#then despite everything the player chose

[beardedhandstoadshark]

Who’s fault is the genocide run’s outcome from Undertale?

The players. People love to frame Chara as that inherently evil character who manipulated Frisk or the player to go genocide, but in reality- who’s the one controlling the heart? Who’s deciding what ending to go with?

Who’s the one determined to keep going? =)

[reyalvr]

RUMORS!

I KNOW YOU HEARD THE RUMORS, YOU MUST GET OVER TO IT RIGHT AWAY!

synopsis ┊ ken sato- a remarkable name in the world of modern baseball- has graced japan with not only his presence, but also his skills as a key player for the yomiuri giants. from press conferences to media endorsements, it’s clear that his stardom has only intensified from his recent move. but what happens when you, his personal assistant, are left to deal with some more… serious rumors?

genre ┊ chaotic fluff, oneshot

pairing ┊ ken sato x gn-PA!reader

warnings ┊ mild cursing, ami is not the reporter depicted!

word count ┊ 2.2k

author’s note ┊ hiya! i recently found time to watch ultraman: rising and this fic was just writing itself in my head hehe… happy reading! (p.s. yes… the title was inspired from the new minions song)

THREE MONTHS. That was how long you had known baseball’s darling, Ken Sato. And in those three months, you had undergone every single PR nightmare you had ever conjured up in your mind prior to pursuing your career. You had worked with celebrities before- doing God knows what ‘til the waking hour on their every beck and call. But Ken, despite presenting himself as a laid back man, was an entirely new… experience. 

From the Kaiju attack at his first game under the Giants, to the continuous streak of losses throughout the first half of the season, it seemed like the Gods were against you as you did your damndest to handle the damage control on his reputation. His ego didn’t aid you either- having to spin and twist multiple incidents to get reporters and media outlets off his back. You weren’t exactly sure what it was that kept you from quitting all in all, but the longer you worked under him, the thinner your thread seemed to snap. 

You huffed an annoyed sigh into the cold air, picking up the pace as you jogged along the designated path by the bay. Your days off were scarce- not because of Ken’s schedule, but because of your own decision to be up to date with his spontaneous actions. Despite the rarity of solitude, you always managed to savor your time off. The music played at a mellow volume in your ears, the morning sun starting to warm your surroundings as you watched its rays splash hues of orange across the sky. 

Your felt your watch beep against your skin, signaling the end of your morning run. Pausing by the railing, you leaned against the old metal bars as you checked your stats. You swiped absent-mindedly on the screen of your smartwatch, scrolling once you were sure that everything was in order. There was one thing that caught your eye, though, as you noticed the red notification bubbles on your message app were continuously going up. It was odd, yes, but not odd enough to be out of the ordinary- at least in your line of work. 

Deciding not to bombard yourself this early in the morning, you opted to give everything a once-over once you made it back to your apartment. Whatever it was could wait- you were on your time and your pace. Besides, it couldn’t be that bad. Could it now?

IT DEFINITELY COULD, AND IT DEFINITELY WAS. You pushed on the gas as hard as you could, your tongue poking into your cheek as you continued to drive to Ken’s house. Of all the days that he decided to make perhaps the stupidest decision in his career, he chose today. Doing your best not to see red, you dialed his phone once more. The ringing played throughout your car as you maneuvered through the roads, and you swore for what felt like the umpteenth time that morning when you heard the tone of his voice message. 

Hey, it’s Ken. Leave a message after the beep, and I’ll be more than happy to ignore it! Said his usual arrogant tone playing before the generic beep. You gripped the steering wheel harder, huffing angrily as you sharply turned a corner. 

“Kenji Sato answer your goddamn phone right now! I’m ten minutes away from your house and when I get there, I better not be greeted with your supposed secret love child!” You yelled, pushing the red button once you finished your message. 

Ah yes. The centerpoint of your current rage: Ken’s “leaked” one-on-one with a reporter about juggling baseball and his homelife. Someone on Ken’s staff had sent the article in your shared work group chat, and nearly all of his personnel had directly messaged you about the issue. It was inevitable for celebrities to get into a scandal once or twice, but one on this level would not be an easy fit to overcome. 

You don’t exactly remember what you were doing prior to receiving the messages- all you knew was that you needed to get to Ken as soon as possible. Of course it just be a misunderstanding, hell it could even be a hoax! But knowing Kenji, anything could be possible. You neared the hill of his private property, driving past the gates as the security recognized your car.

You parked haphazardly at the front of his house, your feet stomping into the gravel as you made your way to his front door. His estate had numerous smart tech installed throughout his home, so you knew that each and every one of your moves were either being recorded or observed. You crouched slightly to be in frame with the doorbell’s camera, your anger slightly toned down.

“Ken.” You paused to narrow your eyes. “Open the door.”

For the next minute and a half you swore you could hear some sort of clash and bang from inside the house. You kept your arms crossed, raising your eyebrow from time to time when the clashing seemed to grow louder. After what felt like an eternity, the front door opened slightly. Not all the way, but just enough for Ken to peek out and smile at you- albeit nervously cocky.

The nerve.

“Hey, [Y/N]! What uh- what are you doing here?” He manages to cough out, roughly combing a hand through his hair. “I thought it was your day o-”

“Save it.” You reply, your gaze sharp enough to slice through whatever excuse he had at the ready. You held up your phone then, the article’s headline prominently bolded:

OUT OF LEFT FIELD: Ken Sato Strikeout? Nope! Love Child Home Run!

Ken’s head bent down to get a good look at what you were showing him, and you watched carefully as his eyes scanned over the article not once, but thrice. You let out an impatient hum, your mouth forming into a slight scowl as the both of you stood in silence. With your head tilted to the side, you dropped your hand back down and crossed your arms. 

“Are you just gonna stand there or are you going to start explaining to me what the hell you’ve been up to these past twenty-four hours?” You question, moving past him as you enter the house. 

Usually you would wait for Ken to let you in, but stalling would only hinder you from coming up with what to do next. The article had already been up for two hours, and you halted any statements from being made before you could get an explanation from Ken himself. He quickly tailed after you, nearly stumbling over himself as you stopped at his kitchen. You gripped the marble countertop, closing your eyes momentarily before you turned to face him once more. 

“[Y/N] I swear, it’s not as bad as you think it is,” Ken says as he tries to add reassurance to his tone, but it doesn't mask the lingering tinge of falsehood.

“Oh, really?” You say, your eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Because in the span of two hours I have had thirty news outlets blowing up my- your management team for a response!”

He opens his mouth to speak, but stops again midway when you continue. “The headline I showed you was local. I want you to tell me exactly how and why you were on the phone with a reporter talking about your private life at God knows what hour. Now.”

You can see him swallow, licking his lips after as he tries to form the right words. He blinks a bit before pinching the bridge of his nose, tilting his head up as he lets out a deep sigh. When he opens his eyes he’s still greeted with your restive stance. Still he remains slightly hesitant, but he does end up recalling the remnants of his conversation with a reporter he had met at one of the parties he attended. Ken goes on to explain that he had only seeked out advice. His schedule, his personal life- he needed an outlet. You can feel yourself slowly untense, though you continued to listen to make sure all your facts were straight.

When he finishes his retelling, he puts his hands up slightly- as if he were trying to put you at ease. “I swear, that’s all I said. I thought,” He pauses, his brows furrowing in a way that made you slightly mad at yourself from blowing up at him. “I just thought I could have a normal conversation for once. ‘Guess I was wrong.”

The warm lights cast a sombre shadow on his features, and from this angle you notice the worn out expression painted on his face. The bags under his eyes are darker than usual, not to mention the fading bruises from his latest altercation with one of players from his opposing team. In front of you was not Ken Sato, this was Kenji; Simply a man who was thrust into a new life without the needed support. 

“Well, no shit.” You say, finally breaking the silence, you fix your posture against the counter as you tone down the anger in your voice. “Jesus Ken, sometimes I wonder how you were able to maintain your career before me.”

At that he lets out a soft laugh, his dull expression slowly fading. “Yeah, I do too.”

You give him a puzzled look before you reply. “Are you mocking me?”

“No! No, I was being serious.” He says, his smile dropping slightly. “I know I haven’t been an easy task, hell you’re here on your day off for Christ’s sake.” 

You hum at his words, narrowing your eyes slightly as you push yourself off the counter with another awkward cough. In all ninety days of working under Ken Sato, never has the man gotten this sentimental with you. You decide not to linger on his words, your attention going back to the problem at hand. 

“Right, well,” You sigh, whipping your phone out in the process. “I need you to give me the name of that reporter. I’ll get the legal team to draft an NDA breach.” 

He furrowed his eyebrows then, looking at you as if you’d said something odd. “I didn’t make him sign an NDA though?”

You only give him a smile, a hint of confidence plastered on your lips. “I know. I have my ways, Sato.”

“You’re a pretty good assistant, then.” He replies, the corners of his lips going up slightly as he keeps his arms crossed. 

“I’m an excellent assistant.” You correct without looking at him, your fingers tapping away at your phone as you prepare the next steps of your plan. 

Ken can only chuckle in agreement, tapping his fingers on his forearm as he awaits your next set of instructions. Within the next twenty minutes you’ve sent out the necessary details to your team, your legs kicking as you sit on one of his bar stools. He’s stood across from you, leaning on the countertop looking at you intently as you explain the response plan. 

“And lastly,” You say, sliding out your hand. “Give me your phone.”

 His head tilts, the same confused expression on his face. “Why?”

“Just do it,” Your hand curls, motioning for him to hand his phone over. “No, I am not installing a monitor.” You add when you see his mouth open to interrogate you. 

He slides his phone over with a defeated huff, and you open a new contact page on his contacts. “If you need to talk, do it with someone who won’t leak your shit.” You say, sliding back his phone when all your details are settled.

“I have your number though, don’t I?” Ken questions, looking over at the number you inputted. 

“You had my work number. Now you have my personal phone.” You point your finger at him before continuing. “Don’t abuse it. I’m still your assistant.” “Wasn’t gonna, sweetheart.” He says, an amused smirk mixing in with his addled look. 

You quirk your eyebrow at the nickname. You shake your head, hopping off the stool as you make your way back to the front door. Ken follows behind you, hands in his pockets as he watches you leave. Before you can open the door though, you look back at him one last time. 

“I mean it, Ken.” You say, making sure it gets through his head. “You have a problem, tell me. You need a solution, you tell me.”

“I know, I know.” He gives you a tight-lipped smile, nodding towards the door. “Go enjoy the rest of your day off before I start thinking you care about me.”

“I do. It’s my job to care about you, Ken.” You reply, giving him a look before you open the door. “Whether you like it or not, I’m your lifeline. At least until you get rid of me, which won’t be happening for a good while.”

“Oh yeah?” He jests, his cocky demeanor slowly coming back. “‘You so sure about that?”

“Extremely sure.” You’re standing outside now, slowly walking backwards. “Twenty minutes ago people thought you had a secret love child and that you were a terrible father. Now you’re back on the face of KFC as baseball’s darling.” 

He’s taken aback. Was he actually booted off of his collaborations? He hastily checked his phone, scrolling through all his platforms. To his surprise, he was greeted with… his usual feeds. No sight of the article, no lingering gossip. His ads had doubled, his partnerships boosted on the products he had endorsed. He looked back up to say something, but you had already started your car. You backed out his estate, giving him a smile through the tinted glass of your windshield. 

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. You were right. But who was he kidding?

You always were.

[vigilskeep]

I just started playing a Crow Rook and literally WHAT is going on between Rook & Viago. Why is he so worried about them, why does he care?? It’s not like they’re actually his kid or something…? Rook could probably even be his same age. & we know it’s not a romantic thing! Would love to know your thoughts on it. It’s giving me Hawke & Meeran for some reason lmao

i think they left this open to player headcanon in a way that i personally find delightful and entertaining. the incontrovertible canon facts are that he worries about them, that he is distinctly less bearable when they’re not around, that he has so much faith in them that he puts all their failures down to them being thoughtless or acting out on purpose, and that he expresses all of this via frustration when it’s clearly love. why and how we got to this point is up to you!

so i can only really talk about how i’ve been interpreting that. to Me, viago is so uptight and distrustful that i would struggle to believe in this dynamic if he hadn’t known rook for a really long time. which makes sense, because crows who belong to a house grow up together. i mentioned this way back when we first saw footage of him with rook de riva, but to me he talks to you a lot like an older family member who still kind of thinks of you as a kid. i read into it as him acting sort of like the equivalent of an older brother with a big like 5 or 10 year age gap, but that is obviously dependent on your rook’s age and feelings

i am going to delve into closely-canon-based headcanon territory for a moment but show my workings as i do it. viago is not from a crow family like lucanis. he is not related to whoever was his predecessor as house de riva’s guildmaster. he is a royal bastard who elected to join the crows rather than be exiled, because that is, for some fucking reason, the system they have in place. since his memories prior to the crows are distant boyhood ones, and the crows typically start training early, i think we can guess that he was at most a teenager when he joined the house

please take a moment to picture lanky teenage viago de riva, with all his distrust and temper, accustomed until now to certain noble comforts, terrible at making friends, inclined less towards physical strength and more towards poisons and the fantasy equivalent of excel spreedsheets. does anyone honestly think for a second that when this kid arrived, all house de riva’s scrappy cutthroat embittered crow recruits didn’t immediately smell blood in the water? does anyone honestly think he would have had a good fun time or been well-liked? that he eventually rose to talon by asking nicely or indeed anything other than his ability to cultivate fear as the foremost poisoner in the entire antivan crows? does anyone, for that matter, believe that every crow knows how good at poisoning viago de riva is because his afaik unmentioned predecessor died of super 100% natural causes?

and if rook de riva grew up with viago—which as i said, makes sense!—that would mean they were there. if they’re close enough now to, despite everything they did, have no fear of their talon and for him to be completely incapable of anything harsher than calling them an idiot, isn’t it reasonable to assume they must have been, then, the one person he had? the person who chose and kept choosing to stand by him during all that, when he was the easiest target in the house and it was still a very foolish gamble to make. young and impulsive, sure, but who else would have backed him? young and impulsive, but also so brilliant and determined that he firmly believes there’s no dragon they couldn’t chase away. if we accept all those workings, isn’t the question less why does he love them, and more: how could he not?

[strwbmei]

summary: what could've happened if angell chose to be selfish for once

contains: desperate/emotional sex, transfem!angell, fem!reader, angell tops, marking, creampie, cunnilingus, fingering, angst no comfort, whatever the opposite of reunion sex is, parting sex???, mentions of crying but not in a sexy way, mentions of blood (also not in a sexy way), tw kidnapping, but you kind of learn to live with it, whatever the hell is going on in angell's event, everything is consensual and soft despite the alarming tags, mentions of drugs but it's unrelated to the smut, unresolved feelings on both sides, tw murder unrelated to smut, devirginifying sex i forgot what it was called, set in between Ditty Nightsong and Angell's interrogation

pairing(s): angell x chief!reader

a/n: I HAD to write this after finishing her event. Seeing Angell and the chief slowly get along despite their circumstances was such a treat. Also, first PTN fic!

You're tidying Angell's room up, careful to not make any noise since you don't want to wake her. Seeing the piles of pillows and clothes on the floor, you can't help but sigh. How has she lived like this for so long?

A faint song plays in the background. It's obvious the record player has seen better days—it's one of the more used appliances in this house. The song playing is the one Angell listens to while on the job. Huh.

Days are passing by, living this lie,

Not knowing what we're looking for,

As you dust off the furniture, you can't help but smile faintly. A change of pace like this is nice once in a while. Your only worries are preparing meals and doing maintenance around the house, which Angell doesn't even require you to do. Just something to keep you busy, you suppose.

It helps that she isn't a picky eater. Despite your lackluster culinary skills, Angell finishes each meal without complaint. She's even made a few positive comments lately. Maybe you should try making a meal for the sinners once you return to the MBCC.

Oh. Right. You're returning to the MBCC.

Gray, these walls are gray and there's no sky.

There is no hope, there is no soar.

I know somewhere there must be more.

It feels... weird to admit, but you've grown fond of this lifestyle. A domestic life with Angell like this is comforting, as long as you don't consider the fact that she'll definitely hand you over to her client as soon as she gets in contact with them.

Maybe you're just like the goldfish in her apartment, swimming blissfully in their tank as they stay oblivious to the outside world. You doubt Angell would be able to take care of them if she moves houses again.

You gather the clothes from the floor, catching a whiff of dried blood and sweat. Yikes. You wouldn't be surprised if the tank top you were holding had a whole ecosystem inside of it. It wouldn't hurt to wash these later, you think to yourself.

Just as you're about to finish putting the clothes away, you feel someone suddenly pull you into a tight hug, as if you'd escape from their grasp otherwise. It's Angell. You can hear how shaky her breathing is. It seems she had a bad dream.

"Don't go,"

The words Angell had been holding herself back so desperately not to say inevitably leave her, like a clock knowingly marching towards the hour of its death. She's glad that you can't see her right now with how her lips are quivering. You can still feel her hands trembling around you, though.

It's all so stupid. Angell is so stupid. She let herself get used to you, your warmth, and your kindness akin to sunlight so bright it hurt her eyes. And where has that gotten her? Naive; borderline delusional. Possibly dead, too. What have you done to this assassin, Chief of the MBCC?

