#her sarcasm is Gold.

[pinkfey]

may possibly have a name n some ideas for the miranda oc i was considering 🤔

#renata?? perhaps?? #bc i’m playing around w ideas and i kinda like the idea of a nonhuman for her #a turian !! #i’m thinking they’d meet after me2 #OR they met a long time ago and miranda still has some lingering beef #might have something to do with oriana #all i know atm is that she’s a mess w a heart of gold and ​she calls miranda andy in a playfully antagonistic way #miranda dislikes her a lot at first bc she expects the worst from her #and though she plays it off with biting sarcasm and such she feels like no matter how good and honest she is she can’t prove it to miranda #it isn’t enough for her #like she just wants to not feel like miranda thinks she’s full of it all the time #so when renata eventually snaps and is like jesus nothing i do will be enough for u to accept i’m not a total piece of shit !! #that’s when miranda realizes some things abt herself. also realizes she might have feelings #IDK i’m workshopping!!!!!! #anyways.txt

[thatfreshi]

Can I request an Astarion x reader fic where the reader keeps getting hit on/cat called by random people, and she brushes it off at first but it slowly becomes evident that it really bothers her, and needs someone to intervene or comfort her?

TW - Sexual harassment, threat of kidnapping

Recommended Song: Used - SZA FT. Don Toliver

Ah taverns, such wondrous places of inebriation and sloppy people of all creeds. You and Astarion are party people, despite his introverted nature. It's more about being two people thriving in chaos, playing the other patrons like pawns to make the night exciting, flirting with a stranger to snatch their drink from the bar, and all of those morally grey things. Sure, maybe it's not ethical to steal, but it sure is fun.

It's not a secret that you are two of the most good-looking regulars, but it's also well-known that you're severely monogamous. In fact, it's gotten very close to voyeurism multiple times, which has gotten you kicked out of a couple places. You don't mind public displays of affection, even if they're a little far gone at times. All of that to say, it's hard not to notice when you arrive.

Ever since the death of Cazador, you've been living in luxury. Despite rejecting ascension, Astarion didn't mind getting his hands all over the stockpile of gold and jewels the Szarrs had at their estate. After all, you'd say he deserves it. It's almost like being nobility, adorned in gorgeous clothing amongst the common people, and yet you fit in quite well. This rich adornment came with tight-fitting gowns, gorgeous lace pieces, corsets of the highest quality. Those also didn't go unnoticed, but this night in particular some people crossed the line.

You and Astarion brought your own bottle of wine to start the evening, something to get you loose enough to put up with whatever was on tap. Occasionally you'd befriend some strangers, just for the evening. Astarion had a bad habit of making jokes about his vampirism, so you often avoided speaking to the same people again in case they'd look past his sarcasm.

This night in particular you'd come across quite the fun group, and you'd kindly shared some of your wine with them, which was a most rare occurrence. Soon enough you ran out, and Astarion offered to grab something else for the table.

"I'll be right back darling."

He has a habit of disappearing in most circles, but he's always nearby when it comes to you, especially in a place like this. Of course he's protective of you, all you truly have is each other. He'll walk to the bar and purchase a new bottle, keeping eyes, or at least ears on you the entire time he's away. Perks of loving an elf, as his heightened senses have come in handy multiple times.

"Well, that man of yours certainly is something."

A human man comments from across the table, taking a sip of your fancy wine.

"I know."

You smirk, taking a sip of your drink.

"I can't imagine he's all that in the bedroom though."

You almost spit out your wine, surprised by the audacity of this complete stranger.

"I'm sorry, but who are you?"

"Just someone who thinks you could do better."

"And what makes you say that?"

"Well, I could bed you for a change."

You almost want to throw up at how bold this man is being. Instead of dragging the conversation on any further, you grab your drink and go to stand up, trying to eye Astarion from across the room. The tavern was awfully busy, far more than usual. After realizing he was nowhere in sight, you move to make your way to the bar. Suddenly, there's a hand in your hair, yanking you back.

"Well that's no way to treat a nice young man, now is it?"

This human snarls in your ear. No one seems to notice the situation, as the crowd is bustling. It's not often you get scared of random tavern goers, but this man is far more handsy than others.

"Unhand me."

You go to grab for the knife hidden under the slit of your dress, realizing you forgot to grab it on the way out. Of course, tonight of all nights. Realizing you were trying to grab for a weapon, the human twists your wrist behind your back, making you yelp in pain.

Astarion had a hard time hearing that night because of all the overlapping conversation, but that sound was all he needed for his ears to perk up and for him to abandon his drink mission. He has a keen sense for knowing when you're in danger.

"Adorable, you think you're that strong huh?"

He goes to feel where you reached for your knife, lingering on your leg a little too long. Then, he freezes.

"Excuse me sir, could you show me where your pulse is in your neck? Make sure your blood's still pumping?"

Astarion has his dagger in hand behind your attacker. The human starts shaking, and slowly creeps his hand off of your leg and onto his neck.

"Very good. Now, if you'd like to keep that precious sustenance pumping through your veins and don't want me to pop your jaw out of it's socket, you'll unhand my wife."

He points the tip of his dagger right where the neck meets the jawline, almost drawing blood. Soon after the human unhands your hair, and scrambles away, not before Astarion leaves the tiniest knick in his neck: a reminder. You turn around and embrace the vampire, finally catching your breath. He lets you stay wrapped around his side as he guides you out of the tavern.

"Are you alright my love? Did he hurt you?"

"Just my scalp a little. I forgot my knife before we left, stupid mistake."

He lifts your chin up to make eye contact with him.

"You shouldn't have to be armed so some man won't harass you. Would I prefer you to have a weapon on you? Of course, but if you ever can't protect yourself, I will."

You start to tear up a little. It's been a while since you've been that scared, and no one seemed to notice. What would've happened if Astarion was too late?

"Look at me."

He wakes you from your thoughts.

"Let's go home. Perhaps this isn't the right place for us."

You wrap your arm around his, holding onto his sleeve. Darkvision is nice at times like this, since he can see much further than you. The walk home is quiet, and he doesn't mind. However, he is constantly eyeing nearby alleyways in case that man decides to get smart with him. When you get home you ball up on the sofa, and he makes sure the door is double-locked, something he doesn't often do considering he made the locks himself. He makes his way to the sofa, the plush velvet making a nice contrast to rickety wooden chairs of the tavern.

"Come here darling."

He pulls you back to lay on him, and he unclasps your necklace, placing it gently on the nearby table.

"Astarion?"

You look up at him.

"Yes my love?"

Tears prick at your eyes again. You have a hard time getting the words out, as if it's an embarrassing question.

"Will... will you always keep me safe?"

Your voice wavers. He starts massaging your shoulders.

"Of course my sweet Tav, I'll keep you safe as long as you live."

His voice lowered, a certain serious tone taking hold. Part of him felt guilty things even went as far as they did tonight, but he promised himself he'd never let it happen again.

"I love you."

He smiles. It's not often you just say 'I love you' to one another, it's usually said in many different ways, in actions, in pet names. You save it for serious moments, when it feels important to remind each other of your love, how it binds you.

"I love you too darling."

Nothing else is said. Soon enough you fall asleep as he rubs your back, peaceful and safe.

#astarion #astarion x reader #comfort #astarion x tav #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 #angst

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝙲𝙸𝙶𝙰𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚂 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙻𝙴𝙽 𝙱𝚁𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙷𝚂

description: in which Leah and Lessi take the Arsenal lot out to their favourite bar, and katie's crush suddenly becomes not so secret

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katie mccabe x female reader

disclaimer: this is all fiction do not take any of this seriously !

warnings: swearing, slightly suggestive and sexual, a few make-outs

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Katie had always liked to go out on a morning walk. Ever since she broke up with her girlfriend of seven years just over a year ago, Katie had made a good habit of getting up before 8am to go for a walk.

It used to help her think things through and try and get herself together before training. Now it just relaxes her, and let her see her.

The girl in question was someone who Katie had been watching for nearly four months now. Every weekday. Creepy, she was aware. But the gorgeous girl was just so intimidating.

She walked through London Colney with a coffee in one hand, a cigarette in the other and constantly listening to music on her rose gold beats.

Her outfits were fantastic and every time Katie watched her pass by, she would always send a kind smile from her perfectly painted lips.

Her skin was flawless, her hair like something form a L'Oreal commercial and her eyes were the most invasive and hauntingly beautiful things Katie had ever seen.

In conclusion, Katie was down bad. She loved the way her head bobbed to her music or the way the stranger would move her cigarette away from Katie, so she couldn't smell it as much.

And as Katie woke up today, Thursday, tomorrow would be the day before the Chelsea vs Arsenal match, she made herself a promise that she was going to speak to this girl today.

Katie made her way out of her apartment, happily humming along to the music as she walked her head down as she tried to think about where she could speak to the girl.

Just as Katie looked up there was a force into her chest and a squeak. There is a crash on the floor as iced coffee splashes onto the pavement.

Katie looks down and gulps as she realises the girl who has been occupying her thoughts all morning stood pressed against her chest, her coffee now scattered over the street.

"I'm so sorry lass, I wasn't lookin'." Katie apologises. The girl sends her a bright smile, shaking her head as she bends down and picks up the coffee cup and bins it.

"Please, it was my fault, in my own head this morning it seems." The girl denies, pulling her beats down to rest around her head, the faint sound of Hozier coming from them.

"What'cha in your own head about?" Katie questions kindly, the girl smiles.

"How to get you to come and speak to me." She giggles, her London accent pushing through her words.

Katie can't help the chuckle which escapes her lips, her secret admiring from afar clearly having been noticed by the beauty stood in front of her.

"Ahh, ya got me." Katie smiles. "Katie." She introduces, holding her hand out.

"I'm aware." The girl smiles, but shakes her hand anyway. "y/n." She adds.

"Beautiful name for a stunnin' girl." Katie beams and y/n smiles again, laughing lightly. She leans over and stubs out the cigarette, smiling softly.

"Apologies for the smoke, I'm sure you footballers try and steer clear." y/n hums.

"They kill ya, y'know?" Katie asks and y/n raises a brow.

"Really?" She gasps mockingly. "Thanks for the warning, I'll stop right away." She nods and Katie chuckles at the sarcasm.

"Ok ok, I was just sayin'." Katie surrenders and y/n laughs again, suddenly her phone vibrates, the Harry Potter theme tune echoing as she smiles apologetically at Katie and answers it.

"Alrigh' alrigh', I'm coming you prick!" She says lightly into the phone. She laughs at whatever is said. "I'll see you in a second babe." She hums.

Katie's heart sinks at the use of the pet-name, her once racing heart now slowing as the beautiful girl laughs again and hangs up the phone, Katie clear her throat.

"Boyfriend?" She asks, trying to not so subtly see if the girl was taken.

"Best friend." y/n hums at her and Katie's heart lifts slightly. "There's no one if that is what you're trying to figure out." y/n adds. "Besides, it wouldn't be a boyfriend." She adds.

At that confirmation Katie's heart leaps, she felt as if she had just scored against Chelsea already and it took everything in her not to whisper a small 'yes'.

"I have to go Katie love." y/n hums, the nickname making Katie almost shiver.

"Can I get your number?" Katie asks.

"Meet me here tomorrow, 8:15, iced caramel latte." y/n winks, before she sidesteps the woman and walks off, Katie turns but y/n just looks back and sends a wink before disappearing into a crowd of people.

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The next morning, Katie was stood at 8:10 with an iced caramel latte which she thought was far too cold for the already crisp morning, her head was up and waiting for the shorter girl who had occupied her thoughts for months.

"I'm impressed." y/n hummed, as she slid next to Katie, the woman's head snapping to her and a smile over-taking her features.

"M'lady." Katie grinned, handing her the drink.

y/n laughed, the sound as sweet as angels singing to Katie and the Irishwoman made a promise to herself to keep y/n laughing as long as she could, because the sound warmed her blood.

"Thank you." y/n smiled, her beats were resting around her neck once more and she began to walk and Katie followed quickly after, almost jolting into action.

"So, where are we going?" Katie asks.

"You are walking me to work, then I am assuming you have training before the big game tomorrow." y/n hums and Katie looks down at her.

"Okay." Katie nods. "You clearly know football." Katie adds and y/n chuckles as she moves through the crowd of people who were leaving from a tube station.

"You could say that, yeah." y/n nods as she checks the road, her spare hand, free of a cigarette today Katie noted, reaching down for Katie's.

y/n gripped it lightly and pulled her across the quiet road before dropping her hand once they got back onto the pavement. Katie found herself clenching and unclenching a fist to try and rid herself of the sparks which were left in y/n's wake.

The two made small talk for the next ten minutes, learning about each other's favourite colours and music tastes, laughs were shared more often that not.

However, the laughs shared were only due to the fact Katie was trying her best to be as funny as possible, desperate to hear the laugh from the stunning girl stood beside her.

"So, what do you do?" Katie asks, looking down at the girl sipping her coffee.

"I'm a barista and bartender." y/n explains as they near a coffee shop which Katie walked past everyday.

It was on the corner of her street, a relatively big venue which she remembered turned into a bar once evening settled over London. She'd never been in, having liked to stick to her favourite places.

If y/n worked here, she was kicking herself for being so bad at trying something new.

There were cute pastel wooden tables and chairs out the front, only a few since not many people sat outside during the winter. Inside were booths and comfy chairs.

Cushions, blankets and a long bar decorated the coffee shop, a window of pastries and cakes sat out as well. A girl was bustling around, mouthing along to the music as she waved at y/n through the window.

y/n waved back and turned to Katie, who she noticed was looking at the six cats lying lazily inside the coffee shop and she chuckled as Katie then looked at her.

"We are not supposed to be a cat cafe, but they were all rescues and people love them so they stay." y/n explains.

She then smiles as Katie looks at her watch, sighing at the fact that she would have to get back to her place, which luckily wasn't far and head over for their long day of training.

"Thanks for walking me." y/n adds, she leans up and pecks Katie's cheek, leaving the woman slightly stunned for a moment. "See you soon!" y/n calls.

"Wait, what does that mean?" Katie asks, but y/n just ignores her as her friend lets her in and they begin to set up the open for nine am. Katie sighs, but know she is going to be late if she doesn't go.

So, with one last fleeting look at the gorgeous girl who was laughing at something, Katie touched her cheek and set off home.

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The next day, Katie's head was far to focused to let many thoughts of y/n slip through, a few had, she wasn't afraid to admit, in fact the idea of the smiling girl was keeping her rather calm.

As they stepped out onto the pitch, Katie could hardly hear her heartbeat over the screams of the Arsenal fans, but she rolled her shoulders back and waited.

As soon as the whistle went for kick off Katie's blood pumped and the fire in her heart roared as she ran, she hardly payed attention to the people shouting her name.

The clock ban to tick, minutes running from them as Katie crossed the ball into the box, Beth Mead finding it and burying it in the back of the net.

Shouts of excitement echoed, Katie launching at Beth and shouting in happiness as they were surrounded. The group runs back to reset and Katie looks over to the crowd.

People jumped and cheered for her, for Beth, for them, a suddenly determination pushed through her to play the game at the same level or better.

As the half time whistle blew, the group couldn't believe they were three - one up against Chelsea. Katie was walking toward the tunnel when she saw her.

Leah was next to her the two talking animatedly about something, she was in a black puffer coat zipped and had an Arsenal beanie on her head.

Leah saw Katie watching and waved at her sending her a proud nod, then y/n turned, a wink sent Katie's way before she turned back to Leah and the continued talking.

As Katie got into the changing room, her heart continued to race, the cheeky eyes of y/n pushing through her body, the name ringing in her head.

Of course. Leah and Alessia often talked about their joint friend, the one who Leah had said she owed her happiness too, the girl having met her when Leah was crying drunk in the bar about her ACL.

Leah who was alone, was helped by y/n who let the blonde stay the night, cooked her breakfast in the morning and then answered Alessia's worried phone call.

Once Alessia finally came to Arsenal Leah had happily introduced to the girl she had described her angel, and while the team had never met her, she was often talked about.

Of course the girl Katie was crushing on was her, of course it bloody was. And as Katie stepped outside for the second half, suddenly her determination grew.

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y/n felt awful, she truly did, but just after Alessia had scored her penalty her best friend had called and asked her into work explaining they had a newbie call in sick.

Leah promised her it was okay and that she would see the golden retriever of a human later. y/n had left Leah with a kind hug and ran off, and as she left the stands, she saw Katie's shoulders deflate.

However, y/n couldn't think about that, she changed into a red jumpsuit and quickly switched into work mode, her make-up done in twenty minutes and her hair scraped back into a long ponytail.

Several hours passed, y/n doing her job when her best friend and boss, Jamie came over, the woman placing her hand on y/n's shoulders.

"Haley's here now y/n/n, you can go and get ready for your fist set of the night." Jamie said as y/n served another drink, Haley nodding at y/n kindly as she slid onto the bar.

"Sure Mimi, Leah here yet?" y/n asked and Jamie nodded, pointing over to the VIP section where the group stood.

"You okay with serving them when you're not playing?" Jamie asked and y/n nodded as she moved around Adam, another server of the night.

"Yeah course." y/n grinned, the VIP section had it's own bar so the VIP's didn't need to wait in line.

y/n checked her face in the mirror, noticing Katie stood slightly out of eyeline in her jeans and tight black tank top, her arms almost making y/n choke.

y/n then slid over to the section, her arms wrapping around the familiar blonde who had played so well in the match. Recognising the feeling Alessia beamed.

"Angel!" Leah cheered noticing her as Alessia turned and bear-hugged the girl.

"Hi my loves." y/n hummed. "You were so good today, I am so sorry I had to leave early." y/n praised to Alessia who smiled brightly.

"It's okay, Lee explained." She promised her friend who smiled before sliding under the bar.

"Right ladies, this is the angel y/n we go on about." Leah said, as she quickly went around the group that had come out.

"Kim, Kyra, Cloe, Caitlin, Katie." Alessia began.

"Lotta hard k's." y/n joked and Leah chuckled.

"Lotte, Manu, Jen, Steph, Laura, Laia, Amanda, Frida, Lia, Victoria, Lina, Stina." Leah continued.

"And you obviously know Beth and Viv." Alessia finished, the couple the only two to have met y/n in the recent months.

"Yes, hi all, I'm y/n, I am your bartender tonight so yay me, and I know all of your names anyway." y/n added. "Also, great game today." She adds.

A chorus of thank yous echo before y/n sighs and looks out at the sea of 21 players and rubbed her hands together before opening the till and getting ready to start the tab.

"What we drinking?" She asks. After about twenty minutes, each player had a drink, other than Katie who waited patiently.

Leah had noticed the way Katie had lingered around the bar, the way her eyes followed y/n's every move as she made the drinks, somewhere in the back of her mind she realised what a good couple the two could make.

"Let me guess? A Guinness?" y/n asked, rolling her eyes as Katie grinned. "Of course you have the longest pouring drink last." She adds.

Usually, if people ordered a Guinness last on their orders y/n would rage, because it meant she would have to wait for it to settle before moving on, but as she looked at Katie, she didn't care.

"Why didn't ya mention you knew Lee and Less, oh and Beth and Viv?" Katie asks and y/n shrugs.

"You never asked." She tells Katie as she stops the Guinness letting the liquor settle.

"Fair enough." Katie chuckled, y/n smiled softly her head turning briefly to check the clock.

"You played well today." y/n said quietly. "I didn't realise you could be so violent." She adds and Katie smirks.

"I'm as scary as they come me." Katie grins and y/n laughs which widens Katie's grin.

"Well, you're alright. I'll give you that." y/n chuckles, Katie leans forward on the bar, her arms tensing.

y/n's gaze moves down to the tanned skin which sat there and she gulped before looking away and finishing the Guinness. Katie notices her gaze and smirks.

"Just alrigh'?" She asks teasingly but y/n just places the Guinness on the bar.

"Order up." She smiles before moving to where Jamie stood, Katie smirked at the girl's flustered cheeks and turned to lean on the bar, her eyes catching Leah's who sent her a knowing wink and a smile.

She'd been given permission, that was what Leah had given her there, she had said with her eyes 'I see it, I'm okay with it.' and Katie relaxed with that.

"Yes!" Alessia suddenly said, and the group turned to see y/n suddenly on the stage with the DJ and a live band.

"Right, yes yes, hello." y/n said into the mic, the crowd suddenly screaming and Katie furrowed her brows. "Okay, it's a Saturday night, most here are gooners, I know." y/n continued.

The crowd got louder at that and y/n laughed, the cheers were directed toward the VIP section, but Katie was impressed at the way no one had tried to sneak to them.

She loved the fans, she did, but they could be crazy, so the fact none of them had tried to approach just showed how good this bar really was she supposed.

"Not all of us." The guitarist suddenly chimed in, his long hair pushing out of his face as he nodded his head at y/n who laughed.

"Come on you irons!" She cheered, several loud cheers ringing out.

"She's a Hammers fan?" Jen asked Leah in shock and Leah laughed, nodding her head.

"Hammer-head yeah." Leah grinned and the Arsenal group shared a laugh.

"Anyway, let's fucking party." y/n said before the song kicked in. Katie almost jumped at the trumpets playing from the recording and as the drum began people danced.

"Well there is something going down! Like the storm in the sky. Oh." y/n sang, her voice powerful.

Katie's eyes widened at her live voice, so good, so powerful, so free and as her teammates began to dance to the song Katie couldn't help but watch y/n as she performed into the chorus.

"Mama knows best when, times get a hard! And papa always has a joke, to make me laugh. See mama knows best when, I feel down, to pick me up and always keep my feet on solid ground." y/n continued.

Katie didn't think she could have fallen any harder, but the second y/n started singing, she realised how wrong she was.

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After an hour of Katie's teammates dancing around her while she stared in shock at y/n who was performing as if she was at Wembley. The singer thanked the crowd and said she would be back in an hour.

She then disappeared into the sea of people and despite trying, Katie could no longer see her. She sighed and shook her head when Leah slid next to her.

"So, you seem to know y/n somewhat?" Leah asks Katie, a relaxed tone in her voice.

"It's all a bit confusin' really." Katie admitted. "We pass each other on our morning walks and then the other day we just crashed into each other, talked and then I walked her to work yesterday." Katie explains.

"Right, and how long have you been seeing her on your walks?" Leah asks, raising a brow.

"4 months, and I know it sounds bad, and I had no idea who she was before it clicked at the game, but I've continued those walks, just to see her." Katie winces.

"She's like that. Totally addictive." Leah nods and Katie pauses.

"Have you and her - uh..." Katie begins, Leah bursts into laughter, shaking her head.

"No, god no!" Leah denies. "She's just my friend, my best friend really, but she just has this way about her, I can't explain it." Leah hums.

"She fuckin' stunnin' as well." Katie sighs and Leah chuckles.

"I think you'd be good together." Leah adds to Katie who smiles at her in thanks. "She's never really been one for relationships, her last one ended well, but I think she just got scared of it again." Leah adds.

"I didn't think she'd be scared of a thing." Katie hummed and Leah chuckles.

"Wait til you see her around a spider." She warns and Katie laughs as she looks around for her.

"Looking for someone?" A call asks, the two turning around to see y/n pouring Caitlin another drink, the footballer cheering when it's passed to her.

"Angel, as fantastic as always." Leah grins and y/n laughs sending a wink her way.

