#still disappointed that i didn't know about this game until it was canned

[viaisms]

twenty questions

summary: penelope accidentally mentions that someone has a crush on you, she can't say who it is but you make it into a game so she can :) warnings: spencer reid x bau!reader, gn reader, mentions of drinking wine, pg-13 language, talk of bugs?? its a nickname,,, lots of use of pet names lol, fluff, no mention of y/n yeehaw, pining, you're completely oblivious about how much spencer wants you, not proofread </3 authors note: first fic!! i haven't officially written a fic in. gosh, years?? since the pandemmy :( i really want to get back into writing, so have this little blurb that i thought of! by all means i am here for any constructive criticism you may have<3 wc: 2.7k

The clatter of fingertips tapping against a keyboard filled the dimly lit BAU office. You sit at your desk, eyes fixed on the glowing screen as you scroll through reports, cross-referencing case files and taking notes. The quiet hum of the building has long since settled into a lull; you barely realize how deeply you've fallen into your work,

The distant ticking of a clock finally breaks your trance, but it wasn't until you feel the hairs arise on the back of your neck that you become fully aware. You slowly blink with a quiet groan, glancing at the time at the bottom of your screen.

10:58 PM. Shit.

You align your fingertips atop of your keyboard, the soft clatter filling the office once more before you hear the all-too familiar voice.

"Babes, what are you still doing here?!"

You turn and see nobody else but Garcia, finally emitting from her bat-cave. Her arms cross against her chest, a disappointed hum coming from her pressed lips. "You, my love, should be at home in a nice hot bath with a glass of wine."

Your lips splay a lazy smirk as you lean back in your chair, stretching your body with a quiet groan. "I was just about to wrap up, Pen, I promise..." You assure your colleague, feeling the strain of staring at a screen all day every time that you blink.

"Good deal my beautiful bug," Penelope chirps as her arms drop to her side. She's just as tired as you are, having spent all of her day digging through databases to find information on a potential UnSub. Her heals click as she goes to turn away, walking back towards her office.

"You know, you have to get your beauty sleep for your lover boy in the mor..." Her once confident words grow timid as she begins to trail off.

Penelope's breath catches in her throat as she realizes the words that so effortlessly flew off her tongue, her blood running cold at her grave error. Spencer is going to kill her.

"My what?" Your eyes narrow, scoffing in a confused manner.

She stills, yet she doesn't turn to you.

"Nothing! I... I didn't say anything..." She mutters with a nervous stammer of your name, the rhythmic clicking of her heels continuing as she speeds to her office.

You stand, the wheels of your office chair sliding out from under you as you feel a weakness in both of your legs. You stretch once more, trying to think of when the last time you even stood was.

"Penelope Grace Garcia!"

Her hand is resting on the cold, slick material of the doorknob that has the potential to separate her from this deep abyss that she just dug herself into. Instead, she stills for another moment before turning to you once more.

Penelope has to think of a lie, and quick.

"Obviously... I was talking about Morgan!"

There is a reason why she does what she does for a living, and is rarely out on the field with the rest of the crew unless her technical skills are needed.

Your eyes squint with a tentative hum. You don't believe Garcia, not for a second.

"You do know I'm a profiler..." A grumble of amusement comes from your chest at Penelope's attempt.

"Right..." She murmurs, her voice quiet as she breaks your gaze. She's mentally kicking herself for blabbing, such a rookie mistake in the game of workplace gossip.

Your eyebrows raise as you await Garcia's confession. However, she stays strong, not uttering another peep from her velvet-painted lips.

"So...?" You sing after a beat of silence, stars of hope glistening in the pools of your eyes.

With a whine, Penelope's shoulders drop.

"Look... I love you, sweetness, I do..." Her lips droop into a frown. Penelope's eyes greet your own somberly with a shake of her own head. "But I promised I wouldn't tell..."

You feel a weight of disappointment on your chest, and with a sigh, you decide to drop it. Penelope sees the way the sparkle in your eye begins to dim, eliciting a whine from her barely audible to your own ears.

"But!" She chirps, trying to share some of her own light with you. Penelope shouldn't be doing this, and she knows it. However, she is far too nurturing to let a beautiful smile like yours falter for even a second. "If you guess it... it's not technically me telling you, right?"

"You know? I like the way your mind thinks," You hum, reveling in the fact that you got your way. "Twenty questions?" The cold sensation of the faux-leather hits you as you sit back in your chair.

The corner of Penelope's lips twitch upwards as a combination of guilt and excitement course through her veins. "You know I love a good game, hit me..." She murmurs, her voice self-assured as she pulls a chair from a nearby desk, her legs crossing as she sits next to you.

"Okay..." You mutter with a shaky sigh. The pounding of your heart fills your entire body, your stomach slightly cramping with nerves. "Is it someone I know?"

"Uh, duh?"

Your eyes flutter shut, raking through potential victims that fell for whatever love trap you didn't even intent on setting. "Male or female?"

"Acht! That's not part of the rules my curious friend and you know it," Her dark eyes narrow as she playfully scolds her colleague. "I'm totally counting it though, eighteen more questions..."

With pressed lips, you weigh out the obvious individuals who are least likely to be a contender. Penelope sees how deep you are in thought, and she can't help herself but quietly scoff.

How can you not know it's Spencer? She thinks to herself. Everyone around the office sees it -- everyone but you, apparently. As you think, her mind wanders to about two months prior, where Spencer came to her for love advice. Penelope, being herself, already knew he was fawning over you. She picked up on it the moment the genius somehow grew more awkward every time he were to speak to you.

However, also being herself, she refused to give him any sound advice until he spilled who the lucky contender was; which just so happened to be you.

The sound of your voice pulls her out of her own mind.

"Do I see them often?"

The corners of her lips prop upwards, almost tauntingly. "Very," she affirms.

Someone you see very often... you mentally walk through your day-to-day routine, retracing every step no matter how minuscule. You awake every morning to nobody in your apartment but your cat, besides the occasional sleepover with a friend every now and again. You ready yourself for work alone, your first stop in the morning being the local coffee shop down the street...

"Ooh! Is it someone from the coffee shop?" You chirp, your heart beginning to race at the idea of an unspoken stranger admiring your beauty from afar. Individuals you see there on a day-to-day basis flood your mind, although it completely falls empty for the exception of one person; a barista behind the counter, roughly your age who is not bad looking in the slightest.

"That would be a negative..." Her red-painted lips press together, a slight pang of disappointment hitting you in the gut that it wasn't the barista.

"Darn..." You tut, your mind trying to silently place the pieces of the puzzle together. Someone you know, someone you see often, not someone from the coffee shop...

Penelope can't believe how oblivious you are. How do you not pick up on the fact that Spencer follows you around the office like a lost puppy? Or the fact that when the two of you are on the field together, he insists you go with him or vice versa because he feels the need to protect you?

"No way that it's a colleague?" Your brows stitch together, your head slanting as you throw the inconceivable idea into the open.

Penelope's head slightly tilts downwards as she gazes at you through the top of her frames. She flashes you a sly, almost flirtatious grin at your not-so-far-fetched theory.

"And if it is?"

The feeling of your heart hammering in your heart is felt throughout your entire body, your cheeks warming as you feel blood rush to your brain.

"Who?!" You exclaim, completely forgoing the rules to the game. This narrows your options to about seven. Your hands fumble with the cotton on the hem of your shirt as you narrow your options down even further, a shuttering breath falling from your lips.

"How do you not know?!" Penelope is quick to match your energy, an actual pain shooting through her chest at your own naivety. Her brows raise as her eyes widen, her fists balling as she folds herself back from blurting it out.

Your lips part as you're about to exclaim something quick and witty back to your colleague when it hits you. Like a fish gulping for water, you feel the soft skin of your lips quickly snap shut.

The memories hit you all at once: the mornings you're in a rush and you forget your coffee - Reid excusing himself for a moment with a muttered excuse before returning with it minutes later, the nights you return home from a case and he offers to spend time with you because it pains you being alone after what you saw, the countless facts he will ramble to you on the plane because damn it, you're the only one that actually listens to him.

"Oh my god, Reid?" Your jaw drops as you gasp, your arms numbing as your nerves shoot past the roof and to the stratosphere.

With a relieved sigh, Penelope's palms slap against her thighs, planting her leg down onto the floor with her other one. "Finally!" She groans, almost feeling a sense of comfort that you know and the weird tension around the office while the two are around would soon come to an end.

"Since when?!" Your heart ticks against your chest so hard that you can hear it in your ears. Never in a million years would you assume it would be Spencer that would be silently pining over you. Reid?!

"Since like... forever, buttercup!" Penelope giggles. She can see the dots being connected in the pretty little brain of yours, and god, she loves it. Her voice softens, a warm, almost maternal intent behind them. "We really should be getting home..." She groans, her gaze flicking to the clock on the wall. "Since you two are totes madly in love already, let me know when one of you decides to make the move, okay?"

With a roll of your eyes, the back of your hand ever so gently strikes the side of Garcia's arm. She notices the way blush speckles across your face, a knowing grin playing against her own. You can't ignore the way your chest fuzzes over at the thought of Spencer feeling about you the way you feel about him, it makes your stomach ache with desire; you don't know if you love or hate the sensation.

"Goodnight, Garcia..." A mix between a chuckle and a sigh of contentment is emitted from you. She mumbles a quick 'good night' with a quick, playful wink before standing from her chair, returning it to its original home.

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

The next morning you're in a hurry to get to work, oversleeping by a long shot as it took you forever to wind down last night due to your wandering thoughts.

You get to your desk with merely minutes to spare, a tired, overwhelmed groan falling from your lips as you place your bag in your desk and splay your jacket against the back of your chair.

"Long night last night, agent?"

You don't even have to look up to know who it is... your body freezes for a moment, not sure if you're prepared to deal with this; not yet, anyways.

With a soft sigh, your gaze is lifted and immediately greeted with Spencer's. His large, curious and caring stare. His hazel eyes almost bare into your own, causing a tingle to run down your spine. You try to ignore the butterflies that patter within the walls of your stomach, yet they're hard to confine.

"Yeah... I'm fine, Reid," You nod, your lips tentatively pressing together. "Just didn't sleep worth the damn last night... just... thinking about the case..." You trail, the sound of your voice growing softer and quieter like a beautiful decrescendo.

His lips part for just a moment, an inaudible 'ah' coming from him before giving you an understanding nod.

"I figured... Garcia told me you were here late last night and I kind of... presumed this may happen," He muses with an awkward chuckle. "Which is why... I brought you this..."

Reid's tall frame trails away from your desk for a moment, which draws out a soft hum from you as you tap your fingertips against the smooth, cool material of your desk.

His long stride is quick to return, your heart almost leaping out of your throat as he sees what's within his long, slender fingers.

Your favorite coffee.

You accept the gesture, your stomach doing flips as you take the cup within the confines of your own grasp. You mumble something quick and playful, telling Spencer that he is your favorite person in the world right now for such a small action.

The feeling of someone else watching you is burned into the back of your skull, a sensation churning in your gut that you can't shake. Your gaze flicks over to the side, in which you're immediately greeted by Garcia.

She not-so-subtly flashes two thumbs up at you, her nails painted a shade of dark purple. "Go get 'em!" She mouths in approval, your gaze quickly turning over to the male in front of you in attempt to hide Penelope's matchmaking attempt.

"Hey... do you um... maybe want to get coffee at this place together sometime?" You attempt to thickly swallow down your nerves, trying to soothe the heartbeat creeping out of your chest.

Spencer is silent a moment, his lips twitching upwards in a sign of approval at your suggestion. You see the thoughts shifting through his mind, the rates of his blinks increasing in a sense of disbelief that you're actually asking him this.

"I-- um... yeah! Let's do tomorrow before work? If... you're okay getting up that early, if not we can totally do a different time, perhaps--"

"Tomorrow it is..." You cut him off, something you rarely do. He nods in agreement, a quiet 'tomorrow' mumbled from his lips as he attempts to conceal his excitement.

You’re not sure how to shake off the butterflies in your stomach, but Spencer’s shy smile is enough to make you feel warm all over. You take a sip of your coffee, letting the moment linger. Before you can say anything else, Garcia’s voice breaks through your thoughts, louder than life.

"You two better not cancel on me! I want details!" she teases from across the room, flashing a mischievous grin your way. You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the chuckle that escapes your lips.

Spencer, now fully aware of the matchmaker’s antics, lets out a soft laugh, running a hand through his hair, looking even more flustered than before.

You meet his gaze again, a new kind of tension settling between you—a mix of nerves, excitement, and something deeper that you’re not ready to name just yet. You take a breath, feeling that the next chapter of whatever this is has already started, and it’s thrilling.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you murmur, unable to stop the grin that’s threatening to split your face. Spencer nods, his smile small but genuine, as he turns to head to his desk.

As he walks away, you catch a glimpse of Garcia again, this time with an exaggerated wink. You shake your head, but you can’t suppress the warmth blooming in your chest. Tomorrow’s going to be interesting, to say the least.

And maybe... just maybe, things are finally falling into place.

[escapistsatellite]

Transformers Designs: Prime vs Universe

I just find these interesting.

