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zerokaram · 3 days

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college basketball!abby x reader

synopsis: you're suddenly seeing abby, your best friend since your childhood, in a new lens. is it her arms? her strength? her drive? or the way she refuses to talk to, or even look at any other girl but you?

a/n: these are formatted like headcannons + scenarios to match them! not necessarily like a fic unfortunately. but if you guys would want that, i'd be glad to write something along those lines. enjoy!

at first, it was just something small. something so, so extremely small. maybe sometimes, she would look a little too good after practice. the way the wisps of her hair would stray out of her braid, her arms glistening in sweat and her shirt practically see-through from how hard she worked in the gym prior to her practice. or maybe it was the way she constantly towered over you, how she looked down at you when you two spoke, or how her arms carried everything and anything effortlessly, toned and muscular.

you don't know if you were just fucking imagining it or what, but holy, fucking, shit.

was it just your brain fucking with you? maybe you were just desperate or something?

you didn't know. but you were embarrassed to admit the fact that you were completely, and utterly infatuated with your 100% platonic best friend that you definitely should not be and definitely aren't swooning over. she was just a friend, and for gods sake, your best friend at that.

she just came home to your dorm, which she's been staying at for a few weeks now, covered in sweat. her arm and leg muscles practically bulging from her jersey, about to burst the fabric at their seams with only that and a compression shirt under it, paired with shorts that you've probably borrowed from her, her hair in a messy braid; stray strands sticking to her face.

anyone would be sensible enough to drool at this shit. it wasn't your fault that you had a hot best friend. right? i mean- what?

okay, but you couldn't help it that she had really nice arms. really defined, muscular, beefy, strong, capable, sporty, hot, sexy arms. it was just a general thing. it definitely couldn't just be you. this is totally fucking normal for a 100% platonic relationship. like, yeah. this is literally just normal. its literally just normal.

soon, your stares burned into her back. she could practically feel the way your eyes lingered from her face, trailing to her arms, and all the way down to her thighs. turning around to face you, she inquires cluelessly as if she didn't plan this whole scenario out on purpose. "baby, you okay? you look...dazed or something." she says, sneaking in a smile once she turns around again to get herself a glass of water.

baby. baby? did you hear that right?

you probably heard it wrong. you snicker, "oh, yeah. yeah i'm..fine."

one of abby's big games were coming up. only one more game, and it would mean that her and her team finally won the whole season. usually, she'd be pumped to finally get to train for the moment she's been dreaming of since the season started, but something's been conflicting her. a certain someone. she's had a crush on you for at least 5 years now, but the crush has been at it's all time high ever since you've started wearing her jerseys, her hoodies, and her clothes this past semester. god, fuck it. why not offer for you to do it again?

lounging on abby's couch in nothing but her hoodie and some boxers of hers that you found lying on your side of the bed from when you slept over, you held your phone in your right hand, scrolling through tiktok, while you held a cup of coffee in the other. abby (very willingly) agreed to let you sleep over at her place for as many nights as you wanted, since your roommates aggravatingly threw parties all day and night long.

you were interrupted by the door abruptly creaking open, abby stepping through the door, still in her basketball gear. she set her things down onto the kitchen counter, taking her hoodie off, revealing a more comfortable shirt under. she joins you on the couch; lying on her stomach, making a groaning noise. "shit..arms fuckin' hurt." she says, muffled whines getting silenced by the pillow she stuffed her head in.

you chuckle at her childishness. she's kinda always been like that, hasn't she? "too bad." you say, to which she frowns with a slight pout, looking up at you, wanting you to change your answer. you have no choice but to oblige. "-whatever. what can i do to help?" you ask in a playful tone, flashing her a smile.

she gets up from her position almost immediately, sprinting to her bedroom and grabbing her jersey before quickly running back to the living room and throwing the jersey in your face as if she planned this. "wear this to my next game." she says in a half-laughing, cocky way. you desperately pry the piece of fabric off of your face, trying to process what just happened. "no fuckin' way abs." you say, teasing her. you take a look at the shirt. it had 22 on the front, with ‘anderson’ printed on the back.

she frowns, sighing as she flops next to you, snaking her arms around you and stuffing her face in your shirt (in a definitely 100% platonic way). "c'mon." she says, "need someone to cheer f'me. js' wanna see my girl cheer for me. it would make me so happy."

you chuckle at 'my girl', "abs. this isn't helping with the rumors about us."

she accidentally blurts out, "don't fuckin' want it to."

...what?

before she knows it, and before you two could even talk about what she just said to you a few days before, it was finally game day. screams and cheers of girls who came just to see abby stretched from one part of the arena to another, echoing in your eardrums. you said you weren’t going to, but of course you wore her fucking jersey anyway.

abby looked into the crowd of people, searching for you desperately. she couldn’t play without you watching :’((.

about to give up on finding you, she feels two hands come around the side of her torso, hugging her from behind. she turns around to see you. wearing her jersey.

“you better win, i’m not parading your name on me for nothing.” you say sarcastically.

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby tlou #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou smut #abby anderson smut #abby the last of us #tlou2 #tlou fanfiction #abby fanfiction #wlw #wlw yearning #wlw ns/fw #wlw community #lgbtq

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ma1dita · 2 days

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when the curtains close

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 5.3k

summary: (post-tlt) The one where you lose two people in the Labyrinth that day. All strings are cut. (Pollux, Annabeth, Percy, and Mr. D find out the biggest difference between you and Luke.) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: yeah to me this fic sounds and feels like that tiktok of the girl humming to her microwave. split povs: pollux, annabeth, your depictions of the titular battle of the labyrinth at CHB, some blood/gore, death & grief. the usual. you forced me to by lizzy mcalpine. references to cat on a hot tin roof by tennessee williams if you squint

(posted 5/14/24, semi edited—def coming back to this)

—

The first time Pollux has a panic attack, time seems to stop and the world keeps moving on without him.

He’s reminded of a time when you rambled on about how anxiety takes possession of the senses like a moment frozen in a snapshot meant for you to identify. In the memory, you had your feet kicked up on the dash flipping through a DSM-5 while he and Castor took turns speeding up and down Farm Road (totally normal older sister behavior from you, and when a cop pulled you over, the three of you narrowly escaped a ticket by talking in riddles and godly smoke that smelled like grapes). Pollux still remembers the sound of laughter in the car blending like three different chords to an archaic melody (or squawking crows in the strawberry fields)— the bond between you three laid out before time knew limits and was always meant to be.

It’s still his favorite song. You’re their favorite (and only) sister, they love to joke. These are facts that will never change.

“You two have each other, and well, I’ve got this,” you had said, the Zippo flicking open and closed against your thumb in the blossoming darkness of the car. Pink and purple rays of waning light blanketed the old hatchback as it steadily made its way back towards Half-Blood Hill, comfortable silence shared in the way only siblings can stand to be quiet—when there are no words needed to get a point across. But you’ve always set yourself apart from the pack, not needing anyone like how they need each other.

Not since Luke left, at least. The growing distance between you three since your untimely resignation from camp was proof enough. Pollux’s eyes met Castor’s in the rearview mirror as they both noticed your sad smile. His brother’s voice broke through the silence then, having always been the one blunt enough to say what was on his mind, “You’ve got us too if you let us see you more often.” Your fidgeting stops.

“It’s not you two, it’s just hard to be back here sometimes. I see things for what they used to be instead of how they really are now. Now it’s just… it has to be all business.”

Pollux cracked a smile, “S’what you get for growing up. Soon we’ll just be annoying voices in your head like you are to us.” Shutting your textbook, you turned to look at them from the passenger seat, eyes that match theirs darting between their blond heads, “All of us have to grow up eventually. Except maybe you two— I prefer you in my nightmares like the kids from The Shining. Whenever you get sick of Dad, come see me. Gods know that camp deserves a break from the two of you too.” Your knuckles knocked against both of their heads affectionately as he put the car in park, “My built-in bodyguards, huh? Always looking out for me.”

All words and meaning escape Pollux now as he stands in the greenery of the North Woods with battle gear ill-fitted to his large frame. It’s the first siege he’s ever taken part in, the first time he’s had to use battle strategies outside of Capture the Flag and the first time he’s slashed his way through monsters and demigods with the intent to try and kill or be killed. Sword and Shield could have never prepared any of them for this—as his eyes meet Castor’s and then yours with all of you thinking the same thing, the three of you join the sea of iridescent orange through mind-numbing black moving like a sharp three-pronged sword.

This type of stuff isn’t typical for him, he thinks. He and Castor are used to being comedic relief— being the source of laughs and juice boxes for pesky little campers instead of facing the real world outside the boundaries of the Mist. Perhaps your father babied them to make up for the time he lost with you, but there’s a moment where he wonders how being kept soft will keep him alive in a world as harsh as this one.

Childlike innocence is ripped away from them in the bubble they’ve inhabited until this moment. Home is now a warzone and like lambs set up for slaughter, the twins both turn to look at you as a shuddering gasp leaves your mouth at the carnage in your surroundings, monster blood and fallen friends and enemies at your feet. Breaking away from formation to take a deep breath, he looks at the sky and wonders where your father is, but smoke and soot fill his lungs and he coughs desperately for a breath of fresh air.

Pollux thinks he must have stopped breathing before Castor took his last breath. It wasn’t supposed to be a competition, but sometimes life was just funny like that.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Just like you told him.

Castor was always the more manic one while Pollux knew how to endure. Children of Dionysus are forced to befriend insanity before it makes an enemy out of them—twisting the ugly into what’s real and creating something beautiful out of the deranged. You’ve shown the boys how you detach from emotion by recognizing the details—separating fact and fiction, a methodical process only describable by the blood that runs through your veins. Pollux doesn’t know where to start—everything happens so fast but it plays out in front of him like someone put the pieces together to a stop-motion animation.

He sees Castor’s sword fall to the ground when he gets slashed on the forearm and sees him get clubbed over the head with a metal weapon he’s only seen bad renditions forged for theater practices and hanging on the walls of the armory. Castor falls first to his knees, and then into the dirt with a thud. He never knew there could be that much blood coming out of a person, much less a mirror image of himself. Pollux sees your face come into his line of vision, deep maroon splatters on your face glittering with hints of ichor and then you’re moving because he can’t. The enemy is coming back for him now, and for a moment he wonders if Castor will be mad if he lets him. He sees you turn in an instant, swinging your sword down on the neck of the aggressor, a teenager not much older than he and his brother are—were. It’s funny how his brain immediately makes the switch to past tense, and how he can’t stop thinking about how he’ll now and forever be older than his twin. Pollux then sees you catch the body of the boy you just killed as life seeps out of him slower than it did for Castor.

It doesn’t make him feel any better, though.

His knees hit the ground next to his twin, touching the sludge of dirt soft like quicksand and moist with what he hopes is not blood, but Pollux is not quite sure of what else there is to hope for. His fist is wrapped around Castor’s shirtsleeve, touching faded orange and sweat as he holds on for dear life. Maybe if he tries hard enough his soul will still be intertwined with his. Your hand touches his shoulder, five fingers reaching out to brush the back of his neck and the feeling of your skin helps him refocus a bit, even if you’re saying something he can’t make out. Then the metal of your Zippo lighter feels cool to the touch within his palm and he knows what he needs to do.

The battle isn’t over, but for the three of you, everything stops here. There is no going forward without your brother. You were never meant to be children of war.

Pollux hears the sound of his heartbeat thundering through his ears, blood rushing through his veins and can’t help but notice the silence amid the chaos. There are no words fit for this—and even if there were, Castor and you were always the more talkative ones. He hears the spark of the purple flame between his fingers, blowing the smoke over him and his brother’s body, and their father’s powers blanket them like how you used to tuck them into bed, warm and safe. This is what your family is—unconventional and unending even in different realms of existence. And then Grover’s scream of panic echoes through the air and everyone hears that. Hysteria ensues as monsters and demigods alike run amok, and Pollux realizes he’s stopped shaking. In his father’s domain, he will always find comfort.

You stand above him now directing campers calmly with a free hand—a brewing storm crackling underneath your skin that he now understands. Hidden by the illusion of smoke, Pollux’s tired bones rest alongside his brother’s dead ones— together as they always were meant to be.

The three of you together, his little family—that is a fact he hoped would never change.

The smell of grapes envelops him as he leans his forehead against your muddy leg… when did the battle end? It almost masks the scent of death that rips through the air as your hand brushes through his sandy hair. Pollux stinks of sweat and you stifle a laugh as you see him smell his armpit. You three were always the same type of fucked up. He doesn’t look down at Castor laid across his lap but knows he would’ve found it funny too. Ignorance of reality even for a moment serves as a comfort. Purple meets purple as he looks up at you with a smile that doesn’t fit his face anymore and he croaks, “Wonder what dad would say about our first battle…”

Glory was never meant to be this bittersweet—it tastes like blood in his mouth until he wipes it away from his cheek and realizes it’s Castor’s. In a way, it’s his too, everything about him and within him is exactly the same down to the star stuff the fates wove them from.

“I’ll be the one to tell him. You take care of Castor,” you answer, as if there’s anything else he would want to do and then he realizes you’re crying— and he’s seeing all of the pieces put together in front of him in this photograph in his mind.

Pollux blinks slowly.

Suddenly the image he has of you is more defined— there is new meaning to the sadness you could never shake off all these years, and he is too young to lose his greatest love, which makes him realize then that so were you.

How long does this have to go on? he wonders, grabbing onto your hand with an eagerness only comparable to the feeling he got when you and Luke whisked him and Castor away from Florida all those years ago. This punishment of living while half of his soul does not—what is he supposed to do next? This was supposed to be the safe place. There is nowhere left to run. His thumb rubs circles into the back of your shaking blood-soaked hand, a secret within the smoke.

Pollux thinks there will always be a part of him frozen in time now, a memory of this day hung up in his mind like a portrait as he holds Castor’s cold hand in his warm one.

—

Annabeth finds you in the middle of the strawberry fields before the sun sets. She knows you won’t be sleeping tonight, not if you can fight it— not when there’s so much to do. You’ve long grown out of your ripped-up and tie-dyed camp shirts, and the one slung on your frame is newly pressed and starchy from the storage room of the Big House, still stiff against your freshly washed skin. When she’s close enough to touch you, you’ve been scrubbed clean of today.

She doesn’t have to be a daughter of Athena to know that you know that she’s there even if you can’t see her, but for once she feels like she has to hide. For once, Annabeth Chase doesn’t know what to say. How can she explain the feeling of guilt that coils around her brain like barbed wire—how can she even begin to apologize for the thing wearing her brother’s skin, knowing that it killed yours? For once, her hubris is crushed by the sinking feeling of humiliation.

“Was your first quest all you thought it would be, Annie?”

As she takes her navy cap off, silver braided strands around her face wave in the wind as a reminder of what Luke put her through. Though as she looks at you now with your berry-stained fingers plucking at stems one by one instead of using your powers, she thinks that your mind is elsewhere—anywhere but here, where everything is a painful reminder of your five years as a camper.

Five years with Luke.