"Had to impress tonight, we had some VIP's in the house." y/n grins and Leah chuckles.

"Katie's got something to ask you." Leah nods, before walking away leaving Katie silently panicking as she tries to play it off cool.

"Do you?" y/n asks Katie.

"Date me!" Katie says suddenly, before wincing and sighing as she tries not to hit herself in the face. "I mean, go on a date with me?" Katie asks. "Please?" She adds.

"I'd love to." y/n smiles and Katie grins.

"Really?" She asks.

"Of course Katie." y/n smiles. "Now, give me your phone while I pour you another drink." She orders and Katie does so, watching as y/n taps her number in, stopping the Guinness pouring without looking up so she can let it settle.

"I didn't know you could sing either." Katie adds before y/n sends her a look. "Right, didn't ask." Katie nods again.

"Come on." y/n hums as Jamie takes her place, handing her a coat.

"Where are we goin'?" Katie asks, but she takes y/n's outstretched hand never-the-less and lets her pull her out the back and to a small covered area with two heat lamps and a table.

"Smoking shed." y/n says obviously as she lights a cigarette up and turns the heat lamps on.

"You sing and you smoke." Katie says. "Isn't that like oxymoronic?" She asks and y/n shrugs.

Katie moves forward to take the cigarette from the girl but hisses when a harsh slap is placed on the back of her hand.

"Bleedin' woman!" Katie curses and y/n grins happily as she inhales once more on the cigarette. "What'cha do that for?" Katie adds.

"You tried to take my cigarette." y/n says simply, and Katie huffs before darting forward again, trying to reach for the stick, y/n shrieks and skirts around the table, trying to run away.

Katie however is already quicker than her and isn't wearing heels like she is and wraps her arms tightly around y/n so she can grip the cigarette carefully and throw it onto the floor.

"Katie!" y/n whines out in annoyance, turning around to face the footballer who kept a tight grip on her waist. "I wanted that." She huffs.

"I want you." Katie says without thinking. y/n looks at her a small smile on her face before she lets out a laugh, Katie smiling sheepishly as y/n grips her shoulders as she giggles.

"Somehow, that was both smooth and terrible." y/n giggles and Katie chuckles with her.

"I'm not usually this shit at flirtin'." She promises and y/n chuckles.

"Well, let's see if your better at kissing." She mutters before her lips are on Katie's.

The Irishwoman was definitely better at kissing than she was flirting, her lips softly pressing against y/n's before she pushed her hips forward, causing y/n to stumble back into the table.

At the move, y/n gasped, her mouth opening just enough for Katie to dive her tongue in and her hands came up to keep y/n's head in place. Suddenly she was everywhere in her mouth.

It was as if she was mapping y/n's mouth with her own, every inch she could reach being touched by her tongue which finally came to clash into y/n's with the passion of four months of obsession.

Katie didn't slow down as she slid her hands down, lifting y/n onto the table so she could work at a better angle. Her hands pawing at her waist, thighs and hips.

The two parted briefly before diving back in, y/n's hands holding tightly onto Katie's shoulders, her grip tightening further when Katie's lips wondered down her neck, burning the skin she touched.

Katie bit down against y/n's shoulder as she kissed back up, y/n letting out a soft whimper at the action which was better than Katie could have dreamed of.

"If I don't stop now, I'll fuck you into this table." Katie whispered breathlessly against y/n's ear and she sighed, the two pulling away breathless and aroused.

"Definitely better at kissing." y/n breathed, eyes wide and pupils dilated. Katie laughed at that, pressing another chaste kiss to her lips before sighing.

"Come on, lets get inside." She hums and y/n nods. "So, I'll pick you up tomorrow at six?" She asks as they move to the door.

"Only if you stay the night." y/n counters back and Katie smirks.

"I intend on it." She promises lowly and y/n grins as they re-join the bar.

y/n's eyes find Leah's and the blonde smirks at her before smiling and y/n smiles back as she slides back under the bar and finishes off Katie's Guinness which had been more than settled, the woman waiting for it with a smirk.

"Order up!"

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

END

this is my christmas gift to you all! you get three fics from me today - so look out for the third later on xoxoxox

-

Queenie x

#woso #woso x reader #woso x y/n #woso community #woso soccer #england lionesses #leah williamson #alessia russo #lotte wubben moy #katie mccabe #arsenal women #arsenal women x reader #awfc #arsenal wfc #beth mead #beth mead and vivianne miedema #katie mccabe imagine #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe x y/n #chelsea fc women #lauren james #chelsea fcw #niamh charles #guro reiten #sam kerr #kim little #caitlin foord #kyra cooney cross #chloe lacasse #jen beattie

[danikamariewrites]

can i please request on with acotar men x reader where reader adopts characteristics that they do, like for cassian maybe reader starts joking more or with rhysand she acts the way he do. like with couples irl they usually start doing stuff the their s/o do. like she starts using words they do, act the way they do. and they notice! and think it’s the cutest thing ever. someone says

“ wait you sound exactly like eris when you say that “

or like with lucien maybe she starts wearing more rings/braiding her hair more👀

Characteristics hc

Acotar men x Reader

A/n: this is so cute omg

Warnings: none

Rhysand

You picked up Rhys’s smirk about a year after being together. Whenever you look at each other everyone always jokes about your twin smirks with the same twinkle in your eyes

You also start licking at invisible lint on your clothes

Rhys notices and feels bad bc he hates the habit but you made a joke about it once which leads to you both always joke about fake lint

Azriel

You picked up keeping your hands behind you back

Whenever you’re next to him you hold his hand behind your backs. It’s a little way to show him that you’re with him and love him

You also pick up giving him side glances which he notices

It becomes your secret little language

Cassian

You develop Cassian’s sense of humor

You start joking around with him and the IC way more

You both switch between your laugh and Cassian’s laugh which makes you guys laugh even harder

Lucien

Lucien always does random little braids in his hair that you love so you start doing them in your own hair

I think Lucien wears gold jewelry so you start wearing more gold

Luc notices both of these things and starts helping you do your braids and buys you more gold jewelry to match him

Eris

From Eris, you picked up his sarcasm and the little eyebrow raise he does with it

Eris noticed immediately when you started doing it and his heart swelled

He loved that you picked up his mannerisms and never wanted you to stop

Lucien noticed once and it freaked him out

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #acotar headcanons #azriel x reader #cassian acotar x reader #rhysand x reader #lucien vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x reader

[itneverendshere]

guilty conscience (+18)

chapter i

pairing: rafe cameron x female!reader

summary: when ward cameron, a renowned business man and millionaire specifically requested your services through an escort agency, you assumed it would be just another job—brief and straightforward. however, your entire world shifted when ward disclosed his true intentions and rafe cameron stumbled into your life. there were rules, and rules were meant to be followed.

was money worth breaking someone’s heart?

When your agency informed you that Ward Cameron was interested in hiring you for the entire summer, you weren’t the least bit fazed. 

A millionaire spending money on escorts? Groundbreaking.

But you were pleased to be the one getting paid.

The prospect of being hired for the entire summer by a millionaire was more than appealing, especially since it meant a steady stream of income without having to worry about searching for new clients.

You hoped that he wouldn't turn out to be a creep, like a few of the clients you had encountered in the past. While most of them were respectful, aware of the rules, and simply seeking companionship, there were always a few who made the experience an absolute nightmare.

But you remained optimistic. Ward Cameron's reputation preceded him as a successful and influential man. Nonetheless, it was wise to keep your guard up.

“Ward Cameron? As in the millionaire?!" Serena's surprise was palpable even through the phone. You called her the moment you got the email, your brain barely functioning.

"Yeah, that's the one," You confirmed, "You think I should take it? It’s just... it's a whole summer commitment. What if he's, like, super weird or something?”

“Do I think you should take it? Do I think—, duh, yes! Worst-case scenario, you bail after a week and come crash at my place.”

Serena's response came through with all the enthusiasm you expected from her. She was always the one to push you out of your comfort zone, in the best possible way.

"Pretty girl, you gotta seize the opportunity!" She continued, her excitement contagious even over the phone. "A millionaire summer gig? That's like winning the lottery, but, you know, better!"

You couldn't help but laugh, "Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, Serena."

"You know me, always the supportive friend," she a quipped back, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You've got a point," you chuckled, shaking your head. "But seriously, what do you think?"

Serena's tone softened. "Honestly, it sounds like a sweet deal. A whole summer with a rich man? Sign me up. I mean, come on," she insisted. "Think of all the fancy parties, luxurious fits, and who knows what else! Plus, hello? Ka-ching!" She added, and you knew she was making a money gesture with her hand even though you couldn’t see her.

You couldn't help but grin at her enthusiasm. "Yeah, the paycheck isn't too shabby either."

"Just be sure to keep your pepper spray handy. You never know with these rich fuckers."

"Got it," you replied, rolling your eyes. "But hey, if he's anything like his reputation, it could be smooth sailing."

"Here's to hoping," Serena said, sounding genuinely hopeful. "Just promise me you'll spill all the juicy details when you get back."

"You know I will," you replied, already picturing the gossip-filled catch-up session you'd have with her at the end of the summer. "Thanks for telling me off the ledge."

"Anytime, babe," she said, her voice warm with affection. "Now go get 'em”.

The evening to meet him eventually arrived, and you found yourself seated at a luxurious table in a fancy restaurant nestled in the heart of Beverly Hills, with soft lighting casting a warm glow over the sophisticated decor. You were clad in a backless gold Dior gown that shimmered under the soft lighting. Your first big splurge years ago.

The dress hugged your curves in all the right places, its sleek silhouette exuding elegance. The plunging neckline revealed a hint of décolletage, adding a touch of allure to the ensemble.

It was a statement piece, designed to turn heads and command attention. You knew what you were doing, how to play the game.

There was no rookie move on your part, ever. You’d chosen it carefully, wanting to make a lasting impression on Ward without overshadowing the refined ambiance of your surroundings.

No matter how many times you did it, how confident you became in your craft, you still felt your heart pounding as you waited for him. He was certainly the most influential man you had ever encountered, and that kind of power freaked you the fuck out.

Moments later, he sauntered into the restaurant, every inch the epitome of sophistication. His suit was impeccably tailored to fit his frame. Each stitch seemed to scream, "I have money to burn." 

Which he did. 

You couldn't help but wonder just how much that suit cost.

Hundreds? Thousands? It was probably more money than you made in a month, maybe even two. Yet, there he was, wearing it like it was no big deal.

As he approached your table, a subtle smile played at the corners of his lips.

"Good evening, Mr. Cameron," you greeted him, rising to your feet with a polite smile. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person."

"Ward, please," he replied smoothly, extending his hand for a handshake. "The pleasure is all mine. You look even more stunning than your photos."

You accepted his handshake, "Thank you, Ward. Shall we?" You gestured toward our table, and he nodded in agreement.

You found yourself scrutinizing his every move, trying to break down his intentions behind that charming facade.

“So tell me, what drove you into this…industry?”

The way he said it rubbed you the wrong way. His tone seemed condescending, which didn’t surprise you at all. It seemed like there was more behind his question than just casual curiosity. Was he testing you?

It felt as though he was probing, searching for something beyond the surface level. His demeanor carried a hint of arrogance that grated against your nerves. 

And honestly, you had punched men for lesser. 

Suppressing the urge to roll your eyes, you maintained your polite smile.

"Well, Ward, it's a combination of factors, really," You began, choosing your words carefully. "I've always been intrigued by the dynamics of human connection and the opportunity to create meaningful experiences for others."

Bullshit. 

You almost wanted to laugh at how easily the lie came out of your lips.

You did this because it was easy money. After all, men were stupid enough to pay for you to sit next to them at events, they were pawns, a means to an end, always. 

You watched his expression closely, noting the subtle shift in his demeanor. It was as though your response had piqued his interest, just like you planned. But you couldn’t underestimate a man of his caliber, surely, he wasn’t as easy to manipulate as the guy next door. 

Ward nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. 

"Interesting," he mused, his tone neutral. "It's rare to find someone who approaches this line of work with such... philosophical perspective."

You resisted the urge to bristle at his comment, choosing instead to deflect.

"Well, I've always been a romantic at heart," you replied, injecting a hint of playfulness into your tone. "I suppose it's just part of my charm."

Again, bullshit. But he seems more interested in your shiny pink lipgloss than the words coming out of them.

 Men. 

To your relief, Ward chuckles softly, the tension in the air dissipating slightly.

"Indeed," he conceded, a hint of warmth softening his features. "Charm certainly seems to be one of your many qualities."

The dinner went smoothly. You let him show off and order for the both of you, complimenting his choice of wine even though it tasted like absolute shit, and you would have rather drown a beer than drink that ever again. But alas, there was a façade to maintain. 

Ward regaled you with stories of his business ventures, his travels, and his philanthropic endeavors. You listened attentively, nodding and smiling at all the right moments, even if you would rather shoot yourself in the foot than listen to another white savior tale of his. 

“If you don’t mind, Ward, I’d like to discuss our arrangement.”

His eyebrows rose in curiosity as he set down his wine glass, turning his attention fully to you. "Of course, my dear. Straight down to business, I like that.”

Ew. 

You leaned back in your chair, “I’m sure you’ve been informed about the agency’s policy. I’d just like to know what events you’d like me to attend.”

Ward's only stared at you for a moment before he leaned foward, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. "Ah, yes, the agency's policy. Quite straightforward, isn't it?" He mused, swirling the wine in his glass absently.

You nodded, keeping your expression neutral, though inside, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of apprehension. What have you gotten yourself into?

“Indeed.” you replied evenly, your voice betraying none of your inner turmoil.

“I’m afraid this job is going to be a little different from what you’re used to, honey.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a knot forming in the pit of your stomach. What the hell was that supposed to mean? You had encountered your fair share of peculiar clients in the past, but something about Ward's demeanor sent a shiver down your spine. 

Suppressing the urge to bolt from your seat, you forced a polite smile and nodded, trying to maintain an air of professionalism, “I see. Different in what way?" 

He sighed, running a hand through his greyish hair, “Truth is, I didn’t hire you for myself.”

You blinked, trying to process Ward's words as your mind tried not to jump into the worst possible case scenario. What did he mean he didn't hire you for himself? 

“I don’t understand?”

Ward studied you with a calculating gaze. "I apologize for any confusion," he began, his tone measured. "You see, I didn't hire you to be my companion for the summer."

A cold knot of dread formed in the pit of your stomach. You hated people who can’t just jump straight to the point, circling the subject like a stupid party trick. 

"Then who did you hire me for?" you asked. 

Ward's lips curled into a knowing smile, and for a moment, you felt a surge of panic coursing through you.

"I hired you for my son."

Okay, what the fuck.

You were positive your face probably gave away your exact thoughts, because he was speaking again before you could spit out the words. 

Ward continued, his tone taking on a note of urgency. "You see, my son has been going through a difficult time lately.”

You only hoped you were not about to get roped into spending the entire summer with a man-child.

“Define difficult.”

“Two years ago he recovered from a drug addiction.”

You didn’t want to sound like an insensitive bitch, but drug addiction problems were more than common among the rich kids.

“Okay. And?”

“And he’s better now. He’s great, actually—“

“But?” You interrupted with a tilt of you head, “What’s the catch?”

“Recently, he’s been spending time with a girl, who I do not approve of.”

Roping you into a situation like this felt incredibly manipulative, not to mention unfair to both you and his son. You were not born to put up with other people family drama.

“Why don’t you approve of her?”

Ward snorts, wiping his lips with the napkin, “She’s not good enough for him. Hangs around with the kind of people that ruined his life.”

"And you think hiring me to spend time with your son will somehow fix…this?" you asked, skepticism lacing your tone.

“You’re not just spending time with him, honey.”

“Excuse me?”

He brought his hands to his face, rubbing, “I need you to date him.”

He must be out of his fucking mind.

You couldn't help but burst into laughter. The absurdity of the situation struck you harder, “Date him?" you repeated between cracks, shaking your head in disbelief. 

The man was clearly going through a mid-life crisis because there was no fucking way he was being serious.

Ward's expression darkened, his brows furrowing in irritation as your laughter filled the restaurant. 

"Is something amusing?" his voice cut through the air like a blade.

You struggled to stifle your laughter, the weight of his serious tone finally sinking in.

"I'm sorry," you managed to say between chuckles, though the amusement still lingered in your voice. "I thought you weren’t serious.”

Ward's jaw clenched, “You think I’d be here if I wasn’t serious?” he snapped, his tone stern. "My time is money.”

"Well, forgive me for finding the situation...unexpected," you reply, exaggeratedly flicking your gaze upward. "But hiring someone to date your son? That's not exactly normal.”

Ward's eyes narrowed slightly, his irritation palpable. "It's necessary," he retorted, his tone sharp. "My son's well-being is at stake here.”

Fucking dramatic. Rich people would never fail to amuse you with their hobbies.

Paying someone to date his son? It sounded like something straight out of a soap opera. But you knew better than to let your mouth get the best of you, especially when there was money on the line.

You held his gaze, unflinching. "And you think that hiring me to date him is the solution?" 

“Yes.”

Ward's answer was curt, leaving no room for further discussion.

Dating his son was definitely not what you had signed up for, but the allure of the paycheck had you second-guessing your morals.

Realistically, Ward's son would probably never like you, you’d date for a few weeks, keep him away from the girl of his dreams, get paid and ta-dah.

"Alright. I'll hear you out, what exactly do you expect from me in this...arrangement?"

"You’ll be staying in the Outer Banks. I’ll pay for your tickets and accommodations. You’ll be paid weekly, extras will be included.” 

“Extras?” 

The word lingered in the air. It sent alarm bells ringing in your mind.

“Listen, your agency’s has a policy, I don’t care if you break it or not, you do whatever you gotta do.” 

You snap, tired of biting your tongue, "I'm not a prostitute."

Ward's brows shot up, his expression momentarily taken aback by your bluntness. "Pardon me?" 

You could feel the weight of his stare, analyzing your every move, every expression. But you refused to back down. You had principles, lines you wouldn't cross, no matter the paycheck.

"I said, I'm not a prostitute," you reiterated, "I don't engage in any activities that cross the line of professional companionship.”

Ward's jaw clenched as he assessed you, as though trying to decipher whether you were bluffing or not.

Finally, he spoke, his voice laced with thinly veiled frustration. "Fine," he relented, his tone icy. "But do remember you're replaceable."

Of course, he would resort to threats when he didn't get his way.

Typical.

"I'm well aware of that," you replied coolly, refusing to let him see any sign of weakness. "But if you want me to do this, it's going to be on my terms. Take it or leave it."

Ward's lips tightened into a thin line, "As you wish," he bit out, his tone dripping with irritation. "But don't expect any special treatment."

You gave him a tight-lipped smile, hiding the satisfaction bubbling inside you. "Wouldn't dream of it."

What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron au #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fic #rafe x reader #rafe cameron angst #rafe angst #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe rec #rafe imagine #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe

[wishesunderthestars]

The King's Advisor // Ch. 1

Pairings: King!Yoongi x Advisor!reader

Summary: The king's advisor is the most crucial position in the kingdom, the king trusts her judgment and always listens to her opinions and advice. They are a formidable pair but behind closed doors, the king and his advisor bicker and throw back-handed insults at each other more often than not. The feelings of dislike are very much mutual. She is a champion at testing the King’s patience because she knows she is too valuable to his rule to face repercussions. So it’s bickering and sarcasm dripping from their lips–

Until war breaks out.

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 5.6k+

Warnings: war, injuries

“Well, that was stupid,” you said, leaning back on the chair and crossing your legs.

Yoongi, who had just closed the wooden doors of the council room, turned to look at you with raised eyebrows. The meeting of the King’s Council had just ended and it was just the two of you left inside.

“I beg your pardon?”

You huffed. “That boy isn’t ready to be a captain, he isn’t ready to be a lieutenant even. He doesn’t have the barest idea of how to lead, he can barely fight himself. The fact that his father used to be captain doesn't mean anything.”

“His family is one of the most influential in the kingdom, I couldn’t deny him the position,” Yoongi said. “I don’t want any disputes with them and there would have been a lot if I didn't promote him to his father’s position.”

You leaned your elbows on the long table. “You could have given him a smaller team, told him you would promote him to a larger one when he was ready. Would you trust him to lead a hundred men into a battle? Or defend a city? Because I wouldn’t.”

Yoongi stood opposite you. His long blond hair was pulled up into a neat topknot with a gold and black headband securing it in place. “His family wouldn’t be happy with that. They would question whether I trust them and whether they have done enough for the kingdom.”

“I, for one, don’t trust them,” you said. “They have been salivating after the throne for years, looking for higher and higher ranks in the military and positions in your council. If anyone ever tries to overthrow you, it will be them.”

Yoongi put his hands on the table, bending forward. “Don’t you think I know that? That’s why they don’t have a seat on my council and why you are here instead of their eldest son.”

“If their eldest son were in my place, you would already be dead,” you said getting up.

“Watch your tongue.” Yoongi gritted his teeth, a fire burning in his eyes. The day had been hard on him, he had been in meetings since the morning and he had several hours of sword fighting practice as well. It was easier to rile him up when he was tired and you were the only one who wouldn’t pay for it.

You got up and sauntered up to him. “And if I don’t? You know as well as I do that he won’t be a good captain. He isn’t ready for it and he might never be ready for it. His team will be a liability.”

“I know what I’m doing. An incompetent captain is better than a family with connections like a spiderweb planting words against me.”

“If I heard word of that, I would cut off their webs with silver scissors. They aren’t the only ones with connections,” you said. “Things are tense on our northern borders, we shouldn’t be treating military positions lightly.”

Yoongi narrowed his eyes, up close you could see the reflection of the candles in them. “The-”

A knock on the door interrupted him and you both turned to look. The door opened without any announcements or permission from the King. Namjoon walked inside, his short brown hair combed back, splashes of ink on his white sleeves, and a few papers in his hands. Namjoon was the only person other than you who could barge into the council room like this and face no repercussions.

He took one look at the two of you and closed the door behind him.

“What are you arguing about this time?" he asked. You rolled your eyes and Yoongi scoffed. "Forget it, I don't need to know. We have to go over these papers so get comfortable."

Wordlessly, Yoongi sat down on the chair at the head of the table and the two of you took the ones next to him. Namjoon had missed the meeting because of these papers so they had to be important.

You and Namjoon were the King's most trusted members of the Council. The three of you would often gather late at night or early in the morning to discuss matters of the kingdom and make the difficult decisions.

Namjoon was the son of one of the best warriors the kingdom had ever seen and it had been a surprise when Namjoon hadn't followed in his father's footsteps, choosing books and ink over sword and armor. He had soon become known for his smarts and his eloquent speech—he was the one who went over the King's speeches, putting into words what Yoongi couldn't—and had been easily granted a place in the King's Council. His friendship with the King had a lot of people doubting the decision but soon he proved that he belonged there as much as anyone else. More really.

Unlike Namjoon, you and Yoongi hadn't been friends at any point in your life that you could remember. Maybe when you had been too young to read or write and you were hiding behind your mother's skirts, but not since then. Your father had been the late King's advisor and as his only child, you had been prepared to take his place since you could pick up a pen. He and your mother didn't have any other children and the fact that you were a girl didn't deter them, none of the past King's advisors had been female but your father was determined you would be the first one.

