#you’ve still got a lot to tackle but i know you can do it!!!!!!!!!!! you got your bros with you so nothing can stop you!!!!!!!!!!

[akkivee]

better late than never ;w;

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ICHIRO!!!!!!!!!!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY NEMU!!!!!!!!!!!

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

can you PLEASEEEE do something with the idea of reader stealing/wearing katsukis clothes?? you’re the only one who i think will fully do this idea justice xx

pure fluff, reader is a thief, reader likes the way katsuki smells, roughhousing lol kinda ?? katsuki sorta tackles you, katsuki is a meanie, tickling, no pronouns mentioned in this one I don’t think ! lemme know if i missed sum else !!

a/n : hey so this has been sittin in my drafts for literal decades omg IM SO SORRY🙁🙁🙁🙁ALSO BTW TYSM FOR THINKIN I COULD DO UR ASK JUSTICE I WAS SO FLATTERED WHEN I READ THIS I WAS GIGGLING N SHIT🤭🤭i was always so excited for this ask but I literally never got around to doing it after my break n stuff, im slowly (and that’s suuuuper slowly im so sorry yall i suck) getting to all of your asks one at a time and im so grateful yall r still givin me the time of day honestly , so please be patient with me🤧💗💗💍 ! But anway enough dumping ! Anon if you’re still sticking around, i truly hope u enjoy this ! And ofc all of yall too ! much luv xxx!!

"you fuckin' thief.."

shit. you thought he'd be gone for longer.

lately, you’d been routinely sneaking into katsuki’s dorm room and nabbing some of his clothes. sweaters, hoodies, t-shirts : as long as they were in your reach, you’d grab them.

it's not your fault, really ! katsuki's clothes are so cosy and warm and they smell just like him. plus, they're perfect to snuggle in when he's busy, how could you not borrow them for a little while ?!

..except you can admit that you’ve been stalling..and a lot of his clothes were still in your room, but you still planned on giving them back..soon !

and you can’t even pretend, because you’re wearing on of his hoodies that had been missing for a good week now.

"katsuki, baby." you slowly lean away from his clothes drawer, your hand ready to snag a black hoodie of his slowly trailing towards the floor "i can explain."

"all my damn sweaters, my fuckin' hoodies. they all just vanished without a trace.." he starts, slowly stalking over to you. you squeak, slowing getting on your knees to prepare yourself should you have to break his ankles and sprint out of the room. he's fuming, eyebrows twitching "thought i was goin' crazy.."

"and all this time.."

"suki.." you try, voice wobbly as your knees shake with each step closer he gets.

"it's been fucking YOU ?!"

and he pounces.

with a squeal, you scramble and dash away just as he leaps for you and narrowly misses, he's got you cornered as you're on opossite sides of his bed while you beg for mercy and he keeps yelling at you to 'come here'. in a panick you grab one of his pillows and fling it at him.

it feels like the pillow slides down his face in slow motion to reveal a look so vile a demon appearing in front of you right now would scare you less

“you’re. so. dead.”

there’s really nowhere else for you to go. you’re truly cornered, you might as well just be buried right now. you think about the leftovers waiting for you in the fridge and how sero still hadn’t returned the manga he’d leant from you, but you’ve lived a pretty good life.

before your body can decide to move, katsuki leaps over to you tackling you and having you land straight onto his bed with a loud shriek.

frantically, you wave your hands around “wait, wait pleasepleasepleasepleasepleas-” but your begs of mercy are cut off when katsuki jams a finger into your side, causing you to yelp. he hovers over you with a mean smirk. and you know what’s coming.

“katsu—”

you don’t even get to finish before he jams his hands into your sides and mercilessly tickles you.

from an outsiders point of view? this is harmless. but your boyfriend is mean and the biggest asshole in the world because he knows all of your weak spots and the places he knows will have you shaking and gasping for breath. it felt like actually torture, really.

“thought you could get away with it, huh ?” he sneers, leaning down a bit more so he’s eye level with you “thought you could keep taking my shit and i’d just neeever find out, hm ? yeah ?”

“b-but i—ah ! didn’t—!” you gasp and squeal, choking on the sentences you can’t manage to push out of your throat as your eyes squeeze closed. you don’t have to see his face to know he’s enjoying this.

“you’re a fuckin’ thief.” he spits, backing up from you so you don’t headbutt him square in the nose from your thrashing. you’re response is nothing but a harsh gasp and he smirks wider.

you think he’s finally, finally taken pity on you when his fingers slow to a stop, but he glares down at you, hands still on either sides of you “say it.”

you can’t even catch your breath before he hurriedly pressed closer to your sides to scare you, you shriek “stop ! m’sorry !”

“not what i wanted you to say, try again.”

“you’re—” you take a breath “sucha”

his fingers graze your shirt and his eyes are wide, daring you to finish your sentence, you bring your hands up to try to hide his field of vision.

“OKAY ! okay, okay…” you slowly lower your hands away, finally dropping them at your sides with a sigh “m’ a thief…” you mumble in defeat, embarrassment creeping up on you not only from the fact that you got caught but that the blond above you clearly enjoyed your torture if the evil snickers you heard we’re any sign of that.

he hums in satisfaction “mhm, no good fuckin’ thief. should lock you up and throw away the key on your ass.” you hate how handsome he looks when he’s playful like this with you. your sides still hurt and your voice is croaky from how out of breath you were and for a moment you seriously thought you saw the pearly gates.

you pout, and all it does is make him smile wider.

your boyfriend is mean. and the biggest asshole in the entire fucking world.

“s’not my fault..your clothes are comfy.” you mumble, crossing your arms over your chest. “and they smell good.”

he scoffs, leaning down closer towards you “that’s cus i fuckin’ wash them. and i haven’t been able to lately cus someone’s been stealing my entire closet.”

“i didn’t !”

“was boutta make me walk around naked, ya moron. all my clothes are gone.” you roll your eyes, he never lacked in the dramatics department.

“you’re such a drama queen.” you whine, sinking into his comforter. he ignores you and he presses your cheeks together with one hand, chuckling at your smooched cheeks and furrowed brows.

“stop stealing my stuff.” he announces slowly. he’s clear, no way you could’ve misunderstood him anyway. he sighs and presses a quick peck to your lips still pressed together

“if you want one of my sweaters r’something, jus’ come ask me. can give you one..or whatever.” he finishes, voice slightly muffled in embarrassment as he shoves his mouth against yours again and again making wet kissing sounds and you manage a giggle. he rolls his eyes, but a smile slowly crawls up his face anyway as he releases your cheeks. you let out a happy sigh, opening and closing your mouth to get rid of the slight soreness.

“take this shit off though.” he tugs at the hoodie you’re wearing “stinks. need to put it in the wash.”

“no it doesn’t !” you protest, pressing the color against your nose in an attempt to keep it close to you “it smells like you!” you pout. he doesn’t respond for a bit, opting to squint at you while the tips of his ears turned pink. and in a second his snatched the bottom of it and ripped it off of you, ripping a pathetic scream from you.

he examined his hoodie with an unreadable expression before his eyes land back on you for a second, then he slowly starts folding up his sweater “you trynna say i stink ?” he says lowly.

“no. i wouldn’t wear your clothes if they were nasty” you scrunch up your nose “you can take back the sweater in my room, though. the smell is starting to wear off.”

“gee, thanks for offering to give me my sweater back. weirdo” he glares, spitting his words out sarcastically and you giggle at his extra emphasis on his ownership of the hoodie which earns you a huff.

“ i’m grabbing all the shit you took from me, and they stay with me.” he starts warningly “but you can keep this, i guess..” he adds, patting on his now folded hoodie ready for a cleaning. you smile happily, running your socked feet into his blankets.

“ oh, but don’t forget to wear it first after you washed it, want it to smell like you. otherwise there’s no point.”

“you really are a fucking weirdo.” he spits, but the way his cheeks burn bright red say he’s not truly mad about it. you laugh, and katsuki grumbles. “hope you learned your lesson, freak.” he taunts. you hum in fake thought, then release a sigh.

“yeah, i guess i did.” you concede, and he nods proudly.

and sure, yeah, you’re boyfriend’s a big meanie. but you do a great job at riling him up.

“for now.”

[daphwritesworld]

#11 k. mccabe— LUNCH.

content: pussy eating (both receiving), face humping (k receiving) lots of kissing and making out lol, fingering (r receiving), public/beach sex, groping, drinking wine, tattoos, grumpy morning! reader, top!Katie, bottom!reader

warnings: mentions of tattoos, tabloids posting personal info/photos, mentions of a dvd player bc I'm old and still use them

synopsis: A much needed rest day has finally come for you and your girlfriend. She's got everything planned out for you both, from a secret appointment, to a movie date, and finally treating you to a nice lunch on the beach.

requested: yes

word count: 5.6k

!! MINORS DNI!! 18+ CONTENT

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An arm sliding around your waist is what you notice first in your daze of slumber. Your mind still hasn’t caught up yet, too focused on how cozy the bed is. But suddenly you’re being pulled to the middle of the mattress, your back hitting a chest as you snuggle into the warmth. You swear you could pass back out even easier now, the new heat source making you even more comfortable. It had been a long night celebrating your anniversary, especially since you both had a game first. You’d won 4-1 Arsenal, so the girls gladly helped you party the night away…but today is about doing all the things you weren’t free to do alone yesterday. 

“Time to get up, my darling.” Katie’s voice is always so thick with her accent first thing in the morning. The raspiness always gets to you, and she knows it, too. She’s often taken full advantage of your weakness for her morning voice. She loves whispering the dirtiest of things into your ears at the crack of dawn and letting her hands roam across your body, teasing you until you’re begging for her touch. Then she’ll flip it on you, clicking her tongue as she scolds you for running you both late to practice. “What am I gonna do with you, pretty girl? Always making us late.”

You turn around in her hold, burying your face into her neck as she starts to rub your back. The early ambiance of the outside world slowly creeps inside, like the birds chirping and cars starting to fill up the streets. You can still smell the body wash she used last night on her skin, taking in a deep breath of it as you exhale in a sleepy sigh, “Five more minutes, please baby.”

“Okay, hun..but only five more. Then we gotta get ready for the day, alright?” She’s met with a small snore from between your lips. Already back to being dead to the world in her arms. Her chest shakes with a silent laugh at that, trying not to disturb you before your times up. Katie slowly pulls your head back, resting it on her pillow so she can examine your face. There have been many days where she’s watched you sleep. Not in a creepy way, but in an endearing way. She’d often wake up before you and just admire how beautiful you look while deep in slumber. You’re like a piece of art lying perfectly in motion, her personal Mona Lisa who stepped out of the painting. Gripping the canvas as you pulled your way to be in the world of the living and took refuge in her heart. You’ve burrowed your way into her soul, carved out a spot there, and made a permanent home…but she wouldn’t have it any other way. 

She knew you’d be trouble for her the first day you attended practice after signing with Arsenal. Strolling right in with that perfect smile on your dumb gorgeous face, and effectively distracting her for all of warm-ups. She’d gone pretty hard on you that first day during drills, taking the frustrations of her attraction out on the pitch. And after all the teasing, slide tackles, and pushes she’d sent your way, that still didn’t stop you from coming over in the locker room and telling her she played well that day. A hand extended to shake hers and that stupid smile appeared back on your face, making her heart almost burst out of her chest (for about the tenth time that day). Katie swears to this day that her brain short-circuited at that moment. You were standing in front of her covered in grass and dirt stains, and she had been the cause of them….but you still looked like a goddess standing before her, reaching out an olive branch in the shape of your perfectly painted nails. 

For the first time in her life, Katie McCabe was rendered speechless. Blubbering her mouth silently like a fish out of water before jutting her hand out to take yours. As you shook hands all Katie could concentrate on was how soft your skin was, like an invitation to never let go. You giggled while watching her, “You’re cute.” 

As you slipped away from her, she stood frozen in place, like a deer caught in headlights. You turned at the door before you left, shooting her that paralyzing smile one last time, “See you on the pitch, McCabe…and close your mouth. Wouldn’t want our star defender catching any flies now would we?” And just like that you were gone out of the room, leaving her to pick up the pieces of her frontal cortex shattered onto the floor below her. 

It’s hard to believe it’s been a little over five years since then, and only four months since the proposal. You’re both currently living in your little bubble of love. Deciding together to keep the engagement to yourselves for at least two more months. The secrecy of sharing such an exciting and intimate moment from everyone in your lives has been fueling A LOT of sex between the two of you. In the locker room showers, the club meeting room, and numerous bathrooms or broom closets of whatever establishments the two of you have occupied. 

Katie sighs looking back at the clock, she’s already let you sleep an extra 10 minutes now. She knows how you are though, especially first thing in the morning. You’re usually her walking sunshine, radiating light off you everywhere you go. But you’re always her frumpy grump in the morning (as she likes to call you.) A frown and a furrow between your brows settle into your features as your sleepy eyes try to shut at any given moment. You’ve run into many, many walls that way..so Katie came up with a solution a few years back when you started living together: carrying you around like a koala bear until you can walk and function on your own.

Her arms secure you in her grip, hoisting you up as you stay sound asleep in her hold. She starts walking to the bathroom, knowing when she sits you on the counter it’s gonna wake you up. She turns the hot water in the shower on first, letting it warm up as she gets you up enough to hop in with her. The cold marble lights goosebumps across your skin as you jolt alive wakeful, your eyes snapping open to the bright lights above you. Your hips go to lift your thighs off the freezing countertop, but Katie’s hands stop you, pushing you to sit back down. Her hands slip under your shirt as you shiver at the feeling of her ring sliding across your warm skin, leaving a tingly feeling behind in its wake. 

A kiss graces the pulse point on your neck, Katie’s lips lingering as you start leaning into her more. The soft sucks and nips from her teeth start warming you up slowly. Like a fire brewing in your belly the more she teases you. She leans back for a second to pull you into a searing kiss, her nails digging into the skin of your waist now. It’s the kind of kiss that takes your breath away, leaves your face red, and panting for some fresh air when you pull apart. Katie pulls back enough to speak against your lips, “Time to get up and shower, sleepyhead.” 

Your face drops back into those distinct telltale signs that you’re frustrated. That’s made even more apparent by the way you cross your arms over your chest and let a scoff out into her face. Katie just smiles at you, used to your stink of an attitude in the morning after so many years. Honestly, at this point, if you ever woke up this early with a smile on your face she’d be racing you to the ER for a full workup of your brain. “You did not kiss me like that JUST so I’d get in the shower,” you narrow your eyes at her as you say it. “Are you saying I stink, McBabe?” you push her shoulder lightly with a pout on your lips. 

“Only your tude, darling….but your hair is looking a little doolally,” she says with a grimace on her face. The little smirk at the corner of her mouth gives way to her joking nature underneath though. You open your mouth to say something else all prickly, but she cuts you off with her fingers wiggling across your middle. Then she starts attacking you in flurry of kisses, all over your face as you struggle to get away from her.

“K-Kate! Katie s-stop!” Your hands come up to push at her stomach and chest, loud laughs ripping from your mouth as she relentlessly tickles you on the counter. “Pl-Please baby! Ok-Okay! I’ll get in t-the shower!” 

She pulls back at that, her infectious grin mirroring your own as she starts taking your clothes off. Leaving little kisses on your body as she concludes stripping you. She reaches for her shorts, but you slap her hand away. “Let me, love. Only fair that I repay the favor.” 

Your lips slot onto hers as your hands slip down her toned abdomen and start pulling her sleep shorts down her legs. No time is wasted as you instantly reach back up and take the band of her underwear into your fingertips. You rub the material through your fingers for a second, admiring the softness before they follow the path of her bottoms around her ankles. 

Then you’re gasping into her mouth as she’s backing you up into the counter you’d just been plucked off of. The articles of clothing that had taken home around her feet now kicked to the side, ironically right in front of the laundry bin. Her grip on your now bare hips disappears as she pulls away from your makeout. Using her now free hands to pull her sports bra off and toss it somewhere to be picked up later from the floor. 

She picks you back up, letting you wrap your legs around her waist as she leads you both to the now steaming shower. “I’m making you drive if all the hot water’s gone.”

Katie lightly slaps your ass as a response. The warm water surrounds you as she closes the door behind you both. She lowers you to stand on your own, hugging your back to her front as you both submerge under the downpour of the showerhead. “I’m always gonna be the one driving anyways darling, we both know that.” 

“Oh yeah? Says who?” 

“Says you miss pro passenger princess! I can’t remember one time you’ve ever sat in the drivers seat while we’ve been together…unless we’re counting when you’re on my lap while you let me–” 

“Okay! I get it, I get it!” You turn around and place a hand over her mouth, laughing as you come to terms with your new title. Deciding to tease her back a bit for causing the blush dusting your cheeks, “Don’t have to do a play-by-play for me. I know you love those, but leave our sex life out of your pregame rituals- EW KATIE!” 

She’s the one laughing now, smirking as she flicks her tongue back out at you. “That’s so gross, babe! My poor hand with your morning breath germs all over it!”

“Oh shut up! Acting like that same tongue wasn’t shoved inside your cunt less than 12 hours ago and been in your mouth ever since your pretty little eyes peeled open.” 

Your mouth shuts closed at that, the red on your cheeks deepening as you hide your face with your hands. “Okay, I’m not gonna argue with you there,” you breathe out between your fingers. You’re met with a kiss to the forehead as Katie pulls your hands away, chuckling as you reveal a small frown to her. 

“Turn around you goober, I’ll wash your hair. We really can’t mess around now or we’re gonna be late for our appointment,” she says while reaching for your shampoo. 

It’s always so relaxing when she does your hair for you some days. You used to always laugh at first because it reminded you of Charles from Brooklyn99 so badly. She never understood when you’d just burst out giggling like a madman and when she’d ask you’d just reply, “The most intimate thing you can do for a lover is wash their hair!” 

When you finally got her to agree to watch the show about a year after the shower routine started, she almost choked on her popcorn when she heard him say it. Yeah, she definitely chased you around the house before tackling you to the couch and tickling you as a punishment for making fun of her popcorn hazard. She really does love to use it as her weapon of certain surrender…because after five seconds you’re begging for a truce. 

The hints of apple and honey fill your nostrils as Katie’s fingers massage the cream into your scalp, pulling soft relieved sighs from your lips. She can physically see your body relax into hers at the act. She’d never admit it to you, but this really is the most intimate act she’s ever done with a lover…and it’s reserved just for you– promised forever now. 

“All finished, booger!” 

You turn around as she starts loading up her loofa, taking it from her grasp as you start doing it for her. It starts out innocently– it really does, okay! But like most things with Katie, they don’t stay that way for long. You can’t help but fall to your knees as the loofa runs clean water down her body now, the last of the suds swirling down the drain. “What are you doing, doll? I told you we can’t waste any more time messing around,” her hand comes to rest on the top of your head.

“And I told you I’d repay the favor last night, and I think we’ve established I don’t like leaving empty promises, baby.” Your hands run up her legs, stopping to run your nails up her inner thighs. The hand on your head turns into fingers in your hair as she lets a growl out, pulling your head up. “Stick your tongue out, darling.” 

You do as she says, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. Her hand moves more towards the back of your head as she pushes your face into her cunt, her shoulders hitting the cold tiles as she guides your head. Her nipples get hard from the contact off the wall, a shiver running down her spine as you start sucking on her clit. Your hands go up to grab her hips, trying to ground yourself as you get lost in the taste of her. 

“Just like that, fuck babe.” She’s gritting her teeth now, planting her footing before grinding her pussy down onto your mouth. “Open your– fuck! Open your eyes for me, love.”

And Jesus fuck you had to fight the urge to let them roll into the back of your skull when you do. She’s staring down at you with those alluring eyes, her long wet hair thrown onto one shoulder, and her abs flexing as she grinds down onto your eager mouth. You moan just at the sight, flicking your tongue on her clit as you let one of your hands come down to replace it. Then you push your tongue inside of her, desperate for a true taste of what you know she has to offer. 

“Pussy drunk aren’t you, darling?” she laughs out, holding you completely still as she puts a little more pressure onto your face as she humps into your tongue harder. The water running down her perfectly sculpted body is reflecting off the light coming into the bathroom. A sign of the little time you two really have, the rest of the world carrying on as you’re frozen in the spot between her legs. Your knees are aching and your jaws getting sore, but that bleeds into the background noise as Katie lets out a knee-wobbling moan. 

Her eyes burn into yours as her legs start to shake around your head, and you start grinding your face back up into her as she comes down. The roll of her hips bumping her clit into your nose in the chaos, more sweet sounds tumbling from her lips. She cums with a groan of your name falling from her lips, the hand in your hair dragging you up her body.

You let your tongue trace its way up her body as she brings you up to meet each other’s lips in a messy kiss. Tasting herself all over your mouth as she walks back under the main stream of water, you squeal from the chill from the now heatless water. She quickly washes you both up before hurrying from the shower, a new skip in her step for the day. 

It only takes you both about 15 minutes to get ready, you in a nice flowy sundress that Katie had surprised you with last night in the early a.m. hum of London. You’d stumbled in all tipsy, horny, but determined to swap your gifts before bed, and by god, you got it done, too. Like did you look at them for 5 seconds and then instantly sit them on the coffee table and fuck for three hours straight around on different surfaces of the house?...The answer would be yes. BUT hey you got the prioritized goal done before going at it like animals and that’s all that matters in your book. 

Katie walks into the bathroom where you’re finishing up your makeup, and your eyes almost pop out of your head. She’s wearing an outfit that throws you headfirst into ovulation early. There she stood in her tight tan crop top and white flowy pants. The glasses you had gifted her two birthdays ago, a gold necklace with your initial hanging from it, and the gold watch you bought her for your first anniversary to match.

It all comes together to make a delicious sight for your viewing. She comes up behind you, arms bulging as she places her hands beside you on the same countertop you’d made out on earlier. “Stop ogling me, we’re gonna be late you perv!” 

You roll your eyes at her before finally zipping up your makeup bag. You put on some lipgloss before tucking it in your purse and moving to go put your shoes on. “Wear comfy ones, I’ve got a surprise for you at lunch!” she calls out across the room as she sees you approaching the shoe rack on your side of the closet. You give her a questioning look, wondering why you’d need comfy shoes for whatever restaurant she’s chosen…but nonetheless, you comply. Slipping on some sandals to match your dress, and to show off your matching nails of course (courtesy of being paid for by your girlfriend). 

You arrive at the tattoo parlour right on time, not a moment to spare. You hop out of the car and rush inside hand in hand with Katie. She leans down to press a kiss to the side of your head after she’s talked with the man at the front, “You’re so lucky we weren’t late or you’d be in big trouble, missy.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” you whisper back at her, “but we weren’t, so live a little, babe.” 

She just shakes her head at you, following behind the heavily inked man in front of you until he pulls the curtains back to an empty room. He leads you inside and pats the freshly cleaned black leather chair, “Alright who’s going first?” 

—

When you leave the shop you’ve both got a huge smile on your face, hands intertwined and swinging as you skip to the car. “I can’t believe we really did that, Katie!” 

“Best believe we did, darling! Now you’re really stuck with me forever,” she pulls you back into her arms. Stopping on the sidewalk to take this moment in with you. 

“And always,” you say barely above a whisper, but it’s enough for just Katie to hear. Your fingertips move as gently as ever as they trace along her ribs, right under her left boob where the fresh ink lays eternally embedded into her skin. You’d both gotten matching ones– a cliche I know– but it was something you’ve both wanted for a while. Hers saying, “go deo” and yours, “i gconai” in the same spot. It’s a promise to each other that’s permanently carved into your persons; a pledge of forever and always. As cheesy as it sounds the words hold dear for you both, and the Gaelic spelling gives a deeper connection as well. 

Katie swears she feels her heart stop beating in her chest as the sounds of the city become nothing but white noise, her body leaning into yours as you share a soft, yet passionate kiss in the busy bustle of the city. You almost don’t want to pull apart, but the remembrance of your surprise is what fuels you to break away and start tugging her toward where she parked the car. “Come on, move it McBabe! I heard we’ve got a plan for lunch, and I’m dying to see what you’ve got arranged!” 

