrayed you in front of Severus once again. At this point, there was more chance of you becoming the Minister of Magic than hiding your feelings. It was only going to get worse, you thought helplessly.

Severus tilted his head at you for a moment, observing you before swiftly turning around with a dramatic twirl of his cloak and floating into his office, the door shutting behind him with a heavy thud.

What a start to the year this has been…

ok so there's part 3, i'm not quite sure if i like how it ended, but i'll keep it for now. i do like the part where they exchange first names, sort of like the first bit of them tolerating each other B)

-> next on the agenda, the dueling club scene because that is just too good not to include omg. might change it up a bit tho.. we shall see!

this was lowkey an unintentional enemies to lovers fic i wont lie lmfao

once again thank you for reading, if you enjoyed it please let me know!! 🩷

part 4

taglist:

@a-laufeyson

@emilynissangtr

@livillain00

@meowskii

@nooneeveryonenoone

[acceptme33]

Top 5 transformers?

Heres mine (ps: chose designs I fw the most)

1. arcee

ever since I was a wee child the only transformers toys I got were arcee and it was only one. My parents gave most to my twin brother this is of course because I was a girl he was a boy HOWEVER nothing can take away the shared love we have for transformers.

So as you can guess arcee holds a special place in my heart for not only being the reason I had a toy in the first place as a child but also the gateway I had to transformers. She opened the gate and I have injected transformers into my veins ever since. (Love her in any continuity)

2. Megatron

i was low-key scared of this guy as a child but as I've grown and learned more about bro's backstory the more I kinda liked him to now being one of my favorites. I also like villains and he's cool! I could go on and on but you get the gist.

3. Overlord

as I said I think I like bad guys too much. Kinda wish we got a lot more of him (an idw arcee and overlord interaction would have gone crazy especially before she killed jhiaxus....fix idea?) he was just so evil and cool! I really wish we got more of him and more wreckers on the team at that arcee would probably have gotten bodied but she has plot armor and I think she could do it (insane coping here). Anyway he could have done so much more if he only had time.

4. Prowl

..... noticing a pattern yet? I low key shipped him and arcee until comic events smooshed that....but no more arcee talk.

He was so complicated....i felt bad for him yet also hated him? Like he's an ass but war....and I can get his actions but I just feel like he could have gone about it better it's just so sad to me seeing how his character is and why he does the things he does....tbh prowl is a pretty tragic character that you can understand but also hate at the same time but if megatron could get redemption I'm sure he could too with enough work.

5.nautica

She's so pretty and nerdy it was a crime what they did to Nautica and skids 😔 justice NOW.