Mourning him isn’t a new feeling for either of you, even though he comes in and out of your lives like a poltergeist you want to bash across the head, just always out of reach. But he’s a constant, even when he’s not here and he’s what binds you two together as you huddle hidden away from the rest of camp.

“He did this for you.”

It’s not a question, more so a fact out of Annie’s mouth when you finally meet her eyes and sigh, “Luke’s always had a way going about things. The most stubborn man to ever live.” You toss another strawberry into the crate at your feet. No one’s working right now, trying to tend to the injured and the dead. Everyone’s doing their best to chase away the nightmares that are bound to come, and she knows you’ll be making rounds with her on the night shift to ease everyone’s anxieties. But there’s a thought so strong it makes her head hurt, bursting at the seams until she can’t stop with her last-ditch effort to fix her found family.

“Maybe if we find him, we can save—”

“He’s been out of time for a while now, Annabeth. We both knew that,” you say, voice firm and unwavering. You’ve never sounded so monotone before, and it hits her as her mouth falls agape, “You’re giving up on him? Why…why would you give up on him?” Anger courses through her veins like fire and she’s mad that she’s at the center of this prophecy, of Hermes’s anger for his doomed son who will love you until the ends of the earth.

And what of her?

What of the hope she has in happy endings, how is it that you’re so damn calm? Annabeth kicks at the crate, strawberries rolling out in different directions and your jaw tightens as you let her be petulant, let her scream and yell until her inner child can catch up with the reality of the world around you.

“How could you?”

Your name echoes as she repeats it, grabbing at your shoulders and she’s as desperate as the truth that shakes her when you cup her face in your hands and wipe her tears.

“You’ve carried the weight of the world Annabeth– you know what it feels like to let it go. It’s time to let him go. There’s nothing I can do or say to fix this.”

Then it hits her that you knew of his fate and yet this was still the outcome. There was nothing else to do but watch him be puppeteered by a Titan and have to fight evil while it wears his face.

“He came to you after he saw me, didn’t he? Why didn’t you tell me? Why don’t you love him anymore?”

Because it wouldn’t have changed a thing, your eyes say. Instead, you grimace as you say, “Wouldn’t that be funny if it were true?” You lean down and pick up the fallen berries, some bruised and covered in dirt, and then you look at her again with teary eyes.

“Some prophecy huh? To lose a love to worse than death. What could we have done besides love him until the end?”

“He’s still in there. I know you know that too. Don’t talk about him like he’s not,” Annabeth insists, and a sad smile settles upon your face. It’s as gentle as the kiss of the breeze on your cheeks.

“I lost a brother today, Annie.”

“Me too.”

—

The funny thing about planning funerals is that with all the fuss it takes to organize one, you still find extra time on your hands. Barely getting any sleep and dragging yourself out of your dad’s bed, Pollux snores loudly next to you after hours of working on Castor’s shroud. Sleep wasn’t expected for either of you, but being unconscious was the only way of giving your brains a reprieve. The both of you have been busy doubling down on the preparations, even if it means Mr. D won’t be back in time while he’s out rallying gods for war.

The faster Castor’s earthly body is reconnected with his soul, the easier his trip will be into the Underworld, Nico says, and it’s funny how comforting the little emo pipsqueak can be when it comes to matters of death.

Perhaps this is the solace you bring to others with things you’re able to control—keeping camp afloat is something you were always good at, and helping every traumatized child that comes up to you for a juice box or a lullaby eases the guilt that follows you. Walking around Camp Half-Blood for more than a weekend made you feel like a judge, jury, and executioner. Though most of the campers from almost five years ago have either aged out, defected, or died—the ones that remain still look at you like you’re trouble.

Perhaps you always will be.

You even found yourself with the time to pray to Hermes last night for your brother’s safe passage into the afterlife, though if he’s angry at Annabeth, he must hate you for letting Luke go. Dinner didn’t seem appetizing enough anyway, so your whole plate was tossed into the hearth. You hope he likes chicken and rice.

But if a god can’t fight fate, what did he expect you to do?

The Iris Message to your dad last night was difficult, to say the least. Pollux’s hands shook as he continued to paint grape vines onto the silk cloth and the both of you didn’t say anything when your father started to cry. He out of all of the gods knows what it’s like to be tested to the limits—to endure pain and it’s a gift you and your brother are grateful for in times like these. Watching the god display the human emotion that either of you couldn’t as freely made it more real though.

There was also the interesting predicament of Chris Rodriguez being locked up in the basement of the Big House. Replacing screaming fits with serenity was almost second nature, and your gentle hands were what got Clarisse to truly respect you again for the first time in years. You could hear her sneak downstairs and talk to him while he slept (and the look in her eyes when you’d greet her with a cup of coffee made it known to you that she finally understands what it means to love someone who’s lost—two demigod daughters filled with a lot of rage and hurt were more alike than they think).

So the morning of your little brother’s funeral, you found yourself on the shoreline of Canoe Lake, setting your Redbull against the post of the dock and looking out onto the water.

You needed to do something with your hands. In the past few days, if your fingers were not occupied by pen and paper, a guitar, supply crates, or anything else that was helpful to others and all the more distracting for you, it’s been so easy to pick at any little thing. Perhaps it was your subconscious trying to reflect the damage on the inside, but today, your nail polish was chipped beyond belief. A small price to pay to not lose it without a signature boyish smile to ease your worries and amber eyes that could help you escape from the routine.

Running camp was always easier back then with your runaway boy and his scarred cheek.

How pathetic.

Crouched over in the sand, you plucked stones and filled your pockets with them. They knocked against each other — weighing your pockets down as you walked closer to the dock. Swinging your feet off the side and chucking them into the water, you could barely achieve a ripple.

It’s so quiet that you end up wondering if the rocks in your pockets would weigh you down to the bottom of the lake. It must be nice down there, to exist away from everything.

Bubbles surface slowly in front of you, then Percy’s head bobs in the water as he squints at you through sunlight.

“You chucked a rock at my head!”

A smile tugs at your lips, almost indiscernible but definitely there, “I was trying to skip them. Didn’t know you were doing water tricks in there, kid.” His grin gleams like freshwater pearls, pulling himself up onto the dock as his hand clasps yours. Shaking his sopping hair, Percy’s gangly frame sits next to yours like a wet bag of sand—all wrinkly and misshapen and sprinkling you with lakewater.

“Maybe next time don’t pick rocks the size of your fist. How many have you got in there? Your aim is scarily accurate,” he laughs and you huff and shake your head when his hand sticks into your pocket and takes out a few smooth ones to roll around in his hand. You mirror him, watching him skip a few stones into the water that reach a good distance before sinking into the depths of the lake.

There’s something sad about feeling comfortable to trauma dump on the teenage son of Poseidon, but with the way he grabs your arm at your third unsuccessful toss of a rock, you can’t do anything else but sigh.

“Why didn’t any of you call me, Percy?”

He was waiting for this question—it’s been banging around in his head since the beginning of Annabeth’s quest, and perhaps her talk with you yesterday didn’t go as expected so once again he’s left with the difficult part.

Things happen to turn out pretty difficult for him a lot, he's noticed.

Many things could have been made easier in the past few weeks: Ariadne being your stepmother and her blessing to you would’ve made the Labyrinth easier to navigate, and having another demigod to fight alongside him instead of a mortal girl would’ve been a plus too. But he looks at you with ocean eyes and a smaller smile that reminds you of how he looked at you when you dropped him off in Montauk the summer you met him and quit your head counselor job.

“You’ve already made a lot of difficult decisions. We weren’t sure if…”

The rotten wood beneath you creaks under your shifting weight as you turn to him, tucking your legs underneath your bottom.

“Didn’t think I could handle it?”

He shakes his head, “The opposite, actually. Annabeth has this notion that you’re the only one that can save him. You know, back on my first quest I met Luke’s dad and he told me something…”

You swallow instead of answering. There’s no way Percy is giving you Hermes’s advice right now. Somehow this feels like karmic retribution after years of spiting that asshole, and what he tells you next is more of a sign that it must be true.

“He said, ‘Do you know what that feels like? To be so close to someone you love knowing neither of you has any choice but to keep hurting each other?’ I didn’t get it then, but I do now.”

“With Luke and his mom?” you ask, picking at the remaining slivers of varnish on your thumbnail.

“With you and Luke. I didn’t call you, because… why would I want to see you hurt after everything?” Percy says this like it’s something he would do for everyone.

Perhaps it is, but the knot that forms in your throat feels as heavy as the boulder you almost sunk into his skull. He’s tall enough to lean your head against now, and you don’t mind the water spots that will form along the side of your funeral outfit. The shape of him it leaves will remind you of the little brother you gained through so much loss.

“Plus he has a new girlfriend. Absolute horse of a girl,” he jokes. It slips over your head but you still giggle, “I could’ve taken her.”

“I know, that was Grover’s worry. You’re prettier anyway…” Percy pauses, and then clears his throat, “You’ve always taken care of this place, y’know? Even after….I just think someone ought to take care of you.”

Your shoulder bumps against his as you finally skip a rock. It only bounces across the water twice and you think Percy might have had something to do with it, but you’re not bothered by the help this time around.

—

You wake up in the dark of night to see your dad looming in the doorway to his office. With drool and a post-it stuck to your cheek, he comes over to ruffle your hair in amicable silence.

“Hard at work or hardly working?” he chuckles, leaning over your shoulder to scan over the paperwork sorted into piles for him to sign from his absence.

“Hm. You wish,” you scoff, leaning against your arm as you look at him. He’s not in his usual eyesore of attire, wearing a clean-pressed suit with his hair slightly slicked back.

“You look good. The meeting went okay?”

“Grover will be. The Council of Cloven Elders? Not so much. Neither are the gods ready to take sides. Putting out little fires everywhere as we speak.”

The wheels of the office chair roll as you swing your feet, and if you both listen closely enough you can hear Pollux snoring upstairs. Chiron loved the earplugs you gave him.

Your father’s face smooths out a bit at the sight of you and the sound of his son’s breathing upstairs and he asks, “Are you? Good?”

A shrug slides off your shoulders, “How does one be good in a world like this one?”

A startling scream echoes off the walls of the Big House, rattling the floorboards from below as your father grimaces.

The work is never done for you two.

“Don’t look at me like that. It was worse when he first came here.”

“Don’t doubt it,” he mumbles, brushing lint off your shirt before he notices you’re donning neon orange. “Didn’t do laundry, princess?”

“Pollux and I haven’t gone back to our cabin since... I can wake him up if you—”

Mr. D shakes his head and goes to toss his body onto the couch against the window, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Dad? Do you think Chris is a bad person?”

A beat passes and you think he may have fallen asleep, but then his voice sounds like gravel scraping up his throat.

“I don’t think anyone can be bad, kid. I think it is more often that people get lost. What Rodriguez needs is someone to take hold of him gently, and hand his life back to him—you…Clarisse… that’s what we’re giving him.”

Now you’re silent, staring at the dust on his name placard at the edge of the desk.

“Do you think otherwise?”

He calls your name again, and you look up like you’re about to lie to him but don’t have the energy to.

“Princess, do you think you’re a bad person?”

He stands up and walks around to your side of the desk, sitting on the edge so you have to look at him.

“I killed someone. During the battle. Didn’t even think twice about it, slashed his neck as soon as Castor went down and…” you sniff. “I kill monsters, not children, Dad. How does that make me any different?”

The last time blood was on your hands like this it was Luke’s in the Garden of Hesperides. All these years later you ended up being right— the only person you vowed to get bloody for is Luke Castellan, and now in a twisted turn of fate, you’ve bloodied your hands because of him.

“Because you did it for your brother. There are no other explanations needed.”

He sees the exhaustion in your eyes, the drop in your shoulders, but your dad also sees the strength in your bones that spans generations and he knows you and Pollux are strong because you are both his.

“Humans believe in life everlasting—glory, as some call it, but they’re too focused on achieving it on earth instead of enjoying what life has to offer,” he scoffs, “Everyone has the guts to die, but no one has the guts to truly live. How sad.”

“His name was Rowan. Son of Hecate. I taught him how to whistle the summer I left. This is all my fault, Dad,” you say shakily as he comes near and pulls you into his side. He shushes you but you relent.

“Luke’s killing all these people to fulfill a promise he made for me. I’m just fucking disgusted with myself for being the cause of it all. What good life can I deserve when wherever I go I leave a trail of blood?”

Love and addiction must be so alike; to know that to be sober you can’t indulge in the vice ever again—not only does it hurt you, but others around you. But through the years you’ve always kept the taste of his name in your mouth, the feeling of his skin under your fingertips, and the knowledge of why he’s destroying the world so he can make you a better one. Insanity stems from fighting for so long that you embrace the pain; feeling something so intensely that when it consumes you you’re able to walk out the other side and wear it as armor.

Not everyone is hardwired to persevere. There are moments like a night like these where it would be easy to give up. Instead, you pour two glasses of whiskey you’ve conjured and hand one to your dad. You both sip on your drinks slowly, embracing the crawling feeling of the burn.

“Liquor is one way out and death is another,” your dad sighs blissfully. He almost looks rejuvenated by the alcohol he knows he’ll hear about from Zeus later, but perhaps the death of his son is a good enough pardon.

“For some of us, we don’t have to think about the answer.”

Mr. D grabs a pen off the desk and starts signing papers to do something with his hands, and then you speak again, “I think I’d rather die than for people I love,” and your dad’s attention whips to your blank face staring at the moon outside the window. “Instead of killing for them. I’ve never been a good soldier, Dad.”

Mr. D looks at you thoughtfully and wonders where all the time has gone that you sit there in front of him with more knowledge than him at your mortal age before saying, “You’re my daughter. You’re a fighter. Death is for chumps anyway.”

He lifts you by the arm to try to usher you up the stairs but you stay in his office chair swatting his hands away.

“Got work to do, you and I. Not getting rid of me until it’s done.”

“When are you going home?” he asks, pulling up a chair next to yours.

“I am home.”

You don’t look up from the papers you were filing, stubbornness leaking through your voice.

“If there is a war coming, I want to be home as much as I can. I’m finishing my last semester and I’ll be here before and after classes. You can’t stop me, dad.”

And he knows that too.

There is no such thing as leaving Camp Half-Blood for you.

Never for too long. Your love for it is scattered everywhere campers can see.

—

In all these years, you never believed I loved you. And I did. I did so much. I did love you. I even loved your hate and your hardness. - Tennessee Williams

#luke castellan x reader #trouble!verse #made by ma1dita ♥︎#pjo x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan angst

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mrwavellswaps · 2 days

Text

His Reward

Steven still couldn’t believe it had actually worked. The two jocks who used to bully him whenever he showed up at the local gym were now rubbing and worshipping his body as he slowly grew larger. Running their hands lustfully over his burgeoning muscles as newfound masculinity flooded Steven’s body.