"Please."

You feel as if you're meeting Angell for the first time when she says this. She has never acted like a dangerous hitman at home, but she has never acted so... desperate, either. You don't mind seeing another side of her, but the sudden change in demeanor is perplexing.

"Angell?" You call out. The woman's grip on you gets ever so slightly tighter in response. "Everything's okay. I'm here." You're not going anywhere—or so you'd like to say. Your relationship with her, if you could even call it that, is already far too filled with lies for you to add one more.

You can feel Angell's muscles tense around you. She holds her strength back, protecting you as if you were but a candle flickering in the wind. You feel safe. "Sorry. Did I wake you up?" Although most of Angell's actions are obscured from your vision, you can feel her shake her head.

"Don't leave me."

The two of you are captive and captor. Not roommates, and most certainly not lovers for Angell to say such things. She could end your life at this very moment if she so wished. So why is it that Angell is the one who finds herself powerless in your grasp?

You stay silent. If you were being honest, you don't want to leave her either. But the world doesn't work that way. You have responsibilities; the both of you. There are more pressing matters for you to handle than adjusting the hands of a clock and feeding goldfish.

Angell knows this. She values professionalism and credibility far more than her personal preferences. That's the only reason why she kept you here in the first place. Which is why you don't understand what exactly has gotten into Angell; what has pushed her to give up her creed like this.

Sensing the mutual hesitation in the air, Angell pushes you down onto the bed. Her eyes are slightly swollen and red, as if she had just been crying. You wonder what she had been dreaming about. You want to comfort her.

In this state, she'll listen to whatever you say, whatever falsehoods you feed her. Tell Angell everything will be alright and that your time together won't end. She'll believe you this once, even if it leads to her death.

You're pinned under Angell's weight, but you aren't afraid. There's something about her that ironically makes you feel safe, despite how aloof she can be. Angell doesn't shy away from your touch, either, even if she knows that you could use your shackles on her. "Angell..." Your hand reaches up to cup her cheek. She instinctively leans into it. "You're not alone anymore."

Angell's eyes widen uncharacteristically from your words. She tries to act unaffected, but you feel her breath hitch. Is it true? The walls she had built around herself to shield herself from others had eventually turned into a prison isolating her from the rest of the world. Could Angell... really break them down?

She does what feels most natural and leans in to seal your lips in a passionate kiss. It's desperate like a symphony of sorrow, yet as gentle as if she were handling a delicate flower. Angell's inexperience is clear.

How unfair. A kiss is something that you should only share with someone that you love.

And still, you return it just the same. You mirror her fervor as you chase after her lips, your elbows propped on the mattress to hold you up. Its softness and warmth is a pleasant surprise. Most likely because Angell only used to sleep on the couch before you came into her life.

She detaches herself from your lips after what felt like forever and a day. Angell's brows are furrowed, and her eyes are hesitant. She gazes at you as if to ask, is this really okay?

Whether she's asking if this is okay with you or if it's okay for her to indulge in her desires for once, you have no idea. It doesn't matter. The answer to both questions remains the same.

This time, you're the one to pull her into a passionate make-out. Angell groans, eagerly savoring each kiss as if it'll be her last. You brush her hair away from her face.

"Everything will be alright." You promise, both to yourself and the to woman in front of you. But you're wrong. How could Angell ever be fine without you?

She can abandon this house, her pride, or even her life if need be. But you? Oh, god, not you. How could you get Angell used to your warmth and kindness, just to rip it all away from her?

It'd be less cruel to treat her with mockery and disdain. It's what Angell is used to and it's what she believes she deserves.

"No," she says firmly. She buries her face into your chest, her arms wrapped around your waist. "Don't go." For some unknown reason, Angell is convinced that you're going to leave.

There are still a few days until the "gig" she took expires, and even then, she can choose what she wants to do with you afterward. Angell could keep you locked up here for as long as she wants, and you wouldn't be able to do a thing.

But she isn't that kind of person.

Angell doesn't belong with those scum on the dark web. Her heart is unadulterated by the filth surrounding her, and despite how she acts, you know Angell loves helping people deep down.

"I'm here." You comfort her. Once again, you have to stop yourself from telling her that you'll stay. It seems you accidentally said that out loud, though. "...Liar." Angell mumbles, lips now trailing along your jaw and neck.

Sighing in bliss, you remove your coat to give her more space to work with. You toss it to a corner of the room. You'll clean it up again later. Her hands roam around your torso, exploring to find the buttons of your shirt.

Frantically, Angell works to remove them. She rushes as if she's going to lose you any moment now, not even bothering to remove her own clothes yet. "Don't go..." Angell pleads again before her mouth bites softly from your collarbone to your breasts. She unclasps and removes your bra as she goes.

"Angell..." You sigh her name as she fondles one of your breasts. She touches you with a gentleness she's never shown anyone else. When Angell looks up at you, her eyes reflect an emotion that you can't identify.

Longing? Regret? Lust? You can't tell. Honestly, you don't know how you feel about her either. You thought that Angell was weird at first, but you always believed that she had a good heart. You've grown fond of her as time passed—too fond. Angell isn't the only one wearing her heart on her sleeve, apparently.

For the first time, she calls your name. Not "Chief," but your name. God, it's stupid how such a simple thing has your heart racing when you're literally about to fuck. Since when has your kidnapper gotten you so smitten?

Angell's hands, strong albeit a bit slim, map out every plane on your body. She savors the feeling of each curve and dip and takes her time etching it into her memory. Lips work to kiss every inch of your now exposed skin, occasionally leaving small bite marks.

Not once has Angell treated you like the Chief of the MBCC. She knows of your identity and the good deeds you've done, yet she treats you like any other person. It's one of the many qualities you've grown to love about Angell.

The atmosphere in the room gets warmer, and you use it as an excuse to take off her leather jacket. The other woman is left in her tank top and pants. The prominence of her collarbones sadden you, although it's gotten better since the first day you were brought to this safehouse. You wish she'd take care of herself more.

Angell's hands stop at your belt. You enjoy the few seconds of her struggling with herself before she speaks up. "Can I...?" You smile at her consideration for you, making sure that you're fine with what she's doing. "Yeah. Go ahead."

Office wear is such a hassle to take off, you think to yourself as you help Angell take off your pants. Are all those layers really necessary? Again, the piece of clothing is tossed away to god-knows-where.

Immediately, the woman pounces back on you, now leaving kisses along your stomach as she holds onto your hips. You trace her scars softly with your fingers. You can't imagine the hardships that Angell has been through. You're happy to provide any sort of respite to her.

In the moment Angell stops to look up at you, there is an undeniable air of sadness and guilt. In an attempt to cheer the woman up, you tuck her hair behind her ears and attempt to tease her. "Don't miss me too much."

As you expected, Angell stays silent. You can feel her relax a bit, though—that's a win in your book. She finds comfort in how you never change. Angell slowly dips the pad of one of her fingers into your folds, careful not to hurt you. "Mm... Angell..." You bite back a moan.

"You can go faster. I can take it." You reassure the woman through heavy breaths. It's honestly embarrassing how wet you are, but Angell takes it as a sign that she's doing good. She's become more confident; now thrusting her finger inside of you all the way, albeit still at a gentle pace.

Angell is observant. She looks for what motions earn the most positive reaction from you with an almost deadpan look on her face as if she's not literally fingerfucking you into the mattress. It shows how focused she is on making you feel good.

"Is this your first time?" Angell asks suddenly. She doesn't look at you. "Yeah... Why?" You respond. Angell stays quiet, continuing the movement of her fingers. The question caught you a bit off guard. She didn't seem like the type to refuse to mess with virgins or care about the status of anyone's virginity in general.

Just when you let out a moan from her grazing your g-spot, a realization hits you. This is Angell's first time, too. You doubt she's ever had any real romantic experience before, much less sexual. It's no wonder she seems so nervous. You make a mental note to reassure and praise her.

Angell takes notice of how you let out a sound whenever she grinds against a specific place and abuses the same location with each thrust of her fingers. When she sees you trying to grind against her hand, (because of how good it feels, but she doesn't know that) she takes it as a sign that you need more.

"I'm going to add another finger," Angell says more like a statement than a question, but she waits for your approval before doing so anyway. You've never felt so full. Her years of experience using a sword have calloused her hands ever so slightly, and although you feel bad for what led her to a life of crime, damn did it feel good rubbing against your walls.

Angell loves the way you moan her name. She can't get enough of it; she wants to hear it roll off your tongue like a starving wolf longing for prey in the dead of winter. She listens to the sound of each letter eagerly, as if engraving it into the very essence of her soul. She wants you to say her name over and over again, and only hers. As is in the present and as will be in the future.

Angell's own selfishness surprises her. Maybe she's just like the greedy criminals she has both killed and worked for. Angell has never denied the possibility—she's not the saint that you think she is. There is blood on her hands, and not even the purest of oceans can wash it away. She has long since come to terms with her fate of isolation.

You arch your back into her touch, your arms wrapped around her back. If not for the tank top she was wearing, you're sure you would've left some claw marks along it's broadness already. You have to stop your legs from closing on their own, the overwhelming pleasure proving to be too much. Soft moans and the scent of sex fill the room. "Feels so good, Angell..."

She takes a deep breath, the only things filling her senses being your sweet voice and the feeling of your warm pussy stretching to accommodate her fingers. You have no idea how long Angell has wanted to touch you like this. You do things to her that she can't explain.

Your moans increase in frequency, getting higher pitched as you feel yourself nearing release. It seems Angell is a natural at using her fingers, seeing how she's about to make you cum quicker than you could ever get yourself to. "Angell... I'm-"

Before you can warn her, your legs tremble and you cream all over her hand. After continuing her movements to help you come down from your high, Angell pulls her digits out, fascinated by the string of cum connecting them. Much to your surprise, she puts both fingers into her mouth.

"...I've never tasted anything like this before." Angell remarks. Her sense of taste is dull—she isn't exaggerating when she says she can't tell apart food that's edible from food that's spoiled, or raw from burnt. But you? Your taste is as distinct as it can be to her tongue. You've ignited a dangerous fire in the woman.

"More." Angell demands, positioning her head between your legs. Just as you're about to protest that you're still sensitive, she speaks up again. "Can I?" Angell tilts her head as she asks for permission. Fuck it. You know you wouldn't be able to refuse her and her annoyingly adorable personality anyway.

You sigh at your lack of self discipline when it comes to Angell. "Yes, you can." Those words are all it takes for her to dive headfirst into your dripping sex. Angell's tongue explores your warmth with a newfound confidence, using what she's learned from fingering you to eat you out as skillfully as possible.

God, she's absolutely addicted to your taste—to you. Angell can't get enough of how you squirm under her touch; how you moan her name so wantonly. She'd stay in between your legs for forever if she could, but forever is not a luxury that the two of you have.

Angell wishes that life would be as easy as adjusting the hands of the clock. She wishes she could turn everything back to how it used to be. Angell would hold on to every passing moment with you like a painter desperately trying to capture the perfect sunset before it fades.

Each wet lick up your slit is greedier and hungrier than the last. She's gentle with you, yes, but you can feel the weight of the underlying desire that's been building up in the pit of her stomach for god knows how long. What Angell feels for you is akin to a devouring darkness: once you get entwined, there's no going back. Whether that applies to you, her, or both of you remains unknown. Maybe you know the answer but choose to ignore it.

Body still awash in the aftermath of your previous orgasm, it doesn't take long for you to feel that familiar coil in your belly building up once again. It takes all of your strength to resist pushing Angell's head down between your legs. Well, not that she could go any further. Too busy moaning Angell's name to warn her with words, you hope that she'll get the message with how your legs are trembling.

Sure enough, you cum with a breathless gasp soon after. She eats you out through your high, careful to lap up all of your fluids without overstimulating you. Angell is a quick learner, after all. You're left panting for breath after two consecutive earth-shattering orgasms, yet Angell hasn't even gotten undressed. That won't do. Aside from the damage your pride would take, you want to return the favor.

"Angell, lay down for me, will you?" You ask of her through your heavy breathing. Although Angell has her doubts, she immediately follows your command. "I'm not tired yet." You chuckle at her words but shudder to think about its implications. The stability of your legs would not survive after getting eaten out by Angell again. Though, the same might be said for what you're going to do next. "I want to make you feel good too."

You sit with your thighs on either side of Angell's legs, already working on removing her clothes. Once they're off, you're quick to capture her lips in a chain of soft, yet lustful kisses. She gives in to you more easily than you expected. You had the impression that Angell would be the type to want to be in control of everything at any time, but she lets you lead this dance.

Although the woman is probably unaware, the size of her boner is huge. Seven inches at the very least. You bite your lip at its sheer girth. You'd be lying if you said that you never had any doubts about it fitting inside of you, but it's nothing you can't handle... probably. As if reading your thoughts, Angell speaks. "...I don't have any lube."

Your eyes wander to the bottle of lotion you put on her bedside table, (which was the only surface available for it at the time,) but you eventually decide against using it since it's most likely expired. "It's fine. We'll start out slow."

Angell likes the insinuation that you'll go faster once you're more comfortable. She helps you align yourself with her cock, gently holding you by your hips. Although Angell has her hands on you, she lets you control the pace and only tries to assist when necessary.

With bated breath, you sink onto the tip. Her length feels endless, filling you up completely inch after inch. Angell relishes in how your eyes almost roll into the back of your head and the moan you let out when you finally take her inside entirely. Still, she places your comfort and pleasure above everything else. "Are you sure about this?"

Your chest heaves as you get used to the sensation of feeling so... full. It takes you a few seconds to reply. "This is nothing that the Chief of the MBCC can't handle," Angell smiles at your reply. Your act of false bravado isn't fooling anyone. It gives the woman a sense of pride to have such an important figure of society in her hands like this.

Just being inside of you has Angell biting her lip. She'd never imagine in her life that she'd be able to sleep with anyone, much less someone as kind and beautiful as you are. The intimacy of it all makes everything that much more pleasurable, and Angell hopes you feel the same way.

The two of you stay like this. Both of you are aware that you don't have much time left, but you're not in a rush. Rather, you take the opportunity to enjoy this moment thoroughly. It takes a while for you to get used to Angell's sheer size, and it also takes her a while to get used to these unfamiliar sensations.

Angell is barely able to conceal the pure ecstasy she feels when you start moving. Your pussy is just so tight. She's not one to masturbate often, but she can say with confidence that being inside of you feels miles better and much more personal than rutting into her hand just to get rid of her morning wood.

You take Angell down to the base, albeit with much difficulty at first, and start off by grinding. You roll your hips back and forth, the tip of her cock almost kissing the entrance of your cervix. Angell grips your waist harder, but still lets you control the pace of your lovemaking. Her trust in you makes your heart flutter.

With Angell's hair splayed like flowing rivers on the sheets, her eyes fluttered shut, and soft moans escaping her mouth now and then, you aren't able to resist the desire to kiss her. It starts with a small smooch on her neck, then two. And then these kisses turn into hickeys one after another.

The feeling is weird and alien to Angell, but she surrenders herself to you all the same, even tilting her head to make it easier for you. You feel bad about leaving them in such obvious places, but knowing her, she wouldn't bother to hide them. And you'd be right, because if anything, Angell would wear them as a badge of honor. Who cares what other people think of her sex life?

Up, and down. Up, and down. You move your hips at a steady pace once you get the hang of it. You relish in the way the sides of her cockhead rub against your walls so deliciously. As you're straddling Angell and leaving more hickeys wherever you can access, she gets an idea to play with your clit while you ride her. You seemed to like having it stimulated earlier.

Soon after, the both of you are a moaning mess. This small gesture makes everything feel a hundred times better for you, and in turn, you move faster. You lift yourself enough so her tip is barely inside of you, and immediately bring yourself down again.

Angell curses under her breath. She holds onto you as if you'll disappear otherwise, chanting your name like a mantra; like a sinner begging for forgiveness. The sight of you bouncing up and down on her cock while looking down at her so lovingly is enough to make the inexperienced woman swoon.

"I'm close..." Angell warns. You don't care. In fact, you seem to be riding her harder; trying to milk her for all she's worth. "Want you inside." You lean forward to kiss her. Angell chases after your lips fervently, her hands holding you close as you continue to move your hips while her thumb presses down on your clitoris.

You swallow each other's muffled moans. The only thing that matters to the both of you in this moment is one another. You'd freeze time and stay like this with Angell for eternity if you could. She cums with a strained groan, and you feel her seed filling you up. It's oddly comforting to know that Angell has left a mark inside of you.

You continue your ministrations slowly, and yoi have an orgasm of your own soon after. The mixture of you and Angell's fluids form a white ring on the base of her cock. It doesn't take long until the two of you collapse next to each other, breathing heavily as sweat runs down both of your bodies.

Although you feel refreshed, you have no idea how to handle this. Your relationship with Angell, your return to the MBCC, everything. The confusion is understandable considering you literally just slept with your kidnapper who's been holding you captive. You'll cross that bridge when you get there, you suppose.

Seeing Angell stare at you, most likely with no idea how to proceed either, you feel like you should say something. "That was great, Angell. Thank you." She smiles at your words before pulling you into a cuddle. Angell really is just like a cat, you think to yourself.

