#this is the soft moment I was talking about in that earlier ask game answer

[itfitsitshipsart]

Pairing: Hattori Hanzo x Evelyn(OC/SelfInsert)

Summery: After the Battle at Sekigahara, Hanzo and Evelyn discuss their futures, and if she is planning on returning to her time in the future.

People cheered and laughed at the newfound peace, and celebrated loudly with drink and song. This was all well and good, Evelyn herself would have happily joined in the festivities at least a little bit, but that evening the lights were too bright, the voices too loud, and the thoughts she was having were too heavy. Silent as a spider on the wall, Evelyn slipped out of the party, and stepped out into the cool night.

It had been about a year since that fateful day. When she found herself awaking in the forest beside a strange man. It was good fortune that Hanzo had just happened to pass by at that time, and felt it in him to save her. Or perhaps it was fate. After all that had happened, she wasn't willing to dismiss the idea.

Evelyn reached into her sleeve and pulled out a small crystal. It was hardly larger than her pinky, yet glowed a pale yellow without any light shining upon it. So much, because of this. Because of Amrita.

"Not enjoying the party?" A deep voice questioned. Evelyn quickly turned around, stowing away the crystal as she did so, and smiled at Hanzo.

"I'm enjoying it," she responded. "But you know how I get around too many people."

Hanzo nodded in understanding before walking up to her. His gaze was soft under his always stern brows, and he slowly raised a hand up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Evelyn's ear. She blushed in response, and glanced down for a moment.

"Perhaps you will join me for a walk then?" Hanzo held out his hand to her, and she smiled before taking it.

"I'd love to."

The two walked off and the sound of people was soon replaced with crickets. The breeze was cool, and Hanzo's arm ended up comfortably around her as they moved.

"What are you planning to do now that war is over?" Evelyn's question was sudden, and caused a pause in the walking. Hanzo looked up to the dark sky.

"Things will not change much for me I'm sure." He stated. "War or peace, my job is to lead and be a ninja." he paused for a moment, and then turned to Evelyn, giving the question back. "And you? You're still searching for a way back home, right?"

"To be honest, I'm not quite sure anymore." She leaned against him, her gaze down to the ground. "I've figured out that I most likely got here by Amrita, but others coveting those crystals were part of this entire war. They aren't things to be used lightly, so even if I did know how exactly they brought me here, I couldn't say I'd want to use them in such a way to return. Besides," Evelyn pushed her glasses up her nose. "I've… grown quite fond of some aspects of living here."

Hanzo tilted his head a little, and watched as a faint blush dusted her cheeks. Her body pressed gently against him more, and she let out a quick sigh.

"Remember what you said some months back? About how you would miss me and I'm not replaceable to you?"

"Yes, I remember." Hanzo nodded. "And those are still my feelings."

"Then, if I did happen to stay… what would we be? What… would you want for the future?"

Hanzo couldn't answer right away. Evelyn had turned to quickly face him, and her hand gently went to her chest. She gazed at him with large eyes, those eyes that he always felt entranced by. He had resigned part of himself to the fact that she'd leave, that one day she would wish to return to her own time, and their fates would lead them apart. But if that wasn't the case, what would he want?

Hanzo slowly took her hands into his own, they were so soft and delicate to him. If fate would let them stay together…

"I would never let you go then." He softly stated. "If you stayed, I would do all I can to protect you, and make you never regret your choice. If allowed, I would make you mine."

He watched intently as Evelyn turned away, her face red. She chuckled softly, a flustered grin trying to appear on her face. Soon, she let it grow and smiled at him.

"You make it hard to even consider leaving, Hanzo." She laughed. "A part of me was still thinking about my original time, but I'm pretty sure I'd miss you more than anything else." She leaned forward, and gently nuzzled her face against him. He responded by putting his arms around her in a hug, and held her. After her laughter subsided, she looked up at him from the embrace. "If you promise I'll be yours, I think I have to stay then, wouldn't you agree?"

Hanzo chuckled lightly, and kissed her. Their lips lingered together well after the kiss had ended, and both hesitated to pull away from one another.

"There will be much to plan and do then if this is what we want," Hanzo stated. He closed his eyes, and tightened his embrace. A small smile graced his lips. "But we should wait until tomorrow to start."

"Alright," Evelyn nodded.

[poguehearted77]

Imagine y’all just had the fight of your lives (maybe over his dumb gun or something equally Rafe), but later when you’re lying on opposite sides of the bed, he reaches out and pulls you close and says somthing cute or annoying idk And then, oh my GOD—it’s slow, emotional, and HOT because making up with Rafe would be next-level intense. please i NEEED😫😩

OH MY GOD YES. SOME SWEET RAFE AND EVEN SWEETER MAKE UP SEX AFTER A HUGE FIGHT. NEED IT.

#2 from my drabble game

smut: penetrative sex, some praise, I love you's, unprotected sex

Rafe is in deep shit.

You know that, he knows that-- hell, even your pet beagle, Poppy knew it. For once, she bolted away the moment the front door opened, and your oh-so-handsome, conniving and deceitful boyfriend walked in instead of running towards him.

Rafe is a dead man walking. How ironic would it be if he were to die at your hands with the very same gun he'd promised you he'd gotten rid of.

His body goes rigid when he sees the weapon in your palm. A nervous gulp falls down his throat as he does his best to stand tall. "Where did you get that?" That's what he asks you, he should've never opened his mouth.

You scoff immediately, carelessly angling it around as your upset mannerisms control your arms. "Get it? You mean where did I find it." He doesn't respond which is a wise choice.

"Mr. Montogommery called me earlier, he was looking for you--said you weren't answering your phone. He asked me to leave you a message," You're pacing now, and it made Rafe nervous. You're a little crazy, but so was he. It's why you went so well together.

"Like the good girlfriend I am, I opened your office drawer for a sticky note to leave on your desk, but what did I find? The same gun you told me would never be back in the house, Rafe are you serious?!" Your arms are flailing and he's half-certain he'll catch a stray by the end of the conversation.

He steps towards you with his hands up cautiously, "Baby, give me the gun, and we can talk about this." You snap, "No! Why should I? You don't trust me with it? Why because it's dangerous? Because it could kill you! You're right, Rafe. Why didn't I think of that sooner--oh wait, I did! And you fucking lied to me, Rafe."

Your voice is enraged and bouncing off the ivory-panelled walls of the house but it dies down to a shaky one as tears threaten to spill over the brims of your eyes. "Y/n-" He holds his hand out for you, but you give him the gun instead.

You execute a sharp pivot on the tips of your toes, ready to walk away from him but he finally speaks up and you stop--not turning around, standing still, anticipating. "I'm not getting rid of the gun." It's all he says.

Had you been in the mood, you would've turned around, lounged at him and strangled him, but no, you just kept walking.

Your bedroom is freezing that night, despite it being the middle of summer, and it only gets colder everytime you glance towards Rafe as he gets ready for the bed you begrudgingly shared.

Your expression remains sour, even in your sleep, no matter how far away from your boyfriend you are. There's enough room to fit a full-grown adult between you. The isolation was holding the production of your melatonin hostage, forcing you both to lay awake, backs facing each other but hearts reaching out.

Rafe flips onto his side, staring longingly at the back of your frame. He missed you and you were right in front of him. "Baby," His voice is soft, and the pet name lands on you gently, a testament that your anger has subsided a bit.

You turn over, choosing to lie on your back and face the ceiling. You deem that he's undeserving to see your face at the moment. "I've got another gun in my nightstand." You blamed your miscomprehension on the late hours of the night because surely he did not just say what you think he said.

Rafe can see the way your chest began to rise and fall at a much more shallow pace, he had about five seconds to start explaining before you turned on him. "I told you about my past. I've done some bad things. 'Burying the hatchet' doesn't exist for everyone, and I want to be prepared for anything. When I look at a gun now, it's not a weapon anymore, it's a tool. It's protection."

Your breathing slowed, a little. He takes it as a good sign. "I can't lose you. If something happened to you when I could've prevented it, I'd never forgive myself, and I know you know that." He's right. You did know that. He dedicated his life to you, making sure that you knew that. "I shouldn't have lied about getting rid of it, and I'm sorry."

Your breathing returns to its normal pace. You lay on your side, now facing him. "Fine." Rafe scoots closer to you, a small grin working its way on his lips. "Fine?" You nod, "Yeah, fine. I forgive you, this time, but don't you ever pull some shit like this again or so help me god I will-" He quiets you with a sweet kiss.

Well, it started sweet at least.

Now you're both watching him slide in. Your warm cunt wrapped around his length delightfully. "You're fuckin' perfect, too good f'me." He groans into your ear. His muscular arms cage you in, and you've decided you'd be more than happy to die between them.

Your soft moans bounced off his brawny chest and right back in your face, "Feels so good, Rafe-" Yougaspedp as he picked up the pace, hips rolling into yours for a much deeper angle. Your back arches off the bed slightly as sweat rolls down your back and sticks to the sheets.

It wasn't long before you were both chasing your highs. Rafe always sounded so fucking hot when he was close, his deep groans pitching up to breathless whines when you purposefully clenched around him, threatening him to fill you up unrestrained. Once you came, he pulled out and finished on your heaving stomach, catching your breath.

He doesn't get off of you just yet. He balances himself on one forearm as the other hand comes up to gently move the strands of hair from your face, "I love you," he means it, his eyes say it when his mouth does. "I love you".

[entitled-fangirl]

Manhood. (P3).

Cregan Stark x wife!reader

SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT

Summary: Cregan fulfills his wet dream, doing something the two lovers haven't done before

Warnings: Oral (f receiving), dry humping, heavy makeout, dirty talk

part 1, part 2

Masterlist

...........................................................

Now becoming comfortable with one another, the two lovers spent little time outside of the bed chambers.

It became a fun game of trying a new position every night, eager to find their favorites. 

But it left them utterly exhausted when the adrenaline died down. 

It caused the burly northern man to fall asleep in odd places.

…

She found him in his study, his head resting on the wooden desk as he slumbered peacefully. A light snore came from his lips. 

She chuckled and stepped into the room as quietly as she could.

Her fingers brushed over his shoulder over his clothing, savoring the shudder that came over him and the small whine that echoed in the room.

She smirked and leaned over him, pressing herself against the back of his chair. Her lips brushed up his neck to his ear, "Cregan, my love."

Still fast asleep, a fluttering behind his eyes began to occur. 

And judging by the way his hips began to lightly rut against nothing, she could tell what kind of dream he was having. 

Whines and groans began to string from his lips as she trailed her hands over his shoulders and arms.

She tried to rouse him again, "Cregan, wake up."

He let out a soft breath. 

She gave it one last try, kissing fervently up his neck and jaw. "Cregan." Kiss. "Wake up." Kiss. "C'mon." Kiss. "Awaken, handsome man." Kiss.

She sucked a sensitive spot under his jaw, and Cregan tilted his head to give her more room. The feeling began to wake him up.

He whispered her name lightly, and his eyes fluttered open. 

She rubbed a hand over his hair comfortingly. "Sleep well?" A teasing smile came over her face.

"Hmm?" He was thoroughly confused. He pushed himself up and began to take in his surroundings. "W…" It only then really washed over him the dream he had and the reality around him.

"You alright?" She teased further as her hands continued their movement.

He smiled sheepishly. "I'm better than alright."

"I noticed." She tugged his hair playfully, "Wanna tell me what you were dreaming about?"

"Why?" He grinned. "You wanna know what my mind imagined?"

"Dare I say I want it to be about me and only me?"

He hummed. "Would you?"

She grinned. "Are you still tired?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"You didn't answer mine."

The two grinned from ear to ear. Y/n spoke first. "To bed?"

Cregan stood, knocking the chair over but not caring. He grinned and grabbed her roughly by her waist, pulling her against him. He kissed her deeply.

He pulled away. "To bed."

…

The two pulled the other's clothes off in a rush, not caring if they tore.

The kisses were so forced that their teeth clashed together, only caring to feel the other as close as possible.

She pushed him onto the bed, straddling him as her hands wandered over his bare chest.

"T… Tell me what you dreamed of…" she panted into his mouth.

He took a moment to drink her in, enjoying the thoroughly dazed look in her eyes. "You."

She smirked, "What about me?"

He pulled his face away from hers. He kissed her cheek, then down her jaw, teasing her by repeating her motions from earlier.

"I imagined your pretty thighs wrapped around my head," he whispered in her ear. 

Still straddling him, she froze in place. "W…What?"

"I have dreams of devouring you in the most sinful ways," he admitted.

They had done every position they could think of. Any way to bring the two pleasure. But never had they done that.

"But… why would you do that?"

Her quiet, confused ask took him out of the moment. "What do you mean?"

"Is that… pleasureful? For both of us?"

He reached up with a hand and caressed her cheek. "Oh, I'll find pleasure it in. Don't you fret."

"Are you sure?" She asked hesitantly.

"More than anything," he grinned.

He slowly laid down, resting his back on the bed. His head wasn't far from the headboard, but it would do. "Come, sit."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

"Are you only going to ask questions, or are you going to sit on my face, sweet girl?" He chuckled.

"But-"

He sat back up, holding her to him, "Do you not want to do this? I won't be angry."