You had spent days and nights over books guided by your father and the best teachers in the kingdom, the same ones teaching the future king. You would see each other occasionally but didn't exchange more than a few words. During your teenage years, your fathers deemed it wise for the two of you to share a few of your lessons, you needed to build trust between you if you were to work together in the future. Instead of friendship, a rivalry brewed. You didn't remember how it started but you couldn't forget how it continued. Exchanging jabs about who was the best at which lessons and who did better at tests. Glaring and provoking each other.

When his father passed on and Yoongi ascended to the throne, it was his time to choose his personal advisor. You had been training for the position all of your life but you were still surprised when he asked you, bearing the gift of a gold bracelet engraved with flowers and embellished with precious stones. The King had to base his decisions on many factors but the most important was trust. Trust to work towards a bright future for the kingdom. Trust to support him through everything.

You didn't ask him why he chose you, you didn't voice any of your questions about trust. For years, you worked together and it was almost like nothing had changed from your teen days.

Half of the candles had gone out by the time you had gone over all of the papers. Your eyes hurt and a headache was brewing behind your temples. Your usual late nights ended earlier than this.

Namjoon gathered the papers with clumsy movements. Yoongi had to catch one before it flew away after Namjoon shoved it off the table.

"I think I may fall asleep if I stay any longer," Namjoon said when all the papers were safely in his arms. You could relate to that. "I would recommend going to sleep now. Have a good night."

You echoed his words and he left. The door closing was the only sound in the dimly lit council room.

You rubbed your eyes and looked at the King. His hair was coming undone and it glinted like threads of gold in the candlelight. His sharp eyes were softer, the way they got at night when his walls weren't as high as the castle's.

"I will be going then," you said, getting up and smoothing down your dress. There was no reason to do it, no one other than the guards would see you at this time. It was more out of force of habit than anything else.

"Wait for a moment," Yoongi said. You stopped before you could move to the door. "The Lee boy will be trained under Hoseok. He will be answering to him and if anything goes wrong I trust Hoseok to make it right. I wouldn't jeopardize the safety of the kingdom."

"It still doesn't sit right with me," you said. You knew that Yoongi had the best interests of the kingdom in mind but that didn't mean you always agreed. More often than not, you didn't. "But that's enough for tonight. It's late and frankly, I'm too exhausted to debate about the Lees. We can talk more about this tomorrow."

Yoongi opened his mouth and closed it again. "Don't forget a lamp. Unless you want to walk in the dark."

"Of course," you muttered, annoyed that Yoongi had to remind you. The torches in the hallways would have gone out a long time ago. "I would have remembered to take one."

"I don't doubt it," Yoongi said,  smirking. Ignoring him, you picked up an oil lamp from the top of a large chest and tilted it close to one of the lit candles to share the flame. "Goodnight then."

"Goodnight, my king."

You saw his eyebrows twitch before leaving the room. He wasn't fond of his friends using his title to address him. You wouldn't exactly put yourself in that category but you didn't use his title when it was the two of you, you didn't use it in the council either. You would throw it out there occasionally just to see his reaction.

The guards were standing at attention on either side of the door, their hands on their long swords. They stared ahead as you walked down the empty corridor.

A few days later, you strolled into the private training grounds. It was a wide space surrounded by trees, right next to the gardens accessible only to the royal family. You were one of the few exceptions.

The continuous sound of metal clashing on metal rang in the otherwise silent place. The swords glinted and glimmered, reflecting the light of the midday sun. Yoongi and Hoseok were sparring, their movements so quick they were but a blur.

Yoongi's hair was pulled up in a tight knot and sweat was running down his face and his sculpted chest. His shirt was thrown aside, too much of a nuisance after what looked like several hours of practice. You had to swallow to ease the dryness in your throat.

You watched them—transfixed by their deadly dance—until the King's eyes locked with yours.  Others would have cowered at the power in his gaze but you held it steadily like you had done all your life. One second of distraction and Hoseok's sword touched his pale neck, a whisper away from drawing blood.

"And I win," Hoseok said. He turned around, his eyes falling on you, and he smiled as if he understood a joke. "I see. I guess I owe this one to you."

You grinned and walked closer to them. "I'm not sure about that. I think you would have won either way."

"You should join us more often then," Hoseok said.

It was a view you both dreaded and craved to get used to. You didn't make a habit of visiting the training grounds, the King's private ones, or the much larger common ones. The art of battle wasn't one you had delved into. Your father had taught you the basics of protecting yourself but your interest had stopped there. And although watching shirtless men training, wielding swords and bows, and sweating was appealing in theory, you found that the reality wasn't as satisfying.

That's what you reminded yourself and the heat swirling in your stomach.

"How much longer will you be in our company?" you asked Hoseok.

The situation in the North wasn't getting better. Soldiers from the neighboring kingdom had been breaching the borders for months, engaging in small-scale conflicts with your forces stationed there. This was clear as day provocation but you didn't want to go into war.

Hoseok would go along with his team to survey the state of affairs and send a report back.

"The day after tomorrow," he said, sheathing his sword. "It isn't a short trip and it would be for the best to arrive as soon as it is possible." He looked at you and Yoongi, who had turned away. "I will be leaving then. Go easy on him. He's tired," he told you. Yoongi shook his head in disbelief. "I hope we have a chance to catch up before I leave."

"I can always find some time for you," you said.

Hoseok's smile widened before bidding you goodbye and walking away, leaving you and Yoongi alone.

Yoongi gulped down the contents of his leather waterskin, his Adam's apple bobbing, shiny with sweat. "What are you doing here?"

"Am I not allowed?"

"That is not what I said." He put away his sword in its jeweled case and left it on a stone bench. "If you are here that means you were looking for me for something."

You didn't deny it, although it wasn't the complete truth either. There were plenty of matters pending to be discussed and there were about ten things you weren't seeing eye-to-eye and you had to reach an agreement on. Nothing new. But the reason you were there was none of those things.

You had gone on a walk to clear your head after a morning of socializing with some of the most important people in the kingdom and your feet had carried you to the royal gardens before you realized where you were going. Finding Yoongi and Hoseok wasn't your intention. But you weren't about to say that.

Yoongi crossed his arms and looked at you, awaiting an answer. Your eyes strayed to his bare arms and chest and you scolded yourself and pulled them back up in what you hoped was a subtle manner.

"Are you going to stay like this?" you asked.

Yoongi gazed down at himself and what could have been a smirk played at the edges of his lips. "Why? Is it bothering you? Have you not seen a man's body before?"

"Are you a child?" He knew very well the answer to that question. Hell, it wasn't the first time you were seeing him half-naked. That was one of the perks—or cons, depending on your viewpoint—of your job. "For a king, you forget about decency an awful lot."

"When have you cared about decency?"

He picked up his white shirt that had been carelessly thrown on the bench and wiped the sweat off his face and neck with it. You had to look away.

"Where have you been all day? You weren't in your office and you didn't attend tea."

"Were you disappointed?"

"On the contrary," you said sharply. "I was only wondering if you were alive."

He extended his arms to the sides. "As you can see I am very much alive. Sorry to disappoint. I was here."

"All morning?" you asked, not convinced.

The royal gardens weren't a place Yoongi visited often. You were more likely to find Namjoon here observing nature with a book in one hand. Yoongi hadn't displayed any fondness for the place other than the privacy it could offer but his rooms could offer the same privacy and he preferred them.

"I'm the King, can I not take a morning to myself?"

"It's because you're the King that you can't," you shot back. "Did you sign those papers I gave you?"

"I did."

"Did you read them or did you sign them blindly?"

"I read them." Yoongi walked to you until your faces were inches apart. "I read every single one of them. I don't do things halfway. Is that all?"

You raised your eyebrows. "Do you perhaps want more work? I can arrange for something. There is always more work to be done."

Yoongi scoffed and backed away. "You're impossible."

"Thank you, I try," you said. Your mood sobered as you remembered what had been swirling in your head for the past week. "A letter arrived ahead of the envoy from Harfush, they will be here in three days."

Yoongi's demeanor changed, his shoulders tensing. "We will be ready when they arrive. We have prepared for everything."

"Almost everything," you pointed out. "They are set on this. I know it. They have been pushing for months now and it has only been getting worse. This isn’t going to end with a talk with an envoy. They’re hoping to get land from us in exchange for stopping their attacks but that is only prolonging the inevitable.”

His eyes hardened. “If it comes to it then so be it. We are not giving them anything. We will fight and they will regret bringing the war to us.”

“I will hold you to that.”

The envoy arrived and you were proven right. They were after your northern lands, a large stretch of the kingdom. Yoongi told them in the most political way to go fuck themselves, which—to no one’s surprise—the delegation wasn’t pleased with. They left two days later with thinly-veiled threats of war.

Your kingdom hadn't seen war since the days Yoongi's great-grandfather was king. Peace was a fragile thing but Yoongi's father and grandfather had protected it like the most precious jewel in the realm despite the aggressions of their neighbors. But it had never got that bad. Petty thievery here and there, a few arrogant nobles that dreamed of war. The carefully balanced scales had tragically tipped during Yoongi's reign.

The turning had found you prepared. Your soldiers were many and had trained tirelessly with the cloud of war hanging above them.  Your numbers were fewer than the enemy’s but you had something they didn't. Fire. Pyres burning in your souls, stronger than forest fires. That was the gift of the people of Tinigris, the nation of the Tiger.

And so it was only a matter of time.

“What are you still doing here?”

Yoongi was standing over the large map of the continent. On it, figures like chess pieces were carefully arranged, depicting the bigger picture of the stationed troops—your own and the enemy’s.

Yoongi looked up at you, the light casting deep shadows on his face. His hair was falling in his eyes and underneath, dark half-moons were inked in his porcelain skin. "What does it look like?"

"Like you are exhausting yourself going over matters we have already discussed to great lengths when you should be resting."

Yoongi's eyes flashed with something unreadable in the flame of the candles. "The drums of war are at our doorstep, minutes away from spreading like an infection in our land. It is not the time for resting."

"If you want to be dead on your feet tomorrow when we will actually discuss strategy and diplomacy then by all means, it is not the time for resting. If you want to be able to participate in the conversation, I would advise you to go to sleep now."

His hands twitched on the table. "I am not the only one awake, am I?"

The truth was that you had laid in your bed, closed your eyes but sleep refused to come to you. You had tried and failed. Your room was too dark and restricting and you were too restless. You had dressed in a simple black velvet dress with a low neckline, which some of the older nobles would consider scandalous, threw a silky shawl over your shoulders that did nothing to keep you warm, and wandered into the long shadowed hallways.

You couldn't tell him any of that so instead you said, "No, you are not the only one."

The majority of the little soldiers were placed along the borders. Hoseok had sent back a letter confirming what you already knew. There was a war brewing in the North and there was no stopping it. You couldn't run away from the storm, you could only walk into it prepared.

Yoongi's hair wasn't done up in its usual style but he must have carelessly pulled it up himself. Several strands were framing his face and he wasn't wearing his headband. In the quiet madness of the night, he seemed almost vulnerable.

"Why do you speak to me about sleep when you are as awake as I am?" he asked.

"Because at least one of us should sleep," you said. "It will be a long day tomorrow and days will only get longer from here."

His gaze went back to the pieces on the board. "I know that if I go to my chambers, I will find no more peace than you did." The shadows seemed to grow longer on his face. "We have avoided war for years. All of our attempts have been in vain. I'm sending my people into a bloodbath."

"If there was anything more we could do, you know very well we would have done it," you said. "Your people know you don't want this war. We can't stand here while they attack our lands. If we don't fight back, they will raid the villages close to the borders. It will only get worse. Kill, take slaves, do unspeakable things. Blood will be spilled either way. The North is thirsty for it. Better for our people to die defending their homes than be slaughtered with their families at night, unaware."

Yoongi's jaw clenched. In his eyes, you saw the fire and you saw the tiger. "I won't let them. I will fight for them until my last breath. If the North wants blood they will have it. It will overflow."

Yoongi glowed brighter than any flame in the room. Fierce and alluring in the way a sword is, tempting you to cut your finger on the blade to test how sharp it is.

"I won't offer empty words, to you I never have," you said. "It will be hard and we can't know how long it will last. There will be death and there will be wounds that won't heal. But we won't back down. We are the descendants of fighters, of warriors of great deeds. We prospered in peace and we will thrive in war. We will hold the borders, we will hold them back. And I believe we will emerge victorious."

Yoongi reached for something behind him and upon placing them on the table, you realized they were two glasses and a bottle of wine. He poured a generous amount into each and extended one to you.

"Let's drink to that," he said.

"To victories," you said and your glasses clinked.

Everything moved on faster from them, a river getting more and more narrow and running faster and faster. Strategies—political and military—, estimations, gathering the troops, reaching out to allies, making plans. You weren't a great warrior but you had studied battle strategies for years and you viewed battlefields as chess boards. You were great at chess.

Nobles, soldiers, townsfolk, and villagers alike were talking about the war in hushed whispers. Everyone knew it was approaching, a black galloping horse, neighing and squealing. Letters were being exchanged swiftly with the troops on the northern borders, keeping you informed about the moves of the enemy. When war was officially declared, you had to be ready.

Tensions rose in the palace as they did between the two kingdoms. You could barely sleep. When you closed your eyes, you saw images of a red sky, swinging swords, disembodied limbs, and unseeing eyes. You saw destroyed villages and burned houses. They haunted even your dreams. Most nights, you spent in the council room with Yoongi, both of you restless. Sometimes you discussed strategies, sometimes you were quiet in each other's company, other times you fought the way you often did. Upon returning to your rooms, you were able to steal a few hours of sleep.

Time was but an illusion to you. Days blended into each other yet you were intensely aware of each one passing. You drowned in meetings with the council, late nights with the King, and dealing with the noble families—an art you had once upon a time mastered but was slipping through your fingers.

Tensions were rising in the palace. Yoongi was on edge, running from meeting to meeting until he was bound to burn out. Your patience was running thin.

And the King, most of all, was testing it.

"You can't ride at the front in the battle," you said, repeating yourself for what felt like the thousandth time. You were in his office with Namjoon, debating his stupid ideas. "If you are killed, the war is over. Who will be left to lead the soldiers? You have no heir, no brothers or sisters, no one to continue the line."

"Who will lead them then?" Yoongi asked ferociously. "Who will they follow if not their king? Hoseok will be by my side. We will protect each other."

You gripped the glass of wine tighter. You wanted to get up and pace but you wouldn't give him the satisfaction. "This isn't training. This is a real war, protecting each other won't guarantee that either of you are safe. You will be the main target the moment you step into the battlefield. Do you expect the king of Harfush to charge first into battle? To fight at all?"

"I'm nothing like him!" Yoongi said sharply. "I will not hide behind my soldiers while they fight my kingdom's battles! I refuse to cower in the camp like a coward."

"I'm not asking you to," you said, trying to keep your voice from rising. "I'm asking you not to run first into the battle and become an easy target. Do you know how easy it will be for them to shoot you with arrows?"

"She is right, you know," Namjoon said. He was sitting on the other chair in front of Yoongi's large wooden desk, bent over a few papers. What he was writing, you had no idea. Yoongi narrowed his eyes in betrayal. "You want to lead the charge, I understand that, it's the honorable thing to do but they aren't honorable. If you are dead, our people won't know who to follow. There will be chaos and Harfush will take advantage of that."

Yoongi got to his feet, it sounded like an earthquake. "What would you have me do then? I will fight! You can't hold me back from fighting for my kingdom!"

Silent words passed between you and Namjoon. Neither of you liked the idea but it was true that you couldn't stop Yoongi from fighting. You would have to tie him up to keep him in the camp.

You sipped on the wine, an action that seemed to only agitate Yoongi further. "You will fight. But not in the front lines and you won't have only Hoseok with you but your personal guard as well. The ones who are willing to lose their lives to save yours."

"Is that it?" Yoongi asked, something animalistic in his expression. It was coming closer to the surface the past few weeks, clawing and snarling. "Are you making all the decisions for the war? Deciding what is best for MY people?"

Namjoon paused his writing. "We are not making any decisions for you. We only want you to see reason. We are here to advice and guide you, not force your hand."

You held back a huff. "Riding first into battle is suicide. And who will lead YOUR people then? When you are no longer here to do it."

"Why don't you lead them since you seem to believe you can do it so much better?" he snarled. His hand struck the desk with a loud thump, papers, candles and glasses clattering. Namjoon steadied the ink bottle before it could spill and paint the room blue. You held yourself back from flinching.

The world stood still for a moment like it was holding its breath. Yoongi's lips parted. Quickly he pulled back his hand and looked away.

"I'm sorry," he said, gritting his teeth. "I let my temper get the best of me."

Your heartbeat was rising but you kept your voice steady. "I have no desire to lead, only to advise you. I can do nothing more. It isn't only your life on the line. It's the kingdom. Your life is more important than honor or your desire to prove you are a good king."

His jaw clenched. "I will think about it." A dismissal of the conversation. Namjoon went back to his papers and you rested back on the chair, your fingers drumming the tune of war on the arms.

The days grew smaller and the nights longer. Your blood was either freezing or burning. The songs in the court were lifeless, a front no one was believing anymore. Fewer people were good enough pretenders to sing and dance. Wine tasted dull on your tongue. Underneath everything, you were scheming.

War. It had turned from a whisper into a chant. It was the cold breath on your neck in the middle of the night, chilling you to the bone. But you were ready for it. As ready as someone could be for the cruelty humanity had created.

It didn't start with fire or a war cry. It started with a letter. A declaration of war sealed with the royal seal of Harfush.

The night before the King's departure, you and Yoongi met in the council room.

"You are not coming to the front," Yoongi said, thunder flashing in his face. "You are to stay here and rule in my stead. There is no place for you on the battlefield."

You stood your ground, you were used to Yoongi's dangerous looks that would have made anyone else cower. The candles burned around the council room like pyres in the night.

"I am no ruler," you said. "I am the King's advisor and I should be where the king is. Be it the Castle or the battlefield. I will go where you go."

Yoongi clenched his fists. "You are not coming to the front and that's the end. I need you here to take care of the kingdom while I'm gone."

"Namjoon is more than capable of taking care of the kingdom, the council listens to him more than they listen to me." Many in the council believed you were too young and too inexperienced to be the King's advisor. No one would say it in front of Yoongi but amongst themselves they whispered that he had chosen wrong. "You need me there," you continued. "I have studied battles all my life, I am one of the best war strategies you have. It would be foolish not to take advantage of that."

"I have studied battles all my life too and I will have my generals with me. Your place is here in the castle and that is where you will stay."

Anger licked your insides with tongues of fire. "Are you ordering me?" When he stayed silent, you went on. "Do you seriously believe they need me more here than on the front where our fate will be decided? You have always been the better fighter, I was never good at that, but when it comes to strategy, I was better and you know it. Let me be there for you, let me do what I'm meant to do. What is a King's Advisor without a king?"

"Don't." The power was gone from his voice, his head bent. "Stay here. The kingdom needs you."

"The kingdom needs to win and they need you. And I shall be by your side,” you said, not leaving him any chance to contradict you. “I won’t go into the battle, obviously. I will stay at the camp which will be protected and if they reach the camp, that means the war is over. It wouldn’t make a difference if I were there or in the castle. I would be doomed either way.”

“If we lose,” he said through gritted teeth as if it pained him to think about it. “You can escape the castle, go to another country, take Namjoon with you and start anew.”

You were fuming. “Would you run away if you had the chance? Would you escape if you were in my place? Take the coward’s way out?” He looked away. “I am not going anywhere.” Concealed in a pocket of your dress, you pulled out a blade as long as your hand and threw it on the table. “I would rather slit my neck with this blade than run away. I either do this here or at the camp. You choose.”

Yoongi stared at the blade. He was as tense as a tightrope. Watching him was like watching a forest fire. Until something crumbled or it could have been the tremble of the flames surrounding you. He drew back, pulling his eyes away.

“Don’t do it,” he muttered at last. “Stay here.”

“I can’t.”

“Do as you please then.”

Please comment and reblog it motivates me to keep writing

#bts #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #bts fic #bts fanfic #King!Yoongi #bts series #bts scenarios #bts au #bts yoongi #king yoongi #royalty au #namjoon #hoseok

[imsofuckingdonewiththisgoddamn]

When Our Stars Cross Paths; Treech x Mentor!Reader

Pairing: Treech x Mentor!Reader

Word Count: 1.55k

Warnings: None

“You alright, DuPont?”

You was snapped out of your thoughts as Clemensia entered the bathroom you were currently brooding in. Her eyes were fixed on the rim of the sink you were currently stood over, glossy red nails digging into the sleek marble. It was reaping day, and unlike most of your peers, the games didn’t elicit boredom or disinterest. They evoked anger.

As much as your parents wanted to believe they had raised a Capitol sweetheart, you were as passionate about the cruelty of the Hunger Games as your dear friend Sejanus, maybe even more at times. You had cried yourself to sleep the first year the games were broadcasted out of sheer disgust and heartache, not being able to stomach the sight of all the gore and death. From that day forward, you had spent every reaping day locked away in your room, silently mourning children you would never be able to save. This year however, you and a handful of your fellow classmates had been asked personally by the Dean to make an appearance at the school’s broadcast of the reapings. Most had quickly came to the conclusion that the annual winner of the Plinth Prize, a hefty sum of money that Sejanus’s father annually awarded to the highest performing student, was going to be announced. The prize money failed to excite you as well. While you were one of the top scoring students of your class, you had more than enough money to put you and half of the student body through University. You assumed however, Coriolanus, another one of your classmates, would be eyeing that award.

You turned to face Clemensia, who had grown worried by your prolonged silence, Opting to stare aimlessly into the gold rimmed mirror instead of answering her. Your hands released the cool stone of the sink, and instead twisted together and wrung out, as if there was an invisible towel in your hands. Lips pursing together, attempting to force some form of a smile.

“Never better Clemmie!”

Your eyes grazed over the clusters of people as you entered the main hall. Clemensia had split off from you to go join Coriolanus and Festus Creed, who were having what appeared to be a rather one-sided conversation. Across from them you could see Dean Casca Highbottom trying to not-so-subtly intoxicate himself with morphling drops. Despite him being the creator of the Hunger Games, you were shocked he was still allowed to make public appearances, let alone give speeches. Your eyes finally landed on Sejanus, who was standing off in one of the corners of the room, a scowl prominent on his face.

“Sejanus!” You called to him, as you made your way over to where he was standing, being careful to not let your velvety black dress get snagged on anything as you weaved between students and staff members.

“Ms. DuPont, to what do I owe the pleasure?” His voice dripping with over sophisticated sarcasm as you approached. What was likely his first smile of the day creeping onto his tan face.

“How are you holding up?” Your voice lowering down to what was just below a whisper. Unlike you, Sejanus was born in the districts, only moving to the Capitol after his father made a risky bet, siding against the district rebels during the war. As a reward, the Capitol offered him and his family a place in the city, with an income that put even yours to shame. Although he was only eight when he left, part of Sejanus had always resented his father for making him and his Ma leave District two. Here he was ostracized by the majority of his peers, and merely tolerated by the rest. The reapings were just another reminder of another thing he had lost when he left. His sense of belonging.

“I don’t understand…” The boy’s former smile was quickly replaced by a grimace. “How can they all act so nonchalant about all this?? Like this is just any other day?”