[katescorner]

thinking about olympic athlete!oikawa tooru today who made it to the paris olympics, representing argentina (proudly, he might add), and his whole story leading up to the games is full of drama and expectations because of course fate would line things up perfectly for the two nations he held in his heart to rival each other on the world's court.

he hears the cheers of fans and friends along with the jeering boos from the locker room, and he thinks, has he really betrayed his birth country when "home" no longer feels like home? with rising pressure, competition tastes like a bitter word when the opposition is all familiar faces. but he didn't make it this far by being sentimental. he trained for this. he sacrificed for this. he—

"the world is watching, tooru."

your voice is soft, but it cuts through the static of his thoughts. it parts his negativity with gentle movement until all he sees is you, and suddenly, he can breathe again. so he does. he draws in a long, deep breath, and you wait for him to speak to you.

"i'm scared," he whispers. "i don't want to disappoint anyone."

his admission is proof alone of how far he's come already, willing to admit insecurity and allowing vulnerability in difficult moments. oikawa tooru is not the same man he was when he left the land he'd known all his life (leaving claw marks into the grass and ground of his hometown; they forget he was only eighteen when he uprooted himself in the name of his passion) and when he let his mother tongue fall flat so he might have a chance at becoming the best (people forget that learning languages isn't some indirect relationship, when one rises, the other does not always fall; he remembers the words he came from, the intonation and the vocabulary, the slang and the meaning of it all; he remembers, still).

oikawa tooru is not the same man he was when his childhood friends saw him last. he's grown in his time apart from them; they all have. he's miles tallers and his horizons have expanded. he's changed, but that doesn't mean he's a stranger to himself.

(i'm scared they won't recognize me.)

"you are still the person they all befriended and the man i fell in love with, and i am so so proud of you," you answer his underlying question with a kiss to his cheek, a reminder of your love. "you aren't disappointing anyone with your decisions."

"but the people of—"

"the people will cope. they'll have to." you shrug. "what else can they do? what you do isn't up to them. it isn't up to the public because the roster that made it all this way and achieved this much lists oikawa tooru, starting setter, not the guy in the eighth row calling you names, not the displeased broadcaster with a combover, and certainly not anyone else."

you take his hands into yours. you're careful because these are the instruments of his success. his fingernails are always cut short and his skin is soft except for the pads of his fingers which are rough but not calloused. he doesn't let anyone else handle him the way you do, drawing circles and hearts into his palms and pressing kisses into his joints.

"as long as you are happy with the decisions you've made to get here, no one can take that away from you." you look into your fiancé's eyes. "are you happy, tooru?"

and he thinks about the uneasiness he felt landing in argentina, the finality in not buying a return ticket, and the eagerness for volleyball that earned him an easy spot under the guidance of jose blanco. he thinks about the sleep that he lost from being hungry in an unfamiliar country, missing his mother's cooking and the smell of yakitori and takoyaki when he walked down crowded streets filled with vendors.

but he also thinks about the first word that he learned in argentina, hermanito, tossed around during practice when he didn't even know how to ask for a pass because he didn't lose a brotherhood when he left japan, he just gained one in argentina. he thinks about the grueling process of overturning his birth citizenship, the uproar he caused in a country across the globe and the apology he almost let slip for it because everyone thinks it was just for volleyball. oikawa tooru, the athlete who doesn't know loyalty, but what do they know of the open arms he received in argentina when japan turned him away?

he thinks of how stress melted from him that first night after receiving his new passport, walking to your shared apartment with his stomach grumbling at the smell of choripán and alfajor as he hummed along to lamento boliviano. he thinks of how joy spilled into him, realizing he was finally home.

so he nods at your question and he draws stuttered hearts into your palms and he presses a kiss to your temple.

(thank you for seeing who i am.)

"i'm happy."

[aidaronan]

The years go by. The retail jobs that Steve thinks are temporary keep piling up, but he has no idea what else to do with his life so he just keeps on keeping on.

Until a large tree falls on the lawn of the little house he managed to buy and he gets the quote on removal and the number literally hurts his soul.

He buys a small chainsaw instead. Over the course of a few weeks, he gets most of the branches cut up. He collects some large rocks from down by the quarry and digs out a fire pit in his backyard. On his days off, his friends come over and they sit out back and have a few beers. The pile of wood dwindles. The giant trunk is another story though. His chainsaw isn't big enough for it. Burning it would take forever, and Steve's terrified he'd disappoint Smoky the Bear. He's at a loss.

Until he sees another giant trunk in someone's yard carved into a bear.

He knows what to do then. Not a bear, but something else. Through trial and error, the trunk becomes the rough shape of a woman, the remnants of the branches like a crown on her head. It's not as amazing as the bear he saw, but it's his. He finds he loves the smell of sawdust and the feeling of creating something.

Just like that, Steve realizes what he wants to do. It takes several months and a lot of yard sales, but he scrounges up the tools he needs to start woodworking. He learns to measure twice and cut once. He makes tables and chairs and carves them with art and designs that get better and better the more he learns. Shockingly, people actually buy his pieces.

Even more shocking comes the realization that he's making enough money to do it full time. He puts in his two weeks notice at Melvald's and hands in his assistant manager badge.

He's not sure he's happy, but he is content. It feels good to work hard and actually have things to show for it. It also feels good to work muscles he hasn't used since high school. He carries on for a few years like that, creating and learning and creating some more. Then Eddie Munson blows back into town. Invited back so Hawkins can have their most famous alumnus sing the national anthem at homecoming. Steve's honestly surprised he shows at all. "Can't believe you didn't tell them kiss your hairy ass," Steve says. Because of course Eddie ends up around his fire pit, sipping on Steve's cheap beer like he doesn't have three Grammy awards on his mantel. The years fall away with each drink, reminding Steve of just how much it had hurt when Eddie left. He'd wanted Eddie so bad back then, more than he'd ever wanted anyone. He can feel the echoes of that deep ache across time.

"Pfft. Don't you know all famous people wax our asses now? All the rage in LA." Eddie cuts a look at him and smirks when Steve rolls his eyes, grateful for the lighthearted moment to snap him out of his maudlin nostalgia. "Really though I thought about it, but then I thought it would be way funnier to donate a metric fuckton of money to Hawkins High with the stipulation that it go to the theater and band programs. Kind of bummed they couldn't honor my other request though."

"Which was?"

"My old Hellfire throne. I miss her, but apparently she's not around anymore. Something about water damage."

"Oh yeah. Water main busted a few years back and flooded the theater. I remember that." "Yeah. Had to settle for the promise they'd make a game lounge and stock it with all the supplies a budding young nerd needs."

"That's really nice, Eds."

Eddie shrugs. "I've been known to be nice on occasion. You'll come to homecoming, right? Moral support?"

Steve hasn't been to homecoming in years because he sees the other people who stayed in town all the time, and he has no interest in seeing the people who didn't. He can only answer the same questions so many times. Oh, I'm doing woodwork now. Yep, I still live right here. Nope, still not married, no kids.

He goes though, and he answers the uncomfortable questions. Because Eddie asked him to. Because no matter how long it's been, Steve can't deny that some part of him still...

He says goodbye after, and Eddie leaves again, and Steve tries not to think about that too much in the following days.

He's halfway into the project before he realizes what he's building. He'd seen Eddie's throne quite a few times back when. What he doesn't have memories of, he makes up. He adds his own touches too, making it a throne fit for a rock star, a nerd, a friend.

He carves ornate patterns, he creates scenes of dragons being beaten back by a man with a guitar, crowds of people that could be knights or concertgoers.

It's his favorite piece he's ever done, and his hands are shaking when he dials Eddie's number. He gets an answering machine and stumbles through a message.

"I made you something. I guess it's kind of silly, but it's here in Hawkins if you want it. Or I'm sure you can afford the shipping if you don't want to come. Just, I made you a chair. It's more of a... Well, you'll see. Unless you don't want to... It's Steve by the way." He hangs up before he can embarrass himself even more.

Eddie doesn't call him back. One day passes and then another. Steve tries not to let it get to him. He works on orders and new projects. He enjoys his little backyard oasis. He rents a few movies and thinks they're okay.

He's debarking some wood in his driveway when the rental car pulls up, Eddie stepping out in ripped jeans and an old Metallica tee. "Hi again, Stevie."

"Oh." Steve clears his throat. "The thing's in the garage. I'll..."

Eddie doesn't say anything for a long time, circling the throne, running his tattooed fingers over each little detail.

"You made this whole thing?"

"I did."

"For me?" Eddie looks at him then, one hand still touching the wood like he doesn't want to let go. Even under the harsh lights of the garage, his eyes are such a warm shade of brown that Steve forgets to breathe.

He nods. "For you."

"Why?"

There are a hundred answers Steve could give, but he spent so long not knowing who he was or who he wanted to be. Too long. "Because you'll always be the one that got away. Because some part of me will always want to make you smile no matter how long it's been."

Eddie falls into the throne like he just got the wind knocked out of him.

"You don't have to respond to that," Steve says. "You can just say thank you and take the chair."

"I can." Eddie blows out a breath. "But that would be incredibly stupid considering half my early ballads are about you."

"What?" Unfair. Steve doesn't have a chair to fall into.

"Oh sure, I changed the hes to shes for a while there because..." Eddie waves his hand. "But they're about you, Steve. God, I should've asked you out. I just thought..."

Hearing those words is a lot like seeing that carved bear all over again, something clicking into place that wasn't quite right before.

"Go out with me now then," Steve says. "Or stay in. I've got a frozen lasagna and I rented Contact."

"Steve Harrington? Asking Eddie 'the Freak' Munson on a date? Did hell freeze over?"

"Pfft." Steve takes a step closer toward what he wants most. "Hell froze over in 1986, Eddie. You were there."

Five months and a lot of long distance phone bills later, Steve opens Harrington Woodworking in Los Angeles. That same day, Eddie takes photos for Rolling Stone posing in an ornate throne in his living room. He tells the reporter exactly who made it and what he means. At concerts, he starts singing those ballads the way he always wanted to. More often than not, Steve stands in the wings singing along.

[goldfades]

★ BREAK THE BED (LITERALLY) ─── CC²²

❪ requested -> "Can I pleaseeee get a fic where cc actually breaks the bed?? I just know her strap game in rough after a loss" ❫

─ warnings | nsfw under the cut, read at ur own discretion. kinda angsty but not rly???? just very angry cait (for the most part), mention of the media being mean, STRAP!!!!!!!!!!!! degradation with a sprinkle of praise, the bed actually breaking lol (who woulda thought?), it ends in a funny way and aftercare with so much cuteness u might die!!!!

─ ev's notes | kinda word vomit but this concept makes me go feral!!!!!!!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

the entire night, caitlin had gotten absolutely dogged on. the game had been brutal, not just physically but emotionally. she could still feel the sting of missed shots, the weight of turnovers, and the disappointment of her teammates' glares. the fans' cheers had turned to jeers, and she couldn't shake off the feeling of letting everyone down.

off the court, the media scrutiny was relentless. headlines dissected her every move, analyzing her performance with a critical eye. she was sick of it, and with each passing moment, her anger only seemed to grow stronger. she wanted to scream, to lash out at something, anything, that could bear the weight of her frustration.

"oh, fuck!" you moaned as you felt your eyes roll to the back of your head, gripping the sheets beneath you. caitlin had you bent over her bed as she fucked into you relentlessly, one of her hands gripping your hip as the other pushed your head into the mattress. "please,"

her thrusts were fast and unforgiving, she was absolutely wrecking you. you'd both been at it for what felt like hours but in reality, your legs felt like they were about to give out at any moment but neither of you cared ─ it felt so good.

"fuck, yeah. take it, fucking take it," caitlin's groans came out breathless as her head fell back, as if she could really feel you through the thick piece of plastic. "good fucking girl, yeah,"

you nodded your head against the mattress at her praise, feeling the coil in your stomach begin to tighten. you loved it when cait treated you like this ─ she was usually caring but right now it felt like she couldn't care less about how you felt.

and you can admit to almost anyone that having a hot and tall hooper girlfriend has many perks ─ including getting absolutely fucking wrecked by her strap after terrible games.

"please, fuck," you choked out as you felt yourself begin to shake underneath her, your face contorting into one of pure bliss.

"fucking slut," the words came out smoothly as you moaned in response. she wasn't ever much of a degrader but god, did it feel good.

caitlin gripped your hair even harder as she pulled you up so that she press kisses against your jaw as she continued to fuck into you. "you like that? fuck, baby, you like getting called a slut? yeah?"

"yeah," you sobbed out as caitlin pressed her lips against yours in a sloppy kiss.

caitlin pushed your head back against the mattress and somehow, her thrusts got even rougher and faster. "oh fuck yeah, take it like a slut. i know you like that shit, stop whining,"

that was all it took for you to cum around her strap, your cries of pleasure echoing throughout her apartment. she didn't stop, she kept fucking you until you rode out your high.

caitlin kept pressing sloppy kisses on your shoulders and neck as you caught your breath, she wrapped her arms around your naked back and pulled you closer. you could feel her smile on your neck as you both stayed like that for a few moments, relishing in each other.

and that was all she needed to feel okay again. suddenly all the media and all the bullshit didn't matter anymore, because at least you were with her. and at the end of the day, she has a sexy ass girlfriend who can take her rough strap game after a tough loss (and who supports and cherishes her).

she pulled out of you slowly, wary of your very sensitive pussy. you winced as her expression turned thoughtful, "you okay, honey?"

