#there is no reason their outfits should fit each other

[dante-mightdie]

MORE ANGST.

Like, okay, more angst for reader, but I need some angst for 141. Like PLEASE.

So, the reader, frustrated (mentally and physically), decides to take things onto their own hands. If they treat them as if they don't exist, so will they. It starts simple. They don't greet them good morning and goodbye anymore, when the team would only offer a grunt or nod of acknowledgment. Reader doesn't ask them to hang out, or to join into their plans. They start living for themselves, not quite leaving them, more like treating the four men like roommates. Whenever one would initiate intimacy, reader would slip away, offering some lame excuse. At the same time, just an hour later, they'd see a glimpse of reader, all dressed up and pretty, not bothering to let them know where they'd be going as they run out the front door, only to be heared from a couple of hours later. Stumbling through the front door with a second pair of footsteps following suit, and a hearty male laugh. The apartment was as much reader's as it was the boys' so it should be normal they brought someone home ... but was this what the task force 141 though?

changed it ever so slightly but I love this yes

c/w: poly!141, mentions of emotional neglect, alcohol, intoxication

you got the idea after scrolling through social media, rotting away in bed had become a common routine for you. an advertisement had popped up for a bar that opened up a few months ago, you remember asking johnny and kyle to go with you but they were too busy at the time

it looked like a nice enough place. not like the dive bars in camden that simon takes you to, or those annoying ass scotch bars in canary wharf that john insists on ‘introducing’ you to. as if you’ve never had a glass of scotch before. the memory makes you scoff to yourself

surprisingly, it doesn’t take much to convince yourself to just… go. if they won’t go with you, there’s no reason why you can’t convince yourself. they were too busy ignoring you to notice you’d be gone anyway. so, you drag yourself out of bed and rifle through the wardrobe for something to wear

looking good really does make you feel good, you say to yourself when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror once you were ready. you’d decided on a fitted black dress with a pair of black strapped heels. they wouldn’t notice but you added a bit of detail to the outfit

if they did notice that every piece of jewellery was a piece they had bought for you, it would fucking burn. the diamond skull-shaped studs that simon got you, the vintage locket that john had found for you when he was deployed, and the anklet that kyle had grabbed from some fancy jewellery store on oxford street paired with the stunning ring that johnny found at a local market in scotland

you took a deep breath and held your head high before grabbing your purse. when you entered the front room, all conversation stopped as usual. but only because they were too busy eyeing you up and down, “where’re you goin’ dressed like that?”

you roll your eyes when john speaks up, not even stopping to respond. a curt ‘out’ leaving your lips as you walk out the front door and slam it loudly. the boys all looked at each other, shifting in their seats uncomfortably at the interaction

john narrowed his eyes as he glared at the front door. he didn’t like not knowing where you were. even if you didn’t know it, john always knew about your whereabouts

the bar was nice, nice enough for you to drink your feelings away in. in your head, you imagined flirting with anyone just to make the boys jealous. but every time someone approached you, it just filled you with more sadness. perhaps a part of you just wanted the boys to grab you, persuade you to stay with sweet words and gentle kisses like they used to do when you looked this good

it was a few hours past midnight when you finally returned, simon awakened by the sounds of giggling outside and your keys jangling in the door. he didn’t plan on getting out of bed until he heard a male voice speaking along side yours

he stalked down the stairs, following the sounds of your heels stumbling until he found you in the front room. you were drunk out of your fucking mind with some random bloke holding you up. simon’s fists clenched at his side and he decided to make his presence known

“better take your hand off her before you fuckin’ lose it, mate.” he spits, taking a step closer to yank you from the man’s grip. you squeak and stumble from the harsh tug, landing right against simon’s bulky frame as he holds on to your arm to keep you steady

the man takes a step back, holding his hands up in surrender. “woah, i’m not here to cause any trouble. was just making sure she got home safe. my colleague over served her and she said her roommates were too busy to pick her up.”

simon clenches his jaw, keeping his gaze on the man and just waiting for him to step out of line. he doesn’t even notice that the others have climbed out of bed too, coming downstairs to hear what the commotion is about

he turns his head only to shove you into price’s arms, squaring his shoulders as he stares the bartender down. “well, our girl is home and safe now so you best be on your way.”

“relax, mate. she’s really not my type. that one there is more my type.” the bartender chuckles, nodding his head towards soap before turning around and walking out the door but not before giving you a goodbye

price steadies your body against him, already getting an idea of the kind of drunken state that you’re in. he lifts your basically limp body into his arms before carrying you up to bed but he doesn’t take you to the spare room. he takes you to what you have recently come to know as their room

“had a bit too much, princess?” he chuckles, placing you down on the bed. you look at him confused before letting your head fall to the pillow

“‘m still your princess?” you mumble into the fabric. price frowns slightly, turning his head to look at the boys before making work on taking your heels off

“course. you always have been.” he mumbles. you respond with a small hum before completely passing out against the sheets…

#mw2 #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #captain john price #john price #john price x reader #ghost x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #john soap mctavish x reader #soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader

[workinatdapyramid]

august 𐐪𐑂

steven conklin x fem!fisher!reader

WARNINGS: fighting, cursing, underage drinking, shayla isn’t in this soz, angsty teens lol, mentions from scenes in the books!, reader doesn’t like taylor, book taylor personality ( show taylor >>>> )