You knew deep down he was feeling guilty, for the money he had, the immunity he was granted, all of it. While he was safe in the Capitol, all his former classmates from district two were at risk of being selected as tribute, most of whom were even at their young age dropping out of school to work, just to support their families. You wanted to comfort the boy more than anything, to tell him he wasn’t alone and that you understood the agony he was going through. But the words refused to leave your mouth, already choked up at the sight of your friend in front of you. Instead you chose to gently place a hand on his shoulder, tracing the intricate detailing of his suit as you tried to collect yourself, so you would be able to console the compassionate boy. “It’s going to be fine Sejanus, we’ll figure out wh-”

Your attempts at comforting the boy were cut short by the sound of a throat clearing at the front of the hall. Dean Highbottom had taken his place in front of a large wooden podium, where a woman with graying hair and cold dead eyes stood. A shiver was sent down your spine as you caught a glimpse of them, the one milky white eye contrasting against the electric blue one. The woman had a sinister aura and you could feel yourself backing away out of instinct. On either side of her TVs displayed the beginnings of the reapings, cameras giving brief flashes of each of the twelve districts, where children were standing in fenced off sections. Your heart sank as the grainy footage showed a cluster of twelve year old girls from what you believed to be district eleven. All wide eyes and jerky movements, this was the first year that they were at risk of being reaped.

“I’m assuming you all are waiting for news of the Plinth Prize?” The Dean was clearly more than just a little inebriated by the sound of it, yet his words inspired an excited buzz to fill the hall, with many of your fellow peers speculating on who would be this year’s recipient.

“I’m here to inform you that the prize will work a little differently this year.” Highbottom’s voice echoed off the walls as an anticipatory silence fell over the crowd.

“Twenty four of the top accomplished students will each receive a tribute that is reaped today, to mentor and guide throughout the games. Whichever mentor gets their tribute to…perform the best, will receive the prize. Winning will be taken into consideration, but will not be the deciding factor.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You turned to face Sejanus to see if he was in as much shock as you were. How were a group of capitol kids who had no experience whatsoever with fighting or survival skills supposed to “guide” their tributes?? Considering what the Capitol was forcing them to do, you would be surprised if any of them would even speak to you.

Sejanus returned your stare, a look of imminent dread appearing on his face. Knowing his father, he had probably already bribed the dean to give him a tribute from District two.

Highbottom then began to roll of the names of students who would act as mentors, coinciding with the reapings from each district, as photos of the tributes appeared on the TVs, their names listed below them.

“District two male, Sejanus Plinth…” Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Sejanus sink lower into his seat. You silently reached over to grasp his hand as a photo of a well built eighteen year old boy appeared on the TV to your left. He had wide set shoulders and a scowl smeared across his face as a group of Peacekeepers ushered him onto the stage, nudging him in the back with the butts of their riffles. In large text below his figure you could read out the name Marcus. From the apparent misery plastered across your friend’s face, it was easy to assume that the two had known at each other at one point.

As the Dean went down the list of mentors, you found yourself zoning out, trying to think of ways in which you would be able to help your tribute. You would need to find out whether or not they were of any use with a weapon, and if not, where would they be able to hide and lay low. As your mind raced with all different types of scenarios you would need to prepare your tribute for, you almost missed Dean Highbottom calling out your name.

“District seven male, Y/N DuPont…”

Eyes bolting up to the screens in front of you, you were met with the sight of him. He was well built like Marcus, with dark curls peeking out from under a worn out hat. He looked like he was your age— seventeen or maybe eighteen, yet his eyes were those of a young child, filled with fear and terror. His olive skin seemed to have drained of all its color as he was marched to the platform, Peacekeepers on either side of him.

Your eyes trailed down the screen to where his name was listed…

‘Treech’

A/N

I haven’t seen enough fanfics for this man, so I decided to make one myself! Let me know if you would like a part two!

xoxo

#treech tbosas #treech x reader #tbosas #the hunger games #fluff #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #tbosbas x reader #thg #thg series #imagine #enemies to lovers #district 7 #lucy gray baird #hunger games x reader #sejanus plinth #jessup diggs #reaper ash #clemensia dovecote #casca highbottom #tbosbas spoilers #tbosbas fanfiction #tbosbas imagine #ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosbas fic

[circe69]

I Wanna Hear You Say Something

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem! Reader

summary: ghost really likes your accent, and you really like his.

cw: fluff galore.

A/N: I have ideas for a part two. Lemme know if you want it sooner than anything else.

Edit: Part two is here:)

——————————————————————————-

Tonight, was your first mission ever. You were terrified, seeing as though the only people surrounding you were huge, loud, and dangerous men. They had been in this field forever, and you had only shot maybe a few targets on the head. You weren't met for this type of work, but your new general said you had a knack for sniping.

It was pouring rain, perfect, you thought. You pulled together some sort of outfit, grabbing a pair of heavy cargo pants that just hung off your hips, and a turtleneck t-shirt. They didn't offer much else.

All the sudden, you heard consistent honking outside your dorm. It was the boss, and the rest of your new companions in a large truck. You quickly grabbed your rifle, water, put on your combat boots and ran outside.

The rain kept getting in your eyes, making it hard to see, and you almost ran into the car door. Opening it with force, you jumped in the truck and landed on your hands and knees.

Wonderful. What a nice entry! is all you could think.

The man in the front seat turned around, trying to ignore your faceplant, and said, "Boys, welcome Y/N. She's a sharpshooter. Treat her like one of your own."

You stood up, face red, and dusted off the mud on your pants. You smiled at the general, silently thanking him for the introduction. As you took a seat in between men twice your size, you quietly said,

"Hello."

A few snickers from across the truck caught your attention, and the man sitting to your right said with his booming voice, "Oh great, we've got a clumsy sniper." He looked at you, and met your eyes with such sarcasm, all you wanted to do was roll your eyes, but his mask drew your attention away from your brewing anger.

A skull? Ah, so this must be the infamous Ghost.

You stared for a little bit, then dropped your head to your lap and started fiddling with your hands.

Your anxiety was probably visible from miles away. You never wanted to mess up, but you definitely didn't want to screw up in front of a bunch of men who already are skeptical of you. Men are terrifying.

Army men are even more so.

You started to mess with the gold ring on your middle finger, sliding it on and off, until a large hand abruptly grabbed it from you.

What is his proble-?

"Is it real?" Ghost leaned down and whispered in your ear. His voice. It was too sexy for his own good.

He messed around with it in the palm of his hand, being sure not to drop it. You said back, "No, but don't tell anyone." You winked as he looked up into your eyes.

"Ahh. I see", he whispered once again. You couldn't help but keep eye contact, even when softly grabbed your hand and slid the ring back on your middle finger.

Might as well exchange vows already, you smiled to yourself, and he noticed.

"You wanna know somethin'?" He said gruffly.

You hummed in response, awaiting his fun fact.

"I really like your accent."

Something about that made your heart jump. It jumped even higher when he rested his gloved palm on your knee.

"And you're gonna be fine. Tonight, I mean."

He spoke with such sincerity, it almost seemed natural to him, but he would probably cringe if you said that to him.

His fingers didn't move from your leg, in fact, if anything they were almost impossible to move. You smiled at him and put your hand over his, when suddenly the truck rolled to a stop, and you had arrived at your destination.

A few of the men had jumped out before you, including Ghost. As you neared the car door, Ghost grabbed your hips and pulled you out of the car. You gasped as he carefully let you down, and he yelled to be heard over the rain, "I didn't want you to fall again." You slapped his arm playfully and kept walking in front of him. He belly laughed behind you, and it made your stomach flood with butterflies.

You started jogging to take cover, and get a break from the rain, and followed close behind you. You had come across an old shack, the windows were busted, and doors unhinged, but it was enough to keep you dry.

Ghost took a seat on the floor behind you, resting his head on the wall.

"I'm tired of running in the rain, Y/N", he said sighing.

You giggled and nodded in agreement.

"I wanna hear you say something," he whispered in a low voice. He was a little out of breath, and you could physically see his chest rise and fall.

You took a few steps closer and kneeled down in front of him. You decided to tease him a little bit, so you covered your mouth with your hands and shook your head no.

He reached out and pulled your hands away from your mouth. He started spinning your ring around your finger as he gestured you to come closer.

"Please."

You were now straddling him, sitting directly on his lap and your hands were still enclosed in his, dropped down to his sides.

"What should I say?" you whispered, tauntingly.

He scoffed in annoyance. Right when he was about to say something, you snuck your hands up his torso, chest, and finally lifted his mask just enough for you to see his jawline.

You kissed his jaw lightly on one side, then breathed on his skin, "Oh, I know what to say." You kissed the other side of his jawline, and whispered, "I really really like your accent."

He grabbed your waist and started tickling you while laughing himself. He pulled you underneath him, so your back was on the wet floor, and he was caging you in.

"Good, well I'm glad we're on the same page."

#ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #simon riley #ghost mw2 #ghost fluff #simon riley fluff #simon riley x reader #modern warfare #ghost imagine #circe69scribbles

[jazjelspen]

scarlet and silver lining (part 2)

alastor w/ daughter reader

(notes: apologies for any inconsistencies!! not proofread!! apologies for slight ooc vox since im unsure of how he first acted when he recently died and how he got into power qwq. apologies for anyone ooc in general cuz my brain is stew. slight graphic depictions of violence. this is definetly not by best work but I'll make sure to try harder next time!)

(tags: @falsemain @aconfusedwonderland @stasiaclash )

Today was a certainly an... eventful morning?

Certainly unusual though, considering on what you have stumbled upon on this certain morning.

You had barley been here on your first day and this is what you were to see? All you wanted was food-- even cereal would suffice.

But god-- really Angel??..

Having walked down the steps from your room, gotten ready for the day you walked down with a grace you've held even during your days living and breathing. With careful and cautious steps you managed to not come across him and have your morning ruined too early.

You had accidentally stumbled upon everyone at the main seating room, you being here due to not remembering where the kitchen or dining area was very well.

Unfortunately, Angel was proudly presenting one of his porn films to the group. Few disgusted.. embarrassed.. or even weirdly-- enjoying it.. geez Nifty's certainly weirder than you expected her to be.

You scrunched your nose up slightly as you started to feel a bit grossed out yourself, simply because others seemed uncomfortable and you weren't exactly fond of seeing these kinda of thing often.. but it was hell so you couldn't exactly complain.

You walked up to the group while trying to mute the moans and squeals from Angel Dust on the television in your head, propping your arms up on the large gold headboard of the sofa Angel was laying on and when you finally spoke you managed to even catch Angel and the others jumping slightly from the unexpected surprise as they spoke amongst themselves.

"Geez Angie.. Really gotta be showin' everyone what you do?"

"--And you!"

Now you were surprised, your eyes darting towards the winged cat that, turns out, was speaking before you got there and was even pointing at you.

There was a pause. Your eyes and his meeting as he was pointing at you.. he narrowed his own set before becoming seemingly speechless.

"Actually I don't even know you yet, but considering how you act on that disgusting show and simply being here you probably got some kind of issue similar to your friend here." His eyed flickered to Angel as he spoke towards you. You being incredibly confused on what the fuck this guy was even saying by mentioning you but Angel decided to spit out his words before you.

"Oh yea? And what's my issue pussy cat?"

The cat, name being Husk from what you could remember the day before, scoffed at your friend. "Don't get me started. I see right through you and all of this bullshit and how fake you are."

Angel in response, seemed to laugh nervously.. almost in a way to cover something up. "Me? Fake? Wow.. I had no idea.." The spider's voice holding certain sarcasm continued, you just simply waiting to be able to ask your own question next. "Guess that's why I'm an actor, dumbass.. AND--" and just like that he was interrupted by a ring of his cellphone, having to quickly hold his finger up and mutter to Husk a 'hold that thought' before moving away to answer his oncoming call.

Meanwhile.. you finally managed to ask your question to Husk. "When you mean me having an issue similar to my friend's.. do you mean I seem fake? Wait-- why was I even mentioned anyway?.. I just got here!.."

"Depends. I haven't talked to you enough, but if you and him get along then I'm sure you must have some kind of fake act you hide behind as well.. you definitely can't be as cheery in person as you are on that show.

Oh and I was just revealing everyone's darn issues.. being a hell of a bartender works out for these kinds of things.." standing there almost mumbling his last few words just made you bite your cheek a bit as your face flushed in slight embarrassment. He's not exactly.. not totally wrong..

In the end Angel confessed that he needed to do an emergency shoot for his boss, whom you hated with all your guts as well with how badly that piece of shit treated Angel. You never did get abuse as bad as Angel's but still.. it all definitely gets to you on how both your bosses treated you and those around.

You frowned slightly while looking down at the sofa he previously sat on, dreading when you'll have to get back on TV as well.. although you were a bit unsure of how you'll get Vox's message if you didn't bring your cellphone.

Ah well.. not for you to worry about anyway-- if he really wanted to contact you then you're more than certain he'll find a way to reach you whether you liked it or not.

You snapped out of your thoughts once you heard Angel huff and puff out the door while exchanging a few hurried words to Charlie before slamming it in front of her face.. slight disrespect much? You felt a bit bad for the princess, seemed like quite the pushover.

You truly hoped she wouldn't rule the entirety of hell in this exact way, for if she did she'd get eaten alive for sure.

But while she was groaning and becoming frustrated as her girlfriend was helping her out you were still very much hungry. "Sooo.." you mumbled "Where's the food area? I didn't exactly wake up too early to eat with all of you.. if you did all eat together." You smiled nervously at what's left of the group, body facing Husk who was the closest.

He even responded to you! How kind-- although he was still quite grumpy.

He pointed a finger from his left hand holding the bottle behind himself at the nearest entry way behind and beside the staircase you walked down from. "Over there, turn left, head straight, see two large fancy doors? Open it. walk through it, ignore the empty tables unless you want to eat alone which would be fucking sad and head towards the door with the circular window at the top. That's the kitchen and eat whatever you want, don't complain if anything's spoiled since you chose to be here of all places."

You couldn't help but want to roll your eyes slightly, but with a minor huff of your own you walked passed him and tried your best to remember his shitty directions. "Thanks.. Husk.."

Once you started walking his directions were shitty indeed, simple but being a bit more descriptive definitely would've helped.

Walking through the hall you'd eventually go through your steps echoed against the walls, bouncing back and forth like the ripple of a rain drop on a puddle. Thankfully it was very clean, Nifty certainly seemed to have done her job right with how spotless this part of the hotel was! As weird as she is.. she does her job well.

Finally reaching said 'fancy' doors you opened it to see an entire dining room. Clean as well with newly furnished tables and chairs with unique tablecloths with intricate designs only reminiscent of the royal family. Even each of the tables had a vase and flowers set up and two small pepper and salt shakers, although you ere certain those flowers were fake considering the lack of realism to them.

Nonetheless, fairly charming.

You walked past them all to head towards a large door with the circular window that was described by Husk, peaking through it from a distance it was certainly to the kitchen.

But..

Gosh.. what was that smell?..

It was a humble, nostalgic, delicious smell.

God-- what the fuck was it??..

As if the smell was leading your nose faster towards the door, pushing your body against it since it was those doors that simply would swing itself open or closed with a push.

"Ooo.. is that--" you walked in with a big smile, your nostrils filling itself with that childhood scent.

"It certainly is, ma puce."

You should've known.

The voice that disturbed your entire morning and mood turned around from the stove to reveal itself as none other than-- Alastor.

"Why.. it's certainly an absolute gas to see you up and awake! I even made you your favorite--" the radio demon exclaimed whilst picking up the pan he was using to plop whatever food he made onto the plate, with a swift motion he set down the pan to grab the plate and reveal your hot and fresh breakfast to you.

"--Jambalaya!" he cheered, a subtle audio track of an audience cheering could be heard from his staff that seemed to work as both a microphone and a speaker.

"Uh huh.." you frowned deeply while crossing your arms and raising your shoulder while taking a step back from him. "Actually I ate before I came he--" and even as you tried to escape him by turning back he managed to teleport right in front of you!

"Tsk tsk.. my dear you know you can't lie to me. Take a seat, enjoy your meal! You can't be telling me you aren't dying to try your favorite dish?" He put his hand on your back and the other holding the food as he pushed you through the door, then suddenly pulled you by your wrist, and sat you down on the nearest empty table. "Besides.."

"It's your Nana's recipe..."

Oh.

Your Nana.

Your eyes softened at the mention of her but immediately glared at him with a sharp gaze which seemed to not even affect him in the slightest.

'This fucker..' he knew how to get to you, he knew your weakness.

"Don't you dare fucking mention her. You have no right to have her name roll down your disgusting tongue and through your rotten teeth."

"Oh, is that any way to treat your father little fawn? My.. you're not even little anymore! My mistake.."

His large smirk widened as he set down the plate and a pair of silverware in front of you.. it only made you want to strangle that thin neck of his.

You hated him.

He was the reason why you were down here.. although indirectly. You were blind, you were so caught up in his act even after he died--

it costed you your life.

"I'll only eat it because of Nana, other than that I would really appreciate if you could fuck off Alastor." Even as you told him to screw off he stayed ever so present! Even setting down a cup of hot coffee(or tea, whichever you prefer) in front of you that also smelled utterly delicious. "Besides you only started properly raising me instead of playing babysitter when you realized no one else would, I'm more surprised you didn't throw me back into the orphanage."

"Oh darling I'm certainly a monster but I'm not a downright devil!" Alastor you know damn well.. "Your grandmother loved you too much.. I couldn't just let you go so easily!"

"Yea yea whate-" you picked up your mug to take a sip of whatever was in it which to your surprise.. it was an old favorite drink of yours. One that you would drink every morning with Alastor during your teenage years..

"Hm.. not bad.." You mumbled as you took another sip of it, yet again another sense of home washing you over once more.

"I still yet remember your favorite morning beverage mon chere. What kind of father would I be if I wouldn't?"

"Uh yea-- when I was a teenager. A few years behind dontcha' think?" You scoffed at him while trying to seem as if his efforts were meaningless but the simple action of continuously sipping the liquid totally didn't just.. contradict that.

"Which is why I'd like to catch up a bit more hm? You begged me to leave you alone and I let you be your own independent self when I first found out you were associated with that.. thing." He pulled out the chair across from you to take a seat himself. Right after he set his staff resting against the side of the table and relaxed his elbows on the surface, his chin laid on the back of his hands while looking right at you.. inspecting you.

"If my memory serves correct I'd say around.. seventy-one years? Hm? Since I've seen you? I'm sure you've made some absolutely splendid decisions all those years."

You loudly sighed as you set the halfway empty mug down and replacing the item with the silverware beside your plate.

" Look my decisions aren't for you to judge. You're no saint and I'm not obliged to listen to whatever terrible advice you have. I'm ten years older than when you have last seen me alive and not even including the ninety-four years I've been down here in total." Intertwining your fingers with the silverware you picked up some food from your plate and bring it up towards your plate. The smell seemingly holy to you and once you plopped it in your mouth..

You could've sworn heaven took a delicious shit in your mouth. This was so fucking good...

The spices, the vegetables, the rice.. it was all just cooked to perfection.

You could definitely feel goosebumps crawl around your body and your mouth exploding in flavor.

Oh how you loved the taste of New Orleans.

"Just the way you like it dear?"

You snapped out of your thoughts as your eyes popped open towards the smirking overlord, seemingly proud of your reaction and it made you release a loud scoff from your throat.

"Just-- screw off. I don't want to associate myself with a murderer and a sadist." You set your silverware on your plate as you held your food on one hand and your mug in the other as you stood up from your seat.

"I sure do hope you know that your employer, that imbecile with one of those wretched picture boxes for a head, isn't any better darling." Alastor stayed in place but his eyes were the only thing that followed you while you took a few steps away from him with your back facing him.

Although his comment made you freeze on the spot you didn't dare turn around and face him for he wasn't even worth the action.

"Sure, he's not any better than you. But at least he didn't lie to me all my life and made me believe he was the most amazing person in the world, he didn't make me believe that he was a saint.. that he was actually a good person.."

You paused.

"So, yeah.. he may not be any better but he at the very least he isn't anything like you."

Just like that you resumed walking out the dining room, hands occupied and heart full.

You only amused your father albeit feeling a slight uncomfortable twinge in his chest that made him only want to reconnect with you more.

You just reminded him too much of your grandmother, noticing a few small actions and habits you did that you acquired through growing up with her.

You were all he had left of her, and you were all he had left of that little girl he had to leave behind.

Through selfish means it happened but..

He wished to try, just once more.

___________________________________________

You let out a shaky sigh of fear.

It was your 12th year in Hell and you have been scraping by simply scavenging for scraps, fighting foes with any weapons you could find or trade for and trying to stay alive. You were basically living in squalor but in the nicest parts of town, and was surprisingly somewhat respected due to being affiliated with a few loan sharks that you helped in return for money of resources.. even working 'normal' jobs to at least rent out a small home.

It was now the day of the 'Extermination' Where exorcist angels from above would kill any demons they could find in order to keep the population at bay. You've managed to survive each year due to your connections but all your 'protectors' have been murdered by said exorcists or have fallen from their once high power.

Cruel for heaven but-- then again you couldn't blame them. Not with how power and money hungry these sinners could be.. maybe it was best for them to keep sinners on the low.

But god did you wish you could be pardoned from this the way the hellborn were.

You didn't mean to die the way you did.

You tried to do it for a good cause.

You truly trusted in your beliefs.

You really didn't think you'd get that angry.

You didn't mean to kill that man.

You regret everything.

Especially on the day you heard Alastor's broadcasts all over hell.. you were shocked that he was even in hell but he was even torturing and toppling overlords for his own amusement??

It feels as if the version of Alastor that you grew up with, your dad..

It felt like he died all over again.

Even yet you're still mourning over it.. not for Alastor-- but for your father.

You really should've trusted those detectives and cops huh? Should've trusted the newspapers, even the 'news' on the new picture boxes they invented spoke about his case like daily gossip.

You should've trusted them all.

Evidence was right there but since you grew up with him and saw no signs on your part you could've sworn you felt it in your gut that he was innocent! That maybe that deer hunter that shot him was framing him!

That had to be the case--

Preaching about good behavior, following laws yet rebelling when they are discriminatory or unfair, that life was beautiful and precious...

Pfft. Precious my ass.

He lead you to your death and he didn't even take any part in it.

But to you, your blood was on his hands.

Which is why you knew you weren't going to regret this next part but..--

inevitably.. you did.

You were currently on the floor of an overlord's abode.

You have been seeking refuge from the exterminations happening just outside and this place was the nearest one before an exorcist angel could cut you in half.

How you managed to get in? You were quite unsure at the moment.. it went so quick, did it in a panic, and you're losing blood from a slash on the leg?? Yea getting in here was all your body was begging you to do.

But you let out a shriek when you were once again having a weapon pointed at you.

Well-- two.

Two bodyguard-looking guys confronted you as you looked up at them in fear, a third more sophisticated figure approaching.

Vox, the television demon, his head a bit funny to you considering how small his screen was yet he terrified you as well due to his status.

"How did-- oh I'm going to fucking kill Betty for leaving everything except the back door closed." He eyed you, a look of disgust evident on said small screen. "Oh just kill he--"

"WAIT!!--"

They positioned their weapons to your forehead this time, Vox about to turn around until you mentioned he- who-must--not-be-named.