After a 3-and-a-half-hour ride, you finally reach your destination. She’s brought you to Priory Beach, the place you went to on your second-anniversary trip. She leads you out to a white tent on the side of the beach, out of the way enough for some privacy between you two. As she leads you closer you feel tears gathering in your eyes at the sight. There’s not just a tent, but blankets spread out, too. A mini table is set up full of your favorite picnic foods, a vase with your favorite flowers, two wine glasses, and your favorite red bottle to accompany it. A little fully charged DVD player is under the table, and the movie you two watched on your first date sits right beside it. But the polaroids of you two hanging from the white tull-wrapped arch is what does it for you, and before you know it you’re crying like a baby. 

Katie pulls you into her arms as she hugs you, a panicked look on your face as she does. “Oh lord, I’m sorry darling! I didn’t mean to make you upset or anything-”

“No! No! I love it!” you pull back quickly, your shiny eyes meeting her terrified ones. “It’s just..no one’s ever done anything this sweet for me. It’s a lot to take in, okay!” 

She throws her head back and cackles at the realization. “Oh yeah? Not even like…oh, I don’t know, say getting a matching tattoo?” She teases as she wipes your tears away with her thumbs, now cradling your face in her hands. 

“Shut up! You know what I meant, babe!” 

She puts a hand on her chest and acts like she’s just been shot at close range, “Not even McBabe? Oh, see you are mad at me!” She lets out a dramatic sigh, slumping down onto the blanket as she gets on her knees and takes your hands into hers begging for your forgiveness. You quickly do, laughing at her antics before she pulls you down to sit with her. It’s a beautiful view to have as you eat. The waves roll in as a backdrop to the movie as it plays. It’s really all just background music to the endless conversation between you two, the wine keeps flowing, and the hours keep ticking by. But it’s barely been 20 minutes to you both. Too busy drowning out the world around you as you get lost in each other’s eyes and voices, retelling the best moments of your love story as you reflect on how you’ve got to where you are today. “Oh, wow! The lights are a beautiful touch!” you gasp as they flick on, lighting up your space as the sun sets before you. The movie’s long been over and the DVD player dead for a while, too. You take a sip from your last glass of wine and lean your head on Katie’s shoulder, taking in the beauty of the scenery that you’re able to see up close and personal right now. The oranges, pinks, and reds reflect off the water. Ripples of incomprehensible vibrant colors all mashing into one to create an unforgettable memory. “Should we take a picture of the sunse– what are you looking at?” you cut yourself off as you look up at her, the last part of your sentence becoming a whisper. She’s just staring at you, with this unreadable expression on her face, it’s truly one you’ve never seen before (at least not awake). 

“You’re just so beautiful. I wake up every day in awe that it’s me you’ve chosen to spend the rest of your life with. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you, but I thank god every night that I’m holding you to my chest. I get to experience the best parts of life because of you, and I’ll never be able to truly repay you for that, y/n…but thankfully I’ve got the rest of our lifetime together to try.”

You can feel the weight of her words as she speaks them. There’s no smile, laugh, or distraction in her voice. She’s confessing to you, like a sinner in a catholic church. Spilling the contents of her soul out onto the staircase of your heart, and leaving it there for you to either clean it up or let it soak into the deepest parts of you. So you lean up and press your lips against hers. Katie grabs your face, turning you around as she yanks you onto her lap. Your half-empty wine glass goes flying, landing in the sand beside the blanket as the wine leaks into the ground staining it dark. 

You want to say something back to her, but your brain is just mush. It’s like she’s stolen all the thoughts out of your head and you’re just floating in this bliss called her. You’re starting to think she was onto something when she said you fried her brain that one day because holy fuck you’re really humping your fiance’s lap on a public beach right now without a care in the world like you two aren’t famous athletes. “Mmm Katie– someone could s-see us,” you can barely get it out as she keeps her lips on yours. 

“Then let them,” she says it so casually into your lips that you almost listen to her, but one of you has to be the responsible one. So you pull back and give her your best kicked-puppy look, a pout dancing on your bottom lip, “Please, baby. I don’t want to end up on the front page of some tabloid– at least not till I’m officially Mrs. McBabe.” 

She looks at you while biting on her bottom lip, her brows furrowed as she thinks of something deep in thought. You tilt your head at her after a few seconds, placing a hand on her shoulder to check on her. “Baby? Are you ok–OH MY G–” You’re cut off twice. The first time when she manhandles you into the air. The second one is when she continues to manhandle you between her thighs, resting your back on her chest and a hand over your mouth. “Shhh darling! Wouldn’t want to ruin my plan now would you?”

You shake your head no, still not able to use your voice. So she slowly moves her hand away from your mouth, and lets it slide up the inside of your thigh. “Your dress is long enough to hide my hand, and you can hide your face in my neck if you want to, okay? I promise no one will see us” and you nod your head in response. 

“I need to hear you say it. Is this okay with you, y/n?” Her voice is suddenly stern, a hint of her softness peaking out to wrap around the words in a thin veil. 

“Yes baby, j-just please touch me already! God, I’ve needed you since you kissed my breath away this morning.” 

Katie groans into your mouth as she crashes them back together, her fingertips digging into the skin of your upper thighs as they inch up closer to your heat. When they reach your pussy she’s met with instant wetness and a loud breathy moan from you. A laugh rumbles up in her throat and vibrates your mouth as they stay connected, “No panties? Fuck baby you’ve been needing it bad all day, huh?”

You whine out at her teasing, raising your hips up as you search for her touch. Bucking wildly as your body begs for her fingers. “Okay shhh, shhh. I’ve got you now, love. Calm down,” as her digits run up and down your slit. They collect the unfathomable amount of wetness onto her fingers, your pussy leaking like a hydrant for her. She slides a single finger in first, not wanting to overwhelm you before you’re ready. 

“Add another one, please,” you say through a small moan. 

“Only cause you asked so sweet,” she smirks back at you. “My sunshine girl.”

So she slides her finger out and quickly returns with a second one buried inside your cunt. She’s fucking you a little faster now, the reluctance from your tight walls finally letting up. You’re biting your lip, muffled little cries of pleasure audible to Katie’s ears solely. 

Her other hand finds its way into the top of your dress, popping a hand underneath your bra as she starts groping your breasts. She makes sure she gives them both equal attention, switching out every so often to not overstimulate you. Her lips find shelter on your neck, leaving little pecks when and where she wants. But when you start grinding down onto her fingers, she decides to add another one by surprise this time. 

It rips a louder moan from your mouth, especially since her thumb is adding to the mix and rubbing circles onto your clit now. Your body wants to squirm away, but you’re stuck between Katie’s legs, being forced into letting the pleasure wreck through your body. “I’m g-gonna cum, baby!”

You feel a smile against your jaw, “You’re my pretty fucking fiancé, yeah? I love you so much. I can’t wait to marry you, darling. Can’t wait to make love to you as my wife– my other half.” 

 she’s starting to ramble and it’s going to be your downfall. The feeling of her curling them to hit right into her sweet spot draws you even closer to the edge, “Let it all out, darling. Cum on and give it to me!”

And so you do. Your hand comes around to grip her wrist through your sundress, your nails digging into her skin as you flail around in her hold. Your back arches away from her chest and your toes curl as they kick out in front of you. Your walls squeeze her fingers so tight she has to stop moving them as she’s biting love marks into your skin, trying to let this orgasm run its course as long as it can. You swear you’ve never cum this hard– positively boneless in her hold. 

You hiss at the slight sting as she pulls them out of you, immediately bringing them up to her mouth for a detailed cleaning with her tongue. Her eyes roll back at the flavor of you that hits her tastebuds, and she’s manhandling you onto your back this time. The soft blankets swallow you up as you lay down submerged in them, “Wh-what are you doing, K-Katie?”

“I just need to clean you up a bit, baby. I’ll be fast, I promise. Can’t have you all messy the whole ride home, now can we?” You should’ve known at the sight of her smirk right then…that it was going to be anything but speedy, but alas you have fallen victim to the tongue game of Katie McCabe once again. Your legs thrown open wide, back arched off the ground, hand on her head as it disappears under your dress, and a brand new tabloid with a picture of that exact scene on the front page the next morning. But one detail does stick out enough to add it to the headline..the shiny diamond ring on your finger, only visible from the light off of the set up she made you. 

“You can’t even tell that’s us, darling! It’s too dark, we’re fine. Just gotta deny deny deny,” Katie says like she’s a genius. A proud smirk on her face as she tries to pry you out from underneath your fortress of the duvet. 

“THEY HAVE PHOTOS OF US IN THOSE EXACT OUTFITS ALL OVER THE CITY THAT SAME DAY!” it’s shouted from under your mound of protection..not for you– but for Katie. If looks could kill she’d of been dead 10 times before now, all hell breaking loose after you woke up, and not five minutes later you’re getting bombarded with texts of screenshots and links. 

“Okay your right…this is serious, baby, I'm sorry…So should we start the onlyfans on our honeymoon? I could retire ear–”

“KATIE!” And if that wasn’t enough to know you didn’t like that joke, then the pillow to the face should definitely get your mood across.

[bloomingdog]

Price with an ADHD reader

So self indulgent!

John Price who feels self-conscious thinking you like Soap more because of your similar personalities.

Soap and you are a tumultuous pair, feeding off each other’s energy, you’re good friends, you hang out together just the two of you. He’s not jealous, especially not of Johnny, but he does feel a pang of self-consciousness at times, feels bad about not being able to keep up with you sometimes, about not being enough. He wouldn’t share those thoughts with you, more of an inside thing, he feels silly. Of course those doubts melt away as soon as you’re telling him about how your day went, about how much you missed him, about what reminded you of him. All the possible doubts he had leaving as he gets showered with kisses.

John Price who just stands and watches when you get the zoomies.

A sudden burst of energy has you walking up and down the house following John around, jumping from topic to topic to the latest song lyrics or idle dance move stuck in your head. He watches in amusement and tries to engage in your jumping conversation.

John Price who falls asleep during your late night yapping and still responds with nonsense answers while asleep.

“-And yeah apparently emus can’t walk backwards, don’t you think that's weird? How can an animal just not do that?” Your before-bed rant has been going on for longer than usual, inspired by a Wikipedia rabbit hole that still lingers in your phone’s history.

“Does Laswell know?” He mumbles.

“About emus?”

John Price who’s reluctant to lay on top of you if you ask. 

“Please, please, please it’ll feel good!”

“Love, I’d crush you.” He had gotten you a weighted blanket for this exact reason. “Ain’t the blanket enough?”

“No! Because the blanket’s cold and you’re so much better better!” He’s reluctant, your puppy eyes are working overtime getting him to agree, which he does, of course. 

John Price who just sighs and plays along when you ask him to wrestle you.

In your defense, it' was's a good way to get rid of extra energy or help while understimulated. He’s currently got you in the loosest headlock he can manage while you kick and thrash. 

“Are you tired yet?” No answer comes, just more kicking that makes him release you.

As you try to attack him again, John effortlessly picks you up and throws you on the bed, which earns him a fit of giggles followed by an attempt to tackle him that ends you back in bed.

John Price who comforts you if you ever think you’re too much for him.

Big tears are coming down your eyes and wetting your face, you couldn’t pinpoint where all these feelings came from. You’ve got your face against his chest, voice shaking as you explain how you feel.

“I’m just a lot, you know? And I need you all the time and you like being alone and i want to give you space and I try, but I’m too much and-”

“Okay love, c’mon, none of that.” He cut you off after probably the thirtieth ‘and’. “We need what we need, and we work ‘round that all the time, don’t we? You’re not too much, you’re good just the way you are.”

John Price who lets you use him as a human fidget.

You’ve been waiting in this queue for no more than 5 minutes and it’s still getting you impatient, he notices, of course. The rapid looking-around, your foot tapping are all tell-tale signs of it. He extends his hand to you, which you take, and begin fidgeting with his digit and gloves, it keeps you well occupied, concentrated in the repetitive moments as time passes.

John Price who <3

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。THE SAME — GOJO SATORU.

✩ — contents ⋮ fluff, gn! reader, established relationship, recent chapter spoilers, just gojo coming home and reuniting with you :(

when gojo comes home, everything is still the same.

that picture on the wall that’s too high for you to reach is still crooked, no matter how many times you’ve asked him to fix it. the pile of shoes you keep by the door is still there for him to step over, no matter how many times you swear you’ll clean it up. that blanket on the couch is still draped messily over the cushions, no matter how many times you both agree it should be folded. and that bowl of candy on the coffee table is still filled to the brim, no matter how many times you claim you won’t keep buying sweets if he finishes them too fast.

everything is still the same, like you’ve left it all there waiting for him, hoping he’ll come home. and just like always, the way you run up to him and greet him by the door is also still the same—even though right now, your eyes are a lot more teary than usual.

“oh,” you breathe, “oh, satoru,” you say gently, like saying his name too loud will make him disappear. he pushes his blindfold up to his forehead, meeting your eyes as he’s opening his arms for you to fall into. if his eyes are a little misty too, you choose not to mention it, and he’s grateful.

“i’m home, sweetheart,” he grins, plastering that easy grin on his face. “miss me? you didn’t replace me already, did you?”

your face is buried into his chest before he can finish speaking, tackling him into a tight hug. gojo wraps his arms around you tightly, grounds himself with the weight of your arms as you clutch his shirt. you still feel the same too, still feel like that familiar warmth in his arms that feels like holding the sun, that feels like he can get too close without burning.

it’s not hard to see that you’ve missed him.

it’s been nineteen days without gojo satoru. four hundred and fifty six hours. twenty seven thousand three hundred and sixty minutes. it’s a long, agonizing period of time—one that makes you realize how accustomed you are to gojo’s presence—even when he’s not always beside you.

you’ve missed his whiny voicemails to pick up his calls in the mornings as you try to get ready. you’ve missed the bathroom mirror he manages to get completely wet when he washes his face after shaving. you’ve missed the socks he always keeps laying around the bedroom floor. you’ve missed the coffee mug he leaves for you to wash before he leaves for the day. you’ve missed the empty gallon of milk he puts back into the fridge instead of throwing away.

it’s lonely, you realize, when there are no voicemails to delete, no mirrors to wipe, no socks to pick up, no mugs to wash, no milk cartons to throw away.

you’ve missed gojo—even in the ways you swore you never would, in the ways that are imperfect, but not hard to love.

“no one can replace you,” you say teasingly through sniffles, pretending you haven’t stained his shirt with a wet spot, “you’re the only person who could be this big of a headache.”

“i’m the only person who could be this handsome too,” he insists, squeezing you tighter.

“don’t know about that one.”

“c’mon, just look at me,” he whines, squeezing your hips with his hands. you’ve missed them, missed the way you fit in between them, missed the way they find your body for a touch, even if it’s quick. “i’m the cutest.”

you pull away enough to cup his cheeks, pressing your forehead to his as you scan over his face. you could count every lash, stare at every curve, relearn every inch of skin if you could. now that he’s here, you can.

“i’m looking,” you breathe, pressing a kiss to his cheek. he closes his eyes at the feel of your lips, at the sear of your love melting through the skin and into his bones.

“like what you see?” he hums, making you chuckle as you nod.

“i suppose,” you murmur. “did you come back to me in one piece?”

“just who do you think i am,” he pouts, “course i did.”

“got all your fingers?” you raise a brow.

he grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together as he hums.

“all ten,” he confirms.

“both kidneys?”

“fully functioning,” he nods, making you grin.

“you seem to have both of your lanky old legs,” you chuckle, making him gasp a dramatic hey! “got all your toes?”

“you’ll have to pay me to see those,” he wriggles his brows, making you scoff as you swat at his shoulder.

and you’ve missed him like this too—in his laughter you feel through his chest, in his dramatic pout when you playfully smack his arm, in his finger he points to his cheeks for a kiss to feel better.

something tells you he’s missed you too, if the way he keeps his arms tight around you means anything.

because what is a god without his creations? and what is gojo satoru without the gentle love he’s built with you, created carefully between rough hands and the worn out knuckles? he holds you like you’re the answer to his prayers, like he’d kneel before you if you asked him to, like he’d rebuild the gates of heaven before your feet if it meant keeping you here in his arms for a bit longer.

gojo satoru is home. nineteen long days later, he’s home. he’s back in your apartment, the one with that crooked photo and pile of shoes at the front door, the one with the blanket on the couch to hold you under as he eats the candy you keep just for him on the coffee table.

he’s home, and he thinks he’ll never spend another night without you again.

“i missed you,” you say through a watery voice. he hums, wipes your tears with delicate thumbs that trace the lingering ache away.

“yeah? how about now, still miss me now?”

he smiles when you nod, kissing between your brows and swaying your body gently.

“always miss you,” you say with a teary pout. “don’t do that again.”

“i missed you too, sweetheart. don’t worry.”

“i love you,” you say, tasting the words on your tongue after so long.

and he lets his head fall to your shoulder as he hears them, lets out a shaky breath at the way they sound when you say them like that. like you missed him. like you need him. like you can’t lose him. like he’s all you have left. like he’s your past, present, future, and everything beyond that. like he’s yours in this life and the last, and always the one that comes next.

“love you too, sweetheart,” he says against your ear, kissing your skin gently, “i’m home.”

i love him painfully

[delusional-dinosaurr]

Not So Sneaky (Lia Walti x Reader)

“Vic please just pass the fucking ball” You whine at your best friend, Victoria Pelova. She chuckles in response and passes it back with a bit of flair. 

“Show off, keep it for the matches, yeah?” You smirk as she elbows you during some 1v1 practice.

“Foul! Ref!” You say rolling around on the floor pretending to be injured, quickly followed by Victoria attacking your ribs, causing you to burst out laughing.

“Alright love birds, we’ve got an important match to prepare for!” Katie helps you up from the ground after your assault from your best friend. Jonas gets you all to rotate partners and eventually you’re paired up with Lia Wälti, who you’ve been quietly crushing on since you signed for the team at the same time as Victoria during the January transfer window, both coming from Ajax. 

“Promise I won’t nutmeg you this time” You joke with Lia as you do your regular training activities. “You better not, I saw what you pulled on Katie earlier” Lia jokes in response, referencing how you nutmegged the co-captain as she was attempting to tackle you earlier on, causing her to be at the end of a lot of jokes so far today.

“Ah, who am I kidding, I can’t resist it, can I?” You wink, going to nutmeg her during your 1v1, with her expertly managing to stop it and successfully nutmegging you in the process. You fake collapsing in shock at how you’d finally been nutmegged by a teammate.

“You…you traitor!” You reach your arm out to Lia as you crawl towards her, as if you are so injured from the ‘embarrassment’ from being nutmegged.

“God you’re so dramatic” She rolls her eyes as she helps you up, instantly you feel the warmth in your body at the contact between the both of you being much closer than you have been before, your chests basically touching. You both stop and are lost looking into each other's eyes for a few moments, until Vic’s cough to your side breaks you out of your trance.

“Was I interrupting something?” Vic raises an eyebrow in your direction suspiciously.

“Nope, I was just helping Y/N up after I finally nutme-” “WOAH! What Lia was saying is that I fell over and she helped me up” You cut in, Lia looks at you even more suspicious than Vic was.

“Okay….weirdo. Y/N are we still going out tonight?” Vic asks you.

“Of course we are, you know I wouldn’t miss out on our Wednesday night date night!” You wiggle your eyebrows suggestively. 

“I’m gonna go get changed, I’ll catch you guys later” Lia rushes off.

“What’s her problem?” Katie walks over and asks, seeing Lia jogging off the pitch.

“No idea, we were just talking about mine and Vics wednesday night date night tonight?” You shrug.

“Y/N you idiot, you’ve been flirting with her and then making you and Vic sound like you’re together?” Katie smacks the back of your head. 

“Wait what? I don’t get it?” You look at her confused.

“Sorry mate, you need to work this out for yourself, not me” Katie jogs off going after Lia.

“It's okay, we're fine, we're fine.” You sigh. 

“Y/N/N maybe it's time you start dropping more hints for her. We can ditch our date night and you can always ask her out instead?” Vic suggests, you tilt your head in confusion. 

“But what about our date nights?” You ask. 

“Y/N get a grip, we can still hang out but you need to make a move” Vic says sternly. You nod and jog to the changing rooms a few minutes later to find Katie walking out giving you a supportive thumbs up. You walk in to see Lia half dressed and just pulling her shirt over her head, you manage to catch a glance at her toned stomach before panicking and turning away. 

“Oh god sorry I didn't mean to walk in on you like this” You panic, visibly flush and flustered. Lia chuckles in response and sits down on the bench, she motions for you to sit in front of her. 

“Okay right, I'm nervous as hell but I just have to get it all out. Lia I, I like you, like a lot. I don't know how it started but I've just been kinda admiring you from afar, no wait that sounded creepy. Okay maybe I did but I just, I'm not good with feelings but… I know I really do have feelings for you” You mumble really quickly, nerves getting the better of you. 

“But… What about Pelova? You seem to be very close” Lia asks with a somewhat sad expression on her face.

“Oh we aren't together, she's not my type anyway” You laugh. 

“Then.. What is your type?” Lia asks suggestively. 

You gulp, feeling a sudden rush of confidence flowing through you. 

“I'd say my type is brown hair… Likes football, plays for Arsenal, is Swiss, wears number 13–” You get stopped by the midfielders lips crashing into yours. It feels as if your body could go completely limp with how breathtaking her kiss feels, finally after all this time pining. After a few minutes you eventually break away. 

“Wow that was…” You say, again with the same flustered face as before. 

“Are you free tonight?” She asks. 

“Yep! Vic made me cancel our date night so I'd finally ask you out” You chuckle earning a glare and a shove in return. 

____

The next morning you wake up with a weight on your chest, Lia’s head resting on it with her hair all over her face. You gently brush her hair out of her face which slowly wakes her up.

“Good morning” You smirk.

“Good morning, I’m sorry if that was a bit much last night” Lia blushes trying to hide her face in her bed covers.

“Lia we literally had a make out session and pizza, it’s not like we had sex on the first date or anything…that’s the third date” You wink, obviously joking.

“God you’re so annoying” She rolls her eyes as she starts getting out of bed, you can’t help but admire her as she stretches, again you find your eyes roaming her body subconsciously until she breaks your focus by moving closer to you.

“You sure you want to wait until the third date?” She says positioning herself on your lap, in her shorts and sports bra.

“Uh…I…Um” You feel your face heating up as the midfielder smirks at you.

“I’m kidding…unless?” She winks, pressing her lips to yours and gently pinning you to the bed. 

____

It's been around six months since you and Lia finally made your relationship official, and yet it was still only you two and your families that knew about the relationship. You both decided to keep it quiet for a while as you didn't want people to know, so that you had time to figure stuff out and make sure you didn't let it have any effect on your games, as well as just having some privacy. 

Luckily all it had done was make you play better and be in a better mood, no one was suspicious until recently, you had a feeling people were noticing the longing looks you gave each other and the way you'd blush more at team events. You knew you needed to tell someone so today was going to be that day. You were driving Vic to training and she spotted something that you clearly didn't hide as well as you thought. 

“Uh… Y/N..? What is that on your neck?” She says poking your very visible hickey on your neck. You instantly blush, having vivid memories of the previous night, hearing the Swiss girl uttering your name all night.

“What are you talking about?” You panic, covering where she is pointing with your hand.

“The hickey Y/N I’m not stupid” She rolls her eyes “No wonder you’ve been less stressed, Y/N/N has been getting laaaaaid” Vic sings.

“Shut up” You groan.

“You gonna tell me who did it, so I can cover this up for you?” She tilts her head at you, motioning with the emergency makeup bag you keep in your car for you and your friends.

“I need you to promise you won't tell anyone” She nods as you pull into the car park, your phone pinging with a message from Lia, which unfortunately is connected to your car.

“One new message from Lia: I got the stuff for dinner tonight! I love you, see you at training x”

“Nevermind you didn’t need to say anything” Vic smirks, giving you a knowing look.

“Uhhhh, me and Lia have just been hanging out?” You say a bit higher pitch than usual.

“You know better than to lie to me Y/N. Why wont you tell anyone?” She sighs at you. You turn the car engine off and sigh, Vic has the makeup brushes at the ready and starts covering your hickey for you.

“Look mate, we were worried it’d change the team dynamic, especially if there’s some weird feelings with her and Caitlin still playing for the same team, and if we get distracted. Basically we’ve had a lot of time privately and it’s been so nice” You ramble.

“Well I don’t think it would or even has changed anything, Caitlin still cares about Lia, but as a friend and I highly doubt there would be any hard feelings y’know? You need to at least tell Jonas or a coach to be safe” She suggests.