"I do, but…" 

He tilted his head, playing with her hair as he waited for her response.

"But… how will you breathe?"

That was the one question he was sure of. "I'll be fine. If that's your only worry, then you might as well not worry at all."

She reached down to pull the rest of her small clothes off, and Cregan laid back down with a beaming smile.

Up on her knees over him, she began pulling her garments down, then hesitated. "You'll tell me if you want to stop?"

He let out a growl, grabbing the back of her thighs and pulling her up his body until her core hovered over his face, "I won't wanna stop. You're gonna tell me when you want to stop."

She held onto the headboard for balance, not expecting his sudden manhandling.

He reached up and tore her garments, revealing her to him. His mouth almost watered at the sight. "Got that?"

She nodded, "Alright."

"Now sit."

Still holding to the headboard, she slowly lowered her body.

Cregan leaned up a bit, bumping his nose against her clit.

She whimpered immediately. 

"C'mon. You can do better than that," he spoke against her slit. His breath sent a shiver up her spine.

"Cregan, please," she whispered under her breath.

Her body still hovered over him, and he was getting annoyed. He reached up to her waist and gently pushed her down, connecting his lips to her core and licking a long stripe up her folds. 

She let out a small shriek of surprise. Her hips instinctively moved back up to escape the pressure. 

Cregan mouth followed, breaking apart for only a moment before his hands wrapped around her thighs and pulled her down onto his face completely. 

As he began to suck and lick like a starved man, she held to the headboard as her only lifeline. His beard scratched at her just right. Her hips tried to jerk away, but Cregan's iron grip on her thighs kept her from doing so. 

Deep guttural moans came from her, encouraging Cregan to continue. "D… Don't stop… I c… oh, gods…"

She could feel his teeth against her, an obvious grin on the man's face as he ate her out.

One of his hands wandered up, the other keeping a firm grip on her leg. He caressed up her stomach and cupped her breast.

She placed her hand over his, encouraging him further as he began to tweak her nipple. 

He knew her body more than she did. He knew she wouldn't last much longer. 

His hand moved to her backside, and he flipped them, now pinning her down onto the mattress and beginning again from this new position. 

Her hands reached out to the sheets, grabbing at anything she could to help the pressure subside. 

Cregan pulled away for just a moment to see what he'd done. His lips and beard were smeared with her juices, and a hungry look remained in his eyes. "You want me to keep going?" He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from her.

Her chest moved up and down with shaky breaths, "Please, Cregan…" He leaned down, pausing just centimeters from her again, "This is exactly how the dream went."

Learning from before, he gripped her hip bones tightly to hold her still, his shoulders keeping her legs open. He then continued.

She reached down, grabbing his hair and tugging, as if it would pull him away. They both knew neither of them wanted him to do so, but the pleasure that was building up in her made her instinctively try to escape it.

But the harsh tugging caused a guttural groan to leave his lips. The vibrations caused a jolt up her spine.

Cregan began to lightly hump the mattress, trying to relieve the hard on he had gained since his dream in his study.

"So good," he muttered against her as his hips moved in a steady pattern.

"I need to… I…"

"I know, I know," his muffled coo sounded out.

Her entire body tensed, the feeling of her orgasm washing over her. She tried to pull at his hair again to get him away from tasting her, but Cregan was quicker. He held her down and drank up everything she gave him.

Finally giving in to her, he pulled away. 

She was utterly spent, a light sheen of sweat over her features, but her eyes shone brightly as she looked down at him. "Was this truly your dream?" She panted.

He pushed himself up and crawled over her to kiss her. The slick covering the lower half of his face came in contact with her face, but neither cared. 

His tongue pushed past her lips, exploring her mouth just as he had with her most intimate parts- both with the intent to please her.

"Just like it," he answered when he pulled away. "Only, your sounds are much sweeter when I know for certain that they're real."

 "Oh, they're very real," she grinned. "How did you know how to do all of that?"

His confidence turned to sheepishness, "I didn't. I was faking my confidence mostly. I just did what made you feel best."

She nodded, surprised by his honest confession. Her hand wandered down his chest to his small clothes, "Perhaps it is y-"

She paused, looking down at her hand.

Cregan's small clothes were wet. 

She paused, "Did you-"

"You tasted so good," he admitted with a cocky grin. "Couldn't help it."

It filled her with pride to know that her husband found his own pleasure from merely eating her out.

"Next time," she promised. "I'll focus on you, my love."

"Your attention is all I crave in this life," he smiled, kissing her again.

.......................................

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver,

[pitchsidestories]

I loved you in secret II Niamh Charles x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1188

a/n: hi, this one contains hurt/comfort, it's all fictional as always and we hope you guys like it.

Loosing against Barcelona hurt a lot but what was even more painful to you was the heartbroken face of your girlfriend who was coming towards you, the rain pattered steadily on her slumped shoulders.

In the background you saw the Barca players celebrating their entry into the Champions League final.

Even though you knew that not a single word which existed in the human language could ease away the pain right now, you whispered her name: ”Niamh-“

The defender quickly stopped you from talking more by putting a finger to your lips before pressing her mouth on to yours, giving you a passionate kiss.

The move of the brunette caught you off guard because the relationship was supposed to be a secret and you could tell that your team has been watching the two of you.

For another moment Niamh leaned her forehead against yours before she apologized quietly: ”Sorry.”

“Sorry, for the kiss or the loss?”, you frowned at her.  

“Both.”, she admitted in an honest tone.

You wanted to press on for her to keep speaking, but it was Erin who cleared her throat, so your girlfriend and you turned around to face her.

The Scottish midfielder nodded into your coach direction who didn’t look the least amused, even a little disgusted:” Sorry to interrupt you girls. I thought you should know that Emma saw you two.

Much to your surprise Niamh’s reply was: ”Good.”

“Good?! You must be joking, Niamhy.”, Sjoeke scolded the defender, she herself seemed to have appear out of nowhere.

“Do I look like I’m joking?”, Niamh asked the red-haired woman in a tone which didn’t leave a doubt about her being serious.

The German forward quietly moved away from her.

“Come on, let’s go inside, love.”, you told your girlfriend.

“Please.”, she answered, tears in her eyes because the pain of loosing 2:0 against the reigning champions of Europe was still too fresh for her not to get highly emotional about everything which was thrown at her.

In the dressing room a concerned Millie came up to both of you:” Niamh, y/n?”

“Yes?”, you lifted your chin, to look properly into your captain’s worried face.

Sounding much more annoyed Niamh mumbled through gritted teeth: ”What?”  The sadness was still there but you could feel her getting angrier by each passing minute.

“You better get home quickly.”, Millie responded softly.

“Why?”, you raised an eyebrow at her.

“She’s pretty mad.”, Guro explained. Hearing the Norwegian say this, send a shiver down to your spine, you all knew all too well who your teammate meant with she, Emma who’s facial expression from earlier was engraved into your visual memory.

Your girlfriends voice brought you back from your thoughts. “About the kiss in the rain? Emma should be mad about the game instead, how we lost it in the second half!”

She tried to keep her voice steady but the anger seeped through the words.

Millie shook her head calmly: “We all lost that game tonight.”

You sighed, looking at the tall defender: “Yes, but Millie, she has no right to hate us just because Niamh and I love each other.”

A look of empathy crossed Millies face: “No, I absolutely agree. I know it‘s been bothering Niamh for a while now.”

“Yes, she‘s tired of the hate. Especially after Emmas statement on player-player-relationships.”, you continued.

Millie nodded in understanding. You were sure that everyone in the room knew that Niamhs anger came from an accumulation of disappointing games and questionable interviews of your coach.

“But we didn‘t lose because of this tonight.”, Millie reminded you.

Niamh let out a long sigh: “No, we didn‘t.”

“Niamh.” The older team captain tried to find the youngers eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Go home.”, Millies voice was soft, her eyes full of worry for the two of you. Still, you did not dare to refuse her order.

You started packing your bags silently, trying to leave the stadium as fast as possible.

“Bye, girls.”, Niamh said plainly, not looking at any. of your teammates.

Guro forced herself to smile: “Bye.”

“Goodbye.”, you said before following your girlfriend out.

Niamh was unusually quiet on your way home. As soon as the door closed behind you and you dropped your bags, she turned towards you.

“I‘m sorry, love.”

“You don‘t need to apologize, Niamh.”, you replied, carefully reaching out to take her hands into yours.

She shook her head, avoiding your eyes: “No, I didn‘t want to get you in trouble. I was just mad.”

Of course, she made the decision to kiss you in the heat of the moment, led by her emotions and it might have consequences for you too but you could not blame her.

“We all were. And rightfully so, I mean the first leg might have been the best game of the season…”

Your girlfriend let out a tired breath: “It‘s been a weird season.”

“You can really say that.”, you nodded in agreement.

Still in thought, Niamh continued: “I didn't say anything when she first called our relationship inappropriate… but it has been bothering me the whole time.”

“Me too to be honest. But I didn’t want it to affect your captaincy.”, you admitted.

“I should have said something.”

You carefully put your hand on her upper arm and tried to find her gaze: “And loose the armband? She'll leave at the end of the season and we're staying.”

“Now that Millie is back, she will get it anyway.”, your girlfriend sighed exasperated.

“Probably., you paused for a second before adding in a hopeful tone, but we can stop hiding now, right?”

“We should have stopped much earlier. We owe that to our teammates who taught us that it’s okay.”, she confessed quietly while placing her head on your lap.

“That’s true to Pernille and Magda..”, you began.

“Fran and Maren.”, Niamh mumbled while your fingers ran soothingly through her still slightly wet hair.

“Aswell as Jess and Ann-Katrin.”

“And there are young players looking up to us.”, the defender said earnestly.

“Right. I don’t want them to feel ashamed for whom they love.”, you whispered as you wished away the upcoming tears with your free hand.

“Come here.”, your girlfriend asked you to lay down beside her which you did.

With closed eyes Niamh kissed away your hot tears.

“I love you.”, you told her, smiling sadly.

“I love you too. On and off the pitch. No matter what anyone says.”, the defender responded seriously before pulling you into a close hug.

“Do you think you can fall asleep tonight?”, you asked her cautiously.

“I’ll try too.”, she answered honestly.

“Sleep well, Niamh.”, you wished her goodnight.

“You too.”

Both of you were drifting away into an exhausted sleep, this season has been tiring. In the morning you were feeling less sad because you could finally stop loving your favourite person in secret and live your truth.

Even though not everyone might like that fact, but you felt like a heavy weight has been lifted from your shoulders. You loved Niamh and it was okay if everyone knew about your love for each other.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝

Toji Fushiguro

[Chapter 7] First Ultrasound

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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

On what you’re assuming is the start of the third month of your pregnancy, you finally manage to make an appointment for your first ultrasound. You debate if you want to tell Toji or not. Would he want to come? You’re not too sure if you’re being honest. He’s told you that he wants to be the best possible father for your child, but you don’t trust him. Given his track record, you can’t exactly trust him.

“I’m just here to drop off your money.” Toji can easily transfer money through the bank monthly, but he chooses to give it to you. Every two weeks he’s at your door with your money. You agreed to quit your second job and take his money; you still have your second job, but the nights that you know he’s coming, you take off. Toji invites himself in even if he’s just handing you an envelope. He never comes just to give you that.

“How’s work?” You ask, closing the door when he enters your apartment. You find it ironic that you talk more now than when you were married. He actually engages in conversation now, and he tries to talk to you as well, asking how you’re doing.

“Exhausting.” He answers. You can tell that he’s been working more lately, or at the very least he’s not getting proper sleep. There’s visible bags under his eyes, and he’s slowly letting himself go, at least he doesn’t give the proper care since he has a bit of a stubble; he’s also due for a haircut. “How about you? How are you holding up?”

“I’m doing okay… I’ve been dealing with a bit of morning sickness but nothing crazy.” You answer. You leave out any other of your symptoms. How your breasts are sore, you’re extremely tired (which can also be alluded back to your second job), how you’ve suddenly been having the weirdest cravings. Sure, you’re talking, but you don’t want him to know more than necessary. You try to change the topic since you don’t like having the spotlight on you, “How’s Megumi doing?”

“He’s doing fine… He has a baseball game next Thursday, if you want to come.” He informs you and you take a note of it. You’ll try to go since you have a soft spot for Megumi, but you’re not certain that you’ll make it. 

“I’ll try. Hope I’m doing better then.” You respond. He slowly nods in response, and he tries to think of something to talk about, but nothing comes to mind so he begins to walk to the door. He won’t try to waste both of your time. Before his hand wraps around the doorknob, you speak up,

“Toji…” He completely stops. Not a single breath comes from him until you speak again, “I know that you’re busy so, I’m just inviting you to be courteous… I have my first ultrasound tomorrow, if you want to join me.”

“What time?” He asks, and you tell him. At noon. He nods, and tells you, “I’ll come pick you up.”

He stands still for a moment, wondering what to do next. Wondering if you’re going to do something else. You stand in completely awkward silence for a minute before Toji realizes that nothing else will happen, so he walks out. He doesn’t say goodbye, although you don’t mind it because he never does.

Toji hasn’t been a man that’s usually punctual, so you’re surprised when he’s early. You might’ve told him that the appointment was earlier than it actually is so you wouldn’t be late, but there’s not much you can do when he’s right in front of you, thirty minutes before your appointment. The place isn’t even a twenty minute drive.