With these thoughts in mind, your impulse to scratch her behind the ears just like you would to a stray cat on the side of the road win. Before you can retract your hand to apologize, Angell leans into your touch, sighing contently. You swear you hear her purr, even.

"You really... don't want to stay at the Bureau?" You ask. You regret letting those words leave your mouth, but you can't bring yourself to care now that you're running out of time. You're more than willing to fight for her. "You'll be safe. You can have my red bean soup any time you want."

Angell knows that you mean each word that you say. You won't let anyone from the dark web bother her, and even though you have responsibilities, she knows that you'll fulfill your promise. That's why it hurts.

"Tomorrow. I'll give you my answer tomorrow." Angell speaks up, just as you start to fear that you might've ruined this intimate moment. Her words give you hope. It's faint, but it's there. You'd like to say that you wouldn't, but you'd cling to any chance to spend more time with Angell; have her by your side even if only for a second more.

However, the woman has already made an irreversible decision: one that she fears has consequences that she'll be carrying for the rest of her life. For now, both of you are content with your current state.

"Stay with me," Angell mumbles, trying to enjoy your scent and affection the best her tired body can manage. A thought passes both of your minds as you're entangled in each other's embrace: it'd be nice if we could stay like this forever. It saddens Angell to know that that thought would only be left as an 'if.' "Just for a bit longer."

"Tomorrow" never comes. Tomorrow will never come without you by her side.

Angell wakes up. The bag containing her trusted blade is held near her body. She finds that she hasn't been able to let go of it ever since you've left her—or rather, ever since she left you. It's the only thing left of the time you spent together. It's the only thing that assures Angell that you were real, not just an illusion.

A lot of things have changed. She finds herself sleeping more. Angell clings to her memories with you through dreams, even trying to "make" new ones whenever the chance presents itself. She's also taken less assassination jobs lately, instead picking odd jobs that you'd be likely to choose for her.

Angell remembers the last one she took. The man was a leader of a drug cartel, infamous for getting young sinners addicted and using them to transport goods. The world would be better off without him, and Angell was no different. He had a wife and a toddler son. He called for his wife's name before he drew his final breath. Perhaps he too was but another victim of the cruelty of this side of the world—perhaps he too wanted to escape the void of the dark oceans and live under the sun's warmth.

Angell is too far gone. A shark cannot start living on land, no matter how much it wishes. She belongs in a bottomless abyss where the sun must not pierce through, while you belong on the other side of this fucked up world, risking your life to save everyone that can be saved. Angell is not a part of that group. She feels your sunlight faintly, but as much as she wants to bask in it, it cannot pierce through the deep waters of her heart. It must not.

Maybe things could've turned out differently if she met you earlier.

Angell stands up from the dusty couch. She is the only one in this desolate home. You're not there to scold her for sleeping on the sofa when she has a clean bed. Not even her goldfish keeps her company on these cold nights—but she trusts that you've taken good care of them. You've always taken care of everyone around you, but who's going to do the same for you?

Particles of dust float in her apartment. She finds that there's no reason to clean it up. Once again, her fridge is full of nearly expired, barely edible "food." As Angell gets ready to head out, she sees her reflection in the shards of broken glass on the floor. It was from a vase that came with the safehouse that she knocked over and forgot to clean. Huh. It looks like she's been crying.

You wake up in a cold sweat. The coolness of your desk against your cheek is unpleasant. The arm you've been using as a pillow is numb. You scramble to sit up straight and look at the time: 2:48AM. Most of the Bureau is asleep. A blanket that you didn't even realize was resting on your shoulders falls off of you, most likely Adjutant Nightingale trying to make sure you don't catch a cold.

On a tray set apart from the paperwork you had been working on, there is a note, a sandwich, and a cup of iced coffee. You assume the perpetrator is the same as the person who wrapped a blanket around you, and as it seems from reading the note, you were right. The contents are a mix of Nightingale's concern for you and scolding you for not taking care of your well-being.

You feel bad for worrying her all the time. Honestly, you're surprised she hasn't resigned yet with how often you get kidnapped. It's not just Nightingale either, even some sinners have noticed the bags under your eyes and how distant you've been acting ever since you came back. You should really pull yourself together. If not for yourself, then for the sinners who rely on you, the Chief of the MBCC.

Why do you keep dreaming about Angell? You've been betrayed many times before, and although you'll never get used to it, you've always gotten back up each time quicker than the last. What is it about her that's so different? Why does she affect you so much?

You open your laptop with a newfound sense of determination, but this time, it's not for work. If you want to stop a problem, you should tackle the source of it, right? Or maybe that's just an excuse. You're going to find her, and along with her, answers. After you press the 'enter' key, the simple yet eerie screen you've grown familiar with welcomes you back:

"Welcome to DisMyth"

[j2hoes]

Let Me Help You. (Steve Harrington x Reader)

Word Count: 6.2K

Steve's got a crush on the girl next door. Though not everything is as it seems.

Warning: Mature language, domestic violence, cheating (kind of, maybe?), smut, p in v sex

Steve knew he was in trouble the moment the moving van pulled to a halt at the house next door. He was never one to make an effort with people, at best he would reluctantly greet any new neighbors with his parents after his mother’s persistence. It’s not like he was being nosy, he just so happened to glance out of one of his bedroom windows as the family exited the van. They looked nice, friendly, nothing too out of the ordinary, just a very all-American couple. Or so he thought.

He continued to watch as they waved for a third person to climb out the vehicle and admire their new home. Steve wasn’t one to believe in love at first sight, however, upon seeing her, perhaps he felt differently. She was anything but ordinary, a ray of sunshine in the boring old town of Hawkins. Dressed in a short red dress with a thin white cardigan draped over top, he took note of the way she wrapped the thin material tighter around her body. As though she felt too exposed. Steve admired everything about the mysterious girl, from the dazzling smile on her face, to the way her hair was tied back in an adorable white bow. Heart pounding at an alarming rate, he knew deep down that this girl may very well be the death of him.

In the months that followed, despite Steve’s hope to get to know the girl next door, she seemed to pay no interest in him. They’d exchanged pleasantries, come to learn one another’s names and briefly made small talk if they passed each other outside of their homes. Steve couldn’t understand what he had done wrong, sure, he knew that following his graduation from Hawkins High, he had lost his King Steve ways. Yet, he thought he at least had the same charm, not to mention she hadn’t once seen him in his Scoops Ahoy uniform, so he couldn’t pretend that that’s what had turned her off.

He’d come to understand her routine by now, knowing that she often climbed out of her bedroom window, shimmying down the drainpipe in the dead of night when she thinks nobody will see her. Only to return a few hours later, creeping back into her house before the first crack of dawn, ensuring that her parents didn’t know of her nighttime activities. Sometimes, she gets dropped off by a mysterious white chevy camaro, and whilst Steve never caught sight of the driver, he assumed it was a boy. Heart sinking to his stomach everytime the car would pull into their driveway, knowing that it wasn’t him that she was spending the night with.

He swore he wasn’t obsessed, insisting to Robin that he was just ensuring that she returned home safely after she caught him gazing out of the window one too many times. It’s not like she had no idea who the fascinating girl was, Steve spoke about her often, disguising the very obvious crush as nothing more than an interest in her wellbeing. Robin wasn’t stupid. Knowing her best friend like the back of her hand and it was obvious that he was head over heels in love with this girl that he hardly knew.

Which leads us to present day, Steve was sitting in the alcove of his window, curtains open slightly, blowing gently with the light summer breeze. Fleetwood Mac played softly from the record player beside him, though he wasn’t focused on the music. Eyes drifting between the magazine in his hand to the house next door, awaiting his neighbor’s return. He watched the hands on his watch ominously creep forward and he couldn’t help but feel a pit of worry begin to form within his gut. 04:37AM. She’s normally back by now. Usually climbing back through her bedroom window at around 4AM. 

Deep down, Steve knew that it had nothing to do with him, what she chose to do in her spare time. The pair weren’t even friends, if she wanted to stay out all night then he couldn’t stop her. However, he knew this wasn’t like her. Not wanting to feel like a creep for watching the girl so intently, he did his best to quash the nerves bubbling inside him. Forcing himself to stay awake, no matter how tired he felt or how much his eyelids were desperate for the sweet relief of sleep.

5:49AM. Sometime between now and him previously checking the time, Steve must have drifted into an uneasy slumber. The sound of a car door slamming before revving the engine and flying off down the street is what pulls him back to consciousness. Startling him as he eagerly pulls the curtain back gently so as not to draw attention to himself. Though, when he takes in the sight of the girl, all his excitement at the few seconds he is granted to observe her, vanishes instantly when he notices her appearance. 

Even in the dim orange light, he is clearly able to make out the violent bruise beneath her left eye, swollen to the point she is almost unable to open it at all. Evidently recent, her skin is already beginning to turn a deep mauve. Her lips are no better, mahogany brown lipstick smeared across her face as though a child has scrawled it on. There’s a deep, gaping cut directly through her bottom lip, dried blood in a dirty shade of red cracks in the corner of her mouth. While fresh scarlet liquid continues to fall and drip from the wound, stained across her chin as she shakily brings a hand to her face, attempting to wipe it the best she can.

For the first time in his life, Steve doesn’t know what to do. He’s tempted to sprint down there, offer her any assistance she may need but he’s afraid that it may scare her away. So instead, he watches with a racing heart as she struggles to pull herself through her bedroom window. Clearly having lost any strength she may have had previously. His heart is broken for her and he wants nothing more than to hold her in his arms and tell her that everything will be okay.

Lost in his thoughts, he is completely unaware that the girl has seen him watching. Hastily snapping her curtains closed as she allows the tears to fall freely without prying eyes following her every move. She’s embarrassed that Steve saw her in such a state, oblivious to the fact that he still thought she was the most breathtaking being to ever walk the planet, in spite of her injuries.

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

It had been a week and a half since Steve had caught me returning home, bloody and bruised. Ever since, I’ve been avoiding the boy as much as physically possible. Checking that he isn’t in his window before I make my escape from the house. It’s not like we talk much, Luke made sure of that the second he laid eyes on my neighbor, however, I don’t want him to think any less of me. I was always cautious around Steve, putting on my best display of a pretty, confident girl, even if I felt anything but. That was how I wanted him to perceive me. I certainly didn’t want him to view me as weak, or judge me for what has happened.

Steve caught my eye the minute he entered my family’s house warming party, every lady in the vicinity flocking over to him. Vying for a slither of his attention, yet, I couldn’t help but notice how his eyes kept wandering to mine. Friendly smiles shared between the two of us before a proper introduction from our parents. It wasn’t hard to see why the ladies adored him. He was charming, polite and ever so funny, and despite only talking for a matter of minutes, I found myself entranced by him. Wanting to learn every little detail and explore every inch of his body.

I shouldn’t have thought about him this way, not when I have a boyfriend. However, I simply just couldn’t help myself. Luke has never been a good guy, I knew that when I began dating him, often finding himself in trouble with the police, unafraid to drag me down with him. Though, he was always good to me, at least until I met Steve. For whatever reason, Luke became overwhelmed with rage, something about knowing his reputation and what he was like at school. The night of the party was when Luke laid a hand on me for the first time, a swift smack to the cheek after I mentioned Steve’s name in conversation. Each time it happened, he would continue on as though nothing had taken place. Silently handing me flowers or another small gift the next day, an apology without actually saying the words ‘I’m sorry’. I tell myself that I will leave and never see him again but I continue to run back. Fearful that if I do leave, I won’t find love again.

After checking to find no sign of Steve, I carefully begin my descent down the drainpipe, hopping on to the grass below me when I’m only a few meters above the ground. Brushing my hands to rid myself of any dirt that may have come from the pipe, I turn to begin the walk to the end of the road where I meet Luke and his friends, only to find Steve standing mere feet away. Hands in the pockets of his Levi’s, leaning against the side of his house, having been waiting for me. How did I not see him when he was standing right there?

“I saw you the other night, and I needed to know that you’re okay.” He speaks softly, almost as if he’s scared that I’m going to take off running. His eyes are scanning my face, studying me, attempting to see how bad my wounds were. Unfortunately, my face is plastered in makeup, hiding the unsightly damage.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I’m unable to look the boy in the eyes as I lie to his face. Focusing instead on the scuffed converse glued to my feet, trying to think of a thousand different ways to get myself out of this situation.

Steve sighs, pushing himself away from the wall and walking towards me slowly, and whilst doing my best to keep my distance, I find myself with my back pressed to my own house. Almost identical to his positioning only moments ago.

He’s closer now, standing directly in front of me and I can only pray that my makeup combined with the barely there moonlight, truly hides what Luke did to me. With shaking hands, he nervously takes my jaw between his fingers, my breath catching in my throat as he does so. Gently moving my head from side to side in order to truly examine my features. Judging by the look of concern that flashes across his face and the way he takes a deep breath as he lowers his hand, I know he knows the truth.

“You don’t have to lie to me.” He whispers, coffee brown eyes gazing directly into mine, asserting that his words are truthful. “What happened to you?”

Something about him has me hanging on to his every word, believing that I am truly safe with him. Assuring me that perhaps Steve could be my way out, the reason I don’t return. He has such a warm presence, it’s inviting and I just want to spill my guts to him.

Opening my mouth to speak, I’m forced to remain silent as the familiar sound of a car engine grinds to a halt on my driveway. Whether I was going to tell Steve everything or simply deny everything, I’m unsure, but the moment that car appears, my mouth remains shut. Glancing over to the driver’s seat, I can just about see Luke over the beams of his headlights. Fear begins to flood my body as I can see the deep scowl set upon his face.

“I have to go.”

Pushing past Steve, I force myself to muster up a smile, not wanting to give Luke another reason to be upset with me. I mean, I can’t blame him for being mad at me tonight, he warned me to stay away from Steve and yet, he’s caught me red handed clearly disobeying the one thing he asked of me. It definitely doesn’t help that Steve grabs hold of my wrist as I begin to walk away, causing me to snap my head back to look at him. Brows furrowed in annoyance, I know he is just trying to help, to be a good person but he is only going to make things worse for me.

“Please. Don’t go.” His voice breaks, and for a split second I allow my eyes to soften, shaking my arm out of his grasp. Attempting to reassure him with the tiniest of smiles before silently hurrying over to the car.

Luke doesn’t even acknowledge me as I slide in beside him, possessively grabbing my thigh, a display of dominance. He has an eerie smirk on his face, not once taking his eyes off Steve, who stands in the same spot defeated, claiming his ownership over me. As much as it pains me, I keep my head down, sinking further into the seat, wanting to disappear off the face of the earth entirely.

For the rest of the night, my mind is plagued with thoughts of Steve. The hurt in his eyes as I walked away. I can’t bring myself to engage in any conversation that takes place, not like Luke wants me to anyway. He’s icing me out. Clearly upset about the situation he found me in, his friends must also sense the tension as they make no effort to include me.

Beers continue to flow throughout the night, hands shaking every time I place another can into Luke’s hand. He’s driving us home, though shows no sign of stopping despite being on what must be his eighth carlsberg in the span of only a few hours. It doesn’t help that his pals encourage him, egging him on to drink as much as I can, laughing at the idea of recklessly driving through the streets of Hawkins. To them, it’s a game. Let’s see how much we can drink and still make it home, to me it’s a life or death situation. Afraid that in his intoxicated state, we actually won’t make it home in one piece.

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

“Listen Robin, she needs help.” Steve sighs into the receiver, eyes never leaving the window, not wanting to miss the girl’s return. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, she will allow him to help her.

“Steve, as nice as it is that you care, it’s none of our business. Besides, you don’t even know what happened, for all we know she could be in some elusive fight club and the good girl act she has going on is nothing more than that.” Robin twirls the cord of the phone around her finger, she’s never met the mystery girl that her best friend seems to be hypnotized by, worried that he is possibly getting in over his head, if what he is saying is true.

“He hits her Robin! I know it, she won’t admit it but I know he does.” His voice is strained, sounding as though he could burst into tears at any moment and Robin can’t help but feel sorry for him. She’s never seen him care this much about a girl, especially  one that is practically a stranger. Sure, he loved Nancy, but this seemed different. In a way that she couldn’t quite put a finger on. “God, I’d love to know who the bastard is that’s doing this.”

“I’m gonna stop you right there Steve, let’s say for argument’s sake, you’re right. Her boyfriend is a piece of shit and is getting physical with her, in which case she does need help. Question one, what are you gonna do exactly to help her? Question two, what do you actually think you’re gonna do to the asshole boyfriend because last time I checked, you’ve lost every fight you’ve ever been in. And number three, why do you care so much about this mystery girl? I mean, from what I’ve gathered, you know nothing about her other than her name.”

Robin’s words, although intended to help him, hit Steve like a ton of bricks. What was he actually going to do to help her? He hadn’t thought that far ahead, possibly because somewhere deep down he believed that she would continue to refuse any support from him. Nor did he know why he cared so much. It was like there was some magnetic force tugging his heart towards her anytime she was nearby. A pull so strong that he was unable to deny it, not that he wanted to. 