“You’re right…” You both get out of your car once she is done applying makeup to your neck, and you head towards the main building, you search around for Jonas and eventually stumble upon him, stuck in conversation with your girlfriend.

“...but what I’m trying to say Jonas is, me and Y/N won’t let it affect how we play or work, if anything I think we’ve improved recently” Lia says.

“Ah Y/N! Great timing, I’m sure you’ve just overheard but Lia told me about your relationship, obviously it’s none of my business but I can tell the difference in how you two have been playing and just in general. Only positive things!” Jonas pats you on the shoulder “I have no issues with it of course, I’m happy for you both for finding each other”.

“Thanks Jonas, means a lot, like really” You give him a hug, the man being somewhat of a mentor to you over the previous year.

“Tell the team when you feel you’re ready. Remember we are a family, we support each other” He says nodding over to the groups of girls in the gym, all getting on with their own thing.

“Yeah maybe we should do it sooner rather than later, no more hiding this” You look at Lia who nods in agreement. You reach out for her hand as you both walk hand in hand into the gym to meet the others, somehow no one saw your intertwined hands. Lia decides to go on a treadmill rather than lift weights with you, so she gives you a kiss on the cheek before walking off. Jen seems to be the only one who spots it and within minutes walks over to you.

“Excuse me, what was that earlier?” Jen looks at you wide eyed.

“What?” You smirk.

“How long has this been going on for then?” She smiles, seeming proud.

“About 6 months, we’ve been pretty private with it and we wanted to make sure we were settled before saying anything” You say.

“Oi did I see Wally kiss you on the cheek? Where’s mine?” Beth comes over and slings her arm over your shoulder.

“Sorry Beth, pretty sure that’s only for her girlfriend” Jen teases.

“Since when?” Beth shouts.

“Why are we yelling over here?” Viv walks over, visibly confused and attempting to hush Beth. Lia takes the opportunity to hop off the treadmill and save you from the commotion. As she gets closer you start smiling over at her.

“Hey beautiful, you looked like you needed rescuing” She smiles reaching for your hand.

“Ah I had it under control, see?” You nod over to the girls you were talking with, who are all now gobsmacked at what they’ve seen and heard.

____

Later on that day you both get ready at Lia’s house, she’s wearing jeans and a crop top with a plaid shirt over the top but not buttoned up. You on the other hand went with a casual hoodie and jeans. 

“Darling, do we really have to go out with the girls tonight?” You groan seeing your girlfriend getting ready. “We could just stay at home…” you continue, trailing your finger from her chest to her abs. 

“Later, if you’re good” she kisses you hungrily and leaves the bedroom with a wink in your direction, as you audibly groan and flop back onto the bed.

“Come on! Our uber has arrived!” Lia yells from the other room.

“You mean Viv?” You chuckle getting your shoes on.

“Of course, who else?” She laughs.

You get into Viv and Beth’s car. You and Beth spend the journey singing in the back of the car whilst Viv and Lia chat at the front. After a short while you eventually park up and all walk to the venue the team had hired for the night. 

You and Lia are still somewhat wary of being affectionate in public, so walk side by side but not hand in hand.

Once you arrive at the club, you get yourself and the others a drink from the bar and return to find everyone crowding around some tables and having their own conversations, you take Beth and Viv their drinks first followed by Lia’s.

“Here you go, gorgeous” You pass her the drink and subtly kiss her cheek, she smiles at you, as you float around, being the social butterfly that you are.

____

A bit later on, after more drinks have been, well drunk, the group are getting rowdier and more daring, literally.

“Katie I dare you to do a backflip off that table” Kyra points over at the table for the Irishwoman to backflip from.

“Nope! Absolutely none of that here” Kim said, patting Kyra on the back with a chorus of boos coming from some of you. Your girlfriend approaches you in the area everyone seems to be dancing in. 

“I miss you” She says pouting. 

“Babe we’re literally at the same party with our friends, I was standing with you like 15 minutes ago” you say quietly. 

“Yeah but I always want to be with you” She frowns.

“Alright if we are still daring people to do shit, I dare Y/N to kiss Vic!” Kyra slurs. 

“I don't think that's a good idea, I've got a cold after all” Vic lies, everyone falling for it. 

“Fuck who else will she kiss then? Gotta get Y/N out there, she’s been single for way too long” Katie jokes as she makes eye contact with Lia “Wally how about you?” She asks with her usual cocky smirk on her face. 

“Sure. It's just a quick peck after all, right?” She smiles. 

“OI! Kissing is too easy, I want a dramatic kiss! Make me believe you're in a relationship or something, I don't know!” Jen pipes up sarcastically, smirking at you after finding out about you both earlier in the day.  You and Lia look at eachother and shrug as if to say ‘fuck it’. 

She leans forward and pulls you in by the hoodie covering your chest. You gulp in response, knowing that you find her even more attractive when she’s being bossy. She passionately kisses you and brings her hands up to the back of your neck whilst you rest yours on her lower back slowly drifting lower.

“Oi you two, save it for the bedroom yeah?” Katie yells to the group, you lift one hand from Lia’s back to raise a middle finger up at Katie hearing a chorus of cheers when you do so. Eventually you break apart, blushing whilst Lia is grinning at your friends who witnessed it. 

“Christ it's like you guys are dating or something” Leah says from the side, giving you a wink and head tilt to follow her. 

“Right, I'm not as dumb as these idiots, how long?” Leah asks you. 

“Around 6 months” You confess seeing a giant grin start to emerge on Leah's face. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, it's just..” She interrupts you.

“Y/N I've had an idea that there was something between you for a little while, and I know it's nice to have privacy and stuff, so I understand” She hugs you, you continue chatting to the side about how you should tell Kim as soon as possible, being the team mum after all. You hear singing get louder as karaoke starts, an idea springing to mind. 

“Wait right here I've got a great idea” You say, patting Leah's shoulders and stumbling off. You yell out to Kim, who's watching the karaoke unfold. 

“Kim, I'm sorry I haven't told you sooner but me and Wally are seeing each other” You blurt out when you get to her. 

“I thought so! You guys seem happy, so I'm happy, ah I feel like a proud parent!” She hugs you tightly. “Have you told many people yet?”. 

“No… But I have an idea on how!” You pat Kim’s shoulders as you walk over to the woman running the karaoke for the team and put in your request, but not for you to sing. When it's your song you walk up to take the microphone from Steph who was just belting Untouched by the Veronica's and hand it to Leah, who nods over at your girlfriend standing alone, watching you. You hear the opening notes to Lover by Taylor Swift as you take Lia's hands into yours on the makeshift dance floor.

“This one goes out to the lovers over there” she points at you and Lia before she starts singing. 

“I love you” You mumble into her ear as you slow dance together, she responds with a loving kiss which has you both gasping for air afterwards. As you break away from your kiss you notice most of the room's eyes are focused on the two of you, knowing looks and shocked ones too, alongside cheering, whistling and the odd “Go on Y/N!”. You avert your eyes from the girls surrounding you in a circle and focus on the beauty in your arms, her eyes sparkling as she looks up at you.

After you finish dancing you're bombarded with questions from teammates, some a little inappropriate and some very sweet. 

“How long has this been going on?” Steph asks. 

“Around 6 months, we kept it quiet in an attempt to not mess with the team dynamic” You say. The questions die out and you eventually get to sit back down in a booth with your girlfriend and some of your teammates. 

“Okay Lia I hate to be the one to ask it… But Y/N is so clumsy how on earth are you able to…have y’know… Seriously” Vic slurs, your face flushing red. 

“Luckily her clumsiness doesn't affect her… Performance” Lia winks at you. Some of the girls are trying to get more details, as you decide to dismiss yourself to get yourself another drink. 

“Y’alright?” Katie asks you at the bar. 

“They're talking about my sex life so I'm here now” You chuckle, tapping your card to pay for your beer. 

“Oh what! Let's go then!” Katie drags you back over to the girls. 

“-but yeah she's so attentive and honestly, the best I've had” Lia finishes her sentence as you slide back in, groaning as they're still talking about sex. 

“Y/N we've heard it all, no need to be shy. Your turn now anyway” Jen winks jokingly, with Alessia cracking up as you slam your head down onto the table. As you lift your head back up you catch Lia yawning and give her the look of ‘home soon?’.

You walk off again to chat with some of the girls to avoid discussing your sex life, and feel your phone vibrate. 

From Lia - 

You have been good today… So how about we go home and I show you something I got for you? 

“Someones getting laid tonight” Leah smirks at your red face.

“What? No it’s just warm in here” You chuckle.

“Bullshit, I can see Lia giving you ‘the eyes’ from over there” Nodding in the direction of your lover, who was indeed giving you the eyes, causing you to look back down at your phone which Leah is also looking at. “Mate, are you stupid? Go home!” She pushes you towards where Lia is sitting.

“Lee this isn’t necessary” You groan approaching your girlfriend.

“Wally take your girlfriend home, she’s being all awkward” Leah chuckles “Have a good night ladies” she winks as she slides away from you both. 

“Right I need to take this one home as she’s a bit too drunk, you guys need a lift?” Viv comes over right on time, you both nod and help her lug Beth back to the car. The short drive eventually ends outside Lia’s house, you say your thanks and goodbyes to the couple as you head into Lia’s house. You shrug off your coat and take off your shoes, but you notice your girlfriend has run upstairs to her bedroom. 

“Oh it’s so on Wally” you mumble to yourself as you jog up the stairs, the girl waiting in her room for you.

“Eager are we?” You smirk going over to her.

“Well I did tell you you’d be rewarded so” She smirks, pushing you firmly down onto your bed. You’re usually the one ‘in charge’ but it seems Lia had a different idea tonight as she tells you to stay still. She slowly removes her jacket, putting on quite the show for you. You try to reach out to help her with her clothes but she slaps your hands away. 

“Ah ah, no touching” She tuts. 

“Right, if you don’t do something soon I’m going to eat you alive” You growl, causing a quiet moan to slip from Lia.

“Well if you weren't already saying that, then you'll definitely say it now” Lia smirks, lifting her shirt up over her head and slowly dragging her trousers down and revealing a new lacy black lingerie set that could easily kill you with how stunning she looks.

“Oh my god” You mutter.

“Now… How about we go back to how you were going to eat me alive?” Lia says suggestively, pushing you down on her bed.

“It’d be my pleasure baby” You smirk. 

____

WE ARE SO BACK! Will be a return to posting a bit more frequently!

[c0sm1c-c01nc1dence]

Red

✧ Pairing: Hunter x human!reader ✧

✧ Content/warnings: Soulmate AU, takes place during season 3, use of the word ‘damn’ once, the title is bland and I’m sorry, Hunter and the reader are both dorks, first post on here!! ✧

The “rules” for soulmates, as it were, were pretty straightforward. You see everything in the color of your soulmates eyes. Once you make eye contact with them you can see in full, proper colors. Seems simple enough, doesn’t it? Well, not for you, it wasn’t.

You, for the past sixteen or so years of your life, had been seeing nothing but red. Different shades, thank god, but red nonetheless. And to be frank, you were getting pretty damn fed up with it. The thing is that no one naturally has red eyes. And you would know; you’ve googled it maybe a thousand times already.

So you were fairly certain you didn’t have a soulmate, and this was all some cruel joke from the universe. But life marches on, so there’s no time to dwell on that, is there?

───── ───── ───── ─────

Another day at Gravesfield’s high school, bland as ever. At least until you caught a glance at your friend Luz. Rather, former friend. She’d been acting weird ever since she came back from that ‘reality check’ camp. And not standard Luz weird, no— she’d been avoiding you since then. Acting like she didn’t know you at all whenever you approached her, not to mention her sudden lack of interest in anything she used to like. The Good Witch Azura books, most notably.

So, needless to say, you were a bit surprised at her new look. Curly hair, a new scar over her eyebrow, and a general air of seasonal depression about her. Even though your recent interactions hadn’t gone so smoothly, you couldn’t help but ask. You were still allowed to care about her.

“Luz?” You called out from down the school hallway. She turned her head in your direction, and you could practically see the stars in her eyes when she saw you. She ran towards you, almost tackling you in a hug. Stumbling backwards, you hesitantly returned the gesture. “Good to see you too?” You awkwardly pat her back, unsure of what to do at the moment.

“Y/N, I am so glad to see you! Oh, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” She backed away and wiped a small tear from her eye.

“We saw each other yesterday, though?” You chuckled, still perplexed by this whole situation. “Seriously, what’s going on? You’re kinda acting like you just came back from war right now.” Her face fell slightly, but her smile quickly returned.

“Meet me at my house once school’s done, ok? I have… a lot to tell you.” You nodded, and watched her just walk away casually after that interaction.

“Cool. Good talk, I guess?”

───── ───── ───── ─────

“So, if I’m following,” You began, now in the Noceda family’s living room. “You didn’t go to summer camp, but instead spent several months in a fantasy world, and the Luz I’ve been interacting with is actually a shape-shifting basilisk.” You pointed to Vee, who nodded shyly. “And in this fantasy world you became a witch, made a bunch of new friends, and got a girlfriend.” You left out the details involving Belos and the Collector, deciding that you didn’t need to recap whatever nonsense was going on there.

“Yeah, actually. You’re handling this surprisingly well.” Luz noted.

“I think I’m still in shock, to be honest.” You laugh a bit in disbelief. You couldn’t begin to comprehend what she’d been through during those months, and you kind of didn’t want to. “So, more importantly, do I get to meet these new people?” You questioned, and her face brightened.

“Of course! They’re upstairs, so let me go get them and I’ll be right back.” You waited downstairs with Vee, exchanging basic small talk. She apologized for the whole ‘impersonating one of your few friends’ thing, which was nice of her. Eventually Luz came back, new friends and girlfriend following behind her.

“Alright! Everyone this is Y/N.” You gave a polite wave, quickly scanning over the group. “Y/N, this is Willow, Gus, Amity, and Hunter.” You got a proper look at all of them as she said their names, your eyes landing on the blond last. Wait a minute, blond?!

As it would turn out, when you made eye contact with Hunter you could suddenly see a lot more colors. He clearly noticed this as well, as a light blush was present on his cheeks and ears. You could feel some heat rise to your own face as well.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” Luz asked, noticing your stunned silence.

“I, uh…” you stumbled over your words like an idiot, still staring at him. Saving what little dignity you had left, your phone dinged from your pocket. Checking the notification, you gave an awkward smile and held it up to the group. “Oh! You know what, that’s my dad. He probably wants me home for dinner!” You put your phone back in your pocket, and began approaching the door. “I’ll see you guys later, okay, bye!”

You got the words out as quickly as you could, and bolted as soon as the door was open. You ran back to your house, face still flushed from embarrassment and being generally flustered, leaving a room full of witches (and one human) awfully confused.

“Hunter, what was that about?” Willow asked, as he still stared at the spot where you once were.

“Um- good question.”

───── ───── ───── ─────

Later that day, Hunter knocked on the door to Luz’s bedroom.

“Come in.” She said idly, distracted by whatever she had been playing on her Switch. He entered her room, hands anxiously fidgeting at his sides. There wasn’t a particularly easy way to say this, so he just bit the bullet.

“So, you know the whole thing with your soulmate, and how you’ll only see in their eye color until you make eye contact?”

“Yeah?” She encouraged, curiosity evident in her tone.

“Well, it’s possible that maybe, perhaps, Y/Nismysoulmate.”

“What?!” She immediately paused her game, and whipped around to face him. “Really?! Tell me everything!” She sat on the ground and patted the spot next to her, encouraging him to sit down. He did so, face red from having to explain the whole ordeal.

“There’s nothing to tell! I used to only see e/c, I looked at them, now I can see every color, and they— I always thought your hair was black, by the way— and they just ran away!” As Luz sat and processed this information, Hunter continued thinking out loud. “Did they not like me or something? Is it because I’m from the Boiling Isles?” He questioned, grabbing the pointed tips of his ears. Cutting his rambling short, Luz spoke up.

“No, I don’t think so. They were always interested in fantasy like I was. Maybe they were just a bit overwhelmed?” She suggested. He sighed.

“I guess that could have been it.” He said, though the anxiety was still clear on his face.

“Hey, how about I try to get them to come over this weekend? You guys can talk about it then.” He nodded, and watched her grab her phone to message you. Titan, he hoped she was right about this.

───── ───── ───── ─────

A few days had gone by since the whole incident with Hunter. You had been avoiding him since then, though you honestly weren’t sure why. If you had to, though, you’d say it was probably out of shock. I mean, you were convinced you didn’t have a soulmate for years. And now this incredibly good-looking boy comes in from another realm, and he’s supposedly perfect for you? It’s absurd!

Though it was also worry. How would a relationship between the two of you even work out? He’d have to go home eventually, and you probably couldn’t come with him. Maybe he wouldn’t even like you after the way you left the other day, and he’d reject you before you even had a chance. That’d put a quick and easy end to all this.

You’d been really sick of the color red these past couple days. You usually were, but now it was for an entirely different reason.

Though you couldn’t avoid your problems forever, despite your best efforts. Luz had invited you over for a board game night to celebrate the two of you reuniting. And, well… who were you to say no?

───── ───── ───── ─────

The day finally came, and it had been going relatively well so far. No one else seemed to know what had happened or why you left that first time you came over. Though you and Hunter had been carefully dancing around each other the whole time. It seemed neither of you were equipped to talk about your feelings at the moment. But were you really ever?

Eventually you saw him slip out the front door. With a sigh, you decided to finally face the problem. No use in stalling any more than you already have. After telling Luz that you were going outside for a moment, you stepped out and saw Hunter sitting on the steps leading to the front door. He turned around at the noise, and immediately turned back the other way when he saw it was you. Wordlessly, you sat down next to him. After a moment, he finally broke the silence.

“You look really nice.” You glanced at him, and saw the pink dusting his face. You smiled at the way his blush would spill out onto his ears.

“Thanks, but I’m not really wearing anything special.”

“I know,” He continued, finally meeting your eyes. “I just mean, like- you look nice. You’re really cute.”

“Oh.” You said, quite simply, now blushing a bit as well. You looked at the ground beneath you, pondering how exactly to go about this. “So, this whole ‘soulmate’ thing, huh?”

“Yeah.” Was all he managed. His hands toyed with his pants, still a bit nervous about this whole ordeal. Unable to find the words he wanted, Hunter just looked out at the surrounding neighborhood for a bit. Eventually, though, he said the one thing that was on his mind at the moment. “So… what do we do now?”

“Well, if I may suggest something scandalous?” His blush deepened at your words, but quickly faded as he watched you intertwine your hand with his own.

“Wow, and we’re not even married yet.” He joked. You put your free hand up defensively.

“I know, I know! What can I say, I like to live on the edge.” He laughed, and you silently basked in the sound. You set your eyes on the sky above you, a handful of stars already visible in the late evening’s light. Maybe red isn’t half bad after all.

[flippinpancakes64]

The Cullens reacting to their partner being missing.

Some people kidnapped the wrong person at the wrong time, what would the Cullens do in that situation? How would they take care of her after finding her?

I love your work, I can read everything you've done over and over again, have a nice day!

The Cullens when you’ve been kidnapped

Thank you so much for the kind words! It always makes me so happy when you guys say that you like my works so much!

Also I know I just opened requests… but I am closing them again 🥲 sorry guys. I have over 20 requests in my inbox rn and I don’t want them to pile up too much! Please be patient with me

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

You told him that you were going to your friend’s house

Initially, he wanted to walk you there, but you refused

It was the middle of the day and you can take care of yourself

So off you went

You were supposed to text him when you got there, but a text never came

He was getting antsy

It was only a minute or two after you should have gotten there, but he was ready to bolt out the door

His concerns were solidified when Alice rushed into the room and he saw the vision of you getting tackled and pushed into a van in her head

He was on his way in a second

He followed your faint scent until it stopped in front of a warehouse

He didn’t bother to stop and listen through the doors, he just barged in

You were tied up on the floor, unconscious

Two men were nearby in the middle of an argument

You weren’t the person they were supposed to get, but rather someone who looked a lot like you

Either way, they were screwed

Edward wasted no time in killing both of them

He scooped you up and ran all the way to Carlisle’s clinic

He insisted that you stay the night to make sure you were okay

He is not leaving your side after that

You’re not even gonna be allowed to walk the five feet to the bathroom without him

Sorry not sorry

If he was alive, he would have almost had a heart attack, and he’s not about to have that happen again

Alice:

She was so preoccupied with visions at the moment

There was a tracker vampire who seemed to have it out for Jasper, so her mind was constantly tracking him

You felt bad even bothering her to tell her you were going to the mall

She just gave you an absent nod as you left

She was watching the vampire in her mind, watching as he made different choices, chose different paths

She was so distracted she completely disregarded the vision of you

She only noticed your absence when the sun began to sink behind the horizon and you were still nowhere to be found

It took her a lot of thinking to even remember where you had gone

Instantly, she took out her phone and tried to call you, nothing

A text, nothing

Your location had been turned off too

Then she caught another vision

This time of a group of men holding a gun to your head and pulling the trigger

Instantly, she was up

She replayed the scene over and over in her mind, trying to track down where exactly you were before it was too late

She flew into the basement of the house just in time, the men were loading the gun as she burst in

Swiftly, she knocked everyone out, and killed the man with the gun

You were in hysterics, so scared of what almost happened but also relieved to see your girlfriend

She just held you for the rest of the night, apologizing over and over about leaving you for so long, about not noticing that you’d been gone

From that point on, she made sure to ALWAYS tune in whenever a vision had you in it

Jasper:

You wanted to go out to the club

But Jasper’s not really into that scene

He’s gone with you a couple of times, but it’s never his first choice

So when you ask him if he wants to go, he declines

He accompanied you two days ago, that’s his club tolerance for the week

So you get all dressed up, give him a kiss goodbye, and you’re out the door

He isn’t too concerned, you’re going with your friends after all

He does start to worry, though, when 2 am rolls around and you’re still not home

Usually, you’re home around 1, but sometimes you spend the night at your friends house

He calls you, nothing. He texts you, nothing. So he calls one of your friends

She answers completely wasted and says she hasn’t seen you in a little bit

You went to the bathroom a couple of hours ago and she just assumed you went home or something

He always knew that friend was an idiot

He’s out the door in a flash, driving down to the club you were supposed to be at

He sees your car out in the front lot, and right next to it, a suspicious looking white van

Inside, he can hear your muffled screams

He rips open the door and sees a man holding a knife to your throat, asking you all manners of questions that you have no clue how to answer

Jasper’s always been very cautious about how he acts around you, he doesn’t want you to see him as a monster

But in this instance, he gives in to the beast

He’s shaking by the time the man is dead, and he frees your from your restraints

He needs the rest of the night to wind down and just hold you

He apologizes over and over for scaring you, for leaving you alone, that that even happened in the first place

Does not leave your side ever again

Rosalie:

You and Rosalie were out on the town

You wanted to go see all of the new shops that had moved downtown, and she couldn’t say no even if she tried

So off you went, coffee in hand and Carlisle’s credit card in Rosalie’s pocket

You were in a boutique, looking through all of the pretty dresses, when you found a beautiful dark blue velvet dress that you thought Rosalie would look perfect in

So you found her size on the rack and shoved her into a fitting room

Only while she was in there, a group of three guys came up behind you and grabbed you, pulling you outside

They didn’t get very far though before Rosalie stopped them

She ran out of the dressing room, dress still on

She set off the sensors as she ran into the street

She roundhouse kicked one of the guys, knocking out three of his teeth in the progress

The other guys she simply punched and they were down, crying for their mommies

Luckily, they didn’t have the chance to hurt you

So even though you were shaken up, you were okay

As she’s standing there holding you, waiting for the police to arrive, you have the nerve to laugh

“What the hell are you laughing about? You almost died!”