“Hi.” You awkwardly smile at him. You notice how he’s finally shaved the stubble, and you’re curious if he did so last night or this morning. “So… I might’ve– The appointment was pushed back to twelve thirty.”

“Oh– Okay.” He answers. You almost tell him the truth, but it might incite an argument so it’s best if you ignore it and tell a little white lie. He won’t question much, he never does, so you’re safe. “Did you eat something already? Do you want to grab something to eat?”

“I don’t have much of an appetite.” You respond, and he nods his head. He isn’t going to argue with you that you should eat something regardless, you’re pregnant and you have to keep yourself healthy for the baby– He isn’t your father nor your husband, you’re old enough to make your own decisions. And while Toji wishes he could say he was worried about this pregnancy, he simply isn’t. As fucked up it is to even think about it, he’s more worried about you than the child you carry.

“What do you want to do then? Do you just want to head out and wait?” He asks, and you nod your head in response, if you get lucky, your appointment will start earlier. You disappear out of his sight for a moment to grab your purse, but you’re back quickly. You exit the apartment and you begin to walk to his car. 

The car ride is silent, you don’t have much to talk about. You don’t sense him being as excited… Or excited at all about this so you’re quiet. You don’t pay him any mind. You’re over the moon at the thought of looking at your baby for the first time. You’re in disbelief that you’re about to become a mother. Finally.

You get to the place and check in. Waiting feels interminable as you sit next to Toji. He simply looks around, while you begin to play a game on your phone. Toji finds himself bored, and since he doesn’t have anything interesting to do, he chooses to try and talk to you. He clears his throat, and speaks up, “So how far along are you anyway?”

“Hm… I think, maybe three months along? I do have a bit of a bump.” You share, and Toji’s brows raise, he looks over at you, but your shirt is baggy which doesn’t let him really figure anything out. His eyes keep staring, and he finds himself frustrated at the fact he doesn’t know. If you lived with him he’d see your body better, and he’d notice every small change. At least that’s what he thinks. 

Your name is called and you stand up, following the woman to the ultrasound room. Toji follows behind, walking much slower, trying to see if he does notice a bit of a bump. The previous night you were wearing a tank top– He didn’t notice anything then. He isn’t all too observant anyway so maybe he missed it.

Toji watches as you lay down, and you begin to talk to the technician. He doesn’t pay much attention to what’s going on between you two. Until you finally lift up your shirt, and he does see a bit of a bump. It’s nothing that’s really noticeable but it’s there when you lift up your shirt, it’s definitely something he would’ve noticed if you lived together. 

You squeal as the cold gel is poured on your abdomen, and the transducer is then pressed on your skin. Your eyes then fall on the monitor, and an immediate smile comes to your lips. A little kidney bean. Your eyes well up with tears as the technician points out their little head.

“It’s just one baby, right?” Toji asks, and the technician assures him that it’s just one baby. It makes him breathe a sigh of relief. He notices you stick out your bottom lip, and he rolls his eyes. You seriously didn’t want twins, did you?

You look over at Toji, trying to see if there’s a bit of excitement behind his eyes when he looks at the ultrasound, and while it’s not clearly written on his face, you see a spark in his eyes as he looks at the monitor. He perks up when he hears the sound of the baby’s heartbeats. It’s in that moment that Toji realizes just how big this is–

He’s a father, he knows the birth of a baby is a big deal. Toji would give up his life for Megumi. But your pregnancy… The beginning of it didn’t excite him the way that his first wife’s did. Maybe it’s because he was set on not being a father again, or maybe it’s because you’re separated. Perhaps it’s because even though he wanted to use your pregnancy as a means for you to stay, you still left. He’s just focused on you and your relationship, not the fact that he’s actually becoming a father again. Doing it all over again.

He isn’t sure if he’s ready to do it all over again; but he feels the excitement slowly grow by looking at his baby and listening to their heartbeat. It’s nothing too crazy though.

When the technician finishes up, you’re handed a napkin to wipe off the gel. You do so, and you’re told to wait for the doctor. You’re smiling foolishly, thinking that you’re becoming a mother even though you had given up on that dream a while ago. Given that dream up for the man that’s waiting next to you.

“You seem really excited.” Toji comments when you’re left alone. He watches your hand go to your lower abdomen as you look up at him.

“I am. I can’t wait to meet my baby.” You answer. Toji chuckles, your excitement radiating and infectious. “Do you want a baby boy or a girl?”

“Hmm… A baby boy since I already know how to deal with boys. I have no idea how I’d raise a girl.” He responds. “How about you? Do you want a girl or a boy?”

“I don’t have a preference, I just want a healthy baby. Boy or girl.” You reply, and Toji wonders if that’s how he should’ve responded. Would that have gotten him positive points with you? Did his response fuck everything up a little more?

The doctor walks in, and she tells you what you want to hear. The baby is healthy, and growing the way they should be. You’re around fourteen weeks along– Which means you’ll be due around December, and that you’re further along than what you assumed. Your baby wasn’t conceived the night that you told Toji you’d be leaving him.

You get your ultrasound pictures, and Toji takes two, even though he tries to act like he isn’t excited.

[glamourscat]

¿Besos? | Meguru Bachira x fem!manager reader

synopsis: the manager of the FC Barcha team, helps Bachira practice his Spanish. And maybe it turns into something more

cw: explicit towards the end, Bachira's bad spanish lmao

“¿H—hola, cómo estás tú? Mi amigo mejor, pero no habla mucho bien.”

Your head turns back, eyebrows furrowing in confusion at the words you just heard. What the hell? As you enter the lounge room of the FC Barcha team you are met with the sight of Bachira, his head down and the back of his hair up thanks to a small hair clip in the shape of a bee. His tongue pokes out from his lips in concentration as he marks and scribbles on his notebook.

“Bachira?” you call gently as you approach him.

The boy’s head whips around to meet your eyes, his face lighting up immediately as he sees you.

“Y/N-chan!” he exclaims, his tone overly excited as always. Before you know it, he has pounced on you for a bear hug, his legs almost wrapping around you—almost, if it weren’t for the fact that the unexpected hug almost made you fall backward—almost though.

“¡Ay, Dios mío!, Bachira?!” you say with a small gasped chuckle as he had almost knocked the breath out of you.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, giggling quietly, his head on your shoulder tilted to stare at you with those bright yellow eyes of his. His cheeks are slightly red as he squeezes you a bit in the hug.

“Are you practicing your Spanish? I can help if you want,” you murmur, gently caressing his hair, making him almost purr at your touch.

“Sí, por favor,” he murmurs, giving you his deadly puppy eyes.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Well, that was a mistake. It’s been three hours and you two have moved from the lounge room to your dorm room. Bless his heart, but Bachira has the memory of a goldfish. Just when you think he understands a concept, he shows you that he, in fact, does not. It’s been hours of trying to teach him basic Spanish grammar, and he’s been moving, fidgeting and whining like crazy. It’s like talking to a toddler.

“If you don’t want to learn, we can stop, especially if you’re tired—”

“Noo… I want to,” he pouts, kicking his feet in the air in annoyance as he lays on your bed with you.

“You’re doing everything but that, Bachira. It’s not working. It’s okay to take a break—” you start, but he interrupts you again.

“No,” he whines, hiding his face in your legs.

“Meguru…” you say, side eyeing him, his name coming out slightly harsher than intended.

“Don’t be mad at me,” he whispers, turning to face you but still resting his head on your lap.

You sigh, rubbing your eyes for a moment. “I’m not mad… I’m just tired. We’ve been doing this for hours.”

Bachira’s eyes soften as he looks up at you, his usual playful demeanor replaced by a rare moment of seriousness. “I’m sorry, Y/N-chan. I just… I want to get better at this but it’s so difficult” he sighs, pouting a bit in contemplation.

“But, I want to keep trying. Can we do that little game you suggested earlier? The one where I ask you questions in Japanese and you in Spanish back to me and whoever gets the answer wrong, needs to take something off? Pretty please” he says, smiling a bit.

“Really? Now you wanna do that?” Your voice amused as you nudge him.

His soft giggles filled the room as he kissed your thighs gently. “Pretty please?” He repeats, stretching the last syllables.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

You don’t know how you always end up in these situations. Bachira has a way of expressing himself through his actions that make you a bit weak in the knees. And each damned time you two go from doing something productive to this… Like now. Where you got your 5th question wrong. Not that he was doing much better, left in only boxers and one sock. But it was your turn now, and since you got a question wrong this round, your bra came off.

Not surprised though, when his hands immediately found your breasts. And your lips found his. Soon it wasn’t really about the questions anymore, as the focus shifted on the rather good makeout session you two were having.

“Wasn’t part of the plan..” you moaned between kisses

“Hmm, maybe. I am not opposed to it though” he moaned back as his hips grind against yours, making you feel his erection. “Mami, hazme sentir bien por favor.” he whispers, in the most filthy whiny tone he could master.

Your eyes go wide at the words he spoke in Spanish, mouth slightly agape, staring at him dumbfounded.

Maybe, after all, the afternoon had not been wasted as you initially thought.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Mami, hazme sentir bien por favor= mummy, please make me feel good

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[uluvjay]

The easy days- J. Slafkovsky

Juraj Slafkovsky x fem! Reader

In which you bask in Juraj’s rare off day

Warnings?: Fluff, kissing, talks of burning out and exhaustion but no more I can think of, i apologize for any errors!

You woke up to the feeling of soft kisses being scattered along your cotton covered shoulder, strands of dark brunette hair tickling your jaw.

“Morning” you smiled down at the large boy tucked under your arm.

Juraj perked his head up at the sound of your soft voice, a bright smile overtaking the boys face as he leaned up to place a small peck to your lips.

“Good Morning.” He breathed resting his chin on your chest.

“What are the plans for today?” You question softly, hands working into his soft locks.

His eyes fluttered shut for a moment at the relaxing sensation of your nails lightly scratching his scalp.

“Sleep, coffee, couch, movies, food.” He answered after a moment.

“Sounds good to me.” You giggled.

The habs finally had an off day after two back to back games with a practice and another game earlier in the week and you knew your boyfriend needed a day of nothing but rest.

He’d been working his ass off and while it’s been paying off and he’s doing amazing things he still needs a day of relaxation in order to keep his young body from burning out.

Looking over at the digital clock on your nightstand you laughed realizing it was seven in the morning but you couldn’t blame Juraj for being up this early, the jet lag got ahold of him as soon as he laid in the bed last night.

“What time do you want to get back up?” You asked softly.

“Whenever we feel like it.” He chuckled softly and you nodded in agreement before placing a kiss to his head and snuggling into your pillow while Juraj resumed his position under your arm allowing himself to be the little spoon for once.

-

When you two do finally emerge from the comfort and warmth of your bed it’s just passing ten in the morning.

You both share a quick shower before getting dressed and heading to your favorite coffee shop. Snow had fallen overnight leaving a soft blanket on the streets of Montreal.

You two make small talk about his trip and how he enjoyed his multi point roadtrip, he blushed as your praised his achievements telling you it wasn’t a big deal but deep down you knew he was enjoying the praise.

Juraj parked in front of the coffee shop before making his way around to your door and opening it for you.

“Thank you kind sir.” You laughed as you step out.

“It’s no problem, I always look out for the clumsy.” He smirked as you let out a scoff and smacked his shoulder.

“I am not clumsy!”

“Coles ring camera says differently.” He giggled and you couldn’t argue with that one.

A few weeks ago everyone had gathered at Cole’s new house for dinner and the boy had told everyone to watch the patch of ice on his walkway but somehow even after trying to avoid it, you still slipped.

He took your hand as he lead you towards the door, opening it for you he followed after you stepping into the smell of fresh coffee and baked sweets.

“Do you want your usual?” He asked as you two stepped into the small line.

“Yes please.” You smiled up at him.

He gave you a soft nod before dipping down and capturing your lips in a short kiss, Juraj wasn’t big on pda but after being away for a week he missed you and he didn’t really care who saw him showing his favorite person a bit of love.

Once you two reached the counter the barista smiled brightly as she recognized you two instantly.

“Hi guys! Do you want your usual today?”

“Yes please.” Juraj smiled politely.

“Okay! That’ll be $14.07, you can swipe whenever you’re ready.” She smiled and you watched as Juraj paid knowing there was absolutely no point in trying to make him let you.

You slid two bills into the tip jar before making your way to the small waiting area, Juraj wrapped a strong arm around your shoulder as he pulled you close to his side.

“We need to finish that movie we started before you left for your road trip.” You reminded him.

“Oh yeah, we have to find some others to watch too because I plan on being on that couch for the rest of the day.” He laughed.

“Deal, what about that new horror one you wanted to see?” You asked.

“Sounds good to me.” He smiled softly, his attention pulled away from you as the barista called out your names and placed the cups on the counter.

“Thank you!” You smiled at her as you both collected your drinks and headed back to the car.

-

For the next few hours you two were wrapped up in blankets while you rested on your large sectional, your back to Juraj’s chest while he rested against the soft cushions of the couch.

You had eaten things that Juraj should’ve been staying clear from due to his strict diet but he didn’t care in the moment, he was allowed a cheat day every now and then.