Before all this Steven was nothing more than a thin twig of a dude. He’d been skinny all his life and even into his 20’s he’d found it hard to put on any kind of size. So eventually he’d decided to sign up to his local gym in an attempt to grow at least a little muscle. Just enough so that he could look in the mirror without thinking a moderate gust of wind could blow him away. Unfortunately it wouldn’t be that simple. Not only did Steven struggle to pack on muscle but it also happened that two jocks from his old high school frequently went to that very same gym.

Pete and Caleb had made Steven’s school life hell back in the day. Being the two biggest dudes in the school at the time, it wasn’t a surprise that they picked on a stick figure like Steven. Always trying to embarrass and insult him by telling him how he’ll never be a real man like them. And now here they were again at Steven’s local gym. Though they couldn’t bully him outright now due to the gym’s rules of course, they still tried their best to make Steven as uncomfortable as possible. Leering over at him and chuckling as Steven exercised, quickly taking a machine just as Steven was about to use it and just generally making any effort they could to give Steven the worst possible exercise.

The young and still lanky man heavily considered changing gyms to one further away or even quitting altogether. That is until he was visited by a strange man who just showed up on his doorstep one day. Mr Wavell, he said his name was. A gorgeous looking silver fox of an older man dressed in dashing clothes. Everything about him was so enchanting that Steven felt compelled to listen as the strange man pulled a strange vile out of pocket which he claimed to be a magical potion of some kind. Ordinary Steven would’ve thought this was complete nonsense and closed the door yet for some reason he found himself taking the vile as soon as it was offered to him completely free of charge. Only then did this Mr Wavell step inside Steven’s house, convincing the latter that they sit and have a cup of coffee as he explains exactly what the potion will do.

The next day Steven found himself at the gym with the vile in his pocket, now armed with the knowledge of what it should do. Of course Pete and Caleb were there as they almost always were. And just like always they attempted the same tactics they usually did to make Steven’s day as hellish as possible. The two hulking jocks were surprised however when Steven eventually strode right up to them without a drop of fear. The two men sneered down at the tiny Steven in an effort to intimidate him as he stood before them. Yet Steven only smiled as he took out the vile from his pocket, popped the lid off and drank the entire potion!

Both jocks were confused at first. That is until Steven’s eyes glowed a bright purple just before lunging forwards and reaching Pete. Before the meathead could react, Steven had wrapped himself around the bigger man’s meaty body before swiftly planting a kiss on one of Pete’s thick pecs. Immediately the hunk froze up before suddenly standing to attention as his mind went blank. Steven’s lips pressing against him had turned Pete into a complete slave to Steven.

“Pete! Grab Caleb so he can join you in being obedient.” Steven swiftly commanded, having seen for sure now that the magic potion actually worked.

Before Caleb could even react or process the situation, Pete was wrapping his arms around his former bro and holding him firmly in place. Caleb struggled naturally but it wasn’t nearly enough to stop Steven coming up to him with a wicked grin before kissing Caleb’s neck. And just like that both bullies had been turned into Steven’s play things… but that wasn’t all. This was only the beginning. The potion had a far more exciting effect to come.

With that Steven took both jocks by the hand and led them out of the gym where he proceeded to guide them back to his house. Once there he took the jocks inside and guided them to the living room where he commanded them both to strip down to their underwear. Even though they’d been his bullies, Steven still couldn’t help but drool at the sight of Pete and Caleb almost completely naked. Their hot hulking manly bodies on full display. Their bulges just begging to be squeezed. Steven almost still felt embarrassed taking his own clothes off in front of them just because of how tiny he looked beside them. But luckily that was soon about to change because as soon as Steven was down to nothing but his underwear as well, he gave the meatheads another order.

“Caleb and Pete. I want the two of you to start worshipping me. And as you do i want you to slowly transfer your size and masculinity over to me. Got it?” Steven commanded, the magic of the potion still flowing string through his veins.

“Yes sir…” Both jocks said dumbly in unison before making their way over to the puny man they’d made fun of for years before starting to rub his small boney body. Squeezing Steven’s skinny arms and shoulders gently as their hands exploded his form gently. All the while the two hunks began to imagine all their size and masculinity being drained into the tiny stick of a man.

Steven’s eyes began to widen with excitement and wonder as he saw the first few signs beginning to show. His once flat chest slowly began to grow as Pete and Caleb ran their hands over it. Steven’s arms finally started to show signs of actual biceps and triceps while his back and shoulders subtlety began to grow broader. At last after all these years Steven was actually growing larger and thicker.

It didn’t stop at his muscles however. As his arms, legs and torso slowly continued to enlarge, Steven began to notice other changes happening to his body. All his life he’d been smooth and hairless but that was now about to change as body hair started sprouting across his chest and stomach in a modest quantity. It spread down his forearms as well but it was nothing compared to his legs which grew hairy as fuck! Steven couldn’t believe his own eyes to the point where he began running his own hands along his body between Pete and Caleb’s just so he could get a feel of his new fur. It was incredible to say the least.

It was only after this change that Steven really started to notice the changes Pete and Caleb were undergoing as well. Not only did .they seem slightly smaller than before but almost all of their body hair was gone! They hadn’t been the hairiest of dudes before in fairness but now they were both completely smooth.

From there Steven just tossed his head back and allowed the transformation to continue in full force. Eager to see just how far it would go. And he wasn’t disappointed in the slightest. The more the two jocks rubbed and groped at Steven’s body, the more of their mass was drained away. Steven’s slowly adding more and more bulk onto his frame with every passing second. His chest developing into full on squeezable pecs. His thighs growing thicker and meatier. His ass plumping up with muscle into a much rounder shape. All the while Pete and Caleb continued to shrink.

Soon enough Steven began to feel the prickling of hair on his chin as stubble started growing across his face. He looked towards the faces of both jocks to see their facial hair quickly vanishing all the while his newfound stubble proceeded to grow and flourish into a thick full beard that simply radiated masculinity. The likes of which he never imagined being able to grow. He couldn’t help but smirk triumphantly while running both hands through it.

With every passing minute Steven’s body swelled more and more. A few inches were noticeably added on to his height, boosting him from his former 5’5 statue up to a very respectable 5’11. Meanwhile Caleb and Pete had lost about 3 inches each respectively making the three men all about the same height now. And slowly as Steven drained more and more muscle mass from the two meatheads, the scales began to tip in his favour. They were crossing the midway point and finally Steven was actually starting to look bigger! His pecs and biceps bulging bigger and bigger while his shoulders rounded out and his back grew more defined. He was becoming a total fucking hunk just like he’d always dreamed of being.

“That’s it boys…” Steven grunted in a noticeably deeper voice than before. “Keep worshipping and gimme all that fucking muscle and manliness you never deserved.” He demanded as his cock couldn’t help but throb. Only it wasn’t just throbbing. He could feel it growing longer and fatter as a thick outline made itself more and more visible through his underwear. All the while Pete and Caleb’s bulges diminished just like the rest of their bodies.

Steven was already feeling such an intense high of both power and dominance as his testosterone level rose. Getting probably the biggest rush of his life as he not only got to see the two men that’d made his young life a living hell slowly lose everything they’d worked so hard for but also watch as he took it all for himself. The feeling of his muscles actively growing and bulging larger by the second was an indescribable feeling adjacent to pure bliss. The sight of simply being able to look down and see his pecs heaving further forwards while they were worshipped was one that could make him cum on the spot any moment.

Steven closed his eyes and smiled. Was this his reward? For always trying to be a good person while having to put up with assholes like these two? Was that Mr Wavell acting as a conduit for the universe to give him what he truly deserved? Whatever the case he didn’t really care. All he knew was that he was gonna keep on draining Pete and Caleb until they were both skinny little twinks like he once was. By the end of which he would be a massive fucking beast of muscle. And he was gonna love slamming his enormous cock into their asses afterwards like the little bitches they were.

#male muscle growth #muscle theft #masculinity theft #muscle transfer #masculinity transfer #musclegrowth #male transformation #muscle worship #hairy #bearded #jock #nerd to jock #nerd to hunk #magic #male hypnosis #male hypno #mr wavell

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littlemissmiller · 2 days

Text

𝑳𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝑻𝒆𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒔

Pairing: javier peña x fem!reader

Summary: Javier is your partner while on assignment in Bogotá. You can’t seem to resist him, as much as you tell yourself you’re done fooling around with him. One night, he comes home and the next morning, you finally realize your true feelings for him…

Warning: 21+ (drinking and smoking), semi-rough sex, ass slapping, slight power play, dom!javier, sub!reader, oral(m and f receiving), partners/friends to lovers

Word count: 3.8k

A/N: surprise! it’s pedro! i hope y’all enjoy this just as much as the tom fics (which i appreciate all the support once again, exceeded my expectations). I had this one in the vault for a while, but just went back and edited it so here it is! i have another billy and coryo fic in the works, but a girl has got to diversify her blog page no? also i do plan to post more pedro stuff (given my blog name 😅)ok enjoy! ❤︎

☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎

“This is the last time Javier.” You panted as Javier Peña pushed you up against the wall of a small janitor’s closet. A frequent place you had found yourself in once again, fucking like teenagers. Everyone had left the office nearly, but you still didn’t want to get caught.

“Yeah you said that last time sweetheart.” He growled into your ear as he readjusted you, hoisting you up further onto the wall. Your legs were wrapped around his waist and he was fucking up into you. His pants were only down far enough to let his cock out and he continued to push your tight pencil skirt up over your thighs and hips. You moaned into his ear which caused him to pick up his pace.

“I mean it we…we can’t keep doing this.” You moaned as his lips attached to your neck. He smirked and looked back up at you. His hand slithered up your throat and cupped under your chin.

“Really? Is that why you decided to wear this tight little skirt today? To get me to stop?” He panted

“I always wear these…” you lied

“Yeah well what about this blouse then hmm.” His hand slid down your throat to tug on your collar and then slipped inside your blouse to cup your breast.

“You know I can see right through it don’t you?”

“Maybe I was trying to get someone else’s attention…”you croaked out

“Mmm I don’t think so sweetheart. I know other people are looking but they wouldn’t dare to touch you.” He replied

“Why is that?”

“You know why…” he breathed into your ear “because you’re mine…” he picked up his pace and soon enough you were both coming undone.

He held you in place for a while and rested his forehead against yours. You both panted in exhaustion, your breathing in sync. He planted a soft kiss on your cheek before pulling out and setting you back on your feet.

“You should grab a drink with me tonight.” He suggested as he stepped back, readjusting himself, stuffing his cock back into his jeans and buckling his belt.

“Javi…” you sighed, shaking your head and smirking as you buttoned up your blouse “you know my rules…”

Ever since you and Javier started hooking up, you were very explicit about how your relationship would be. You had told him you weren’t looking for a relationship, but he convinced you to be “partners with benefits”.

Your rules were clear. No going out to bars or dinner, no flirting in front of your colleagues, and nothing more than just sex. Those were the rules left anyways. Javier had a way of convincing you to break them. At first, you had told him no hooking up at work, but about two weeks later and one too many tight dresses, you had broken that rule. And the rule not to show physical affection to each other outside of your activities. He couldn’t seem to help himself around you. He would always wait until no one was around, but occasionally he’d plant a kiss on your cheek or come up behind you and plant one on the back of your neck. It would usually turn into more, but occasionally it was just in passing and very quick.

“C’mon we can go as just co-workers. Then it’s not a date”

You looked up at him and rolled your eyes. You slipped your heels back on and started to fix your hair.

“You know what I told you. I’m not looking for a relationship, especially not with you.” You looked at him pointedly and he frowned “besides if you and I get together who else is going to fuck the hookers Escobar likes the have around.” You have joked raising my eyebrow

He rolled his eyes.

“They are informants and I get very useful information from them”

“Oh besides how they like it” you smirked reaching for the door

Javier stopped you. His hand wrapped around your wrist. He looked at you and you looked back at him intensely, snapping your head in surprise and confusion.

“Are you jealous or something?” He asked

“No!” You laughed “besides we get good intel like you said.”

He released your wrist and grunted in agreement. He traced his hand over your own, moving it from your wrist to your finger tip. He moved his fingers around your palm and rubbed his thumb over your knuckles.

“You should still get a drink with me though” he insisted, continuing to stroke your hand. “Hmm…what do you say? He kissed your knuckles this time, which took you off guard but it wasn’t unwelcomed.

A part of you had put these rules in place mainly for yourself. You knew getting tangled up with Javier like this would be trouble and quite frankly a distraction. Maybe you needed a distraction, but with your own partner? Would that really happen? Maybe because you also knew, in the back of your mind, you had deeper feelings at play. You thought about it and, in that moment, you realized you were about to break one of your own rules again.

“Fine.” You started, dropping your hand to your side “just as co-workers thought. This is not a date or anything like a date.”

“Fine by me. Whatever you wanna call it.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. You opened the janitors closet and poked your head out. You looked around and stepped out. Javier followed after you.

“Let’s get going. And separate cars.” You commanded, looking at him seriously

“I figured.”

“Where are we meeting?” You asked

“That bar near your place. The one on the corner next to your apartment.” You answered

Of course he chose somewhere near your place. You thought he was gonna try and take you home with him after. Back to his place. You were wrong. You and him met at the bar and, what ended up being one drink became three, then a cigarette, and your night was pretty much set.

“This ain’t too bad hmm?” He asked

“I don’t mind getting a drink with you Javier. Just the principle of it I…struggle with”

He smirked at your answer “Is that so?” He slid his hand onto your knee which made you almost choke on the beer you were sipping on.

“Javi!” You gritted though my teeth in a low tone

“You said no flirting in front of co-workers or at work. Nothing about outside of work.” He smirked.

“I hope you understand that you’re not coming home with me tonight.” You remark pointedly

“Oh really why is that?” He asked rubbing my thigh

“Because we are just getting a drink as co-workers. Remember.”

Javier leaned back with a satisfied smirk on his face and downed his whiskey.

“You’re at least gonna let me walk you home?”

“It’s just around the corner.” You reminded him

“So?” He asked

“I’ll be fine, but I have feeling you’d follow me anyways” you joked

“You think I’m too overprotective of you?”

“Sometimes….” You looked at him and he looked at you not with lust but something else. A deeper longing and you knew in that moment what you had suspected for a while. Javier Peña seemed to have fallen for you.

He ended up walking you home and you begrudgingly let him in for “just one more drink” and soon after you found yourself back home with him, although you didn’t actually have sex. The two of you drank whiskey and just talked. Something you rarely found time to do. Simply connect with each other. You both sat on the couch, Javier took the liberty of your closeness to occasionally caress your thigh or play with your hair. It was simple, yet incredibly intimate. You and him eventually moved to your bedroom, where you cuddled up on him. Neither of you talked much after that. You simply lost yourself in that moment with him. You felt complete and your heart felt full. You slowly faded into sleep against him and without realizing it he had kissed your forehead several times after you had fallen asleep until he too drifted off.