“You look really pretty in that dress, Rose”

She just rolls her eyes and kisses you

Emmett:

You were at one of your friend’s apartments in the city center

He was moving in and asked if you would come help

So obviously you said yes and obviously you brought your mountain-sized boyfriend who could lift the whole moving van

The three of you were working hard, grabbing stuff from the van and carrying it up the stairs

You had sat down on the ledge of the sidewalk for a second, catching your breath and drinking some water when a guy came up to you out of nowhere and tried to grab you

Emmett heard you and dropped everything instantly

But by the time he got down the stairs, you were gone

He could hear your muffled scream getting fainter as the man dragged you farther away

He bolted as fast as he could in the direction of your voice

When he caught up, he didn’t even bother asking questions

Punch first, questions later

Only he killed the guy

Not that he’s upset that he did, he’s just sort of frustrated that he’ll never get to know why that asshole thought it would be a good idea to try to take his partner

Either way he’s not letting you out of his sight

The only place he relaxes is when you’re at home and safe

Constantly on guard

Poor guy just needs to relax

Esme:

You had been begging her for a week straight to come with you to this concert

But it was a slipknot concert, and definitely not her speed

She entertained you for a little bit and listened to some of their music to see if she would want to go with you, but yeah that wasn’t happening

So eventually you gave up and decided to ask one of your friends to go

She promised she would make it up to you when you got home, only you never showed up

It was getting late, nearing 3 am, and you were still nowhere to be seen

She tried calling, texting, anything, but you weren’t there

She was getting really worried, when suddenly she got a call from your friend

Your friend was in hysterics, crying and screaming, it was hard to understand them

But from what she gathered, your friend’s ex boyfriend had showed up and drugged you, dragging you away from your car

And from what else she gathered, he wasn’t intending on taking you, but rather your friend

She immediately got in her car and sped down to the concert center

When she got there, there were at least 4 cop cars

Your friend was standing next to one, talking to an officer when Esme showed up

The officer pointed her in the direction of a different cruiser, and you were inside, blissfully asleep

She could have started crying she was so relieved

She got the story from one of the officers, apparently the ex realized he had the wrong person and turned around to try to get your friend, only to see that the police were already there

Stupid idiot

You didn’t remember a thing when you woke up, which was probably for the best

Oh well, at least now Esme will go with you to every concert

Carlisle:

He has a lot of enemies

Even though he has tried so hard over his expansive lifetime to be cordial to everyone, some people just can’t be reasoned with

He knows this, but he never thought anyone would go after you

He was at the clinic when he got a call from Alice, saying that she saw a man with red eyes taking you in your sleep and killing you

She didn’t recognize him, but after giving his description, Carlisle knew exactly who it was

He figured he had a couple of hours to get to you and prepare for the man’s arrival

But he didn’t

He took a lunch break at work and drove to your house, intending to warn you of what was to come later that night

Only you weren’t there

Your bedroom window was broken and your sheets were tossed all over the bed

Not to mention the stench of vampire that permeated the room

He completely forgot about your midday naps

He was instantly in searching mode

He got Alice and Edward to help track you down, both of their skills valuable for this

He found you in an old factory, a bite on your ankle that was slowly filling you with venom

While Edward and Alice killed the man, he sucked the venom from your wound, the whole time praying that you would be okay

You were knocked out cold for a week after that

He kept you at his home clinic, making sure to keep an eye on you at all hours of the day

He feels so guilty

But the moment you wake up and look so happy to see him, he feels better

Vampire! Bella:

She’s had her fair share of danger

I mean, when she was human she was a magnet for it

But in her time of knowing you, you’ve never posed much of a threat to yourself

So she’s never been too worried about you

You had asked her earlier if she wanted to go to the movies with you, and she had declined

She needed to go hunting, and it was going to be a perfect night for it

So you both went your separate ways

She left her phone at home, opting to keep it safe while she throws herself around the woods

When she gets home, it’s late, and you’re nowhere to be seen

She opens her phone to call you, only to find you already left her a voicemail

Not a good sign

She listens to it, and she can hear you whispering, your voice quivering with fear

You’re in the trunk of a car, and you have no idea where you’re going. You don’t know the guys who took you, and you’re scared

That’s all she needs to hear

It doesn’t take her long to track you down, your scent very prominent to her

On the other side of the door to the house you’re in, she can hear two guys arguing about what to do with you

Apparently you saw something you shouldn’t have seen

Oh well, now they’re going to see the last thing they’ll ever see

She feels a little guilty about killing the guys, but on the other hand she doesn’t

They had the gall to kidnap her partner, so they can deal with the consequences of that

You are now not allowed to leave the house without her

She follows you everywhere

And she’s always super close

Yes, she even follows you to the bathroom

No one will ever touch you again

[godmadeaterribleerror]

More Than You Could Ever Know - Part 1

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: On god they're about to be so cute. This was going to be one chapter but they can't stop fucking and I can't stop writing. Enjoy!

Title from All I Want For Christmas is You by Mariah Carey

Word Count: 8.5k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: A No Love Lost Christmas Special! Takes place about five months after the end of No Love Lost, sort of an epilogue to the main story.

The Boys start Secret Santa, Ben pretends to do his job. Usual Warnings, plus smut. Much fluff and smut.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, tooth rotting fluff, smut (fingering, oral f receiving, p in v sex), established relationship, Christmas Special

Part 2

Read on A03!

Doing this in Butcher’s apartment was a terrible idea, because the asshole only cleans when it’s his weekend with Ryan, and you’re right on the wrong end of that. Doing it immediately after work was a worse one, because you’re in heels and a too tight bra that you’re not allow to rip off, throw in Ben’s face, giggling when he all but tackles you into bed.

Doing it without Ben here to smile and pout and snark at might be the worst idea you’ve ever had.

And you’ve had a lot of remarkably fucking terrible ideas.

You’re not really paying attention to your friends around you, because you’re staring at your phone. Turning it around between your hands, waiting for Ben’s text to let you know Ryan’s home from school. That he’s not being bullied, and he’s doing his homework, and his powers didn’t cause what the principal had referred to as structural damage to the school’s foundation, and what Ben had correctly said was just a fucking accident. It’s not Ryan’s fault you pussies put the baseball field right next to the goddamn building.

There haven’t been any incidents since then—Ben had taken Ryan to a large, empty field and helped him figure out how to not turn a ball into a genuine weapon—but it’s still a delicate situation. It took a lot to get Ryan into a public school. A lot of promises of Ryan won’t hurt anyone, you fucking pussies, he’s not a damn baby, and bargains of Ben and I will donate, and go to all the fundraisers, but you’re not allowed to explicitly advertise that Ryan’s here, and many, many thinly veiled threats of if you don’t treat our son like a proper fucking human, I’ll let my wife yell at you. And she’ll rip you to fucking pieces.

You wouldn’t have ripped anyone to pieces. Literal pieces. Emotional pieces had been on the table, as had reputational pieces. It was one of the very few advantages of being so highly and strangely regarded as the woman who killed Homelander and the founder of the Soldier Boy Relief Foundation. People respected you and your opinion, which was an interesting choice on their part, but served you well. Ryan had gotten into the school, and he seemed to be liking it, so you hadn’t even been that mad at Ben for threatening the superintendent.

But you also don’t really get mad at Ben. Not ever. You whack his arms and wrinkle your nose and elbow his gut, but he always feels that you don’t mean it, and you never fight him when he tugs you into his arms and kisses you breathless and dizzy. When he mutters promises about fucking you stupid later, and calls you a brat, and chuckles when you grind onto his thigh in the middle of the office, and you miss him so much-

It’s barely been six fucking hours, Sunshine.

You scowl into the air, even as your whole body sings from the feeling of Ben, strong and deep and flaring in your chest. Shut up, you’re supposed to be picking up Ryan-

Already got him. We’re home.

You were supposed to text me, Benjamin-

Why, I’m telling you right fucking now-

Because Singer’s still on our ass. You sigh, tapping your fingers on the back of your phone. And the Ben’o’phone isn’t admissible in a court of law to prove we’re well-suited parents.

Singer can shove it up his fucking dick-

Ben, please- You cut yourself off as your phone buzzes, the screen lighting up with a message.

Benjamin; Stupid fucking handsome asshole husband

Ryans hoem

R u fuckingg happy sunshine

You smile, typing back Yes. Thank you, grumpy.

Shut the fuck up, Ben grumbles in your head, and all his adoration flares in your chest as you smile into the air like an idiot.

I love you, you massive fucking man-child.

I love you too, brat. Why the fuck aren’t you home yet.

You can almost picture his half-pouting scowl, feel the warmth of his body around you and smell pine drifting through the air. Meeting with everyone.

Everyone.

Yep.

Why the fuck is everyone meeting without me-

Because you’re picking up Ryan.

We could’ve made fucking Butcher do that-

Butcher doesn’t have a super awesome wife who’s going to tell him everything when she gets home, my love.

There’s a pause, and then Ben mutters between the low words of your friends talking around you, Be fucking fast.

MM says your name, looking between you and the bowl on the center of the table. “You put Ben in there?”

I always am. You nod to MM as Ben moves back to a quiet, warm hum in your chest, and tuck your phone into your pocket. “Yeah. I’ll give him his name when I get home.”

“And we’re sure Ben knows how Secret Santa works?” Hughie scratches the back of his neck with a sheepish expression, and you sigh.

“No. But I can explain it to him.”

“Old cunt ever even celebrated Christmas?” Butcher mutters, his feet kicked up on the table. “He don’t seem like the spirit of givin’ type.”

You flip Butcher off, your words short and firm. “He’s not a million Butcher, he’s celebrated Christmas before.”

Ben seems to love Christmas. Or at least grumpily acknowledge it with a soft, easy glow over his ribs and a relaxed face, which is the closest thing he gets to loving something that’s not you or Ryan. He’d told you, at the beginning of the month, that it was the only time his father didn’t drink as much. The only time his mother got to love him and not be caught between he and his father’s fights. The only time he got something as a child that he wasn’t expected to feel sorry or wasteful for receiving. 

You wish there was some sort of supe that could communicate with ghosts or raise the dead. You’d mimic their powers, bring Ben’s father back, and then kill him again.

“Alright, Love.” Butcher raises his hands up in mock surrender. “Just makin’ sure.”

“Suck my fucking dick-“

“Can we, um,” Annie gives you an apologetic look as she cuts you off. “Can we draw? Now? Everyone has work tomorrow, and I would like to go home and eat my weight in sushi.”

Hughie nods, grinning down at Annie. “And watch Love Island.”

“Love Island?” MM raises his brows, and Annie blushes.

“It’s fun-“

“Names, cunts.” Butcher leans forward, pulling his paper, and looks around at the rest of the group. “Before time get’s all our sorry fuckin arses. Except yours. Love,” Butcher winks at you. “You’re stuck ‘ere till the sun goes out.”

“Eat me, Butcher.”

“Oi, I’m not above tellin the Gov you said that-“

“Ben would kick your sorry ass if you said that, Butcher.” MM’s voice is flat as he interrupts, leaning over the table to draw his paper. “You might be a supe now, but that motherfucker would beat up a mountain if it insulted her honor.”

You snort as Butcher’s sour expression, and give MM a grateful nod. Everyone here knows you don’t really have honor—at least not in a way that matters—but they also know that Ben doesn’t really care about that. His notion of your honor is subjective. You’re, apparently, above killing and straining labor, so he does that for you, but he also threatens congressmen and rude parents of Ryan’s classmates with his wife. You don’t lie to him, but he’s flat out encouraged you to commit perjury. He’d threatened a journalist who said you spread your legs for any powerful supe, but then shoved your knees apart to bury himself inside you and fuck you until you were a slurring, whiny mess under him.

It seems to mostly be about what you think of the insult. If that mountain called you a slut and you laughed, Ben would just glower, standing tall and ridged at your side. If it said the same thing and you stopped talking—cold spreading through your body and a ringing in your ears—Ben would make the mountain regret being born.

You miss him so fucking much.

Once everyone has a name and you’re sure no one’s pulled their own name, you leave Butcher’s apartment with grins and half-goodbyes. You, Annie, MM, and Hughie will all see each other tomorrow, and Frenchie, Kimiko, and Butcher will do the same.

It’s a short drive home from Butcher’s apartment, but that’s by design. For Ryan. Butcher lives in the city, and you and Ben are in the outskirt suburbs. You’d say Ben’s benefitting more from this arrangement—Butcher lives right above their office, while you have to drive to downtown for yours—but you’re the one who fought for this. The one who convinced Ben that Philadelphia would be a good place to live, because there was enough to not get bored, not enough that you’d never have peace, and it was halfway between New York and Washington. Most of the supe cleanup contracts that Ben, Butcher, Frenchie, and Kimiko got contracted for ended up being in New York—you’ve called Ben a murder maid several times, and he always rolls his eyes, kisses the top of your head, and mutters we don’t fucking murder people, we just get them in line when they’re being damn idiots—while a lot of your work is in DC, dealing with the more technical side of the post-Vought mess.

Ben hadn’t wanted you to call it the Soldier Boy Relief Foundation. He’d scowled at you as you’d told him and MM the idea, and their glares had been almost identical.

“There’s no fucking way you’re calling it that.” Ben had snapped, and MM had shot him a look of surprise.

“I mean, not that I don’t agree,” MM had said, scanning over Ben with a frown. “But why the hell do you think that.”

“Because Soldier Boy’s fucking dead. You,” he’d bumped his shoulder with yours, rough affection spreading over his ribs, even as he continued to glower. “Fucking killed him, Sunshine. Don’t use that name.”

You’d wrinkled your nose at him. “First of all, that’s very romantic, Pretty Boy. I’ve always wanted to metaphorically murder my husband.”

Brat-

“But,” you’d continued, kicking Ben’s shin as he’d started to smirk. “I have reasons to name it that.”

MM had scoffed. “There is not a chance you’ve got reasons to justify using that name-“

“It will draw attention.” You’d raised your fingers as you listed the reasons, using a bored, plain tone. “The whole point of this is to get as many victims of Vought and Homelander as much help as possible. Labelling it with Soldier Boy’s name will put it on people’s radar-“

“So would calling it the Starlight or Anomaly relief Foundation-“

You’d shaken your head, giving MM a flat look. “Annie’s supe name is already tainted in the public eye. Mine is controversial. If people hear the Anomaly Relief Foundation, they’ll form an automatic opinion based on the trials and news stories they’ve read. Soldier Boy will get people to actually look at what we’re doing. Older victims will be more likely to come out of the woodwork, supes that admired Ben growing up will be more willing to see what we’re offering them, and congress is full of old white assholes who will love it.”

MM had frowned, but nodded for you to continue, and you’d raised a second finger.

“Vought’s copyright on Soldier Boy expired last year, but Starlight and the Anomaly won’t be available for public use for another forty. Even if Vought goes down, they could drag us with them on petty litigations and technicalities, and we don’t need that right now. Finally,” you’d raised a third finger. “I think it’s poetic, and funny, and rubbing how we won in Homelander stupid dead face.”

You’d won that argument. And the argument about where to live. And the argument about letting Butcher have alternate weekends with Ryan.

That last one had been the easiest to win. For the name debate you’d had to convince Ben and MM, and for the city debate you’d had to convince the whole team of stubborn assholes you called your friends, but for the last one you’d only had to convince Ben. And you always convince Ben. He puts up a grumbled argument, and you tear down his points with teasing, loving words, and he gives in with a grunt. But you always see his small grin, and feel all his love and care and affection bursting from that piece of him near your heart, and he devours your face and neck and cunt until your knees get weak and you almost fall over.

You might love him more than life.

He’s waiting for you when you get home. You barely open the door before he’s on you, sweeping you into a long, deep kiss and groaning down your throat.

Hi, Benjamin. You mumble between your heads, and his chuckle rolls through your whole body.

“Hi, Sunshine.” He grins at you as he pulls away, hauling you up his chest as you gape at him a little stupidly. It’s not fair how he somehow keeps getting more handsome, how a domestic, peaceful life looks so good on him it might drive you insane. How his shirt under your hands is clean and soft and easy to tug on, to pull him back onto your mouth. How, when you finally get your shoes off, they’re on a mat right next to his, and that makes you feel all warm and fuzzy. How his beard is so well-trimmed because there’s nothing to rush for, and the whole house smells like pine because of Ben’s constant presence, and when he carries you up the stairs he doesn’t bother to look where he’s going because he already has the path memorized.

“Wait,” you push up on Ben’s chest, dropping your chin on his shoulder. “Ryan-“

“Hi!” Ryan calls your name from downstairs. “I’m doing homework!”

Don’t know how the fuck he’s my blood. Ben mutters in your head, never breaking his pace. He’s all damn smart and good at homework. “You know the drill, Kid?”

“Dinner in forty, only bother you if it’s an emergency!”

Smug pride inflates in Ben’s chest, and when you lean back he’s already grinning at you with darkened, blown out eyes, his half-hard cock already poking at your thigh.

You wrinkle your nose at him. We are not fucking with Ryan in the house.

We fuck with Ryan in the house all the damn time-

When he’s asleep, or watching TV, or has his headphones on. Not when he can hear it.

Then we’ll have him put headphones on-

You are not asking Ryan to use his headphones so we can have sex. You give Ben’s borderline pout a sweet smile, and lean forward to kiss over his beard. But when he goes to bed, I’ll let you do the thing.

Ben’s hunger grows white-hot and ravenous in your body, and when you meet his eyes, they’re darkened and peeling you apart. You have to squirt.

I can’t control that-

Whatever. Ben kicks open the door to your room, shooting you a wink. You have to let me make you fucking squirt, beautiful. No holding back.

You snort. When have you ever held back during sex.

I managed not to fuck you for six goddamn months. His voice is almost a growl in your head, and it’s not help your resolve to not have sex in the slightest. That’s some goddamn restraint, brat. He drops his mouth to that one spot on your throat, sucking and biting until your fingers curl in his hair. You’re fucking hot.

Thanks. Your voice is breathless, even between your heads, and you give a weak pull of Ben’s hair that only spurs him on. Wait, Ben, I need to talk to you-

That makes his pull away in an instant, his attention vigilant as he scans over your face, your skin suddenly wrapped in his concrete resolve. What the fuck is-

Nothing’s wrong. You take his face between your hands, giving him a soft smile. It’s about the meeting with everyone.

The one that you didn’t fucking invite me to.

The one, you swat at his arm, sticking your tongue out. That I’m trying to tell you about now, you big baby.

Fine. Ben grumbles in your head, watching you expectantly. What.

Have you ever done Secret Santa before?

Once. Vought party in the 80s.

You raise your brows at him. Really? How did that go?

I don’t fucking remember-

Well, it was forty years ago. You hold his face between your hands with a mock pout. Is your memory going, Benjamin? Do Ryan and I have to put you in a home-

Shut the fuck up, brat. Ben moves you flat on your back, kissing a very distracting line along your jaw as your finger curl in his hair.

Ben- You tug him back up—because if he keeps that up, you’ll never get around to telling him anything except more—and the asshole rises up with his hunger covering your bones and muscles, his body big and warm and strong over yours-

“Yes, darling?” Ben drawls, smirking down at you, and you scowl.

“You’re such a fucking cunt-“

“You love it,” he shrugs, still hovering over your body. “Tell me what the fuck the meeting was about to so I,” he pushes his knee between your thighs. “Can focus on this.”

Not with Ryan in the house-

You’ll just have to be quiet. He presses his knee up, bumping right over your clit, and grins at your small whine. Tell me about the meeting.

We’re, fuck- You grind pathetically against him, and Ben drops his weight to down to trap you against the mattress stilling the movements. You dick-

I’ll give you my dick. He kisses you once, long and slow, guiding your arms fully around his neck. Just use your fucking words, beautiful.

It’s a miracle you remember how words work, let alone say any of them, because Ben dives back down to your neck—keeping you pinned down as he works you into a gasping, writhing mess under him—and everything becomes very simply Ben in your mind and body.

“I, um,” he nips at your throat, and you have to swallow a moan. “Kimiko wanted to do something, for the Holidays, and Hughie suggested Secret Santa, so we’re, fuck, Ben, we’re doing that-“

Ben rises back up to frown at you, and you whine at the loss. “Doing what.”

“Secret Santa,” you whisper, taking the moment of his distraction to wrap your legs around his torso. “I put your name in, and, um,” you let go of him for a second, fumbling around in your pocket for Ben’s paper, folded neatly while yours was crumpled. “I grabbed yours.”

Ben wraps an arm around you as he sits up, pulling you to fall over his chest and curl in his lap. “That,” he nods to the paper, still in your hand. “Is who I have to get the gift for.”

You nod with a hum, passing it into his hand. “I didn’t look,” you say, watching him un-wrinkle it. “So don’t-“

“Butcher?” Ben looks up at you with a scowl, a hot, stinging itch spreading over his skin and sitting in his fingers. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with Butcher.”

You sigh. “Tell me. Don’t tell me, Ben.”

“I had to fucking tell you,” he snaps your name, glaring at the paper. “I can’t get a gift for fucking Butcher, all he does is fucking work and pussy around, fucking asshole probably doesn’t even want anything like a normal damn human-“

“There has to be something.” You mumble, tapping your fingers on Ben’s arm. “We’ll figure it out, Ben. I’ll help you. But you can’t tell anyone I did, and you have to pretend you don’t think this is stupid-“

“I don’t think it’s stupid-”

You give him a flat look. “Benjamin-“

“I think Butcher’s a fucking ball strainer.” Ben shrugs, fisting his paper into a ball and tossing it onto the floor. “But I’ve got you, Sunshine, so I’m good.”

You flush, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Ball strainer’s a new one. I like it.”

“Good,” Ben mutters, relaxing under your hands, the glow returning in his chest. “Who the fuck did you get.”

“I’m not telling you.”

“Why the fuck not, I told you mine-“

“Which you weren’t supposed to do.” You give him a flat look, and he rolls his eyes. “It’s Secret Santa. You’ll find out with everyone else.

“What’s the fucking point of being married,” Ben grumbles, pulling you a little further up his chest. “If my wife won’t tell me all her secrets.”

“You already know all my secrets, Benjamin.”

“Not fucking all of them-“

“This isn’t a secret.” You smile at him, and the glow spreads up his spine. “It’s a surprise.”

“Whatever.” He grumbles. “Sounds like a fucking secret.”

You kiss his cheek with a soft hum. “Grumpy-“

Your words die in a yelp as Ben flips you over, crashing his mouth into yours with a fervor, his hands squeezing and kneading at your waist.

“Brat,” he growls, and you have to bite your tongue to hold down a loud plea of his name. “I’m going to fuck you stupid, Sunshine, make you fucking drool and beg.” He bites on your lower lip, his knee pushing back to your core, and you whimper. “But you need to keep quiet.”

You will not be able to keep quiet. You’re grinding desperately against him, your mouth slack and open, and your whole body warm and sensitive and buzzing with Ben. Leaving wet, open kisses down your neck, replacing his knee with a broad hand cupping your pussy, groaning onto your skin as he twitches against your thigh.

“Ben-“

“Do you need some fucking help?” He drawls, crawling back up over you with a smirk. “Can’t keep that smart, pretty mouth closed?”

“Fuck,” you gasp as he pushes your panties to the side, running one finger between your folds. “God, Ben, fuck you-“

“I will.” He winks at you, his whole body still filled with adoration and hunger as his tone becomes stern. “Just ask real fucking nice, and I’ll fuck you all you damn want, Sunshine.”

“Ben, please-“

“Think you can keep it the fuck down?”

You nod frantically as Ben’s thumb moves to your clit, rubbing around it but never on it. A metallic tang sits in your mouth as you chew through your cheek, and Ben must see the tint of red or feel the sting of pain, because he pulls back suddenly, and you can’t stop your moan of protest.

“Not going to let you fucking hurt yourself.” He mutters, raising your legs up as he pulls off your underwear. You can talk here, he balls up the cloth, rising back up over your body. But that’s it. Got it?

You glance at the underwear in his hand, and swallow as you realize what he means, your mouth falling open without a single other thought.

Fucking words-

Got it. You smile up at him, curling a hand in his shirt to tug him down into a deep, easy kiss, pulling his tongue between your teeth. Fuck me.

He rises back up, scanning over your features with an attentive, rough care that pulls you apart and makes your whole body molten. There’s a sharp, sore ache over his skin and in his muscles, his free hand trailing slowly over your thighs, and God, if he doesn’t fuck you right now you might die.

Please, Ben. You grind up into the air, letting all of your love and thirst for him leak out of your body and into his. Please.

You can see the moment it hits him. His eyes flash, his nostrils flare, and if there was anything holding him back from just fucking you it’s gone. He presses his thumb on your lower lip in a silent request for you to open, and when you do he looks almost feral. He groans as he stuffs your panties into your mouth, tracing broad fingers over your cheekbones and squeezing your waist as he draws back.

Going to go slow, he mutters in your head, angling your hips up into the air so your ass is resting on his thighs, your dripping pussy is fully at his mercy. Take my fucking time.

Ben-

He slaps your pussy once, and your moan is muffled as your eyes roll back in your head.