"I...I knew Alastor!!--"

A shriek of a television signal could be heard, a new kind of static radiating from the overlord.

He faced you-- in a scary yet almost funny kind of way..

"What did you just say?"

"I.." you gulped.. you can't tell him he's your dad! you're smarter than that even in dire situations like these.. it's only more trouble for you.

"I knew him.. I was his.. assistant! yes and I wrote his scripts and he uh--" you felt yourself cower slightly seeing Vox come closer and put a hand up which caused his bodyguards to put their weapons down. He didn't need them, but they caused that fear he needed.

"He got me.. killed.." you trailed off and flinching when he bent down to you.

Vox smirked "Killed huh? You were one of his pathetic victims?"

You nodded vigorously, hoping this will get you to live another day. "He.. He used me as a shield when some coppers tried to shoot him.. got me instead.."

"Does that make you hate him?"

"Yes sir.."

"Hate him so much you could strange him, open his stomach, twist his intestines and feed them to them old rats in the hotels and skid ro--"

"Yes! yes sir.."

Okay maybe this overlord went a bit too far with his hate but.. whatever to not get fucking impaled by an angel.

Vox's smirk widened as he then dragged you up by your arm in a way that was far from gentle. "You sure have a pretty face as well, sight for sore eyes." He inspected you as you only stood there in fear on one leg with your other still bleeding out "Water, some rest and your voice just may be as smooth as honey." He harshly grabbed your chin to look over your appearance even more, your hair, any facial marks you may have. "You say you wrote scripts too? If you're any good you may be able to make some interesting headlines if so."

"Hm.." he hummed in thought " I like you. Prove to be useful to me and I'll let you live.. and just maybe.. I'll protect you from the exterminations and let you live comfortably working for me. As comfortable as it can get.. "

Protection from an overlord.. job from an overlord--

Not the best choices but it's way better than what you're doing right now..

"What do you say, is it a deal sweetheart?"

You weren't that stupid to make a deal with an overlord.

But as mentioned before,

Your undying spite with Alastor might've been your biggest push to shake Vox's hand and give your soul away carelessly.

"Deal."

(It's 1AM I need sleep BUT I JUST WANNA POST THISSISISIS GRAHHHH im so tired but there's one particular scene I want to get to.. may take awhile but AHHHHHHHH I can't wait!!)

#alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel angst #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor platonic #radio demon #alastor altruist #the radio demon #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox #vox hazbin #the vees #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel au #hazbin hotel 2024 #hazbin charlie #charlie hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #charlie #angel dust

[stevenose]

☾₊ ⊹ reaching for the moon (18+)

pairing: steve x fem!reader with afab anatomy

contains: smut and a dumb amount of world building that was not necessary for this. set in 30s nyc, no hawkins. old money!steve; husband!steve; art historian!steve; not rich whatsoever!reader; they’re married your honor; steve’s parents (they’re the worst <3); slut shaming; allusions to bisexual steve; brief homophobia; soft!steve!!! he’s so damn soft!!!!; period typical everything lol

you might want to know: steve smokes and reader takes a drag; heated arguments which lead to some implied homophobia; reader wears an evening gown with a corset; car sex (info on said car here, for clarity sake)

author’s note: this is very heavily inspired by titanic 1997 (obviously) because it’s been rotting my brain. it’s very self indulgent but i’m hoping others like it!!

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

It’s always the same. A party, an invitation in the mail, embossed with gold foil. Steve fuming because they could have walked over instead of paying for postage, or called him on the telephone. Each time both of you thinking it’ll be different, each time leaving with Steve’s wounded ego or anger levels at an all time high. You don’t know why you torture yourselves other than the fact that his mother will make a tremendous deal out of it when you don’t show up. She’s not above telling guests gossip of your marriage when you’re not around, just so it can get back to you and hurt you again.

Your issue lies with both of them. Steve’s issue lies with his father. Old, rich, stupid. Too well-known for being a lawyer for companies that should be shuttered and closed for violations and accidents. A union buster. And Steve’s biggest critic.

He never wants to hear about Steve’s studies or projects. His mind appears to me hyper-focused on Steve’s shortfalls - no military experience, no investments, married to a poor girl he met at a bar in Manhattan. Steve is everything his father detests, and vice verse.

To his credit, Steve tries, even when he doesn’t want to. He talks to his mother first while she stares at you like you’re venomous. She’s good at reeling in her disappointment. Steve’s her only child and you figure she doesn’t want to lose that. His father, on the other hand, is closer to Steve’s cousins - successors of big oil, engineers, military men.

You smile at her while Steve tells her about his recent trip to Florence, about the chapels and art. You’re wearing her diamonds around her neck. You know she wants to strike them from you. You’d say you clean up well, wearing one of the tens of dresses Steve’s purchased for you, custom made and tailored. Satin and lace and silk, only the finest. His mother thinks she can still smell alcohol and cigarette smoke on you. She detests your miserable background, how unladylike and uneducated you are, that you’ve worked where women shouldn’t and have done things she’d consider unforgivable sin.

“They’d mix pigments with egg -“

“Egg?”

“Right, yes, they called it tempura. And the pigments - Jesus, should’ve been there to see Giotto’s blue, so rich and -“

“Are you talking about those paintings again?”

Steve tenses and turns to face his father. Your face falls slightly.

“I am.”

“How much was that trip, anyway?” his father presses. He gives you a wink as if you’re in on the joke. “Certainly more than your engagement ring?”

You clench your fist within its satin glove. The gold, Art Deco band digs into your ring finger. Steve’s jaw tenses.

“Not a penny more,” he says cooly. He adjusts his suit coat. His adams apple bobs under the stark white collar of his shirt. “Not that it’d matter, right?”

And Steve’s now doing your favorite thing, where he’ll pretend he actually agrees with his parent’s ridiculous world views until they pick up on the sarcasm. Your eyes meet and the corner of your mouth lifts slightly, but you’re back to being stone faced a moment later.

“Of course not!” his father bellows, hitting Steve on the shoulder like he’s a long time friend and not his son. He looks at you now. For reasons unexplained, his father likes you. Probably for some perverted reason, you figure. “And how’d you fare without him at home?”

“Probably enjoyed company downtown,” his mother says.

“I did.” You look at Steve again, speaking to him with a language only you two understand. It’s okay. “Don’t worry. I hardly had ten glasses of beer.”

His father laughs loudly again, making guests crane their necks to look. His mother narrows her eyes at you but smiles curtly.

“How wonderful.”

“And you’re all right with him going off overseas?” his father presses. “To go look at crumbling paintings and enjoy boat rides in that dirty canal?”

“Not any dirtier than the city, I’m sure,” you say, now taking Steve’s arm in yours. His jaw is set. “Besides, I like hearing about what he’s seen.”

“Pity he couldn’t take you with him,” his father continues. “Surely there’s a reason for that?”

You tighten your grip on Steve to remind him to not talk. “I’d be too distracting, don’t you think?”

“Certainly,” his mother says.

“Not as distracting as your friends’ headlines, though,” Steve says suddenly. “I heard about your latest union bust. How many fatalities did the factory have? Ten? How noble of you to save them from equity.”

You bite your cheek and squeeze his arm again. His father’s mouth twists like he’s tasted something sour.

“Steven,” his mother lulls, shaking her head almost imperceptibly. It’s the only thing you both have in common, trying to keep him cool and calm. It never works.

“And who’d you hear it from if not me?” His father’s tone has shifted. It feels suffocating in the small circle you stand in. “Oh, those dirty men you fraternize with.”

His father’s preoccupation with dirty things is ironic.

“Did they accompany you to Italy as well?” He looks at you now, eyes boring into yours. “Did you happen to see the Statue of David? I heard Michelangelo had an interest in the bodies of men.”

You can feel the heat radiating off of Steve, the implication making him see red.

“Ah, of course, yet another thing you’d rather refuse to understand than empathize with.”

“We should -“

“I’d love to talk to you about sexuality, actually, father. How many half-brothers do I have again?”

His mother looks like she might faint, but his father smirks. It’s as if he lives for arguments with his son. Loves seeing how far he can push him, for no other reason but to be a bastard. It might be the only time he’s ever fond of Steve.

“We’ll get going,” you say weakly, tugging Steve along, and he’s happy as long as he has the last word. “Always a pleasure.”

“You’d know much about pleasure and vices, wouldn’t you?”

It’s the first time John Harrington has ever made a verbal slight towards you. You pause, just barely, and continue moving, but Steve whips around, eyes wild. “I’m sorry?”

His voice is rigid and loud. Guests crane their necks again but this time, they keep staring. You and his mother both grit out “Steve,” but he strides towards his father. You fear he might actually strike him, so you lunge forward, putting your arm between them.

“Surely something we have in common, then, Mr. Harrington.” You glance up at Steve, his jaw clenching and unclenching, face red. “Good night.”

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

It’s cool outside. There are people on leisurely walks despite it nearly being so late. Steve’s still fuming beside you, toned arms flexing underneath his suit coat. He’s mumbling under his breath, then quickly whips around, heading back towards the door.

“I’m gonna-“

“Please,” you beg, grabbing onto his forearm. “Let’s leave it.”

“How?” he huffs. “How can I leave it? He was - he was - awful to you!”

“And he’s awful to you, too. What else is new?” You tug him, beckoning him with pleading eyes. “Follow me.”

He rolls his shoulders and tilts his head as he looks at you. He’s still fuming, nostrils flaring slightly, but all it takes is another little please? and he’s sighing, pulling out his cigarettes and a lighter as he follows you.

"The garage?” he asks, the white building coming into view. A billowing cloud of smoke follows. “What on earth do you want in there?”

You rip your gloves off and flex your fingers. “Indulge me.” You bump his hip with yours, trying to get him to smile.

Steve chuckles, easing up slightly, flicking the ash of his cigarette. "I don't know if committing vandalism is going to make me feel better this time."

“We aren’t vandalizing anything,” you promise. You reach for his hand and take a deep inhale of his tobacco. A needed stress reliever.

Steve seems a bit more giddy as you approach his father’s security detail. Steve’s known him since he was a boy. All he has to do is give a salute and a smile and you’re inside of the garage, door locked behind you, alone now with at least a dozen collectible cars and carriages.

"What do you have in mind, then?” he asks, leaning against the door. “Maybe we can use your heels to carve out some paint."

You step forward, taking the cigarette and throwing it on the ground before stomping it out with your shoe. You lean against him, hands pressed against his chest as you straighten his shirt. You’re looking at his neck as you speak. “Your father seems to think I’m somewhat of a whore.”

You don’t mean for him to get mad again, though it’s delicious when he is. “My father doesn’t have a clue -“

You interrupt, “So I reckon we make me one.”

His eyes widen, cheeks blooming red. "Oh?"

"Mmhm," you hum, and press your lips to his. He grabs you around the waist, fingers digging into your flesh, hidden by the satin and lace of your dress. Your lipstick smears as you move to the corner of his lips, then the stubble on his jaw, then up to the shell of his ear. "Pick a car and take me in it.”

“You - hold on,” he forces out, grip tight on you. “You aren’t a - a whore.” He says it like it’s scandalous, the worst word that could be uttered from his lips. It’s been thrown at him before, too. “You know that, right?”

You look up at him through your lashes. You can feel him starting to harden against your thigh. “Would it be such a bad thing if I was your whore?”

He swallows hard. “Do- do you want to be?”

You smile. “Pick a car before someone finds us.”

"Um." Steve forces his eyes open to look around. You begin unbuttoning his shirt while sucking a bruise into the delicate skin by his throat. He swallows hard. "Uh, the - the Renault.”

Your lips leave his neck so you can follow his gaze. You don’t know much about his father’s insane car collection, but you’ve always liked this one. Powder blue, gold accents. It’s like an upgraded horse and buggy, a large, enclosed carriage in the back with a bench for a driver at the front. It’s not very old, maybe twenty years, but it’s valuable and big and shiny and something his father prizes more than anything, including his own son.

“Plenty of leg room,” he explains sheepishly, and you smile, pulling him towards it. “Now, wait - wait - what’s the plan here?”

He’s so dense sometimes, but it’s because he wakes up everyday in disbelief that you’re laying next to him. The idea of undressing you and touching you seems so far fetched that many times he’s had to stop and think about it before engaging.

“The plan,” you say, swinging the door open and shoving him inside playfully, “is for you to have your way with me. And quickly, darling, we don’t have much time.”

Steve half-sits, half-lays down on the large bench, watching you as you duck inside and shut the door. He watches you with wide, adoring eyes as you climb on top of him, taking his hand gently. You pull it to your lips, kissing the pads of his fingers while he watches you intensely. When you look up at him, your stomach flips.

“My way with you,” he says evenly, “is to treat you like the angel you are.”

You smile and lay his hand gently on your chest. “Show me.”

His lips connect with yours softly. Despite the rush you’re both in, he still wants - needs - to take his time with you. He hikes your dress up as he kisses you, big hands caressing your thighs and ass. He sighs happily, pushing you down enough that you catch on the front of his dress pants, his cock pressing against your core. You gasp and giggle. “Excited?”

“As ever,” he promises.

You hold yourself up with a hand while the other struggles with the belt and buttons of his pants. He kisses down your neck, hot, open-mouthed. He latches on to a certain spot and you moan, breathing heavily into his hair.

“Need some help?” he murmurs, noticing your pause.

“Yes,” you breathe, eyes closing as he continues kissing along your exposed collarbone. You should be careful with your dress, taking it off and hanging it up, but Steve will just buy you another one. And another one. And another one. Anything your heart desires. Rich silk from Egypt, lace from Italy, hand embroidered and luscious against your skin. His life’s purpose seems to spoil you, as intended right now.

Steve finally frees himself, but you don’t have any time to stare. He’s quick to change places with you, laying you down on your back, pushing your dress and underskirt up. The material and color on your skin make him blush and growl lowly. The sliver of your corset that’s showing has him growing hard, too. They’re not always so comfortable for you, so you tend to wear them only on special occasions. And he’s keen on devouring you in only it after.

Neither of you are really expecting him to dive head-first between your legs, but you would never complain. His wet, warm tongue laves up your folds a few times before finally plunging in between them. You gasp and grab onto the seat, knuckles growing white. “Steve!” you cry, a hand curling into his hair, tugging on it.

“Worship you,” he mumbles into your skin, before forcing himself to pull back, chin slick. “I worship you.”

Your heart pounds. You’re at a loss. So lucky that you cannot possibly verbalize it.

Steve leans right back in, taking his sweet, non-existent time. “I- I hate to re-remind you, sweetheart,” you moan, fingers curling again, “but a-anyone could h-have! Have seen us com-coming in here.”

He hums, your back arching. He’s reluctant to pull away, but he finally does, coming back up to perch a knee on the seat below you. He’s quick to roll his sleeves up, muscled and toned forearms on view. Then he rubs his cock along your folds, both of you moaning. You tug at his shirt, now not so pristine, pulling him down to face you.

“Isn’t the idea to ruin the car?” he asks, smiling a little smug.

“Yes?”

“Then I’ve got to make a proper mess of you, don’t I?”

You burn. “You already have me melting.”

“Hmm. Let’s see what else I can do.”

When he pushes into you, it’s like the world stops. The only thing that matters is him above you. His hair tickling your forehead, eyes hazy and hooded, lip caught between his teeth. “Honey,” he groans, pulling a leg up over his hips to open you up, give him more access. His fingers dig into the fat of your thigh and he shivers at it. He always makes love like it’s the first time you’ve been together. Even during this quick romp, he’s taking his time, hearts in his eyes. “You’re incredible.”

“I love you,” you whisper, pressing your forehead to his. He slides in a little further. You wince and he kisses you gently, fingers moving towards your clit to take your mind off of it.

“I love you,” he mumbles. “So. God. Damn. Much.”

He’s sheathed fully in you now, both of you panting, sweating. The car’s windows are fogged. You can’t keep your lips off of each other as he sets his pace, languid and long, filling you up so completely it numbs your mind. Each thrust makes you gasp. His whines are low, but slowly become more high-pitched as he thrusts into you.

“Give yourself to me,” you whisper. “All of you.”

He would never deny you that.

Hips picking up, his thrusts get harsher. He’s chasing your high and his. Chasing away the thoughts of his father and his mother, of work, of anything except you. You, his angel, his promise that not all things in the world are so bad. Not when you’re with him. And certainly not when you’re writhing under him, your dress pulled taught over your tits, your lipstick smudged, mascara running.

Over and over and over, the thinks, The Divine is real. The Divine is real.

Your eyes catch as he’s pulled away to look at you. He’s soft, despite his thrusts. “I love you,” he groans. “God, I love you.”

“I love you,” you whisper, reaching for his face, cradling it. “My world.”

“My muse,” he moans, twitching within you, handsome face twisted in pleasure. His fingers work steadily on your clit and you reach up for your breasts, wishing desperately that you were wearing a nightgown instead. One that Steve likes, all pastel pink and blue, a ribbon of purple silk on the waist. It’s much less restricting and much more revealing. We can always continue at home, you think, your stomach tightening.

“You are….” you pant, eyes rolling back, leg tightening around his hips. “You are more th-than enough.”

His trusts slow. “As are you.”

“Sweet boy,” you laugh breathlessly, rolling your hips towards him. “Please keep going.”

“Oh!” he says, genuinely shocked, like he was truly so lost in your words that he forgot what he was doing. “S-sorry.”

“Just wa-want to show you how much I - how much I love you.”

“You show me,” he promises. “E-every. Day. And - and at these stupid p… oh, Christ - these parties.” His hips angle up towards your sweet spot and you’re gone, unable to hold back, brows marrying and face tightening in a lewd show of pleasure.

“Steve!” you moan, so loud you’re sure anyone walking by could hear. His hips move furiously and you have to reach up with your hand to steady yourself, making a handprint on the window. “Oh, my God!”

“Now it’s time to show you,” he groans, and his lips are back on yours. Half to consume you, overwhelmed with love and lust, and half to keep you quiet. You all but scream into his mouth, hand sliding off the window to clutch his shoulders while he works you into oblivion. “Close,” he chokes, a hand once again cradling your cheek. “With me now.”

You pant into each other as you cum, the car filled with sex and sweat and your crass noises. So unladylike, so perverse. You giggle mid-orgasm at the thought of his mother walking in on such a thing. A son raised as a level below royalty fucking his street-rat wife into a stupor, all in a thousand dollar car, would make her heart stop.

“What’s - so - funny?” Steve pants eventually, resting his head on your chest, his cock softening inside of you.

“Nothin’,” you promise, combing his hair with your fingers. “I love you.”

“Don’t leave me out,” he smiles.

You shake your head. “Tell you later. We should -“

“Uh-huh,” Steve says, pushing off of you and tucking himself back into his pants.

“You’re trembling,” you frown, reaching for him.

“I’m alright,” he promises, taking your hand and kissing it. “I’m happy.”

“So am I.”

He helps you fix yourself and slips your feet into your shoes for you, a kiss pressed into your knee. It turns into another, then another, and then his lips are creeping up your thigh.

“Stevie,” you whisper, the pet name making him blush. “Let’s finish at home.”

“Home,” he sighs dreamily. “Sounds wonderful.”

You’re proud of the stain left on the leather as you get up, your dress falling back down to your ankles. His father won’t check this car for weeks, if not months. You hope it’s fully ruined by then. But, for good measure, you let your heel scrape the paint on the way out.

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #ns/fw #stevenose posts

[bitchimasnake-sss]

sfw alphabet ft. roronoa zoro! (because im down bad for him)

enough horniness, now we shall weep and cry cause of how much we love this moss head 🤭🤭

yes ur honor this is the man im in love with :/

💗affection (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?):

affection (in it's traditional sense) comes hard to zoro. he doesn't really know how to go about it to be very honest. to him affection is sarcasm and acts of services ("acts of service" include calling you mid in 5 languages (joke), making fun of your exercise form and the way you sometimes drool in your sleep, offering you sake etc.). but as time passes by and you both start getting more comfortable with each other, he gets on board with it. every time you both are spending time alone, he holds onto you one way or the other. don't expect him to call you sugarcakes or something because he won't but he will let you know before drifting off to sleep that you mean the world to him. i dont think hes a huge pda guy but if he's super drunk then he cannot possibly keep his hands off of you, its quite weird for the crew to see him so openly affectionate (cue sanji gagging).

💗best friend:

what would they be like as a best friend? how would the friendship start? he's lowkey the bestest of best friends. he has the energy of "idk what you're doing but ig do it anyways cause i know how to fight" an opinion on everything but he doesn't have the time or energy to say anything (between his sleeping and training). doesn't mean he's any less nonchalant, no, he's just super opinionated for some reason. so, when you're sitting next to him on the deck on those late nights, asking him absurd questions, best believe he will deliver peak (nonchalant) commentary. especially after the two years when he's back from living with perona!!! HE IS A CERTIFIED FASHION KING. "zoro," you nudge him and he hums in response, "i was thinking of getting nami that silver bracelet for her birthday, should i?" "i mean i wouldn't give that debt collecting witch anything but-" he winces lightly when you punch him in the arm, "-but. i think silver will look look washed out against his complexion. gold seems better" "you think?"

💗cuddles (do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?):

at the start, he thinks cuddles are lowkey dumb (and like he probably has gone years without them), so, he puts up this weird drama like "uh no i dont wanna do it" ofc he's lying. cause you're so soft and you smell so good and his hands are literally shaking trying not to hold you against him. after a while, he will unironically announce to you that he is the little spoon tonight and you need to suck it up. (lowkey gives the best cuddles because he literally envelopes you whole till you have to physically push him away) he wants to cuddle but you're DYING. YOU JUST KNOW YOU ARE. because this man is a heat radiating hot heating device heater. he is like a portable sauna. he needs to give you some space but he wont.

💗domestic (how are they at cooking and cleaning?):

cooking? cleaning? you should be grateful that he's showering everyday ever since you started dating him. he knows some basic cooking and cleaning skills (cause he did survive on his own for a good few years) but he doesn't know them in a socially acceptable manner. he just caught a fish, burnt it and ate it cause ✨proteins✨ okay? it's not like he does it on purpose, it's just that he's too focused on training and getting better and you have a chef so, he doesn't have to bother too much about it. but if you both were living together, then i think he will obviously learn them cause he doesn't want you to be the only responsible one cleaning after his messes. and he actually has kinda started liking cooking cause it's relaxing (he's also good at chopping up veggies and stuff so you both can cook together). the only part of cooking he hates is when sanji starts giving him tips cause like genuinely, sanji mind your own fucking business okay he'd learn pasta himself. tldr; the first time you teach him these things, he makes a mess and almost burns down your house but afterwards, you can rely on him to get the things done semi-nicely.