When you woke up the next morning Javier was still asleep, sleeping on his stomach. You watched his back muscles as they rose and fell. He breathed heavily and you tangled your fingers loosely in his hair to try and wake him up. He kept sleeping, so you decided to take a shower. As the warm water poured over your head you thought about the way he looked at you the night before. His big brown doughy eyes that looked at you like a puppy dog. His hand on your leg, fingers playing with your hair and his charming smile. And the way you held each other until you both fell asleep. You realized that you liked him too. You had been resisting him and the idea of you two together. Especially given that you weren’t too sure how the DEA would feel about you and him having a relationship.

Would you not be able to work together catching Escobar worse get fired? You didn’t want to lose everything at work just to be with him, but you also couldn’t help but feel this way for him. Your thoughts are disrupted when you hear the shower curtain being pushed back. Javier stepped in behind you and came close, pressing his chest against your back. You kept your eyes closed as he wrapped his hands around your waist. He started placing light kisses on your neck and you reached up behind to cup his face. You could feel his cock getting hard on your ass and you reached down to stroke him. He groaned into your ear as he cupped your breasts.

“Mind if I stay?” He whispered

You spun in his arms and looked into his eyes. That same loving look from last night appeared on his face and you knew that he definitely had feelings for you too. There was no turning back now. For either of you. So you accepted that you were also in love with him and leaned into kiss him. It was passionate, with full force. He pushed your back against the shower wall, cupped your face with one hand while the other was planted on the wall beside your head. You moved up against him and moved your leg slowly up to his waist. He dropped his hand and immediately groped your thigh.

“Wanna stay in here or take this back to the bed?” He asked

“I don’t think we’ve ever done it in the shower before” you remarked

“We haven’t” he smirked

You reached back down the stroke his cock and smiled at him.

“Well Agent Peña…” you said as you continued touching him. “What do you want?”

His hands traveled along your body and settled on your waist. He spun you back around and pushed you back up against the shower wall, grabbing your wrists and holding them behind your back. You let out a breathy moan. You knew calling Javier “Agent Peña” turns him on. And you knew that it could make him go from the sweet man you cared about you so much, into a man hungry with lust. It makes him want to be in charge.

“I want you. And I suggest you behave. Got it?”

You moaned in agreement and nodded. He slapped your ass and tightened his grip around your wrists.

“Words sweetheart…”

“Yes sir…I’ll…I’ll be good” you reply somewhat begrudgingly.

Javier and you had this game sometimes when hooking up. You knew whenever you called him by his formal title, he was going to want to ravish you And you liked to give into him sometimes. Pretend you were a suspect or one of Escobar’s whores. It excited you, in a way you didn’t even know was possible. Makes you feel on edge and you like the anticipation that had control over you. Sex with Javier was usually always good, but when he was trying to find out where the next shipment was going to come in or where Escobar was going to be next he definitely had a few tricks up his sleeve. A few tricks to get girls to talk in bed.

Then he spun you back around as he grabbed your ass again. He rubbed his hand over it and slid it down in between your thighs. His fingers started rubbing your folds and you started melting up against the wall. Letting go of your wrists, he held you closer to him so your back was against his chest. He started pinching and twisting your nipples with his free hand. You let out a series of moans and whines. The hand in between your thigh snaked up and began to rub your clit. His fingers traced over it before pressing down and rubbing in a tight circle. You moaned and arched your back. He moved his hand across your sternum and pushed your back against his chest.

“Don’t move too much sweetheart” Javier demanded. “Just stay right here”

You held onto his biceps now that both of your hands were free. Your legs were shaking and everything around you was going fuzzy.

“Goddamn Peña you make me feel so good.” You whined

“I bet if you were actually one of Escobars girls I’d get information out of you real easy.”

You let out a mix between a moan and a laugh

“You flatter yourself Agent Peña”

With that he pushed you up against the shower wall some more you steadied yourself with your hands. You gasped in surprise at his sudden dominance. He pushed your legs open slightly, his hand grabbing the insides of your thighs. Then you felt the tip of his cock push into you and gasped.

“Would you tell me now?” He asked nipping on my ear lobe

“You’re going to have to do more than that to get anything out of me”

With that he pushed all the way inside you. He felt so full, so big. You couldn’t help but let out a long, staggering moan, but you weren’t about to say anything to him, about how good it felt. Not even say his name. It’s what he was trying to get out of you in this little game of yours. He started pumping in and out of you slowly at first, but he soon picked up his pace. You only let out a few soft moans as he worked his hips against your ass. You weren’t going to let him win that quickly, yet the pleasure was agonizingly good. He started pounding into you and you could barely contain your whimpers. His hand came down and sharply landed on your ass. He smacked it again and again. Each time you couldn’t help but let him hear you.

“Got more to tell me sweetheart?”

You shook your head and he growled into your ear

“C’mon now I know you wanna talk to me. At least tell me how good it feels”

You didn’t reply and he smacked your ass one last time. He pulled out abruptly, spun you around and turned the water off.

“I know what will make you talk…” he smirked

You stared up at him doe eyed, somewhat confused and scared and somewhat in anticipation. He pulled the curtain back then scooped you up into his arms. You wrapped your arms around his neck and legs dangling from the crook of his elbow. He held your naked body against his tightly and walked back into your bedroom. He threw you down on the bed and you let out a slight yelp. He crawled on top of you and started kissing you again.

“If you won’t talk to me from me fucking you…then I guess I’ll just torture you with my tongue.” He whispered

He worked his way down your entire body, kissing every inch slowly. He was methodically in his actions. Kissing, sucking, and nipping on your flesh like an animal that just caught its prey. He slowly reached your core and began teasing the inside of your thigh with his lips and tongue. Your hand moved down to grab his head and move him where you wanted. He bit down on your thigh, giving it a hard slap, and looked up at you.

“If you want me somewhere specific you’re gonna have to use your words.”

You groaned in response

You watched him as he went back to teasing you. His mouth drew closer and closer to your clit, until finally. Your hips bucked up in his face slightly as he flicked his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves. He held you down and started really going for it. He ate you out like he was starving for you. Javier lapped you up, sucking and teasing your core. His tongue was relentless and kept bringing you closer and closer to the edge. He could sense it too. So he kept you on edge for a while. Javier pulled back, gawking at you as your eyes and pouty lips silently begged him to return his mouth to your slit. He slowly rubbed you as he admired you. He stroked himself with his free hand and bent back down to kiss your thighs.

You squirmed when his lips touched your skin again, so desperate to cum for him. Javier kissed your clit again, his soft affectionate demeanor driving you crazy. You wanted to cry out, but you held back, still remembering that he’s trying to coax you into telling him how good he makes you feel. How bad you crave him. Javier made eye contact with you as he tasted you, his tongue delicately danced over your folds. You bit down on your lip hard, eyes never leaving his. He pulled back again, catching his breath. He rubbed your clit again as he looked at you.

“C’mon baby. Why don’t you tell me how good it feels hmm? C’mon let me hear you.” Javier nearly begged but you just shook your head. His face changed as he scoffed at you.

“Fine. Gonna be a stubborn little thing hmm? Two can play at that game.” He said, removing his fingers. You buck your hips up at the loss of his hand, your face scrunched up disappointment. He sat up on his knees and beckoned you to him. You crawled forward, eyes never leaving his. With his cock in one hand, he stroked the side of your face

“Well if you're not going to speak, then maybe you can use your mouth in a different way hmm?” He suggested. He cups your face and draws you close to his crotch.

You opened your sweet little mouth, and he traced your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. You opened and took him into your mouth. He was so big, and you could feel the tip as it prodded the back of your throat. You gagged slightly and he cooed at you. He pumped into you, loving the way your lips became fat and plumb. He held the back of your head and he continued moving his hips. Javier tilts his head back in bliss, his grip getting slightly tighter in your hair. He looks down for a moment, reaching for your ass and giving it a firm squeeze.

“Fuck that’s good.” He quipped. He looked back down at your mouth then back up at your ass. He ran his hand in-between your cheeks and started to rub your slick folds. His actions caught you off guard and you popped your mouth off his length. You moaned and gasped as your legs started to give out.

“Oh there she is. Can’t help it now hmm? Come on, tell me how good it feels.”

You held back for as long as possible, biting down hard on your bottom lip until you can’t help it anymore.

“Mmm mmm ooh fuck Javi fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck..” you finally cried out, your legs shaking uncontrollably. You duck your head down, face against the mattress as Javier made you cum. You convulsed on his hand. He smiled, his satisfaction ever so apparent.

“Thaaaats it. Oh fuuuck, you’re so pretty baby. So pretty cumming for me like this” he moaned

You stared back up at him, eyes slightly wet and glossy from having him down your throat. With a finger under your chin, he guided your lips back up to his. As he kissed you, he gently pushed you back on your back and you spread your legs for him. He wanted to tease you still, catching you while you're still a babbling mess. He rubs your clit as he pushes himself inside you. It was overwhelming at first, and you clenched around his cock.

“Javi…I-I oh fuck your gonna make me cum again” you squealed

“Good. Tell me who makes you feel good hmm?”

“Y-you Javier ok. You win you win you win, I fuck, I-I…”

“Go on. Say it. Say it to me.”

“I want you. Not just, not just like hooking up…I want all of you please…please…”

The admission stumbled out of you and you almost regretted it as you said it but Javier simply smiled. As he pumped into, he leaned down and kissed you

“Ohh I want you too. I have for a while.”

His passion overtook him and he sped up his hips. He was practically possessed, letting his brain go numb as he continued to drill into you. Your fucked out face gawked at him, continuously looking at his face and then at the place where his cock had entered you. The feeling of pleasure consumed you, he felt so full and deep in you. You never wanted this to end and neither did he. Javier kissed you frantically, savoring you.

“That’s all I really wanted this whole time. To know you wanted me too.” He whispered

You nodded and he pumped into you more deliberately.

“Christ baby you feel so good. Not gonna last much longer.”

Mhmm go on. Fill me up. Fuck pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease…” you beg over and over again until he came. His cum spilled into you, feeling warm and filling. He took a moment to catch his breath, kissing all over your face as he did.

“Mmm Javier, we’re going to be in so much trouble…” you muffled as he kissed you

“You really think…” he kissed you “that we should worry about that” he kissed you again “right now. In this moment”

You sighed against him and shook your head

“I hope you have a plan for figuring this out.”

“You know I’ll figure it out baby.” He smiled cockily

He cupped your face and continued to kiss you over and over again. You slowly melted into his touch and so did your anxiety. At that moment you didn’t care. You had him, as much as you had tried to resist him, you wanted him and now, now you had him.

꧁✹❂✹꧂

#javier peña #javier pena x reader smut #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #javier pena x you #javier pena smut #fan fiction #javier pena fic #smut #fan fic smut #narcos

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redbleedingrose · 2 days

Text

Heavens Above ~ Rhysand x Reader

A/N: a mini fic if you will. ig could be a drabble, but it felt like longer than a drabble. love yall sm and I hope you enjoy!

Imagine FWB!Rhys who is secretly madly in love with you who whisks you away to the cabin after the ginormous party he insisted on throwing for your birthday.

And basically, he makes you some hot tea and stokes a fire in the living room bc its freezing, regardless of the time of year, the Illyrian territory is half tundra. The snow is falling heavily enough that the ground is completely coated in sparkling white fluff.

And Rhysie whips out a slice of cake from thin air, your favorite kind mind you, and insists on feeding you and him from the same fork while you snuggle under a warm blanket.

Once you're done with your cake and tea, he thumbs away some stray frosting off the side of your lip, poor male can never keep his hands to himself. His eyes of amethyst sparkling with something you cant place flickering back and forth between your own before leaning in and pressing soft kisses to your lips that quickly become more and more heated.

Soon enough, he is plucking you off the couch, not even having to stop from sucking marks into your neck while you bury your face into his shoulder, shuddering at his strokes to your thighs as he carries you to the bedroom.

He tosses you onto the bed, exposing his wings to you, a rare but welcome sight, they flare against the cold, the delicate membrane quivering as the dark of night rolls off his broad tattooed shoulders. You eye the way his hands ease their way up your legs, his veins bulging as he grips your thighs apart.

And usually, your nights together are spent with rough, hot intimacy. But tonight? Tonight, he takes his sweet time with you. Peppering soft kisses over every exposed inch to your skin, gripping every soft curve of yours like he can't get enough of you, his hips rocking against yours in a slow symphony that only you two can hear. The way he takes you over and over, he takes you apart in every way and puts you back together. He watches the way you quake against him, your legs around his waist pulling him closer while your arms cling to his shoulder and he can't remember seeing anything so beautiful. He finds the entire universe in you and lets himself fall apart so you can piece him back together.

And well...

When he wakes you at 3am with his arm rubbing at your bare shoulder and face nuzzling into your hair as you cling to his bare chest, you're quite grumpy to say the least.

Nonetheless you pout as he insists you wake and get dressed, even helps you put on your gigantic coat and tucking the scarf his mother knitted for him once around your hickey littered neck before pulling your fists away from the rubbing at your eye to kiss them. He turns around and kneels down, chuckling at your quiet grumbles and mumbles, tugging you onto his back so he can carry you outside. His heart warms as you hush up to stuff your face into his back and stroke your warm mittens against his chest.

After a couple minutes of him trekking you both through the snowy forest, the moon and stars illuminating your path, he stops at the mountain edge. You're nearly passed out once he comes to a stop, his furnace of a body, the beat of his heart against your palms and the soft crunching of the snow under his feet lulling you into a quiet slumber. You only rouse when he whispers your name into the night, "Look up darling," settling you down before tucking your back into his chest.

And there you see it.

The Auroras of Illyria.

A rare phenomena. One witnessed only every couple of centuries.

The first time he was able to catch a glimpse of them, he witnessed it alongside his sister and mum.

And now, he witnesses it with the you. He smiles to himself as you gape up at the sky and lays kisses to the top of your hair, the purple and green solar rays a sight shared with the only most important and beloved females in his life. Once, his sister and mother. And now you.

And its that same night where he tugs off your left mitten while you focus on the heavens above you, and slides his mothers ring onto your fourth finger, the souls twirling through the aurora a witness to the promise of his love and devotion for you.

Anyway, heheheh. This was in honor of the auroras. I wasn't able to see them with my own eyes, but I was able to capture some pictures of them. It was beautiful.

Check out more of my stuff: Rhysand Masterlist, Main Masterlist

#rhysand x reader #rhysand acotar #rhysand fanfic #rhysand imagine #rhys x reader #rhys headcanons #acotar #acotar fanfic #acotar imagines #acotar night court #rhysand x you #rhysand x y/n #rose writes

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annwe24 · 2 days

Text

Part 1!DEVOTION

Part 2

CREATOR!LUCIFER X READER

Summary: You feel trapped in the luxurious cage that Lucifer created.

Reading in dim light isn't really a good idea. Your eyes feel itchy and letters are running all across the page. Huffing in annoyance, you unwillingly close the book to go to sleep. Tonight is not just it, perhaps the lack of sleep has finally caught up to you. Your pillow feels a bit rocky as the book is carefully tucked under. That night, your dreams are made of angels joyfully singing their symphony, unaware of the angelic eyes watching your sleeping form.