“Fuck, I don’t know Rob, I don’t have a plan okay. I just can’t let her get hurt anymore-” Before Steve can say anything else, he hears the very faint sound of footsteps dragging down the sidewalk outside. Immediately dropping the phone, he’s bolting towards the window, Robin’s voice calling for him distantly. Not even his worst nightmares could’ve prepared him for what he witnessed.

He thought he’d seen her at her worst, nothing surpassing the extent of her previous injuries, he couldn’t have been more wrong. Deep and gaping slash across her forehead, a bright crimson red that cuts off just below her eyebrow. The cut on her lip reopened, once again pouring with blood. All of the makeup that she had left the house in was nowhere to be seen, violet bruises litter her jaw, matching the black eye she is no longer able to hide.

Tears prick at the corner of Steve’s eyes, watching as she carefully limps towards their houses. Struggling to walk, no doubt from the physical pain she is enduring, one arm clutching her side the entire time. Informing him that the wounds on her face aren’t the only ones she has obtained. 

Incapable of holding himself back, Steve is sprinting out of his bedroom and down the large oak staircase. Thanking the heavens that his parents are away on yet another work trip so he doesn’t have to explain everything to them. They wouldn’t understand his need to help, insisting that whatever she was going through was a personal matter and that he shouldn’t be meddling in other people’s private lives.

He yanks the door open with so much force that it thumps against the wall, he’s only two steps outside his house when he realizes that she is standing in front of him. Half expecting to find her attempting to climb the drainpipe, he can’t hide the shock on his face as she stands gripping one of the posts at the bottom of the stairs leading to his porch. She wheezes, breath rattling each time she takes a gasp for air and he knows that’s not a good sign. 

Standing beneath him under the lights from his house, he is able to see more clearly just how bad her injuries truly were. Red marks wrap around her neck, an indication of strangulation and he has to stop himself from breaking down right then and there. Wanting nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and never let go.

“I couldn’t go home.” She chokes out, lifting the hand that clutches her side, hand stained red. Raising his eyes to her stomach, he spots the wet patch on her t-shirt and releases a shaky gasp. Before he can even think about his actions, he is striding over to her, strong arms embracing her smaller figure to aid her into his house.

It’s with great difficulty that they reach the porch, her knees ready to give out at any moment. Though she’d been fighting for this long, she finally loses the last of her energy after completing the stairs. Caught off guard by her sudden fall, Steve almost drops the girl, catching her at the last second and easing her to the wood beneath their feet. He couldn’t lie and say that he isn’t panicked because he is. Completely out of his depth in this situation, he has no idea what to do. Watching her face drain slowly of its color, he knows he’s losing time and yet his mind is blank. Lost on what he needs to do.

Eyelids flickering shut, he sees whatever light she had left in them fading away more and more each time her eyes close. Hands gripping her face gently, his thumbs push loose strands of hair out of her face as he gazes down at her, heart shattering at the thought of losing her entirely.

“Don’t close your eyes, please don’t close your eyes!” Steve sees the slight smile on her face as she listens to his voice, it’s the first time he’s seen her smile in a long time and he thinks to himself that she is still the most perfect girl he has ever laid eyes on. Even if his hands have left bloodied handprints all over her cheeks as he cradles her face.

“It’s gonna be okay, I’ve got you. You’re gonna be okay.”

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

Soft melodies flutter quietly from down the hallway, the sun beaming through the open windows makes it hard for my eyes to adjust as I prop myself up in bed. Stomach aching harshly as I do so, a tightness making it hard for me to move properly. Lifting the unfamiliar yellow sweater, I find the entirety of my torso wrapped up in a neat, white bandage. Pinned carefully so as not to poke my skin. I struggle to place the bedroom I’m in, it’s unknown to me and still I find myself comforted in this new environment.

My feet follow the sound of the new Queen album, Freddie Mercury’s powerful vocals leading me to the large, open plan kitchen. The distinct smell of grilled tomatoes drifts over to me, a homely scent. Eyes rising from the hardwood floor, it’s only then that I see him, a loose red sweater hanging from his broad shoulder, paired with loose black pajama bottoms that hang low on his hips. He hasn’t noticed me yet, too engrossed in whatever he is cooking up to sense my presence, lips mouthing the words to whichever song is playing. The corners of my lips quirk up in a shy smile, imagining a life in another reality where this was how I woke up everything morning.

“Good morning.”

My voice is quiet as I lean against the doorframe, careful not to rest any of my side against the wall. Steve jumps, mouth falling open slightly in surprise as his eyes find mine. My smile grows wider as he drops the wooden spoon he previously held, not caring as it hits the floor with a clatter. He pads over to me eagerly, throwing his arms around my shoulder and tugging me into his chest. I can tell by the way that he’s holding me, he’s scared of hurting me. His touch light, not daring to hold me too tight. However, I do catch the way his grip tightens on the sweater when my arms slide around his waist, allowing my head to rest against his chest. Hearing the steady beat of his heart releases all the tension and stress I had built up within me and I relax entirely.

Much to my dismay, Steve releases me from the embrace after a few short minutes, keeping his hands on my shoulders firmly, worry evident in the browns of his eyes as he makes a mental note of every little cut and bruise on my face. I feel him delicately brush the backs of his fingers down the side of my face, tracing over what I assume is  another bandage of some sort as I no longer feel his touch on my skin when he reaches my forehead. He’s trying his best to hide the frown on his face, but I’m studying him so intently that I don’t miss it.

“I’m okay Steve, I promise.”

“Let me help you.” He whispers, pressing the lightest of kisses to the top of my head as he pulls me in for a second hug, resting his chin on the same part of me that he just kissed. “You’re breaking my heart Y/N, please, just tell me what’s going on.”

With a small sigh, I reluctantly pull myself away from the taller boy. Playing with the hem of the sweater that just about covers me, as I wander over to the kitchen island, taking a seat on one of the many stools. I sit opposite Steve, who stands with his elbows resting against the counter top. Tomatoes sizzling away, completely forgotten about by the both of us.

I have to swallow the lump in my throat, realizing that I am in fact about to confess possibly the most shameful and embarrassing secret of my life to the boy that I have fantasized about since the day we first met. It’s impossible to describe the effect he has on me, only Steve Harrington could be the one to coax my deep dark secrets out after keeping them hidden for months. Only Steve Harrington would be the one person to care enough.

“I don’t really know what to say, Luke was a nice boyfriend at first, he drank too much and got into trouble a lot but he was nice. When I moved next door to you though, he became crazily jealous, he’d lash out at me if I even so much as mentioned your name. Something about a bad past between the two of you. He never used to get physical, it only started a few months back, he would just get so unbelievably angry. It didn’t matter what I did, the littlest thing could set him off and he’d just see red.” Steve has his hands to his mouth as I speak, almost like he can’t believe what I’m saying. His expression is one of pain and I can’t hide the sadness I feel as I tell him the truth. “Last night was the worst. Luke, he drank far too much, a lot more than he should’ve since he was driving. I think he was just trying to scare me by going so fast but we got into an argument and he took his eyes off the road for literally like ten seconds. We almost went headfirst into a huge brick wall but I grabbed the wheel and instead we spun off the road, down into a ditch and hit a tree. I think that’s where I got all the cuts from, the windows shattered and glass was everywhere. I mean, the car is totaled completely. 

Then Luke lost it. He was screaming at me, that it was my fault we crashed. I just remember him pulling me out of the car and wrapping his hands around my throat. Steve, I thought I was going to die.”

I’m staring over at him with such vulnerability that his own gaze softens. Reaching over the counter to wipe away the tears that slide down my cheeks. Movements cautious and tender.

“I think I must’ve kept blacking out because everything after that is a bit of a blur. I remember him being on top of me, punching me and how I struggled to breathe. The next thing I know, I’m on your doorstep, I didn’t know where else to go. My parents can’t know about this, they’d be devastated and well, I feel safe with you.”

Steve’s round the island the second I stop talking, nudging himself between my thighs and taking my hands in his. Thumbs lightly rubbing over the tops of my knuckles. I know in my heart that he is a good man, that he isn’t judging me for what I have been through. Yet, the longer he remains silent, the more I feel the worry gnawing at me. Terrified that he is going to shame me for what I confessed.

“Promise me, you’ll never go back.” Steve speaks firmly, piercing eyes focused solely on my own. Even if I was afraid to leave before, I don’t think I physically can say no to that handsome face of his.

“I promise.”

“Stay with me, for as long as you want. I’ll take care of you, I swear it. I won’t let anybody hurt you ever again.”

The determination on Steve’s face and in his voice has me smiling like a child on christmas. Things would’ve been so much simpler had I met him before Luke. I wouldn’t have endured all of the trauma of the past few months. Though, gazing up at him right now, with nothing but love and care in his eyes, I can’t help but wonder if this is how things were supposed to happen.

“Only if you want to stay here, if you want me that is?” His gaze falters for the first time since I entered the kitchen, fearful he may have overstepped. I know he’s not asking me to be his girlfriend, or for anything serious at all. The question, however, has me feeling slightly dizzy, understanding that he’s asking if I want him to be around. To be by my side and help me through all of this.

“I do want this.”

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

After taking a much needed shower, and pulling the yellow sweater back over my body, I feel content laid in Steve’s bed, aimlessly flipping through one of his magazines as I await his return. The boy was hesitant to tell me where he was going, insisting he just had to run a few errands and that he would be back shortly. He’s only been gone two hours at best and I still find myself missing his warm presence already.

When I hear the faint sound of the main door clicking, my head perks up, moving to sit upright so that I can greet him the second he walks through the threshold of his bedroom. Opening the bedroom door slowly, I notice he keeps his head down, not wanting to look at me. A sharp tinge of hurt flows through me as I watch him silently shrug off his coat, back turned so he’s still facing away from me.

“Steve?”

I hear the sigh escape from his mouth, he reluctantly turns to face me. Head still turned towards the floor but I don’t miss the bloody graze just above his eyebrow. Gasping softly, I scramble to the edge of the bed, raised on my knees in order to take his head in my hands. Accepting that it’s my turn to inspect his injury.

“What happened?”

His hands hold my wrists, finally meeting my gaze as I look at him with curiosity. What sort of errands leave you with a bloody face? I have my suspicions about where he truly was, however, I want him to admit the truth to me, rather than throwing out false accusations.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I just couldn’t let him get away with what he did to you.” His voice is tainted with humiliation, embarrassed by his actions. Though, I couldn’t be more attracted to him than I am right now.

Sliding my hands to the back of his neck, I’m pulling him down to my face before he can even react to what is happening. My lips are on his, kissing him firmly even if it does cause the cut on my lip to sting. His mouth moves against my own, hands settling comfortably on my waist, still careful not to apply any pressure to the bandaged area. I play with the hair at the nape of his neck and can’t contain the soft whine that leaves my mouth when his tongue flicks over mine with ease.

“Please tell me he looks worse than you.” I ask desperately, chest heaving as I regain some air following the kiss. He nods with a chuckle, a shiver running down his spine as I continue to twirl the hair between my fingers.

“Don’t worry, I took care of him.” He tells me, tentatively pushing my body against the bed, crawling on top of me as though he’s done it one thousand times before. “Now the question is, are you going to let me take care of you?”

Nodding my head eagerly, a bright smile settles on my face as he presses tender kisses to my neck, agonizingly slowly making his way down my chest. As best he can with the sweater still covering my body. One hand tightly holds my hip, the other traces my thigh ever so softly. 

My own hands rest in his brown locks, gripping harder when he sucks or nips at my skin. The feeling arouses me even more so and I’m embarrassed to admit just how much I want Steve.

“Take it off.” I whisper as his hands hesitantly play with the hem of his yellow sweater. Before carefully pulling it over my body, displaying my bandaged and bruised body, though he pays no attention to this. Eyes wide, fixated on my chest and the lack of a bra to cover my breasts. If it wasn’t for the look of lust in his eyes, I’d be covering myself up, self conscious of my appearance.

Steve wastes no time, wrapping his lips around one of my nipples, licking delicately while using a hand to palm the other one softly. A breathy moan escapes my lips and in the brief moment we make eye contact, I feel as though I could cum right then and there. 

As his mouth and one of his hands focus on my breasts, his spare hand reaches my panties. Dragging his fingers over the thin material, teasing, he rubs circles, touch barely there though I’m sure he can feel the growing wet patch. I can feel his hips grinding down onto the bed between my legs, attempting to provide himself with some sort of relief.

Cautiously I push on his shoulders, to which he instantly pulls himself away from me. Fearing he may have done something wrong or that I’ve changed my mind. However, when I push him back against the bed and rid him of his clothes, I don’t miss the boyish grin plastered on his face.

Straddling his hips, I begin to grind myself over his erection, lips catching his in a desperate kiss. It’s messy and wet, neither focused on anything more than the pleasure experienced from our movements. He pants and whines softly, hands toying with my nipples, making me breathless. I can feel my side aching at the movement, yet I don’t care to stop, accepting the pain as a result of my need for the boy beneath me.

“Do you have a condom?” I ask through a string of deep breaths, gazing down at Steve with nothing but passion.

He doesn’t even take his eyes off me as he pulls his bedside drawer open before reaching in and handing me a silver packet. I remove myself from his lap momentarily, yanking my panties down my legs faster than I ever have before. When his boxers are removed, I rip open the little packet, rolling the latex down his length. Before dragging my hand up and down it delicately, resulting in a shaky exhale from Steve.

As I position myself above him, tip grazing over my clit gently, he grabs my wrists, eyes locked on mine. “Are you sure this is okay?”

“It’s more than okay.” I reassure him, grabbing his member and ever so carefully lowering myself onto him.

Gasp slipping from my lips as I take all of him inside of me, never having felt so full in my life. Steve’s fingers are stroking my hips, staring at me with an encouraging smile as I work up the nerve to move slightly. A hesitant lift of my hips before pushing myself back down. As I take more and more, I find myself shocked by how easily he slides in and out of me. Bounces easy and indescribably pleasurable.

Pressing my hands to his chest, I find the perfect rhythm, a combination of bouncing on his length, whilst rocking forwards just a little in order to hit the spot deep inside of me that evokes the most toe curling feeling within me. 

Steve’s eyes are closed, deep groans emitting from his throat as his hands knead my ass softly. Hair stuck to his forehead from the sweat and cheeks flushed a deep red, yet he’s still the most beautiful man I have ever seen.

Mere seconds later I find myself reaching the boiling point, gripping Steve’s shoulders tightly as I rock myself through quite possibly the most intense orgasm of my life. Collapsing onto his chest with heavy breaths, his weight shifts under me and he begins to thrust up into me. Chasing his own high. The sensitivity becomes too much and I find myself seeing stars as he releases into the condom with a string of obscenities.

Rolling off him reluctantly, I watch as he rids himself of the latex, launching it into the bin at the otherside of the room. Turning to me, he opens his arms, wrapping me in them gently.

“I will never let anybody hurt you, not again.” He mutters into my hair and I’m unsure whether he’s telling me or himself.

“I know Stevie, I trust you.”

[alijuan]

Ascended Astarion is true unlike Spawn Astarion who pretends to be good for Tav

If i see that opinion again i will explode🫠

It's funny because Astarion will only approves if you persuade him not to perform the ritual.

A lot of people don't understand the concept of grey morality and it shows. Many people justify him but this type of AA fan thinks worse of him than he really is. He needs the ritual not because he's a power-hungry villain, but because he needs safety for himself and his lover. Depending on Tav/Durge's actions, he either stays with the feeling of fear (AA is still afraid deep inside, the game files confirm this) or he fights against it and becomes truly free of Cazador and fear (spawn ending). The dialogue with Durge about not being afraid is wonderful and shows difference between SA and AA.

Astarion: This little adventure of ours has taught me that we can't let our lives be ruled by fear. Or else we never really live. Astarion: I'm not afraid. Not of you, not of your darkness, and not of our future.

The point of the spawn ending is that Tav/Durge saw him as more than just an outward image of a power-hungry killer incapable of becoming a better person. But if you can't see beyond that image, he will think that he has no choice but to continue living in the world that Cazador has built for him. If you think that AA is his best ending because he is evil then you have failed to understand his whole personality.

I feel safe with you. Seen.

Despite of his love of killing (he is a vampire after all), he repeatedly showed compassion and guilt for luring people. Before the ritual, he literally convinced himself that he should kill spawn for power. Astarion rationalises this to protect his psyche, because he’s clearly not the type of guy who can sacrifice thousands of people to the devil and not feel anything about it.

Durge/Tav: This isn’t you, Astarion. Not really. Astarion: It should be.

I really like that the player technically makes the insight check and that there’s an advantage when they're romancing Astarion. Tav/Durge could see through the image Astarion was trying to create. They saw an elf whose fear prevented him from seeing all the possibilities.

Astarion: When I look at my future, anything and everything feels possible now.

Just as Astarion saw Durge not just as serial killer, but as someone who could defeat Urge and become a better person.

Durge: I am myself at last. You don't need to fear anything from me ever again. Astarion: I knew you had that sweat heart all along. I was alarmed by you sometimes, scandalised even, but somehow by your side, I still only ever saw you.

AA fans also often ignore the fact that the game has good and bad endings in the companion stories. And it's not about morality. All companion quests are literally about how the desired and obvious path leads to a bad ending. And Astarion is no exception. In a good ending, he gets the chance to heal and finally acceptes himself and his vampire nature, in a bad ending, he gives up and regresses as a person.