💗ending:

if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it? i think if zoro had to breakup with someone it will probably be over focusing on his dreams of being the best swordsman or if you cheated on him or broke his trust. i don't think he will pursue a relationship with someone if he didn't see it lasting, so, he won't break-up for petty reasons (nor do i think he will ever cheat). i also think he's a practical man. he won't try to sugarcoat or make you false promises. he sure as fuck won't tell you that you both can "still be friends" or some shit (i mean unless you're in the same crew then it kinda goes without saying). he'll probably ask you to come have a chat with him. sit you down and tell you directly and exactly why he is doing it. and he absolutely won't let you have any residual doubts if you "weren't enough" for him or so. just because he has to make this decision doesn't mean he doesn't love or respect you. so, even tho he won't ask you to be friends, if you ever need someone to rely on, he will be there for you. bottom line, he will still be a friend to you (though prepare to ignore each other for a long time after the breakup cause obviously it hurts and you might punch him)

💗fiance(e):

how do they feel about commitment? seeing as his character is super ride or die, he definitely doesn't have a problem recognizing how much you mean to him. but he is pretty emotionally constipated, so, he will take an eternity to actually accept how much you mean to him in a non-friendly manner. how quick would they want to get married? settling down??? no. he's not settling down. not until he's the best swordsman atleast. marriage is lowkey scary to him cause he didn't grow up with healthily functioning relationships to look upto but once he started dating you, he could see it potentially being a "forever" sort of a thing. he's probably not gonna say that out loud tho, thats a topic reserved only for wayward day-dreams or super drunken nights. so, as for the marriage thing he'd want to take his time. he would probably choose to achieve his own goals (and support you to reach yours) and then, think about settling down.

💗gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?):

physically: zoro is acutely aware of his super-human strength but it still comes as a shocker to him to see how fragile, almost dainty you are in compare to him. simple things like comparing hand sizes or how large his t-shirt looks on you when you wear it to sleep genuinely leave him awestruck (and slightly lovesick). so, he makes it his number one priority to always be gentle to you, as if he's scared that you're on the cusp of breaking. and he treats you as such always. (unless you ask with tear-lidden eyes and trembling lips how badly you want him to demolish you because then, maybe he is ready to comply) emotionally: like almost everything else, gentle words come hard to him at the start. all he has known is tough love. so, understanding that making fun of you when you're having your weekly breakdown was the wrong choice took him a while. he's not like emotionally stunted but he still doesn't trust his choice of words to comfort you. rather, he lets the way he holds you against him and pets your head when you sob against his chest do the talking. but if you go out of your way to teach him what he should probably say when you're sad then he might have some luck with it. until then, enjoy the cuddles.

💗hugs:

do they like hugs? after starting to date you, this man realized he loves hugs. and he loves giving hugs. but he's incredibly selective and thus far the only two (2) candidates have been allowed to pass through his tedious selection process. that being you and chopper (both of you are in a binding contract so you cant tell anyone about it either). well, luffy too if you count how clingy he can get 👍🏼 how often do they do it? he does hug you atleast once a day even if it as subtle as holding you from the back, resting his head on your shoulder. what are their hugs like? his hugs are genuinely bear hugs. okay. like he will engulf you and you will stand back and allow it to happen. he doesn't really hold on too long tho, so usually you gotta pull him back towards yourself and hug him tighter when you want it to last longer. pulling him towards yourself usually ends with him smiling and pressing a chaste kiss on your temple as his hands snake around you yet again.

💗"I love you" (how fast do they say the L-word?):

i think he says it fairly sooner than you anticipate. like however long you think he will take, it takes significantly lesser time. this is because (as i said), he probably spent a long time in denial and then in pining, so, naturally by the time you got together, he was sure of his feelings for you. anyways, one of my first fics on this blog was of how zoro probably said "i love you" to you when he was drunk and forgot about it when he woke up the next day. i still stand by that. i think it was a genuine, drunken confession but when you shyly confronted him about it, he just replied, "yeah, i meant that. i love you." his words were nonchalant but you could notice the dusted pink of his cheeks when he admits it and then his unsure gaze as he looks over your face and then the ground. (truth is, he only acted nonchalant. internally he is ready to jump off the ship incase you didn't say it back. thank god you said it back.)

💗jealousy (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?):

omg this man is simultaneously the most secure and the most jealous whore in this world. does he know you're not gonna cheat on him and ignore practically any man throwing himself on you? yeah, he knows that. but does he also want to cut off all those guys' heads if they even look at you? kinda, yes. i think he gets really shy to admit he's jealous. like he'd blame his irritable temper on the weather or the fact that he got less sleep last night. but you did notice how he clenched his jaw when a random guy in the market had been ogling you. and so, you tease him relentlessly. "zoro," you laugh, poking him in the chest accusingly, "are you sure? i think there might be something else going on" "like what?" he huffs, "i just got less sleep last night." "babe are you like jealous?" "no-" "you totally are" "stop saying that" "jealoussss" as to how does he deal with it? he fucks you. quick 'n easy. (im so sorry if youre a minor and reading this, in that case he pillow fights you to death.)

💗kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?):

what are their kisses like: after a long day, he always unwinds with you. so, his kisses are usually slow. he relishes in the way your lips feels against his, the way your cheeks feel like under his palm and the way you smile at him when you pull away. there's no haste because he has you right there and you both know you're not going anywhere. but on those nights he's pent up, anger and frustration strewn across his veins, he chooses to kiss you till he forgets just what he was angry about. his kiss-bitten lips are hot against yours, his hand roughly kneading your waist as he pours his anger into your desperate kisses. where does he like to kiss you: in public, his favourite spots are definitely your cheek or your temple as they are relatively tame pda tactics but still gets the point across. he gets to show his affection towards you without making a huge show for it. he also loves kissing on your shoulder as he rests his head on your shoulder and holds onto you. he can feel your pulse under his dull, soft kisses and heard your breathy hums and moans.

💗ittle ones (how are they around children?):

well, i hate kids. so, im gonna be biased. okay i don't hate kids but i hate toddlers. fucking devil spawns. i truly believe they will sacrifice us all for the beginning of the dark ages. anyways, zoro's not great with kids in theory. but somehow, when he interacts with kids he does end up somehow being a good (annoyed) dad figure (remember when he fathered three kids? cause i do)

💗mornings (how are mornings spent with them?):

morning with this green-haired ass start with you pushing his heavy arm off of you. you mumble that you're hot, trying to turn away from him and into the cool sheet. but it's no use because he just traps you against him yet again. zoro definitely doesn't give morning person vibes so i believe you are up before he is. you run you fingers softly against his scalp, bringing down your drumming fingers to his bare shoulders. you press an innocent kiss to his forehead and smile when he leans into your faint touches. when he finally wakes up, he looks up at you through sleepy eyes. he greets you with a tired "morning" before closing his eyes and draping himself you again. "zoro" you whisper half-heartedly, "everyone else is up, come on, we should get up too" he mumbles into your skin, "they weren't the ones keeping a watch last night, were they? come on, 10 more mins." "zo-" "please" he looks up at you, flashing you a soft smile, "10 mins." "10 mins only, okay? then we get up" (well, 10? more like 2 mins. luffy started yelling about breakfast and tried to eat before the food was served. and so, sanji (naturally) kicked him to near-death, so, you both had to wake up)

💗night (how are nights spent with them?):

walking out of the shower, you dry yourself off before cladding yourself in your pajamas. your limbs feel tired, body devoid of any and all energy as you climb into your bed to relax. sometimes you read, other times you just stare at the ceilings and think about stuff (we've all been there). zoro usually slips into the room silently, closing the door behind him. he plops down next to you and you curl up against him. sometimes, you both exchange small talk, if something fun happened while the other person wasn't around or gossip you heard from nami and ussop. but most days, you both simply enjoy the silence in each other's company till you're ready to fall asleep. every once in a while, he slips into the shower with you. (keeping this kids friendly) he gently washes your scalp and you rest your bare back against his chest as you ease yourself into the warm water. you return the favor by giving him a back massage. after this youre both so tired that you immediately pass the fuck out.

💗open:

when would they start revealing things about themselves: i feel like he'd know a lot about you before you find out anything important about him. he wears his loyalty and his dreams on his arms, but you don't find out why his dreams are so important or why he is so fidgety around tashigi until you're a good few days into dating. other small things about him are revealed to you thru his actions as he never mentions them, so, be prepared to be a persistent observer. do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly: he always reveals himself in little ways, never revealing too much. not because he doesn't trust you but because he's never had to talk about anything like this out loud. but anytime he does end up telling you something, it ends up being a heart to heart conversation. also, since he does get very drunk very often canonically, i don't think he's the type to slip up and tell things only cause he's not in the right headspace. so i imagine he only tells you things sober and in solitude, further cementing his trust in you.

💗patience (how easily angered are they?):

in moments of actual anger, as a swordsman, zoro is pretty good while handling his emotions. he knows how to differentiate between irrational feelings and actual solutions needed to get to the bottom of something. so, even when he gets mad he wouldn't necessarily act on it unless and until it is truly something that makes him tick. and things that make him tick includes people talking/doing something wrong to you or anyone in the crew, in that case he's going god mode. that being said, he will get easily irritated if someone is just joking around in the crew (especially sanji). he's incredibly patient with you tho, so, don't even worry about it and just accept him dumb antics for what they are.

💗quizzes:

 how much would they remember about you? i see yall sleeping on my man and i hate it. yes, hes kind of an idiot and not the best with memory but if it's anything about you or your relationship?? best believe he knows everything like the back of his hand. but he only claims that kind of power when it comes to you cause he will not really bother to remember other stuff if its not important. do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything? even though he wouldn't outright keep saying he remembers, he will often mention it in passing. like if you bring up someone while recounting a story to him, he will probably remember the last time you mentioned that guy. that being said, his memory is still kinda ass. so, he sometimes mixes things up if they aren't that relevant to the plot. so forgive him okay? hes trying

💗remember:

 what is their favorite moment in your relationship? i def feel like zoro prefers the mundane moments with you over any extravagant things. living on sea is insane, it's one thing after the other so knowing he has you to himself even for a few hours and in those hours, he gets to do nothing but love you truly means a lot to him. he isn't a cook by any means but this one time, when the rest of the crew had gotten off at a new island to restock and had only left you and him to keep guard, you had suggested you wanted to bake a cake. "i don't know how to cook" he mumbled softly, trying to convince you otherwise, "i can only do some cutting, slashing yk" "you dont even have to do anything!! just sit there and look pretty, i can do the baking." he eventually caved in. but now the memory of you making batter while he sat on the counter, talking to you is etched onto his every nerve. there had been a little bit of flour on your eyebrow and he used his thumb to clean it away before pulling you towards him and kissing you hard. you looked up at him, "i love you" "i love you too"

💗security:

how protective are they? i feel like zoro isn't as territorially protective as one would assume. like i said in the best friend section, he is more a laid-back "i know how to kill and get rid of the body, do whatever you want" kind of a vibe. that doesn't mean that he isn't gonna be on the verge of pulling out his swords the second someone even utters a word against you (but usually his dirty looks get the job done before he even pulls out the swords) how would they protect you? slash slash, stab stab and cocky remarks at the opponent (sometimes pure, unfiltered rage) how would they like to be protected? he's the roronoa zoro, he doesn't need physical protection. that being said, he wouldn't admit it out loud but just because he doesn't need you to pull out a gun to save him doesn't mean it doesn't give him pesky, little butterflies in his stomach whenever you defend him with your words. even if its something as small as calling out someone else's jokes that were targeted at him (and were just straight up offensive). or getting into actual verbal altercations (it happened once when you were drunk)

💗try: 

how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks? not a lot, tbh. look hes tired, you're tired, just cuddle and sleep okay? that being said he does put decent amount of efforts to surprise you every once in a while. he doesn't put on an extravagant show, so, mostly his surprises are just kinda lowkey and sweet. so on your anniversary, maybe he'd finally get the stick out of his ass and accept nami's idea of booking you a table somewhere expensive. but the memorable part isn't that, the memorable part is him asking (almost) shyly if you just wanna walk around town after dinner while he holds your hand and you bitch about your crew (in a loving manner).

💗ugly:

what would be some bad habits of theirs? omg obviously the drinking!!! i know he has high tolerance and shit but bro your liver's practically CRYING RN. please introduce yourself to some healthier coping mechanisms other than drinking and going stabby-stab. i also do think he's egoistic (it lessens with time) but its still a pain in the start

💗vanity:

 how concerned are they with their looks? this man does not give two fucks about his looks, like legit couldn't care less. he does know he looks decent tho (i mean casting mackenyu was a choice, i see you oda sensei). but ever since dating you, he has been putting in little efforts. i think partially cause you bully him into having a skincare routine and showering daily and partially cause he just wants to be a pretty boyfriend to his favourite girl.

💗whole: 

would they feel incomplete without you? yes and no. this is conflicting cause on one hand, ofcourse your absence will be equivalent to having daggers through his heart. but also, he seems like the guy who hyper-focuses on themselves after a breakup. i don't think he'd feel "incomplete" without you if you both ever broke up cause however dumb he is, he knows sometimes things don't work out and that's that. besides, even if you have to go, he still have people (the crew) to love and care for. but he would feel that glaring absence and it'll take a way heavier toll than anyone anticipated (cue him blasting heavy metal in his room and face-timing perona drunk and (almost) crying. perona suggested she takes care of you which made him actually cry cause perona dont be fucking mean)

💗xtra (a random headcanon for them):

zoro is so good at doing eye makeup specifically. i mean like because of all the sword-training and all, he has really good hand-eye coordination and very precise movements. so, like if you asked him to do your liner and give him specific-ish directions for how you want him to do it, he will 100% ace it. he doesn't really do well in other departments but he can learn (if you can make him learn thru that attitude of his) also, i theorize that he's ticklish but in the randomest fucking places. one time you lovingly ran your hand through his hair, bringing it playfully down to his nape and he fuckING GIGGLED?? another time you offered him a leg-massage cause he seemed to have pulled a muscle and you were working on his calf, trying to help him out and he yelped cause it tickled???? hello what do we do with this info now?

💗yuck:

what are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner? he wouldn't like judgmental people or people who are very uptight (cause although his jokes could be hit/miss, he doesn't wanna hear a fucking lecture). also dont be disrespectful to him/his friends. and also, i think he would have a thing against people who are too nosy (pre-dating mostly), like if he wanted to tell you something he would other than those basic things, he's chill.

💗zzz:

he's asleep before you can say "good night" because he's a simple man who needs to sleep 10 hours a day (minimum) see he isn't going off ruining lives, he's not fucking things up for someone else, he's just taking a nap. its like the least horrible thing he can do, let him nap. i do think he should get checked for some vitamin deficiency tho caue uh, just in case. that being said, you go to sleep now. i would too. goodnight!

a/n: loved making this so much that i might make one for literally every character ever once i get the time lol

#one piece #opla #op #roronoa zoro #one piece zoro #zoro x reader #zoro fluff #zoro fic #roronoa zoro x reader #one piece x reader #fluff #zoro sfw #the monster trio smut #zoro op #zoro one piece #vix rambles

[sadderdaazee]

“jiji,” in a whisper’s breath, you turn towards your husband.

the moon glimmers against his scar in a way only you would dote. his half lidded eyes look at you. and it makes him smile.

just the sight of you was enough.

enough to tell him that he was still sane.

the feeble mark of your pulse thrumming against his chest was enough to tell you were there. that you were speaking to him.

it was enough.

for a man like him, it was enough. just the quiet rumble beneath your ribs and the slow vibrations of your voice — it was enough.

“yeah?” he replies, pressing his face deeper within your neck.

he loved listening to the erratic thunder beneath your veins.

“if i make it to heaven,” you beckon a breath from his lips, “will you be there?”

he stays quiet for a moment. after all, he hasn’t been a man of good deeds.

“dunno,” he says, pressing his lips to the heartbeat that told him that heaven was still so far away from you both, “i’ll be there wherever you are.”

“cheesy,” you run your fingers against his ear, his hair, threading between them like he was woven out of glass spun of gold, “what if i don’t make it anywhere.”

“you gonna ghost me?” he inhales, and feels your breath hitch under a chuckle. he loves it. loves the small quiet sounds of your voiceless humor, of your chuckles.

you nuzzle deeper into his chest, deeper than he’d ever let anyone.

“so funny,” you roll your eyes. he can hear it. he loves it too. loves your sarcasm. loves your silly remarks about his out dated humor.

you adjust your breathing tubes, pressing your lips to his.

he can almost feel your breath going scarce.

“i love you.” you tell him.

he knows.

he knows that you love him.

and thats what makes it so hard.

he’s never been loved before.

“do you?” he nods.

“more than i love anything.” he says, absently finding his palm to your swelling belly.

“if something happens to me,” you press your forehead to his, and he knows what you’re going to say. “take care of him.” you press your palm to your belly, right over his. right over his searingly hot palm.

“i will.” he pulls his wife closer into his broader chest, till you’re sinking into his bones, like he wants you to become one with him.

God knows he loves you. So, so, so ardently. God knows what he’d become if He took you away from him.

—

that morning, toji doesn’t wake up to the dawning sun pooling into his eyes.

he wakes up to the muffled sound of choked moans and whimpers, struggled breaths adamantly making their way past into the air.

that’s enough to jolt the man wide awake.

he wakes to you sinking within your bones.

“Y/N,” he yells, horror brooking home into his skin.

he doesn’t waste time to ask what had happened — what is happening. in an immediate motion with wide eyes he gets out of the bed, immediately puts the mask of nebulizer over your face and picks you up.

you hold his hand, fear wide in your eyes, breath scarce and only rare.

“i-it’s megumi,” you tell, pressing over your belly.

he stays silent, breaths and wide eyes of his fear only evident on his face as he runs to his car.

he runs like his life depends on it.

—

the doctor holds his baby in her arms. cradling the little thing in her arms as the nurse gives the news to toji.

that your body fought for you the best it could.

that, you didn’t make it.

and, once so strong, toji fushiguro, grew weak on his knees.

the doctors told him they did the best they could to save you, they always do. his tears, laden with grief and salt, fall against his cheek.

when he’s handed the life you gave yours to bring into this cruel, cruel world, he stares. wipes his tears. stares more.

that’s all he can do.

“megumi,” he whispers.

and when the child’s crying into his chest, when your family and friends are wailing and mourning and your mother offers to take care of the infant till he’s back home, he stares.

because when the funeral is over, the funny thought of you saying you’d look so ‘chić wrapped in a white cloth.’ sings into his head like a memory reserved into his mind.

and with a chuckle, a tear, a quiet whimper and a choked sob, he’s kneeling.

“i’m sorry… that i can’t be wherever you are.” he breathes, feels the air condense his sigh as the dark sky melts. he’s walking back home.

the home that doesn’t feel like one anymore.

the home that smells so much like you.

✩ PART 2 of toji angst series.

✩ parts 1, 3, 4 and 5 here!

#anime #toji x y/n #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x self insert #toji x poc reader #toji x poc #angst #lwk sad #idk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen angst #toji angst #toji fushiguro #toji #singlw father toji #fix it kinda #angsty kinda #megumi fushiguro #i miss him so bad im gonna end it #i seriously don’t know #im gonna end it #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen toji

[jake-g-lockley]

hi! i saw joel miller but only if i ask nicely so pretty pretty please joel miller and prompt #19

Falling Into Place (Joel Miller x reader)

Masterlist | Wanna be tagged?

Prompt: ARGUING!!! Then a heated “kiss me.” and suddenly their hands are all over each other. 

A/N: Hey there nonnie! Thank you so much for the ask! I’m so sorry this took so long ahahah, I was a little stuck with Joel ngl. I hope you don’t mind me changing the prompt a little bit cuz I’ve written this prompt too many times hahahah. Anyway, here’s sweet and soft Joel, enough to warm your heart and brain. (Also a little thank you to @lil-stark and @campingwiththecharmings for aiding in my quest for fluffy goodness). 

Warnings: MDNI, smut, very public sex, fingering, unprotected p in v, biting and marking, Joel is a lil thief, alcohol is involved, pre-outbreak. 

Word Count: 3.9 k

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You don’t really know how you became friends with Joel Miller. 

It feels a little out of place whenever you hang out with the tall, dark and handsome man and you can’t help but feel like he’d much rather chat with his buddies over some beer. 

You had asked him to help you out when you moved into the neighbourhood, and he used his carpentry skills to build you a new shelf that you had designed. You babysitting (or teenage sitting) Sarah certainly drew the both of you closer and Joel found it absolutely endearing when Sarah wanted to spend more time with you. You found yourself keening towards his senses of humour and sarcasm, your heart warming at the way he treated his daughter. 

Joel Miller was most definitely your type, his brown curls and matured face made you feel things that you wanted to thoroughly forget. You knew he had a heart of gold and a smile to match, but it only made you fall into a deeper hole, one that you knew was going to take forever to dig yourself out of. So you kept it strictly platonic with Joel, building a friendship like no other with him, stuffing all of your feelings for him in a bag and throwing it into your box of problems you want to put away. 

In your horrible efforts to stuff your feelings for Joel away, you didn’t notice how head over heels in love with you he was. Joel looked at you as if you brought the sun with you wherever you went, his entire demeanour changing whenever you were around. Sarah, the ever attentive daughter sat and watched as her father failed at trying to convey his feelings. 

The first time she pointed it out, Joel got defensive. 

“Come on, you’d have to be blind if you think we all don’t notice!” Sarah sighed as her father furiously shook his head.

“Who’s ‘we all’ ?” Joel grumbled, his eyes shifting to his brother who at that second decided that it would be a great time to go for a drive. 

After a while of denying, Joel caved hard and decided to ask Sarah for help. He was afraid. The last thing he wanted was to lose a woman like you. 

“You’re already doing everything right, Dad. You now just have to find out whether he feels the same.” Sarah said over dinner one day.

For weeks he had been trying to figure out what to do, until one day when you and he went to pick Sarah from school.

“Dad, I need you to sign the consent form for the camping trip.” Sarah said before Joel could even pull out of the parking lot.

“Oh! A camping trip! You’re gonna have so much fun, Sarah.”you piped up before Joel even thought of digressing.

“Do you like camping?” Sarah asked, resting her arms on the seats in front of her, her curly hair brushing your temple.

“Hmm, I’m more of a picnic girl, you know, food in the sunshine with a soft fluffy blanket under you.” You say nonchalantly and Sarah smiled.

A thought crossed her mind and she looked into the rear view mirror, only to see her father staring at her, wide-eyed. Sometimes Sarah wondered whether her dad knew what she was thinking, but this moment just confirmed that the two of them shared the same brain cell. Her smile widened and Joel shook his head slightly, trying not to draw your attention. 

Sarah sat back into the back seat, her arms folded as she contained her excitement. All she had to do now is to convince Joel to let her do the planning. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Joel took a deep breath as he loaded the last of the things into his truck, covering them with an inconspicuous tarp so that you wouldn’t guess what he was up to. He smoothed down the clothes Sarah had picked out for him and started for your front door. His nerves were already on edge. He knew that you would come with him, but it was more the matter of whether you liked what he and Sarah had planned for you. 

Sarah gave him some last minute tips before leaving for camp the day before. She threatened him that he wouldn’t see the light if he didn’t open his mouth and confessed to you over the picnic. 

“You are coming back with a girlfriend, old man. If not, you are not coming back at all.” she had huffed, folding the blanket that she picked out for him. 

His hand shook slightly as he raised it to ring the doorbell, waiting with baited breath until he heard your footsteps. You swung the door open and beamed at him, the morning fog and the dim lighting kickstarting Joel’s worn out heart as he stares at you. Your hair was in a bird’s nest style and you brought your hands to the top of your head to attempt to tame it. Joel started to dissociate, wondering whether he could experience this hairstyle first hand every morning. 

“Joel?” Your voice brought him back from his little daydream and he smiled softly at you.

“Meet me at my place in about 20 minutes, I’m taking you somewhere. Wear something comfortable.” He blurted out before his nervousness took over and spoiled everything. 