You’d ran through all the new movies you two had been desperate to watch, a horror, some comedy and others dramas.

After a nice filling dinner you were back in your spot against him but this time your head was rested against his chest while his fingers raked through your hair and his nails scratched along your back under your shirt.

“Today has been nice.” You spoke softly.

“It has, thank you for everything today.”

“You don’t have to thank me J, I love spending time with you.” You smiled up at him.

“I know but some people wouldn’t do this for their partner, you didn’t have to lay around with me all day and do nothing but you did. So thank you and I love you.” He smiled.

“I love you more baby.” You giggled as you pushed yourself up to press your lips against his.

It was soft and full of passion, showing him how much he actually did mean to you without having to try and explain it in words which you struggled with.

Pulling away he gave you one more peck on the lips before settling back and stroking your cheek with his large thumb.

He could see the sleep clouding your eyes, the way they kept drooping had his heart warming, despite it being barely seven he pulled you close and wrapped your favorite blanket around you.

“Go to sleep love, I’ll be here when you wake up.” He spoke as he began to stroke your hair.

“Okay.” You breathed as you snuggled into him.

You loved hockey and loved watching Juraj live out his dream with amazing teammates and an amazing organization but there was nothing better then days like this, the days where you could spend the entirety loving on him and allowing his body to get the rest he needed.

Nothing would ever top the easy days.

-

[fashionteahouse]

So I don’t actually know how to work the interwebs and I was trying to send a video of what I’m talking about so I don’t sound crazy but anywaysss I’ll just try to explain it the best I can😅

The video shows a dad putting a flashlight to the moms belly and the baby reacting by kicking sooo I though maybe you could a Paul x reader where he’s always messing with her belly making the baby kick and tries the flashlight thing?

Anywho I hope that made sense!! You da best!🤍

dw i know what you’re talking about ;) thanks so much ! hope you enjoy :)

bb - paul x reader

The day was lazy as two bodies lie comfortably on the sofa that occupied the sitting room space. Even though your hands were filled with a magazine, your eyes look down at Paul, who soothingly rubs the skin of your stomach.

He’s not even paying attention to the sports game on the television. He takes a finger and puts a soft dent in your skin and you feel a bit of pressure. It wasn’t hard to hurt but it felt something like a butterfly.

A soft chuckle escapes Paul’s lips as he looked down in amazement. His eyes tear away from your belly to meet yours. His smile made you display your own smile.

“Did you feel that kick?” he asks you breathlessly.

You nod, really paying attention to the activity before you.

“I wonder if I can catch it on camera.” he says as he slides his phone out of his pocket.

“That would be amazing.” you tell him in a sappy voice. It would be a wonderful moment to look back on.

Paul aims it on your belly as he moves his hand in different directions to get the same reaction. The baby chose to not give the same kick that it did earlier.

Turning on the flash for the camera, he almost missed the second kick. He shoots his eyes up to you as you both laugh at this.

“Maybe they like light.” Paul states as he watches the skin of your stomach move a bit, showing the active life inside of you.

“Maybe.” you comment back, not shooting down his hypothesis.

His eyes search the coffee table as he stands up. You watch him with curious eyes to see what he’s going to do. He leaves the sitting room but before you could call him, he comes back out with an even bigger smile. A small flashlight from the kitchen drawer is in his hands.

You chuckle as you look at him, “What are you doing?”

“Im just seeing something.” he answers back and flops down next to you and switches the small light on.

Shining the light on your stomach, you both huff out a laugh once the under your skin showed a bit of movement, with you feeling the baby kick.

Paul’s smile never went away as he leaned over to kiss the same spot he’s seen the baby kick. He just couldn’t wait to meet this wonderful gift. He was dying to see what the baby would look like.

[katyawriteswhump]

the freak in the penthouse

Eddie became an accidental millionaire, coming up with creative content for a video game for his techy best bud Dustin. It's great at first… but not his dream. He winds up living in a hotel room, depressed he let his music hopes slip.

Steve, meanwhile, works in the hotel, and is desperately in debt for medical bills. When his boss asks him to get a male hooker for the ‘freak in the penthouse,' he can’t really let the ‘chance’ pass. After all, the 'freak' didn't look so bad to him, and he's done this kind of thing before when he had to...

Set in the early 90s with some period-typical homophobia. Shamelessly trope-y! This will probably go up to ‘E’ rated next chapter, but ‘M’ for now as this chapter isn’t too spicy yet ;)

also here on AO3 or search the tumblr tag #thefreakinthepenthouse

Chapter one: the freak

Eddie lingered in that warm, fuzzy twilight zone between sleep and wakefulness. He didn’t want to wake up.

His dream—at least, the parts of it trickling back to him—had been hot, hot, hot. He’d been killing it live to an insane sell-out crowd at the Hollywood Bowl and…

…what the hell?

More of Eddie’s dream filtered back. The part which explained his epic boner. He’d not been thrashing out a nine-minute-long power ballad. On that dream-stage, in front of that sell-out crowd, he’d been fucking a deadly hot, deadly cute guy.

Holy shit! That’s almost as unbelievable as anybody paying to come see me play.

He began to wake up for real. A keening sound escaped his throat. On the other hand, the joys of the night hadn’t quite evaporated.

Possibly because he’d gotten his nose buried in a mass of slightly sticky hair. 

He was spooning ANOTHER GUY.

The reality of last night rushed back. Every muscle in Eddie’s body locked up. Wow, wow, wow! And also, Shiiiiiit! 

Steve. That was the guy’s name. Eddie rubbed his nose in the nape of Steve’s neck, inhaling cheap hair gel.

Steve had been good. He’d kissed like a demon and offered up that to-die-for ass like a fallen angel. Eddie recalled rutting deep into Steve’s tight, pulsating body, till sweat stung his eyes. Yup, pure carnal pleasure was a decent distraction from being rich beyond your wildest dreams and too miserable as fuck to enjoy it.

On the flip-side, Eddie had few gripes about life at this particular moment. Slowly, careful not to wake Steve, Eddie crawled an arm over him, wandering fingers through the tangle of hair on Steve’s chest.

Bleeeeeep.

Steve cried, “Wha—?” and sat bolt upright, whacking Eddie’s arm out of the way. He blinked around, raking soft curls from his eyes. Damn. Steve was even cuter with his hair all natural, no longer slicked back.

Steve glanced at his watch and silenced the bleeps. “Crap! I’m on shift for breakfast. Gotta go.”

Steve was rushing around the room already, butt naked. Eddie sighed longingly at Steve’s ass. When Steve yanked some dark blue uniform pants from his knapsack and pulled them on, Eddie sighed even harder.

His focus drifted to the enormous clock-face painted directly onto the hideous pink paisley walls. 

“It’s 6 o’clock? In the morning?” He flipped his lank-feeling hair from his brow. “Uuuuugh. I’d forgotten there were two 6 o’clocks in the day.”

“Some of us have gotta earn a living.” Steve shoved his arms into a not particularly well-pressed white shirt then fiddled with the buttons at his throat. “Talking of which… Can I have my two-hundred bucks, please?”

…

Twelve hours earlier

“Got a job for you, Harrington,” said Kline, head concierge at the Beverly Hills Yorkshire. “Try not to mess this one up.”

Steve looked up from where he was emptying ashtrays into the trash. His least-loved superior drew close and dropped his usually bark-like voice to an undertone:

“Freak in the penthouse wants a hooker. Tonight. 8pm sharp.”

“Oh. Right.” Steve humoured Kline, answering in an equally conspiratorial tone. “Do I call the usual agency?”

“Hell, no. Freaks a freak! Wants a guy. Goddamn dirty queer.” Steve was still tipping ashtrays—best to always look busy when this sleazebag was around. Unfortunately, this meant Kline stuffed a note into the waistband of Steve’s pants, forcing Steve to suppress a shudder. “Deirdre gave me some numbers to call around. Whatever the dirty dogs quote, triple the number—no, quadruple it—before you tell the freak. We can turn a fat profit here. Reckon you can handle that? Or will the figures be too much for that air-brain little head of yours?”

After Kline departed, Steve pulled out the crumpled note. He stared at the numbers and chewed his lip. Fuck, fuck, FUCK. Could he really afford to pass this over?

He wasn’t allowed to wait tables in the silver-service grill anymore—he’d gotten one too many table orders muddled up. He was really feeling the pinch without those tips.

And the ‘freak’ had to be richer than God.

Dude had been shacked up in the penthouse for nearly three weeks now. That place cost over a thousand bucks a night. On the couple of occasions Steve had taken up room service, the guy had lurked in the gloom and behind a curtain of rocker hair. A pale hand with long, slender fingers offered out a ten-dollar bill.

He had to be a rockstar, right? Thought nobody had figured out what band he was in, and guys like that only buried themselves away to drink too much, do drugs, trash stuff, and… fuck whores.

Steve crumpled Kline’s note in his fist and resigned himself to it.  His medication had doubled in price this year, and he was reduced to sleeping in one of the hotel linen closets.

An extra hundred dollars or so would help a lot.

…

Eddie wished he hadn’t answered the phone. It was goddamn Dustin, berating him as ever:

“Eddie! Do I have to stick a firework up your butt or something? Suzie and I have got all the gameplay coding sorted for ‘Vecna’s Doom Quest II’ ready to rock and roll. All we want is for you to sprinkle your magic over the creative content, and we’ll be home and dry for another monster hit.”

“There’s the rub, Henderson. I’m not feeling wildly creative right now.”

“Then get out of that doily-saturated dumpster! Travel! Meet people! Honestly, what was the point of becoming a millionaire at twenty-four if you can’t enjoy yourself. If you’re still cut up about your music, then hire yourself another studio and—”

“You need to get off my back. After your hour-long lecture about how I needed to get laid, I went and did something stupid and now—”

“You did get a date?”

“No, I… Look, this is really not a good time, Henderson.” 

Eddie hung up. 

He instantly felt bad. Jesus, he spent his whole life feeling bad about something these days. 

He knew Dustin meant well. In his own arrogant-little-shit kinda way. Eddie probably should take his advice, go to a club, meet guys he’d like to date, and he would. If the thought of simply leaving the hotel didn’t shred his nerves ragged.

And there was no way he could tell Dustin he’d gone and ordered a rent boy on room service. After a couple of way-too-early-in-the-day shots of vodka, it’d seemed like a good idea. 

Not anymore.

Eddie picked up one of his many guitars, which lay propped alongside the ornate couch. He struck a miserably dissonant chord. The shady guy who’d sold it claimed it’d once belonged to Hendrix. Eddie hadn’t really fallen for that shit then paid a dumb price for it anyhow. On the off-chance it’d inspire some of that metal magic he’d let slip.

“Magic, Munson? You always sucked balls and you know it.”

Jesus, he was talking to himself now, and he knew he was wallowing. These past three weeks, it was all he’d done. Worse, he knew he was an ungrateful dick, not appreciating the journey he’d made from his uncle’s trailer to this.

Which made him hate himself even more.

He tossed the guitar down on the couch—would’ve smashed it, if not for just the teeniest chance Jimi did once deign to touch it. Instead, he punched one of the penthouse’s many fake-marble pillars, then whimpered, blowing on his damaged knuckles.

He was about to call down for ice—and to cancel his ‘date’—when the knock sounded at the door. He considered ignoring it. Then he noticed the time.

8pm.

Rent-boy o’clock.

He’d not realised the day had slid away so fast. It sure as heck dragged till now. He was still considering ignoring the knock, when it came again.

“Mister Munson?”

Eddie dithered a moment longer then went to the grand double doors and opened one a crack. 

His jaw dropped.

The guy waiting on his doormat was good-looking, for sure. Striking was the word that sprung next into Eddie’s mind. His slicked back hair was a touch too yuppy-frat-boy for Eddie’s taste. Eddie totally dug his eyeliner, though, which set off big chocolate eyes to perfection. A vest top revealed leanly muscled arms and was also cropped at his midriff to display a swatch of trim, lick-able flesh, intersected by a trail of wispy hair. His ripped jeans were so tight they might’ve been spray-painted on, and…

…he was also slightly familiar. Eddie was so busy gawking, he genuinely jumped when the guy spoke again.

“Hey. I’m Steve. You, uh, asked for—”

“Look, I was gonna call down and cancel. This was a friend’s idea.”  Yeah, blame Henderson, you snivelling coward. “I changed my mind, okay?”

“Oh.” Steve’s shoulders slumped, although something shifted in his eyes that might’ve been relief. “I’ll be off then… Oh hey, are you okay? What happened to your hand?”

Eddie had made the mistake of pinching the bridge of his nose with his puffy red fingers. “Oh, I’m fine. I whacked myself.”

“You want me to get you some ice?”

“Uuuuuh, hookers can do that?”

Steve winced slightly. “I actually work in the hotel. I mean, as a day job. Breakfast buffet, elevator, room service, odd jobs, that kinda thing.”

“Right.” That raised more questions that it answered. Eddie opted not to pry. “Thought you looked familiar. You look different out of—”

“Out of the shitty bellboy outfit?” Steve rolled those way too pretty eyes, and dumped a bulging knapsack by the doors. “I’ll grab that ice.”