"yeah," you whispered out as caitlin's hands gripped your hips and slowly pushed you on the bed. you turned around to meet her face and she pushed your hair out of your face, taking in your beautiful face.

she put one leg on the bed and began to move toward you, only for the mattress to completely complete collapse underneath. caitlin's eyes widened in surprise as the mattress collapsed beneath her, sending both of you tumbling to the floor with a thud. you let out a startled gasp, the sudden movement catching you off guard.

for a moment, there was silence, save for the sound of your breathing and the creaking of the broken bed frame. then, a burst of laughter bubbled up from deep within you, and soon caitlin joined in, her laughter filling the room.

"holy shit, dude," you laughed as caitlin caught her breath.

caitlin kept giggling as she shook her head in amusement. "my strap game that good?"

"i can't believe we actually like... we broke the bed," you both dissolved into fits of laughter again, the absurdity of the situation sinking in.

caitlin smirked, a playful glint in her eyes. "i guess that's what happens when you bring your a-game," she quipped, earning another round of laughter from both of you. "my ego really, really needed that, whew."

your expression softened as your girlfriend looked back at you, before continuing. "no seriously, even if we keep this losing streak up, at least i have you to make me feel better."

"really? that was all it took, one good fuck and you're all better?" you smirked as caitlin nodded, in all seriousness.

"oh, yes. absolutely. half of those dudes can't get their girls to orgasm with their real dicks. i did it with a damn strap and i got you screaming your head off, oh and i broke the bed," caitlin explained as you began laughing again. "i'm never gonna be able to take 'em seriously now, cause like... sure i keep getting dogged on but i'm still adjusting and!"

she pulled you closer into her chest, "i have a sexy girlfriend,"

"that's the spirit, baby," you laughed again as you squeezed your tall girlfriend.

caitlin chuckled, her arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. "damn right," she said, her voice filled with pride. "and don't you forget it."

"never doubted it for a second," you replied, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "you're the sexiest, most badass girlfriend a girl could ask for."

"i love you, sweetheart," she mumbled against your head as she leaned toward you again before she felt the bed give way beneath you both once more. this time, however, instead of laughter, there was a collective groan as you hit the floor with a thud.

"love you too, but how are we gonna sleep tonight?" you groaned as caitlin sighed.

"i'm calling a hotel, hold on," caitlin sighed as she got up from the broken bed and walked out of the room.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[lvrsrequ3st]

mdni – minors, remove yourself before i tell your mummy, or daddy, or whoever, what you reading.

cw: mentions of blood, wounds and bruises. um, jinx eats you out with your panties on for a bit. if that's even triggering?

jinx who fetches your attention when you give her silent treatment.

you are currently ignoring jinx, with both of you on the couch, and your not budging one bit at any of her ideas that she has tried on you today.

she knows why you are angry. she went somewhere you specifically told her not to go to because you were worried about her getting injured and she decided to not bother taking your message to heart and decided to go there anyway and ended up coming back with a gash on her arm and a couple bruises on her skin.

her arm was covered in blood, and you were furious with her, but also very worried about her. you patched her up, in silence, and now she's stuck with the silent treatment, and to be fair, it is her fault.

she tried to get your attention even with a kiss on your lips, which to her surprise you didn't even budge. your lips didn't even move?! this surprised her because normally that would get you to falter at least a little bit, but no, not even a little bit. sheesh, you must be angry with her then.

she tries another idea and decides to plop herself onto your lap, but much to her disappointment, nothing. literally nothing. you were playing with her strings. she apologised fifty thousand times already?! how can she possibly apologise to you if you're not even listening to her and being impossible?!

that's when an idea pops into her head. a toothy smile appears on her face and she moves herself off of your lap and sinks down onto her knees. she kisses your knee and notices how you still don't budge, but she doesn't care because she knows this plan of hers will work within an instant.

she gently pushes your thighs apart and looks up and notice how your tense up a bit. she tugs your shorts down which was a little more difficult without the help of your hips lifting up. she hums when she sees the wet patch on your panties, but still, no reaction.

at least she knows you're turned on. even when your ignoring her, you can't help get wet with her actions. she hums and presses gently kisses against your thighs until her thumb traces over your clothed clit. she listens in at the way your let out a very quiet, little gasp.

she grins and rubs your clad-covered clit in circles, listening as your eyes flutter, still trying your hardest to keep up the silent treatment. she chuckles, finding this funny, like a new game.

she presses a kiss against your clothed pussy and watches as your eyebrows furrow and your lips seperate slightly. you were so close to breaking that stupid silent treatment of yours. she can feel it!

she takes in at the way your panties start getting even more soaked. her toothy grin widens and she can't help but stick out her tongue against your clit. that made you jolt a little and you to grip onto the couch. she knows you are fighting the urge to grip onto her hair.

continuing, she moans slightly at the taste of you, sending vibrations through the cotton and to your clit. she notices how you let out quiet moans and she wants to push more out of you so she starts swirling her tongue over your covered bud.

she takes in at the way you start to falter and let out soft moans. she coos and then sucks on your clit through your panties. it feels so good and she knows it but it doesn't feel good as good as mouth to skin contact and you know, and she knows, that you won't get that until you open your mouth.

she sucks on your clothed clit harder and you give up and move your hands to your girlfriend's long blue braids desperately trying to tug her closer to your covered pussy, seeking more of that precious pleasure.

she pulls away and smirks as you whine, "nope. not going to continue until you stop with that stupid silent treatment of yours and tell me what you want!"

the ache on your pussy becoming annoying to the point you can't help but break the silent treatment to start begging, "please, baby! need you. need you so bad!! need your tongue against my pussy... please?"

she takes in at the way you're finally talking to her before dipping her head back in between your legs. she moves her hand up to push your panties to the side. you tense up a bit as a gush of cold air goes onto your pussy.

her gaze follows over your pretty pussy and the way it shines from how wet you are. a delicious sight to see and a delicious thing to taste.

she wastes no time digging in and slurping up your juices. her loud mouth and your moans fill up the room. she sticks her tongue into your pussy, needing to taste more of your wetness made for her meanwhile one of move up fingers to rub your clit.

she gets completely pussy drunk with the way your pussy tastes. she eats you out like she has never eaten before and you were her first meal. her tongue thrusts in and out of your while her finger rubs left and right without slowing down. you grip onto her hair and your orgasm crashes over you. it makes your thighs tremble uncontrollably and she eagerly drinks up your orgasm and pulls away, spit and your orgasm on her chin.

"sorry for disobeying you and making me worry."

"it's fine. now get up here, stupid! i want some clit to clit action..."

"was one orgasm not enough?"

"shut up and get up here before you getting another round of silent treatment!"

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

about me + rules.

this is so corny but whateverrrr!! also rushed proofread at the end because if you look at my blog i generally hate proofreading and literally always do a rough and rushed one.

[allgoodnamesrgoneee]

Heyy could you do a Kylian Mbappé Imagine where they have a argument and don't talk to each other for a few days but with a happy ending?

Together, Always

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — Kylian has been neglecting you for a while and you've finally had enough.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — boyfriend!Kylian Mbappé x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 2.7k

Warnings! ANGST, relationship problems, fighting, arguments, fluff, soft Kylian, sad Kylian, sad reader

It's been three days.

Three days since you've seen him. Three days since you had last talked. And three days since the huge argument that had resulted in you storming out of the flat, leaving him behind in a flurry of angry tears and broken promises.

You had never really argued with him before, not like this at least. You've had plenty of disagreements before, of course, but they were always just silly little things. This was different, this was about the heart of your relationship and the future of your life together.

When you had first met Kylian, back when he was still playing for Monaco, he had been so into you. He would call you up every day, take you out on romantic dates and hold your hand everywhere. And then he had signed with PSG and everything had changed. He had been too busy to go out on dates, too busy to spend time with you, too busy to do anything other than play football and go home.

And that had been okay for a while, you'd understood. You'd been happy to support him in his career, even if it meant that you didn't get as much time together. You'd tell yourself that it would be worth it in the long run, when he'd get more time off and you could spend it together. But it never happened, he just kept training and playing and going away on tours with the team, and you were been left behind.

You'd tried talking to him, you'd tried being understanding and supportive. But it just felt like he wasn't hearing you, like he was just humouring you until he could get back to his game. And eventually you'd snapped.

You stand in the living room, arms crossed, voice tight with frustration. "I don't understand why you can't see my point of view, Kylian."

Kylian, pacing back and forth, runs a hand down his face. "It's not that I don't see it. I just think you're overreacting. It was just one night out with the guys."

You shake your head, feeling disappointment again. You were so tired. Tired of being the only one to fight for this relationship. Tired of being the only one who cared. "It's not just about the night out. It's about every night. You said we would spend more time together, but you're always busy. I barely see you."

Kylian stops pacing, his eyes meeting yours, swimming in guilt. "I'm doing my best, but my career demands a lot. You knew this when we got together."

"That doesn't mean I should always come second," you reply, voice cracking slightly. "I just want to feel important to you."

He sighs, stepping closer but not reaching out. "You are important to me. But this is my dream, and it's not something I can just put on hold."

Your heart aches, and the room feels suffocating. "You know what, I think I'll stay at Sophie's place for a few days." You knew you shouldn't do this. Run away. You should talk about it. Get him to understand. But right now the room felt too small, he was too close, and you felt like you couldn't breathe.

So you're running.

Kylian frowns, reaching out to you, but you take a step back. "Baby, come on, don't do that. We can work through this."

You look up at him, tears streaming down your cheeks. "No, we can't. You don't want to."

You'd never seen him look so crestfallen. And you'd never felt so brokenhearted. But you'd done what you had to do. You'd needed space, needed to think and figure out if you even wanted to continue in this relationship. You knew without a doubt you still love him. Just as much as the first time you said it, if not more. But did he.

With the way he's been acting lately, you weren't so sure.

It feels like you're fighting a losing battle. And that was why you needed to take a step back, and try and figure out what you should do. Even if it felt like your heart was breaking.

He doesn't say another word as you make your way to the bedroom, nothing as you pack up your suitcase, nothing as you grab your car keys.

He doesn't say anything.

He just stands there, arms crossed, looking utterly defeated. You pause for a moment, feeling your resolve slip slightly. But you remind yourself why you're doing this, why you need to do this, and you turn and walk out the door. Closing it firmly behind you.

*********

The days since then had been quiet.

You've barely slept or eaten, and your mind had been a jumbled mess of conflicting thoughts. you can't help but wonder what he's doing. Is he still training? Is he missing you? Is he thinking about you? Do you even matter to him?

You push the thoughts away as best you can, trying to piece everything together, and get yourself under control. And you realised, you had no idea what to do. You wanted Kylian, you loved him so much. But he made it so hard for you to stay, to continue loving him.

You wanted him to be there for you, to care for you, to love you in return. But he made it so hard to feel like you were a priority.

It feels like you're in a nightmare.

How does someone get over the love of their life? Did you even want to.

Kylian is also trying to deal with the absence, though he is hiding his feelings well. He immerses himself in the matches and the training, hoping it will distract him from the void left by your departure. But it doesn't. Your absence is like a gaping hole in his life that he can't seem to fill, no matter how hard he tries.

The time without you feels like a lifetime, and it's the longest time you've been apart since you met. It's been a while since he's felt this lonely , this empty. He misses the way you always made him feel. The way you made him laugh, the way you made him feel so alive.

But more than anything, he misses the warmth of your touch. The softness of your skin. The way he could bury himself in your neck and feel safe. The way you could make everything seem alright. The way you could make all his problems disappear.

And now that's been taken away.

He misses it all so much, it physically hurts. His stomach twists with guilt and regret and longing. He wants you back, he needs you back. He hates that you're gone. Hates that he doesn't get to wake up beside you and fall asleep in your arms.

But he knows why you left, he can't blame you. He's been awful. He's been so focused on the football, on making it to the top, he hasn't made any effort with you. And it's not fair.

You deserve more than he's been giving you. And he wants to change that. Wants to be better for you, wants to try harder.

He wants to make things right. To make it up to you. And he will.

As much as he hates you being away, he knows it's for the best. You need the space and time to figure things out. And he needs to figure it out for himself too. Needs to learn how to be better for you.

He hopes that you'll forgive him, that you'll take him back and that you'll be willing to give him another chance. Because he wants one. He wants to prove himself to you.

*********

It's late evening when you receive his text. The first one in three days.

Your phone buzzes with the message, and your heart skips a beat. You take a deep breath, before opening the text app, and reading his message.

“Hey. I miss you.”

You let out a small gasp, feeling a lump form in your throat. It's such a simple message, but it feels like the most precious thing in the world. Your hands shake slightly as you type out a response.

“I miss you too.”

He sends another text immediately after.

“I'm sorry.”