You stared at the man before you. He looked different, cuter. His dressing style was slightly different, and you wondered what the occasion was. He was wearing a white t-shirt with his jeans but he had a navy blue button down shirt that he used as a jacket and you couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked. 

You nodded and closed the door, running for your room as soon as you heard him descending the patio. You were there in 15 minutes, the fastest you’d ever gotten ready. Joel opened the door as soon as you knocked, only to be absolutely blown away from the dress you were wearing. You had chosen your favourite simple white sundress with puffed sleeves and accessorised with a pretty navy blue bow in your hair. Your burgundy lipstick topped everything off and Joel was in absolute awe, making you look up at him curiously.  

It wasn’t the inconspicuous tarp in the back of his truck that made you think Joel Miller was going to kidnap you and kill you, it was when he handed you a blindfold and a pair of headphones. 

“Please, I know this is weird but you have to trust me.” He pleaded, his brown eyes big.

Those eyes were going to get you killed one day. You gave in and put it on. Joel drove for a few minutes and then he stopped, tapping your hand reassuringly. You decided to trust him, he had nothing but purity in his eyes when he looked at you. Besides what was the worst that could happen? 

Joel’s hand wrapped around your wrist after a while, startling you. He gently removed the headphones and took your hand in his. 

“Alright, it’s ready, I’m going to walk you out of the truck, ‘kay?” He whispered and you nodded. 

You followed him as he pulled you out, your heels settling on what seemed like grass. He walked you a distance away from the car and when he stopped, he gently tugged at the blindfold, letting it fall and revealing his surprise. As your eyes adjust to the light, you’re absolutely stunned. Before you lay a large blanket with pillows and a large picnic basket. Food, fruits and alcohol poked out of the basket and the scenery was absolutely delightful. 

You turned to Joel in shock and he was chewing his bottom lip in anticipation for your reaction. He looked so beautiful like this, the green grass giving him a perfect backdrop. 

“Shit Joel! This is beautiful!” You squealed, stumbling towards him for a hug. 

Joel was smiling so hard that he didn’t realise that you were hugging him. He found himself melting into your soft grasp, soaking up the way you held him. He took hold of your hand and guided you onto the blanket, watching as you sat down and tucked the hem of your dress under your legs. He followed suit and began to dish out food and wine for you. The both of you talked and drank, totally oblivious to the rest of the world as the sun rose higher and higher into the sky. 

The both of you were considerably tipsy as the wine from the wine bottles evaporated quickly. Joel was fully laying down, a glass of wine balancing on his wide chest. You glanced at the hot Texan sun and reached into your bag, pulling out your bottle of sunscreen to reapply. You were lathering the product all over your arms when you noticed Joel was looking at you, his nose scrunched up and lips pursed as if he were going to say something. 

“What? Want some?” you ask, holding out the bottle. 

“Pft sunscreen? Please, I'm a man.” Joel scoffed, downing the rest of his wine and setting the glass side. 

You raised your eyebrow at him as if he said something absolutely ridiculous. 

“Well the sun is non discriminatory and it doesn’t care what gender you are, it still will give you skin cancer!” you say, wiggling the bottle over his face. 

Joel rolled his eyes and you decided to take matters into your own hands. You put a blob of sunscreen on your finger and try to swipe it on his face, only to have Joel dodge you. He grabbed your hands with a laugh and tried to take the bottle away from you but when he did, he stumbled and pushed you down, landing on top of you and pinning you down. He snatches the bottle of sunscreen with a grin but your determination got the best of you. 

In your sundress, you flip Joel over and he lands on his back with a thud and a light groan. His eyes widened as you sat properly on his chest, pinning his arms down with your legs. Joel felt something steer in him as he gulped and suddenly he didn’t care about the sunscreen, not even the smug look on your face as you began to put the sunscreen on his face. He watched as you slowly let go of his arms, raising his arms to rub sunscreen on them and once he felt like your guard was let down, he decided to strike. 

You then found yourself staring up at Joel, your hair splayed everywhere and your breathing quickening. Joel was on his knees, bracketing your body, his hands on either side of your head. 

“You're gonna pay for that, sweetheart.” Joel huffed. 

“A little sunscreen hurting the big bad man? Boo hoo dummy!” You say, despite how fast your heart was racing at the term of endearment leaving his lips. 

“You're the one who's scared of the sun!!” 

“You clearly don’t read, Joel Miller!”

“Right as if you can read anything, pretty girl.”

“I CAN DUMBASS”

“YEA RIGHT, SO READ THIS!”

Before you could register what Joel meant, he dives down and his lips are suddenly connected with yours, effectively silencing you. He kisses you hard, his hand cupping your cheek as you arched your back so that your chest pressed against his, kissing him back with equal fervour. He pulled back after a few seconds, and his lips were as red as his pretty cheeks, tainted with your burgundy lipstick. 

You huffed out a few puffs of breath before saying the only thing that came to your drunk-addled mind. 

“I thought manly men hated girly girl things. Why the hell are you wearing my lipstick then?” 

Joel was taken aback by your reaction, clearly not expecting how nonchalant you were. You reached up and touched his lips, swiping the plump pout and showing him the transfer with a grin. Joel smiled but suddenly a wave of insecurity rushed over him, evident on his face.

“What’s wrong, Joel.” you say quickly, wondering if your little joke rubbed him wrong. 

 “Are we doing this because we're drunk?” he whispered, peering down at you. 

The panic instantly faded from your body, replaced with quaint relief. 

“Joel, you big dummy, I’ve been wanting to kiss you since forever. I promise that I’d do it again and again as sober as a judge.” Your words brought a relieved grin on Joel’s face.

You slid your hands to his chest and gently pushed him off you, patting the space beside you.

“Lay down, let me show you.” you whisper.

He obeys, guiding you as you straddle his body once again. You frame his face with your hands, gently carding your fingers through his curls, twisting them slightly, enjoying how his eyes flutter slightly. 

“Here’s that brilliant brain of yours, bringing my ideas to life.” You whispered, planting a gentle kiss on his forehead. 

“These beautiful lines hold so many memories and I hope to make more with you.” you kiss the crows feet at the edges of his eyes. 

“I’ve always wanted to pinch your cheeks, so full of life.” you kissed his bouncy cheeks before pinching them gently. 

“Your adorable ears, the ones that listen to me ramble without fail.” you kiss both of his ears and Joel melts further into the blanket below him. 

“Your chocolate eyes, better than any delectable treat I can dream of.” you left feathery kisses on his eyelids.

“Your amazing lips, carrying your beautiful smile and your even more beautiful words.” you kiss his chin and his lips. 

Then you slowly traced his nose with the palm of your hand, your fingers tickled by his eyelashes on either side. You bend down and gently kiss the tip of his nose, before nipping it slightly with your teeth, giggling. You pulled away to see the radiant smile on Joel’s face, which had lighted up like a firework. 

“Wait, what about my nose?” he whispered, and you couldn’t help but blush and grin shyly.

“You’ll find out later.” you whispered back and Joel felt a rush like no other as his cheeks heated up too. 

Joel brings his head up and kisses you, pushing you and turning slightly, so that the both of you are on your sides. His hands gripped at your hips hard before coiling around your waist and pulling you ever so close, crushing every bone that existed in your body. You whine into the kiss, your arm looped itself around his neck and your free hand combs up his soft curls for purchase. 

Joel surprises you by biting your bottom lip and tugging it slightly, pulling a gut wrenching moan from you. Joel went back to kissing you, licking into your mouth as he desperately felt the urge to hear that sound again. He pushes you down fully and breaks the kiss, kissing your chin before planting kisses as soft as cotton onto your neck. 

You arched your back again and Joel took his chance to attack. He started his assault on your neck, kissing, biting and sucking in a pattern that had you writhing against him, grinding his hips down to meet yours. His hands couldn’t seem to let go of you, as if he was absolutely hopeless without the feeling of you. Your hands bunched up the back of his navy shirt, crumpling the material as you fisted it hard. The sounds that escaped your lips made Joel growl against your neck, at the same time where the bulge at his jeans caught your heated core, which made you gasp. Joel pulls away at the sound of your gasp and you look up at him with wide eyes. You had the words at the tip of your tongue but you had difficulty conveying it with how you were breathing. 

Joel looked down your body, to where your dress had hiked up, exposing a lovely lacey thing that covered you. The strain at his jeans grew more tight and his heart and mind raced. 

“Joel, I need it. I need you, please, baby. Give me whatever you have.” you whisper, clutching at your chest.

“Fuck, sweetheart, let me take care of you.” He groans, shifting you slightly so that his body shielded you. 

He pulled your dress up a little more before sliding his hands down your body, taking in the curve of your figure and the plush of your skin. He cupped his hand at your mound and you whined, bucking your hips up to meet his hand as his other hand snapped the band of your panties at your hip bone. 

“Shh, baby, relax.” He whispered before lifting your hips and pulling your panties down before stuffing them into his back pocket.

You keened as the outdoor air hit your already soaking pussy. Joel dipped his finger in your folds, absolutely mesmerised by how wet you were already. 

“Good lord, you’re already dripping and I haven’t even properly had my way with you.”  He pushes one finger through and you swear you almost lost consciousness with how you let the air escape your lungs.

“Joel, please.” You needed something else or else you were going to lose it like a mad woman.

“Patience, pretty girl. I need to stretch you open first, don’t know if it's gonna fit in your perfect pussy.” Joel purrs as he inserts another finger and pumps them in and out, your slick making it easy. 

You bit down hard on your bottom lip, breathing hard and Joel immediately chastised you.

“Nuh uh, sweetheart I need to hear you, let go of that lip, that's right.” his Southern drawl makes your mouth drop open and the symphony of noise starts again. 

He hooks his fingers and hits that perfect spot, arousal bubbling hard at your abdomen as your back arches off the blanket and your chest puffs out. You were absolutely turned on by the situation, having your first with Joel out in broad daylight. One of your tits jiggle out of the confines of your low cut dress, making Joel grin down at you, letting his free hand slide and capture it, squeezing down at the pressure in which he hits your g-spot again. 

“So fucking beautiful, wanted you for so long, angel.” He moans, pulling his fingers out and slipping them into his mouth as your hands undo his belt and his jeans. 

Your eyes stayed on his as he sucked your arousal off his fingers. He spit onto his hand before taking over and pulling his cock out of boxers. You gaped at the size of him and realised that he wasn’t just bragging when he said that it’d be a tight fit. He fisted his hardened member a few times, tipping his head back as he squeezed the tip a little. 

“Baby, I don’t have a condom.” He says and you swear your whole demeanour lights up.

You realised that he truly didn’t intend for this to happen and he wanted you to enjoy your picnic. He certainly wasn’t complaining now with how hard his cock is and you weren’t either as your pussy clenched around nothing. 

“That’s ok, I want to feel you. Only if you’re okay with it.” You tell him shyly and Joel swore that Christmas had come early for him. 

He nodded silently and he braced himself with his arm as he pushed himself against your entrance, running his cock up and down your slit, catching your clit a few times. 

“Inside, Joel, want you to fill me up, with your cock, your cum, your everything.” You slurred slightly the arousal making you stupid and all you could think of was getting your fix from the handsome man above you. 

Joel slips inside you with a groan and you hiss at the burn. You’ve never had someone so big and your eyes teared at the stretch. Joel, as attentive as ever, stopped in his tracks, his eyes searching yours. He was terrified, terrified of hurting you as he speared you hard. 

“It's ok Joel, it’ll be ok, move baby.” You smoothed your hand up and down his arm and he obliged. 

Your movements stopped and you were now gripping hard at his biceps as Joel slowly bottoms out, grinding as his pubic hair tickled your clit. You were absolutely dizzy with delight, your head lolling as you smiled up at Joel. 

“Not gonna last, your pussy’s so tight.” He breaths. 

“We come together, baby.” You urged as the sting dissipates and the pleasure waves started coming in. 

At first Joel had control, the slow drag of his cock creating the most beautiful feeling in you. You felt so close like this, with him in you, your pleasure morphing into the feelings that you had pushed away, making you realise that you actually love this man. 

It was when Joel’s thumb found your clit when all hell broke loose. He started pistoning his hips, his free hand finding your wrists and pinning them over your head. You pulled your wrist out of his grasp as he fucked into you faster before lacing your fingers with his. 

“Ungh, Joel, just like that, ungh, fuck me, fuck me, fuck, ungh.” You babbled as your grip tightened. 

Joel could almost cry at how beautifully you were taking him, your whole body shaking as your moans echoed with his grunts in the empty valley. His thrusts were on the cusp of being sloppy as he felt his pleasure catch up with him. His thumb at your clit was a little too much and the bubbling pleasure boiled over as drool seeped from your mouth. 

Joel licked your saliva and kissed you hard as you came undone, breaking it off to see your face contort as you came hard, your arousal gushing around his cock. Just at the sight of you cumming, Joel’s pleasure got the best of him and he thrusted hard, pumping a generous load of cum deep inside of you as you milked him with how your pussy was still clenching hard. 

“Fuck, I love you! Pretty, pretty sweetheart, all mine.” Joel babbled too and the words hit you like a truck, prolonging your orgasm. 

Joel slumped against you, kissing your neck softly as the both of you basked in the sun and the glow of the mind altering sex. 

“I can’t believe you kissed me.” You say out loud and Joel brings his face out of your neck, an exasperated look adorning his handsome features. 

“You’re telling me that I stuffed you full of my cum, told you I love you and you’re still thinking about the kiss, darling?” He huffed and your face blazed at his dirty mouth.

“T’was a good kiss.” You mumbled as Joel laughed and grabbed a few napkins before gently pulling out. 

“I love you too, by the way.” You say and Joel’s cheeks flushed pink. 

He bent down and kissed your forehead, nose and lips before cleaning you up. 

“Why don’t I clean you up and we can go home and I’ll show you how good I kiss you and how much I love you. Maybe I can put my nose to use this time.” He winked at you as he pulled your dress back into place, casually forgetting to return your panties. 

Your face heated up as he gathered you in his arms and walked you to his truck, finally feeling like you had found your true home. 

Tagging: @wolfbook87 @bodhisattva11 @nyotamalfoy @whatsliferightnow @minigirl87 @alexxavicry @marygraceee @bloodredwolfsbane @euphoricosmo @violet-19999 @celiaswife @kierramofficial @ryebreadsworld @your-voice-is-mellifluous @lil-stark @absolutelybloodyhopeless @mintpurplemnm @bubblezuku @cookielovesbook-akie @mandoloriancookie @magic-schoolbusdropout @anony-muse @anonymously35 @nerdreader

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[webslingingslasher]

PENNE IS MY FAV TOO. it’s the best.

trouble likes it too bc it sounds like penis which makes her giggle.

idk ab peters tho

trouble drunk and giggly one night, torturing peter as he’s trying to sleep.

‘c’mon, trouble. please.’

you poke his nose, he’s twitching it like a bunny. you find it adorable, he’s two seconds away from slapping your hand.

‘did you know…’ you poke again, peter moves to his back to refrain from gentle abuse. ‘your name is peter?’

peter gives a short hum, he’s beginning to regret not sending you home with your roommate. ‘and did you know, that peter is like… a euphemism for penis?’

a sarcastic gasp, ‘wow, trouble. that’s totally the first time i’ve ever heard that.’ you do not hear the sarcasm, ‘really?’ then, you giggle. ‘peter has a peter.’

‘my peter will never be near you again if you don’t stop.’

‘alright, penis parker.’

‘please don’t call me that.’ you find it hilarious, pawing at his face to try and get him to look at you. ‘c’mon, penis. it’s funny.’

peter pulls your hand off him, he’s not delicate when he tosses it to the bed. ‘it hurts my feelings. i used to get called that by people who weren’t my friends. please stop.’

you frown, clambering towards peter to hold him. he wasn’t asking for pity, he was just trying to get you to stop. you confuse it for him being raw, he’ll give you a gold star for trying.

‘okay. you’re my peter, and not at all related to a penis. you don’t even look like one, so, they suck or something.’

‘thanks, trouble.’

you kiss his shoulder, ‘it’s fine with me, i still have the penis pasta.’ peter’s mind is racing, the fuck is penis pasta?

‘penis pasta?’

you nod quick, ‘the ones with the cuts at the end?’

‘oh, jesus christ, trouble. it’s penne. penne pasta.’

‘hm. i like my name better.’

#frat!peter

[themotherofblood]

chapter 5 | RIVER OF FIRE | blood runs thick | d.t x reader x r.t

masterlist | series masterlist | previous chapter

synopsis: the aftermath of Alicent being wed to Viserys.

~ “Did you think it all true, all these things will catch up to you now.” ~

It truly wasn’t much of a bother, was it. Here you were, threading together a bouquet with gold silk threads and next to you paced Rhaenyra, cursing practically anyone that would dare interrupt her maniacal pacing. Five steps she would walk forward, mutter curses under her breath and then she would turn, walk five more. The antechamber almost grew hot, burning along with Nyra’s ire, the dragon flames within her burnt so bright, you feared for the Queen’s life.

She was just next door, being readied for her wedding by her Hightower cousins, you could hear the rambling and muffled giggling and jangles of gold bangles and necklaces. Her wedding to Viserys - by the gods - even now brought bile to the back of your mouth coating it with bitter thickness. It wasn't unheard of but perhaps when the bride bleeds from so close to home, one might truly weep for her virtue. Even if she were to be the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, a girl and a grieving King. What bore far more pain was that she hid it, for months she hid her ongoing relationship with the King, from you, from Rhaenyra. Being unable to aid Rhaenyra through her grief to which Alicent sewed parts of Rhaenyra back together with such ease. She is wise, truly wise, yet she hid this. Rhaenyra believes her a traitor now, for weeks she voiced the fear of Aemma’s memory fading if Viserys were to remarry, Alicent listened and yet said nothing.

You were pulled from your thoughts as the doors to Alicent’s bed chambers opened, ladies poured out one by one, bowing to you and Rhaenyra before heading for the Grand Sept, the bells had begun to ring, marking the King’s arrival to the Sept.

A girl of six and ten turned into a woman, Alicent stood at the door with a stunning ivory gown, her cape sleeves curving around her figure and intricate gold metal work placed on her shoulders to mimic dragon wings, her beautiful brown hair pulled up. She was radiant as always, you couldn't help but smile at her, it was her wedding day after all.

Alicent’s eyes flicker to Rhaeyra, expecting to find some warmth within the purple of her eyes, Nyra gives Alicent a once over, taking in what had seemed like a nightmare come true.

“You look lovely, your grace” the hint of sarcasm coated thick in Rhaenyra’s voice as she bowed to Alicent before taking her leave.

You pitied her, the smile you gave her after screamed so, the Queen loved by all but the one closest to her. You walked her, reaching out to fix an untucked ribbon and then handing her the bouquet.

“Is there no way that I might mend this?” she sighed, sorrowful and guilty.

“Not today.”

She looked defeated as you fussed with pinnings of her wedding dress.

“Not today, because today is about you, our petty problems will be with us tomorrow too, my lady.” you give her a once over before once more smiling at her “today you become Queen.”

This time she matches your smile, a long breath shaking away the sorrow weighing upon her shoulders. You walked behind her, lifting her long train with both arms as she proceeded to walk.

There was this joy, your friend was being wed, a momentous event but you couldn’t breathe past how terrified Alicent looked, and torn over how perturbed Nyra appeared to mask her strong need to sob. Your lover and your companion, both bleeding from the wounds of court and you could help but one, a side that you had to choose. She had ripped through two dolls, sobbing over the one gown she managed to steal from her mother’s chests. She didn’t want a stepmother but most of all she didn't want to have to lose a friend so cruelly. No matter how tightly you held Nyra through the nights and gave her comforting touches, the dark shadow of doom that seemed to follow never left her, it loved her more than you could. More than the sunshine could cast a shadow, it persisted. At supper and at tea, it pained you to watch her so.

So much so, she wrote to Daemon, begging him to return, to stop this madness, speak some sense into his brother but what was done couldn’t be undone by a banished prince, now could it?

You reached for Nyra’s hand as you stood amongst the people, watching the Targaryen cloak draped over Alicent taunt her. All would be well, all must be well, you prayed. A marriage for the stability of the Realm, even with an heir, the lords never truly seemed satiated.

As Alicent and Viserys turned with their heads held high, the crowds cheered, roared in an out pour of joy. A new Queen had blessed the Realm, soon she would bless the Realm with a son.

A son, you looked to Rhaenyra. The whites of her eyes had gone red, moist.

“She is no Queen of mine.” she angrily whispered to you.

In the vast toll of things, one thing you had expected less. Rhaenyra had charged her ladies to be so frigid to the Queen. You sat with her and her ladies, leisurely pushing your needle through the fabric and then back out, every now and then glancing at Alicent and the growing mound of her belly hidden behind the plush blanket she sat under.

A rabid dog with a mustard collar, that’s what you were to her. Shielding her from the bitch-like behaviour many of these courtly ladies had directed towards her. Loud mouthed wenches, snickering behind her back, most of them had expected to be Queen– now they lick their wounds, playing those half cooked political games to gain Alicent’s favour. Most of all, you shielded her from Rhaenyra’s wrath, raging just as hot as Syrax’s fire, burning all those who might to diminish it, though you– immune to the brunt of it all, both figuratively and literally. The Targaryen in you kept you Valyrian-clad, and Rhaenyra’s lover in you kept you protected.

You looked out the window this time, you were sure she was up there– somewhere so high where if she was to let out rageful screams, she would be the only one to hear. Well– her, Syrax and perhaps a vulture or two. You and her had talked about it at length, while Viserys saw the possibility of a spare, all Rhaenyra saw was an heir, to overshadow her, to depose her before her father sold her hand in marriage to the highest bidder. A castle? Gold? Armies or perhaps a foreign political connection, casting her away. Just as Jaehaerys’s daughters suffered, so would she.

Your mother Daenereys was probably the most fortunate of the lot, along with her sister Alyssa. Both women married the men their hearts desired, Alyssa and Baelon producing the purest of Targaryen children and your mother bringing Dorne into the fold by marrying your father Allyrion Martell. You however bleed Martell through and through, unlike your brother that possessed purple eyes, the ravenous features of a true Dornish woman embraced you as you grew, full lips, sun kissed glow, a distinct head of loose curls, leaving but a few streaks of white, just like Princess Rhaenys.

That was besides the point that even with the macabre tradition of the Dornish and the contumacy of Targaryen traditions, you couldn’t fathom admitting that you indeed wanted Alicent’s child to be a boy, for that little child to be heir so you and Rhaenyra could fly east, just like you always dreamed of, marry and live in a quaint little hold with servants purchased from sold jewellery and a farm of your own. Yet once a prey tastes blood, it can only want for more, Rhaenyra’s purpose was this, to be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, she found power within the title bestowed upon her and just as demanded flaunted his oddities with immunity so would she, you could do naught but follow her, obey her commands and prepare for the day that she would sit the Iron Throne– with a husband on her back instead of you.

You couldn’t give her heirs of her blood, no blood magic nor prayer could change that you too were born a girl, and the unnatural pairing of the two of you would lead to carnage.

“Princess?” the voice of Enorah standing by the doorway tore your attention, you looked at her, momentarily stunned– returning to the world of the living “The Princess Rhaenyra has demanded your presence in the Godswood.”