Morning comes by as usual. You are woken up by the sweet smell of hot pancakes and the sight of a pair of neatly folded clothes thrown onto your bed. Lucifer has always insisted that you let him take care of almost everything around the house. You obviously don't agree. However, morning is something you would gladly give in. A big reason being his signature pancakes and the other being you don't have to wake up too early. Hastily put on the clothes he has put together for you, you rush to the kitchen, wanting to have breakfast as soon as possible.

Good morning! Did you sleep well? Lucifer cheerfully greets you with a toothy grin.

Very well! Are you going to be in the workshop today?

I’m afraid not, my dear. You see, Charlie insisted that we must make plans for the upcoming extermination.

Can I come too?

Your question makes Lucifer halts his cooking. You have expected this. He is always reluctant about you doing anything Heaven related, trying to steer your gaze elsewhere as if Heaven is the forbidden fruit of Hell. At least, that’s what it is in his eyes.

I’m sorry, sweetheart. You know what it is.

But don't you think it's time I-

Anne. We’ve talked about this.

Okay…

Lowering your head, you patiently wait for the food. You know better than to make any moves with that hint in his voice. It is one of his turnoffs that you come to notice during decades of living with him; even Charlie, his daughter, wouldn't have caught it on the spot like you. Lucifer once said: No one has known me quite like you.

…

I had a really shitty day.

Lucifer says as he slumps his head onto your shoulder. Pulling the blanket closer to the both of you, you let out an acknowledged hum:

Mind telling me what went wrong?

That fuck head radio demon. Do you know him? I think his name is Alastair? Nevermind that. Nothing important. His jackass thinks he can just simply swoon over Charlie and convince her I’m replaceable. Ugh can't fucking believe that.

You don't… normally swear. I guess that demon is pretty rough huh?

Lucifer lets out a huff and turns up the volume of the TV:

Yeah…

Tonight is just one of those movie nights: Lucifer talks over the movie about anything to you. Today is just one of those days. Every day is the same. You are a being yet incomplete as a being. You realize you are barely alive. He chooses your clothes. He cooks your food. He soothes your pain. He is everything. Slowly, everything around you doesn't make any sense. The noise coming from the tv becomes static and Lucifer’s voice seems so distant. Why are you even created? Is your sole existence destined to be some sort of amusement for the King? And why is he so avoidant about Heaven? Are you the problem?

Y/n. Y/n!

You immediately snap out of your messy thoughts. Something about Lucifer always manages to pull you right back. Placing a hand on your shoulder, he asked with a worried voice:

Did something happen?

You quickly turn your head to look at him. Your eyes filled with panic:

Oh! I think I’m just sleepy. Yeah… That's all.

Still, you know better than anything that is not enough. Nothing is enough for him, especially if it’s something from you. He lets out a pitiful smile and quietly turns off both the tv and the light, steps out of the bed. Before heading out, he doesn't forget to say his usual goodnight to you. How ironic. You think. He knows you are not going to have a good night. However, you greatly appreciate the personal space he gives you. You give in to exhaustion and slump back to the bed. Like a habit, you reach out to take your book under the pillow. Last night, you left at the most interesting part-the dawn of humanity. Excitement fills you to the brim just thinking about-

There is no book.

Refusing to believe the loss, you throw the pillow out of your sight, only to be greeted with disappointment. Many scenarios play out inside your little head. There is no doubt this is the work of Lucifer. He must have known from the beginning and let you slip through for a while. You can't bear to imagine the things he would do if he losed control. Self-control is one of his greatest strengths. Although, you are not so sure about that right now. After evaluating everything, you decide that it is best to sleep right now and deal with the problem in the morning. That night, your dreams are made of demons gawking and gnawing at your frail form, unaware of the angelic eyes watching your sleeping form. Every day is not the same anymore.

#hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer imagine #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar fanfiction #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer #lucifer angst #hazbin fanfic #hazbin fanfiction #hazbin imagine #fanfic #fanfiction

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lunajay33 · 3 days

Text

Forbidden💋

Summary: You craved your gym teacher, you’ve always wanted more with him than just your favorite teacher and he knew it

Pairing: Coach Negan x f!reader student(18)

Warning: 18+

•Masterlist•

Song suggestion: As Soon as the Good Times Roll- Scorpions

I loved gym not because of the easy grade or anything, more because the teacher was drop dead gorgeous and everything I craved, he’d go around with these basketball short and baseball hat and tight black shirt and it just made my body tingle, he’s my favorite teacher I go to him whenever I have problems and he’s always there to help but along the way I wanted more than just teacher student I want him to just throw me over his desk and take me but there’s one probably, well other than him being my teacher…..I’m a virgin, reminding me today in gym when it was sex Ed, our annual class that was taught for a day instead of usual gym activities

“Okay class settle down, it’s sex Ed today” everyone groans and some laugh mostly the girls and boys that flaunt their sex lives out in the open like everyone should know

“I know nobody wants to talk about this with there teacher but it’s the rules” the class went on like usual telling us to use protection to be safe, the risks and everything and now it’s question time

“Any questions?”

“Sir does it hurt” I ask then everyone erupts in laughter, I feel the blood rush to my face

“Oh my god, you’re a virgin what a loser” one of the preppy girls says and I can feel my lip tremble trying to keep the tears at bay

“That’s enough, Ashley detention, everyone else class is dismissed” everyone filters to the change rooms and I take more time being the last one in there, I sigh sitting down on the bench after changing, this was going to be the talk of the school, like I didn’t have enough stress with school anyways, I leave the change room when Mr. Smith stops me

“Hey kid come to my office” I follow him anxiously sitting in the chair across from his desk he closes the door and locks it then sitting behind his desk

“You okay?” He asks looking me up and down

“I shouldn’t have asked that I’m sorry”

“Ain’t got nothing to be sorry about it was a normal question”

“I was just curious and now I’m completely embarrassed, everyone thinks I’m a loser for being a virgin”

“Nothing to be ashamed of darlin, but since we’re alone do you have any other questions?” He asks leaning against his desk

“Umm….im not sure I really don’t know anything about this stuff, I’ve never done anything so I don’t know what it feels like”

“Oh I think you know a thing or two, when you look at someone and your eyes wonder lower, your body gets hot and you clench your legs together to ease the ache” his voice gets deeper and my eyes are blown wide with shock

“Mr.Smith what’re you talking about” I feel on fire right now but he wasn’t completely wrong about what he said, it’s hard to keep my eyes off him in gym

“I think we’re well past Mr.Smith, Negan is fine love, I’ve seen you look at me in class, your eyes drift lower until you’re starring right at my dick” he states walking around the desk leaning back on it infront of me

“W..what no of course not you’re my teacher”

“Come on baby, don’t lie we both know you can’t lie to me” he smirks kneeling infront of me placing his hands on my thighs, i sigh knowing he was right he’s always been able to get the truth out of me

“Fine, was it that obvious?” Now I’m embarrassed for a different reason

“Only to me, I’ve had my eye on you, always such a good girl”

“Negan can you…..can you show me how it feels?” Holding my breath until he answered

“You sure that’s what you want Angel?”

“Please I can’t wait any longer I need you” I say as I clench my legs together

“Good girl” he picked me up with ease laying me back down on the desk knocking over pencils and pens, he wrapped my legs around his waist his bulge pushing against my pussy

His fingers playing with the hem of my pants

“You ready?” I nodded frantically

He undid the button pulling my pants and panties off in one pull, my pussy now bare to him, I covered myself with my hand feeling insecure, no one’s ever seen me like this let alone a drop dead gorgeous man

He grabbed my hand pushing it back onto the desk just admiring me, it feels like his eyes are burning fire through me

“Look at this pretty pussy, so wet just for me” I feel his fingers push through my folds circling around my clit making me gasp at a sudden shock running through me

Pulling his shorts down letting his dick free, slapping it against my clit

“Negan please I need it” I whined feeling the pressure of him pushing in finally feeling it pop, that painful but pleasuring feeling coursed through me making me grind down on him just wanting more

“Fuck baby so tight, you alright?” He asked gripping my hips harder

“Yes god please more” I reach up holding his bicep for leverage as he slides in more until he’s flush against me leaning down so our lips are brushing against eachother, sitting in the feeling for a moment of him completely sheathed inside me

“God you do things to me sweetheart, imma show you how a real man fucks” he started off slowly until his thrusts were deep and hard hitting that sweet spot over and over my vision going spotty

“Oh Negan right there!” I dig my nails into his arm not knowing what to do with all this pleasure it was almost too much but god was he good

“You like that baby, you take me so well, so tight around my dick” his words pushed me over the edge about to scream when his hand clamps over my mouth as my body is racked with white hot pleasure feeling liquid drip down my legs

“Fuck fuck” I hear him groan when he pulls out and cums all over my pussy mixing with my release

“Look at you, so pretty and just for me hot damn” his thumb drags through my folds mixing his cum against my sensitive clit making me shake, leaning up on my arms to watch him do it

“How was that for your first time baby?”

“I……I think I wanna do it again” all he does is smirk

“Oh you don’t have to worry about that we’ll be doing this a lot more often now that you’re mine”

#twd fanfiction #negan x y/n #negan x you #negan smut #negan #negan x reader #negan imagine #negan fanfiction #the walking dead negan #negan smith #twd negan #negan smith series #negan smith smut #negan smith x y/n #negan smith x you #coach Negan

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sl0t4matt · 2 days

Note

I NEED BBF WITH MARC

m. guiu bbf! headcanons 18+

bbf= brothers best friend

bbf! marc, who you thought was the most annoying person you’ve ever met ever since you were little. you never would’ve thought there is a person more annoying than your brother but he proved you wrong.

bbf! marc, that constantly makes fun of every move or outfit you choose with your brother.

bbf! marc, who’s physique changed a lotttt after him and your brother went to that football camp. you almost couldn’t believe your eyes at how hot he became but then reminded yourself how stupid he is which made that thought totally irrelevant.

bbf! marc, that would randomly get into your room just to show off the new muscles he’s been getting lately by flexing them in your mirror like your brother always does. you know he’s hot but fuck, he doesn’t need to make it so obvious!

bbf! marc, that couldn’t help but stare a little too long on your legs with the way your skirt rolled up your thighs as you sat down. if it wasn’t for your brother he would’ve fingered you right then and there.

bbf! marc, that would check you out from behind whenever you would walk around the house in the skimpiest outfits. him shifting on his seat on the couch, trying to hide the obvious budge in his pants from your brother that is beside him.

bbf! marc, that you saw one night at the club. him immediately dragging you out of there like you’re not old enough. how immature really! ugh!

bbf! marc, that one day sent you a request which caught you off guard, but accepted it nevertheless. it couldn’t hurt much, right?

bbf! marc, that picks you up in his car every night for your weekly hook ups.

bbf! marc, that marks your body with hickeys. you’re pretty sure he does that on purpose.

bbf! marc, that sneaks into your room whenever your brother isn’t there. you not making it any better with giving him the best head he’s ever gotten, making it impossible for marc to not meet up with you.

bbf! marc, who you send soft nudes to even when he is with you brother (especially then) the thrill or being caught being ever so exciting. suddenly everything your brother has said in the last few hours disappears in his brain and the only thing he can think is of how you would look underneath him while he’s pounding into you.

bbf! marc, that sneaks into your room whenever he tells your brother that he goes to the bathroom, stealing quick but passionate kisses, but has to rush out as soon as he hears his footsteps and him calling out marc’s name.

bbf! marc, that sends you needy texts, telling you about how much he needs you and can’t wait to see you.

bbf! marc, who’s hand squeezes your thigh under the table when you’re eating dinner, you being worried your brother’s going to see, but he never did.

bbf! marc, that could get hard at watching you redo your lip combo in his car.

bbf! marc, that could come in his pants by only looking at your saved chats.

bbf! marc, that was so pissed when he saw you talking to other guys, that he wasn’t his annoying self with your brother and wouldn’t blow his ears off with his yapping as well as not being the asshole he usually is to you which frankly concerned your brother.

bbf! marc, that even though you guys weren’t officially anything to begin with, was jealous of the guys you went on dates with, talking shit about them with your brother. he couldn’t understand how you could talk to dumbass guys like them. maybe he didn’t deserve you, but that stupid looking basketball player that only wanted to get into your pants certainly didn’t as well.

bbf! marc, that grows impatient while waiting for a respond to his messages from you. he never felt this kind of confusion about any girl, usually him being the one to leave girls on read.

bbf! marc, that you got caught kissing with by your brother on a party.. did he beat the shit out of marc? totally. but did he accept it after marc told him how he felt about you? surprisingly yes..

#fc barcelona #barca #marc guiu x reader #marc guiu #hector fort #joao felix #pablo gavi

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captainnameless · 2 days

Note

This is no stress and only when/if you have the time and inspiration.

But talk to me about super hyper little Max please😇

It doesn’t get like this very often, Max quite literally bouncing off the walls. Max gets excited, sure. About race day, about cheat meals, about Daddy time, about flags and animals, but rarely this… active.

It’s usually a sign of overstimulation, they’d been pretty busy these past few weeks, very little time with each other and even littler time for any regressing. Daniel’s glad the coin’s fallen this way though, he loves Max regardless but this is a little easier to deal with than an overly defiant Max who toes the line of boundaries and oversteps until Daniel puts a stop to it.

The pancakes don’t help though.

“Taste?” Max asks, holding out a bite for Daniel to take and Daniel blinks slowly, eyeing Max, then the bite, then GP, who shrugs sheepishly.

“He deserved a treat.”

Max always deserves a treat, Daniel thinks. But he’s also thinking about the added sugars and their 10 hour flight they’re about to get on. Oh well.

Daniel wasn’t wrong about the extra sugar, he tries getting Max to take a nap on the plane but Max is way too busy chatting, coloring, he’s doing puzzle games on his phone and keeps getting up out of his seat to walk around.

There’s a minor tantrum that Daniel has to navigate them through when he denies Max a Red Bull, distracts him with a Trash Truck episode and gives him an apple juice instead.

Max falls asleep on the ride home from Nice to Monaco and Daniel curses silently because this is not a good time to fall asleep and he knows this will bite him in the ass for bedtime but he doesn’t want to risk waking Max up and having to navigate another tantrum while driving.

Max wakes up 2 minutes from home like he senses it and turns on immediately. He’s darted up the stairs to the penthouse, refused the elevator while Daniel struggles with their luggage, and goes straight for the cats.

Daniel’s still navigating their luggage and then goes to take Max’s shoes off when he’s having a moment of being in one spot to cuddle his pets.

As soon as his feet are free he takes off and Daniel has to catch him again to remind him of the “no running inside” rule but takes Max’s sock off anyway, knows his boy well enough to know Max’s listening ears might not be tuned right now and he’s limiting the risk of a slip and fall.

Max tips over the entire bin of legos they have, busies himself with it while Daniel whips up some dinner, comes in to the kitchen every five minutes with a “Daddy, look!” while showing off a new build and explaining what it is.

Daniel realizes quickly Max is not going to stay seated for dinner, and pulls him into his lap instead in hopes to keep him there and get some food into the boy.