So fucking wet, he says your name in the silence, smirking at you as he repeats the movement and your hips buck into the air. And fucking needy, already whining and I’ve barely damn touched you-

Please, you widen your eyes at him, your fingers curling in the sheets when he drags his thumb up, over your slit, and presses hard on your clit. Fuck, Ben-

What do you want, darling. He presses his thumb down, angling it so he can tease your already fluttering cunt with two forefingers. You want my fingers? He shoves them deep into you, crooking them as they hit that deep, soft spot that makes everything in your body sing.

Fuck-

Or, he kisses a sloppy path down your chest—pausing only to flick his tongue over your nipple and smirk at your high, muffled noise of need—and moves one hand back to your hips, adjusting you further upwards as he buries his face between your legs. My mouth?

His beard brushes and tickles your thighs as he tongue-fucks you, his nose bumping your clit, and God, it’s everything. Ben’s everything. Just the sight of him—in all his stupid, handsome glory, all of it just for you—makes you dizzy. And he’s touching you like you’re holy and grinning against your cunt as you make high, muffled sounds, and you’re so close already and he’s so good-

Ben. You don’t have to the strength to push up on your elbows and fully look at him, and he’s holding you still with big, warms hands that pull and rub at your skin, so all you can do is moan into the mock-gag and arch your back when he licks a rough stripe up your cunt. Fuck, Ben, I need you, please-

He hums against you, flattening his tongue on your clit as one hand snakes back under your ass, playing and teasing around your cunt, never pushing in. You like this, darling? Like getting my mouth and fingers the needy fucking miracle you are, like it when I fucking worship your perfect pussy-

Yes, please-

He shoves two fingers back into you, pumping and scissoring as he flicks his tongue over that bundle of nerves. Tell me how good it feels, Sunshine, talk to me-

So good, you whine, and he chuckles in a way that rolls right into the tight coil near your gut. Fuck, Ben, fuck me, please-

That what you want? He rises back up with one last suck of your clit, leaving you whining and empty and fuck, he’s so handsome and all yours and looking at you like you’re some sort of god-

Benjamin-

His cock slaps on your clit—you don’t even know when he took off his pants, because everything is just a haze of warm and pine and Ben and good—and you fucking squeal.

You want my fucking cock, beautiful? Want me to make you squirt all over my fucking dick, fuck you like you deserve, fuck you until that smart, pretty mouth is fucking drooling and screaming my name-

Please, you hook your legs around his waist, trying to guide him inside you. Want you-

Beg.

I did, you asshole- The gag barely muffles your moan as Ben teases the head of his cock inside you, and you almost fly off the bed. Fuck, please-

More.

Please, Ben, please fuck me, please-

Good girl. He pushes himself inside you without further warning, primal satisfaction glowing over his ribs and abdomen as ghosting, iridescent fire covers your skin. So fucking beautiful, he growls your name between your heads, dragging himself out and slamming back in with a bruising force. Fucking perfect. So tight and wet for me, Sunshine, always so fucking good-

Ben groans as you squeeze around him, but he doesn’t pick up the pace. He just moves your hips a little higher, towering over you as he slowly thrusts in and out of your aching pussy.

Fuck, you’re a goddamn marvel, beautiful, feel like fucking heaven, could die here-

Ben, you whimper around your underwear, somehow finding the strength to reach up to him. Please, faster-

It’s all he needs. Ben’s praise becomes slurred as he fucks into you at an inhuman pace, his skin slapping sinfully against yours and his cock bumping your cervix with every thrust.

Christ, fuck- He falls over you, kissing over your collarbone before sucking on your neck, his movements becoming jerking and uncontrolled. You’re- fuck- Such a good girl, taking my cock so fucking good, fucking made for me, best fucking pussy I’ve ever seen, fucking love you-

You’re so close. Everything in you is alight and desperate for release, and you’re only a split second from begging for it when Ben groans against you, rising up to watch you with a devout, starved focus you can feel pounding in your heart.

You’re perfect. His voice in your head is deep and so fucking hungry, and you whimper. Cum, Sunshine.

Release rips through your body, and Ben rips your underwear out of your mouth, slamming his lips over yours and kissing you into the mattress. You scream down his throat as he fucks you through your orgasm, and when something warm and wet flows out of your pussy, Ben’s cock starts to jerk and spill into you. It’s so warm and blissful and made of Ben’s ardor and pleasure, and it sends you over the edge once more.

Neither of you try to move for a minute, Ben’s brow dropping to yours as you sit in his safe, certain warmth.

“We’ve got dinner.” He mutters, kissing the space between your eyes as he pulls out of you. “Go shower, beautiful.”

“You need to shower as well-“

“I’ll shower after.” Ben shrugs, rubbing on your thigh as he sits on the edge of the mattress. “You’re a bigger mess than me, darling.”

“Then I,” you mumble, and he rolls his eyes, jagged affection flaring in his body. “And I’m only a mess because you’re a tease, Pretty Boy.”

Ben snorts, leaning down to give you one last, soft kiss. “You love it,” he mutters onto your lips. “See you downstairs.”

You don’t move for a while after the door closes behind him, and you don’t know how long passes when Ben sparks in your chest, his words low in your head.

Move, Sunshine. Dinner’s almost ready.

Shut up. You smile at the ceiling, because he’d known you would still just be lying, fucked out, in bed. I hate you.

No you don’t. You fucking love me. 

I’m allowed to feel two things, cunt.

But you don’t, brat. Say it.

You roll your eyes, pushing up on the bed. I love you, you dick.

I love you too. You feel him glow in your body, and you shuffle to find where Ben had tossed your pants. See you in ten.

You nod mindlessly into the air, and pull your own paper out, smiling easily at the name. See you soon, my love.

—————

Ben worked in a fucking office. He did a goddamn commute every weekday, got dropped off at a fucking office, received a paper bag and a kiss on the cheek from his wife, then worked from nine to fucking five.

In a fucking office.

At a fucking desk.

Ben had a fucking desk. With a computer and stupid chair that spun in a circle and a mug that his son had gotten him. It said World’s Greatest Grandpa, and his wife had almost fallen over laughing when Ben showed it to her.

You think that’s fucking funny, Sunshine-

I know it’s funny, Benjamin. She’s kissed him, alive and beautiful in his arms, leaning into his body like she’d never want to be anywhere else. And they were out of Dad mugs, so it was either that or you being the World’s Best Mom.

Ben had rolled his eyes, then kept that mug where he could see it all the time. At his desk.

In his fucking office.

His office with a horrible fucking paint job, and lights that barely worked, and a printer that he had no damn idea how to use. It was why he made Kimiko print out photos of Her and Ryan, and he spent most of the day just fucking staring at them and bothering Her through the brain connection while she worked.

Because Ben was—as She’d call it—being a dramatic fucking man child. He only actually went in once or twice a week, for briefs on new missions and paperwork on old ones. The worst part of the whole fucking thing was that he still couldn’t figure out the fucking computer, and every few weeks he had to sleep at a hotel in New York for a case. In reality he got paid damn well, woke up next to the most beautiful woman in fucking history every morning, and picked his son up from school every afternoon. He got to do work he didn’t hate, and work with people who he—against his fucking will—liked enough not to kill.

Butcher was calling it a Private Military Company. She called it Supe Cleanup. And murder maid, but most supe cleanup.

She was fucking right. In all the jobs Butcher had found for them, exactly two had been non-supe related. And whatever She said was the goddamn truth anyway, because no matter what Butcher claimed, they worked for Her. She got Neuman to give them all their damn cases, was the one who funded a lot of their fucking bullshit, and She dealt with most of the aftermath. Butcher wouldn’t say it because he was a pathetic fucking pussy, and She wouldn’t say it because she was too kind for her own damn good, but everyone else knew.

She was the fucking boss. She called the shots, and looked damn hot doing it. She was the one who killed Homelander—all Butcher had done was shoot a fucking gun, any asscuck with eyes and hands could’ve done that—and the one who built this shit up in a matter of months. She had the ideas for the supe reform programs, and employed all the lawyers who represented the countless victims of Vought and Homelander. Christ, She even got Butcher the damn license to be a private contractor, and convinced that Defense Secretary pussy to hire them the post-Vought efforts. She was the one with a real damn job.

Ben, Butcher, Frenchie, and Kimiko sat around until someone told them there was work to do, and then they damn did it and went home.

She testified before congress. She dealt with all the fucking press idiots, and offered the supes second chances the pussies didn’t deserve, and made sure everyone got their reparations. Ben wasn’t really sure what the fuck the actual mission statement of Her whole thing was—She’d explained it, tits pressed together as she crossed her arms, and he hadn’t remembered all her big, fancy fucking words—but he knew she was doing something good. She ran a real company, not a group of four fucking assholes.

“It’s not a company, Benjamin.” She’d told him, straddling his torso and pouting down at him as his hands kneaded her skin. “It’s a non-profit.”

“What’s the damn difference,” he’d grumbled, and she’d sighed, tapping her fingers on his chest.

“Well, if it’s a company I don’t get any government funding. And as a non-profit we get exempt from certain taxes, and it lends us a certain credibility, which is important because a lot of people aren’t going to trust us. Which I understand, this is a mess, but we also can’t give the media or public anything that might lend to confirmation bias-“

Ben had pulled Her down as she started to spiral into a fucking overdrive, and kissed her until she relaxed in his arms.

Don’t fucking hurt yourself, Sunshine. He’d muttered. You had me with ‘well’.

That was- She’d let out a small gasp as Ben nipped on her upper lip, her voice breathy in their heads. I hadn’t even started talking-

I know. He’d smirked against Her, rolling them over so he could look down at Her beautiful face, how it was open and easy and all his to keep joyful. You have me all the damn time, darling.

Good. She’d smiled up at him, Ben might have drowned in how fucking perfect she was. Because you have me as well.

He didn’t have Her now. Ben had Her everywhere in the world, except in his arms. She was in the flicking, golden light of the office, and the off-key, horrible fucking humming Butcher was doing across the room, and wallpaper of his phone. Both She and Ryan were in pieces all over Ben’s desk as well. Not just in the pictures, but the little paper guide She’d made him to the internet. It told him how shit like URLs and emails and incognito mode worked, and it was in Her handwriting because She loved him enough to help him with this. Ryan had contributed, and drawn a little fucking smile on the corner of one of the pages, and Ben kept it open to that section all the damn time.

Ryan was mostly in that stupid damn mug that Ben kept on his desk every moment, even when he wasn’t using it.

She was mostly in the ring on Ben’s finger. Matching Her’s, the only thing he ever owned that he gave a shit about. He’d had houses and trophies and diamonds and stupid fucking crystal plates that barely damn worked, but they’d all been replaceable. This ring wasn’t. It was made of all the stupid scrap Frenchie had found in the pawn shop, and fireproof because his beautiful, perfect wife was a fucking menace.

And She wasn’t fucking replaceable. The ring proved that Ben had Her—alive in his body and consuming his every damn thought—and he’d never fucking lose Her. He simply fucking refused to, because he’d never, ever be able to find someone he knew how to love half as much. Christ, he’d never had a goddamn chance, because loving Her might be the only thing Ben had ever been a natural at. He’d learned how to do it without effort, like it was something he was born for, and he’d never want to do anything else again. He was the only pussy in the world who was worthy of it, as well.

Ben was worthy of Her, because he fucking understood that She was priceless and holy. That loving Her was a task, but fuck it was worth it. Every nightmare and hollow, glassy stare when she retreated back into pain—the feeling like torture in Ben’s body, making him feel fucking sick until she smiled again—was well worth it to love Her. Worth how he might not be the only one who got to see all Her damn perfection on the surface—beauty and kindness and smart words that came with a smarter fucking brain—but it was Ben alone who got to see everything. The whole picture of this insane, infuriating, perfect woman.

And fuck, She was a masterpiece. And She was all fucking Ben’s. All his to tend to and hold, all his to throw around and fight besides, all his to grin at and care for and really fucking love. All Ben’s to give the whole damn world, and then reduce it all to a moan of his name when he fucked Her. When he buried his head in Her pretty pussy that tasted like a heady, slightly bitter, powerful fucking drug and rubbed Her clit until she squirted all over his fucking face. All Ben’s to trace with worshipping, firm hands, all Ben’s to get fucking high on.

Because sometimes he’d have his hand braced near Her head as he fucked her, and she’d be a needy fucking mess under him, and he’d trace fingers over Her lips and cheekbones before brushing the hair from Her face.

And his ring would catch the light through their blind shades.

And Ben would lose his fucking mind.

He’d hit a pace that was inhuman, and kiss Her everywhere he could fucking reach. Breathing would feel pointless, because he had his wife under him, screaming his name and being the only thing in the whole world that mattered. All of Ben’s existence would narrow to his mouth on her own, or kissing at Her breasts, or sucking on her clit. His hands would be for squeezing and pulling Her skin, or tracing and teasing over her perfect body, or thrusting fingers in and out of Her pussy. Shoving them deep enough his ring would come out covered in her arousal, crooking them until she was pleading and whining under him, and tasting Her when he pulled them out, leaving Her ruined and whimpering on the edge.

And he’d split Her open on his cock, make Her say his name like a prayer, and fuck Her until she squirted all over his cock and he could pump her full of his cum-

Stop distracting me, Benjamin.

I didn’t fucking do anything. He drawled Her name between their heads, smirking into the air. You’re the one who’s distracting me, brat.

Shut up, you’re probably at your desk watching baseball. And you know what you fucking did.

Ben rolled his eyes, turning off his monitor, and with it the MBA game. I don’t have a damn clue what you’re talking about, Sunshine, you spoke first-

Because you started getting horny and loud in my brain, and I’m at work. I can’t start masturbating while I talk to MM and Hughie, they’ll never look me in the eyes again.

Tell them to fucking leave.

I’m not kicking them out of our meeting so we can have mind sex.

You’ve kicked them out so we can have real sex-

Ben could almost see the wrinkle of Her nose. That’s not the same, you looked like you were going to kill them if they didn’t leave-

I hadn’t seen you in a fucking week-

Three days, don’t be dramatic-

And, Ben ignored Her, pushing on. Those pussies chose to leave, it’s not like I fucking threatened them-

They could see your boner, my love. Her voice was bored and amused in his head, and Ben wanted to fucking eat the sound and turn it into a moan. And you almost broke down my door demanding we go on a date, and I quote, ‘right fucking now’-

We should go on a date-

Ben-

Tonight, darling, keep your damn head on. You can stash Ryan at Butcher’s, the asshole looks fucking lonely anyway-

Don’t call it stashing, Ben-

Fine, drop him there after you pick him up-

I was actually, um, I was going to- She paused, and Ben could almost hear her nervous swallow. I wanted to ask, and you can say no, but I-

Words, darling-

Could you pick up Ryan today? I have to go do something.

Ben frowned into the air. Something.

Her voice hummed in his head. Yeah.

Are you going to fucking tell me-

No. It’s a surprise.

It’s a fucking secret-

Ben. Her voice was soft and gentle in his head, and that alone made his frown drop to what She called a pout.

What.

If it was a secret, I would’ve told you I’m working late, or going out with Annie and Kimiko, or something else stupid. But it’s not a secret, I just can’t tell you right now.

She was right. She was always fucking right, and Ben had an idea what this was, but he still missed Her. Wanted to touch her and walk with her and make Her bury her face in his arm when he teased her. You’re going to fucking tell me.

I promise that, by the end of the month, I will have told you. And we can do that date on Christmas eve. Whatever you want.

You don’t have to damn bribe me-

I know. She sighed in the silence, and something in Ben ached as Her own guilt clouded over his eyes. But I want to go on a date with you. And I really want to tell you what I’m doing-

You’re getting a gift. Ben said between their heads, and there was a brief silence before She responded.

Shut up.

Ben drawled Her name, grinning at the air. You’re going to get your gift for the stupid fucking Santa thing-

No, I need to go to the mall for that. Actually, She paused, and Ben felt a smile tug at his lips as he pictured Her pretty face starting into the air, her fingers tapping her desk or leg. Could you take Ryan to the mall? Help him get his gifts? And maybe new pants, I think he grew again-

You have to go with us to get the tree.

If Her nose hadn’t been wrinkling before, it sure as fuck was now. I thought I didn’t have to bribe you, Pretty Boy-

It’s not a fucking bribe, Sunshine, it’s a deal. You go do your secret shit-

My surprise shit-

And I’ll get Ryan and do the fucking shopping. But we’re doing that date, and you’re coming with us for the tree.

Okay. Deal. Ben?

He grunted Her name between their heads, and something warm spread over his whole body at the sound of Her sweet, sharp, infinitely adoring voice.

I love you. She whispered. Thank you-

Don’t. Ben muttered. I love you too. But if you’re not home by midnight I’m finding you and carrying you back.

Her giggle was soft in the silence of the office, and Ben didn’t bother to fight the wide grin on his face. Promise?

Brat.

Cunt.

She faded back into a quiet, perfect presence over Ben’s skull, and now he actually had to damn work. But then he’d get to pick Ryan up—Ben didn’t fucking know how shopping worked without Her there, and he didn’t think Ryan would either, but they’d figure it out—and kiss Her dumb when she got back from whatever the hell she was doing.

She’d tell him. Ben didn’t have a single fucking doubt She’d tell him, because they didn’t keep secrets from each other. Ben could feel Her all the fucking time, and knew exactly where she was across the city, and he didn’t have a single damn desire to keep anything from Her at all. He didn’t see the point in it. That’s what fucking marriage was for, Ben giving his everything to Her, while She gave every part of her right back.

It’s why he was so fucking ready for the holidays. Ben hadn’t had a real Christmas since he was fucking six or seven. They’d either been spent at boarding schools or in military camps through his youth, or at drug-fueled parties through his career. Or just fucking alone. When everyone had people to go to that they cared about more, and Ben didn’t have a single fucking person who saw him as their person.

He’d told Her that, and something soft and pained had flashed over her beautiful face as she held his face between his hands. He’d expected an age joke—So in a hundred fucking years, Pretty Boy?—but all he’d gotten was a gentle, slow kiss and loving words.

You’re my person, Benjamin. She’d mumbled against his lips. And as long as you’re stuck with that, we can do whatever you want for Christmas.

I’m not fucking stuck with it, he’d grumbled, hauling Her up his chest. I love you, Sunshine, you’re not getting rid of me until I fucking die.

She’d hummed, smiling at him. So in like a year, old man?

Ben had rolled his eyes—there She was—and kissed Her until she was squirming above him, then fucked up into her as she screamed his name.

And he didn’t really fucking want much else. There were to many damn traditions for this shit. Activities he didn’t understand, and mistletoe he didn’t fucking care about—he didn’t need a damn plant to tell him when to kiss his wife—and cards that were fucking pointless because they had six friends who they saw every damn day.

He wanted to do some of it though. Ben wanted to eat all the food, and watch whatever movie She told him to—he didn’t understand how a movie about the Grinch could be the best Christmas movie ever fucking made, Benjamin, but he’d watch most anything if She sat with him —and he really wanted to do the tree. To get a big one that made the whole house smell good, and he could cover it in stupid lights.

It should be rainbow lights. She’d fucking love rainbow lights, so Ben should get rainbow lights.

Ben should get them a lot of fucking things. He should get Ryan whatever the hell the kid needed to be a kid, and Ben hadn’t been a kid since the fucking 20s, so he’d have to ask Her and see what that shit looked like now. Probably sports gear, and a real phone that wasn’t a damn brick, and a trip to some museums because Ryan was like Her, and they both liked smart shit, and museums were full of smart shit.

She should get a trip to a museum as well, just Her and Ben. She should get twenty more houses, and a massive library that was just for Her to be a genius in, and as many breaks and vacations as Ben could drag her on. Back to their villa in Rome every summer, and up to Boston to visit Her sister, and every other beautiful place in the world.

She should get the fucking world. Ben should be able to drag the sun down from the sky for Her to hold, and break of a piece of the moon for Her to touch.

But this—a normal, easy holiday where Ben could buy find Her something as perfect as she was for a gift—was going to be damn good place to start.

End Note: It was bold of any of them to think Ben would be able to keep any sort of secret from Her.

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[wosoimagines]

Surprises

part 1 of rivals

fifteen year old Jo Knox gets her first call up to the USWNT camp and she makes her first professional rival.

3,744 words

|next part

I sighed as I pushed open the door to the hotel. I was vastly aware that it was highly unusual for someone to be in my position. Especially walking onto a team of such a high calibration.

After all, how many fifteen-year-olds could say that they got the chance to play with the United States Women’s National Team?

Mia Hamm. That’s it. The entire list.

Well.

Before today, at least.

Or, I guess I would actually have to take the field before I could actually be classified as playing with the national team. But just being at a camp with the national team was huge. And to be doing it toward the end of the year before the World Cup?

I wasn’t sure what it meant just yet. It could mean that the coaching staff really liked what they saw in me. Or this could be a test to see how I could handle the pressure. 

And I wasn’t sure which one I would rather it be.

I would have to tackle this just like I did at home. Stay out of everyone else’s way and get my job done. That’s what mattered. If I could prove that I was good at what I could do, who knows? Maybe I would actually have a future with the national team one day.

“Jo! Over here!”

I lifted my head to find a woman smiling at me as she waved. I sent her a small smile of my own as I moved over closer to her.

“Hi,” I softly said once I got close enough.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Jo,” the woman said as she held her hand out to me. I reached out to shake it. “I’m Dawn Scott. I’m the High Performance Coach for the team.”

“I’d introduce myself, but you already know who I am.”

Dawn let out a small laugh as her smile grew a bit wider.

“Come on, they haven’t really gotten far into the meeting yet,” Dawn said as she turned around. I dragged my bag behind me as I started to follow Dawn. “Jill’s excited to have you here. She wouldn’t stop boasting about you to Tom. Between us? Jill was very frustrated that Tom wouldn’t call you up.”

“And now she’s the coach?”

“Interim while the USSF tries to hire a new head coach. She was excited about getting the opportunity to add you to the roster though,” Dawn admitted. I was a bit surprised by that. I knew that I had been watched while I was with the youth teams, but I didn’t realize I had been watched specifically by the person they would trust to lead the team at this time. “It helps that Jill doesn’t mind risking chemistry to try out new and upcoming talent. Let’s face it, you’ve got a lot of talent already and you’re still nowhere near your full potential.”

“Yeah, well, outside of school, soccer is pretty much all I focus on. I mean, we all pretty much have our own thing in my family, mine just happens to be soccer,” I shrugged as we slowed down outside of one of the conference rooms. “With a family like mine? You have to do something to make sure that you stand out.”

“You can leave your bags just inside by the door if you’d like. I’ll have to go and sit on the side with the coaches, but you’ll have to sit with the players,” Dawn explained. That made sense. It would be even weirder if a teenager was sitting with the coaches rather than the other players. “There’s usually a seat in the back that’s open.”

“Thanks.”

Dawn nodded as she gave me one last smile as we both ducked into the room. I wasn’t too surprised when heads turned to stare at me as I left my bags by the door before I sat in the back left row. I tried not to let their stares bother me as I turned my attention to Jill. Jill wasn’t going through anything other than what I expected, just how we were going to have a tight schedule and what she was hoping to get out of this camp.

“One last thing before you can go! I have called up Jo Knox,” Jill announced as she peered over the others to look at me. I nodded as I avoided everyone else’s eyes. “I know some of you might not want to get along with a fifteen-year-old, but please make her feel welcomed. I’ve watched her on the field, and I think she’s got something special. You’re all free to leave. Jo, if you’ll stay behind.”

I waited in my seat as everyone else moved to leave. It wasn’t until most everyone else had left the room that I finally stood up. I moved to the front of the room as Jill was talking to one of the assistant coaches, but she turned her attention to me when I got closer.

“Hi, Jo,” Jill greeted me. I only gave a small nod in acknowledgement. “Look, I don’t want you to focus on being the absolute best right now. I just want you to focus on getting settled in and getting used to the team. Think you can handle that?”

“Yeah, of course, Coach.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Jill said. She held a keycard out to me. I took it before sliding it into my pocket. “You’ll be rooming with Becky Sauerbrunn. Becky will help make sure that you study for school. I know that you have final exams coming up.”

“Yeah, I’ll make sure to study,” I nodded. It was one of the only reasons my parents had let me come to camp anyways. “My parents gave me certain grades to get on my finals anyways if I want to come back to camp during the school year.”