Demanded

Rhaenyra knew at the cusp at which she played at, your afternoons were Alicent’s by the King’s “suit,” you turn to Alicent apologetically.

“My Queen if I may…”

“Go on, I have my other ladies to keep me company, perhaps I might return to my chambers for some respite.”

You looked around the ladies scattered across the chamber floors before neatly putting away your embroidery ring, you stood, back straight and shrouded in formality. You bowed to your friend before taking your leave.

You knew how you find Rhaenyra in the Godswood, hair mussed— stinking of dragon on the rage of the fourteen flames in her eyes.

“Why must you be with her?”

Something so sacred but irreparable, such a bind of sisterhood never found again. Squandered yet again by what you knew to be the ugly politics of lords in their ivory towers. What irked you the most was the price paid was you— your companions barely old enough to bleed let alone be pawns to whatever bargains were being struck in the Great Halls of the Red Keep.

You remembered the fight they had so vividly, almost envisioning it as you entered the Godswood.

“Rhaenyra, slow down!” You huffed, hiking your skirts to chase behind her.

Viserys had just announced his proclaimation, you stood there. Among the choices he had, along with Laena. Alicent too was— oddly among the lot. It wasn’t a surety until he said her name.

You were sure Rhaenyra felt it harder than you did, right in your gut. A dagger wound, you should have seen this coming. She looked torn, regrettably so, but why? She would be Queen.

Thus you chased out Rhaenyra, down the stairs and to the Godswood where she wiped at her angry tears.

Dear gods

When the realization set it, your closest friend had lied to you, through her teeth. Under the disguise of consolement and wise words of religion and perhaps comfort. She hid her “affairs” with Viserys.

For her sake you wished that she would steer clear of Rhaenyra but such fate was beyond her for she too followed.

“You!” She whipped her head furiously towards Alicent.

“Why? I wept to you, afraid for my mother’s memory and you betrayed me!”

“Rhaenyra truly—“

“You do not speak! You do not breathe near me.”

“Ever again…”

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader x rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen #desiblr #daemon targaryen #got x reader #house of the dragon #rhaenyra targaryen x reader

[layce2015]

The Boys (Soldier Boy x Female!Supe!Reader)

Chapter 4: Glorious Five Year Plan

Chapter 1 / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Present Day

*(y/n)’s POV*

"It's Solid Gold, starring Marilyn McCoo. With Solid Gold recording stars Kim Carnes, the Oak Ridge Boys, Waylan Flowers and Madame, the Solid Gold Dancers, and our first very special guest of the night, Soldier Boy!" The announcer from the show said as I sit there in my living room, watching, Bethany sitting next to me.

The camera pans down on the stage to show Ben, wearing his superhero suit including that helmet, standing on the stage as he begins to sing.

Fab Five Freddy told me everybody's fly

DJ spinning, I said, "My, my"

Flash is fast, Flash is cool

François c'est pas, Flash ain't no dude

And you don't stop, sure shot

Go out to the parking lot

And you get in your car and you drive real far

And you drive all night and then you see a light

It comes right down and lands on the ground

And out comes a man from Mars

And you try to run, but he's got a gun

And he shoots you dead, and he eats your head

And then you're in the man from Mars

You go out at night, eating cars

You eat Cadillacs, Lincolns, too...

As he sings, he did dance a bit then walked across the stage as the female back-up dancers surround him, all of them placing their hands on any part of him they could touch. And even watching this old rerun now, I still felt a bit jealous of seeing this just as I was when I was there on that show. I remember being a bit annoyed while I was standing backstage watching this from a TV screen.

"Weren't you on this episode as well?" Bethany asked me. "Yeah, I was." I muttered.

Sure enough, when Ben's song ended the camera switches to show the disco ball hanging from the ceiling as the announcer said. "And now for our second special guest, Mystic Shade!"

And the camera pans down to show me, in my superhero suit, on the stage, leaning against a tall white platform and I hold the microphone up to my lips. "Oh, there you are!" Bethany said, in a teasing manner, and I rolled my eyes.

Girls! Girls!

Watch out! Watch out!

I turn my head to look out at the crowd and I stand up, straighter.

There's a two legged animal running about

If it smokes a great big cigar

And it hangs around at a bar

If it tells the biggest lies, wears the loudest ties

It's a man

If it acts just like a crossed patch

Has a face with whiskers that scratch

If it's stubborn as can be, mean and ornery

It's a man

I watched myself saunter across the stage as I sang this old song, I raised a finger as if pointing out to the crowd before I lowered my arm, continuing to sing. "Wow, look at you go." Bethany teased and I scoff out a laugh.

It if walks, if it talks

If its habits are a little bit peculiar

If it brags and tries to make you think it's wonderful

Be on the lookout, don't let it fool ya

But if it makes the moon up on high,

More than just a light in the sky

If it kisses you and you find you like it too

GRAB IT!

It's a man

At the point I sang GRAB IT I raised my right hand up and clenched it into a fist then unclenched it and placed it on my hips as I do a bit of a dance with a smile, continuing to sing the song.

"Good God, I look so ridiculous." I muttered. "No, you don't. You're now sounding like an old woman." Bethany said, a bit of sarcasm, and I look over at her, she of course had aged a bit, wrinkles had appeared on her face and her hair was turning gray but I could still see that young girl I met back in the 70's underneath all those wrinkles.

"Well, you do realize I'm a little over a hundred years old. I think I deserve to sound like one." I said, smiling. "And yet you still look like you're in your early 30's." Bethany said and I chuckle. "Yes, bathing in virgin's blood does have its perks." I joked and we laugh.

"What? That's the secret? Why didn't you tell me?!" Bethany asked me, in a fake offended voice. "It's a curse I must bare." I said, dramatically, and we laugh and go back to watching the show as I continue to sing the song.

It if walks, if it talks

If its habits are a little bit peculiar

If it brags and tries to make you think it's wonderful

Be on the lookout, don't let it fool ya

And then one of the male backup dancers, dressed in a suit, comes up next to me and gets down on one knee.

But if it's kneelin' down on one knee

Sayin' darling please marry me

Then don't hesitate, better name the date and then

I had walked over to the man and caressed his cheek for a moment then lowered my hand to his tie as I sang the next few lines.

GRAB IT!

HOLD IT!

HANG ONTO IT! 

I grabbed the man's tie, yanked on it to make him stand up and pull him close to me. The guy looked surprised but also seemed to like it as I give him a flirty smile.

For It's a man

I belted out that last line then I pulled the man down towards me and I kissed him. I face-palmed at this while Bethany said. "Ooooohhh."

The music stops and the guy and I break the kiss and we share a smile before the camera switches to a different guest. "I'm gonna guess Ben wasn't happy about that kiss, was he?" Bethany asked me and I shake my head. "No, he wasn't." I said. "He didn't hurt you, did he?" Bethany asked me, concerned, and I shake my head as the memory of what happened after I left the stage came to mind, a smile slowly forming on my face.

"No, he didn't. He, uh...he did something else." I said and Bethany looks at me then noticed my smile. "Oh, I know that smile. Give me details!" She demanded and I shake my head. "A lady never kiss and tells." I said and we share a laugh again. We look back at the TV and my mind began to wander back to that night of the filming of this episode.

Flashback

I walked backstage after the performance and a few people smiled and congratulated me as I walk past them. Then I look over at Ben, who did not look happy. “What the fuck was that?” He asked me, angrily. “What was what?” I asked, feigning ignorance. I start to walk past him but he grabs my arm and I turn to face him.

”You know damn well what I mean.” He growls and I smirk at him. “Ease up, Soldier Boy. Jealousy is not a good look on you. Besides, it was all an act.” I said. “You sure? Because it didn’t look like an act.” He said and my smile grew. Honestly, I was having fun messing with him. “So what if it was?” I asked him then I lean into him. “What are you gonna do about it?” I asked and I see his eyes darken as he glares at me.

Most people would’ve backed down from this glare but I didn’t. Because I could see the lust and desire in his eyes, which told me I was in for it.

I let out a moan that really sounded like it could've come out of a porno as Ben shoved me up against the wall of his dressing room, thrusting roughly into me, my legs wrapped around his waist.

"Fuck, Ben!" I exclaimed. "That's right, you better say my name! Not that asshole you kissed! You are mine!" Ben growls as his thrusts become harder. I let out a strangled moan as I started to feel drunk with how good Ben was making me feel until I felt his thumb rubbing my most sensitive spot.

I cried out again as Ben said, with a low growl. "This is mine! No one else's! Say it. Say that this pussy is mine!" Then his thumb works faster and my walls clench around him even harder. "Y-Y-Yours...always....I'm..yours..." I was able to say in between gasps and moans I was letting out.

"You damn right you are!" Ben growls in my ear as he pounds into me and rubs that sensitive spot even faster and harder.

And at that moment, I shut my eyes and felt them roll back as a very powerful orgasm washes over me. "BEN!" I screamed out in ecstasy and then he growls out my name in my ear as I feel him release himself inside of me.

The both of us stilled and catch our breath until we hear a knock at the door. Both of us look towards the door, lazily, when the voice of the producer of the show calls out. "Soldier Boy, you and Mystic Shade are up in ten minutes."

"Okay, thanks. We'll be out there." Ben said and we hear the guy leave. Ben turns to look at me then gives me a soft kiss on the lips. "Looks like round two is gonna have to wait." He said as he pulls out of me. I hiss at this and set my wobbling legs on the floor before he walks over to his table that was next to us.l

"There's more?" I asked, breathlessly, as he goes to grab a towel and wipes himself clean, puts his pants back on then zips it up. "Yeah...gotta make my girl know who she belongs to." He said as he comes up to me and cleans me up as well.

"Well, in that case...I should be punishing you in round two." I said, smirking, and zipping up my pants once he finished. "How so? I didn't go kissing anybody." Ben said, tossing the towel aside. "Oh, but you did let all those girls touch you, let them run their hands all over you." I said as I sauntered over to him, my legs still feeling a bit like jelly.

I get up close to him and I grab his crotch, he tensed up at this and he let's out a small sigh through his nose. "If my pussy is yours then this dick is mine. And no one else can have it, no other woman should be touching you, understand?" I asked him and I could hear a low growl coming from him as I tightened my grip on it.

"Yes, ma'am." He said, lowly, and I give a seductive smile. "Good boy." I cooed and I kiss his cheek then let him go and go towards the door. "Where you going?" He asked me and I turn to face him. "Gotta go clean up my face and hair. Probably look like a used whore." I said and Ben looks me up and down. "More like properly fucked, in my opinion." He said, with that cheeky grin, and I rolled my eyes.

"I'll see you out there, Soldier Boy." I said, in a sultry voice. "See you later, Mystic Shade." Ben said and I walk out of the dressing room.

Present Day

I sighed a bit as Bethany pats my arm and points to the TV. "I forgot you two did a duet!" She exclaims and I look at the screen as it showed me and Ben back on stage, I must've being off on la la land in my head for awhile cause I remember our duet was at the ending of the episode.

The music intro to Endless Love began to play as Ben starts to sing first, both of us facing each other.

My love

There's only you in my life

The only thing that's right

I smiled at him as I bring my microphone up to my lips.

My first love

You're every breath that I take

You're every step I make

Then we sang together.

And I want to share

All my love with you

No one else will do

And your eyes (Your eyes, your eyes)

They tell me how much you care

Oh, yes, you will always be

My endless love

"You know, even though you told me about the crap you two went through, I still think you two made a good-looking couple. Better than him and that, what was her name? Crimson Countess?" Bethany said, thinking. "Yeah..." I muttered as I look down for a moment then back to the TV.

Two hearts

Two hearts that beat as one

Our lives have just begun

Forever

I'll hold you close in my arms

I can't resist your charms

And love

I'll be a fool for you, I'm sure

You know I don't mind

'Cause you, you mean the world to me, oh

I know

I've found in you my endless love

I felt this great wave of sadness overcome me and I get up and head to the kitchen. "(Y/n)?" Bethany called out to me as I head to the fridge. "You okay?" She asked as she follows me while I grab a beer bottle.

"Yeah, I just..." I stopped then opened the bottle and started to chug down the beer. "Hey..." Bethany said as she comes up to me and places a hand on my shoulder. "I know I should be over it but....fuck, Bethany, it's hard." I said and Bethany nods. 

"I know, I mean, I wouldn't know how I'd feel or do if Steven died. Let alone forty years after the time." Bethany said. "I know he was an asshole and a bastard but he was the only one that knew what I was going through, what I had been through. He was mostly good to me; couple of things he did, did annoy me. But I still love him." I said then she hugs me.

*3rd Person POV*

Maeve was swinging her sword around, like she was getting ready for battle. She jumps, rolls and swings the sword around until she hears a knock at the door. She opens it and sees it was Starlight. “Hi. Can we talk?” she asked. “No.” Maeve said, flatly, and she goes to shut the door but Starlight stops her. “Maeve, please.” Starlight pleads and Maeve sighs then lets her in and Starlight closes the door.

”I heard that you stopped training.” Starlight said as she noticed that Maeve had moved her furniture around where there was a large space in the middle of the room. “Yeah? You also hear that I wake up six days a week hungover, tits-deep in some random fսck pile? People think what I want them to.” Maeve said as she walks over to the kitchen island. “Okay, listen. Have you ever heard of something called B.C.L. RED?” Starlight asked her as Maeve gets a drink.

”You mean a weapon that can kill Homelander, if Butcher can find it?” Maeve asked her, knowingly. “You know?” Starlight asked, surprised, and Maeve smiles. “Who do you think sent them down the rabbit hole? Actually, I should say I had help with that but still…I brought it up to them. It's why I'm training. Or haven't had a drink in four awful, shit-eating months. Maybe I can buy Butcher a second or two to get a good shot. At the very least, I'll get a couple of licks in.” Maeve said. “Wait, so who gave you the information about this weapon?” Starlight asked and Maeve glares at her.

”Why should I tell you that?” Maeve asked her. “Well, whoever this person is, could join us. I mean, this person obviously wants to help.” Starlight said. “She only wanted to give out the information about the weapon and that’s it.” Maeve said and Starlight furrows her brow. “She?” She said but Maeve doesn’t reply.

“Okay. Okay, okay. So there's you, me and your mystery friend. Maybe we can find some others.” Starlight said. “Right. Yeah. I'm sure you and Duluth's Most Mighty would really get the job done. And I told you, my mystery friend doesn’t want any part of this. This is my problem. I'm the one who was with the asshоlе.” Maeve said.

“Maeve...you cannot do this alone. He'll kill you.” Starlight pleads and Maeve rolls her eyes. “You really care that little about yourself?” Starlight asked her. “I got it coming.” Maeve said before she walks over to her sword and starts to swish it around again.

*(y/n)’s POV*

“Okay, here is one scotch for the pretty lady.” Steven said to me as he hands me a glass of the drink. “Thanks, Steven. I said as I accepted it. I had gone over to Bethany’s and Steven’s house for the night to just have something to keep my mind occupied. Steven is Bethany’s husband for almost forty years and he always had this cheery carefree attitude, even at the age he is now.

“And, of course, for the lovely lady…bourbon!” Steven said to Bethany as she takes it. “A man after my heart.” Bethany said. “I should be the only man!” Steven chuckles and Bethany pretends to think. “Hmm, I don’t know..there is that cute young man at the coffee shop…” she said. “Well, then I better go pay him a visit, show him what happens when you try to get my girl.” He said and the two laugh and I smile and shake my head as I take a drink.

”Oh, and how are you gonna do that? Hit him with your cane?” Bethany asked him, teasingly, as she gestures to the black cane leaning against their couch. “Nah…I’ll just send (y/n) after him.” He said. “And what makes you think I’ll agree to that?” I asked him. “I’ll let you keep beating me at poker!” He said and my jaw drops.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked him. “Well, not to brag but…my superpower is that I am really good at poker. I just didn’t want to show off and let you win so you wouldn’t feel bad.” Steven said and I scoff out a laugh. “Oh, really? Well, c’mon, sonny, put your money where your mouth is!” I said and Steven claps. “Alright, grandma!” Steven teased as he goes to grab his deck of cards but then Bethany looks over at the TV.

”Whoa, whoa, wait a minute! Look!” She said and Steven and I look at the screen to see that there was a news broadcast. It said Neuman Holds FBSA Press Conference on the news banner and Neuman gets up to the podium. “Good afternoon. Thank you all for being here. I'm Congresswoman Victoria Neuman, the director of the Federal Bureau of Superhuman Affairs. For the last year, the Bureau has been working with Vought International under one guiding principle. The most powerful among us are not above the law, including the most powerful man at the company.” Neuman said then she pauses, looks to the side and takes a breath.

”Homelander...has bravely come forward as a whistleblower and provided evidence of crimes committed within Vought by CEO Stan Edgar.” Neuman said and the crowd gasps while mine, Steven’s and Bethany’s jaw drops at this. “And in the coming days, the FBSA will be investigating charges of blackmail, perjury and obstruction of justice against Mr. Edgar. Vought International must be held to the highest ethical and legal standards. The people are entitled to the truth about their heroes...” She said while Bethany and Steven share a look.

”What the hell?” Steven mutters and I furrowed my brow. “I don’t like this. Especially if Homelander is the one that gave that information to her….” I said. “Why do you hate Homelander so much?” Steven asked me. “I don’t know…there’s something…off about him. And I know how things went there at Vought…” I replied. “Plus, Homelander dated a Nazi, isn’t that bad enough?” Bethany asked.

“But he didn’t know…I mean, didn’t you know her as Liberty, (y/n)?” Steven asked me. “Not really well, course I thought something was off about her too back then.” I said and he sighs. “Look, I’m not defending him, I mean, I’m not a huge fan of the guy either but…some men make mistakes when they love a woman. I mean, it came out earlier he and Starlight are a thing now.” He said. 

Bethany hums at this while I stay quiet about this. I don’t know but I think that whole Starlight and Homelander paring is a load of crap and trying to deflect his whole thing with Stormfront.

*3rd Person POV*

Meanwhile, in Russia, Butcher, Frenchie, Kimiko, Hughie and M.M. went to infiltrate a military compound to find the weapon, thanks to Nina. Nina was Frenchie’s old associate and he got tangled back up with her was because his old girlfriend, Cherie, begged him for help to get her out.

So, for that, the boys had to a job for her then she would have her people help them get to the compound. They were able to cut the power out at the compound to make the Russian soldiers leave and they make their way inside.

“Any idea what this Supe gun is supposed to look like?” M.M. asked Butcher. “Ain't the joy in the discovery, eh?” Butcher said and they look around until they see a large metal tube. What is it?” Hughie asked as they look at it then Butcher looks over some papers nearby while Frenchie looks at this large glass case.

“Hey, there's something here. Look.” Frenchie said as he shines his light into the case where he sees a small hamster inside. “Look, look. Oh.” Frenchie said and M.M. comes up next to him to see the hamster. “Hey. What does it say?” Frenchie asked as he shines his light at the label that was written in Russian. “Says his name is Jamie.” M.M. said before he chuckles. “Jamie. Hi. Are you okay, Jamie?” Frenchie asked the hamster as he taps the glass. “No, no, no, don't fսck with it. Just leave him alone.” M.M. tells him and Frenchie chuckles.

”Aw. Jamie. Who's a handsome, petite, little gerbil?” Frenchie said as the hamster scurried around in the cage and Kimiko comes up and smiles. “It's a hamster. My daughter went through three of them.” M.M. clarifies then suddenly Jamie rapidly pounds around in the case, scaring the others. “Oh, shit! Motherfucking V'd-up hamster.” M.M. said, surprised.

At that moment, alarms start blaring. “told you not to fսck with him. Damn it.” M.M. growls at Frenchie and Butcher turns to them. “Look lively!” He shouts and every pulls out their guns and get ready for a fight.

Immediately, the Russian soldiers come in and start firing at the team and the boys all take cover and fire back at them. One soldier was able to corner Frenchie but Jamie, who had gotten out, flies up and burrows into the soldier’s eye, making him scream out in pain before falling over dead.

“Merci, Jamie.” Frenchie said as he nods to the hamster.

“I'm out!” M.M. shouts and Butcher fires his gun but he stops and looks at the others as they try to take cover. Butcher looks over at Hughie, who was hiding, then smiles at him then walks out. “Oi! Evening, cսոts.” He shouts at the soldiers and he walks out. The soldier firing at him but no damage was done to him, thanks to the Temp V.

The others watch this in shock and disbelief as Butcher uses laser eyes to take out the Russians, then he grabbed the nearest one and breaks his neck. Hughie then noticed a soldier coming up behind M.M. “M.M.!” Hughie shouts and he starts to run then teleports to the soldier and punches through the soldier.

”Oh! Oh! Oh, shit. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Uh...” Hughie grunts and pants then pulls his arm out of the soldiers body, revealing him to be completely naked. Butcher glares at Hughie, realizing that he had taken some Temp V without him knowing, and everyone stared in shock. Kimiko covers her eyes as Hughie chuckles softly. “Your dіck's out.” M.M. said, plainly, and Hughie looks down at himself then goes to grab his clothes and puts them on.

”Butcher?” M.M. asked, angrily. “All right, all right, look, hang about.” Butcher tries to defuse. “You and Hughie both took Compound V? What are you two, fսcking Supes now?” M.M. asked. “Temporary V.” Butcher said then Kimiko signs at him while Hughie picks up the busted cast he was wearing, smiling.

”Oh, she say, Why do you do this to yourself on purpose?" Frenchie translates. “Only lasts 24 hours, all right? Break glass in case of emergencies, you know, like this one.” Butcher said. “And you give this to-to Hughie?” Frenchie asked. “I didn't give it to him. The thieving git must have broken into the case and nicked it.” Butcher said as he glares over at Hughie, who looks at him then stammers.

”Let's just find this thing and get the fսck out of here, all right?” Butcher said and M.M. turns to Hughie. “You're better than this, kid.” He said and Hughie scoffs. “Butcher, I'm...Look...I'm s...I'm sorry, okay? It's just, I...” Hughie said then he laughs softly and everyone walks away from him.

Butcher walks up to the large container and he grabs at the edges of the panel and pulls it open. Smoke billows out of it and everyone steps closer to it to see there was a person inside of it. The smoke starts to clear up and they see it is a man with long hair and a beard, a breathing mask was over his mouth and nose and he was restrained inside. The man lets out a breath which is filtered through the mask and he opens his eyes to look at them, Butcher recognized the man.

“Soldier Boy.” Butcher whispered, shocked. Soldier Boy moved his arms to break the restraints off of his arms then takes off the wires then the mask and starts to walk out of the tube, naked as the day he was born. He looks around at everyone then turns as Frenchie stands in front of him. “Ah... It's okay.” He tries to assure. 

Suddenly, a bright orange glow appears in his chest then bursts out of him, Soldier Boy yells as Kimiko runs to Frenchie and pushes him out of the way as she gets hit with the blast and crashes through the wall. The glow dissipates and Soldier Boy grunts then he stumbles through the hole in the wall and walks away.

“Kimiko. It's okay. Huh? It's okay.” Frenchie said as he goes to Kimiko, but she had a barbed wire through her abdomen and she wasn’t healing like she normally does. “She's not healing. Why she's not healing? Kimiko. Why does she not heal? Kimiko. She's not healing!” Frenchie panicked and the boys gather her up and carry her to their van.

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