Max tries sliding off again after two bites and Daniel wraps an arm around his waist, keeping him in place. “Can you keep your butt still for a minute?” Daniel chuckles lightly and Max whines at him.

“My butt doesn’t want to be still.”

“We’re having dinner, buddy.” Daniel says, squeezing Max’s hip. “I’d appreciate it if you would sit and eat it, you like the lasagna.” He adds, grabbing Max’s fork and pressing it down into the lasagna and then offering Max the piece.

Max nods and opens his mouth for the bite, then speaks with his mouth full. “I like it but my butt doesn’t.”

Daniel rolls his eyes fondly, shifts Max a bit and feeds him another bite. “Too bad for your butt.”

Max finishes most of his plate before Daniel decides he cannot contain him anymore and takes the victory with most of the dish gone.

Max is dashing through the living again when Daniel catches him around the waist, digging his fingers into the soft skin around his fingers. “What did Daddy say?”

Max bursts into a fit of tickles immediately trying to unsuccessfully squirm out of Daniel trying to reply but his voice is cut off by another squeaky giggle when the tickling doesn’t stop.

“I can’t hear you.” Daniel smirks, shifting his grip and moving Max around so he can tickle all the way up under his arm. Pulling a delightful squeal out of the younger and another fit of giggles around a “Please Daddy!”

“Huh?” Daniel asks, pausing his tickles, still holding Max. “What was that?”

Max gasps for breath, cheeks flushed, big smile. “Please don’t, Daddy.” He breathes. “No running.”

“Oh, so you do know?”

The flush on Max’s cheeks deepens then, and he goes to bury himself in Daniel’s chest. “I’m too awake! I need to get the shakes out.”

Daniel sighs gently, wrapping Max up in a quick cuddle, the gears in his brain working as he tries to think of something. He really can’t be arsed to go on a run right now, sticking Max in front of a screen will probably only make it worse but he is suddenly reminded of Max’s pool.

“Wanna go for a swim?”

Max nearly forgets the no running rule again when he’s going to grab his trunks, and again when Daniel opens the sliding doors and Max makes a run for the pool, this time he argues they’re not inside anymore.

They splash until their fingers are wrinkly and Daniel takes his tike shampooing Max’s hair in the outside shower and sneaks in a little massage he hopes will mean Max gets a little sleepier.

He gets his first yawn when he’s helping Max into pajama’s which gives Daniel a tiny bit of hope that bedtime will be alright until they’re laying in bed and Max’s bright blue eyes are staring right at them.

“Maxie,” Daniel whispers, grabs Leo from in between them and uses his paw to gently stroke Max’s nose. “Close your eyes, baby.”

Max whines around his thumb, scooting closer to Daniel, speech a little slurred around the digit. “ ‘m not sleepy.”

Daniel bites back his own whine. “Daddy’s sleepy, and Leo’s sleepy. Can you try, please darling?”

Max nods, such a good boy, and scrunches his eyes shut that brings a smile to Daniel’s face. “Relax, bubba.” He whispers, goes back to using Leo’s soft paw to gently map Max’s face, trace over his brows and the bridge of his nose until the scrunch is gone.

He switches tactics then, maneuvers Max onto his chest and gently scratches his fingers into the shaved up bits of Max’s hair, lips pressed against the top of his head while he murmurs a song Max likes.

He’s worried he’s gonna murmur himself to sleep before Max but right as his own eyes start to feel too heavy he feels Max relax all the way, breathing evening out.

Daniel gives him one more kiss before his own eyes shut.

#littlef1adventures #lf1a.minific

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tomssexdoll · 21 hours

Note

hey boobie toobie

so, you and bill are in an argument. a nasty one. in a hotel of all places. he’s been texting you he’d return to the hotel early all week but getting there at 3am which obviously raises suspicion. you accuse him that he might be cheating or doing something dangerous. after a few insults are thrown from both ends, he mentions your eating disorder. a sensitive place you both swore to never mention. “well at least i can fucking eat,” you felt your heart break. there was a moment of silence as you registered what he said. “fuck- liebe im sorry” he tried apologizing, but you didn’t wanna hear it. “no, get the **fuck** away from me, bill-“ you snapped. you slapped his hands as they tried to comfort you. you grabbed your things and stormed out of the hotel room. you had nowhere to go. all of your friends were hours away since you followed bill on tour. your first thought was gustav, he was so sweet and could definitely cheer you up. he was your closest friend in the band. it would usually be bill, but for obvious reasons not today. you stumbled to gustav’s hotel room and knocked gently but eagerly. he swung open the door, confused expression. “c-can i come in?” as gustav lets you in, you start rambling about what happened. you even began to cry. gustav succeeds in calming you down and eventually bill knocks on the door. gustav answers and sees you on his bed looking a mess. “y/n!” he exclaims and pushed past gustav to get to you. “i don’t wanna see you,” you mumble. “schatz, please? i’ll make it up to you” he pleads. you finally agree and bill leads you out of the hotel and into your favorite nearby restaurant where at your table, he apologizes about everything and you forgive him :)

omg yes ily

How could you?

PAIRINGS: Bill 2010 x Female reader

CONTENT: SMUT

SYPNOSIS: Bill and Y/N get in a heated argument after he yet again returns home late, he mentions something they both agreed they'd never bring up ever, going to Gustav for comfort.

A/N: hi

WARNINGS: yelling, arguing, mentions of eating disorder

Bill has been acting weird lately. We were on a tour for his band and stayed at a hotel in Paris. He'd been texting me all week that he'd be home early but would always manage to come around 3am, rough looking.

It really hurt me seeing him do this, he never really acted like this in the past so I never understood what provoked it. Was he cheating? Or worse, doing something illegal or dangerous? It was a foreign country and he could get killed.

Every night my heart filled with worry, tears falling down my cheeks at the minutes going by where he still wasn't home. Tonight he came home late again, the clock read 3:04am. He bursted in, chucking himself on the bed in hopes to go to bed and prevent my yelling. But I had enough of his bullshit.

"Don't try and sleep your way out of this, get the fuck up," I raised my voice, "where have you been all night? You texted me 5 hours ago and said you'd be home" I sighed.

He just rolled his eyes, slowly getting up, "I don't want to hear it y/n, I'm fucking tired" he groaned deeply, walking towards me. "I don't care if you're tired, clearly you're not tired enough to go out every night and do god knows what" I spat, crossing my arms.

"Oh shut up, you're always worrying about stupid things" "stupid things? For all I know you could be cheating, is that what you're doing? Because if you are it's not very discreet" I glared at him, testing his patience.

"Oh my god, of course I'm not cheating" he grunted, looking down at me intensely, his eyes piercing through mine. "Then what are you doing? Doing illegal things? Drugs? Stealing things? Hm?" I spoke to him like I was his mother, lecturing him on his whereabouts.

"No! For fuck sakes you're so controlling! Always telling me what to do, you're psycho!" he raised his voice, grabbing my arm. I slapped his hand away as soon as it got into contact with my skin, "how dare you? You fucking pig!" I yelled.

Great, we were arguing once again. In a fucking hotel of all places.

He got visibly more angry, his eyes narrowing at me "don't fucking call me that, you're a fucking bitch" he growled, "always complaining, bitching and moaning, I should've just left you at home for fuck sakes" rubbing his temples in frustation.

"Oh great, thanks, that makes me feel wonderful," I rolled my eyes, turning away from him and sitting down onto the bed. "Now you're the one walking away, I thought we were going to talk about it schatz?" he taunted, "oh don't even Bill, you're so fucking selfish," I scoffed.

"Selfish? Yet I'm the one who provides you with fucking everything, I spoil you all the time with gifts," a scowl appearing on his face. "It's not about the money Bill, it's about quality time and love, it seems you can't even do that properly," I sighed.

"Can't do it properly?" he chuckled, "let's talk about what you can't do properly, at least I can fucking eat properly, can you say the same?" he spat out, his words bitter and cruel.

My heart just broke at his words, my mouth slightly agape. He knew that I struggled with an eating disorder, a place we both swore never to mention.

There was an awkward silence before what he said registered in his head, his expression going from anger to guilt, his eyes softening. "Oh fuck...liebe I'm so so sorry," he rushed towards me, trying to apologise but it went through one ear and out the other.

His hands came towards to waist, trying to pull me close and get away with such a horrible comment. "No! Get the fuck away from me Bill," I snapped, slapping his hands away from me. I got up and started to pack my things, ignoring his cries for me.

I stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind me, trying to figure out where I should go. I wasn't close enough with Tom or Georg..my friends were hours away. Then I realized Gustav would welcome me with open arms, I rushed over to his room and knocked gently on the door, urgent to go in so Bill wouldn't drag me back to our room.

After a moment he swung the door open, confused to see me standing there with my things, "what's wrong Y/N?" he frowned, glancing from my face to my bags.

"C-can I come in.." I bit my lip, trying to stop tears from pouring out of my eyes, voice slightly shaky. He nodded quickly and let me in, closing the door softly behind me and leading me to his bed.

"So what happened, was it Bill?" he sighed, running his thumb over my hand, a friendly gesture he'd usually do if I was upset. I nodded, "he..he brought up my eating disorder in a fight.." I burst into tears, Gustav immediately wrapping his arms around me, "I'm sorry y/n..that's such a shitty thing for him to do.." he sighed, comforting me.

I nodded and kept rambling about everything he was doing, staying out late and not telling me, lying and telling me how he would be home early. Gustav just listened to me, giving little comments here and there, rubbing my back soothingly.

I eventually calmed down, Gustavs calming voice making me feel better. He let go of me, running his thumb over my hand again, "I'm always here if you need someone to talk to, I know how mean he can get when he's tired" he smiled softly, I nodded and thanked him, he was an angel.

We kept on talking, discussing what I should do when I heard a soft knock, Gustav thought it might of been Georg or Tom or even room service so he got up, slowly approaching the door and opening it, Bills tall figure appearing in the doorway.

Bills eyes light up when he sees me, sitting on Gustavs bed, looking like a complete mess, my mascara smudged on my cheeks. He pushed past Gustav, running to me. I didn't even look up at him, not bearing to see his face after the words he said to me, "I don't want to see you.." I mumbled, he sighed deeply "schatz, please? I'll make it up to you," he pleads, leaning down to my level and holding my hands.

I turned to look at him, I sighed and agreed. I knew it was stupid but the look in his eyes just made me cave in, the way he could so easily woo me was dangerous.

"Thanks Gustav.." I smiled and hugged him, waving goodbye as we walked out of his room. Bill didn't speak, just held my hand and lead me downstairs into the lobby, walking out of the hotel and onto the streets.

Eventually we stood outside of my favourite resturant, Bill had called in a favour and they quickly opened at such a late hour, preparing for us. I smiled softly, trying to hide it from him.

"Cmon honey, let's go inside" he kissed my cheek softly, walking inside with me and sitting at our booth, a beautiful view of the city right next to us.

"I'm so sorry for what I said y/n..you know I didn't mean it, it was just the first thing that came to my head and I hadn't even fully processed it, I love you so much" he frowned, reaching over the table and taking my hands in his.

I sighed, "I know baby, I know you didn't mean for it to hurt me but..it really did" he nodded sympathetically, letting me vent my frustations out. "I still love you though, I'm willing to forgive you but if you bring it up again it won't be so easy to trust you again" I sighed, "I promise I won't bring it up, ever again" I smiled and brought his hands to my lips, kissing them softly.

"What were you even doing out so late?" I giggled, "honestly..I was literally just out at bars to destress from the concerts, sometimes I just went on walks that lasted hours, I'm sorry for lying and not telling you where I was, you're not controlling at all you just love and worry about me.." he sighed, embarrassed by his shitty actions.

"It's fine baby..you can just come to me for comfort, you know I'm always here" he nodded, grateful for the suggestion, "thanks baby, I love you so much, I'm so glad I have such a wonderful girl in my life, I don't know what I'd do without you.." he leaned across the table, kissing my lips softly.

tags: @itsmealaiah @itsangelll @kaulitzsbabyy @ballhair @estxkios @bkaulitzlover @charliesgoodboy @tomsonlyslut @ge-billsgf

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 51 minutes

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AITA for choosing to spend time with my friends?

I (24f) and my boyfriend (24m) have been together for three years, and were friends for a long time before that. We don’t live together yet as neither of us make enough money to afford rent along with groceries utilities etc, and I’m about to do an unpaid internship so it’s just not ideal financially.

I am currently working full time and doing graduate school online. This means that we usually only have the evenings and weekends to spend together. He thinks we don’t spend enough time together which is totally valid. We usually just have the evenings and weekends to hang out. I have d&d at 4:00 on Saturdays and church with my family at 10:30am on Sundays, so I can get pretty busy. We usually spend the evenings together and we go to his house most of the time, as he is allergic to cats and my house has 2 of them. So after work, I come home and put my work stuff away and then drive over to his house.

He has mentioned before and just brought up how we don’t spend enough time together. And he’s right. The problem is, he doesn’t realize how many events or friend hangouts I turn down or reject so that I can spend my evenings with him. Not to mention, I don’t do my chores after work because they take away from that and he’ll complain that I’m coming over late and I’ll have to leave soon (I need to wake up early for work). So I basically spend every weekday evening except for one (when he has band practice) at his house. He gets to do all his chores during that time since we’re at his house. We usually spend Saturday mornings and afternoons together until 3:30 when I have to leave for d&d. I play d&d with a tight group of friends. We’re all super close and we only hang out once a week: Saturday for d&d.

Last Saturday I had to leave early from my house where my bf was spending the night because I had forgotten I had a memorial service to attend. I felt really shitty about it and he was upset which I understand, but overall our Saturdays & Sundays have been pretty consistent.

This Saturday my friends decided to meet earlier—1pm— to get ice cream together before our d&d game. I figured it wouldn’t be that big of a deal if I couldn’t hang out more on one Saturday. I texted my bf and told him if he wanted to we could get breakfast together and he could even come with me to get ice cream w my friends if he wants.

He got mad at me saying that we never spend enough time together and all he wants is to spend time with me and that I’m not spending enough time with him. I tried to explain to him that I basically put aside every other event or activity I’m interested in so that we can spend more time together but he’s like “we still don’t spend enough time together.” I don’t want to be that friend that disappears from the group when they’re in a relationship. I value my friends and my graduate school career and I don’t want to give up any of that. I already reject multiple offers from other people who want to hang out or invite me to things because I know my boyfriend will be upset. Now I’m debating on if I should even see my friends today.

I feel like I never have any time to myself anymore and that he’s not listening to me when I tell him how much I’m trying, but I also love my boyfriend and enjoy spending time with him. So, am I the asshole for saying yes to my friends inviting me somewhere before our usual hangout time?

#aita #am i the asshole

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allurilove · 2 days

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I admire how fast you write fics lol

Can we get part two of the rejecttion of our classmates lol? Like how is the rest of the summer. I imagine us having to go back to school.