…

Steve dashed to the nearest ice-dispenser, grabbed a first-aid kit too. He rushed back to the penthouse. His heart raced, and he felt kinda flushed, despite the arctic setting on the air con.

Up close, the ‘freak’ was pretty good-looking, if slightly Goth-y and pale. And Steve had to get out of the nasty-ass habit of thinking of him as ‘the freak.’ Now he’d gotten face-to-face with the guy, it seemed mean and douchy.

One of the doors was ajar when he returned. Eddie sat on one of several luxuriant couches, his head in his hands. The place smelled faintly of weed, but nothing worse. Steve coughed, cleared his throat: “Got the ice, Mister Munson, Sir.”

“Jesus, none of that shit. It’s Eddie.”

“Wow. My favourite name.”

Eddie snorted. “Horseshit.”

Steve wrapped some ice chips in a napkin, sat down beside Eddie, who downed a glass of clear liquid that Steve suspected was vodka. Then, hesitantly, Eddie stretched out an elegant, long-fingered hand. Steve took it one of his and pressed the ice to Eddie’s swollen knuckles. Eddie appeared reluctant to look him in the eye, which made Steve feel dead awkward too.

He noticed a massive crack in one of the pillars. Had to be recent. Plaster dust sprinkled the otherwise immaculate Persian carpet beneath.

“You wanna talk about it?” he said, returning his attention to Eddie’s hand. “Did you have an argument with your girlf… boyfriend.”

“Ain’t got no one, brother. Went and ordered you, didn’t I?”

Steve felt like he’d been slapped. Yeah, he’d been ordered on room service, like a platter of meat. Okay, he’d kinda chosen this but… Choices, real choices, had been out of his league for what felt like forever.

He gritted his teeth. “You want me to bandage this, or should I just leave?”

That got Eddie looking up sharply. “Leave?”

“You said you were gonna cancel? Not in the groove for booty calls, huh?”

Steve watched Eddie’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. He tugged his hand away from Steve, picked up the glass with tips of those delicious fingers and offered it to Steve. “Changed my mind. Drink?”

“I feel I should pour, right?” said Steve, nerves fizzing.

Eddie was finally looking at him again, eyes narrowed to simmering slits: “If you like.”

...

anyone here for this? <3 likes reblogs and comments much appreciated and will feed the bunnies🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕

Chapter 2 on tumblr

Chapter 2 on AO3

I've added a hashtag #thefreakinthepenthouse for ease of finding the earlier parts. I can also tag if anybody is interested... please let me know.

zero pressure and one-off tag @sidekick-hero who kindly asked about this one in the WIP tag game and just got a surprised blurble as I'd not typed anything up then...

[joeybsversion]

Strangers

Joe Burrow x Reader

You and Joe try to work things out

“Dear Me,” you scribbled into your journal, humming along to the soft music at the coffee shop. “He’s leaving for the NFL, you still have one more year of college. Let him go. He will find bigger and better things than you. Let him find a nice girl he can bring to games. There will be someone he can be happy with. Yes, he’s sweet, and caring, and handsome, but he is also grown up.” You set your pen down, taking a sip of your coffee, hoping it would help the lump in your throat disappear.

The door of the coffee shop quietly swung open. You glanced up, as you always did out of curiosity. You know what they say, curiosity kills the cat. At that exact moment, you were the cat. Joe walked in, with confidence, in a jacket you had gotten him a few months ago. He smiled at strangers around him, and then gave you the same smile. That’s when you realized, you were now a stranger to him.

You quickly flung the front cover of your leather journal shut, stuffed your pen into your purse, and did anything to make yourself look busy. Two hands quickly met the top of the table you were sitting at.

“Hey.” Joe cleared his throat.

“Oh, hey.” You looked down, doing your best to make sure he couldn’t see the tears that had formed in your eyes as you wrote about him just moments earlier.

“Writing?” He asked, pulling out the chair across from you and taking a seat.

“Studying.” You lied.

You sat in silence for what felt like an eternity. Both of you searching for the right words to say. You hadn’t seen Joe in nearly 3 months now. And it had been some of the most emotionally draining 3 months of your life. Neither of you really officially ended things, but you both knew. “Goodbye.” “I love you.” “I’m sorry.” “Good luck.”

“Can we talk?” Joe croaked out.

“I don’t think there’s really much to say.”

“I’m sorry.” He reached over and grabbed your hands. “Please, just give me a minute. I need closure.”

You hated that word. Somewhere in the back of your brain, you hoped he would promise you a future and things would go back to the way they were. But here he was, confirming that things were officially over.

“It’s been 76 days. I’ve spent every single one thinking about you.” He brushed his thumb across the top of your hand as he spoke. “I thought I knew what I wanted. Becoming an NFL quarterback. Being the most popular, most liked person in the room. I thought those things would make me happy. And they did….temporarily. But you,” he paused, clearing his throat, “You’re the only thing that could make me happy forever.”

You choked out a little half laugh, half sob. “Please don’t say stuff like that. We both know it’s not true.” You shook your head.

“Please don’t play the victim and act like I’m the bad guy.” Joe scoffed, the tone in his voice quickly changing. “Don’t forget, you’re the one that said things weren’t going to work.”

“What was I supposed to say when you said you were leaving?” You pulled your hands away from his. “Don’t leave? I love you?” You questioned.

He shrugged and let out a frustrated breath. “I don’t know. Okay? But I thought you’d say something.”

“I’m sorry.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, the anger in his voice was making you nervous.

“Do you want to try again?” He asks barely loud enough for you to hear him.

You can’t answer, your throat is too thick with emotion.

“If you want me to beg, I will. If you want me to jump through flaming hoops, then bring them on. I’ll spend every waking hour I have until I have to report to training camp proving to you how badly I want you.” He looked away, blinking back a few tears.

You felt your own lips start to tremble. His words are painful and beautiful at the same time.

“Every word is the truth. I want you back. I can’t imagine starting this new journey without you.” He said. “I fucked up letting you go. I still love you.”

You swallow a sip of coffee, hoping the caffeine will fill you with the right words to say. “Even though I have another year of College left?”

He smiles. “My rookie year is going to be chaotic, and busy. It’ll be better for both of us if you’re busy too, dontcha think?”

He makes a fair point.

“We can make it work. I know we can. The question is, do you want to try again?” He pauses. “Do you want me?”

You can see the fear that you might reject him in his eyes. His hands are trembling on the table. His breathes are shallow and quick. The one thing he is confident about though, is wanting to make things work with you.

“I want you.”

[mrsstarkey1]

carnival

request: “can i request something super fluffy with rafe?” by @lanadelreyfan16

summary: rafe takes you to the carnival to cheer you up

word count: 1.5k

notes: rafe cameron x reader, rafe lowkey ooc

—

“rafe, where are we going?” you ask for the millionth time, leaning your head back against the headrest dramatically.

“you’ll see,” he says simply, a smile playing on his lips; one that you can’t see because of the piece of fabric covering your eyes.

you let out a long sigh and you hear him chuckle lightly. you let your own lips twitch into a smile at the sound, excitement bubbling in your chest as you wonder where rafe could possibly be taking you.

this past week, you’d been sort of out of it, in a funk. you were exhausted all the time, emotionally and physically drained from school, work, and just life in general. you tried to not let it show, but rafe noticed almost immediately. so lately, he’d been by your side at all times, just making sure that you were okay.

this morning, he’d woken up earlier than normal, awaking you by pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “what’s goin’ on?” you mumbled, forcing your eyes open.

“nothin, baby. i’m just going out for a bit, just wanted to let you know i was leaving. i’ve got a surprise for you later,” he whispered, with a grin you could only vaguely see through your tired eyes.

“mhmm, can’t wait,” you murmured lazily.

rafe smiled, leaning down to press a short kiss to your lips. “i’ll see you soon. i love you.”

about an hour after you’d woken up today, you had been laying in your bed watching tv when rafe facetimed you. you answered immediately, and were met with rafe’s grinning face on the screen. he simply said, “get ready. i’m picking you up in 10,” before hanging up.

then you texted him - omg rafe. what do i wear??

he’d responded with - something comfortable

you’d scoffed at the vague response, but couldn’t fight the excited smile from spreading on your face - the first genuine smile you’d smiled in awhile. you changed quickly into jean shorts and a cropped tank top that you knew rafe just loved. finally dressed in real clothes for the first time this week, you already felt better.

rafe’s truck came to a stop after about 10 minutes. “we’re here,” he breathed out, a nervous undertone in his voice.

“yay,” you say quickly, unbuckling your seatbelt. “can i take the blindfold off?” you plead, turning your body toward him.

“no,” he says simply, and you hear his door open. you sigh, leaning back in the seat. in just a moment, rafe is at your door, opening it quickly and grabbing your arms to guide you out of the car.

your feet hit the ground and you’re immediately confused. it’s not concrete, you can tell. grass, maybe? “rafe, where are we?” you whine out, impatience coming to the surface.

rafe let’s out a hearty laugh that you can feel coming from his chest as you lean into him as you walk. “you’ll see, baby. doesn’t this make it more fun though?” he asks proudly.

“i guess,” you mumble, focusing on your steps so you don’t fall. you’d never been a coordinated person. which is precisely why rafes hands are placed tightly on your shoulders as he guides you to wherever the hell you’re going.

rafe suddenly comes to a stop, and you can hear people talking and laughing a little distantly in front of you. rafes hands move from your shoulders, and you can sense him moving around to face you. “okay, you ready?” he asks knowingly.

you nod quickly, muttering a soft “duh.” rafes hands go to the sides of your blindfold, gently pulling it up and off your head, letting you see his smirking face. your eyes stay on his for a moment, a smile starting on your face. your gaze shifts to behind rafe, landing on a big flashing sign that read, “carnival”

your mouth drops open, and your eyes glance around excitedly at all the carnival rides, food trucks and games. rafe watches you intently, awaiting verbal confirmation that you like the surprise. you meet his eyes after a moment. “i didn’t even know there was a carnival in town,” you said with a smile. “this is so great, rafe,” you added, taking a step forward to wrap your arms around his neck.

rafe let’s a relieved smile take over his expression, and his eyes light up looking down at you. "you really like the surprise?" he asks, proud smile indicating he knows your answer. you simply nod and tilt your head up to bring your lips together for a short kiss. "let's go get a funnel cake," you mutter against his lips.

you drag rafe around the carnival grounds, hand laced with his as you walk around enthusiastically like a child in a candy store. "look, rafe! that game has those big teddy bears as prizes," you say giddily, pointing at the one of the game booths.

rafe smiles at your pure excitement over a giant teddy bear, "let's go play," he says, leading you this time. rafe greets the man running the game, handing him some tickets that he’d purchased earlier in exchange for some metal darts. “you wanna try?” rafe asks you, holding out a handful of darts to you.

you nod, taking a few from him. you play for a bit, but you can���t seem to make more than 2 in a row to get the big prize.

“god damnit,” you groan in frustration as the dart you threw misses the balloon and falls to the ground. “I can’t get it,” you sigh dramatically, looking at rafe with a dramatic frown.

rafe returns your expression, “let me try it, baby,” he says, pressing a short kiss to your temple.

you hand him a dart, and watch lovingly as he focuses on pulling his arm back just right. when he releases the dart, your eyes linger on him as his features tense, waiting to see if he hit the balloon. your gaze is only pulled from him when you hear the deafening pop.

rafes eyes widen, and he lets a smile develop on his features, turning his head to direct it toward you.

“we have a winner!!” the man in the booth announces enthusiastically, ringing a bell in his hand.

“no way! you did it,” you say with a giddy smile, quickly wrapping your arms around him for a tight hug.

he chuckles into your shoulder, “well don’t sound so surprised.”

rafe reaches his hand that is not wrapped around your back out to grab the teddy bear, but you beat him too it. you pull it close to your chest, an ear to ear smile on your face - one that rafe could look at for hours.

“thank you,” you say with a giggle, pulling rafe back in for an embrace. his arms tighten around you, uncontrollable smile plastered on his face.

“can we go on the ferris wheel now?” you crane your neck up to ask him, pleading smile on your face, (though you don’t really need to do more than say the word for him to do anything for you.)

rafe smiles down at you, “course we can. don’t know if they’ll let you bring that on there, though,” he jokes, gesturing to the stuffed animal in your arms.

“i’m not gonna take no for an answer,” you say with a smile, clutching the bear in your arms as you begin to walk toward the ferris wheel.

after waiting in an annoyingly long line, you, rafe, and your teddy bear all get into one of the ferris wheel capsules.

you lean into his chest as the ferris wheel starts to move, letting out a breath as you take in the view. you can’t help but notice that off feeling you’d been feeling for the past week, that weight on your chest, that exhaustion, was all gone.

“thank you, rafe,” you say, just as you hit the top of the ferris wheel.

rafe shifts toward you, “for what? the bear?” he asks with a grin.

you smile, glancing down at the stuffed animal. “no. well, yes, that too. but i mean thank you for bringing me here, and for being here for me this past week,” you say softly, turning to face him. “i know i haven’t been the most pleasant to be around,” you add with a small laugh.

rafe grins, shaking his head a little. “i always enjoy being around you, y/n. i just hated seeing you not feel like yourself. i’m glad this helped though, you seem happier,” he says, wrapping his arm around your shoulder tightly.

you nod and smile, “i feel a million times better. all because of you, baby,” you say, leaning in closer to him to press your lips to his. you feel rafe smile into the kiss, and his hand move to the back of your head to pull you closer.

you pull apart only to take a breath, resting your forehead against his. “i really like that bear too,” you whisper, “i think he might take your side of the bed.”

rafe raises his eyebrow, “i’m gonna have to throw him off of this ferris wheel.”