You swallow hard, your heart jumping slightly at the message. It's the first time he's said it. The first time he's apologised. It's not enough. You want more. You want to feel wanted. You want to tell you that you're his priority.

“I know,” you reply, deciding not to make the first move until he does. You want him groveling for your forgiveness.

There's another pause before he sends another text.

“Do you want to come over? Talk things through?”

You hesitate for a moment, wondering if this is the right time. Wondering if you're ready to go back. To see him. But you need to know where you stand with him. Need to know if there's any hope for your relationship. And maybe, maybe it's time for you to be a bit softer. To make things easier for him. To let him show you he cares.

“Okay.”

You watch the three dots appear as he types out a message, before disappearing.

“See you soon.”

Three little words but they make your heart soar. You let out a deep breath, your nerves fluttering in your belly. You've never felt so anxious before. So unsure of the future.

What happens next? Do you stay together, or do you break up. Do you forgive him, or do you move on?

The answer lies with Kylian.

You can't help but wonder what he's going to say, what he's going to do. You're desperate for him to tell you that you're his priority. That he needs you. That he wants to try. That he regrets letting you go.

You want to hear that you're his everything.

And you want him to show it to you. Want him to prove it. Want him to be there for you. To support you. To love you. You hope that he does. Hope that he means it when he says he's sorry. Hope that he's ready to make amends.

Hope that he's ready to try.

You pull up to the flat, your stomach filled with butterflies. You haven't seen him in three days, and you're so nervous. But you know you have to do this. You check yourself in the mirror, making sure you're perfect, and then get out of the car.

The elevator is slow, but you're grateful for it. You need the time to prepare yourself. You take deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart.

You're ready for this. Ready for anything.

When you step out of the elevator, he's already standing in front of the door. You feel your breath hitch as you see him. He looks different than he did last time. His eyes are red and his skin is paler. He looks tired.

He looks like hell.

You feel the urge to run to him, to jump into his arms and never let go. But you hold yourself back, waiting for him to make the first move.

He steps forward, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

The conversation feels strained, the air thick with emotion. You both know what's at stake, and you're both scared. You're scared of losing him. And he's scared of losing you.

He steps closer towards you, and you step back slightly. He pauses, looking at you sadly. “Do you want to come in?”

You nod, following him into the apartment. Your heart pounds in your ears, and your stomach twists with anxiety. You've never felt this nervous before. This scared. But you know you have to do this. You have to talk.

The living room feels small and empty, devoid of life. It feels like a tomb, and you want to run from it. Run from the tension and the pain that hangs in the air. But you know you can't. Not yet.

Kylian gestures for you to sit down, but you shake your head. “No, I'll stand.” Just in case you need to run again.

He nods, stading at a safe distance from you. “So…” he starts. “I don't know where to start.”

You take a deep breath, knowing that this is it. This is the moment you've been waiting for. “Just say whatever you need to say.”

He nods, running a hand down his face, stepping closer to you. “Okay.” He pauses for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. “First of all, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I haven't been there for you. Sorry that I haven't been making enough effort. I know I've been focusing on my career, and I shouldn't have let it come between us. But it's not because I don't want to be with you. You're everything to me. You're my priority.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, feeling a lump form in your throat. It's everything you've ever wanted to hear. Everything you've ever dreamed of. But you can't let him off so easily. You have to make him work for it. “How do I know you'll follow through on that? How do I know you'll actually make an effort?”

He smiles sadly at you, reaching out to grab your hands, thumbs caressing the back of them. “I don't expect you to trust me immediately. I've let you down before, and I don't expect you to forget that. But I'll prove it to you, I promise. I'll do everything I can to show you that I want this. That I want us.”

You feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes, your heart softening slightly. You want to believe him, you really do. But you're scared. Scared that he's just saying this to get you back. Scared that he doesn't mean it.

You look up at him, your voice breaking. “I want it too. But I need to know it's real.”

He steps closer, pulling you into his arms. “It is.”

You feel yourself melt against him, your heart beating rapidly. It feels good to be in his arms again. Too good. He holds you close, stroking your hair and back. “I love you.”

You feel tears roll down your cheeks, and you let out a small sob. “I love you too.” You sniffle slightly, looking up at him. He smiles softly at you, cupping your face. You smile back at him. Maybe this will work after all. Maybe he'll actually try. “I missed you,” you admit.

He pulls you closer, kissing your forehead. “I missed you too.”

You stand there for a moment, holding each other tightly. Feeling the love between you. And you know that this isn't over. This is just the beginning.

“Baby, I'm sorry." He apologizes again. "I was selfish and I didn't realize how much my behavior was hurting you. You deserve better than that. These past few days without you were horrible. I don't ever want to experience that again.”

You feel your chest tighten slightly at his words, and you pull back slightly to look up at him. “I do. But I know that you're busy, and that your career is important. It's just hard sometimes when you don't seem to have any time for me.” You smile sadly at him, cupping his face. " And I'm sorry too. I should have communicated my feelings sooner. I was so caught up in being hurt, I forgot to let you in.”

He nods, eyes soft and full of love as he looks down at you. “I promise I'll be the man worth your love. Just promise me if you feel bad you'll tell me right away.”

You nod in agreement, leaning up to kiss him. "I love you." you whisper against his lips.

"I love you too. " He pulls you back into his arms, and you know that things are going to be okay. You'll still fight, you'll still struggle. But it'll be together. And that's all that matters. You lean your head against his chest, holding him tightly. Knowing that this is where you belong.

In his arms. With him. Forever.

You seal your promise with a kiss and know that no matter what comes next, you're ready for it. As long as you're together.

-Bianca🌻

[twstgarden]

❀ ❝ 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗵𝘂𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁 ❞

━ general! lilia vanrouge x human! gn! reader ━ living as a human in a fae-dominated country during the war probably isn't your best idea, but you love the land of briar so much as you were born and raised in that nation. who knew that your little activity of picking berries in the forest would make you meet the famed fae general? will he think you're a spy and deem you as a threat or will he realize you're just an innocent human living in the forest? (f/n means first name)

requested by: anonymous request type: oneshot requester's message: Can I request a General Lilia and Human Reader one-shot? Something fluffy (wasn't sure if you were up to date with the game so didn't want to get too specific) florist's note: omg a general lilia request. don't worry, i'm up to date w the jp version of the game. thank you for the request, little one.

this work contains spoilers for chapter 7, diasomnia's arc.

do not steal or translate without my permission.

“what are you doing out here, human?”

you flinched in surprise as a voice startled you from behind. you stood up and turned around with your basket on your arm, looking at the person who disturbed your little time. you were about to respond until you noticed the semi-familiar mask and the long dark hair with red highlights peeking out of this person’s hood.

it was the famed fae general.

“i was… just picking berries, sir.”

you responded as soon as you regained your thoughts. you continued to hold your basket as your eyes trailed all over his figure, taking in the details of his clothing and the mask covering his face. the eye holes glowed red, giving you the impression that it could be his eye colour. 

he was silent for a while as you responded, making you stay silent before looking down at your half-filled basket, tilting it a little to show him the contents.

“here… if you don’t believe me…”

the general looked at the basket for a quick second then looked back at you, speaking in a stern tone as he was still a little suspicious of you, “why pick berries all the way to this forest? you might be one of those pesky silver owl spies for all i know.”

silver owl? ah, that must be the human knights wearing iron armour and stealing the resources of the land of briar. 

what a disappointment… your own kind seemed to have never learned not to steal other’s resources. 

“ah… no… i’m not a spy nor am i a part of the silver owls… i’m just a human living in the forest and this spot is the closest area for berry picking to my cottage,” you tried to explain yourself to the general as the red glow in the mask’s eyeholes stared back at you with extreme intensity. 

when he did not respond for a while, you bowed a little to show respect and asked, “am i free to go, general?” 

he let out a short hum and held onto his weapon as he replied, “go. avoid the forest as much as possible, human. it’s not safe here. evacuate while you can.” you gave him a small smile and bowed your head again, “thank you, general, but i’ll be fine in this forest. have a great evening, sir.”

you held onto your basket and smiled for a quick second before turning around and walking away from the general, heading back to your lovely little cottage settled just a few meters away from the berry-picking spot. 

so that was the fae general. you finally had the chance to meet him face-to-face. his aura made him quite intimidating, especially when he holds that magical lithic. still, you didn’t want that to scare you. you knew you did nothing wrong, so there was no reason to fear him coming after you. 

that aside, the berries you picked were to your expectations, and you grabbed enough to bake your pie for dinner. with that in mind, you got to work, prepping the ingredients and baking your pie. the scent of the pie flooded your kitchen and the surrounding area of your cottage.

lucky for you, your little neighbourhood was safe and rarely do you ever find any threatening creatures, just a bunch of adorable woodland creatures. by the time your pie was finished baking, you had dinner by yourself on a picnic bench right outside your cottage, enjoying the greenery despite the darkness of the forest. 

it was going well until you felt another presence with you sitting right in front of you on the picnic bench. you glanced at the person and saw a soldier wearing armour with the palace guards’ coat of arms and a mask covering their face looking at you ━ or rather, the pie. it seems they’ve smelt it from wherever they were staying and came over. 

the soldier started screeching and you knew it was speaking to you in their language. unfortunately, being human meant it was hard for you to pick up and understand what they were saying, so you had to rely on the soldier’s body language. 

noticing how they were eyeing the single slice of pie in your hand, you thought the soldier wanted to have some, making you extend your hand a little as you spoke, “you want a pie? wait here.”

you then entered your cottage to grab the remaining slices of pie on your table and went out, placing it on the picnic table right in front of the soldier, “here, have this! you can share it with the rest of the soldiers, there’s plenty left!” 

the soldier stared at the pie for a while before looking up at you as if they were checking for any signs of hesitation or whatnot. you merely smiled to show no ill will, but another screech was heard from behind the soldier and your eyes immediately noticed the general standing right there. 

the soldier turned around and saluted at the general before screeching back, making it evident to you that they are conversing in their own language. moments later, the soldier disappeared into the dark forest, leaving you with the general as you looked at him, “did you tell him to leave?”

“no, i told him not to take food from others even if they try to offer it.”

you sighed as you sat on the picnic bench, “are you still wary of me?” 

“yes.”

oh, how straightforward. very admirable.

“i see… well, i’m not sure what i should say to make you think i’m just a regular forest resident and not a spy, but at least have a pie. there’s plenty left to share. it’s not poisoned if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“i am not interested in eating human food.”

those were the last things he said before disappearing into the night somewhere in the forest, presumably heading back to where his soldiers were camping out. you blinked your eyes for a moment before shrugging your shoulders and mumbling under your breath, “alright, general…” 

days have passed and you’ve occasionally seen the general around the forest as you did your usual activities. he had warned you not to dilly-dally around the forest, while other times, he just ignored you and let you do your thing as well as informing his troops not to harm you. 

soon, it escalated to some of the soldiers even paying you a visit just to check on you. you appreciated their gestures, but at the back of your mind, you wondered if the general grew to accept you as a regular citizen of their country. you even got to meet one of the soldiers called baul zigvolt as he paid your cottage a visit once to see if you were well or not. in return, you gave him one of your pastries or meals that he can share with the rest of his comrades. it certainly has become sort of a routine to you at this point.

one day, none of the soldiers paid you a little visit, which made you wonder if they were alright or if they’d moved their camp somewhere else further away from your cottage. you sat on the picnic bench right outside your cottage as you sipped on some beverage you made yourself, watching the surrounding areas for any signs of life, watching the moon and the stars up in the sky shining down on you, listening to the crickets in the distance, and feeling the cold breeze in the air as it made the trees sway a little. 

you were about to head back inside until you heard a familiar voice a few steps behind you. 

“waiting for something?”

you turned around and smiled as you saw the same old mask as the familiar figure stood there, “well… someone, rather.” 

a chuckle was heard from the general before walking towards you and sitting on the picnic bench before you. your smile was still present on your face as you spoke, “i’m doing alright if you’re here to check on me. i appreciate all your efforts, general.”

it was silent for a bit, but you remained smiling at him. a few seconds later, his hands hovered over his mask before grabbing it, revealing his features as his red eyes looked right at you.

your eyes widened slightly. he was really good-looking. you couldn’t find the right words to say, but you remained smiling as he spoke to you, “...that’s a relief, then. you need to know how dangerous this place is. it isn’t safe for you to stay here, human.”

“f/n.”

“what?”

“my name’s f/n…” 

the general smiled a little and continued to speak, “i see…” you smiled and proceeded to reply to his words earlier, “i’ll be alright here, general. this is my home… i was raised in this cottage by my parents. now that i’m alone, i still wish to stay here.” he nodded a little as you added, “...thank you, general, for looking out and considering me as the land of briar’s citizen…”

he didn’t say anything for a moment as you handed him a little flower from your garden and a few cookies with a sheepish smile, “i didn’t get to cook or bake much today, so… please accept this..”

the general grabbed the cookies and the flower from you as he placed the flower safely by the belt of his armour while grabbing a cookie and taking a bite. a few moments later, you conversed with the general until he had to head back to his camp. 

you stood before him and spoke as you went to see him off, “thank you for visiting, general. be safe out there.” he nodded his head and placed a rose on your hair, already wearing a mask as he did so, “... there… you look beautiful… and you’re the one who needs to be safe out here, f/n. i’ll see you again tomorrow.” he then disappeared into the night, but his words were still in your mind. 

beautiful.

beautiful.

beautiful…

the general thinks you look beautiful. 