Spawn Astarion knows what he wants and says it. SA is ready for a relationship and sex. Ascended Astarion can’t answer the question of what he wants, so he acts as a vampire lord should. AA is literally back to the state of the first act and has started manipulating Tav/Durge through sex again (even repeating the same phrases). This is why he doesn’t really want sex (he approves if you choose the no sex option and he definitely dissociated during the sex scene) unlike Spawn Astarion who initiated it.

Spawn Astarion is the same Astarion who enjoys “murder and terror” and you can see that clearly in his “hero” ending (more like “antihero”). And this is the ending without romance, he chose it himself. And the whole idea of him pretending to be good for Tav is actually meaningless without romance.

Ascended Astarion is the same Astarion, but stuck in a black and white world of fear and domination.

SA scene ends with hope music (instrumental version of I want to live) AA scene ends with chains.

And there’s so much more. Larian specifically showed the difference between good and bad endings in the dialogues, scenes after ritual, recent updates and even the interview so people would definitely understand, but they didn't🙃 Some AA fans (especially on youtube and larian forum) are on a new level of delusion.

[aestherin]

KEEP MY HEART

goal 20: home

“What the —“ Heizou stopped in his tracks as soon as he got to the field. “Did I get the time wrong? I could’ve sworn the practice was scheduled after lunch.”

Underneath the scorching sun, there Scaramouche was, alone on the field. Heizou did not know what he was supposed to feel — should he be proud or worried that his captain was still playing his best despite not having any opponents? Not teammates, even. On that soccer field, it was just Scaramouche, the ball, and the goal.

He merely sighed.

“Scara!” Heizou called out as he approached the bleachers. The indigo-haired boy then looked at his direction, only acknowledging the other’s presence with a nod before going back to his practice. “What a snob,” he teased loudly.

“Shut up, Shikanoin.”

Heizou sat down as he starts preparing to join Scaramouche. While putting on his cleats, he looked around.

One of the large water containers meant for the soccer team was almost empty, even though they just refilled it to the brim after the previous practice they had. Scaramouche’s towel hang on one of the seats’ back, drenched in sweat. His sharp eyes then trailed back to the lone man playing on the field, whose shirt was almost made see-through due to being wet.

‘Just how long has he been playing here?’ Heizou thought.

As soon as the whole team, together with their coach and her good friend (a certain literature professor) arrived, the real practice commenced. From warm-ups, to drills, even up to practice games — Scaramouche was always there with them. He did every single thing that the whole team did. Even though he already did them more than a hundred times earlier.

Around dusk, Scaramouche was already reaching his limit. His plays were still impeccable, but his own body could not keep up with his own thoughts. He was panting, his legs almost at the brink of failing. His whole being was shaky and unstable. And for a second he stayed idle, crouching and bending his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

"Kunikuzushi," Ei called.

"Coach?"

"You're already tired?" The woman's voice was laced with disappointment. Despite being the star player's mother, she could not spare her one and only son the humiliation. Scaramouche scoffed inwardly. 'She really had to tell me off within earshot of the whole team.'

Scaramouche was about to retort, but shortness of breath stopped him. Instead, it was Heizou who responded to their coach. "Coach Ei, maybe we can let him take a break. Scara's been here practicing since early morning. He must be fatig —"

"I'm not tired," Scaramouche stood up straight. "I can still play."

"Dude." Aether uttered.

Ei merely stared at him before blowing the whistle once again, signaling that the game resumed. Scaramouche however, no matter how hard he tried, failed to last much longer.

"Scara!"

"Captain!"

Every player in the field stopped what they were doing as their captain fell and laid flat on the grass. He was desperately gasping for air while clenching the fabric of his shirt tightly. All of them thought it was because he was catching his breath, but no.

It was primarily because he was frustrated with himself.

His mother stood near them, her friend beside her. "You're clearly overfatigued, Kunikuzushi," Ei remarked. "You're still lacking stamina and endurance."

Scaramouche, still on the ground and short of breath, put his right arm over his eyes. He could not help smiling bitterly. 'When did I ever not lack anything, mom?'

He chose not to say anything.

"Practice for today is now over."

Scaramouche's teammates expressed concern for their captain, while his two bestfriends helped him up. The whole time, they could not read the man at all. He did not say anything, nor was his face expressing anything.

All they knew was that he took what his mother said to heart.

Meanwhile, Ei and her friend Yae remained on the soccer grounds. The purple-haired woman was looking after everything, making sure that the team did not forget anything or did not leave a mess. Her friend merely seated on the benches with her legs crossed.

"You know, Ei," Yae said as she was boredly checking her nails. "You're a little too harsh to your boy."

"You know that I have to be."

"Of course, of course. I do remember what happened to your sister, and believe me, I understand where you're coming from. I know you just want to protect your son."

Yae stood up and headed towards her friend. "But you know, the way you are doing it, I don't like your approach."

"I am doing this for his own good," Ei insisted.

"If you say so."

KEEP MY HEART — scara x reader smau

previous . masterlist . next

SUMMARY — you find plenty of guys around you attractive, but there is only one you’re willing to make the first move on: the guy you first saw during your older brother’s soccer game. spoiler: he's a player from your rival university.

TAGLIST I (closed)

@kararisa @krnzysh @syriiina @your-kuya-pogi @xiaosonlybeloved @xiaomainlmao @cindywasneverhere @coquettemaiden @sunsethw4 @lunavixia @calickoh @arealistonao3 @youthingazi @zyilas @mondaymelon @yukiipc @heartswonder @st0pthatsgay @ozzierenato @astreaa-express @shewolfmiko @lovelyycherries @myaaones @countessqin @aloveablechaos @letthewindlead @lunaavity @local-blueberry-boy @luminestars @layla240 @useless-potatho @atlaszi @alatusorrow @lahsram2201 @sakiimeo @user11918163805279 @vqazx @neigesprincess @kunicrush @yoursockstinks @hotgirlshit5 @mikctp @crucnhice @apotatouwu @yuaenri @sammybeefangirls @miko1ly @deffenferofjustice @etherisy @sagegreenthinks

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [15] - Morning After

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, it's a calm one❤️ and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: The first day of marriage can be relaxing.

Word Count: 2800

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, stabbing, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

When you woke up next morning, it took you a while to understand where you were because this was not your bedroom or the honeymoon suite you had been staying at for a month but—

Oh.

Barnes weekend residence.

You rubbed at your eyes and turned around in the huge bed to see Bucky sleeping soundly right beside you, still in his clothes from last night. Your heart skipped a beat and you looked down at yourself to see your white afterparty dress, then yawned and pushed yourself off the bed.

Your afterparty dress was pretty, but it was way too uncomfortable to sleep in.

You grabbed your clothes from the bag Becca had prepared for you, then made your way to the bathroom to change into them and walked back into the bedroom again. When you pulled open the curtains to let the sunlight in, the sight of the huge green yard caught your attention and you smiled slightly, leaning sideways to the windowpane.

It was a good thing you were going to get this house in divorce.

“Morning,” the raspy voice reached your ears and you turned around, your heart skipping a beat as your gaze fell on Bucky. He ran a hand over his messy hair as he sat up in the bed and you stared at him for a moment, noticing for the millionth time just how handsome he looked before you frowned, throwing your shoulders back.

“Why are we in the same bed?”

“We’re not,” he said, motioning at you. “You’re standing right there.”

“No I mean last night—”

“I hardly remember anything about last night,” he murmured, rubbing his eyes before his head snapped up. “Wait.”

“What?”

“Did we…?”

You scoffed a laugh. “You wish.”

He managed to shoot you a mischievous grin despite being sleepy, then leaned his back on the bedframe to look at you better.

“Anyway isn’t it a good start?” he asked. “I mean considering we have one bedroom in the penthouse.”

“There are two guest rooms.”

He tilted his head.

“Y/N, I need an office in the apartment and so will you,” he said. “You do realize that?”

Your frown deepened as you tried to wrap your head around the idea. You hadn’t thought about the fact that he would need an office but it made sense, most of the deals were done at bosses’ homes and now that you were going to become an active player in the business, you would need one as well.

Oh, God damn it.

“Are you serious?”

“You chose the apartment,” he reminded you. “Besides I think it’s safer for us to sleep in the same place in case of an attack, especially with everything that’s been going on in town lately.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and heaved an irritated sigh.

“Great,” you muttered. “I want one of those huge beds then.”

“Done.”

“And if you dare assume—”

“I’m not assuming anything,” he said and he got off the bed, then started unbuttoning his shirt, making your eyes widen.

“Uh, what are you doing?”

“I’m gonna take a shower,” he said. “You didn’t eat yet, did you?”

“Um…” you trailed off, trying to focus. “No?”

“Great, I’m starving,” he said, checking his wristwatch before tossing his shirt aside. “Our chef is a genius, you’ll see.”

…Jesus, this was just simply annoying.

You tried not to stare at his muscular torso but the tattoos on his strong chest made it impossible to look elsewhere. Your eyes darted over the small numbers around the gun before slipping down to his abs, but then snapped up to his face when he cleared his throat, his cocky smile playing on his lips.

“Don’t fucking say it,” you said and he held up his hands.

“You know, if you wanted to consummate our marriage—”

“It’s not the Regency times and that will never happen.”

“Just saying, the offer is on the table whenever you want.”

“I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last man on earth,” you pointed out, trying to ignore the fire burning your cheeks. “I’ll—I’ll go and check if the breakfast is ready, don’t be late.”

You walked away from him before he could say anything else, but you could still hear his laughter as you left the room. You shook your head as you made your way to the top of the stairs, then gritted your teeth.

“Keep your head in the game,” you muttered to yourself and went downstairs, your heart still beating fast.

                                                 *

This right here was the reason why you liked the Barnes weekend home this much even when you were growing up. It was pretty far away from the city and it was such a huge estate that it made you feel as if you had escaped from all the chaos and tension that came with the city. You and Bucky had decided to go back to the city around the evening so that no one would have any doubts about you not “enjoying” each other’s presence the morning after your wedding since you weren’t going on a honeymoon.

Bucky had given everyone the business excuse, and considering the state the city was in right now with HYDRA you were sure everyone agreed, but it was still a good idea to play it safe.

You thanked the maid who brought you your mimosa before she walked back to the house, then took a sip and leaned back on the sunbed, heaving a sigh. It was such a beautiful day so you decided to enjoy the sunlight with a book you had found in the library while Bucky was swimming in the pool. You stole a look at the pool before dragging your gaze to the green yard, then put your glass back on the small table beside you but before you could go back to your book, your phone vibrated on the table, making you frown.

“Who the…” you trailed off, then raised your brows when you saw the text.

From: Ethan

Hey, just wanted to say congratulations for the wedding.

You pursed your lips, taking a deep breath and your finger hovered over the button before you typed in your reply.

Thank you.

You sent it and saw that he was typing for a couple of seconds before you received another text.

Can we meet when you’re available? I’d like to apologize in person.

You blinked a couple of times, then sat up straighter and sent your text.

Nothing to apologize for, but I’d love to meet sometime this week?

You jolted with a gasp when Bucky’s phone started vibrating and shook your head, then put your phone down to grab his.

“Bucky!” you called out, holding up his phone and he turned in the pool to look at you, then swam towards the edge of the pool to pull himself out. A warmth spread through your stomach as he came closer to you, sunlight falling on his skin as he ran a hand through his wet hair, then grabbed a towel so that he could wipe his face. You swallowed thickly, averting your gaze from his body and put the phone on the table again, pretending to be engrossed in your book.

“Hey man,” Bucky answered the phone and listened to the other line, then let out a chuckle. “Hold on I’m putting you on speaker.”

You looked up from the book at him as he flung himself on the sunbed to your left.

“Hey Y/N!” Sam’s voice reached you and you smiled.

“Hi Sam.”

“Not interrupting anything I hope?”

“Nope,” you said. “What’s up?”

“How badly did you scare Ian?”

You pulled your brows together while Bucky grinned. “What?”

“He wanted a meeting with me and Steve as soon as possible,” he said. “Today, actually. Before you got back to the city.”

“Unbelievable…” Bucky muttered, curling an arm behind his head and you bit back a smile.

“Did you say yes?”

“Are you kidding? I’m still hungover,” he said with a small laugh. “No, meetings can wait until Monday.”

“Even better,” Bucky commented. “Let him panic.”

“Did he sound panicked?”

“Oh he did,” Sam said. “And very obvious too because if it were about business, your father would be the one to call me. Arthur is the one I make deals and have meetings with, not Ian.”

You nibbled on your lip, that familiar jealousy sinking your stomach.

“Well, he’s usually in the room though,” you muttered. “Does my dad know?”

“About the meeting? I doubt it,” Sam said. “Anyways, I just wanted to let you two know. Your cousin is freaking out, Y/N.”

“Serves him right,” you said with a grin. “Thanks Sam.”

“Anytime. Buck, I’ll see you when you get back?”

“Absolutely,” he said. “Thanks again. Tell Steve I said hi?"

“Will do,” he said and hung up, and you took your glass into your hand while the maid brought Bucky a drink. Bucky thanked her, then turned to you.

“Him being scared is going to be hilarious to watch.”

You huffed out a small laugh, then sipped your drink.

“He will try to stand in my way though,” you said and Bucky shrugged his shoulders.

“He will,” he said, nodding his head. “And we will run him over.”

That managed to put a smile on your face and you nibbled on your lip, looking down at your drink.

“Having second thoughts?” Bucky asked and you frowned, then shook your head.

“No,” you said. “No, never. I want this, I just—I also know it will make my dad furious when he finds out what I’m trying to do.”

“He can be furious all he wants,” Bucky said. “You’re the right choice here. He’ll see.”

You bit inside your cheek, trying to get rid of the familiar nervousness pulsing through you. You weren’t so used to going directly against your father ever since you were a child, especially on important things, and the family business was as important as it got.

You wished he could just name you the heir. That he could just let you prove yourself instead of pretending he couldn’t see that Ian was not fit to be the next boss, but since he refused to do it, you refused to feel bad about what he forced you to do.

He had promised you the position after all, so many years ago.

You snapped out of your thoughts and turned your head when Bucky’s vibranium hand touched yours.

“Hm?”

“Swim with me,” he said, shooting you an irresistible smirk that made your heart skip a beat, but you pulled yourself together and scoffed.

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on, it’d be fun.”

“I’m sure you’re very familiar with the idea of having fun by yourself,” you snarked, grabbing your book again to turn the page. “Don’t let me stop you.”

Bucky shot you a grin.

“Fine, stay here and pretend you’re not staring then.”

“I don’t even notice your presence,” you shot back as he got up from the sunbed, then walked to jump into the pool again. You stole a look at him, then clicked your tongue.

“Much,” you added quietly to yourself. “I don’t notice your presence much.”

                                                    *

By the time you and Bucky got to the city, it was already evening. The road hadn’t taken you long, but spending the whole day by the pool and knowing that tomorrow you had to plan just how exactly you would first get involved in the business at least officially made you feel quite tired.

And it was going to be the first night you would stay in your and Bucky’s new apartment.

In the same bed.

Lovely.

Having already ordered the biggest bed you could find, you were sure that this time tomorrow, you would be able to go to sleep and not even notice you were not alone in the bed but tonight was going to be rather challenging. You knew you had slept in the same bed last night, but both of you had been drunk so—

Getting drunk tonight as well sounded like a good idea actually.

When you reached the top floor and saw Bucky’s men patrolling the hallway, you repressed a yawn and followed Bucky to the door of the apartment. He unlocked it, then turned to you with a grin.

“What—” you started but was cut off when he hoisted you up bridal style, making you let out a surprised squeal. “Bucky!”

“It’s tradition,” Bucky said, still grinning. “We’re a traditional couple.”

“No we’re not, put me down!” you said, trying your hardest to stop the giggle threatening to spill from your lips as you held onto his shirt, painfully aware of Bucky’s men stealing glances at you two. Bucky opened the door and stepped inside with you in his arms, then kicked the door close with his foot.

“You’re unbelievable!” you said, unable to stop yourself from smiling as he put you down, and he had the audacity to give you an innocent look.

“What?” he said. “Sweetheart, we’re married now. I’m supposed to carry you over the threshold.”

You lowered your head just so that you could hide your smile and smoothed over your dress, then turned your head to see the multiple gift boxes and flowers in the living room.

“Ah,” you said. “I almost forgot about the wedding gifts.”

“Did we put weapons on the gift list?”

“No,” you said, making your way to the living room. “But we got them, probably. I call dibs on any knives we get by the way.”

“I told Steve I wanted brass knuckles,” Bucky said. “I think he got us a matching pair.”

“Oh I love brass knuckles.”

“I saw this really cool—” Bucky started but stopped talking when a small meow reached your ears. You pulled your brows together and opened your mouth to ask whether he heard it too, but a white ball of fur wheezed through the living room.

“What the…” you trailed off when a beautiful white cat with a pink ribbon on her leash reached you, and sat down to look up at you with wide blue eyes.

“Mrow?”

“Are you seeing this as well?” you asked Bucky and he nodded.

“Why do we have a cat?”

“She’s so cute—did she come with the apartment?” you asked. “No, right? She wasn’t here when we first saw here.”