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[kindasleepywriter]

Bird of Prey - Chapter two: We meet again.

Bird of Prey masterlist. Azriel x Reader.

Chapter summary: You try to talk yourself out of a sticky situation, but Azriel isn't inclined to let you go.

(alternate title: A game of "Who can get on the other's nerves the most?" at the worst moment possible.)

Rating: Mature - Minors DNI

Warnings: Story-typical violence, a bit of misogyny.

Word count: 3.3k.

Previous chapter | Next chapter

“How about you tell me yours?”

A long list of expletives ran through your mind. You could count on one hand, or maybe two, the number of people that you couldn’t kill, though you thought that wouldn’t kill might be more fitting. It didn’t matter who you could wipe the floor with if you didn’t know when to pick your battles. And of course, the one who currently had you at his mercy was one of those select few.

Shadows swam slowly around you, rippling like waves on a forest lake. You hardly had the time to blink after you heard the voice ring out from behind you before they breezed around both of your wrists, gentle and soft. You didn’t doubt they would turn on you the second you tried to make a move. More slid around your throat. He had you in his grips, and you were powerless against it. Damn that Illyrian and his powers.

“Cat got your tongue”, he asked, his voice still too close for comfort, “or did your parents not teach you manners?”

The target beneath your hands who’d kept quiet until now started resisting your hold and pleading to Azriel, clearly seeing him as a possible savior. You let out a sigh and closed your eyes as you tightened your hold on him, struggling to keep your usual detached facade. Panicking would do you no good now and you could only hope you’d be able to talk your way out of this mess.

“I didn’t feel the need to answer your question.”, you said, “I have no intention of dying today, Shadowsinger.”

“Ah, so she does speak. Quite confident too, for a girl who’s currently under the control of someone quite more powerful than her.”

Your eyes opened while you scowled, glad that he couldn’t see your face. An egotistic andcondescending man, it would seem. You’d met too many of those. The logger still trashed underneath you, and you struggled to keep him still while maintaining the dagger leveled to at least try to show the wise-guy behind you that you wouldn’t slice this guy’s throat, not yet.

“Were you going somewhere with this or were you planning to let me put this guy out of his misery? You may enjoy this pointless banter but I’m getting tired of holding him down.”, you gritted out. The logger started babbling with a renewed fervor, having had little luck yet in trying to get the Shadowsinger’s attention.

“Let the poor man go, and we can speak in a more civilized manner.”, Azriel said, his voice sounding minimally further than before.

You couldn’t exactly pity the logger but you still reluctantly removed your hand holding the man’s legs, and slowly moved your blade away from his throat. The man scrambled away on shaky legs, apparently deciding against witnessing how this situation would end. He glanced at the Shadowsinger, eyes alternating between the two of you for just a second, face red and sweaty, before turning towards the trees and taking off.

Still sitting with your legs underneath you with your arms stretched out across the forest floor as if in reverence, you made to sheath your dagger and stand up. Before you could move an inch, you felt the smooth darkness surrounding your wrists and throat become colder and tighter, just barely constricting your movements and airway. A warning.

“Drop the blade.”, he snapped, sounding much further away than he had been moments earlier.

You did as he said, throwing it in front of you a few paces and rolling your eyes. He would be naïve to think it the only blade you carried and, while you might not appreciate the man, you did know enough about him that you were sure that was not the case. A show of good faith or an attempt to get you to underestimate him, you didn’t know.

The instant you felt the shadows loosen around your limbs and throat, you leaped forward into a tight roll, landing on your feet and spinning towards the Illyrian. You looked him up and down, your mind immediately shifting to evaluating him for strengths and weaknesses to exploit. He was in typical Illyrian leathers that highlighted his build and protected the weakest spots of his body, but your eyes caught on the seven syphons that covered him. Had there been one, you wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but seven? Either his powers were stronger than you thought, or he really wanted to show off. Large membranous wings – easy target, but a predictable one. Very tall– Slower movement, but a longer reach. Shadows surrounding him – the biggest problem. They cloaked him, making it hard to keep a solid view of him. From further away the shadows didn’t have the calm they had had when they’d kept you from moving. They spun around him and spread restlessly across the forest floor, snaking up trees and reaching in all directions. You observed them for a few beats – there were a lot of them.

You knew that in this environment, with a large fighting space, you were at a disadvantage. You glanced at the trees behind him. If you could lure him in a restricted space….

“Don’t even think about it.”, he said, raising a single brow and waving towards the woods, seeming almost… amused?

Condescending.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”, you replied.

“Let’s just cut to the chase then, if you’re going to play dumb.”, he said, “What are you doing attacking a resident of the Night court? Clearly, you don’t understand the gravity of outsiders committing crimes here, nor what we do to people like you.”

You glared at him.

“I’ve been clear about my intention to kill the guy since we were in the Winter court. He’s the one who decided to make it a political problem, how about you give your speech to him instead?”

“Technicalities won’t save your ass. Be straight with me. Who are you? We don’t often see your lot outside the dawn court.”

Your lips quirked up at the corners. He didn’t remember you. You couldn’t blame him, it was a different time, and you had changed so much since you’d seen him. Still, for a spymaster, he sure seemed to have a spotty memory and you couldn’t help mocking him a little.

“Don’t you remember me, Azriel? You sure seemed to know a lot when we last met. How was it that you described me, exactly, I cannot remember.”

His eyes narrowed, but he stayed silent.

“Ah yes, how could I forget. ‘Naïve, pitiful girl, blind to the most basic of manipulations’. I don’t see what else you’d want to know, given your grand knowledge of my person.”

He tilted his head to the side slightly, his mouth twisting into a smirk. You saw the recognition flash in his eyes, so he did remember you.

“Oh, I see.”, he mocked, clearly finding this situation quite funny. “The plaything of whichever of Beron’s son you had supposedly fallen for. Which one was it already? Or was it all of them?”

“Slutshaming an innocent little girl? Really, Spymaster, what a low standard for humor. Perhaps you’d get along with that band of brothers better than you think, you seem to share some views.”

That seemed to break his cold facade for a split second, his brows furrowing.

“That’s not what I-”

You cut him off. “We’ve long since established you’re a dick, how about we just jump to the chase so I can get you out of my breathing space.”

You saw his figurative cold walls go up again. At least, he was able to get down to business.

“Either you tell me about you and what you’re doing here, or you come with me for an interrogation.”, he snapped, “Trust me when I say that you would prefer the former.”

An interrogation. A not-so-subtle way of telling you that if you didn’t cooperate, you would find yourself in a cell suffering whichever method he preferred to extract information from criminals. And, if you believed the rumors about his ‘methods’, you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of it. A shiver ran down your spine. You wouldn’t let yourself be imprisoned again. Ever. Perhaps somewhat playing along with his little game would prevent any further risk of that happening. It wouldn’t keep you from showing your disgust of him, however.

“What do you want to know, you overgrown bat? My star sign? My favorite tea? We could be here a while. You’ll have to be more precise.”, you quipped.

He rolled his eyes. “Why were you after that man? What importance does he hold to you? A lover’s quarrel, perhaps?”

“Would you believe me if I told you I had no idea?”

“No.”

“Well, it’s still mostly true.”, you shrugged.

“What reason would you ever have to kill him then? Maybe you’re just a spoiled and cold-hearted bitch who throws a tantrum when she doesn’t get what or who she wants. I wonder what he could do for you to react so badly though.”, he said, “Or perhaps you’re just jealous of what others have. What poor lady just had her husband run half of Prythian to escape your wrath?”

The word ‘condescending’ really should be printed on his forehead. He clearly didn’t feel any shame about it.

“All I know is that the man was too stupid to know when to keep his mouth shut. Certain Lords don’t seem to appreciate it when their “personal affairs” are used as fresh gossip. Now that I think about it, don’t they hold the right to deal with their prisoners as they fit? A lord would be allowed to sentence such a criminal, I have no doubt…”

“Ah, a hitman. Explains a lot. And it just so happens that the man was working as a spy in one of our camps, right? Not only that, but a spy that happened to have just recently learned some… let’s say, dangerous information?”

Well, shit. That part you hadn’t known. You’d learned long ago not to investigate your targets’ lives too much; it humanized them. Hesitating in a fight was a deadly mistake in this line of work. You only asked the basics – some proof they at least somewhat deserved their death, what their fighting abilities were like, their location, and if they had any relevant backup. You’d only been partly honest about the reason behind the hit though. The spy seemed to have indeed leaked some irrelevant information about a Lord, but it was the latter’s Lady that had been in contact with you. The Lord himself had already gotten the man flogged for his lack of discretion, rendering the logger’s wings useless for a time, but his wife, still rightfully grieving her wings, wanted to make sure he’d never touch an Illyrian woman ever again, and had decided to take action.

The ladyhad just recently gotten her cycle, had been forced into a wedding against her will, and had her wings butchered.

You shuddered. Another woman’s liberty fallen victim to the self-centered men of Night. Given the practice of clipping was very much still alive, even 20 years after Amarantha’s fall, there wasn’t even a slim chance of the spymaster thinking that was enough of a reason. This particular spy had been the one to do the irreversible damage, and if his superior had allowed it… well, he probably would say she deserved to lose her wings.

“Total coincidence.”, you said, “Never heard about him in my life. The job description was only to do it quickly and cleanly. Well, relatively quickly.”.

He quirked an eyebrow again as if in judgment. He was really getting on your last nerve. The longer you stayed in his presence, the more uncomfortable you became. You were doing your best not to tell any outright lies, but his line of questioning pushed you to the limits of what you could say without incriminating yourself.

“Right.”, he said, “Very convenient.”

“If you’re not going to believe me anyways, why did you even ask?”

He inclined his head. “Touché.”

His shadows retreated from the trees and regrouped around him, agitated as they circled him. They messily swarmed through the icy grass, but the few that reached for you as Azriel slowly stepped closer became noticeably calmer. You saw the Shadowsinger give a glance to said shadows before turning his eyes back to you. They were probably readying for action, you thought. He stared at you in silence. You stood your ground, not giving him an inch. In fact, his attempt to intimidate you just gave you more motivation to annoy him. You didn’t know what it was about this man, but the idea of getting under his skin sounded even better than getting out of there. Wow, you thought, you really were losing your mind from loneliness if this was the most fun that you’d had in weeks.

“I wonder what kind of information he held for you to be so bothered by the idea of his death.”, you said, “I wonder, was it that you simply didn’t want your spy to die…. or did you instead seek the information for yourself? Surely, he should’ve brought the information to you first, instead of running off to the Winter court with his family.”

His eyes narrowed.

“I don’t think you understand that I am the one who will be interrogating you.”

You scoffed. “I’ll that that as a yes. A complete shame that you won’t get his information, after all. Truly would’ve been a waste of time for me had I not completed the contract.”

Silence. His shadows ran wild, some of them darting out into the trees again. It didn’t really matter how many he sent; they’d all find the same thing. An unmoving, purple-faced logger, splayed out on snowy forest floor, blood oozing out of his eyes and nose.

The shadows came back just a moment later, and Azriel’s eyes went dark as he stepped even closer to you, clearly pissed off. A few of his dark companions that had reached for you earlier were now fully on you, reaching up over your feet and up to your knees. They held perfectly still. You had felt their power earlier, you had no doubt they would keep you from leaving, but for now they simply hovered around your bottom half. It contrasted to the ones that remained around the Shadowsinger, the agile little things still whipping up a storm on his shoulders.

“Poison. You smart little thing. Truly would be a ‘complete shame’ if the same were to happen to you.”, he said, mocking your earlier words and motioning to his left hand… that held your poisoned dagger. You swore silently. He must’ve reached for it when you rolled away from him.

“You didn’t truly think the only weapon I had on me would be a couple little daggers, did you?”, you taunted, keeping yourself from showing how anxious you really were, instead forcing a little smirk. “Underestimating your opponent is quite the mistake, Spymaster.”

His hand’s hold on the handle of your blade was so tight that you could hear the carved wood start to crack. You gestured to it as he had moments earlier:

“Wouldn’t want to repeat that lapse in judgment by losing another information source, right?”

“Truly would be shame’, he said, his tone heavy with sarcasm. You laughed a little internally. You’d hit him right where you thought it would hurt most: his ego.

“There’s no way I won’t bring you in now, you do realize? Should’ve kept your mouth shut if you wanted to negotiate, smart-ass.”

Ah. Your mouth fell back into a neutral line. That was why you normally kept conversations to a minimum; you tended to talk yourself into a hole when you didn’t.

“How about this.”, he said, “While I could bring you in kicking and screaming, I feel rather generous today.” You almost scoffed out loud. Generous? What a joke.  “I assume you’ve heard about the very handy powers of my High Lord and High Lady,” he continued, “How about you talk to them instead. Surely, if you’ve been honest with me, you wouldn’t have a problem letting them confirm it.”