Yandere Classmate’s

For the rest of the summer, they are both pretty miserable. Yearbook guy hasn’t been rejected before, and usually he does that, so it’s a weird change for him. He would just mope around in private, being able to express his true feelings by shoving his face into his pillow. But he’s not a crier, if anything it makes him more determined to become the best man for you. He’s already got the looks, house, and all the superficial stuff to win you over, and now he just had to work on impressing you.

Your phone blows up a couple of times, and when you look over, you see an insta request from yearbook guy. And when you continue to ignore, and don’t accept within a minute, he continues to keep asking. You reluctantly accept in the end, scrolling on his feed to see a couple of pictures of him working at a dog rescue shelter- the pics already garnering quite the likes. Yearbook guy continues to volunteer, do amazing social work, and on his downtime he plays golf at his country club. And of course, he’s teaching little kids how to play sports. He gets frustrated when you don’t respond to any of his posts and stories, and he ignores the text messages from anyone else.

When school finally starts, he might just confront you about not interacting with his posts, and make you feel bad about not caring for the poor dogs or his charity work. But really, he’s hesitant to come up to you. Knowing you absolutely despise him, he doesn’t know what to do really. So he’ll leave you alone for now, maybe if he gave you space, you would realize how much you actually do like him.

Yandere classmate is definitely more stressed out. He has a bunch of these jobs he signed up for- just so he could see you, but now it was going to be awkward since you rejected him. He goes to work everyday, hoping you wouldn’t show up, and when his shift ends he has to quickly run to his next one. He’s making decent money at least, being able to buy more stuff of his favorite sanrio character. He holds his plushie tight when he goes to sleep, his eyes closing and he dreams of you that night.

It doesn’t help that his feet automatically follows you wherever you go. Your schedule is already ingrained in his head that he is at the place you would go to for fun. He sighed as he realized he walked into the same arcade you were in, and he hides in the corner to see you smile, and to see the way your eyes sparkle underneath the artificial lights. When you aren’t able to get the stuffed animal you wanted from the claw machine, he starts to fish out a couple of coins and subtly drops it your way. He keeps doing that until you were able to get the prize you wanted.

When he has to go back to school he tried to catch up on all his homework. His grades were pretty bad since he skipped a lot to see you, and now he was suffering from the consequences. And every math question seemed to lead to you. Soon enough, his paper was just scribbles of your name.

#Allurilove asks #Allurilove yandere writing #male yandere #yandere classmate (yearbook guy)#yandere classmate x yandere classmate #yandere classmate x you #yandere drabble #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere oc #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling

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mikasa-imadebiscults · 2 days

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Okayy, so I've read the rules. This blog is pretty much free, soooooo here's my req:

It's a Hawks × reader [optional: female]

This is an angst-y one wherein Hawks comes back home with reader missing. Like he comes back and notices that reader isn't home. It turns out that reader was doing grocery shopping. But on the way back, reader got targeted by some alcoholic drunkards in an alleyway. Reader gets 🍇-d (only mentioned).

Now that Hawks' found reader, he realised that it was too late and that the reader was already traumatized. So, as a result, the reader got a bit distant from Hawks because the reader might not see him in the same way again because of the recent events.

(It's okay if you're uncomfortable with this. It's hard finding a blog this free. Dw, I'm patient enough to wait for this. *If you'll ever do this*. Goodluck and take your time!)

(Hey! Thank you for being so kind, it means a lot! Also no worries about my comfort, AND I was proofreading this very quickly so please excuse any errors. Also the ending was hard to write ;-; I was struggling. I hope you enjoy this and have a wonderful day!)

“For the Best”

Keigo Takami x GN! Reader

(Warning: SA mention, swearing, ANGST AND ANGST)

It was an ordinary day, well, quite a boring day for The Wing Hero: Hawks. A few quick fights here and there and a couple of small interviews, nothing special, Keigo couldn’t wait to get back home to you.

Fortunately time went by fast and evening came quicker than expected, not like Keigo minded at all. He decided to end his Hero patrol and fly his way to his shared home, whistling the tune of a song that’s been stuck in his head for a while now.

He arrives home, unlocking the door and opening it, “I’m homeee! Where’s my wonderful partner?” Keigo calls out for you, only to be met with silence, he didn’t even hear a single sound. “Maybe they’re in the bedroom napping.” He thought, heading into the said room to find an empty bed.

Keigo searched the house top to bottom, each room he went through and showed no sign of you he got increasingly worried. Though he tried to stay optimistic. He figured maybe you went to the store since yesterday you’ve talked about going and plus your wallet is gone. He sighed and laid on the couch, hoping that you’ll come home soon and relax with him.

....

A slow and dragged out hour passed and an unnerving feeling settled in the pit of Keigo’s stomach, only growing more as time went on. He decided to go out and look for you, following the same usual route you take to go to the store. Searching attentively, he wonders what could’ve happened, he’s an optimistic person but this feeling he feels is just way too unsettling.

All of the sudden his senses perked up as he passed by a dark alleyway, trusting his gut feeling, he unhesitatingly went in. That’s when he heard small desperate cries and ran over to the noise, spotting you on the ground, blood streaming down the side of your forehead.

“Y/N!” Keigo’s shouts, running over to you, “What happened to you?” He says in shock but you stayed silent, only cried. Keigo uses a few of his feathers to go to the nearest person and drag them there, ordering them to call the police to start an investigation while he takes you to the hospital.

Flying you to the nearest hospital, he worries about your wellbeing, not only physically but mentally too. He swiftly arrives there, practically bursting through the door and explains the situation to the receptionist. He’s not sure what exactly happened but all he knows is that you need to be checked out immediately just in case you have any serious wounds.

“Hey I’m not sure what happened, I just found them in an alleyway.” The receptionist nodded her head in acknowledgment and soon the nurses rushed you into an available room and got to work. Keigo frowns when he gets one last look at your face, it pains him to see you so hurt. How could he let something like this happen?

....

Keigo sits in the waiting room, getting increasingly more impatient as time goes on. It’s only been a half hour and it already feels like eternity. Suddenly he got ripped out of his thoughts when he heard his Pro Hero name, standing up to the detective.

“Any news?” Keigo questioned.

“Yes, security camera footage from a nearby building caught the incident. The victim was walking and the suspects dragged them into an alleyway. Luckily the cams caught their faces and we’ve identified the suspects. The three of them were taken into custody for assault, all three were highly intoxicated too.” The detective informed him.

“I see, is that all?”

“After the victim has recovered from their injuries, we’ll ask them some questions to get more information on what happened in that alleyway.” The man explained, writing something down in his notebook.

“Alrighty.” Keigo says, hoping that you’ll have a quick recovery and everything will go back to normal soon.

“Hawks, the victims' treatment went well. So well in fact, that they should be released in about a day, you’re free to see them right now.” The doctor said behind him, and the detective patted Keigo’s back as a way of nonverbally telling him to go ahead, they’ll wait a minute to ask you questions so he can have his time with you.

Keigo nodded his head in acknowledgment to the detective as he speed-walked to your room. He opens the door and a feeling of relief washes over him when he sees your eyes open and conscious.

“Heya babe, how ya feeling?” Keigo asks, not really knowing what to say. You didn’t respond though. Not even making any eye contact with him.

There was a pin-dropping silence for a moment before he broke it, “Ah yeah, I understand, you’re probably not doing so well right now.” He says awkwardly, trying to do his best to comfort you through words. Though he was always terrible with his words, so he decided to comfort you by initiating physical affection; he attempted to hold your hand only to fail when you flinched away, eyes flashing with a fear he’s never seen before in your eyes.

A small ‘oh’ came from his lips, pulling his hand away to not accidentally startle you anymore. He figured that something more happened in that alleyway that the cameras didn’t capture, something traumatic.

“Sorry babe, didn’t mean to scare ya there..” Keigo apologized, putting his hands in his pockets, a look of pity rested on his face. He doesn’t like seeing you so upset and troubled, he hates it. “Do you want me to leave so you have time to process it?”

You nodded your head, still steadily avoiding eye contact, “Alrighty then I’ll see ya later my love. Oh! By the way, a detective will be coming in soon to ask you some questions about what happened.” Keigo sees your nod of approval and starts to walk away, closing the door behind him. As he walks by the detective, he gives him a thumbs up, letting the man know that it’s okay to go in there.

He decided to go home that day, after all, visiting hours are almost over sadly. Stress got to Keigo and tiredness quickly consumed him so he went to bed early, and in the morning he’ll finally take you home. He prays to whoever’s listening that you’ll get better soon.

....

As soon as Keigo woke up the next morning he went to the store to buy a bouquet of flowers, a vase, and some of your favorite snacks. He wanted to see you happy again, even if it’s only a small smile. He got the stuff and went to the hospital. When he got there he had a short conversation with the doctor, asking about your well-being. The doctor said that he recommended you some psychologists near the area once you are out of here considering what happened.

Once the conversation was over he made his way to your room, opening the door to find you sleeping. He smiles softly, glad that you’re at least getting some rest. He sets the items on the end table and pulls a chair closer to the bed, resting his head on the edge of the bed while he waits for you to get up.

After a few minutes Keigo starts to doze off, that was until he felt the bed jolt. He lifts his head up and sees you sitting up looking utterly terrified like you were scared of him. “Hey are you-” he’s interrupted by a pillow getting thrown at him.

“Get- get away from me!” You shout, tears streaming down your face, unknowing that it's your boyfriend that you’re speaking to. You’re far too blinded by the trauma, perhaps even PTSD. His feathers quickly got the glass vase out of your reach before you threw it at him.

“Y/N, it’s me, Keigo!” He tries to tell you, but the look on your face didn’t get any better. You weren’t convinced. All you saw was the main guy that led the assault on you.

“No you’re not! You- you are nothing like him!” You stammered, getting out of your bed, shaking like a leaf.

The sounds of the chaos rang out through the door, alerting the other doctors and nurses outside, causing a few of them to rush in to see what’s going on. They see you freeze in place out of fear, hyperventilating and shaking. “Sir it’s best if you step out of the room for a minute.” The doctor advises while the nurses try to calm you down.

“Okay okay, I’ll be going.” Keigo says, not wanting to make the situation even worse. Shutting the door, he rubs his head. “Damn.” He muttered to himself, while he made his way to the god awful waiting room again.

....

“Keigo.”

“Huh? Who’s there?” Keigo looked around, seeing absolutely nothing, not even a single speck of light.

“Stay away from them if you know what’s best for you.” The unknown echoing voice spoke in an almost threatening tone.

“What are you talking about? Who the hell even are you?” Keigo questioned, fist clenching a bit as he got increasingly more pissed. He wasn’t quite sure why he was getting so angry this quickly. It’s probably because that unknown voice was talking about you and he’s a bit overprotective of you because of the recent incident.

“That is none of your concern. All you need to do is stay away from Y/N if you love them enough. It’s for the best.”

“Wha-”

.…

“Hawks!”

Keigo shot up from the chair, wide eyed for a moment before he realized that it was only a dream. A strange dream at that. He notices the doctor standing there, the same one that’s been checking up and taking care of you.

“Yes doc?” He said, straightening out his clothes, getting himself together.

“We managed to calm them down, and we asked them a few questions and it’s clear that their mental state is very unstable. We suggested a mental hospital to them and they agreed to go. It's best if you keep your distance to prevent any further complications with their mental health. I know it’s hard considering they’re your partner but don’t worry they’ll be in good hands. It’s for the best.”

“Well if it’s for the best then I understand.” Keigo says, his mood dampening even more. He was upset that this was happening, upset that this happened to you. Anger boiled his blood when he thought about the drunkies, he hoped for all of them to get the maximum penalty. Hell, he wouldn’t mind if they gave you the death penalty, even though he knew that was highly unlikely.

He heads back home, this time walking instead of flying so that he can take a long walk to get his mind off things. A few people recognized him on the way and asked for autographs which he put on a fake smile and agreed, making small talk. Though during the whole interaction he just couldn’t shake the image out of his head; the image of how you looked at him in the hospital. Keigo knows that you’re currently mentally unstable and you didn't know what you were seeing. Keigo understands this, but it still hurts greatly, like a knife piercing his stomach.

Waving a friendly goodbye to the star-struck fans, he continued to walk home; and sooner than expected, he arrived. Arriving at this home always used to be a joy, but now it’s only lonely and empty. A constant reminder of you. Keigo always tries to be an optimistic person but he just can’t be optimistic anymore when things are so dark and gloomy and everything seems to be going wrong. Especially when you’re the one that's hurt. It hasn’t even been that long since he had seen you acting like your usual self but it feels like it’s been ages.

How long will it take for you to get better? Will it take a few days, months, years? Will you actually be okay by yourself? What did that dream he had really mean? All types of questions run around his head like a carousel. Maybe he needs to speak to someone about this, after all it isn’t healthy to keep all of these emotions in.

All of the sudden his phone dings, it was a text notification from you. Keigo’s heart dropped to his stomach when he read the message.

——————————

My partner in crime ❤️😘

“Hey, sorry about what happened, I wasn’t all there and still am unstable. I’m sorry to say this but, I can’t see anyone the same way again, that includes you. It might take me a long while to recover from this and it’s not fair to you. So I want to break up so that you can move on. It’s for the best, for both of us. I truly am sorry, I hope you find someone way better and stronger than me. You deserve it. I’m going to therapy and working on myself so don’t worry about me. Take care of yourself Keigo, goodbye.”

——————————

“Is this really for the best? Hahaha, so this is goodbye huh? Well, I guess this is just my luck. Goodbye my lov- no, goodbye Y/N.” Keigo says to himself, as the message sunk in; the denial faded and sadness came quickly, ready for the waterworks. So it really is goodbye. Forever. What an unexpected plot twist to happen.

Masterlist

#tw sa mention #tw sa #mha angst #mha scenarios #mha fanfiction #mha x gn!reader #mha x gender neutral reader #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha hawks #hawks x reader #keigo takami #keigo x reader #keigo x y/n

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zukosdualdao · 2 days

Text

i promise i'll do better (i will soften every edge)

zutara month, day 11: "mom and dad are fighting again", @zutaramonth

summary: kya interrupts an argument between katara and zuko.

warnings: reference to (implied) abuse/domestic violence, wrt to ozai's treatment of ursa.

other notes: lyrics from 'light' by sleeping at last. don't ask me how timelines work idk. yes there is a zutara daughter named kya here (separate entity from the lok kya.) she wears her hair in a southern water tribe braid and zuko calls her firecracker and it’s very cute. not really relevant but in this story i’m imagining she’s a nonbender.

“Katara, you know I agree with you.”

Across from him, she crosses her arms, and Zuko sighs. The throne room is empty, save for the two of them, and Zuko feels trapped, claustrophobic in the walls. They’ve made a point of opening up windows in the castle, letting light filter in, getting rid of old, haunting portraits, and making something new and beautiful together.

But the throne room doesn’t have windows to open. On a day like today, at times like these, it’s all too easy to remember the staunchly severe figures both his grandfather and father made here, walling themselves as they did behind high, towering fires.

Maybe they shouldn’t be having this talk here. It's too late now, but something to note for the future.

“It doesn’t seem like it.”