“No I don’t think…” Bucky said and walked to the door to open it. “Aaron?”

“Mr. Barnes.”

“Who brought the cat?”

“Miss Becca, sir,” the man replied and you bent down to scratch at the cat’s head, making her close her eyes for a moment, purring.

“Hi there,” you whispered, smiling wide. “Aren’t you the cutest thing in the world?”

“Jesus…” Bucky muttered as he closed the door, then took out his phone and touched the screen before putting it on speaker. “I mean it's Becca, of course she-"

“Hey there!” Becca’s cheerful voice filled the room and you looked up, still scratching the cat’s head.

“Becca, why is there a cat in our apartment?” Bucky asked, making her gasp.

“That’s your baby!”

You bit back a smile, fixing the ribbon on the cat’s leash while Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Right," he said. "And why do we have a baby on the first day of our marriage?”

“Because as you said, you’re married now which means you guys can be all responsible and stuff,” she answered. “Her name is Alpine by the way. She’s my wedding gift to you, isn’t she sweet?”

You picked Alpine up, holding her in your arms. “You know, a lot of people just sent flowers as a gift.”

“A lot of people are boring,” Becca replied. “Leila’s friend found her on the street, the poor thing! I’d keep her but Leila is allergic, so there you go. Now you two have a daughter.”

“I’ve always wanted a daughter,” you nodded solemnly and Bucky blinked a couple of times as if he couldn’t believe you were playing along.

“Y/N…”

“I gotta go now, enjoy the first night of parenthood!” Becca said and hung up, making Bucky gawk at the phone before putting it back into his pocket.

“Of course she got us a cat,” he muttered. “Of course.”

Alpine purred in your arms, making you smile down at her before looking up at Bucky.

“We should probably buy stuff for her,” you said, looking around the apartment. “A bed, some food, toys…”

Bucky’s brows rose. “Hold on, we’re keeping her?”

“Of course we are, you heard Becca. She’s our daughter, apparently,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders as you walked to the door. “Her surname will be dashed as well, by the way. Mine and yours together.”

“Y/N—”

“Come on!” you called out as you stepped out of the apartment with Alpine still purring happily and Bucky heaved a sigh, then followed you to the elevator.

Chapter 16

[sorchathered]

I can love you through the dark

Pairing- Jake Seresin x OC (Savannah Monroe-Seresin)

Warnings- language, angst, mentions of death, pregnancy, ptsd

Summary- sometimes the past keeps Jake up at night, but she is always there to bring him back from the dark.

A/N- an old WIP I found deep in my Google docs that I thought could use some love. Not beta read.

———————————————————————————-

Jake Seresin had a short fuse. He’d been working on that.

He kept his composure as Rooster threw that cheap shot at him, brushing it off despite the shock all over everyone’s faces by the pool table. “The only place you’ll lead someone is an early grave.” It rang in his ears later that night, Coyote was too damn perceptive as he watched his friend from across the shitty barracks room they were assigned to.

“I’m fine” Jake grunted as he stared at the ceiling, trying to will the thoughts away.

Two years. It’d been two years since his former wingman Torch had lost his life in a field exercise gone wrong. Jake had been cleared of any wrongdoing but he knew; if he’d watched his teammate’s back like he should have Torch would still be alive.

He’d worked his ass off to prove he was the best ever since, and refused to let anyone else in again after that day. Maybe that’s why he was so frustrated with Rooster, he cared too much where Jake refused to care at all. The mission was what mattered now; not making friends. All getting close to someone guaranteed was that you had more to lose, and Jake couldn’t bear to lose anything or anyone else.

“How are things going?” The soft voice filtered through the speaker of his phone as he paced the halls, another night full of nightmares and no sleep.

“It’s going. This is a big one, everyone who’s anyone is here and I worry that they aren’t taking it as serious as they should.” He sighed and ran a hand over his face, he shouldn’t be on the phone with her right now, one of them at least needed to get some rest.

“You need to take care of yourself, and try to be a team player-“

He barked out a laugh at that and he could just see her shaking her head and sighing, she knew he couldn’t afford to get close to someone like that again, no one knew better than she did.

“Jake. I need your head in the game. I can’t do this without you, I- I need you to come home ok?” She was crying, he’d promised he’d do everything he could to never make her cry and here she was getting upset over him again.

“Sweetheart I’m not going anywhere, but you need to rest ok? I’ll be good, I’ll be the very best. Take care of yourself and our little angel. I love you Savvy, fuck- I love you so much.”

They said their goodbyes and Jake slept for the first time since he’d gotten back to Miramar.

Savannah “Savvy” Monroe had been Torch’s high school sweetheart, she’d followed him wherever the navy took him until that fateful day when his plane had gone down. She’d always seemed like an unstoppable force until then, and Jake watched one of his best friend’s crumble and turn into a shell of the woman she’d been. It seemed obvious to everyone but him that they would seek solace in each other, no one blamed them for how they chose to stitch themselves back together, and while they started a new life together Jake couldn’t help but struggle with the guilt.

She’d dragged him to therapy after a big fight, he’d walked out her early in their relationship; determined to prove to her that he didn’t deserve her love and push her to hate him as much as he hated himself. 6 months later he’d finally found himself again, only to find out that Savvy was pregnant. He couldn’t help but wish Torch was here, and his therapist told him it was not only normal but expected. He’d made an honest woman out of her quickly after that, life had proven to be too short and they wanted to start their new life with all the bows tied up nice and neat.

When the call came up to head back to top gun they were nearing the 7th month and he wanted her to stay in Texas with his mom where he knew she’d be safe and taken care of. Now he was here and all he wanted was to hold her, especially after Rooster managed to get under his skin. No one really knew that he and Sav were married, except for Javy and his wife and he wanted to keep it that way. Rooster knew Torch would always be a sore spot, and he’d pressed just the right buttons to bring Hangman to the surface. He filed that rage away for the right moment and when the time came he was ruthless, he knew it was wrong to cut Bradshaw down like that but Rooster had thrown the first punch.

When he got reduced to spare and Rooster got promoted to wingman he was almost relieved, he had too much to lose and it was easy to get caught up in the competition. He wanted to be the best, but he had to think of his family.

Mission accomplished and successful, everyone had survived and made it back to Fightertown safely. As he stepped off the carrier he heard her shouting his name and shook his head in disbelief, he should’ve known better than to think her stubborn ass wouldn’t be here waiting for him to return. She couldn’t run bless her heart but she waddled across the lot as fast as she could with a giggle as he scooped her up in his arms, kissing her deeply and then dropping to his knees to talk to his baby boy.

Rooster watched from a distance, realization striking him as he took the scene in. He’d met Torch’s wife before, years ago when they were in flight school. Heat burned his cheeks as he realized that maybe- just maybe he was just as much of an ass as Jake Seresin, and maybe his judgement had been too harsh. Coyote clapped him on the shoulder as he passed, nodding his head in their direction as he watched Jake pepper kisses to her cheeks, he treated her like she were made of glass as he escorted her across the lot to his truck.

“Now you know a little something about Hangman, he wants you to think he’s a pompous ass; but the man couldn’t be more of a marshmallow. I hope to God we never have to live through what they did, don’t you agree?” Javy Machado didn’t wait for an answer, just left Rooster to ponder that thought.

He thought of his mother, broken over the loss of his father and felt a cold chill, he’d find a way to thank Hangman someday, he had saved his life after all.

———————————————————————————-

Tagging- @roosterforme @attapullman @bobgasm @seitmai @sebsxphia @mynameismckenziemae @sailor-aviator

[sausage-rolll]

St. Trina's chosen

Thinking about how St. Trina only talks to the player tarnished despite Thiollier's undying loyalty to her.

Thinking about how before traveling with Melina, Torrent belonged to Miquella (and by extension, also Trina)

Thinking about how at some point Torrent was sent out in search of a new master

Thinking about how Ranni's doll body requires her to sleep

Thinking about how St. Trina can visit people in their dreams

Thinking about how “torrent’s former master” asked Ranni to deliver the spirit tuning bell to whoever he chose to serve next

-

Did St. Trina put everything in motion? Was she the one who set Torrent out on his search for a new master? Was she the one who asked Ranni to give us the spirit tuning bell? Could it have been one final, desperate plea to find anyone capable of stopping her other half before it was too late for him? Does St. Trina only commune with us because she knows that we're the one who Torrent chose as his new master? Is that why this character, that we never meet before now seemingly has full faith in requesting our aid? because her trusted steed was the one to bring us to her? From the very moment Torrent found us washed up in the lands between, were we destined to find our way to Miquella's/St. Trina's path?

[umbrify]

Y’know I really feel like there’s something to be said about Scar siding with the mounders, in the end….

He said he was alone. The guy with no friends… and yet, it was that last minute alliance with the mounders… standing at their side on the hill as Gem and the Scotts approached, he chose a side. He chose a side…

And the side he chose… with Bdubs, and Joel, and Pearl… all players that have seen firsthand what it’s like to be cast aside— players that know all too well how it feels to be alone. They take him in, choosing, in that moment, to trust him— despite everything he’s done to them all, they trust him…

Joel tells him that he’s found his alliance. Scar asks if he’s found a family….

I dunno. There’s something to that.

[stagark]

Warmth Amidst Dust

Gender-neutral Reader & Jiyan Comfort

Minors DNI - this blog writes dark and sexual content.

Content warnings: Panic/anxiety/ptsd attacks, left vague but reader experiences extreme dissociation and derealization and struggles to breathe due to anxious thoughts. Mentions of minor character death, paranoia on reader’s part. Basically, reader has a panic attack and Jiyan holds you while you breathe. Please be aware of the tags and do not read if these topics may trigger you.

Can be interpreted as romantic or platonic! You are a soldier under General Jiyan who has pushed yourself too hard recently, causing panic attacks. General Jiyan noticed and offered a shoulder to hold while you relearn how to breathe.

Word count: 1.5k - Also read on Ao3

You never once thought you would ever thank the dust of Norfall Barrens. As a rookie soldier you had grimaced through it, determined to protect the city you loved despite the discomforts and hardship of enlisting in the Midnight Rangers.

But now, three years later, it was a welcome respite from the sharp, biting winds. The particles stuck to your sweat-slick skin, a grimy but effective layer that allowed you to fight the abominations with a shield from the bone-chilling wind streams. The icy breeze got to you over time, seeming to attack your skin at every opportunity, leaving your limbs tender and your bones brittle.

Unexpectedly, what relieved the wind chill the most was another gale, one scripted by your trusted general, Jiyan. He moved like a deadly dancer guided by a loong dragon’s spirit. It was clear your sentinel itself chose Jinzhou’s general, his unwavering sense of justice an arrowhead directing the war against the Lament’s effects.

A composed man who overflowed with warmth and care at his core, he warmed every space he ever entered both with his aero resonance and his very spirit. The medic turned leader was almost universally beloved, a man who faught alongside his soldiers, a voice of strength and reason so desperately needed in and out of the battle field. His mere presence strengthened resolve against the Lament’s corruption, igniting and directing soldiers’ will to fight for their home like the strong tendrils of wind that uplift gentle embers into roaring and ferocious wildfires. His guidance inspired you and so many others, and you worked hard to earn your place in a unit directly below him.

The call of your name by one of your companions shook you out of your thoughts. In the relative safety of your camp you were able to let your mind float following your shifts on watch. You tended to do that more often these days. Only in battle was your mind sharp; otherwise you were simply a shell of a human, no different from a golden echo on the field. Warmth graced your hands in the form of a bowl of hot soup, the scent of spices wafted into your nose, a very welcome surprise. Such commodities were rare these days, perking up even your dulled senses.

“Come on, I know you’re tired from your shift but we have a feast prepared today!” a new fellow you fought alongside with today called at you with a smile. You managed to offer one back. A feast in these parts meant warm food and extra proteins, and spices it seemed, this time. A welcome blessing in this hell. While you’re sure you would be glad, truly, your soul never stirred in celebrating any longer. Years of war had stolen your life force, only your determination and spite sustaining you. But it was easy to wear a mask of normalcy, falling into habits to alleviate your mind of a little bit of stress, letting your consciousness float and watch your body acting from above you, a spectator instead of a player.

The warmth of the bowl certainly sang to your body, blood pumping heartily from the sustenance. But your mind was as barren as the lands you camped on, a floating ghost devoid of nearly everything, that only came to life with skill and sharpness gifted to you in battle by adrenaline.

That very familiar chemical rushed through your veins, releasing your body from its cold prison and igniting your muscles to tense, ready for action. A foreign sound had resonated around you, causing the adrenaline to release. The call was loud at first, a deep bellow sounded, followed by quick, breathless exhales of mirth and an echo of the very sound by vaguely familiar voices. It occurred to you then: laughter. The noise was laughter. You shifted your gaze around the camp, finding the young soldier who handed you a bowl howling heartily with some senior officers. How long had it been since you had heard laughter for it to sound so foreign to you?

You truly didn’t know.

It wasn’t unwelcome, but it was a disruption to your routine that allowed the voices in your head to rise louder, your mind waking to make sense of the new occasion.

What was the joke, why was your comrade so happy? asked your mind. Mild annoyance traipsed through your thoughts, uncharacteristic, but an understandable ally. This was not a place for disruptions. Anything could happen here.

What if there were TDs creeping up on the camp right now? What if they had heard the ring of joy and legions of them were gathering to snuff it out, racing here in ground-shaking gallops like horsemen of the apocalypse. You had seen so many of your allies, your friends, fall to those beasts. Resounding memories of their cheers of camaraderie in the early days echo throughout your mind, cruelly juxtaposed with visuals of their brutal deaths. The monsters taunted you, holding your loved ones’ image captive and jeering at you while they poisoned your world, your beloved city, your home.

The world around you seemed to distort at the thought, the sky dropping. You were caged in by some invisible force, and noisy panic bubbled in your chest. Air began to feel denser, a newly elusive substance your lungs had to chase. The very thing you began craving seemed to mock you, seeming to grip your ribs and crush them inwards while refusing to let you draw in a breath. Your chest stuttered and attempted to heave before being yanked back by your achingly empty lungs as you began hiccuping for breath. Only when your airways started to sting and your face began to numb did you realize your situation and manage to gasp for breath.

You didn’t know how long had passed after you wheezed the sound of panic. You felt nothing until the bowl you were clutching was removed from your lap. A large hand came to rest on your shoulder, replacing its warmth. A scent so familiar that it unconsciously calmed you followed its motion: a fresh forest breeze tinged with the sharp sting of metal. The air began to flow in smoothly, enriching your body. A cooperative ally once more.

“Breathe, soldier,” the strong voice rumbled.

General Jiyan. Your general, Jiyan. The air once again blessed your bloodstream, feeding every inch of your body and once again giving you the gift of life. You had begun to breathe slowly and deeply, just as you had learned in training. In for four, hold for four, out for four. The familiar timings of the count served to calm both your body and mind.

The presence of safety, of your general’s strength near you, was a very welcomed gift. You sighed from your chest once the world had returned to clarity and life size in your vision and you once again heard the murmur of celebration around you. Unfortunately, your reaction was not unfamiliar to you. The toll of seemingly endless battle drew on your very soul, leaving your body weak and weary. And yet, after dozens of times, not even a decorated soldier under the great General Jiyan could manage to snap yourself out of the hell on Earth that was your own mind, not on your own, not in a way that left you sane.

“I’m sorry, general. I let my head get the best of me. Thank you for-“

The hand on your shoulder squeezed gently but firmly, a message to stop talking. As you looked up to gaze in the golden eyes of your general, you were met with pure gentle care. His understanding smile reached his eyes.

You caved to your pure exhaustion. Wordlessly, he let you relax into him, your head coming to rest against the front of his shoulder. You sighed once more, lungs filling to capacity and deflating equally in rhythmic undulation as your spirit came back to inhabit your body, bit by bit. Your general was so warm, so caring, so safe. Eyes closing against his form, your breathing slowed even without your measured counting. One steady hand gripped your side while the other came to rest along your shoulder blade, forearm resting comfortingly against your tired back. He rubbed gentle circles firm into your spine, grounding and soothing the ache in your muscles.

“Don’t speak. Ive seen you pick up extra shifts, push yourself hard. It is the most worthy of causes, no one here faults you, least of all me. But your work is done today, soldier. Rest.”

There was no hint of a waver in his voice, no false sympathy or concern. This was General Jiyan. This was safe. You nodded into his chest, accepting the help you so desperately needed. Jiyan hummed his approval as he continued to soothe your back. You could feel him brush away the dusr, replacing its tentative shield with his own unrelenting one. Your very bones seemed to breathe again, and your thoughts wandered not to the chaos and havoc of the war, but to the warmth and comfort of your general’s presence as you were surrounded by a joyful camp, grounding you instead of letting you dissociate. This was safe, and so, you breathed.