“oh dear me, my heart can’t take this…” you whispered as you hovered a hand above your chest, right where your heart was. you smiled to yourself as you entered your cottage and went to your room, laying on your bed as you hugged your pillow.

“i hope i’ll see him again tomorrow…”

© twstgarden 2023 || please do not steal, translate without my permission, or use this to train a.i.

[yuyuzi-ling]

First post here, and I have read multiple platonic yandere batfam with a neglected reader fanfics so I decided to come up with my own plan.

I did not read any of the DC comics and have only relied on batfam fics, so don't have high expectations because this may not follow the canon plot. Characters may be OOC.

Relationships & Some Plot

I decided to make the reader the child of Selina and Bruce. Their ages are complicated so I just made Bruce's age 26 and Selina's 25 when they had their child. Dick was nine at the time that reader was born.

At first, Bruce was excited having a child he can finally raise and watch their firsts. So he tried his best to be there for her. But as time passed, he realized that raising a child from birth is difficult because of his duties. He was scared of what kind of person reader will become if they're raised by him. Especially with how interested reader was with heroes and vigilantes as they grew up. So he began to distance himself from reader until he finally became cold to them.

Just like his adoptive father, Dick was ecstatic to have a little sibling. He doted on them for their early years but eventually got busy. The two had nothing to share with their interests and hobbies. He's a vigilante, reader was a civilian. He may never say it, but he got bored and so tried to make up excuses to leave the reader in order to do something he likes with someone he likes.

Selina absolutely adored their child. She always supported them and might have spoiled them when they were a baby. Unlike the other two, she didn't change her views. She was even disappointed at the two for ever letting her child down. Unluckily, she wasn't able to take her child with her because she knows how safe the Manor is and doesn't want her child to become fatherless.

9 years passed and Bruce brought Jason to the Manor.

Being alone most of the time aside from when Selina visits and when Alfred wasn't busy taking care of everyone, reader expected Jason to end up like their brother and father.

As expected, Jason was delighted upon meeting reader and even joined in their games. Unexpectedly though, he continued to stay with reader. Jason, who after quite some time, finally earned reader's trust and found out why Bruce and Dick was acting indifferent towards reader.

He was pissed. But reader told him not to do anything. Reader at that time, believed that they were only doing it to protect her and that city. After some convincing, Jason finally stopped his plan to ruin their lives. But he still held annoyance.

They got even closer to the point that Alfred noted that the two acted more like siblings than anyone in the Manor does. Selina was also thankful to Jason for being there for her child.

Years later, when reader was 9 and Jason was 15, Jason died. No one bothered telling reader about it. Bruce didn't because he was too busy mourning. Dick didn't because he was away. Alfred couldn't because he didn't want to see reader in their father's mourning state. Reader only found out when Selina arrived. Selina was enraged about it and fought with Bruce for an entire day. Reader stayed up in their room crying while it happened with only Alfred to comfort them.

Cass arrived. Reader felt like it was a fresh start. Out of everyone in the manor including Alfred, Reader only talked to Cass. They liked her silent company. Cass who understood the tension from both sides( reader & batfam ), didn't know how to approach the situation and so decided to give silent comfort to Reader.

And then Tim arrived. He arrived under the disguise of being a close relative of Alfred who was a victim from a villain attack and so had to stay in the manor. Reader expected nothing. Reader never made the attempt to talk to him or notice him unless he reached out first. Tim would make attempts to talk to reader and started to genuinely care for them. Reader was also slowly starting to care for him. But it was all ruined when reader saw him using Jason's vigilante identity.

Reader got furious, and saw it as Tim stealing Jason's place. They stayed in their room for days and refused to come out. They yelled at anyone who tried to talk to them aside from their mother. But even then, they still refused to come out.

It eventually got to the point where Dick had to come in through the window and half-drag Reader out of the room with Tim. Reader argued with Dick and Bruce with Selina backing Reader up. Cass silently and solemnly watched everything unfold, not having the courage to do anything. Reader told them how shameless they were for replacing their deceased brother, for Bruce not being content of having two Robins and instead got another one, and how Tim will also die using that suit.

Loosing his patience, Bruce yelled back at reader, telling them he's going to send them away to a boarding school for their behavior. Everyone was stunned. Selina started yelling at him while Tim and Dick looked at each other uncertainly. Reader glared at everyone before storming back to their room.

Bruce and Selina continued to argue. With Bruce defending his statement, saying how Reader will be safe away from them and will also heal reader's attitude. Selina thought otherwise and called him heartless for even daring to come up with such an idea. Bruce stood by his word and refused to listen to Selina so she stormed to her child's room. She told reader to pack their stuffs so they could leave the manor, telling them that they'll live with her from now on.

Surprisingly though, Reader disagreed. Reader told her that they'll attend the boarding school because they need time away from everyone. Selina was shocked and a bit hurt but agreed to their decision.

When the day arrived that it was time for Reader to leave, Bruce offered to personally take them to the boarding school. Reader ignored him like how they've been ignoring everyone ever since the fight. At the private airport, while Bruce was handling security affairs, Reader; who was left alone at the waiting area got kidnapped by three airport staffs who were actually people of Lexcorp in disguise.

Aaaand that's where I stop it. I might end up spoiling the whole plot. I don't know if I'll turn this into a real fanfiction. I have a plan on doing that but not at the moment because I'm currently busy. What do you think?

[starlightvld]

Faking It

Ghost is a master of stealth. He uses this to his advantage both on and off the field, the latter of which is mostly for his own personal amusement. And though he typically targets cocky recruits or pompous officers, the core 141 members are not exempt from his games.

Price can usually sense him coming, but even after so many years of working together, he's still the one most likely to be surprised. Sadly for Ghost, Price is also a consummate professional at holding back his emotions, so although Ghost succeeds in surprising him, Price doesn't show it. Which... is no fun (exactly as Price intends).

Gaz is the perfect soldier, and that extends to his situational awareness. Ghost has managed to actually scare him a sum total of three times, and all of them were while he was drunk off his arse. Ghost has made it a personal goal to scare Gaz while he's not pissed and is so far zero to... far too many attempts to count.

The first time Ghost sneaks up behind Soap, though, he's rewarded with a shriek worthy of a banshee. Soap instantly tackles him and starts an impromptu spar in the rec room, breaking one table and three chairs.

Price reprimands them both.

Ghost is utterly delighted.

Soap becomes his new target more often than not, and every time, he gets some form of shrieking or squeaking or Scottish swearing. Soap returns the favor by pranking the shit out of Ghost: putting hair dye in Ghost's shampoo, offering to make him tea and using salt instead of sugar, and worst of all, stealing all his balaclavas and writing "Property of TF 141, if found return to Soap" across the backs.

Ghost has never been so entertained in all his life.

Soap is also delighted, but for different reasons.

He's spent years learning from the best of the best, so after those first few scares, he trains himself to keep an ear out for cues that Ghost is coming - the faint rustle of tactical pants, a rare squeak of boots, or the way people around will go silent if they see him before Soap senses him. Soon, he's anticipating Ghost's presence nine times out of ten. And he's rehearsed a hundred ways of responding just to entertain Ghost.

It's not until Ghost stalks up to where he's sitting alone at a table in the midst of a very busy SAS rec room that Soap thinks he might have made a mistake.

"Have you been fakin' it all this time?"

Ghost growls the question like he's legitimately offended. He's not paying attention to the several other tables of soldiers sitting around them, but Soap is. The sudden silence is deafening. Then whispers start up, and Soap barely holds back a face palm. Instead he looks Ghost in the eyes and responds in a loud and clear voice.

"Aye, I figured out how to tell yer sneaking up behind me a while ago, but ye seemed so amused by my squawkin' that I kept it up."

The whispers die down. Soap breathes out a little sigh of relief even as he regrets the sudden slump in Ghost's shoulders. Ghost looks off to the side, shakes his head, and stomps away with a muttered "fuckin' hell."

Soap doesn't react, and soon the other soldiers are coming up to him, begging him to teach them how to sense Ghost sneaking up on them, too. Soap laughs and smiles and tells them they'll have to figure it out on their own.

It's not until later that night that he slips into Ghost's room to talk it out. Ghost is sitting maskless on his bed, nothing but a thin pair of gray jogging bottoms covering his toned body, and Soap has to use all his willpower to keep his eyes on Ghost's face as he approaches the bed.

"Are ye truly upset with me?"

Ghost sighs. "No. Just disappointed."

Soap huffs a little laugh. "Ye do know that everyone's minds went straight to the gutter with that first comment, though, right?"

"What comment?"

"The one where ye asked me if I'm fakin' it. Had to tell the truth to make sure everyone knew what you were actually talking about."

That brings a smile to Ghost's face. "Oh. Didn't think about it like that."

"No?"

"No. I fuck you too well for you to be fakin' it in bed."

Soap smirks and props a knee on the mattress. "Might need ye to prove it."

Ghost grabs him by the belt loops and pulls until he tumbles into bed. And Soap is happy to confirm that, in this, he's not faking it at all.

[barcalover86]

Hey!! Could you do something about reader and gavi watching the barça matches at home? I think it would be so funny to watch a match with him, he’d yell at the screen all the time like if they could listen to him hahaha and specially now that barça is not on their greatest days i feel he’d get so pissed, poor boy

Game night

"When will the game start?" you asked while being in a big hurry.

You were waiting for the popcorn to be done while you were also making some orange juice, knowing that Pablo loves it.

"5-6 minutes." he replied.

Your hands were starting to hurt. Making your own juice wasn't easy and it took about 8 oranges so that it could be enough for you.

Or that is what you thought.

After all your hard work, it wasn't enough, and you had no oranges left now.

Gavi still had to take care of his diet, not being allowed to eat or drink sugar.

You sighed sadly, pouring the liquid into a bigger glass.

After some shouts that came from your boyfriend's mouth telling you that the game began, the popcorn was finally ready.

Thank God it was enough for both of you.

When you were done, you took the food, the water, and the juice, and immediately came to the living room, already seeing Gavi up with his hands on his head.

"What happened??" you asked confused while putting everything on the table.

"Not even 2 minutes since the game started, and they already scored a goal!"

You looked at the TV just to be shocked by how fast the other team scored.

"That's tought."

Gavi groaned in annoyance, sad that he couldn't be on the field to help his team when they needed him the most.

When he looked at the table, he had a sweet pout on his face.

"That's why it took you so long?" his tone was soft, being sad that he is unavailable for some months and that you have to take care of him.

"I'm sorry, I tried to hurry up-"

"No, I should be the one to apologise here, love. You are my girl and I should take care of you.." he interrupted you.

"You take care of me, Pablo. But right now, it's my turn, so shut up, and let's watch this game, okay?"

He smiled at you and kissed your lips shortly, but sweet.

The game was really stressful and Gavi just couldn't stay in place.

He would walk around the room, making all kinds of faces when Barca was missing or losing the ball.

When half the game ended, he tiredly hugged you, telling you how hard it is to watch his favourite football team lose.

"I just want to be on the field, y/n."

"I know, but you have to recover so that you can go there and help them win. Until there, your support is enough, love."

"Enough? They can't even pass the ball cause they lose it!"

You laughed at how his eyebrows were moving, making his face funnier.

You kissed his forehead, hugging him tighter.

The game continued and Barca wasn't getting better than the other half.

Gavi was like a couch at home, yelling at everyone for their mistakes. You were also disappointed that the team wasn't doing much and you couldn't figure it out why they are so bad .

Of course, Pablo had a big impact on the team, but De Jong and Pedri were back.

After what seemed like hours, at 89', Cancelo finally scored a goal, making it 1-1.

Still disappointing, especially since they weren't playing with a big team, but 1 point rather than 0 was a bit better.

You looked at your boyfriend who was stressing out.

"Maybe they can win. It'll be just luck at how bad they played today, anyway."

But they didn't.

Right after the players went to the locker room, Gavi took his phone and started to text everyone on the team.

You were laughing, looking at how serious he was.

He groaned before kissing you, and drinking the water that was on the table, leaving the orange juice just for you.

Oh and how angry he was when the players were taking interviews after.

"Only excuses" he rolled his eyes, making you chuckle.

Oh, how you love this boy.

[stayconnecteed]

❪⠀🪐.⠀𓏔⠀i wanna be yours · masterlist⠀❫

☆ㅤif you like your coffee hot, let me be your coffee pot !!

synopsis: eight stories that take place at the 5-STAR café, known on campus as the best place to study for your exams. the owner, bangchan, recently finished his degree, and decided to turn the place into a shelter for students who are trying to get the best coffee as cheaply as possible. stay and discover the love stories that hid between the walls of the place, in which employees and customers are the protagonists.

content info: stories non-related one shots, there is no specific order, although i will post them in the classic skz order (first the older, the maknae as the last one). specified warnings on each chapter.

( hii, happy sunday!! ♡ )

01. ╱ HOT CHOCOLATE (bangchan).