“Of course I want to increase reparations soon,” he insists. “That’s the plan, and that’s always been the plan. But we have to be smart about this,” he tries to remind her. “We can’t do it all at once, or people will try to block—”

“Oh, so now you’re all about thinking things through! Those instincts could have served you well years ago, you know.”

Zuko closes his eyes and runs a hand through his hair. The words are biting, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. Things have been tense again in the Fire Nation lately. Better than ever before in some ways. Worse in others.

The first years after the war were a turbulent time in the Fire Nation—riots from those not happy with the changing of the old guard, strikes from workers contesting the need to pay reparations to the other nations, whispers of loyalists to the old regime plotting to get either Ozai or Azula back on the throne. A few assassination attempts, all handled efficiently but reason enough for concern.

Ten years past the end of the war, though, and things have started to stabilize. The plan has always been to increase reparations once the Fire Nation’s economy has improved, and Zuko intends to keep his word. But part of the system he’s trying to build means that there are representatives from all over the Fire Nation, as well as the other nations, and they each have their own agendas. It’s a tricky thing to navigate; he has to take all of their concerns seriously, of course, but also act according to his own principles. To live up to the promises he made years ago, and that he’ll continue to make for years to come.

Katara looks at him with a combative raise of her eyebrow.

It’s taken a strain on their relationship. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, they’re both a little too good at lashing out, both a little too good at saying the thing that will hurt, even if they immediately regret it.

But usually, by the end of the day if not before, they can remember they’re on the same side, for all that their perspectives might differ.

“Can we pause?” Zuko asks of her, and her features soften. “Just—try to hear each other out? Katara, I understand…” but before he can finish, the large door to the throne room creaks, and Zuko watches as one of the serving maids guides their daughter into the room.

“See?” Kya points to them, eyes wide with alarm and lip quivering. “Mom and Dad are fighting again.”

Something in Zuko’s stomach drops. He doesn’t want her to worry about this. About them. He’d had to worry about his parents, to worry about his mother, Ozai looming over her, and sometimes Zuko was pretty sure he saw fear in her eyes where there should have been love, and then—

She’d been gone. And he’d drawn his own conclusions, quietly and with little reason to question them.

“She coudn’t sleep,” Hina says apologetically, and Zuko only waves a hand. “She was asking for you both.”

“Thank you for bringing her.”

“Oh, sweetie, don’t worry,” Katara says, walking over and lifting Kya up onto her hip. “Things are just tense right now,” she says, with a guilty sideways look to Zuko, who smiles weakly. “It’s not anything for you to worry about.”

“Promise?”

Zuko walks over to join the huddle and places a kiss atop her dark hair, which is twisted in a braid. “Promise, little firecracker. Mom and Dad are just trying to figure out the right way to handle something.” He meets Katara’s eyes and tries to impress the sincerity of his words on her. “But we will figure it out. We always do.”

Katara smiles at him and uses the hand not keeping Kya secure on her hip to touch the small of Zuko’s back in a gentle gesture. The three of them stand huddled together, and for the first time in… weeks, probably, Zuko feels his body relax, just a little.

He smiles back, a little exhausted but a lot relieved—to have Katara with him, there to both challenge and support him, to have Kya with them, creative and funny and quick as a whip as she is, and at only age four. He’s glad to have his family.

They are okay. Right now, they are okay. Whatever else may come.

#zutaramonth2024 #zutara month #zutaramonth #zutara #my fic #day 11: “mom and dad are fighting again”#trigger: abuse.#trigger: domestic violence.#jic. small references.#atla

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psiroller · 3 days

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you're gonna hate me soon ch. 2 preview. because i like you a lot

When the party reconvened the following Monday, it was like nothing had ever happened. It wasn’t the first time that someone in the group had drunk a little too much or too fast and said something they shouldn’t have—that person was usually Laios—but it hadn’t gone as far as a fistfight in recent memory. Still, when Laios and Falin arrived at their usual spot at the tavern, his teammates greeted him like any other day. Chilchuck raised a stein of something Laios hoped wasn’t alcoholic to hail him, but there was an ever-so-slight upturn to his normal morning grimace, so maybe it was. Laios felt his pulse quicken and focused on his breathing, but it just made him look even more flustered. He cleared his throat in address.

“Alright, everyone, it’s slim pickings on the available jobs this week,” Laios announced. “There weren’t many listings on the boards, and most of them sounded sketchy. Another ‘package delivery’ to one of the unregulated taverns on the second floor, another ‘contraband seizure’ on the lower levels with no seal of authenticity, tons of requests for those kinds of walking mushrooms, a couple of ‘succubus hunts’ looking for entry-level adventurers…”

Chilchuck rolled his eyes and clucked his tongue. “People are still posting those? I can’t imagine there’s a wide pool of scabs left to take them.”

“There’s a sucker born every minute,” Namari shrugged, gnawing on a strip of bacon burnt into a stick of charcoal, just the way she liked it. “Half-minute, for you guys.”

Chilchuck swatted Namari in the shoulder, a backhanded crack of his knuckles that felt like a bug bite to her. She laughed it off, giving him a gentle sock in the arm that made him wince.

“The postings have been generally dubious lately, haven’t they?” Shuro asked. Laios nodded to him, defeated.

“There’s a lot of bureaucratic red tape involved in making sure the job postings are legitimate,” Marcille said, twining a ribbon through her rope braid. Falin went to hold one of the partitioned locks of hair for her as she struggled with an awkward angle. “But I’ve heard that the correspondence offices are swamped with all the new people coming to the island lately. Maybe things are starting to slip through the cracks?”

“Nothing’s stopping anybody from just walking up to the public postings and sticking up a piece of official-looking parchment, either,” said Laios. “Generally, there are officers on patrol to monitor what goes up, but they go out in shifts. If they’re spread too thin, they check less, forget more often, and a newbie takes a crappy monster bait job.”

“And probably dies,” Chilchuck chimed in.

“Thank you, Chilchuck.”

“So, is there anything worth doing this week?” Namari crossed her arms. “Or could I have slept in today?”

“There is one…” Laios said, trying to contain his excitement. “There’s a hydra on the fourth floor.”

Namari grinned and leaned in, elbows on the table. “Now we’re talking.”

Shuro nodded seriously, indicating he was already planning his approach. Marcille blanched at the concept; she hadn’t been to the fourth floor yet in her adventuring career. Falin had assisted in the job hunt and was aware of the plan, but she still grinned toothily at the thought of seeing one.

“You sure we can handle a hydra?” Chilchuck asked. “Two manticores were tough enough. These things have a dozen heads, don’t they? It’s like fighting a whole group of monsters at once.”

“Oh?” Laios grinned. “Are you planning on participating in the hunt this time?”

Chilchuck spat his orange juice (?) back into the cup. “Hell no!”

“That’s a shame,” Laios pouted. “At any rate, I was hoping to borrow those manticore quills you picked up. Did you happen to sell those off?”

Chilchuck had to think about it, scratching his sideburns. Laios had seen him hungover before, but he was in a better mood than usual for such a state, if a bit slow. “I think I got a few still lying around.” He’d been planning to try to find a way to fletch them without spilling the venom everywhere, having found no success. The tips were sharply pointed and might serve well as a pick if carved down, but they were quite valuable in their raw form. Like many things he had trouble deciding on, they��d been stuffed under his desk and left alone.

Laios beamed at him. “Awesome. That’ll be really helpful.” Chilchuck averted his eyes and got his orange juice (?) back down on the second shot.

“Don’t mention it.”

“According to the posting, this hydra is still a juvenile.” Laios continued. “It should be much easier to take down than a full-grown adult, but there’s something to consider: this listing is almost a month old by now. The hydra shouldn’t have grown too much from that sighting, but we all know the thing about hydras, right?”

Everyone around the table nodded; Namari made a what-do-you-think sort of gesture.

“I need all of you to verbally confirm it for me, okay? Just to be sure.”

A collective groan arose.

“Cut off all the heads at once, or two more grow in its place,” the party intoned, with the slow and deliberate cadence of grammar schoolers.

“Very good, everyone. Thank you. I know that sounds insulting, but if you have experience in this kind of work, you know why I’m checking.”

“Common rookie mistake.” Namari sipped her coffee.

“That’s right. And if there’s an influx of rookies coming in, desperate for work…”

“Then the hydra might have gotten a few heads trimmed already.” Shuro folded his arms into his sleeves. “That could be a problem.”

“But it also means that there’s more we can loot from it,” Laios smiled. He pumped his fist a little, unable to control his excitement. “We’ve got some good experience under our belts now, and I’ve done a lot of research on hydras. I think we’re ready to take one on now. They’re fascinating monsters, members of the dragon family! They’ve got an extremely interesting skeletal adaptation that—”

“Sounds good to me.” Namari rose from the bench and stretched, pulling her arm over her shoulder. “I need a really thin taper on the blade for hydras, right?”

“Y-yeah, the hide’s thin for a dragon but the muscle is tough. We need to make sure we get a clean, complete slice when we do get the chance to take a swing. When hydras are young, their heads get severed easily. It sounds like it’s counterintuitive, but—”

“I get it. I’ve fought them before. Just tell me when to slice ‘em and I’ll slice ‘em.”

“See, that’s the problem. We don’t know exactly how many heads this thing has. How do we ensure that we cut them all off at once?” Namari grimaced and sat down, settling in for another lecture. “So that’s why I asked you to meet me here! I have an attack strategy I like to call ‘the kebab method’.”

Namari stood back up. “Nah, that’s cool, see you—”

Chilchuck put a hand on her arm. “Let him talk, Namari.”

Namari stared incredulously down at Chilchuck, then grimaced when she put the pieces together. She clucked her tongue and flopped into her seat for good. She elbowed Chilchuck in the ribs and muttered something in a language Laios didn’t recognize. Chilchuck drummed his fingertips on his arm and ignored it.

Laios smiled down at Chilchuck, and the sour look on his face softened. He twirled his wrist, motioning for Laios to continue. “Continue. I don’t have all day, pal.”

Laios chuckled, blushing a bit. “Right, sorry! So, the manticore quills are great for this, but I’ve also picked up some long-range spears—well, I guess they’re more like polearms?” Falin shot Marcille a horrified glance. The hydra was the furthest thing from their minds. Namari opened her mouth to correct him on his weapons terminology but jolted a little, having gotten kicked in the ankle. “Each head of the hydra has its own spinal cord, much like ours, that runs down down the center and to the back of the hydra’s throat. So if you stab around the spine between the ribs that protect the hydra’s esophagus, everything stays intact. Severing the spinal cord is what triggers the new heads to grow in, provided that at least one head is left intact when the reflex kicks in.”

“So we could use those polearms to hold it in place? I don’t think my upper arm strength can pull that off,” Marcille protested.

“We could push the spears into the walls and floor to ground them,” Shuro offered. Laios snapped his fingers.

“Yes! That’s a great idea. But I could only afford so many spears, and Chilchuck only has so many quills long enough to pull this off. So it’s important that we’re careful about how many we use. Considering how thin the hydra’s necks are, I thought we could try to skewer multiple heads on the same spear.”

A silence fell on the party, and perhaps the next table over, upon hearing this flawless plan.

“Hence, the kebab method,” Marcille clarified, her tone flat. Chilchuck shrank into his chair when he felt Namari looking over at him. Laios nodded.

“I think it could work,” Shuro said. Laios lit up at the validation. “There’s some merit to restricting the hydra’s movements. Not all of us can restrain the beast on our own, but if securely speared through, we could use the hydra’s muscle strength against itself. Stabbing through the esophagus would also prevent the hydra from swallowing any of us outright, if it has grown large enough to do so.”

“Exactly! Thank you, Shuro.” Shuro seemed a little exhausted by his energy, but Falin gave him a hearty pat on the shoulder that he’d be thinking about for the rest of his life. “And we don’t have to get a perfect hit with every spear. I got as many as I could afford, so if the hydra rips the spear out of your hands or it’s too dangerous to keep going, we can fall back, grab another spear, and try again.”

“So we’re trying to reduce the amount of variables in fighting the hydra?” Marcille asked, more convinced this time.

“The less we have to worry about the hydra writhing around, the easier it’ll be to synchronize the finishing blow.” Laios grinned at Namari. “And that’s when we finally slice ‘em. Everyone clear?”

Namari grinned back. Shuro bowed his head in understanding. Marcille still had her reservations, but Falin was pumping her up. Chilchuck sat back in his seat with his arms crossed, abstaining from any conversation about combat, but when Laios caught his eye, the corner of his mouth curved up in a smirk that Laios couldn’t decipher.

“That’s—that’s all!” Laios croaked. “We’ll all meet at the dungeon tomorrow, as usual. Take whatever preparations you need. Pack heavily, it’s a long trip.”

The party dispersed. Falin and Marcille lingered at their end of the table as Namari hustled to leave, lost in consideration of what weapon she’d be taking down with her. Shuro hung around for a while, trying to find an inroad to talk to Falin, but Marcille was well-equipped to play defense and came prepared with updated Daltian Clan relationship charts. The long-haired swordsman was stuck talking to Laios for an excruciating moment before he politely excused himself.

“Hey,” Chilchuck said, raising a hand. Laios turned from watching Shuro leave, ears perked.

“You have a question, Chilchuck?”

“You mind going over that thing you said about their skeleton? Sounded like it might have been important. You said severing the spinal cord is what activates the head… growing… thing?”

Laios’ eyes glittered. “Oh, uh, yeah! It’s like how some lizards can drop and regrow their tails, just done way faster. Most lizards don’t regrow brains in their missing limbs, either, so maybe it’s not the best analogy…”

“How come it dies if all the heads come off? Can’t it just regrow them anyway?”

“That’s a great question, and one still up for debate! The leading theory is that the heads grown by the hydra are clones based on one of the intact heads. They have the same scale patterns and eye colors as the one closest to it on the array, and…”

Falin had tuned out of Marcille’s rant and had tuned into Laios’, instead. She watched as Chilchuck leaned onto his elbow and listened, looking bored. Laios continued undaunted. Marcille’s slight hand came to rest on Falin’s shoulder, and she gave a reassuring squeeze.

“You don’t have to protect him from everything, you know,” Marcille whispered. Falin bonked their foreheads together and sighed.

“I just can’t watch him get hurt,” Falin said. “Never could.”

Marcille coaxed Falin out of her seat to go get breakfast with her, leaving Chilchuck and Laios shoulder-to-elbow on the bench.

“So it’s kind of like how a flower can grow back if you prune it right,” Chilchuck said, nudging his plate over to Laios, tossing him an unused fork and knife swaddled in a napkin. There was an uneaten, soggy waffle on it, but Laios wasn’t picky. He bit into his takeout budget to get their hunting supplies.

“Yeah, that works! If you cut too much off the whole thing wilts. Most flowers aren’t trying to wrestle you into pruning them, though, so you have to…”

#ficroller #dungeon meshi #chilaios #theyre mostly just standing around talking #i gotta punch this up somehow but i also like the awkward boardroom meeting vibe of this so here you go #preview

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