Daemati. The idea of letting some cold power-hungry High Lord into the sanctuary of your mind made you nauseous. You had pretty solid mental shields, but Rhysand wasn’t just some regular fae. Between that and the dungeons though… You were inclined towards a bit of a mental wrestle. You weren’t foolish enough to think you could fight your way out of this place, Azriel’s numerous siphons mocking you from where they clung to his leathers, and you also weren’t particularly in the mood for familiarizing yourself with whatever torture tools the man enjoyed.

You did see one way out: the High Lady. Maybe people had fallen for the clear lie that was Rhysand’s supposed change of personality, but you hadn’t. Still, you trusted her character just the slightest bit more. You’d been in spring for a while during Amarantha’s reign and while you hadn’t seen the act yourself, you’d heard the story of a cauldron-made fae giving water wraiths expensive jewelry for their tithe, asking nothing in return. The news had traveled faster than fire in a draught-stricken field and your sources had been secure enough that you believed it. If she was able to empathize with those greedy fishy beings, maybe she’d also take pity on the fae you worked for… If she wasn’t completely under the High Lord’s control, at least. Who knows what even goes on in that palace of theirs.

“Have her come then.”, you let out at last, “Let’s get it over with.”

He studied you, the slightest bit of surprise on his face, his eyes glinting when you asked only for the Lady.

“And have them come in the middle of the the court's forests just to accommodate your fragile disposition?”, he said, “I think not. You’re coming with me to Velaris.”

Velaris. The City of starlight. The treasure of the Night court, only revealed a few years earlier after the end of the absolute terror the entirety of Prythian lived under for 50 years. The city you absolutely hated to your core.

“Not a chance, you big, plucked chicken”, you said, “Putting myself in the innermost part of your best protected city, completely at your court’s mercy? Not over my dead body.”

He sighed as he ran a hand over his face, visibly frustrated about how this encounter was going. Entirely his fault, you thought. You could have been out of his hair a long time ago if he hadn’t meddled with someone else’s business. He clearly didn’t know you at all if he thought you were so naïve as to believe that your safety would be left intact in Velaris. However, it was clear that you needed to see the High Lady if you wanted to eventually leave this court with your life and all your limbs.

You considered your options, but you didn’t see a way to secure your safety in Velaris, if you agreed to go. They could just throw you in a cell the second you get there and leave you there to rot, but that’s precisely what they’d do if you didn’t go willingly. Your mind turned in circles. You almost relented, seeing as you had no other choice, when an idea struck you. It wasn’t a goodidea, you could even say it was a horrible one, but if it worked, it would be an amazing way of finally facing the assholes who made this court hell on earth and sticking it to them. Fuck it, you thought. You’d made risky moves before, although this one might just turn out to be your worst yet... or your best.

The corner of your lips just barely quirked up.

“Let’s make a bargain, Shadowsinger.”

Tell me what you think, i always appreciate constructive criticism or your opinions!

We finally get to see the idiots interact for the first time, and ooh boy are their tongues as sharp as their blades! A lot of misunderstandings between Reader and Azriel, that's for sure.

Banner created by the amazing @saradika!

Taglist: @sapphenaa

[poisonedfate]

hi <3 for that ask game, merthur #16? if you need details then i request fluffy merthur having breakfast in bed but i'll leave it up to you!!

send me prompts

16 - "You're getting crumbs all over my bed":

As soon as Merlin, along with the breakfast tray he was carrying, were what he deemed "close enough" to Arthur, he plopped down on the bed, legs dangling over the edge of it, the rest of him pressed comfortably in the messed up sheets. One more barely-there effort was made to push said breakfast towards Arthur before he let out a sigh that had been building up in his chest, allowing the softness of the bed to draw him in. 

"Good morning to you, too," Arthur muttered - if an eye roll were to be a tone in which one spoke, this would probably be it. Merlin just groaned in response. Arthur no longer questioned his antics, and Merlin had it in good confidence that Arthur quite liked having him in his bed. The other even let him have a few minutes of (almost) complete silence before speaking. 

"Why are you so tired today then?" the prince asked between bites, offering Merlin his usual cue for his complaints of the day - or rather, the day before. 

Today, however, Merlin didn't have any good reasons to give, so, instead, he decided to do the second-best thing.

"Well, because you treat me like an animal."

"I do not-," Arthur immediately countered, only to be interrupted by Merlin peaking up at him with one eye, beaming. 

The prince's unimpressed look was the last thing he saw before shutting his eyes again, though Arthur's expression had quickly changed to an amused one by the time Merlin was forced to look up again, a grape bouncing off his forehead. He feigned offence, as he propped himself up on one arm, but Arthur simply raised his eyebrows slightly and nodded his head as if to say 'this is what you get'. Merlin felt around the bed, looking for the poor abandoned grape - thankfully, it had rolled closer to him, tucked in between the bed and his side. Without taking his eyes off Arthur, he threw the grape in his own mouth, chewing on it more aggressively than any normal person would, making Arthur chuckle. 

He grabbed a handful of the grapes that were still left on the tray, before lying back down, smiling to himself. 

"Hey!"

"Sharing is caring."

"This isn't sharing, it's stealing."

"Stealing is......feeling," Merlin quickly retorted before adding, "and stop talking with your mouth so full."

He could hear Arthur shift for a moment, already knowing what was about to come.

"Don't tell me what to do," the prince answered, more muffled than before, mouth as full as he could get it. Merlin only groaned again.

"You're getting crumbs all over my bed."

"Your bed?" Arthur exclaimed, still half-muffled. Merlin stared at the ceiling, eyebrows slightly furrowed, wondering why that was the thing he had decided to say in the first place. 

"Well, I make it and keep it clean, I put you in it and take you out of it. You merely use it. I think by all accounts it's more mine than it is yours," he finally answered after a few moments. 

Arthur was silent then - as if he was actually considering what Merlin had said.

"Does that mean I'm yours too? You dress me and feed me and so on, I merely use this body-," Merlin interrupted him with a glare, though it didn't wipe off the stupid smile that had appeared on Arthur's face.

"I think I'm going to be sick," 

"Hey! It would be a privilege-"

"A privilege? You are a pain in my backside," Arthur faked offence at that just as Merlin had done earlier. 

"How dare you?" the prince leaned closer, positioning himself so that his face was now almost directly above Merlin's own. 

"What are you going to do? Throw more fruit at me?" he asked, tapping the grape he was holding between his fingers against Arthur's mouth before putting it between his own lips. A redness crept into Arthur's cheeks and Merlin couldn't help himself, as he put his weight on one of his arms again, getting even closer to the other.

"No? Didn't think so. Now why don't you get out of my bed and start your day, sire," he smiled, placing a quick kiss near - but not on - Arthur's mouth. 

"You," he paused, kissing Merlin on the lips this time, "can't tell me what to do."

"Ah, see, apparently, you're all mine so I think I can," Merlin smiled, leaping out of bed and out of Arthur's reach. 

[love-and-war-on-cybertron]

Anonymous asked: That last request you answered about the tfp bots (more specifically ratchet) and who reader finds most attractive was sooooo cute But since the requester tossed in Bulkheads name, now I GOTTA know his reaction if reader said his name (and by gotta I mean only if you feel like it or course)

(I accidentally deleted this ask I'm so sorry Anon!) I'm still a bit unfamiliar with his character so it's short, but I hope I did okay. He seems like a real sweetheart from what I have seen of him.

You had been half listening, looking over a book, heard some voice ask about favorites and you say it.

"Bulkhead."

You didn't realize what a big deal this would be till you heard Wheeljack.

"You hear that? Human's got a soft-spark for you Bulkhead."

Glancing up, you see the wrecker ribbing his teammate. Bulkhead is clearly trying to push him away, sputtering over his words. The kids were talking amongst themselves, they seemed to think he was a good choice. Ratchet butted in, telling them off for thinking about such things.

You just sat on the couch, red faced, griping your book tight. You weren't lying or anything. Bulkhead was... well he was great. If any of these towering Robots deserved to be called a gentle giant, it was him. And you knew there was more to him that heavyweight and a history of black ops. He had the type of kindness you only get from seeing awful things.

You don't say anything further, and let the kids go on with their game. Once it seems to be forgotten and they head out, you take a moment and go to the edge of the platform. Bulkhead perks up a bit.

"About earlier-"

He deflates. You can see it, "Look, you don't have to apologize for lying. I'm flattered, but I know how Miko is with her games-"

"I wasn't lying Bulkhead." you cut in, leaning on the railing and rocking on your heels, "If I was asked again, the answer would be the same."

He's speechless for a moment. Even when he tries to talk, it's just pieces of things he's not sure how to say outloud.

"What he means-" Wheeljack puts an arm around him, "Is thank you, and he has a softspark you too."

"Wheeljack!"

"See you two later!" The Wrecker chuckles as he walks over to ratchet. You chuckle as well, looking away with a smile.

[pitchsidestories]

New Romantics (2) II Grace Clinton x Bronze!Reader

part 1 I masterlist I word count: 2485

summary: England looses at home and you feel like it's your fault, but your girlfriend Grace Clinton and your older sister Lucy Bronze are there for you. Despite that you've a decision to make which could change your life.

a/n: Hi, quite a few of you wanted to see a part 2 of this, we hope you enjoy it just as much as part 1. Plus, the oneshot was written before the announcement of Lucy Bronze leaving the club. 💔

The last bit of energy left your body once the game ended. You had been on a high with the English national team so this result was more than just disappointing. You felt deflated. Angry and sad and everything in between.

It was an important game that you just lost against France. It was in front of a home crowd and in front of your whole family. You wanted to disappear, not talk to anyone for some time.

Grace approached you when you were still standing on the pitch, scenes from the play replaying in front of your inner eye again and again. You losing the ball in a dangerous situation right in front the penalty area. Why did you not pass faster? Why did you not play a long ball out?

“Y/n? Your family is over there, let’s say hi to them…“ Graces voice was soft next to your ear.

She pointed to the stands but you refused to look. Tears welled up in your eyes at the mention of your family.

“I can’t. I disappointed them, Grace…“, you sniffed.

Grace gently took your hand into hers, rubbing circle with her thumb: “You didn’t. They’re your family, they’ll want to see you.“

You pulled back from her: “But I don’t want to see anyone right now.“

“Y/n.“, she said but you were already headed towards the changing rooms so you missed your Lucy approaching Grace with a frown.

“Where’s my sister, Grace? Our nephew and niece wanted to say hi to her.“

“She went to the changing rooms already.“, the young midfielder replied truthfully, but slightly hurt.

Without missing a beat, Lucy walked determinedly towards the players tunnel.

“Y/n!“ You winced as she called your name and slammed open the door.

You knew what would follow. And you really did not need a lecture right now.

“What?! Leave me alone, Lucia!“, you yelled at her, standing up from the wooden bench that you had been sitting on.

“No!“

You glared at each other for a moment until you finally gave in first. You sighed and whispered: “I can’t go back out there…“

“Our family is waiting. Mum and Dad want to see you.“

“They want to see me? After this game? The second goal for France was so my fault…“ Scepticism outweighed the disbelief in your voice.

Lucy rolled her eyes: “Can you calm down? This is not your first football game. Mistakes happen, there are ten of us on the field who are supposed to help you in these situations.“

“No but… It was in front of our family. And what if Sarina doesn’t call me up anymore after his?“, you asked. Your thoughts were running wild with your greatest fears.

“That’s just football, y/n.”, your older sister shrugged. In a more uplifting tone, she continued:” And Sarina was talking to mum earlier about how happy she was with your debut.”

“She did? Really?”, you looked up at her surprised.

“Of course she did. You played great except for that one second.”, Lucy answered, there was a softness to her voice now which wasn’t here before. The older defender knew what she was talking about, her career had a lot of highs and a few lows too and mistakes were made along the way. They were a part of the beautiful game.

“A second which mattered.”, you whispered heartbroken.

“This is like arguing with a wall.”, Lucy rolled her eyes.

Your brother entered the changing room, glancing at her amused:” Weird, she reminds me of your younger self.”

“I wasn’t like this at all!”, the Barcelona player protested.

“Yes, you were and are bad at loosing games.”, he reminded her.

“Lies.”, she spat out.

“You know it’s true.”, Jorge argued. The older sister wouldn’t agree to it, but her silence was enough for him. Lucy and you were in some ways more similar than you would admit. Sometimes it scared her how much you reminded her of her younger self she thought she let behind. The defender saw your insecurities, and ambition and saw her young adult reflected in your behaviour.

Right behind Jorge were your nephew and niece.

The little girl came to you, her face beaming:” Look auntie Grace gave me this.”

“What’s that?”, you asked her irritated.

“It’s for you. Gracie said to give it to you.”, she declared.

“Thanks. That’s sweet of her.”, you sighed.

“And she’s waiting.”, your niece stated seriously.

When she and her brother were born you were relieved because it meant you weren’t the youngest in the family anymore. But you also felt a responsibility, to be more grown up, be a good example for them.

“Uhm little one? Are you very sad that we lost?”, you questioned her cautiously.

“No, next game you’ll win.”, the little girl shook her head fiercely. There was a certainty in her voice which warmed your heart.