[ultrone]

we never change !

you piss shauna off during a hockey match after not seeing each other for three years ҂ smut with plot; childhood friends to strangers/enemies, aggressive hockey player!shauna, powerbottom!shauna, angry fuck ﹙6k wc﹚ special thanks to @soffsh for teaching me abt hockey for this lmaoooo

⌒ ⭑⭒ 🏒

the air was crisp and cold. you stood at the center of the rink, your breath fogging up in the cold air. the weight of the hockey stick in your hand was comforting, a steady reminder of countless hours of practice and the fact that you needed to win this game to make it to nationals. the referee held the puck aloft, ready for the face-off.

on the opposite side of the rink, facing you, were the wiskayok university team—your old schoolmates and the team you played with back in your freshman year of college, nearly three years ago. you expected to face them, but you weren’t aware of who was on their team now. as you scanned the line of players, your heart skipped a beat. there she was, shauna shipman, wearing the familiar wiskayok jersey, her face set in a determined frown.

seeing her felt like a punch to the gut. you had played together since childhood, all through high school and into your freshman year of college. while you were part of the hockey team throughout those years, she chose soccer because her best friend, jackie, had convinced her to do so. nevertheless, the two of you would meet at the rink every day after your respective practices and engage in one-on-one games for hours.

however, you wanted more. you truly desired a future in hockey and couldn’t bear to let it go after graduating. so, when you were scouted for a better team, you couldn’t turn down the offer. unfortunately, it was about a four-hour drive away from wiskayok, which wasn’t too far, but still significant.

since you left, shauna kept up with her sticks and equipment, going to the rink alone. you figured the hockey coach must have noticed her talent and invited her to join the team, and she agreed. it made sense because she always talked about hating soccer and wanting to play hockey with you instead. you never understood why she didn’t.

everything you learned about shauna after transferring was against your own will, including that she had a big fight with jackie back at the end of junior year because she was fucking her boyfriend behind her back, or so you heard from tai, your best friend. it was a shitty thing to do, but by then, you couldn't care less. tai was the only one you kept in touch with over the years, as shauna completely ghosted you when she found out you were leaving; it hurt you a lot, but she had always been that stubborn and resentful.

you hadn't seen her since you transferred, and now, there she was, standing on the opposing team. though you had to admit that hockey suited her better; you always felt she was too aggressive for soccer and way too skilled at hockey. you wondered if she even noticed you yet.

the referee's whistle cut through your thoughts, and as the puck dropped, the game began.

the first minutes of the game raced by. the puck was a streak of black against the white ice, darting back and forth as both teams fought for control. you could hear the scrape of skates against the ice, the thud of bodies colliding, the sharp crack of sticks meeting in a battle for the puck. shauna proved herself a skilled player, even better than you remembered—swift and precise in her movements, her stick-handling skills evident. despite the shock of seeing her, you found yourself matching her stride for stride, a sort of rivalry flaring up.

one thing that stood out about shauna was how easily she could be provoked. it surprised you a little, as whenever you played together back in the day, although she was always determined, there was always an underlying gentleness in the way she played against you. nevertheless, it didn’t surprise you as much, as you always knew she was fiercely competitive. any perceived slight or challenge on the ice would set her off. a well-placed block, a successful steal of the puck, or even a smirk after a well-executed play could get her blood boiling. you knew this, and you used it to your advantage. you played her like you would any opponent but with the added knowledge of what made her tick. you could see it in the way her eyes narrowed, the way her grip tightened on her stick.

as shauna streaked toward the goal with the puck, determination etched on her face, you anticipated her next move. swiftly, you closed the distance, delivering a decisive hit that sent her crashing into the boards with a resounding thud. pinning her there for a moment, you watched as frustration flashed across her features. before she could react, a teammate swooped in, stealing the puck from under her nose and launching it into the net with a triumphant slap shot.

“missed me, shippy?” you taunted, a smirk playing on your lips. enraged, shauna shoved you with all her might, fury and disbelief evident in her eyes, before swiftly skating away, her focus now fueled by a burning desire for retaliation.

as the game continued, shauna’s anger seemed to intensify. she began to target you more frequently, her every move a clear indication of her growing resentment. each time she had the puck, she would charge at you with renewed vigour, her eyes locked onto yours as if challenging you to a duel. her aggressive playstyle was a stark contrast to the one-on-one games of the past, and it was clear that she was using her pent-up anger as fuel for her performance on the ice. despite the tension, you couldn’t help but admire her dedication and skill. it was evident that hockey was indeed her true calling.

as the game neared its conclusion, both teams remained locked in a tie with only a few minutes left on the clock. seizing an opportunity, you found yourself in close proximity to shauna, who had previously pushed you aggressively. seeking revenge, you swiftly tripped her, causing her to stumble and fall to the ice. without hesitation, you followed up by literally sitting on her back, pinning her down.

"get the fuck off me," shauna spat out in frustration as she struggled beneath you. you couldn't help but giggle at her reaction, but before you could react further, she exploded with rage. as soon as stood up and turned to skate away, she leaped onto your back, sending both of you crashing to the ground. you quickly turned around to face her, only to receive a punch square in the face.

the referee’s whistle pierced the air, bringing the game to an abrupt halt. he quickly skated over, placing himself between you and shauna. you could feel the warm trickle of blood from your nose, but you swiftly wiped it away with your glove, refusing to show any sign of weakness.

“shipman, penalty box, five minutes!” the referee commanded, pointing towards the box. his voice echoed in the silent rink, the spectators waiting with bated breath for shauna’s reaction.

“that’s not fair! she started it!” shauna protested, her voice filled with indignation. but the referee was unyielding.

“another word, shipman, and it’ll be a game misconduct. now move!” he threatened.

with a frustrated huff, shauna begrudgingly skated towards the penalty box, shooting you a glare as she passed by.

as the game resumed, shauna’s absence on the ice was immediately noticeable. her aggressive defense and quick reflexes had been a formidable force for the wiskayok team. but now, with her in the penalty box, your team seized the opportunity. not even two minutes had passed when your teammate intercepted a pass, swiftly maneuvering through the opposing team’s defense. with a powerful shot, the puck sailed into the net, the crowd erupting in cheers. your team scored.

the next few minutes were a blur of action. your team maintained control of the puck, keeping the pressure on the wiskayok team. by the time the five-minute penalty had elapsed and shauna was allowed back on the ice, it was too late. the final whistle blew, signaling the end of the game. your team won.

as the final buzzer reverberated through the arena, the crowd and your teammates erupted into cheers. you exchanged high-fives and congratulatory pats before they headed to the locker rooms, leaving their gear behind for the equipment managers to handle. however, you had to take a detour.

the punch shauna had landed on your face during the game was more than just a minor scrape. your nose continued to bleed, and the area around your eye was beginning to swell. the team’s medical staff insisted on examining you before allowing you to join your teammates.

so, while the rest of your team celebrated in the locker room, you found yourself in the serene confines of the medical room, undergoing examination by the nurse. she tended to your wound, applied an ice pack to reduce the swelling around your eye, and provided you with pain relief medication. by the time you were done and made your way to the locker room, it was empty.

as you took off your jersey and removed your shoulder pads, along with the rest of your equipment, you placed them with your teammates' gear. now only wearing a sports bra and some compression shorts, you walked towards the sink, your steps echoing in the empty locker room. standing in front of the mirror, you stared at your reflection, analyzing the wound on your face. the bruise was already starting to darken, and a trickle of dried blood marked the spot where shauna's punch had landed.

sighing, you turned away from the mirror and made your way back to the lockers. the place was quiet, the only sound being the gentle hum of the overhead lights and the faint echo of departing footsteps from the rink. you were about to reach for your bag when you heard the sound of footsteps approaching. a familiar rhythm, a familiar pace. you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

shauna.

turning to face her, you couldn't help but notice her appearance, as if she had just emerged from a shower. her hair, typically secured in a tight ponytail during games, cascaded in damp, loose waves around her shoulders, with droplets of water glistening at the ends. the wet strands shimmered under the locker room lights, adding a softness to her otherwise fierce demeanour. she sported snug black shorts that accentuated her athletic thighs, complemented by a clean wiskayok jersey. her feet were clad in white ankle socks and comfortable slippers.

her face, usually set in a determined frown during games, was now more relaxed. the warmth from the shower had brought a rosy hue to her cheeks and nose, a contrast against the chilly air of the locker room. yet, despite her outward calmness, there was an unmistakable anger in her eyes as they fixed on you.

"what the hell was that?" shauna's voice cut through the air, laced with frustration and anger.

you swallowed hard, meeting her intense gaze. "i don't know what you're talking about," you replied, trying to keep your tone steady despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins. “it’s a game, shauna. i played to win, just like you.”

"don't play dumb," shauna retorted, her fists clenched at her sides. "you know exactly what i’m talking about. tripping me, sitting on me like that. that was a cheap shot."

"you're one to talk," you shot back, "what about that punch to my damn face?"

“that was nothing but a love tap,” shauna replied, stepping forward. her tone remained angry, but there was a hint of something else now, an underlying emotion you couldn't quite place.

“you call that a love tap?” you scoffed, closing the distance until you were standing mere inches apart. "looked more like you were trying to knock my teeth out," you shot back, unable to contain the sharpness in your voice. the simmering anger from the game boiled over, fueled by the memory of shauna's punch.

"maybe i was," she replied, a dangerous glint lighting up her eyes. "maybe i wanted to teach you a lesson."

you glared at her, refusing to back down. "for what? for winning? for succeeding in life more than you?"

you could see the fury in her eyes, like a gathering storm ready to consume you both.

"no," she said, taking another step forward until your chests nearly touched. "for what you stole from me. for what you took away."

your heart skipped a beat at her words, and suddenly, you felt the warmth of her breath on your face. the tension in the locker room thickened, permeating every corner.

"i didn't take anything from you, shauna," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "i moved on, and so should you."

"i can't move on," she growled, her hands gripping your biceps tightly. “not when you left me,” she hissed, her eyes burning with anger and hurt. the intensity of her grip made you wince slightly, but you didn't pull away. "you abandoned me, and now you show up here, playing against me, rubbing it in my face!"

"i didn't abandon you, shauna," you countered, your voice rising to match hers. "i left because i had the chance to play for a better team, and you chose to cut ties with me. if you want to blame someone, blame yourself for not staying in touch."

"whatever," she muttered, her voice low and husky, betraying the blend of emotions she was feeling.

"well, if you think that's going to change anything between us, then you're fucking mistaken," you spat, seething with anger. "i don't owe you an explanation, and i sure as hell don't owe you an apology for doing what i love. this was my dream, shauna, and you knew that."

the words hung between you like a heavy cloud, casting a shadow over the locker room. for a moment, you stood there, staring at each other, your eyes locked in a silent battle. then, without warning, shauna let go of your now bruised biceps and slid her hands to your hips, gripping them tightly.

"you're right," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of your own heart. "you don't owe me anything."

you couldn't help but shiver at her touch, even though you were braced for it. shauna's grip on your hips was firm, and unyielding, as if she was trying to hold onto you in a way she couldn't while you were on the ice. her eyes burned into yours, the anger and hurt now replaced with a raw intensity that turned your legs into jelly.

"but i want something," she continued, her lips grazing your ear, her breath hot and heavy against your skin. "and i'm not above taking it," she murmured, her hand sliding lower, gripping your ass tightly.

a surge of electricity ran through you at the unexpected touch. it was aggressive, almost painful, but it sent a wave of neediness through your body.

"what are you doing?" you gasped in surprise.

"what i should’ve done a long time ago," shauna growled, her lips brushing against your neck. her hands moved up, sliding under your sports bra, caressing your breasts. you couldn't help but moan at the sudden touch, your nipples hardening under her fingers.

"you're going to pay for what you've done to me, and i'm going to enjoy every second of it," she promised, her voice low and thick with lust.

her grip on your breasts tightened, and you couldn't help but lean into her. the anger and hurt that had been building up between you for years seemed to dissolve, replaced by a raw, animalistic need.

"i'll give it to you," you whispered, your voice trembling. "anything you want."

her hands moved down your abdomen, her fingers tracing the edge of your shorts. you bit your lip as she paused, her eyes never leaving yours.

"good," she breathed, her voice a blend of longing and frustration. "because i'm going to take everything you've got."

before you could respond, she pushed you back into the lockers, her lips crashing into yours in a fierce kiss. it was aggressive, full of the pent-up emotions you'd harboured for years. her tongue probed your mouth, seeking entrance, and you opened for her willingly.

you groaned into her mouth, your hands grabbing at her wet hair, tangling in the strands as you kissed. her tongue danced with yours, possessive and aggressive as if she was trying to claim you in that moment.

shauna broke away from the kiss, panting heavily. "i should’ve punched you harder," she growled, her eyes flashing with anger. yet, beneath the rage, there lingered something else—desire. she pressed you against the lockers once more, her body molding against yours. "you ruined everything, you know that?" she said, her voice trembling with emotion.

"i know," you whispered, your own breath coming out in ragged gasps. "i'm sorry, shauna." you reached up to cup her face, trying to offer some semblance of comfort or apology, but she slapped your hand away. her anger was still palpable, and you couldn't blame her for feeling that way. "but you can't keep living like this, always holding onto the past. you need to move on."

instead of responding, she leaned in again, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, "maybe i don't want to move on. maybe i just want to make you suffer for what you did." and with that, she bit down on your earlobe, hard enough to leave her teeth marks on your soft skin. you clenched onto her shoulders to contain a scream, grunting instead.

her words were harsh, but their effect on you was undeniable. your body reacted to her aggression. you moaned softly, arching into her touch. she smirked against your skin, her eyes gleaming with newfound determination.

"you like that, don't you?" she asked, her tone dangerous. "you like being hurt by me." she tugged on your ear once more, coaxing another soft moan from you. "admit it."

you hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly. "yes," you breathed, your breath hitching. "i do." you couldn't deny it any longer. there was something thrilling about shauna's anger, the way she could make you feel both pain and pleasure simultaneously.

"get on the bench," she commanded, her voice husky. you hesitated for a moment, unsure of what was happening, but the look on her face left no room for argument. you complied, settling onto the nearest bench and bracing yourself against the cold wood. she kneeled between your legs, her gaze never leaving your face. "spread them further," she ordered, her tone firm and commanding. you obeyed, feeling exposed and vulnerable as she knelt before you.

shauna's eyes roamed over your body, taking in every detail. she reached out, trailing her hands along your inner thighs with deliberate slowness. without warning, she pushed your legs apart even more, spreading you wide open. you gasped, your heart racing as she lowered her head, her warm breath teasing the sensitive but clothed skin between your legs. she moved her lips towards your inner thighs, which had just been caressed by her hands, and began placing open-mouthed kisses upon them. with each touch of her lips against your skin, the dampness in your underwear and shorts intensified. gripping onto your outer thighs with her fingers, she began to suck and nibble your sensitive skin, leaving a trail of marks all over.

you whined loudly, your hips instinctively bucking against her actions. shauna smiled wickedly against your skin, her gaze meeting yours once more. "is this what you want?" she asked, her voice thick with hunger. "my mouth on you, marking you like this?"

you nodded, unable to form a coherent response. your entire body was on fire, craving more of her touch. she grinned, her slender fingers moving towards your clothed center, pressing against it.

"so fucking wet for me," she murmured, her voice rough. "just like i imagined."

without warning, she dove in, giving a wet kiss to your dampened spot. then, she grabbed the fabric with her teeth and pulled back, letting it snap against your skin, eliciting a frustrated moan from you.

“such a shame i won’t be touching you today,” she revealed, a cocky grin on her face.

you choked out a whimper, your heart pounding in your chest. “what do you mean?” you asked, confused, watching her release her hold and stand up from the ground in one swift motion.

“take off my shorts,” she commanded, her tone stern.

not wanting her to get more enraged than she already was, you immediately complied with her request. sliding your fingers around her waistline, you pulled them down, finding it a bit more challenging than expected, given the big size of her glutes.

“now, take off my underwear with your teeth,” she ordered with the same tone.

your eyes widened slightly at her instruction, but you did as she asked. biting the edge of her panties, you carefully pulled them down her legs, revealing her shaved pussy. you couldn't help but notice the wetness glistening on her lips.

shauna stepped out of her underwear, her eyes never leaving yours. "lick me clean," she ordered, her voice low and demanding. you hesitated for a moment, but she grabbed your hair and yanked your head forward, pushing her pussy against your mouth.

"don't make me repeat myself," she growled, her fingers tightening in your hair.

as one of her legs positioned itself on the bench right beside you, you took her into your mouth, her taste flooding your senses. she groaned, her hands tangling in your hair, guiding you. "just like that," she growled, her hips bucking slightly.

you eagerly obliged, licking and sucking at her clit, while gently spreading her folds apart with your fingers. she tasted salty and sweet, her taste making you even more aroused than before. her hips jerked and bucked, her breath hitched as she ground herself against your mouth.