Every time you tell someone that you don't like coffee, the reaction is total incomprehension, even indignation. But when your university classmates leave you standing at the café where your crush works, you decide to order a coffee to try to avoid looking bad and end up making a fool of yourself.

02. ╱ CAPPUCCINO (lee minho).

After a bad run you are forced to look for a second job, and you end up covering the first shift at the campus café. Every morning you find the same guy waiting for you to open, leaning on the wall, looking flawless, and it gets on your nerves. Until one day you see him leaving the dance academy where you teach, getting on the same bus as you.

03. ╱ FLAT-WHITE COFFEE (seo changbin).

The boy on the train you met the other day invited you on a date at his favorite cafe, and although he seemed like the perfect guy, he is turning out to be a disappointment. Luckily, the cute barista serving you has noticed, and is trying to make you have a good time, despite everything, which makes you think that you wish the date had been with him.

04. ╱ ICED AMERICANO (hwang hyunjin).

When arguments at home get too loud to ignore, you always end up grabbing your laptop to go study at the café next door, but it's not the first time you've run out of battery. Unfortunately, the tables with plugs are usually occupied, even the one next to you, where the annoying boy in your class who doesn't want to let you plug in the charger is sitting...

05. ╱ ICED CARAMEL LATTE (han jisung).

You have been working in the hostelry industry for a long time, and for a few months now at the 5STAR café, but recently your boss has changed everyone's schedule, and now the person who has the shift before you leaves you post-its stuck everywhere. It always makes you smile, until one day you decide to find out who it is.

06. ╱ MATCHA TEA (lee felix).

You haven't been in Korea for at least two years, but when you return to do a trip and show Seoul to your sister, you end up back on the campus with the excuse that you can't leave without your sister trying 5STAR's coffee. To your surprise, the freckled barista still remembers your order perfectly. It can no longer be a coincidence when your sister starts talking about him in your mother tongue and the boy seems to recognize the language.

07. ╱ ESPRESSO (kim seungmin).

With how much effort your grandmother had put into spending entire afternoons trying to teach you how to play chess, no one could have guessed that you would like it so much, or that you would be that good at it. And you had no idea that when you had accompanied your friend to the place where he works and moved that piece on the board, you were going to start a game of anonymous chess that you were more than willing to win.

08. ╱ FRAPPUCCINO (yang jeongin).

Whenever Changbin asks you for a favor, you end up regretting agreeing to help him. This time it is to be in charge of training the new barista hired, who seems to be seeing a coffee maker for the first time in his life. Even so, you take pity on him and try to teach him everything you know, even if that means listening to your colleagues' jokes and customers' comments, even discovering that maybe he didn't know so little.

taglist: @sseastar-main · @queen-in-the-shadows · @anaiii27 · @hanstarrs · @starsandrqindrops · @ivaneedssleep · @bbokari711 · @kayleefriedchicken permanent taglist: @jazziwritesthings · @rylea08 · @starlostastronaut · @manuosorioh · @kpopmenace143 · @skzms · @darkypooo · @pochaccomin · @caitlyn98s · @hanstarrs · @atinyniki

to be part of the taglist, fill this form or send an ask!!

© stayconnecteed 2023

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Change

childhood best friend!soap x reader

There was nothing better than a family get together than at the MacTavish household. There was always an abundance of good food that you got to partake in because according to Johnny's mother, "You're just as much as family as Johnny is."

You tried to ignore the way you always got butterflies in your stomach when she implied you and Johnny we're practically dating, and instead waved it off to the fact that the two of were best friends.

Everyone in the family knew you and Johnny seemed to pride in that fact. He beamed when someone said they were happy to see you for another party and when they said they hoped to see you again.

You thought everyone knew you until he showed up.

It was a normal get together until one of Johnny's cousins, who was much older than the two of you and one that you had maybe seen once or twice in your entire time of knowing Johnny, showed up.

At first you didn't think much of it, especially when everyone was happy to see him.

"There's the kid. Steamin' Jesus, you've grown," he greeted Johnny when a big hug.

He didn't pay much attention to you.

Instead he talked Johnny's ear off. Caught up with him as if the two talked regularly, told him a couple stories about his recent military excursions, which explained the absences, and joked with him.

You tried to join in, showing interest since Johnny was and since it was his family, but they talked over you, as if they both had forgotten you there.

As if Johnny had forgotten all about you.

It stung a little but you couldn't blame him, it was his cousin. This was a family get together he had a right to spend it with his actual family and not you.

So instead you left them alone without excusing yourself and talked to someone else. You got more food, played games with his other younger cousins, and eventually found yourself anxiously waiting alone.

It was late and you were supposed to be back home because you had to be up early tomorrow. Johnny was supposed to drive you, but after waiting for nearly an hour and a half, you came to the conclusion that he had forgotten.

"Oh, pet are you still here?" His mother gave a concerned look but you gave her a weak smile. "He's still talking with his cousin..."

You just shrugged. You were more hurt now and too afraid to open your mouth in case it gave it away.

It was his cousin, you reminded yourself. He hadn't seen him a long time.

"I can take ya home, it's dark out." His mother offered but you shook your head.

"It's not a far walk."

You didn't miss the worried look she gave you or the underlying annoyance she had in her eyes that wasn't directed towards you.

You closed your back door when Johnny called you. You didn't say anything when you answered.

"Mam said you walked home, I thought I was taking ya?" He asked immediately and you clenched your jaw.

"It's fine." You dismissed him with the best neutral voice you could.

On the inside you were hurt. He ignored you all evening and only said something to you as soon as you were gone. You weren't sure if you wanted to tell him off or just brush it under the rug.

"Anyway, I wanted to tell ya that I'm going Herefordshire with ma cousin this weekend-"

"I thought we were going to the lake this weekend?"

Silence. You could feel and hear your heartbeat in your ears your vision slowly blurring.

"No, that's not-oh it was this weekend." He sounded almost...disappointed by the thought.

You were ready to just end the night.

"It's fine," you lied and swallowed the lump in your throat.

"You sure?"

You wanted to say no, that you were a little hurt and pissed off he not only ignored you the entire evening but was now ditching the plans the two of you had made weeks in advance, but you didn't.

In hindsight it wouldn't have made a difference.

"Yeah." You lied again.

"Thanks, bonnie!" You could hear the smile on his face. "I'll see ya at school tomorrow."

"Okay-"

Johnny ended the call before you could even say anything.

You spent the rest of the night in your room clutching your bunny very close to your chest, unable to sleep due to your racing mind.

masterlist

A/N: i took some inspo from his wiki

[murdrdocs]

fully charged | f. odair

description. a grueling week spent in the arena where you thought about two things, survival and finnick odair, has come to an end, leaving you to make your way back to finnick's arms to finish what you both started.

aka part 2 to saber tooth

includes. SMUT 16+, fem!reader, reader has hair to wash, loss of virginity, unprotected p in v sex (don't do this irl), fingering, super soft finnick, brief mention of trauma from the games, finnick loves consent ! (so do i), switches pov for a line but don't focus on that okay focus on the sex, not proofread but its 3 am

a/n: i stayed up super late to finish this and i didn't do my homework so don't ever say i never do anything for yall (i wasn't gonna do my work anyway and i was gonna stay up but shh). title from disco tits by tove lo

word count: 5.0k+

Blood on your hands, a headache that makes your ears ring and your vision spin, a simultaneous feeling of indescribable hunger and tear-inducing nausea, but the only thing on your mind is Finnick. 

The Capitol airlift coming to the area was quick, and you’d never been happier to leave somewhere. You don’t look down at the open meadow that you’d spent the last days in. You look up into the jet, both joyed and disappointed to see the nurses and medics who awaited you. 

Hours of injections and force feedings and encouragement to sleep later, and you were finally closer to Finnick than you had been in the last week. 

The little notes he sent through sponsored care packages gave you the strength to make it out of there, and now that you are out, just the thought of seeing him is what keeps you on your feet. 

“And everyone is so thrilled to have you back. There is a feast planned later tonight, and another for when you get home to Four, and of course a housewarming party to get you settled into the Village,” Mitch, your escort, rambles on as he leads you through the train cars, all the way to your personal area. Through each car that you walk through, your eyes scan the area for the golden blonde boy that you’d been happiest to see. And when you come up empty again and again, your heart feels as if it shrinks. 

“But first, you need a shower. No offense,” Mitch smiles, his hands on your shoulders to turn you around to face the bathroom. 

“None taken,” you mumble. Truth be told, you had more things on your mind to worry about other than how you smelt. The sound of Mitch’s dress shoes clacking against the floor announces his intended departure, but you turn around to stop him before he can leave. 

“Yes, dearie?” 

“Do you know where Finnick is?” The train hadn’t started moving yet, you were still at the Capitol’s station, so if Finnick were not aboard yet there was still time for him to join. 

“Um, no.” Mitch looks disappointed by his own answer. “He said he had business to take care of and he might be traveling home with us. But I do not know for sure.” 

Mitch’s answer leaves you with an intense feeling of loneliness, but you push it down as you make your way to the bathroom. 

The shower is hotter than it needs to be, but the sting on your skin is welcomed. You scrub along your body with the exfoliating cloth until it’s visibly irritated, and even then, you continue a few more times. Images of the arena attempt to surface, a knot in your throat with each memory and self-deprecating thought that accompanies it, but you push it down with another pump of shampoo and you wash it away with the suds. 

You’re on your third round of washing your hair whenever the whirring sound of the door to the bathroom opening meets your ears. 

You stop rinsing, your eyes opening to look out around you. An unusual thick cloud of steam clouds the pristine area, you squint as you attempt to see who, or even what, has entered. 

You come up short. Not knowing who was there makes you anxious and you regress into the thought process that you’ve become well acquainted with.

Your eyes scan the spacious shower, looking for something sharp. There’s nothing to defend yourself with, which means you’ll have to rely on your hands. Quickly, you rinse them in the running water, getting rid of the suds, and then you reach out to pull the shower door open. 

“Hello?” you ask, your voice stronger than it would have been if you were in this predicament 7 days ago. 

It’s silent for a few seconds, then a breath is heard, followed by a smooth timbre. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” 

Finnick. 

He stands in the corner of the bathroom, just out of sight from where the shower had you angled. His back is turned, leaving you to see the linen of his shirt and the dark-honey blonde of the bottom of his hair as his head is bowed. You want nothing more than to see his face. 

Your foot reaches out to meet the plush rug, but you stop when the cool outside air enters the shower and you’re reminded that you’re naked, wet, and your hair is nowhere near presentable. But in the grand scheme of things, none of that matters. 

So you step out of the shower, your feet sinking into the plush rug and your heart banging against your chest, and a smile reaches your face when you say, “Finnick.” 

His head turns first, then his body, and you’re met with the sea-green eyes that you’ve thought about every night since that night. His eyes stay on your face, even though you’re completely nude. 

You barely feel any shame or insecurity. 

“Hey,” he says again, his pretty pink lips pulling into his own smile. 

“Hi.” 

There’s a few moments of serene silence, both of you just taking in the presence of the other, and then Finnick makes the move to cross the room. 

His hands lift and his palms find the wet skin of your cheeks. He smiles. He blinks. Then he moves in. 

When Finnick kisses you, it’s like nothing else in the world even exists. The entire Universe in that moment is just you and Finnick, two people who have always existed together. Nothing else. 

His lips gently pull from yours, but he doesn’t go far, his forehead resting against yours. 

“It’s good to see you again,” he tells you. 

“I’ve missed you,” you tell him. 

He smiles. “I’ve missed you too.” 

Finnick lets you finish cleaning up. He was going to leave the bathroom, but when you asked him to stay, your eyes welled up with tears and your voice cracked and he wanted  to stay anyway, so he planted himself right outside of the shower then. 

It takes a while for you to get ready, you spent most of the time scrubbing dirt out from under your fingernails and trying to scrub out the stench that permeated inside of your nose, but dinner was delayed for you, and no one complained. It’s when you were sitting at the table, eating food that was somehow still warm, with Finnicks hand on your knee and proud and sympathetic looks from your stylist and escort, that you realize that things are going to revolve around you for a while. 

A nightmare plagued sleep on the train, a welcome party at the station in Four, a housewarming party in a renovated mansion in the Victors Village, another dress from your stylist, and a large dinner with friends you haven’t considered friends in years, with your family and Finnick in attendance. 

And now you’re alone again. 

Not exactly alone. Finnick’s sitting outside of your new bathroom, waiting for you, which is as alone as you’re going to get for a while. 

Your makeup is gone, you’re out of the dress and into a pair of comfortable pajamas, and there’s a nervous anticipation in your chest. Not the kind of nervous anticipation that you’d felt in the area, but the kind that you felt last week when Finnick came to visit. 

The kind where you hoped that something sentimental was going to happen soon, and as you pull the door open and come face to face with Finnick who sits at the edge of your bed, you knew that something sentimental was going to happen. 

“Hey,” he scoots over to make room for you. 

You take the space beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. “Hi.” His shoulder works as a comfortable pillow, which you’d dreamed of for many nights when you only had grass as an actual pillow. . “Are you planning to stay here tonight?” You lift your eyes to look at him, a fluttery feeling spreading all over your body when you see that he was already looking at you. 