“Just don’t stress out too much between soccer and school. Don’t need your play suffering because you’re too stressed out,” Dawn said from the side. 

I looked over at her before I nodded. I knew that she was right. I really didn’t need to stress too much about everything. 

“You want to know a secret?” Jill asked. I looked back over at her before slightly nodding. “I already plan on calling you back up for the next camp, okay? I know that this is going to be a stressful camp for you with it being so close to the end of the school year and you joining the senior squad. I just wanted to get you into camp so you would have an idea of what it’s like. The only thing that will keep me from calling you up for the next camp is you getting injured. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“All right, all of your gear is in your room. Ryan’s got everything up there for you. We’ll get you into media here in the next couple of days,” Jil said as she looked over at the rest of the staff. I guess they weren’t all coaches after all. “If your gear breaks or wears down, including shin pads or boots, you tell Ryan and he’ll help you get new gear within the same day.”

My eyes landed on the man who sent me a small smile and wave. I guess that was Ryan.

“Okay, cool.”

“I think that’s about all that I have for you. I’ll let you get settled in,” Jill said as she sent me a small smile. “I’m sure the girls are dying to get to know you. They’re probably waiting on the floor to bombard you with questions as we speak.”

I nodded at that before I gathered my bags and headed to the elevators. I didn’t have to wait long for an elevator. Once I was inside the elevator and by myself, I sighed as I watched the numbers climb higher. I wasn’t entirely sure what was waiting for me at the top though. But I definitely didn’t expect for a majority of the players to be standing in front of the elevator doors staring back at me. 

I shuffled off of the elevator but I didn’t try to push past any of the older players.

“Hi,” I said as I rubbed the back of my neck and looked down at my shoes. I really needed to get new shoes. And ones that weren’t hand-me-downs from Deliliah.

“God, you really are just a kid.”

I looked up to meet Megan Rapinoe’s eyes as she finished the statement. I only shrugged my shoulders. It wasn’t like I could change the fact that I was fifteen.

“So, are you any good, kid?”

I could only stare back at Abby. I mean it was Abby Wambach. I slowly nodded as I realized everyone was still looking at me for an answer.

“Well, I mean, I think I am at least,” I said as I rocked back and forth on my heels. “I’ve been playing with people older than me for all of my life.”

“Oh, yeah? How much older?”

“Well, I started playing with my club's U16 team when I was 12 and then I moved up to the U18 team when I was 14.”

“So you’re a prodigy?” Lauren Cheney asked. I only shrugged my shoulders at that.

I wasn’t sure that I would call myself a prodigy. I put in a lot of work into my game, but it did feel like soccer was in my blood. Like I was meant to play this game.

“As if some pipsqueak could get a ball past any goalie worth being on a national team.”

A lot of the players in front of me turned to the voice that came from the back of the group. A few even glared at the person. I could only look anywhere else but at the woman who had made the remark as she narrowed her eyes at me.

“I don’t think you could even get one ball past me.”

A few of the older players started to scold the woman while the others muttered amongst themselves.

“I think the coaches would beg to differ.”

All of the older players went silent as all of their eyes turned back to me. I still refused to make eye contact with any of them or even look at the woman as she pushed her way to the front of the group.

“The opinions of our coaches doesn’t matter if the facts state otherwise.”

“What facts? That I’m fifteen? I’m smaller than you?” I asked as I finally met Hope Solo’s eyes. “Everyone underestimates me. Everyone. And I thrive with the underestimations. And tomorrow, during practice, you’ll underestimate me and you don’t even know what I can do. You have no idea if you should or not. But you’ll do it anyway because of how small I am. Because of my age. And when I get that ball, every single touch will matter. And nothing you do will stop that.”

The two of us only stared at each other as Hope towered over me.

“Hey, break it up!” A new voice called out. Most of the women moved to the side, but Hope didn’t budge and I refused to break eye contact with her now. “I said break it up.”

Hope didn’t move. Not until Christie Rampone put her hand on the keeper’s arm.

“Just don’t be surprised when I crush your dreams tomorrow, kid.”

I watched Hope’s back as she turned and walked away from the group.

“What’s going on here?” Christie asked. I only moved my gaze down to my feet again. I didn’t want the eyes on me. Not like this. Christie’s gaze moved from me to the rest of the team when she realized that I wasn’t going to say anything. “I thought I told you all to back off the kid for now.”

There it was again.

Kid.

That’s all I was to everyone. Just some kid who had no idea what she was getting into.

“The kid’s got balls.”

I didn’t care who had said it as I pushed my way through them all so I could get to my room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hope wants you to take penalties against her,” Jill said as she looked down at me. I had my hands on my knees as I was trying to get my breath back after I had ran the length of the field to get the ball back before taking it back toward my team’s goal myself before I had gotten the assist. “You okay to do that?”

I stayed quiet as I nodded my head. I knew what she was doing. Hope either figured that I would chicken out and refuse to take the penalties or she would be able to stop them.

“No one can stop me,” I said as I stood up to look Jill in the eye. “That’s why you called me up, isn’t it? You saw that no one had an answer on how to stop me at the youth levels.”

“I called you up because you have potential.”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” I said as I looked over where most of the team was. “You can tell them that your decision was based on potential, but don’t lie to me . And now you’re curious to know if Solo can stop me.”

“I’ll admit, I’ve been a bit confused as to why Hope wants to try to humiliate you,” Jill said as she looked over at Hope. “But I did call you up because of the potential. I mean, if you’re already able to play the way you currently are and you’re only fifteen, what can you do in a year after playing with the best women in the world?”

“I want to do the penalties. I want to show them I’m not just some kid who can’t hold their own.”

Jill turned her gaze back to me as she stared at me for a moment. I knew that practice was about to wrap up so it made sense for us to do this now anyways.

“Gather up!” Jill yelled, causing most of the players to turn to where we were standing. “Just know that Hope added an extra stipulation to it.”

Jill tossed me a water bottle as everyone on the team gathered around Jill.

“We’re going to have a penalty shoot out! five shots just like an in game shoot out,” Jill announced. A few of the players groaned. I wasn’t sure if the team had to do something like this a lot or not. “Today’s shoot out will be a little different, though. Solo in goal for all five while Knox shoots them all. Majority wins, just like in a game. If Hope saves 3, outfielders run extra laps. If Jo makes 3, goalies run extra laps.”

I didn’t miss the way some of the older players were muttering to each other about the rules. This was quite unfortunate. If I somehow wasn’t able to make 3 of my penalties then I was really screwed because I knew that the older players would absolutely hate that I hadn’t been able to back up my talk from the previous night and be the reason they had to run extra.

“Line up!”

Everyone else moved to the midfield as Hope headed for the goal. I trailed behind Jill who picked up a ball.

“You really want everyone to hate me, don’t you?”

“I really want to see if you’re as good as you think,” Jill said. She glanced over her shoulder at me. “Score 3 of them and none of them will hate you.”

I sighed as Jill handed me the ball before she moved to talk to Hope. I stopped at the penalty spot before I placed the ball how I wanted it. I eventually moved back when I was sure that I had the ball like I wanted it.

I waited for Jill to finish talking to Hope before she moved to the side. I tried to ignore all of the eyes on my back. It was just a penalty, I didn’t even have to get past any defenders. I waited until Jill blew the whistle.

Then I waited one more moment as I finally picked my spot.

I rushed toward the ball before I put as much power as I could behind the shot. The ball sailed perfectly into the top left corner as Hope had just missed the ball by less than a fingertip. I didn’t miss the cheers behind me. I grinned even as Hope glared at me.

I stopped the ball with my foot when Jill kicked it toward me before I picked the ball up. I placed the ball back like I wanted it before moving back behind the ball. I waited until I heard the whistle. This time I didn’t give Hope any extra seconds as I was rushing forward as soon as I heard the whistle. The ball hit the top left corner again.

This was going well for me. I already had two of the three goals that I needed. And Hope hadn’t been able to stop even one. I took a deep breath as I placed the ball on the penalty spot for a third time.

I gave myself an extra moment again this time, but this one lasted even longer than the first time I had taken an extra moment. I just needed one more in the back of the net. This time the ball fired off of the sidebar before knocking into the goal.

The posts were still rattling as Hope threw a glare at me, but I only smirked and shrugged my shoulders. I didn’t actually care about myself having to run, but I had wanted to prove that I knew what I was doing. And it definitely helped that I had gotten to show off against the Hope Solo in the process.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That was an amazing game,” Julie Foudy said. I grinned at the praise that I was receiving through the headset. “Tell me about it from your perspective.”

“You know, I just wanted to go in and show everyone what I could do,” I shrugged. It was true. I had really just wanted to show what I could do at this level. “I didn’t exactly expect to get a goal coming in so late if I’m honest. But I’m happy to have been able to help the team get the win.”

“And your first cap and goal comes against Canada. That’s got to be an amazing feeling,” Julie said as I nodded. It really had been amazing. “Knowing what our rivalry with Canada is like and having played them before. It’s a great game to get your first cap.”

“Yeah, it was definitely incredible. I don’t think I could have asked for a much better opponent to get my first cap against,” I said. I glanced over my shoulder where I watched as the rest of my team was headed to the locker rooms. “It’s definitely different getting to play in the game rather than just watching it on TV. And if today was any indication of how hard the games against Canada always are, I’m looking forward to future games.”

“Well, do you have any plans when you get home? I mean, you just got your first cap and it’s time for summer break.”

“Uh, not so much as fun plans right off the bat. I have finals to take when I get home,” I admitted. I rubbed the back of my neck at the reminder. “After that, I don’t have many plans other than soccer. Might take a trip to the lake sometime over the summer if I’m lucky. Just have to see what my summer schedule turns out to look like.”

“All right, well, I’ll let you get to the locker room so you can celebrate your first cap with the team.”

I gave the camera one last wave before I pulled the headset off and handed it off to one of the crew members before I headed down the tunnel. I was a bit surprised when I stepped into the locker room only to have water dumped onto my head. I couldn’t help the grin that broke out on my face though as a lot of the older players cheered around me.

“Okay! Okay! Settle down!” Christie called out. She had a ball in her hands as everyone settled down. “We have the game ball for Jo to celebrate her first cap and her first goal which gave us the win over Canada!”

Everyone cheered again as Christie handed me the ball.

“Go ahead and say a few words, kid.”

Everyone went quiet again as I rolled the ball in my hands. I wasn’t even sure what to say.

“I’ve been watching this team ever since I could remember. Some of you, I’ve been looking up to ever since I was a really little kid. Some of you, I’ve only been looking up to you in the most recent years. But it has always been a dream to get to play with this team and it’s been amazing to get my first cap with such an amazing group of women,” I said as I looked around the locker room. “I really can’t wait to get more training time at camps and work with all of you even more. And I guess the last thing is, I’d like you all to sign the ball so I can always remember who was here for my first cap.”

It didn’t take long until I had the ball back in my hands after the team had passed it around to sign it. Now I was standing in probably the only person in the locker room who still had a bone to pick with me. I held the ball out to Hope as she stared at it.

“Come on,” I said as I only pushed the ball further toward her. “It’d be a shame if I didn’t get the whole team to sign the ball. And last time I checked, you’re part of the team.”

Hope rolled her eyes but she took the ball from me before signing it. I grinned once Hope gave me the ball back.

“I still don’t like you that much.”

“You don’t have to. You just have to be my teammate.”

[tarotchariotpickyourcard]

PAC: What makes you a good partner

This is for both singles and those in a relationship. This is for encouragement if you are still looking, to remind you of how wonderful you are in a connection. It’s plain just to make you feel good about yourself if you’re in a partnership.

Please pick between groups 1, 2 or 3. Group 1 is the woo-hoo badge, group 2 is the wing, group 3 is the be mine tag.

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GROUP 1

4 of wands (joy and stability) - Third eye chakra - communication - get centered - love

I got a feeling of insecurity and it made me wonder if that’s how you’ve been feeling lately. I don’t know if it’s about your abilities in general or directly in a relationship. 

So, I’m talking to myself here like a lunatic right, and I’m going through what the psychic tarot could be saying so far. And I just can’t help but get a state of mind situation here. And I talk and talk, wondering if this is you, could it be your love interest, whatever. Suddenly I realize - I’m overthinking. Is this what you/they do? Overthink this stuff?

I really can’t help but think this is the beginning of a status check. Because logically i would look at it in a straightforward way but my intuition tells me the reversed version of what first impressions are: The feeling of being insecure, trying to tell the future, wanting things to be a certain way, not trusting. I wouldn’t be surprised if a few in this group read a lot of that future spouse or soulmate stuff. For those in a relationship right now, you could be worrying if it will work out, how long will you stay together, will this last etc.

I honestly don’t know if this is how you used to be, this is what you’re overcoming, maybe this is what your partner deals with, I don’t know.

I feel like when you mellow out and feel calmer, it’s like there’s a box that unlocks. Maybe when you’re feeling anxious, you aren’t present with a person or able to show your more fun or loving side as much as you would like.

Your affirmation cards are great. It gives me the impression that you’re a straightforward person who doesn’t mince their words. If you like someone, you’re going to tell them. If you wonder about their feelings, you’ll ask them. If you want a committed partnership, you’ll see if they agree instead of wordlessly hoping.

I’m going to be absolutely honest, and it seems contradictory to me, but i honestly got the insecurity stuff before, but it’s like… At your best, you can be the most centered, calm and peaceful person. Your partner could be stressed and worrying or even getting argumentative and you wouldn’t react the same. You would be able to hold it together and tackle things calmly.

I have finally come to the conclusion that this is you, unlocked lol.

Group 1, I don’t know, it seems like you’re having a hard time. I’m getting distracted, the feeling of wanting to give up. This is the time when you most need peace. You don’t need to give up, you need time. You need time for yourself, and to really be so soft with yourself. Whether you’re in a relationship or not, you need you right now. You need to spend time with you. You need to hear the birds sing. You need to feel the grass at your fingertips. You need to close your eyes and know there’s something there for you, just for you. That the birds chirping right now that moment are being heard by only you in the way it’s happening, with the clouds that are showing right now. The way the light hit your window and made that little rainbow. That the funny quirky thing the person across the street was seen only by you. Isn’t it weird? It’s like some moments are made just for you. 

And that’s why there will be that relationship made just for you. This is confirmation that there will be that partnership. If you’re facing issues in one right now, get back to you for now and let what will be, be. If you’re seeing someone and wondering, let them come to you.

In a safe, happy partnership you will feel seen. You will be peaceful. You will feel secure and that feeling will spread to your partner. You are open and honest. You are loving, even clumsily. 

Things go wrong but you will know that everything is still right. Things will be alright. You no longer need the 8 ball to tell whether or not, because you will know. When you feel secure, you are your own fortune teller. You will re-align, and you wil learn to have peace and move on from disagreements. You will know how to still be loving, even when irritated.  You know what to prioritize as a partnership, what practical things you should deal with together. What matters most. You will have faith in yourself and extend it to your partner. I see you growing old with someone, mainly because you will let yourself. That security is the foundation for a long and happy relationship if you wish for it.

Love says:

“Love is a many splendored thing. Today I notice and appreciate 3 of those splendors. Like the fact puppies make me feel like a parent. Or the surge of self congratulation when I sink a three point trash basket shot on the first try. Or how about the chills I get while singing along to ___”

Get centered:

“When it gets to be too much, whatever it is, I close my eyes and return to my center.”

Communication: 

“Wonder how that other person is feeling? Ask ‘em. Wish they knew how you were feeling? Tell ‘em. You’ve just been drafted into the communication army, where there is a strict do ask/do tell policy. Speak with kindness and gentleness, and reach an understanding.”

I hope this made sense for you. Remember, it will all be ok in the end.

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GROUP 2

Support - manifest - believe & succeed

You are a cheerleader for sure. Extremely supportive of your partner's endeavors. This group seems to choose people with ambition or dreams. You lot probably are more into manifestation or law of attraction than other groups. It’s likely you’ve had your successful manifestations and know that it works, so in theory, it should for your love interest too.

You honestly seem great as a team. A very happy and willing participant. If your partner needs something suddenly sorted, whether it’s a chore, or administration work for their business, you will drop what you’re doing (less important stuff ofc) and help them.

Support:

“I look at the vast network of support in my life, and I’m reminded of what a superpower it gives me. At any moment, I can call an army of top-notch people who want the best for me, which means I’m basically invincible. Take that, loneliness! Run for the hills, boredom!”

Very good cheerful energy, I see you really trying to keep things upbeat and positive for their sake. Just in case though, do remember it’s not all your job, and they are the captains of their own ship, ok? You might get a little sidetracked because you get so excited for them. I’m getting the idea that you would never ever get jealous of a partner (it can happen sometimes. Not unusual, not bad), and you always wish the best for them. 

You really open up the other person's eyes to possibilities. You make them think about things they might not have been brave enough to before. It’s like through your partnership, you wake them up to possibilities. Maybe you even wake them up to spirituality/manifestation. You make the other person feel secure. Like they have something to come back to after they go out on a limb and try something. 

They will know that if they fail, they could hate themselves or feel bad, but you would never look down on them. You would just send them right back out lol. Try again, then. Is what I get. There’s so much confidence and faith in this other person. You know, you just know that they can make it. Where they see nothing, you see something. You know more is possible for them and yourself. You make, or will make your partner feel like they are something. When they always thought they were just ordinary or boring, when their self esteem isn’t where it should be.

Careful of carrying a relationship for the both of you though, you want someone who is able to gain the momentum and motivation that is like yours. If they don’t have the energy, it’s just not going to happen the way you see it for them. It’s got to be by them, for them, ultimately. If you are single, be careful of investing into a person who may agree with your goals/vision/excitement only to talk about it, and not follow through. You could talk someone up and big them up till the cows come home, but they will have to prove themselves to themselves. Talk only goes so far.

You might also bring extra connections or support to your partner. This could be your family being lovely and bringing them in, being completely inviting and helpful. This could be they gain a place in your friend group too. They could get networking opportunities because of who you know, that kind of thing. 

You bring a lot to the table, but remember, everyone is their own captain so you come first. You have tremendous energy, belief and determination to make things happen and work. You need to make sure it’s matched.

Hoping for wonderful things in your love life.

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GROUP 3

Release - Master (rev) - Inspiration.

You have a lovely combination of cards, group 3. I really see you’ve done the work on yourself.

Firstly, if there is anyone here that has escaped a negative or abusive situation, you are seen as an inspiration and you have become such a wise person that people look up to.

You really try to take care of yourself, and I like that. It’s often said that it’s attractive in love to put yourself first and that’s what I think your partner does/will like about you. There’s no desperation to make the person like you or want you. That kind of thing makes certain people chase.

Release here is just giving me the feeling of being chill, of not needing to prove anything. You know it’s important to be vulnerable at the right times in love. There might have been past issues regarding control, vulnerability and openness. I feel that you’ve really moved past some lessons in romance regarding those things. You could have listened to someone or read something that made you realize what was happening, or why you seemed to be having a pattern, or attracting certain people.

I see that you have intuition and you allow yourself to listen to it now. It will become invaluable for yourself and also your partner. You could get gut feelings and tell them, whether this is about their work situation or whether you feel something bad about a journey.

I'm seeing that you’ve had to let go of a lot so you’re not attached to outcomes. That same surrendering energy is helpful in partnerships because you’re not invested whether your partner will or won’t do something. You don’t want to control them, or try and manipulate them to do a chore, or to decide on an option you think is the right one.

You let love be free, and that’s beautiful. There’s a sweet, open, surrendering love that is there for the sake of being love. The person could go off randomly and you would still hold appreciation. When you are in a partnership, you look like you bare it all and choose to trust. I feel like you’ve been really hurt but you’ve come back and decided you want to love anyway.

If you’re not there yet, you will be. You have too much love in your heart to give. Just because someone was incapable of love doesn’t mean you are or should be.

You really inspire your partner, there could be a muse here. You really give the other person room to be themselves and voice their ideas. You hold that space for them and let them express themselves. There’s a lot of soft, quiet loving energy here. You don’t love loudly, it’s quiet and constant. Your love is a gift in itself, it’s how you are the most wonderful partner. Just by loving the way you do.

I think when you’re with the right person, you make them feel very safe to be themselves. I’m seeing that you would be a good parent, a good person to have/adopt/foster a child with. You would be very good at guiding and encouraging them. You are a very considerate person, and you don’t go around tooting your own horn. I get a modest feeling here. 

You help and are supportive in ways that aren’t super visible, someone would have to be really watching to notice what you do. There might be a little mischievous side, or a sarcastic sense of humour that can go under the radar. Your partner will appreciate that very much. Such lowkey energy but so strong and constant, dependable.

I feel like you should be very proud of yourself. I think you’ve overcome a lot and there’s a lot of humility here, but don’t downplay yourself. I feel like your partner does/will tell you to express yourself, or make a move on some kind of idea you have. I get the idea you’re used to someone else being the main character, or someone else being a focus or supported. Your partner will say it’s your turn.

That’s what I’m seeing group 3, have a good one.

[the-laughing-lunatic]

Scout x reader who's never been to a baseball game before (ROMANTIC)

(I was bored and wrote this, I actually have been to multiple baseball games before but my ass still doesn't know anything about it. Reader's gender neutral as always. Trying to get better at writing oneshots so have this ig :/ Word count: ~1400)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

It was strangely calm that day, it was one of the occasional days off that the mercs had. You sat on your bed, reading through some random magazine you’d picked up here or there when your boyfriend Scout barged in. “Hey doll!”

You continued flicking through the pages of the magazine, not flinching. You’d gotten used to this after a year of knowing him and two months of dating him. The door might as well not have existed at this point. “Yes?”

“Wanna go to the game today? With me?” he said, flashing you two tickets in his hand.

“What kinda game?” You looked up.

“Only the best game to be created,” he said with a smirk. “Baseball.”

You shrugged. “Sure, I don’t have anything else to do—” you barely got out before you were tackled with a hug by Scout, your magazine falling somewhere on the bed as you were wrapped up in his arms. “Jesus, you’re that excited, huh?”

He only chuckled and kissed your cheek. “Hell yeah I am! I get to have my two favorite things, baseball and you, dollface.” 

You roll your eyes and give him a kiss on the cheek back, relaxing into his arms for a moment as you soak up his warmth. “...wait, am I below baseball?”

“Uhh…”

ੈ♡˳

“Bye Engie! Thanks for the ride!” Scout yelled out as Engineer drove away in his pickup truck, leaving the two of you to the sea of people waiting to get in despite the insufferable heat. 

“Geez, are there normally this many people at these things?” you said as you held onto Scout’s hand to not lose him as you walked to the back of the line for the ticket booth.

“What, ya never been to a baseball game before?” he said with a laugh. It was a rhetorical question from his perspective, but not for you. 

“No.” Scout’s jaw dropped. 

“W- whaddya mean you’ve never been to a baseball game before, w- why? How?” In his mind, baseball was the most amazing game in the world, and it was simply a crime that the most amazing person in the world had never seen it.

You shrugged. “Just never did.” Scout was full of feelings about this. On one hand, you were his dollface and it hurt that you had been deprived of one of the greatest pleasures life could offer. On the other hand, he got to be the guy to introduce you to your first baseball game, which had the same significance as a first kiss. In his mind at least.

“D’ya at least know the game? Like, how it works?”

You thought for a moment before saying: “Um, you hit balls and run a lot?”

Hoo boy. Scout sighed. “I mean- you ain’t wrong but ya ain’t right. Listen doll, so there’s nine guys on each team, right? And one of the guys is the pitcher for the inning. The pitcher, he’s the fella who . . .”

ੈ♡˳

“. . . and then the outfielders, once you have those fellas you can get somethin’ called a line drive where it hits right to ‘em without touchin’ the ground–”  

It had twenty non-stop minutes of Scout explaining the entire concept of baseball to you, and if you heard another way a ball can be thrown you were gonna snap. You took his face in your hands and kissed him before another move could be explained. 

His ears flushed red and he froze for a moment after you pulled away. “Uh, what was that all about, doll?”

“I love you but if I hear another word about baseball I’m gonna lose it. Can I just watch the game with you and enjoy it that way?” you ask. 

“Fine, fine—” he cuts himself off as the two of you are both hit with the realization. You said I love you. Shit, shit, shit shit shitshitshit!

Before you can stammer out a sorry or any other form of explanation, the woman in the ticket booth says “Next!” and you’re left to panic while Scout gives her the tickets.