"fuck, yes," she moaned, wrapping her fingers in your hair, holding you close to her. "that’s it, sweetie,” she smirked down at you, her eyes almost playful now, despite the harshness in her voice. her taste was intoxicating, and you couldn't help but moan into her folds. her wetness slicked your tongue as you sucked her clit, thrusting your tongue deep into her.

shauna groaned, her fingers tightening in your hair as she ground against your face. "that's it," she panted, her breaths coming faster. "make me come."

you redoubled your efforts, eager to please her and make her feel good. her clit was hard and swollen, pulsing against your tongue as you sucked and licked it. her wetness coated your mouth, mingling with your saliva, creating a strange but delicious taste.

shauna's breaths grew ragged, her hips bucking against your face, guiding you to her core. "you like that?" she murmured, her voice thick with lust. "you like eating my pussy?"

you moaned into her, barely able to form coherent words. "i love eating your pussy," you gasped, your own arousal throbbing between your legs. shauna let out a triumphant growl, her hips thrusting even harder against your mouth. "good girl," she praised, her voice rough. "now make me come."

you sucked her clit harder, your tongue dancing over her sensitive bundle of nerves. you were sucking so hard you could barely breathe, feeling suffocated between her swollen folds. shauna's breaths grew even more ragged, her hips bucking wildly. "oh, shit," she swore, her grip on your hair tightening. "i'm close…"

the sight of her losing control turned you on even more, your arousal pulsing in anticipation. you knew you wouldn't last much longer, but you needed to make her come first. you increased your pace, focusing on her clit, flicking it with your tongue rapidly. shauna's moans grew louder, her body trembling as she neared her climax. you could feel her muscles tense, her wetness coating your face as you continued your assault on her clit. she was so close, her cries growing louder and more desperate. “f-fuck, i’m coming, i’m coming–” she moaned out.

and then, she did. shauna's orgasm hit her hard, her entire body shaking as she came. you felt her wetness flood your mouth, her walls clenching around your tongue. “god,” you gasped, your mouth full of her juices. her orgasm was intense, leaving you breathless and aroused.

you swallowed her juices, still trembling from the intensity of her orgasm. you hadn't even realized you'd cum, but the feeling was unmistakable. a wave of pleasure washed over you, leaving you weak-kneed and breathless. you pulled back, looking up at her with wide eyes, your cheeks glistening with her wetness. you stammered, embarrassed and surprised. "i… i c–’

“did you just cum without me even touching you?” she asked, her tone stiff, though a glint of pride and cockiness shone in her eyes.

"yeah," you muttered, your cheeks flushing. you couldn't believe you'd cum just from eating her out. you'd always been sensitive, but this was something else.

shauna studied your face for a moment, her expression unreadable. "well, i guess that's a first," she said finally, her voice rough. "it’s kinda pathetic if you think about it," she said with a smirk, subtly attempting to make you feel ashamed.

"pathetic?" you echoed, feeling a bit defensive. "i thought you'd be happy i made you feel good."

she snorted, adjusting her jersey. "you made me feel good, but you came without me even touching you," she repeated, a smirk on her face. "that's gotta be a record."

you crossed your arms, feeling a bit self-conscious. "i don't know why you're making such a big deal out of it," you huffed, glaring at her. she simply laughed, shaking her head.

"whatever," she replied. "i’m nearly done with you yet." she motioned for you to come closer.

you hesitated for a moment, but she pinched your injured nose gently, pulling you up by it. “f-fuck!” you cried out in pain, pushing her away as you covered your nose with your hands, which started to bleed once again.

she tugged on your hair aggressively, forcing you to look at her. “don’t fucking do that again,” she threatened. “take your clothes off.”

you quickly stripped off your clothes, standing naked in front of her once more. her eyes raked over your body, taking in every inch of you.

"i'm gonna fuck you now," she growled, pulling you closer. pinching your cheeks with one hand, she brought you close to her face, licking the blood trickling from your nose in a long, deliberate lick. "and you're gonna take it like the little bitch you are."

you gulped, your eyes widening as she pushed you onto the end of the bench, her body following you down. she straddled your waist, her eyes never leaving your face as she used her hands to guide you back until you were lying flat on the bench.

you couldn't help but shiver at her dominance, her words making your body ache for her. even after everything, you still wanted her, and that realization left you feeling helpless.

"what are you waiting for?" she growled, her eyes flashing with irritation and longing. you bit your lip, eyeing her in confusion. "put your hands above your head," she ordered, her tone firm. obeying her command, your heart pounded in your chest.

shauna leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear as she spoke, her breath hot against your skin. "if you try to escape or resist, i'll break something," she warned, her voice low and laden with menace. you swallowed hard, your body trembling in anticipation.

you winced in pain as she gripped your cheeks again, your nose still throbbing from her earlier pinch. “and if you make a sound, i’ll fucking break your nose this time,” she threatened, her warm breath wafting against your face.

you whimpered at her threat, your body trembling involuntarily. shauna grinned, her eyes gleaming with malice. "understand?" she asked, her voice rough.

you nodded quickly, your heart still racing. you knew she meant what she said, and you weren't about to test her. she released your face, reaching down to spread your legs wide. her eyes roamed over your wet folds, her breath catching at the sight.

without warning, she pressed her wet pussy against yours, her knees digging into your thighs. she was wet and hot, her scent filling your nostrils as she thrust against you. the sensation was intense, her wetness coating your skin as she moved against you. you clenched your jaw, trying to remain still despite the pleasure coursing through you. shauna's eyes met yours, her expression full of satisfaction.

you bit your lip, attempting to hold back any sounds of pleasure as she continued to grind against you. but it wasn't long before your body betrayed you, a soft whine escaping your lips. shauna's eyes narrowed, her grip on your thigh tightening. "i warned you," she growled, her voice dangerous. she slapped you hard across the cheek, the sting causing tears to well up in your eyes. "that wasn't a request," she growled, slapping you again as you bit your lip to hold back a cry. "remember that."

whimpering, your body tensed in pain, your nails digging into the bench for support. shauna's thrusts were brutal, her movements relentless. she slammed against you without mercy, each thrust sending waves of pleasure and pain coursing through you. biting your lip harder, you tried to hold back any noise that might earn you another slap.

"i'm gonna cum all over you," she growled. increasing her pace, your bodies slid against each other in a messy, wet rhythm. clenching your fingers tighter around the bench, you tried to hold back your urge.

"say it," she demanded, her voice fierce.

"cum on me," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "cum all over me," you repeated, your voice louder, though hoarse.

she smirked, her eyes flashing with satisfaction. "that's my girl," she purred, her voice full of triumph. she thrust harder, her hips slamming against yours as she reached her peak. you could feel her pussy clenching around you, her juices coating your skin.

as she came, she leaned down, her lips brushing against yours. "this is what happens when you piss me off," she hissed, her voice threatening. you shivered, her words sending a chill down your spine.

she pulled back, your bodies sticky and slick with each other's fluids. she looked down at you, her expression cold and distant. “now, clean me up,” she commanded. you were exhausted, but you knew better than to defy her. you licked your lips, swallowing the lump in your throat. “yes,” you mumbled.

she smirked, her gaze dark. she positioned herself above you, her pussy hovering over your face. you closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and then began to clean her as thoroughly as possible. her hands gripped your hair, her nails digging into your scalp as you worked. you could feel her breathing becoming heavier, her body trembling above yours. she groaned, her hips bucking slightly as you licked her clit.

though tired, you continued to lick and suck, your tongue exploring every inch of her. she could tell you were exhausted, but that didn't deter you. instead, you worked harder, your tongue dancing around her folds with precision.

as you licked, shauna's breathing grew heavier, her hips bucking slightly. you moaned into her, your lips brushing against her skin, and she growled, her hands digging into your hair. "keep going," she ordered, her voice rough.

releasing her hold on your hair, she instead grasped your wrists, pinning them above your head once more with her hands, using them as leverage as she moved her hips in a front-to-back motion against your tongue. you groaned softly into her, feeling her weight on your wrists as she pressed against your face. her movements were rough, her hips slamming against your mouth, forcing your tongue deeper into her. you whimpered, your body trembling.

she thrust against you, her movements becoming more erratic as she approached her climax. you could feel it, her muscles tightening around your tongue as she neared the edge. "oh, fuck," she moaned, her voice hoarse. your tongue flicked against her clit as she came, your body shuddering beneath her. she cried out, her body trembling as her orgasm swept over her. you lapped at her, cleaning every last drop of her juices from her center and inner thighs.

when she finished, she pulled back, your tongue sliding from her body. she released your wrists, her eyes studying your face, drenched in her juices and dried blood from your nose. "get dressed," she commanded, her voice cold and distant.

you nodded, your body trembling as you sat up. your arms felt sore where she had held them above your head, but you ignored the pain, dressing as quickly as possible. she watched you with a critical eye, her expression unreadable.

she smiled, her eyes lighting up with a dangerous glint. "i know you're not leaving until next week," she stated, her voice calm and matter-of-fact. "i'll pick you up tomorrow after dinner."

you gulped, your mind racing. you knew better than to argue. "okay," you whispered, your voice barely audible. she grabbed your neck, her fingers digging into your skin as she pulled you close, your eyes widening as she choked you slightly.

"but first…" she whispered, her eyes gleaming dangerously. she licked the side of your face, her tongue tracing the line of her earlier slap. the mixture of her juices and your blood was still present, and she savored the taste as she licked it up.

"mmm," she hummed, her eyes flickering with satisfaction. "you taste just as good as you look." she leaned down, pressing a quick, hard kiss to your lips. her lips were rough, her tongue invading your mouth for a moment before she pulled away.

"see you tomorrow," she said, her voice cold. with a sudden movement, she slapped your ass before turning on her heel, walking away without a second glance.

you stared in shock as she left. "this can't be real," you told yourself, running your hand over your neck, feeling the pain shooting through the bruises beginning to form there. your breathing was shallow, and your mind still spun from the sudden turn of events. you stumbled into the bathroom and splashed water on your face, trying to tidy yourself up as much as possible before gathering your belongings.

stepping out of the locker room, you spotted tai waiting for you, as she had offered to give you a ride home. "the fuck took you so long?" tai huffed, sounding annoyed.

"sorry, got held up by some of my groupies in the lockers," you quipped, causing her to roll her eyes. it wasn’t until she noticed your disheveled appearance, which you had done a terrible job of hiding, that her expression changed to one of concern.

"hey," she said, her voice softening as she rubbed your back. "you okay?" she asked.

you nodded. "yeah, i'm fine," you murmured, “rough game,” you said with a tired chuckle.

tai eyed you suspiciously, but didn't press further. "let's go," she said, leading you out of the rink and towards the parking lot.

[octuscle]

Dear Chronivac Support,

I am a nerd who doesn't get high grades, despite studying a lot my grades are not the best, and my roommate is a smart jock. He's muscular, handsome, well-groomed, and intelligent. I find this an affront to the balance of stereotypes. How can I adjust the Chronivac so that he slowly loses intelligence until he becomes a traditional dumb jock with grades much worse than mine?

We are in the Holy Week… And envy is a mortal sin. You're not seriously asking me to punish your roommate just because he's smarter, more handsome and more charismatic than you are? But we can do something about the fact that you look like a nerd but are more of an intellectual jock! We can equalize that!

When you wake up the next morning, it's somehow no longer your room. There are posters of ice hockey and football players on the walls. There are lots of dirty clothes, pizza boxes and beer cans on the floor. It smells a bit. But it could also be you. A deep breath from your armpit. Yep, you're not entirely innocent of the smell. You didn't shut down your computer last night. The porn site is still open. And you haven't wiped away the wank stains on the keyboard either. You're a bit disgusted with your own place right now. But only for a few moments. Hey, you're young, you're having fun, if the dirt bothers you, clean it up. And your cool flatmate doesn't mind. Even if he's a lot tidier himself.

No clean clothes in your wardrobe again. You could now ask your bruh if he has anything for you. But unfortunately, his clothes wouldn't fit you anyway. You are separated by a few kilograms of pure muscle mass. But if the lectures are boring again, you'll go to the gym and try to catch up with your muscles. And the next lectures will be boring. So you can actually go straight to university in the clothes you want to work out in afterwards.

As you stand in front of the mirror in your smelly, dirty tank top and old, washed-out sweatshorts, you think for a moment about how silly you look. The clothes are two sizes too big for you. And with your nerdy pot haircut, everything looks even worse. You grab one of your flatmate's caps. Much better! And off you go.

Shit, you chose business studies so you wouldn't have to do so much math. It's a hell of a lot of math. The exams are back today. C-. Shit, damn it! You've got so much… Well, to be honest, you haven't studied at all. Even though he's sitting three rows in front of you, you can see your roommate grinning. You can already imagine what kind of grade he got.

You took your bad mood out on the weights. Hehehe, three hours in lectures, four hours in the gym. Good ratio. If only your parents knew. They would certainly cut your monthly allowance. But who's going to tell them?

When you get home, your flatmate is snoring on the sofa. His exam is on the table. A-. Well, everyone has a bad day. His snoring is contagious. You just manage to make yourself a protein shake and down it. Then a proper protein fart. Yeah, that was a good one! And then you collapse onto the sofa.

You dream that you are a nerd. But not one of those who have a doctorate in physics after two semesters. One who is clumsy in sports and dumb in math. Someone with just two single hairs on their chest. One with a fluffy, fuzzy beard. And one with no muscles at all. Crazy dream! Although, the part about being dumb at math… That's true!

[serendipity-by-chance]

new chapter of bllk has me screaming so bad i must talk about it!!!!

we finally have the kaisagi team up that i've been calling for since ages ago! this isn't a surprise. not when we've seen time and time again how characters who are rivals in bllk reluctantly (and sometimes not so reluctantly like now) team up to defeat the opposing team. isagi-nagi, barou-isagi, and even rin-isagi to an extent. so this was definitely coming.

but also wanna talk about this in terms of michael's character bc apparently there were people doubting that michael would agree? which is so funny to me? the way people don't understand michael's character is so funny to me.

Michael Kaiser wants to be the best. He wants to win. If you think he won't seize every opportunity he can to win this game then u really have been reading this manga so far with ur eyes closed. the kaiser who would deny isagi's offer of team up is the one who was still stuck to his old ways and clung to his pride. Michael in this game quite literally discarded his pride. He chose to do it bc he realised his pride and refusal to change was causing him to stagnate. which is also what prompted him to discard ness. the moment he changed, he was saying "please" to raichi. RAICHI. a player michael doesn't even consider on the same level as him like?? if he can do that so that he can win why wouldnt he team up with isagi?

people don't get michael's character and its so ??? to me. also u dont get bllk rivals either. time and time again we've seen bllk players who are intense rivals having to cooperate with each other for the greater win. nagi-isagi, barou-isagi, rin-isagi. like it has happened before and it will continue to happen. bc despite the whole best striker and everything, its still football. a game that is very much about players cooperating with eo.

so. michael teaming up with isagi isnt a surprise. this is an opportunity for him to seize a win and prove that he's the best in his generation.

[sparkbeast20]

What are Unholyc's

This was brought to my attention cause I saw this post by the @thrones-of-buer

Now, Spoilers for Love Unholyc.

Unholyc's are:

Unholyc are the descendants of Asmodeus, an ancient demon king of lust that descended upon this land a long time ago.

Apparently, he fell in love with humans and gave birth to the first generation of Unholycs. They resemble Asmodeus in that they have the ability to charm and seduce others while being able to use powers like most devils.

In Love Unholyc (PrettyBusy)

Story:

The player is named Mir by default. Though an Unholyc, she isn't interested in anything other than games and isn't able to fully control her charm ability. However, she is always extremely happy and active. Her coming of age ceremony is approaching and she might become a decent Unholyc after that. (…Maybe?)

Mir lives alone with her butler, William, who takes care of everything in the house and is very devoted, despite his aggressive personality. We are hinted that she is from a great Unholyc lineage but isn't conscious of it.

To get successfully past her coming of age ceremony, she needs a lot of acme, vital energy she can get from a contract with another being. Following the instructions of a letter she received from a very prominent Unholyc, she goes to a tailor shop where she meets three very handsome men with an aura resembling an Unholyc.

She accidentally starts the contract ritual. Though she discovers that they are humans, they all agree on the contact anyway.

The whole story revolves around Mir/MC getting through the seven days to complete her coming-of-age ritual to become a full pledged Unholyc.

In Season 1 of the game Mir/MC is focus on growing her connection with the three main Love interests Jung Hi, Sol, and Leo.

(Using this cause I like their season 2 sprites much better then their season 1's sprites)

Through out the week, you will choice dialog with some are specific for a love interest. Beware there are comedic/bad endings in the game if you don't get Affinity(Relationship) Levels.

But on the seventh day, base on you're choses. The Li who has most affinity will be your main route in season 2.

However Season 1 ended with Eater (The main threat and you're other love interest for season 3) killing the three Lis and William (Your Butler/other love interest for season 3) use his ability to manipulate time, restarting the week.

And that where we start with Season 2, Mir/MC going back to Ripeato where she meets the three again, they remember what happened and promise to not let what happened on the seventh day again and promise to protect Mir/MC.

Unholyc's Ability

It seems that base on both games, Unholycs and Devils have specific ability.

In WHB each devils have a specific talent/ability and some like healer class would be affiliated to a certain region.

In LU, William has the ability to manipulate time how ever what happened with S1, his paid the price and his body reverted back into-

Anywho

There is a character named Pierce who has the ability into the future.

Eater has the ability to eat other Unholycs and take their abilities.

There are three others, Zenon, Shallote, and James Roger but I can't remember what their abilities are.

Can a human be an Unholyc?

The answer is yes... Though...

I want to mention cause my possible theory of Minhyeok doing this ritual and becomes an Unholyc lol.

There also this.

What William is talking about here, happened. This was Sol's Dark/Bad ending.

*I still what to see a DLC for each of the bad endings*

Connection to What in "Hell" is bad?

And that's it.

Hope this helps y'all :D