He blinks, his tongue moistens his lips. “If you’d like me to.” 

You hum. “I would.” 

“What would I do?” 

A shrug from you. “Help me settle in.” 

“Oh so you’re using me staying as an excuse to have me kill bugs, chase out mice, dust the corners.” 

You laugh. It feels good to laugh. 

“Maybe.” Your shared laughter dies down and a still silence places itself over the room. You stare ahead, take a deep breath, and say, “And to keep me warm.” 

Finnicks hand snakes around your waist, cupping the outside to pull you flush into his side. His lips are against the crown of your head, pressing a kiss into your hair. You can feel them move when he assures you. “That’s what I’m best at.” 

There’s a bit of silence that you use to turn yourself to fully face Finnick. His hand gravitates to your lower back with the movement. 

He stares at you expectantly, and you smile gently. “Thank you,” you tell him. 

His eyebrows furrow. “For?” 

A small shrug from you. “Keeping me alive … in there. And for being my best friend and so much more that I can’t think of right now.” 

Both of Finnick's hands cup your cheeks and his forehead knocks into yours, then his nose, then his lips. 

He kisses you softly, pressing a single kiss into your parted lips, the two pairs molding and sticking together as if they were always meant for each other. You melt into the second kiss, thankful to get to feel this again. A thought arises within you, one that details you and Finnick getting to do this for the rest of your lives, no longer plagued with the thought of being reaped. If that’s something he also wants. 

The kiss is nice, but it’s also not quite what you want. 

You communicate that by tilting your head, letting your hands meet the back of Finnick’s head, and scooting yourself closer. 

Finnick mimics your new found ferocity, but it seems like he’s still not getting it. You push your chest into his, you slide your hands down his torso, letting them rest on his abdomen, and then he pulls away and furrows his eyebrows. 

Now he’s getting it. 

“Are you sure? Are you ready?” 

You can feel the touch of his hand on your lower back getting lighter as if he’s anticipating your denial. But you nod, no hesitance behind the movement, and since you know he’s going to want to hear it verbally, you part your slick lips and say, “I’m sure. And I’m ready.” 

Finnick has you on your back in the center of your bed quickly. You’re still fully clothed, but obviously not for long with the way his large hand is roaming under your shirt. The other rests beside your head, pressed into the pillow and keeping him afloat above you. 

You can feel the ghost of his knee between your parted legs and he’s too far away. You need him closer. You need his chest against yours instead of a few inches away, you need his knee pressed against your center, you need his entire being to become fused with yours. 

There’s no way for you to communicate that when he’s kissing you so hard that you consider the possibility that your lips would bruise. Not that you’re complaining one bit.

Finnick pulls away from your lips to press kisses into your jaw and neck, where he switches from simple kisses to sucking actual bruises into your skin. The feeling of his lips sucking the skin and his teeth nipping stings, not in the way an ant bite does, but in the way that has your back arching and you feel the scratch of the linen of Finnick’s shirt against the cotton of yours. 

You let out a breath, not meaning for it to sound as much of a moan as it does, but Finnick’s lips curl up against your skin. He presses a final, chaste kiss into the bruise that you know to be forming, and he leans back to give you a full look. 

“Can you take this off for me?” His hands tug at your shirt once. 

You nod, sitting up to fill the space that Finnick makes by leaning back, and you swiftly pull the shirt over your head. For the sake of comfort, you’d opted out on a bra tonight, and the decision is clearly thanked by Finnick. 

He’s staring, marveling, at your bare chest, taking in the sight. You know the way he’s looking at you is a good sign, but you can’t help but feel a little insecure, something in your mind telling you to cover up. Your hands twitch at your sides to make the move to your chest, but then Finnick’s speaking. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He says it like he means it. There’s something in you, the same thing that tried to convince you to cover up, that tells you that he doesn’t mean it. He’s just saying it in the heat of the moment. 

But your better judgment comes into play then and it notices that Finnick’s tell still isn’t there. He’s still telling the truth. 

You smile, just a little bashful, and reach to tug at the end of Finnick’s shirt. 

“Even the playing field, Odair.” He does as you say, his hands finding the neck hole of his shirt and pulling it over his head, tossing it off the side of your bed. 

Then his lips are back on your skin, kissing at your collarbone and steadily moving down your chest. He’s just pressing little kisses along your skin, not staying in one place too long, but the anticipation swims low in your stomach and makes you push your chest up into the air, waiting for Finnick to hopefully reach the destination you want him to go to. 

When he does, when his lips wrap around your nipple, you sigh blissfully. 

He gives the bud the same treatment that he delivered onto your neck, sucking and nipping, just a tad more gentle. All the while, his sea-green eyes stare up at you, gauging your reaction, seeing if he’s doing the right or the wrong thing. 

Your face is one of nothing but pleasure, mouth parted, eyes closed, eyebrows pinched together with enough tension to tell him that he’s doing right, not wrong. 

He switches to the other bud, and his hand trails down to the elastic waistband of your pants. Your hips wiggle, impatience finding you quickly, and then his hand slips past the elastic and his middle finger nudges between your clothed folds. 

You shiver, a quiet mewl escaping past your lips. Your sounds only increase in volume when Finnick adds his ring finger and works then up and down your slit, circling them at your clit when they reach that point, and then working their way back down and teasing your hole. 

When Finnick’s warm mouth detaches from your hardened bud, the cool air hits it and sends goosebumps onto the finest layer of your skin like a wave. They multiply when he speaks. 

“You’re so wet, darling,” His fingers trail back up to circle your clit languidly, not fast enough to give you any real satisfaction, but enough to let you know that they’re there. “‘S all for me?” He’s teasing, pulling your leg, because who else would it be for? 

The corner of his lips pull up into a smirk, confirming your suspicions, and you mean to say something equally as teasing back, something that would make his smile drop. 

But your mouth works faster than your brain. 

“Of course, Finn. Always all for you.” 

He swears under his breath, his fingers stopping right on the hidden nub. He blinks, inhales, then fixes his gaze on your expectant one. 

“You really mean that?” His hand flexes beside your head and you turn your head, your eyes fixed on him, and press a kiss into his forearm. 

“I do.” 

Finnick has your pants and panties off and thrown to the opposite side of your bed so quickly that you barely have time to process it. You only start to process how bare you are whenever his thick fingers come back to your center and this time, you feel them. 

You feel the rough skin of his finger pads, the way they glide through your slick, toy with your clit, then sink down to begin to probe at your entrance. 

You let him, your legs falling open even more when his middle finger sinks in to the first knuckle. He glances at you before he continues, and you’re in a state of bliss already, so he continues until the deft digit is sheathed completely inside your walls. 

Finnick only fucks you with the single finger for a few moments, then you’re reaching down and wrapping your hand around his wrist, pushing your hips into his hand, silently telling him that you want more. 

So he adds another. 

He curls them, reaches them deep inside of you, searches for the spot that he’ll memorize for minutes from now when you get the real deal. 

His watchful eyes search your reactions, too. He watches the way your tongue darts out to lick your lips and the way your lips part and how your eyebrows pinch together more and more until there. He finds it and your back arches off the bed and your hiss turns into a pretty cracked moan. 

“Right there?” he asks for confirmation. 

“Right there.” 

You feel lips kiss your inner thigh and then Finnick’s focusing on that spot a few more times, then he’s abandoning it. You hold in your disappointed sigh, but the feeling of Finnick separating his fingers, scissoring you open, is one that’s greatly welcomed as a replacement. 

You gasp, moan, your back arches, your nails dig into the sheets. Finnick’s other hand goes to your clit, rubbing little circles. “Holy shit, Finn.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Better than my own.” 

An image of you in a similar position, but with your own hands between your legs and not Finnick’s, flashes in his mind and is that a sight to see. 

“Are you close, sweetheart?” 

You nod, expecting Finnick to work you harder, faster, to guide you to the edge. He does the exact opposite. 

He pulls his fingers away from your cunt and your eyes open, staring down at him with bewilderment written all over your face. 

“You still want me to fuck you?” His eyebrows raise. 

You nod. “Yeah.” 

“Okay then.” 

You watch him stand, slip his pants and boxers off, and you shamelessly stare at his dick, propped up on your elbows for an unobstructed view. 

The way it sits so prettily, erected, reaching right at his abdomen. Flushed the same pink as his lips at the head, leaking a picturesque drop of precum. You could just sit and marvel at Finnick’s cock for a while longer than you’re given. But he bends down to search the pockets of the pants he came in, and swears when he doesn’t find what he needs. 

“What? What is it?” You think you know what it is but you’re really hoping you don’t. 

Finnick stands straight again and looks at you, obviously dejected. “No condoms.” 

Fuck. 

You’re silent, attempting to think of a solution. 

“I could just go to mine, it's right next door, you know. I’ll be quick.” 

He could. But you truthfully don’t care at this moment. 

You’re sure there has to be some sort of morning after preventative that you could get your hands on now that you're Victor, and Finnick looks so appetizing just standing there, there’s no way you would be able to survive the few minutes that you would have to sit there without him. 

“I don’t care if you don’t.” Your admission has his eyes widening just a bit, then his eyebrows furrowing and his face scrunching into one of slight worry. 

“Are you sure? This isn’t something lighthearted.” 

You nod. “I’m sure. There’s a preventative out there, right?” He thinks for a second, then nods. “Then I’m sure.” 

Finnick climbs back onto the bed, wraps one hand around his cock and the other around the outside of your thigh. He glances at you, “Just relax, okay?”, and then back at your cunt when you nod. 

He lines himself up and your immediate reaction is to tense up, but you take a breath, and relax, and then he breaches. 

It’s painful, not in the way that you’ve felt pain just days ago, but in a stinging way. You can feel yourself stretching around him, allowing him in, and every few inches he stops to remind you to breathe. 

You feel like his member is endless, there always seems to be more and more, but he’s almost there now, home stretch, but you don’t know that until he tells you. 

“Breathe with me, sweetheart. ‘M almost there,” he says, his eyes locking into yours as he takes a deep inhale, nodding when you mirror the action, then he slowly exhales. When you do the same, he slides all the way in until you can feel the base of his dick pressed against your mound. 

When he’s all the way in, the curls at the base of his dick tickling you, you’re able to focus on how good it feels to have Finnick Odair’s dick nestled inside of your walls. The stretch is addicting. Your head’s spinning, your mouth salivating, and you just know that you’re gonna be addicted after this. 

Now that he’s situated within you, Finnick brings his forearm back to push into the pillow beside your head. He presses a kiss to your cheek, then to your lips when you turn your head. 

“Let me know when it’s okay to move, okay?” 

You nod. “You can move.” 

Finnick seems a little unsure, but your hips wiggle and you moan and he takes your word for it. 

He starts slow, pulling out halfway then pushing back all the way in. You’re so receptive, little breaths and moans leaving your lips and immediately meeting his ears. He relishes in the sounds, the auditory display of satisfaction going right down to his groin, encouraging him to fuck you harder and deeper. 

He starts to pull out more, inch by inch, and push back in with more force. There’s no way for you to describe the feeling you’re in other than euphoric. For a second, you search your brain for descriptors, ways you can put the feeling to words for when you think about it later on, but you come up so short and Finnick is making you feel so good that you forget what you were thinking about in the first place with the next thrust. 

“Doing okay?” 

“More than okay, Finn.” 

“Yeah? Tell me about it.” He lifts his face to level it with yours, green eyes staring at you, watching you get lost in his gaze and blink yourself awake multiple times. “You can do it, baby. Tell me how good I’m making you feel.” 

Is he reading your mind? 

“You’re an asshole.” He laughs. 

“That’s no way to treat the guy making you feel this good, is it?” 

He tilts his head, waiting for your response. You shake your head, back to being fucked out, and Finnick decides to let you off the hook for now. 

He leans down, pushing his lips to yours and letting you sloppily kiss him while his hips rock into yours. 

You didn’t think there was a way that you could feel better than this, but Finnick shifts his hips when he pulls out, then he pushes back in with more assurance and confidence and he finds that same spot and your back arches, your chest pushing into his. 

“That’s it,” Finnick coos, either talking to himself or you, you’re not really sure. Either way, you still nod. 

The linen sheets rub at your back, the crisp pillow cover crinkles with each thrust that sends you up the bed a little more, you can feel your pussy leaking around Finnick. You can smell him, a mix of the smell of the sea and a musk that is so unique to him that you want the scent to live permanently in your nose. 

Your eyes are open, somehow, and you’re watching Finnick. The way the vein in his head pops out every so often, how his tanned skin looks in the low light of your bedroom, the way sweat reflects off of his forehead and a bead looks as if it’s going to trickle down and land onto your tit. You watch it, lost and mesmerized by everything that is Finnick Odair, and when it lands on your chest you just feel like he’s giving you even more of himself. 

You want to give him more of you, too, but you don’t know how. Not here, in this position, with this hazed state of mind, so you do what you can. You dig a hand in his hair, scratching at his scalp and pulling at the strands with just enough tension, and you arch your back from the lowest point, pushing your hips further into him. 