We’ve only been dating for a few months, is that weird to say? It must be, he didn’t say it back. Maybe he didn’t hear me? No, he definitely heard me. Oh god, I fucked this up bad, fuck—

“Hey dollface, she said we can go in, c’mon,” he said with a smile, squeezing your hand and leading you into the stadium. You two found a spot in the bleachers, luckily under the shade of an awning. You nervously bounced your leg as you prepared for the game to begin.

He’s not treating me any differently, maybe he’s just gonna ignore that I said that. Please, god just ignore it. 

“Geez, real anxious to see the game, huh doll?” he said to you with a smile.

“Yeah, yeah.” Maybe this would all be okay, another normal date. Just ignore that gross feeling in your gut and it’ll be fine.

ੈ♡˳

It was not all fine. Everytime the word ‘love’ came out of Scout’s mouth you couldn’t help but feel a growing annoyance. And he said it a lot.

“Man, I love that guy!”

“ —fuckin’ love this hot dog—”

“Love the view, right doll?”

It’s like he was rubbing it in. The gross feeling, the loud noise and the tight packed crowd all teamed up to give you a headache. Great. You distracted yourself from the feeling by leaning into him and eating your popcorn, desperately trying to understand the game in front of you. Maybe you should have listened a little more to your boyfriend’s explanation. “You cold dollface?

“Nah, just tired and have a little headache, ‘m fine,” you said as you popped another piece of popcorn in your mouth.

He wrapped his arm around you so you could have more support. “We, uh, don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, y’know. It’s the bottom of the fifth if you wanna get out of here.”

“No, no, it‘s fine, gotta stay for my first baseball game. Besides, isn’t that rude to just leave?”

“Naw, it’s fine. ‘S pretty normal not to stay the whole nine innings for your first game. ‘Sides, I don’t want you to feel like shit. We could go to a game some other time, how’s that sound?”

You smiled softly. “Sounds perfect.”

“Good, now c’mon,” he said as he picked you up in his arms to carry you out of the stadium.

“Jeremy, my head is the thing that hurts, not my legs. I can still walk, you doofus,” you laughed. He kissed your forehead. 

“Whatever you say, sweetcake, but I’m still carryin’ ya.”

ੈ♡˳

It was dark out, and Jeremy had just finished calling Engineer on the pay phone while you sat on a nearby bench: Scout’s jacket draped over you. Only a few people milled about, leaving to their cars underneath the street lamps.

Jeremy sat down next to you, reaching to hold your hand. “Engie’s gonna be here in ‘bout ten minutes...you alright doll?”

You delicately took it. “I dunno…”

“Did anything happen?”

“I mean, kinda? It’s stupid though, dunno why I’m getting so focused on it.”

“Can you tell me?”

You took a deep breath and looked at the concrete. “Well, I don’t know if you actually heard me, but earlier I accidentally said that I love you. I- I mean, not accidentally, I do, but it just, y’know, slipped out.”

“I heard you doll,” Scout said, tilting your face up to look at him.

“Then why didn’t you say anything? I mean, I get if you don’t love me yet, I’m not gonna blame you, but just say something.”

“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t know if you were bein’ serious, doll,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “Y’know, you’re amazing and sweet, and almost every time I’ve liked someone this fantastic they’re just with me for laughs.”

“Jeremy…we’ve been dating for two months, did you really think that I don’t care about you?”

“Well I mean, two months right. I kinda thought you would’ve already said ‘I love you’ by now, so just- I dunno. . . do you actually love me?”

“Of course I do, Jeremy, I just was nervous because I thought I said it too early,” you said, leaning closer to him, looking at how his face caught the light of the street lamp.

“I love you too,” Scout said with a dorky smile before pulling you close and kissing you. You probably would’ve kissed for much longer but the sound of a truck horn interrupted you. 

“Hey lovebirds, get in!” Engineer shouted from the truck.

Scout pulled away and blushed before getting in with you, holding your hand tight the whole time. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[rallamajoop]

Queer lit of the 1800s: Two gay Victorian vampire stories you've probably never heard of

So, I have this post in the works tackling that all-important question: just why are there so many gay vampire stories? But in writing it, what was supposed to be a brief tangent about a couple of little-known m/m vampire stories from all the way back in the late 1800s era… started expanding into something not-so-brief, as such tangents are prone to do.

But what the hell, the internet tells me it's queer history month: clearly the only solution is to give those stories their own post, where my tangent can spin out as far as it likes!

Now, if you know anything about Victorian vampire literature or the lesbian vampire genre, you’ve probably already heard about Carmilla, by Sheridan le Fanu (1872), the world’s very first (known) lesbian vampire story. To this day, it's easily the second best-known and widely adapted tale in all the Victorian vampire canon (after Dracula, obviously) – and it probably deserves to be too.

But this is not a post about Carmilla, because Carmilla is not the only gay-vampire-story written way back in the Victorian era. It's not even the least subtle gay-vampire-tale.

There are (at least) two others, both featuring male/male vampire/human pairings. And whether or not they ‘deserve’ to be remembered in the same breath as Carmilla, they’re both fascinating works in their own rights: Manor, by Karl Heinrich Ulrichs (1884) – one of the world’s first gay activists – and A True Story of a Vampire, by Count Eric Stenbock (1894).

You can read both online. A True Story of a Vampire is long out of copyright and can be found on Gutenberg (Carmilla is too, if you're interested), and many other places. Manor has been translated into English only much more recently, but you can still get hold of it in pdf form, or buy it in ebook format. But if what you really want are some summaries, and/or whole lot of extra context and analysis to go with the stories themselves, I've got you covered below.

Manor (1884), Sailor Stories, and Karl Heinrich Ulrichs

We’ll start with Manor, since it was published ten years before our other example, and because I’m not quite cruel enough to leave you going "wait, did you really just tell me there was a legit gay activist writing vampire slashfic in his free time way back in the 1880s?" while I ramble on about the other story first. We'll start with the author himself, because his own story is at least as interesting as any fiction he ever published.

Born in Germany in 1825, Karl Heinrich Ulrichs knew from a young age that he was attracted to men. He trained in law, but wisely resigned before he could be fired in 1854 when his proclivities came to the attention of his superiors. Most in his position would've redoubled their efforts to hide; Ulrichs spent the next several years joining societies dedicated to science and literature and developing his own theories about non-hetero orientations, before officially coming out to his family in 1862.

He was just getting started. By 1867, he was ready to come out to the whole world.

Ulrichs is far from the first gay man to recognise his attraction without shame and find society in like-minded individuals ‒ but he may well be the very first to come out voluntarily and publicly, and advocate for the decriminalisation of homosexuality. And when I say "publicly" what I mean of course is, "in a formal address to the Congress of German Jurists." He was shouted down, but it was still a staggering act of bravery for a man of his time. It would still be a staggering act of bravery in many parts of the world today.

Undaunted by his reception, Ulrichs would also publish a dozen booklets advocating for rights for his community between 1864 and 1879, framing their sexuality as natural, inborn and wholly benign. In 1880, after multiple arrests for his political advocacy, he left Germany for self-imposed exile in Italy, where he would remain until his death in 1895. But it's during this period that he published some poetry, as well as Sailor Stories, a collection of four short stories inspired primarily by Norse mythology, including Manor (which we’ll get to, don’t worry).

Though Ulrichs saw little legal success in his lifetime, through modern eyes, his greatest failure might be only that he was so far ahead of his time. When he began writing and advocating, the word 'homosexuality' didn't even exist yet ‒ he himself used the term 'Urnings' for gay men, eventually coining terms for variations like 'Mannling' and 'Weibling' (gay male equivalent of 'butch' and 'femme') as well. He also came to recognise bisexuality, lesbian attraction, and even intersex conditions, theorising that all resulted from some combination of male and female characteristics developing in the same individual, as the available knowledge on embryonic development suggested might be possible. For a guy with only Victorian era science to work from, that's still remarkably close to the modern consensus today.

Nor did Ulrichs' work die with him. His writings would go on to inspire and be republished by gay rights movements that followed him ‒ including the work and advocacy of Magnus Hirschfeld, who created what may be the world's first trans-affirming clinic. Even in his own time, responses from his own readers show much his work meant to them, reassured at last that they weren't alone.

So how does a German activist from the 1880s find himself publishing gay vampire fiction based on Norse mythology while living in exile in Italy? I only wish I knew. My sources suggest his main goal with Sailor Stories was to publish something that would sell. Unsurprisingly, given the subject matter it seems to have sold very little. Manor is the third of four short tales, and by far the gayest of them all. It's also (IMHO) by far the best, and the most interesting.

Set in a Norwegian fishing village, Manor tells the story of the romance between a 15-year-old boy called Har, and the titular Manor, a sailor 4 years his senior, who rescues Har from the wreck which killed his father. In the days that follow, the pair become close, and Manor takes to swimming across the bay on summer evenings to visit Har at his home. And so they meet whenever they can, until tragedy strikes again, and Manor is killed in a shipwreck near the coast, leaving Har inconsolable with grief.

But this being a vampire story, in the nights after Manor’s death, something is seen swimming across the bay to Har’s home, just as Manor used to do. Har is visited night after night by the spectre of his beloved, who lies beside him in bed, strokes his cheek with cold hands, and kisses him with icy lips, draining his blood from his heart, "like an infant at its mother’s breast." Har himself awaits each night with mixed joy and fear, longing to see Manor again, even in such a form.

As Har weakens, the villagers attempt to trap Manor in his grave by hammering a stake through his body, but he continues to visit Har nonetheless, now sporting a gaping wound in his chest. The villagers return with a new stake, widened at the base like a giant nail, and finally, Manor is restrained in his grave. But it’s too late for Har: weakened and heartsick, he dies, begging only that he should be buried beside his beloved at last. Neither rise again. 

Though I can’t speak to how it reads in the original German, in translation, Manor is relayed in largely workmanlike prose. Its tale is short, simple, and sad – but so much about it fascinates me all the same.

(Draugen, Theodor Kittelsen, 1891)

There’s the incorporation of elements you might better recognise from Norse draugr folklore – revenants more typically associated with deaths at sea, or charged with guarding their own graves ‒ but still far more closely related to the vampires of Slavic mythology than most people probably realise. Manor is also one of painfully few stories which clearly recognises what is surely the original purpose of hammering a stake through a vampire’s body: not to kill it, but to hold the creature down and prevent it from leaving its grave. As a hopeless vampire-nerd (I've presented panels at conventions about this stuff, it's dangerous to get me started), I can’t tell you how much I love those aspects of this story.

But above all, Ulrichs’ tale captures what might be one of the oldest and most traditional versions of the folkloric vampire: the spectre of a lost loved one, and the potent mixture of fear and twisted longing thus inspired, that the weight of their loss might drag you down into death to join them. Many ‘real’ tales of vampirism have been inspired by outbreaks of wasting diseases like consumption, working their way through a family, one member at a time. But in Har’s case, it is clearly grief as much as Manor’s physical visits that claims him. He loves Manor so much that he welcomes his lover back, even as a revenant. In his own way, Har too is cursed by Manor’s death to wander the world like the walking dead, until finally reunited with his lover once more.

Nowadays, tragic love stories like this tend to get an eye roll from a lot of the queer community. The old ‘bury your gays’ trope has been done to death, and we’re largely sick of being told that noble suffering is the best we can hope for. But it’s notable nonetheless that Manor’s sexuality has no bearing on his death, and little about the story would change were Har female. It's far from clear if the rest of the village even recognises Har and Manor's love for what it is, let alone whether they'd disapprove ‒ after all, vampires will often go after friends and acquaintances when lovers and family members are exhausted. As such, it’s hard to read the village’s attempts to keep Manor in his grave as a simple matter of prejudice. They're also genuinely trying to save Har's life.

And yet, the way Har keeps the undead Manor’s visits a secret, even begging for the stake to be removed so they can resume, echoes the real experiences of so many gay and lesbian couples far too clearly to be accidental. And however disturbing to a contemporary audience, Har’s willingness to follow his lover to the grave leaves little doubt of the depths of his feelings. To an audience in the 1800s, even the most cliched example of bury-your-gays would be revolutionary.

Did I mention that this story fascinates me? There are layers to this thing.

For completeness, I’ve also read the rest of Sailor Stories (and you can too at the same link). Only one of the other three tales contains any queer romance: the first, Sulitelma, where a boy called Erich falls for a handsome sailor called Harald he meets aboard a spectral storm ship. But there's no happy ending: his sister falls for the same handsome sailor, and shoves Erich overboard to his death to eliminate her competition.

Atlantis, the second story in the collection, is a direct sequel to Sulitelma, but it's even more bizarre. Erich is barely mentioned, and instead we find ourselves reading a tale which I can only summarise as like something I might have found on fanfiction.net back in the early aughts, written by some 14yo trying to straightwash the original material. Here, Harald and some of his fellows go on shore leave to the land of the phoenix, populated by Greek nymphs and Cupid, and mildly comedic hijinx ensue. It is fascinatingly bizarre, but not exactly satisfying as a read (or a sequel).

The final story, The Monk of Sumboe, tells of how two close friends destroy their relationship and themselves with their fixation on the tale of an alluring siren. There's a solid concept in there somewhere, but it's far too short and abrupt to do much with it, and all the characters remain strictly heterosexual. But if there's one thematic detail that ties it to the rest of the collection (beside the many Norse elements), it's that hopeless longing for something others would warn you away from ‒ whether that be a phantom ship, a visit from a vampire lover, or an elusive siren. None of these tales end well for their protagonists, but we're drawn to sympathise with them nonetheless.

I cannot guess what reception Karl Ulrichs expected in publishing this book. Sailor Stories is neither a work that could expect good reception from mainstream audiences or a defiantly-radical queer masterpiece. What did people make of it in its own time? Was it read and cherished by at least a few boys or men like Har and Manor? I’d hope so, but I’ll probably never know.

If you'd like to read more about Karl Ulrichs, I can recommend (among my sources) this New York Times article for a quick overview of his work, or the various work of Michael Lombardi-Nash and Hubert Kennedy (link 2). You can also read the first chapter of his published correspondence online for free.

A True Story of a Vampire (1894), and Count Eric Stenbock

Our second Victorian vampire tale was first published in English, though it was written by a Swedish Count. Like Carmilla in its own day (and quite unlike Karl Ulrichs), both story and author seem to have flown largely under the radar until many years after publication, the queer subtext little noted or commented upon (if at all).

If nothing else though, A True Story of a Vampire aptly demonstrates that at least someone of that era spotted what Carmilla was really about – because he wrote his own version, only about men. Stenbock’s tale is effectively a much shorter, gender-swapped version of Carmilla – but with a larger age gap between vampire and victim lending the story uncomfortable pederastic overtones.

"Vampire stories are generally located in Styria; mine is also," it begins – though I couldn’t name you any vampire story from the era besides Carmilla set there. The narrator, the surviving sister of the vampire’s victim, is called ‘Carmela’, if you needed further proof.

Much like in Carmilla herself, the vampire, Count Vardalek (a Slavic term for vampire) arrives at their house after being forced to seek local hospitality when some convenient ‘accident’ interrupts his travels. There, he bewitches and slowly drains the life from her brother, Gabriel – a boy described in terms variously angelic and fey, a wild thing who befriends wild animals and would rather climb a tree to a window than take the stairs to his own room, but who cleans up beautifully for church – a sublime, cinnamon roll of a creature, far too good for this sinful earth, too pure. Gabriel is a true male equivalent of the likes of Dracula’s Lucy, feminised further still by his youth and innocence. Had a vampire not got him, one can only imagine he’d have eventually have been spirited away by the fairies.

Gabriel and the mysterious Count are drawn to one another immediately. Even as Gabriel wastes slowly away, he greets Vardalek eagerly each time he returns by throwing his arms around his neck and kissing him on the lips. Count Vardalek himself seems to be a vampire of the psychic variety, gaining in health and vitality while Gabriel wilts, merely after spending time in one another’s presence. Vardalek himself seems to genuinely regret Gabriel’s inevitable death, but unlike in Carmilla, there’s no rescue at our conclusion. Gabriel dies, and we’re given no reason to assume he’ll rise again.

To the modern reader, the true horror of this tale lies not with the vampires or even the homoeroticism, but with those uncomfortably pederastic implications. Gabriel can’t be more than twelve years old, his youth and innocence emphasised in his every description. Pains are taken to suggest that Gabriel’s own attraction to Vardalek is as much responsible for his fate as the vampire himself. Gabriel’s father is similarly bewitched by this charming stranger, and never recognises the danger, or the reason for his son’s tragic death. Even the narrator, his loving sister, cannot truly hate Vardalek for taking her brother from her – even when her father dies of grief soon after. Gabriel’s fate seems sealed from the moment the Count enters their home.

But knowing how often real child molesters get away with it, their actions excused or downplayed by their family, their victims accused of ‘seducing’ their abusers and made complicit in their own misery… I can only say that, for my money, A True Story of a Vampire is a very effective horror story in ways the author probably never intended, once you start to question the reliability of its narrator.

It won’t surprise you to learn that the author, Count Eric Stanislaus Stenbock, was a (very) gay man, deeply involved with the gothic and decadent artistic movements of his day. Born to a Swedish Count and an English heiress, Stenbock seems to be remembered less for his writing than for his character. In The Oxford Book of Modern Verse, 1892-1935, W.B. Yeats describes him as a "scholar, connoisseur, drunkard, poet, pervert, most charming of men" ‒ naming Stenbock as an exemplar of the poetic zeitgeist of the age. Notably however, none of Stenbock’s actual poetry is featured in the volume.

Stories about Stenbock are so bizarre that it’s hard to know how much should be believed. Eric Stenbock supposedly travelled with a multitude of exotic pets and a life-sized doll he referred to as his 'son', dabbled in religions ranging from Roman Catholicism to Buddhism, and decorated his dwelling with peacock feathers, oriental shawls, a bronze statue of Eros and a hanging pentagram. One acquaintance once compared him to a 'magnified child': "very fair hair beautifully curled, and a blond, round, blue-eyed face," who paused at the door and "took a little phial out of his pocket, from which he anointed his fingers, before passing them through his locks." But by his thirties, he was already dying of liver disease after years of alcoholism. He passed away at only 35.

Stenbock’s surviving artistic legacy consists of three volumes of poetry and one of prose, with some of those poems including explicit references to Ganymede or male lovers. So how did he escape the same controversy that dogged similar works by other queer creatives of his day, like Oscar Wilde or Walt Whitman – let alone Karl Ulrichs? Well, simple: his work never attracted enough attention to generate real controversy. Stenbock may have been just as much a character as figures like Wilde, but he hadn't nearly the same talent or success.

One last minor biographic detail that may be worthy of note (discovered courtesy of some very poor-quality scans of his one proper biography) is that the youthful Gabriel of A True Story of a Vampire may owe his name to a real Gabriele ‒ a female cousin ten years Stenbock’s junior, whom he would've spent time with in his teens, and seems to have been especially fond of. Whatever the true significance of that name, he'd use it more than once in his fiction: another short story, The Other Side: A Breton Legend, also stars an angelic little boy called Gabriel, with a similar dangerous attraction to the strange. It features some lovely mood and imagery as it sets the scene, but (perhaps as a result of the lack of a suitable model story like Carmilla) it is, in my opinion, a much weaker story overall.

But again, the most disturbing aspect of Stenbock's biography are the hints about his own relationships with much younger men. His second book of poetry, Myrtle, Rue and Cypress, is dedicated to three people: Simeon Solomon (a gay painter of the pre-Raphaelite movement, whom he met at Oxford), Arvid Stenbock, Eric's cousin, and to "the memory of Charles Fowler" ‒ the son of a Clergyman, who died of consumption at only 16.

This enigmatic dedication is all we know about Stenbock's relationship with Fowler. We don't even know how the they met (Fowler seems to have had a relative at Oxford at the same time as Stenbock, but even this is speculation). But that dedication, in a book which will go on to feature poems about the beauty of Ganymede, or explicitly addressed 'To A Boy' (Tis ever a delight, dear, To gaze upon thy face, To love the life within thee, Fair fashioned, full of grace) makes it hard to read Stenbock's feelings as remotely platonic.

It doesn’t help that the same volume includes a poem about an actual vampire, published ten years before A True Story of a Vampire would ever be penned, but with very comparable subject matter:

With slow soft sensual sips Draw the life from the tender spray, And brush from thy soft lithe lips The bloom of thy boyhood away

It's worth keeping in mind that Stenbock himself would've been only 21 at the time of Fowler's death, and that we don't know whether he ever acted on his attraction (whatever form it may have taken). He may well, as I've seen suggested, have kept his admiration private, idealising the image of the beautiful, dying boy in his final days, in that classic Victorian-gothic way. But it doesn't help that Stenbock's cousin Arvid, from that other dedication in the same book, was 8 years his junior, and that their family apparently disapproved of their relationship as "unnaturally close." Or that another famous Stenbock-associate was Norman O'Neil, a composer whom he met on a London omnibus in 1891, when O'Neil too was only 16. Stenbock was apparently taken by his intelligence and beauty, and would go on to leave him a considerable sum of money in his will. By 1891, Stenbock would've been 31, but his fixations hadn't aged with him.

So how are we to take all this? This was an age where a marriage between a 16-year-old girl and a suitor of Stenbock's age would scarcely have raised eyebrows. Uncomfortable as it may sound today, for many queer youths of the era, a romance with someone older and experienced enough to play mentor may genuinely have represented the safest real option available. There are layers of complicated subtext, meanwhile, in the idea of any gay man of the Victorian era casting himself as a vampiric monster, doomed to ruin the object of their attraction with their very touch. There may be layers more in Stenbock framing his tale as "A true story" before telling us of the misery a foreign Count brought to an innocent family, with his helpless fixation on their youngest child.

It's worth noting also that even in Manor, by Legit Gay Activist Karl Ulrichs, our love story is between a boy of 15 and a man of 19 ‒ an age gap of only 4 years, but large enough at 15 to raise some serious eyebrows. His first story too, Sulitelma, involves attraction between a man and a boy (exact ages unknown). Though Ulrichs explicitly viewed relationships with prepubescent children as reprehensible, he seems to have had no problem with relationships between young teens and much older adults ‒ even printing a story sent in by a reader (details in this article), joyfully recounting how he (the reader) was initiated into the world of male/male love as a 14-year-old by his brother's riding master. Ulrichs saw no reason to disapprove.

To confuse things for anyone looking this up today, google Ulrichs, and you'll find a number of online articles claiming that his own first experience involved being sexually assaulted by a riding instructor when he was only 14. This is wrong on multiple fronts: not only is the story related by Ulrichs as a positive experience, it wasn't even Ulrichs it happened to. No, shit like this would not be okay if it happened today (and frequently wasn't then), but we don't help ourselves by distorting the stories told by our queer forebears to fit modern expectations.

But none of that surrounding context makes the youth of the day any less vulnerable to predation, or Stenbock's fixation on youthful beauty less creepy. Today, no evidence remains to help us guess whether idealising the beauty and innocence of youth was the greatest of Stenbock's actual crimes, or the least of them. Anything is possible.

In brief: welcome to the joy of trying to reconcile the complicated place of pederasty in queer history! I'm afraid you can look forward to seeing a lot of it from here on back.

A True Story of a Vampire is not a bad work of fiction by any means. There are some lovely descriptions and entertaining turns of phrase, and the horror is certainly effective. It may even be considerably more readable than Carmilla to many, simply for being so much shorter. But how you feel about it is really going to be up to you.

One last digression about Carmilla and Christabel

There’s one additional work that I’ve once or twice seen listed as an even earlier queer vampire tale: Samuel Coleridge’s unfinished poem Christabel (1800) – the only problem being there’s no vampire in the story (and how queer it is may be questionable too).

Like Carmilla, Christabel tells of a Baron’s daughter (the titular Christabel) who comes upon a mysterious stranger in apparent distress (Geraldine) and invites her into her home. We never learn what kind of being Geraldine truly is (three further parts were planned in addition to the two that were completed), but when she undresses, Christabel spies something that horrifies her, remembering it later with the words "Again she saw that bosom old / Again she felt that bosom cold." But under Geraldine’s spell, Christabel’s recollection of this incident comes and goes, and Geraldine has soon bewitched her father too.