“The next game is against them again.”, you remembered.

“Then you can try again.”, she grinned at you.

“Hi, you two.”, Grace stopped in front of you nervously.

“Grace, hi.”, you greeted her.

“Can I give you a hug now or is it too early for that?”, your girlfriend wanted to know.

“No, I’m ready for a hug.”, you told her. A relieved smile was on her lips while she bent down to kiss you, before wrapping her strong warms around you.

“Thank you, Grace.”, you muttered gratefully, as you inhaled her familiar scent of warmth and home.

“You’re welcome.”, she replied.

“I think I needed that.”, you acknowledged.

Your girlfriend studied your face with worry: “You can always come to me, not only for hugs you know? I hate when you’re too hard on yourself.“

“I know. But it just feels like shit when you’re partly responsible when your team loses… during your debut too.“ You tried to avoid her gaze by looking down at your shoes.

“You already played once for England so it’s not really your debut, love…“

You sighed, obviously she was right. “You know what I mean. Playing from the start… at home.“

Grace nodded slowly: “Sorry, of course.“

“But everyone’s been nothing but nice to me and it feels all wrong!“, you complained. You blinked back a few tears.

Lucy appeared on your side again with a deadpan expression: “No, that’s just how a team sticks together.“

You slowly started to get frustrated with your sister. It seemed like she refused to understand your point of view.

“I just feel like I don’t deserve it, you know?“

“Oh I know.“, she replied and you paused for a second, surprised.

“Luce…“

She rolled her eyes once again: “Also Jorge had to remind me.“

“I’ll let you two talk alone, in peace.“, Grace said quietly, almost ducking out of the conversation.

Gratefully, you squeezed her hand: “Thank you, Grace.“ Turning back to Lucy, you continued: “He had to remind you of…?“

“That I was just like you when I was younger. I still hate losing obviously but I don’t dwell on my mistakes that long anymore.“, Lucy revealed reluctantly.

You considered your sister for a moment: “How did you do it?“

“Losing and losing and losing again.“

“What? Really?“, you asked.

Lucy nodded solemnly: “Yes, one day you’ll get it.“

With a small smile you noted: “Also Graces hugs are helping.“

“Of course they are.“ Another eye roll, a defense mechanism as you knew.

You grinned: “Hey, do I have to remind you of Ona comforting you after the lost World Cup Final?“

“Shut up.“

“Never.“

Lucy grimaced, sticking out her tongue: “Be nice or I’ll make you rewatch your failure again!“

“Nooo.“, you drawled with a laugh.

Bickering with your sister always made you feel better.

“Don’t fight. I already missed her smile.“ Grace had reappeared with a kiss on your cheek.

Lucy shrugged: “That’s how you show love in the Tough-Bronze household, Grace!“

“That doesn’t sound very pleasant.“, Grace wrinkled her nose.

You took you girlfriends hand in yours: “Let’s leave, Grace.“

“Okay.“, she complied happily.

“Fine, but say hi to our parents!“, your sister called after you.

“I’ll!“

“Good girl!“

“Hi, everyone.”, you waved at your mum and dad, unsure what else to do.

“Hello y/n. We’re so proud of you.”, your mum hugged you, and pressed a kiss to your heated cheek.

“Thanks, mum.”, you answered quietly.

“The next time you’ll win against the French, I can feel it in my bones.”, your dad winked at you, he hoped this would make you smile, because he hated to see his children especially his youngest sad.

“Your granddaughter thinks so too.”, you responded with a small smile.

“And she must know it, trust me.”, your brother hummed.

“We’ll see next week.”, you said earnestly.

The next day you felt nervous. Sarina Wiegman has asked to have a conversation with and even though you remembered Lucys words from yesterday where she said that the England Coach was full of praise about you in front of your mum, there was a little voice inside your head telling you it must be bad news from her.

“Ah, thanks for coming y/n, sit down.”, Sarina looked up delighted, nodding into the empty chair opposite from where she was sitting.

Like you expected the Dutch woman came straight to the point, leaving all the nice English necessities at the door:” When you were involved in the own goal, you were not mentally in the game, right? You seemed distracted for a second.”

“Yes, I promise this won’t happen again. To be honest I was thinking about an offer I got.”, you promptly confessed. There was no use in being dishonest in front of Sarina who with her glasses seem to look straight into your heart.

“I see.. if you want to talk about it.”, she offered kindly.

“Sorry, I haven’t told anyone yet, first I thought it was a joke.”, you continued, feeling the weight of your shoulders getting a little less now that you were speaking the truth.

“I think you haven’t seen how much you’ve improved over the past few months. I’m sure whatever offer it’s, it wasn’t a joke.”, she remarked thoughtfully.

“It’s Barcelona.”, you retorted hastily.

“This is a big step.”, the Blonde observed.

“It’s but I’m not sure if I’m ready for that yet.”, you admitted truthfully.

“I trust that you’ll figure out what’s best for you, you’re still young.”, the Dutch reminded you warmly.

“But my family, friends and girlfriend are in England.”, you listed your personal reasons for a stay in London.

“Maybe you should talk to them about it. You need to get this out of your head.”, Sarina suggested.

“I’ll start with Grace and then Lucy.”, you decided.

You wanted to talk to your girlfriend about it as soon as possible, so when you both were getting ready to got bed, you chose to open up.

“Gracie?“

“Yes?“, she replied, slipping into her PJs.

“Can we talk? You might want to sit down for it…“ You grimaced, this sounded unnecessary dramatic.

Grace paused for a moment, taken aback but she quickly caught herself.

“Oh, sure. What is it?“ She sat down cross-legged on the mattress.

You could not look at her. “Barcelona offered me a contract.“

“Oh, wow. That’s amazing for you, babe.“, you heard your girlfriend say happily.

You looked up at her in confusion. Did she not hear you? Or did she not understand what that meant?

“Yes, but… you wouldn’t mind?“

Your girlfriend watched you with soft eyes: “We’re both football players, I know what it means to be able to play for Barcelona. If you want to go, I’ll support you. We can make it work.“

It was hard to find words for what you were feeling after hearing these words from her.

You swallowed around the lump in your throat: “You’re the best, Grace.“

“Don’t even worry about it.“, she smiled.

“I love you.“

“I love you too.“

After your surprisingly successful talk with Grace, you decided to keep the conversation more casual with your sister.

You were on your way to the stadium for the second match against France when you dropped into the seat next to Lucy: “Luce?“

She gave you an annoyed look, she was currently in a video call with her girlfriend.

“Since when are you sitting next to me? Scared of the game?“, she teased.

“Not about the game, it’s about an offer I got…“

Your sister perked up, ignoring Ona on the screen. You knew she was silent to eavesdrop on the conversation.

“An offer, huh?“

“Yes, Grace said she would support me going there.“, you smiled innocently.

Lucy frowned: “Where is it?“

“Barcelona…“

“What?! Of course you’re taking that offer!“, she commanded, her voice a bit too loud.

You grimaced uncomfortably: “What if I’m not good enough, Lucy?“

She shook her head with reassuring calmness: “They wouldn’t want you if you weren’t.“

“True… so you wouldn’t mind me joining your team?“

A smirk appeared on your sisters face: “I would force you to if I could.“

“Alright but I might have move in with Ona and you for a couple of days until I have an apartment.“, you smiled at her.

“Don’t worry, we’ll survive.“, she shrugged.

Ona called from Lucys phone screen: “My favourite Bronzey will move to Barca?! I’m so excited!“

“Me too, Oni.“, you grinned back at her while Lucy angled her phone towards you.

“Excuse me?!“, Lucy asked her girlfriend in mock offense.

“Can’t wait to see you again and meet the team soon… but we got a game to win now.“, you told Ona.

Lucy took the phone back and with an apologetic shrug said into the camera: “You heard her.“

“I did. Waiting patiently for your return, amor.“, Ona waved her goodbye through the phone.

You wrinkled your nose, looking at your sister: “Disgusting.“

Lucy just elbowed you in the side for your comment and told Ona: “I’ll be back before you know it. With or without my sister.“

She warningly raised an eyebrow, making sure you understood her threat but instead you just burst out in giggles.

The relief you felt after your talks lasted throughout the game. This topic stopped weighing your game down, your were back to your usual self and profited from a change of tactics.

It was a much better game that you won 2:1.

You jumped into Grace arms once the game was over. “We won, Grace!“

“You had an amazing game!“, your girlfriend cheered, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You basically vibrated with excitement. Wrapping your arms around her neck, you kissed her on the lips in front of the whole stadium.

Lucy stood to the side, watching this display with her arms crossed in front of her chest. She smirked at her coach who stood right beside her: “Young love, eh?“

“She’s not staying, right?“, Sarina asked.

“No but their love can handle this.“

Your feedback is always appreciated. <3

[monstrouslydelicious]

another part of At Least Out Loud

Chilchuck lay on his bedroll with his arms behind his head and his eyes closed, as if he was actually capable of falling asleep right now. But the truth was, sleep was about as far from him as they were from the entrance to the dungeon. He looked over at Marcille and Falin curled together and briefly smiled. It's good to have Falin back. I've never seen Marcille so happy. Or Laios. Then he glanced at the light still spilling through the open door and the smile fell from his face. He thought about it for a moment, before sighing and slipping from his bed to quietly pad out of the room, waving off Senshi’s questioning look when the dwarf looked up from where he was taking stock of their inventory next to his own bedroll.

Laios was still at the table, bowed over his armor, polishing out the most recent dents and scratches. Without a word, Chilchuck crawled into the chair next to him, bringing his legs up to sit criss-cross, rather than letting them dangle from the tall seat. Laios looked over as he sat, but otherwise didn't acknowledge him and went back to his task. Rather than say anything, Chilchuck simply propped his chin on his hand and watched Laios. He was patient and two could play at this game.

Every so often, Laios peered up at Chilchuck from under his lashes. Each time, he squirmed in his seat a little more when he looked back down. Finally, he carefully set his tools aside and nervously asked, “Chil, did you need something?”

Chilchuck was quiet for a moment more, perhaps enjoying watching Laios squirm just a little too much, then he nodded his head in the direction of Laios’ sword. “We gonna talk about that? Properly?”

Glancing guiltily at Kensuke, Laios made a sound halfway between a whine and a sigh. “Yeah, I suppose we have to,” he answered, hanging his head.

Seeing the apologetic way Laios curled into himself, Chilchuck gave a sigh of his own and chewed on his lip as he thought. I was already pretty tough on him earlier. And he did tell everyone. Maybe… gods, I’ve gone soft.

Out loud, in a tone even gentler than he’d intended to use, he said, “I just don’t understand, Laios. You’re the one who said all monsters are dangerous. So why?”

When he realized he wasn’t being lectured again, Laios slowly sat up and looked from Chilchuck to the sword. “I mean, okay, first of all, I needed a sword.”

Chilchuck gave him a disbelieving look and Laios was quick to add, “And it was because I thought it was really cool. A sword with a monster inside! A monster I’d discovered! But then we found the treasure insects and Kensuke warned me about them and I thought…”

“You thought he wanted to help you,” Chilchuck finished, trying to let only his exasperation through and none of his fondness. He wasn’t very successful.

Laios shrugged. “Yeah, basically. Turns out, not so much,” he said dejectedly.

I guess that’s reasonable. I might have thought the same thing, if I’d known. But at that thought, Chilchuck frowned. “If you thought he wanted to help you, why didn’t you tell us about it?”

There was a beat of silence, and then Laios sat up to his full height and stared at Chilchuck with a raised eyebrow.

Suddenly Chilchuck was laughing. “Yeah, okay, fair – we definitely would have made you get rid of it. Or, Marcille would have, at least.”

Laios chuckled, too. But after a moment, he sobered and stared at the sword where it rested against the wall. “I really didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt because of it. Especially not you,” he whispered.

I know, Chilchuck thought, unable to look away from the regret on Laios’ face. You don’t mean for a lot of things to happen. But you’re just so reckless, and someday it might get you ki – He bit off that thought before it could fully form and shook his head with another sigh. This would get them nowhere.

Standing, he walked over to where Senshi had set the remains of their dinner and grabbed the last bottle of wine and two glasses. Back at the table, he stuck the bottle under Laios’ nose and shook it. “Want some?”

Laios looked up, smiling gratefully at the change of subject. “Sure.”

Chilchuck poured them both a glass, then raised his in a toast. “To not keeping monster secrets anymore?” he asked with a teasing smirk.

“To not keeping monster secrets anymore,” Laios agreed, grinning.

They sat together, talking quietly and drinking for, well, Chilchuck wasn’t sure how long. But he could feel his eyes getting heavy as he relaxed for the first time in days. He wasn’t quite ready to head for bed yet, though, and without really thinking about it, he leaned into Laios to keep himself upright. There was, perhaps, a small hitch in Laios’ breathing as Chilchuck fell against his side, but not enough to make him realize what he was doing. Soon, he felt his eyes slipping closed, lulled by the rhythm of Laios talking, the warmth radiating from him, knowing he was safer with this tall-man even inside the dungeon than he would be with most others outside it.

He slept.

The next thing he knew, he was back on his bedroll, awakened by the thunk of Laios’ sword falling to the floor – and Falin was missing.

my god there's so much left to write