“You feel so good, sweetheart. One of a kind.” His hips are starting to speed up a bit, getting a little sloppier too if you really focus. But all you can focus on is the slight rasp in his voice when he praises you. “Don’t think I’ll ever be able to leave this pussy after this. Don’t think I’ll ever be able to leave you.” 

You know what he means. You’ve known Finnick most of your life, long enough to be able to read between lines that sometimes aren’t even there. You know what he means. 

You keen, the sound a little embarrassing but not enough for you to reflect on the thought for more than a second. 

“‘M close, Finnick.” You can feel it low in your belly, burning, begging for your attention. This build up feels different from the last, a little more urgent, maybe. A little more prevalent. 

This build up has you desperately chasing after it, terrified that you won’t catch it, that it’ll somehow slip past your grasp and you’ll be left unsatisfied. You know you don’t have to worry about that when Finnick’s the one making you feel so good. 

The hand on your thigh inches towards your core, his thumb singling out and connecting with your clit. It only takes a few tight circles and a few more expert thrusts for you to fall over the edge, your legs lifting, hooking behind Finnick’s back to keep him close to you. Not like he was planning to go anywhere. 

He feels so good like this, fucking you through your orgasm. You don’t want him to pull out, but you know he should. You know he has to. He tells you as much. 

“Squeezing me so hard, sweetheart. Fuck, I gotta … gotta pull out.” You really, really, don’t want him to, but you let your legs drop and Finnick pulls out and his hand wraps around his lubed up dick, pumping a few times and then he’s spilling warm spurts of cum over your tummy. 

You watch your stomach rise and fall rapidly with your breaths, the white substance glistening against your skin. Finnick watches it too, then he’s coming back for more kisses. 

These are a little less sloppy, a little more gentle, a little more loving. 

You feel yourself slipping out of it as he kisses you, your lips a little less receptive with each passing moment. Finnick notices and he pulls back, leaving you with one more chaste kiss before he’s leaving the bed and the sound of his feet on your hardwood lets you know that he’s moving towards your bathroom. 

You don’t bother opening your eyes, you just listen to the sound of the closet door opening, the sound of running water starting and stopping, more feet against hardwood, then you feel the bed dip with Finnicks weight. 

You flinch, then giggle, when the towel rubs at your inner thighs and then your stomach. 

Finnick giggles with you, and you feel so domestic, so loved and cared for. 

You peek your eyes open, watching the way he gently cleans you up. As if he feels eyes on him, he lifts his gaze, and smiles, dimples on display. 

“Hi,” he says. 

“Hi.” 

“Am I still invited to spend the night?” 

You pretend to think, but you’re too tired to even do that. 

“If you make me breakfast in the morning,” you settle on, your hands under the folded back sheets of your bed. 

You slip under the sheets and you watch Finnick carelessly throw the towel off to the side of the bed. Your mouth falls open. “And clean that up,” you add. 

Finnick doesn’t bother responding. He just climbs to the top of the bed, slips under the covers with you, and pulls you to his chest with a kiss to your head. 

Cuddled up with Finnick is a feeling you know you could get used to, and you hope you’ll be able to. You try not to think about how fleeting this could be. Instead, you force yourself to be optimistic, focusing on the riches you now have, and the beautiful home that’s on the beach and next to your best friend, and the way he’s holding you so securely to his chest, and the peaceful sleep that’s begging to be welcomed into the equation. 

You decide to count it in, nestling even further into Finnick’s warmth and closing your eyes. 

They immediately reopen and squint at the corner to the left of your bed. 

“Finnick,” you whisper, continuing when he hums. “There’s a bug in the corner.” 

“Where?” 

You lift a finger, pointing to where it is. “Right there.” 

Finnick sighs and stands. 

“And pick that towel up while you’re at it please.”

[absurdthirst]

Do you think you could do one with the Pedro boys who are a/b/o and who have a omega reader in heat but she doesn't want to spend it with them but just be alone? If not that's totally cool and I love your writing:)

When You're In Heat & Want Nothing To Do With Him:

*** When reblogging or talking about Omegaverse, please remember that ‘a/b/o’ without the slash punctuation marks (/) is considered a slur for the Aboriginal people in Australia.

**Female Reader

Javier Peña: Pouty for sure. He had even told Steve he was taking off work, dreaming of having you on his cock the entire time. Now his ass is traveling back to Medellín with Murphy in the passenger seat. Deciding that getting out of town was the best option.

Ezra: Now that's just not going to work for him, little bird. The aphrodisiac that your body produces calls to him like a siren. Beckoning him to take what your very nature wishes to give him. In that tent, there's no privacy. While Ezra might not lay a hand on you, he will not shut up about what he would do if you would give him permission.

The Mandalorian: Takes the kid, engages the ground security protocols on the Razor Crest and leaves. He will be back in 3-5 business days, with multiple bounties to throw into carbonite and then takes off for the next world on his parsec tour. He doesn't even seem mad about it, it just is what it is.

Pero Tovar: He still expects you to ride your horse. If you aren't needing to be holed up in a nest with his body wedged between your thighs, then you must be moving. He cannot lose more time on this journey to the East and you are attracting more alphas that he will just have to kill.

Frankie Morales: Confused. Wondering if everything that has happened has made you think that he's no longer your alpha or maybe not the alpha you want. He wants to talk to you about it, but he knows that you are vulnerable right now, so he packs up the kids and they all go stay at Uncle Benny's for a few days so you can be alone like you want.

Marcus Pike: He's disappointed. He had everything planned. He was going to make sure that your every need was met and you were in as little pain as possible as you worked through you heat. Instead of being able to do it in person, he decides that it might be best to sleep at the office until it passes so he doesn't overstep. However, he has meals delivered to you and your favorite ones at that.

Max Phillips: Tilts his head at you and gives you that fake pouty look. The one that says he doesn't believe you for a second. You don't want orgasm after orgasm? That's strange, and people said he's the one without a beating heart.

Dave York: Angry. He is not happy that you want nothing to do with him. He needs to take care of you and you are denying him that. In a huff, he takes on a target and takes his aggression out on them. It's a little more messy than his normal jobs.

Oberyn Martell: Finds it fascinating. You are a mystery. An omega who doesn't wish to be cared for by an alpha. He sighs, thinking that it's a pity, it would have been fun, but he leaves you in peace. He will spent the time in the whorehouse, drinking and fucking while you have your wish.

Zach Wellison: It hurts. It makes him think that he's not good enough and it will definitely tap into that inferiority complex that he had. But he will give you what you want, you won't see him for days while you are going through your heat.

Marcus Moreno: Doesn't understand it, but that's not for him to decide. If you don't want him around, he needs to figure out a game plan. Do you want to stay somewhere else? Do you want him and Missy to go to his moms? Once you tell him exactly what you want, he's doing that and nothing more.

Max Lord: You were in heat? He didn't even notice. He was too busy trying to save his company.

Javi Gutierrez: Heartbroken that he cannot take care of you himself. He wants to pamper you and comfort you. Instead, he sends you to one of the best resorts for Omegas who wish to ride out a heat without an Alpha. Leaving them to pamper you.

Dieter Bravo: Whiny. He can smell how horny you are. How can you not want him to fuck you? Keep you full of his cock and cum? Aren't you about to tear your skin off???? You actually have to throw him out of the damn house in order to have a moment's peace.

Tim Rockford: Honestly? That's a relief. He's got this case that is eating up the hours and he doesn't have time to focus on you. He ends up sleeping at the office for two weeks straight and you have to call him to come home.

Joel Miller: He thinks you're stupid. He knows you will suffer more, but if that's what you want, be stubborn. He will give you the space you need, but he will also be standing guard around the decrepit house you are holed up in, making sure that no other alpha gets a whiff of you.

Marcus Acacius: Doesn't understand why you would not want him to be around you. But he's not going to fight you on this. He has his most trusted guards posted around his villa, they are betas so you will not be harassed by them. They will protect you because he has already been called before the emperors to discuss yet another bloody campaign on behalf of Rome's glory.

[pendarling]

Praise

Their hand skimmed Hero's shoulder as they pushed back their hair along their neck. A shiver ran up their spine, and cold eyes welcomed the feeling. 

"You did so well today, didn't you, Hero?" When Villain discovered their best weapon against Hero was themselves, they'd lead an expedition of the heart. The best way to win wasn't only through physical confrontations; it looked like Hero was utterly unprepared.

It might've been an unsettling solution to a more significant issue; manipulation was not an easy path to learn to exploit for gains, but this was a harmless little game to Villain.

For Hero, on the other hand, their emotions were all over the place every time Villain made their next move. It wasn't like this until the sudden tactics change was introduced.

With their heart thumping in their chest, Hero tried to simulate resilience to the enemy. Villain had held a dagger to their throat as they were still recovering from the last compliment. Their voice held onto their throat, too afraid to speak.

"I always did admire your skills, Hero." They whispered gently next to their ear. Hero could feel their back pressed against Villain's chest with such intensity that it made it harder to decipher their intentions. 

Villain grasped tightly at their waist to prevent them from moving and continued feeding them detailed lies.

All of them weren't complete lies, however. They honestly did believe Hero was one of a kind, but more in the sense that they were a nuisance. 

"Are you trying to seduce me or convert me to your side?" Hero smirked tentatively; their body froze in anticipation as soon as Villain slid their arm around them and came to the front of their face smoothly, still aiming the dagger close to their throat.

"I was hoping you'd ask." 

Hero felt their cheeks rise in temperature. Their heart ached in a pain they couldn't bear as they forced the feeling down. The proximity to them didn't help either; maybe they did want to get cut after all, and perhaps they wanted to get hurt. Whatever kept pulling them in had locked them into a position of weakness. "So this was all…"

"Not all, my dear." They fiddled with the dagger. "But you shouldn't believe everything anyone tells you." They rolled their eyes and watched the crime fighter furrow their brows as a thought came over them.

Hero knew this was all a setup for their schemes, but when Villain had confirmed that all their praises were falsified to add to the game, a distressing emotion overtook their face. "I know you would never appreciate what's in front of you, but you really don't know me if you think that would work. "

Villain raised a brow, "Really now? Is that why you're trapped right where I need you?" They tapped Hero's nose playfully, 

"A small blunder for a large prize at the end."

"I guess you also love being rewarded too, huh? I can work with that."

Hero blushed but firmly remained grounded. "I'm not some kind of toy for you to play with, Villain."

"I know~" they chuckled, but Hero didn't buy it. "That's what makes you our city's favourite, isn't it? Those other heroes don't stand a chance against you, do they?"

They tried to push from their grip, but Villain was demanding and continued their fight. 

"Awfully clingy, hm?" They stared at each other with a tilted grin. If Villain would mess with their head, so could they.

Catching onto their new plot, Villain only excited the moment and pulled closer, "It's what you deserve after all that hard work. I know you want a little appreciation," Hero swallowed, their confidence now wavering, "Don't worry about it, dear."

Hero thought back to their earlier days as a hero. What little they could do was credited to more prominent heroes. Their acts of saviour went unnoticed for quite some time, so having Villain of all people notice did something to them they didn't expect. Their words failed them as their mind muddled.

"You're teasing me again." They whispered, this time with a look of disappointment. Although Villain recognized what they could do, these words all existed to coerce them into confusion, not to acknowledge their achievements.

It was evil. 

Self-centred.

Villainous.

Their rival frowned at the way Hero's voice shook in great despair, and this wasn't what they aimed for. Hero should've felt their ego boost enough for Villain to get away with all their plans. 

A simple few sentences couldn't have ruined them; it should've remade Hero.

"You're overthinking all of it. I just wanted to admire you-"

"I get it. So please, whatever this is…" their fragile mask fell apart as growing tears filled their vision. "You win, alright?"

They couldn't have been any more wrong. Villain placed the dagger away and inspected the scene playing in front of them. Their leather glove wiped down a tear with casual comfort. 

"Hmm?" Villain's eyes widened only slightly, not entirely believing what the results had come to. They'd assumed this would end much differently, but it had an unexpected consequence. "Feeling overwhelmed?" They murmured.

"Shut up."

Villain couldn't understand how their words could be misconstrued enough to impact Hero terribly.

They were all praises directed at commemorating Hero's work; it was nothing too special, only vague references and general connections to Hero.

Hero pulled themselves away from their arms and wiped their tears with frustration, "I'm letting you go. So leave before I regret anything."

"You really must not know me very well, love."

"I know you're not sincere."

They walked to their side and pulled their hands away from their face by the wrists, "Please, I'm not oblivious."

Hero's eyes met the ground in protest, "You could've done this any other way, and you chose to mess with my head?" Their heart raced rapidly. Even when they were mad, they were overjoyed at the evident concern from their adversary.

"You genuinely believe I think so lowly of you?" They leaned in. "Hero, the same one that deciphered my codes when no one could? Saved neighbourhoods alone and still made it home before dinner?" They raised their chin to meet eyes in the centre. "You do deserve all that attention." Their thumb circled their chin, "Though not everyone deserves you."

Hero had thought for a second that maybe they were still lying, still playing games with their head and leaving them to overthink it all later. It was better to stay in blissful ignorance than know; they nodded carefully, still doubtful but accepting of the words. 

~~~

MASTERLIST