All ‘evidence’ that Geraldine was intended to be a vampire rests on such details as Geraldine having to be carried past an iron gate into the house, much as vampires have to be invited in – but that particular vampire trope wasn’t actually codified until a solid century later (like most vampire-tropes, we have Stoker's Dracula to blame). The idea that Geraldine has the cold, shrivelled body of the undead and revives herself on Christabel’s blood is a perfectly valid reading, but the more obvious interpretation would be that she’s some manner of shapeshifting fairy creature, weakened by the iron of the gateway, not the entrance to Christabel’s home. The aristocratic literary vampire had existed for over 40 years and appeared in numerous works of fiction by Carmilla's day; but Christabel predates the origins of the genre a solid two decades. For Coleridge to have come up with the idea independently seems vanishingly unlikely.

I mention Christabel here partly for completeness, but mostly to bring us back around to the greater family of Carmilla, which is still legitimately the first known queer vampire story. Though far better known than any other story discussed here today, how it came about is perhaps the most mysterious.

Sheridan le Fanu was a prolific writer, but I don’t know of any other story he’s penned with subtext like Carmilla's (and I’m not quite invested enough to read all of the rest to check, though someone totally should so I don't have to). Le Fanu was married, and had children, and that's all I can discover about his personal life. Was he some shade of queer himself? Did he have connections to anyone who was? Did he even realise what he was writing with Carmilla? Nothing I’ve read about him provides any answers. Nor can I tell you how many readers spotted the subtext it the story was first published. In its own time, it caused no great scandal, nor even seems to have garnered much attention (by contrast, Byron & Polidori's The Vampyre caused an uproar when it was published in 1819, mostly thanks to Byron's established fame and debates over its true authorship). It took until well into the 20th Century for it to obtain the reputation it has today.

But I’m sure it’s no coincidence that it was Carmilla that spoke to Stenbock enough that he chose to retell it. And while A True Story of a Vampire is still the only other vampire story of the era set in Styria, there was almost another one: Dracula, at least Stoker’s early plans for the novel. Styria also remains part of the unused prequel chapter later published as Dracula’s Guest. The setting isn’t the only detail Stoker nearly-borrowed from Carmilla either, my favourite example being the weird schedule by which both she and Dracula seem to have to be in bed in their coffins at dawn each day, both apparently helpless and immobile in sleep, though both are also repeatedly seen up and about later in the day. Neither tale offers any real explanation.

Have I mentioned lately that Stoker, too, was almost certainly some shade of gay?

Now, the fact that two different queer writers both found Carmilla so very inspiring – and would even both publish their own works of vampire literature within five years of one another – isn’t much to go on, in trying to establish what a story like Carmilla might’ve meant to England’s queer population some twenty years after it was written. Maybe Carmilla was being eagerly passed around London’s own Uranian gothic societies at the time. Or maybe two different men happened upon it by chance in wholly different circumstances, and took very different things from reading it. Maybe Stoker didn’t even notice the queer subtext himself. But I can’t help but wonder if just maybe, there's something more than coincidence at work here.

Carmilla the vampire is an explicitly villainous character, her victim confused and unwilling. But she remains one of the most complex and sympathetic vampires of her era. And perhaps, to a community who had never seen Ulrichs’ writing published in their own language, and might never see themselves represented in fiction except as monsters buried in layers of protective subtext, that still meant something to readers like Stenbock, and Stocker, and who knows how many others.

In short, maybe old, gay vampire stories like these really are worth remembering. I'll leave that one up to you.

[act-nat-ural]

Study Guide

word count: 735

It was a cool evening, and the warm light of the desk lamp cast a cozy glow over your textbooks, notebooks, and a small mountain of scattered notes. You were halfway through yet another practice test, and every wrong answer seemed to add weight to your shoulders. It felt like you were getting nowhere, and frustration was bubbling up.

That was when you heard a knock on the door, and Kita’s familiar voice followed. “Mind if I come in?”

You looked up, surprised, but the frustration melted a bit at the sight of him. He stood there with his usual calm smile, eyes warm and reassuring. You nodded, shifting a little to make space for him.

Kita walked over and glanced at the papers on your desk. “You’ve been at this for hours,” he observed, sitting beside you. “You’re doing alright?”

You shrugged, feeling the tension still clinging to your shoulders. “Not really. I just… I keep messing up. I feel like I’m not remembering anything.”

Kita hummed thoughtfully and took a quick glance at your notes. “That’s tough. But look at how much work you’ve put in already,” he pointed out, tapping a neat stack of completed worksheets. “It might not feel like it, but you’re further along than you think.”

You sighed. “It doesn’t feel like enough. I’m trying so hard, but the more I study, the more it feels like I’m losing track of everything.”

Kita gave a gentle nod, acknowledging how you felt. “It’s natural to feel overwhelmed,” he said, his voice soft and steady. “Especially when you care about something. But overworking yourself won’t make things better. You’ve done a lot, so maybe it’s time to take a breath and slow down.”

He leaned forward, his gaze warm and calm. “Let’s try a different approach, yeah? If you’re alright with it, I can help break things down and make a plan. Something that won’t make you feel like you have to remember everything all at once.”

The idea of structure, of a clear path, sounded wonderful. You nodded, and Kita reached over, starting to sort through your papers. He arranged them in small, manageable piles, explaining his reasoning with that same steady tone. “Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll tackle one subject at a time, bit by bit, like pieces of a puzzle. And for every topic you feel good about, we’ll set it aside, and then we’ll only focus on the ones that are still a bit hazy.”

His calm, organized approach made everything seem so much more manageable. You relaxed a little, watching as he worked, his brow furrowed just slightly in concentration.

After a few minutes, he looked up with a small, satisfied smile. “Alright, let’s give it a shot. I’ll quiz you on a few things, and if you don’t know the answer right away, don’t worry. We’ll just go over it together. You’re not doing this alone.”

With Kita beside you, studying felt different. Each time you hesitated, he didn’t push or rush; he would calmly guide you through the process, explaining things in a way that somehow made everything click. When you got an answer right, he gave a warm nod, that quiet pride in his expression lighting a little spark of confidence in you. When you struggled, he’d patiently walk you through it again, making sure you understood the steps.

As the evening wore on, the knot of anxiety you’d felt started to unravel. The material began to feel less intimidating, like you could actually handle it. Kita’s presence made all the difference—his steady confidence in you started to make you believe in yourself, too.

After a while, he noticed the way you were stifling a yawn. “Looks like you’re getting tired,” he said gently, setting down the last page of notes. “Let’s call it a night. You’ve done a lot today, more than enough.”

You protested at first, feeling like you should keep going, but he shook his head with a gentle smile. “Pushing yourself too hard now won’t help tomorrow. Trust me. You’ll be ready.”

He squeezed your shoulder lightly, his hand warm and reassuring. “And if you need any more help, I’m here. Don’t forget that, alright?”

You nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude as he looked at you with that steady, unshakable faith. With Kita by your side, you felt stronger—and maybe, just maybe, ready to face the challenges ahead.

note: akaashi x reader will be posted later today :)

[turcott3]

all star break

john marino x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, pet names, oral male receiving, unprotected sex, and ofc fluff

masterlist

-

you laid out on the beach all day with your fellow girlfriends while all of the boys played out in the water like kids.

“nate really forgot sunscreen again, look at him.” nate’s girlfriend speaks up.

“he is looking redder than a tomato.” you laugh anxiously, not recalling john putting any on either. after a few more hours of laying out in the sun, you pack everything up and head back to the house, the walk being as humbling as it could be.

“baby you looked so good in your bikini.” john says tickling your sides as he shuts your bedroom door.

“and you need to wear sunscreen mister. you’re gonna look like nate by tomorrow if you don’t. no more of that ‘i don’t need it’s bullshit.” you say shoving his hands away from you as you laugh.

“i did put some on, i guess i just didn’t do a very good job of applying it.” he sighs.

“or reapplying.” you say and he laughs.

“listen i want to date a man not a fucking tomato.” you giggle as he tackles you onto the bed, peppering kisses all over your face with his hands placed firmly on your sides.

“baby stop, we’re gonna get sand in the bed.” you laugh, truthfully not wanting him to stop.

“you’re no fun.” he pouts pulling away, walking towards the bathroom.

“im going to shower.”

“good you stink.” you say and he flips you off. you and john’s relationship was a lot of bullying but a lot more love which was more than you could ever ask for. you laid in bed on your phone until john emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist.

“how was the shower?” you ask sitting up, your eyes landing on his fit physique.

“it was great, would’ve been better if you came with but you know whatever.” he says digging into his clothes.

“you didn’t invite me so i stayed here.” you reply, walking over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to his back before he turns around using a hand to guide your lips to his. you tried to deepen the kiss but you were hesitantly denied.

“go shower baby.” he says, his hand still holding your face, his eyes wandering all over your face with love.

“okay.” you say as he kisses you one more time before letting go of you and turning back around.

“john.” you say turning around before entering the bathroom.

“yes?” he says pulling a shirt over his head.

“i love you.”

“i love you too honey.”

“good just had to double check.” you giggle shutting the door to the bathroom behind you.

-

the next morning you woke up bright and early, prepared for another long beach day.

“j, wake up.” you say shaking him, the skin of his shoulders warm to the touch. he groans rolling over to face you.

“you’re burnt my love.” you say running your hand gently over his cheek, brushing your hand through the hair on the side of his head.

“i know, i can feel it.” he groans stretching out before leaning up on his elbow to greet you at your level.

“good morning.” you smile lightly as he leans in to peck your lips before rolling out of bed.

“breakfast?” he asks turning around before exiting the room.

“please.” you reply.

“you got it.” he simply states, walking out of your bedroom for you to get changed. once your next bikini is on under one of the many shirts you’ve stolen from john, you exit the room and enter the kitchen, watching your boyfriend hard at work.

“smells great babe.” you say sitting at the bar.

“good because it’s almost ready.” he smiles cheekily at you, a blush spreading over your face quickly. he plates your food setting it down in front of you before playing his own and sitting down in the seat next to you. you sat eating your breakfast and talking for a while, loving the amount of quality time you were actually able to spend with him, given the season typically doesn’t allow it.

“i think they’ll be ready to go soon, i need to change.” he says setting both of your plates in the sink.

“and put on sunscreen.” you smile reminding him.

“i’ll let you do it, since i don’t do it good enough.” he says in a mocking tone.

“sounds good to me.” you reply as you followed him into your bedroom, shutting the door behind you.

“these?” he asks holding up a pair of navy trunks littered with tiny watermelons.

“yep.” you reply. without another word he slides him pajama pants off, pulling the swim trunks on right after.

“and done.” he smiles, kissing you on the head in passing to grab the sunscreen.

“here you are madam.” he says, handing you the bottle.

“turn around i’m doing your back first.” you say, opening the bottle and squeezing some onto your hand. carefully, you work the cream into his back, thoroughly coating the red tint near his shoulders.

“have you considered being a masseuse that feels fucking incredible.” he says, his hesd tilting back in pleasure.

“can’t say i have.” you giggle, clearly sensing the tension in the room rise. once you finished working on his back, you asked him to turn around which he did. you look up at his face, his eyes already locked on yours. you squeeze more into your hand, slowly lathering it on his chest, his breath hitching as you worked your way down his abs.

“what’s got you so worked up huh?” you ask, your face inching closer to his. all he does is shake his head in response and you giggle, wiping the excess onto your thighs as you drop carefully to your knees.

“y/n-“

“i’m getting your legs john, chill.” you say, clearly having an ulterior motive. you work carefully rubbing the cream into his legs, allowing your fingers to occasionally find their way under the leg of his trunks, his muscles twitching occasionally.

“is it me or is it hot in here?” you ask, removing your shirt, revealing your newest swimsuit addition to him.

“fuck.” he says as his head falls back.

“what’s the matter baby?” you say standing up, your hands running up his chest.

“you.” he says looking back down, his curls falling onto his forehead.

“awe, i’m sorry.” you smirk, spitting on your hand, sneaking it into his trunks, taking his hard cock into your hand. stroking it slowly, feeling every inch of it in detail.

“fuck y/n.” he says, pulling you by the back of your neck, colliding your lips hastily. you pull away slowly, keeping eye contact as you sink to your knees, pulling the waistband of his trunks down, freeing his dick from constriction. his breath hitches as your mouth makes contact with his tip, your tongue running across his sensitive head. with the help of your hands, you take him all into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks. you feel his hand gather your hair to keep it out of the way as you bob your head up and down at a quick pace, eventually removing it with a pop as spit webs from your lips. anxiously, he pulls you up to his level, attaching your lips again not caring that his dick was just deep in your throat.

“john.” you whisper as he directs his attention to the sensitive skin on your neck. his fingers carefully untie the knot on the back of your already strapless top.

“john.” you say again and he backs away looking at you with a questionable expression.

“i want you to fuck me.” you whisper into his ears, sinking from your tiptoes from his ear. it’s like his brain kicks into high gear, picking you up and tossing you on the bed, crawling over you again.

“so gorgeous.” he smiles at you kissing you again. quickly, you remove your bottoms, leaving both of you completely naked now. he positions himself between your legs, running his dripping tip through your folds teasingly.

“john please.”

“relax baby.” he says lowly before pushing himself into you, leaning over reattaching his lips to your neck. his thrusts were hard and deep, sending you spiraling into a moaning mess. your nails dig into the burnt skin on his back as your legs hooked around his hips, digging your heels in like you’re telling him to go faster without words. he picks up his pace rhythmically, going from slow to quick seamlessly. his dick was bigger than any guy you remember fucking in highschool, it practically blew your mind how quickly he could make you reach your edge.

“god you feel so fucking good.” you muster up the words, your hands finding their way to either side of his head that hovered above you, bringing your lips together. you craved his kiss more than you’d ever craved anything in your life.

“shit, i love you.” he says grunting pulling away as he presses down lightly on your lower stomach where it bulged with each of his thrusts, the pressure you felt as he hit your cervix now more escalated.

“john.” you say practically in a whisper.

“what is it baby?”

“i’m gonna come.” you say, practically seeing stars as your wet walls clenched tightly around him.

“come for me y/n.” he replies, you edging closer to your climax each second.

“fuck oh my god.” you say as the knot unravels in your abdomen, sending shockwaves through your body as he coated your walls with his milky climax. he pulls out of you, rolling over to lay on your left side.

“god you’re incredible.” he says, leaning up to kiss you deeply before running to grab a clean towel to wipe the mess he made between your legs. you winced at the contact as your core was swollen and dripping with the mixture of your climax and his.

“shhhhhh you’re okay baby.” he says running a loving hand up and down your thigh, noticing your legs still shaking.

“i don’t think i’ve ever come that much the entire time we’ve been together….. or just ever in general.” you say as he takes his place next to you once again.

“wow i’m hurt.” he says sarcastically.

“bitch that was a compliment.” you laugh smacking his arm.

“i know, i was messing with you. thank you baby.” he says kissing you sweetly.

“shit we’re gonna be late for the beach.” he says checking the clock again and getting out of bed.

“they can go, we can meet them there. i’m not ready yet, come back.” you say and he returns to you, laying his body between your legs and head on your chest. your hands found their way into his beautiful brown curls, scratching his scalp lightly.

“it makes me sad that we can barely have days or nights like these during the season.” you say lowly, only to be answered with a light snore from your boyfriend, a light giggle coming from you in response.

“i love you too johnny.” you sigh, covering the two of you with the comforter.

-

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Mad Love Epilogue

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

nsfw, minors dni

A season had passed since I decided to throw everything away for Roger.

Alfons and Elbert: Roger’s cheating?

I confided my recent troubles to the two as we ate the sweets that Liam had brought back as souvenirs.

Elbert: …Why do you think so?

Kate: As Roger’s exclusive fairytale keeper, Roger and I have been doing everything together, haven’t we? Lately, something hasn’t been feeling right when we’re together. For example, after sleeping together, I find him gone the next morning. And the other day—

~~ Flashback ~~

Kate: Huh? Roger, are you getting off here?

Roger: Yeah, I got something I need to do. Be a good girl and head home.

Kate: Eh, ah…Roger!

~~ End flashback ~~

Kate: —Something like that happened. Still, that’s not enough proof so I don’t think—

Alfons: Guily. He’s 100% cheating.

Kate: Huh?

Alfons: Consider this. Before he met you, he was a man that would only have one night stands to satisfy his sexual urges. He may know romantic love, but a person’s nature doesn’t just change. That man doesn’t consider it cheating and continues doing what he does.

(...I-Isee. I’m in shock and my head’s spinning)

Kate: …If that were the case, then how do I keep Roger’s heart?

Alfons: Oh, you’re not thinking “I’m going to dump him!”?

(I wonder if I’d feel more at ease if I did)

Kate: It’s how it is. I could never hate him.

Alfons: Poor Kate. If that’s the case, let me show you a better method.

Elbert: …? …??

--

When Kate left after Alfons showed her the “better method”, Elbert somberly opened his mouth to speak.

Elbert: Al.

Alfons: What is it? You’re giving me quite the look of disapproval.

Elbert: …You liar.

Alfons: Oh my, you sound like Harrison. Yes, what I said about him “absolutely cheating” was a lie. That damn egoist is so madly in love with Kate it makes me laugh. No doubt he is doing something for her.

Elbert: …Then why did you say he was cheating?

Alfons: It was just a way for me to pass the time of course. After all, I am the type that loves causing trouble without taking any responsibility for it. And… Minor issues are nothing but a bit of spice for a pair in love’s lives. 

--

(...Alright, now I just have to wait for Roger to come back)

At that moment, the door to Roger’s room opened—

Roger: Oh, Kate. You’re here? I was just about to go see you—

Kate: Roger!

Roger: Hm? Hmm?

I tackled Roger and kept pushing…

Roger: Woah!

Eventually I pushed him down onto the bed.

~~

Alfons: Be more bold and sexy…Nothing is more arousing than that. All you need to do is make him believe so. If you torment his body, you’ll have his heart!

~~

Kate: Roger…please open your mouth.

Roger: ……What? Mnn…

I placed a hand on his cheek and gave him the most sensual kiss I could muster.

I know I’m an idiot for just accepting everything Alfons said, but that’s just how deeply and madly in love I am with Roger.

While I was trying out different methods, I smelled perfume I didn’t recognize on Roger and I felt a lump in my throat.

Kate: …Haaa, Roger…I know you’ve been distracted by someone else.

Roger: …O_O

Kate: But I can’t be without you. So… I’m going to make you fall in love with me over and over! I will absolutely not give up!

Roger: Pfft… Hahahahaha! You really are growing into my type of woman. Amazing.

Kate: W-what? Don’t try to change the subject!

Roger: I’m not trying to. And who the heck’s distracting me?

Kate: You’ve been acting weird lately. And look! You smell like perfume right now!

Roger: Let’s start from the beginning, Kate.

--

Roger: Damn it, Al. He was saying shit to provoke you again. With how you are, you should know you’re an easy target.

Kate: …I’m ashamed of myself. But the perfume—

Roger: I went back to my folks’ place. My little sister was there so we hugged as a greeting.

(I see. I do remember you saying you have a lot of younger brothers and sisters)

Kate: …Your folks’ place?

Roger: Kate, hand me the bag over there.

I handed him the bag he had tossed aside when I pushed him down and he took out a stack of papers.

Roger: Since I’m the eldest son, I have the deed to the Barel family’s land. And this is the account where the property and assets are saved. And this—well, we can look over it later. All of this will be yours someday.

Kate: W-wait! I’m confused…Why are you giving me something so valuable?

Roger: Why?...Well*

Roger smiled and sat up halfway with me still straddling him.

Roger: You threw everything away, your house and your job, for the one you love. I know it’s not easy to let go of what you’ve built up. The whole time I was thinking if there was anything I could do for you.

Kate: The whole time?

Roger: Yeah, the whole time. It’s the first time I’ve been thinking about something other than research.

(Roger’s been preparing this for me this whole time)

(But…)

Kate: Why?

Roger: Because I love you.

Kate: I-I already know that! But this…

Roger: Yeah, looks like an inheritance, like I’m dying, doesn’t it?

Kate: ……Yes.

Roger: I won’t go so easily. In fact I’m even thinking about doing research on how to live longer.

I blinked at the absurd thought and Roger lowered his voice just a bit.

Roger: But I can’t promise you that I won’t die. There’s a chance that you’ll get left behind. If that time comes, I wanna be sure you’re not lonely or helpless. That’s all. After everything we’ve been through, you’re not gonna forget me right?

Kate: …

Roger: Kate. If you give something up, I’ll make up for it. This isn’t some sort of kind devotion though. It’s my ego wanting to completely fill your life with me.

It’s like I was choking on the love Roger threw at me without hesitation.

Kate: …Roger.

Roger: …Hm?

Kate: You love me, don’t you…?

Roger: Pfft, haha! A little late to ask that, dummy.

Roger removed his glasses and kissed me.

(Ah…)

Kate: …You have dark circles.

Roger: Haven’t been able to sleep well lately. Probably for the past 2 or 3 days?

Kate: Sleep! Now!

Roger: Don’t wanna.

Kate: Eh?

Roger: Still need to punish you for thinking I was cheating. And I haven’t held you for days.

Roger never hides his desires at times like this.

Every time I’m hit with his desire, my own desire grows in response…

Kate: Then…get some sleep after.

Roger: You know, you’re so cute that I don’t know if you’re gonna be okay in the future. But it’s fine. I’ve caught you.

Kate: Huh..Eep…

My view flipped as Roger pushed me down on the bed.

As he displaced my blouse and rained kisses down my neck, my body became hotter, more pliant, and ready.

Roger: Hm, what’s with the sexy underwear?

Kate: Ah, I got this from Alfons—

Roger: …I hate it. I’m tearing it off.

Kate: Ah…!

After tearing my underwear off, Roger’s rough hands grabbed my breasts.

I bucked my hips as his wet tongue lapped at my nipples, which started to stiffen from stimulation. 

Kate: Ah, nnnn.

Roger: Haha…You’re so red. I was gonna punish you, but you’re too cute.

Roger placed his hands on my knees and his lips between my legs—

Roger: Instead, I’m gonna show you how I’m so in love with you that I’d never cheat.

Kate: Eh, ah…ahh!

While licking my bud, thick fingers entered me and started thrusting in and out. A dizzying sense of pleasure shot through me.

Obscene sounds could be heard…

Kate: Nn, ah…if you…

Roger: You’re such a good girl, getting all wet when I lick you here.

Even after reaching my climax several times, Roger’s hand didn’t relent and instead, did more embarrassing things to me.

(...I can’t anymore…)

Kate: Roger…Haaa…

Roger: Didn’t I teach you how to beg? Come on, what do you say when you want something?

There was a clanging of something metallic and Roger undid his pants.

I gulped as he rubbed the tip along my wet folds.

My body was already very familiar with the pleasures of having something that big inside.

Kate: …Roger…please…

Roger: …A little weak, but it’ll work for tonight. Alright, Kate. I’m putting it in.

Kate: Ah, ahhhhnnn…

Roger: Come on, don’t squeeze so much already.

The guilty pleasure of being split open as Roger entered me was so arousing.

Shirt disheveled, Roger stopped moving.

Roger: …Ha…Does it hurt?

(It doesn’t. No, it’s something more)

Kate: It feels so good…So go ahead, Roger. Do whatever you want.

Roger: …Haha, don’t have to tell me twice.

Kate: Ah, aaahhh.

My palms which were once empty, were now overflowing with things Roger gave me.

The thought of losing him scared me.

—But.

(I want to love you as I enjoy this moment without being scared of losing you)

Kate: Roger, let’s be together for as long as possible.

It was out of character for Roger to brush my bangs aside and kiss me on my forehead.

--

Roger: …Heh, you fell asleep first.

As he watched his lover sleep, he pulled a lab coat out of his bag.

The lab coat was custom-made with Kate’s name embroidered on the chest. 

He gently laid it over Kate’s body.

Roger: I won’t go down that easily. But… When that time comes, you’ll take over my life’s work.

As he laid next to Kate, his true thoughts unconsciously spilled out.

Roger: A~ah, I don’t wanna die…

At this moment, the sands in his life’s hourglass continued to fall indifferently.

But unfortunately, fighting back was his specialty.

Roger: I’ll do as much as I can. For this cute one’s sake.

Tonight, the world’s full of despair.

However, at this moment, he’ll scrape up a spoonful of hope and fall into a dream with his love.

Tomorrow, he’ll fight against despair again.

So that he can live with his love for a second longer.

Letter | Both End Clear story

-

*Roger makes a dad noise (よっと yotto) here.