SUMMARY: it wasn’t belly that found out about taylor and steven, it was his best friends little sister

m’s blah blah blahhhhh: we need some more steven appreciation on here… GIVE MY SWEET BOY SOME RECOGNITION!!!

take a peak ;)

this is kind of long… i kinda got carried away LOLZ SORRT NOT SORRY

* .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

“twenty bucks she calls you jeremy again.” belly chuckles.

you, belly, and your older brother stood at the curb waiting for bellys best friend taylor at the bus stop. today was bellys 16th birthday which meant hurricane taylor visiting for the day.

you weren’t exactly fond of her ever since the summer she came to visit when you guys were 14. yes, you had to play nice with her for belly but stringing along your older brother jeremiah wasn’t exactly a good start to a friendship.

you chuckled beside the newly 16 year old as jere teasingly pushed her into you from his place beside her.

“i don’t.. i think she learned from last time.” he argued. “you think?” you teased, making a mental note that jere will infact be handing over that $20 before the end of the night.

“that’s how she flirts with you” belly mocked facing you as you both made smooching noises.

the bus pulled up infront of you guys, the brakes making a loud hissing noise.

“here she comes.” you say rolling your eyes as the short girl barely fits through the bus doors with the pile of balloons tied to her wrists.

the long time best friends squeal and hug reuniting for the first time since summer began causing you to roll your eyes even more.

jere turns toward you mouthing be nice

“belly you tart! you finally took my advice this outfit is snatched,” taylor spun the brunette in a circle admiring her dress. “isn’t belly looking like a snack?” she asked jeremiah a hint of something mischievous in her eyes.

“always.” the curly headed blonde smiled. he reached for taylor’s bag being the kind boy your mother raised him to be. taylor smirks batting her eyelashes up at the tall boy.

“thank you. you’re such a gentleman, jeremy.” she giggles.

you stood off to the side watching the interaction laughing to yourself knowing your brothers going to be $20 short when we get home.

“hey taylor long time no see.” you smiled offering the girl a polite side hug.

“omg y/n i didn’t even see you there, when did you get hot?” she questioned looking you up and down.

gosh this was going to be a long day.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

you sat beside taylor, jeremiah and belly across from you. a banana float melting in the middle of the table as belly opened her gift from her best friend. a pink bikini. jeremiah teased her about but you knew deep down he can’t wait to see her in it.

taylor takes a bite of the frozen treat as she said, “okay, so, whats the plan for tonight? where’s the party?”

“well, susannah always plans a big lobster dinner.” belly smiles as she puts the bathing suit back in the bag.

you and jere smiling towards each-other, being big fans of the birthday dinner tradition.

“boring. no.” taylor whines causing the three of you to look towards her with furrowed brows. “it’s your 16th birthday. we have to go out” the red head continued.

“no, no, no. these dinners are really, really fun.” belly tried to reason with her stubborn friend.

“yeah, and my mom had the idea to make it midsommar themed, so she got flower crowns especially made for us and everything.” you added taylor quickly glances at you then turns back towards her best friend.

“don’t you think you should be spending your birthday with people your own age?” taylor says taking another spoonful into her mouth.

“i am. you’re here.” belly said clearly annoyed by her bossyness.

“hello? am i invisible?” jeremiah cuts in trying to defuse the tension. he was really good at that. “and i guess steven.” taylor smirks. you shift uncomfortably hoping no one notcied. your brother obviously did scoffing at taylor’s remark.

you look towards belly, her already looking back. everyone in the house knows about your crush on steven the same way they knew about belly with conrad. ever since you were younger the boy was your prince charming. always being there in to cheer you up or piss you off but hey, that’s steven.

“and cams coming, too.” belly quickly changes the subject. you sigh silently thanking her.

“yay, i’m so excited to meet the guy who finally got you to take your eyes off of you-know-who.” taylor jokes.

as quickly as belly was to change the subject she quickly regretted it.

“taylor.” belly warned glancing towards jeremiah.

you coughed.

way to go taylor.

queen of making people feel uncomfortable..

“i have an idea. we can go to nicole’s big blowout at her place tonight. maybe go after dinner?” jere once again defusing the tension

you watched as taylor started at belly

“um yes!” taylor squealed in a matter of fact voice.

“woah, only if bells wants to go? it’s her birthday after all. we gotta do what whatever she wants. boring dinner or not.” you tell taylor not missing the look she gave you. you felt jeremiah lightly kick your leg under the table. you looked towards him. giving him a ‘what?’ expression.

you know how taylor can make belly feel like a side character most of the time and you’ll be dammed if you let taylor do that on her birthday.

belly smiles toward you silently thanking you for having her back.

“who’s nicole?” taylor asked jeremiah turning her harsh glance away from you.

belly smiles excited to fill in her best friend with the plans she’s made over here in cousins.

“she’s my big sister for the deb ball. she’s super nice and just really cool and fun and-

“ugh, i’m, like melting right now. can we go back to the house? i want to change into my bikini and jump in the pool.” taylor interupts belly looking at jere as she finished her sentence.

you roll your eyes standing up from the table as jeremiah says sure

taylor skips toward the car

jeremiah walking next to her as she called shot gun.

“come on bells.” you say putting your arm around her shoulders offering her a sympathetic smile.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

back at the house you, belly, jeremiah, steven, and taylor were in the pool. belly and taylor on one side jeremiah and steven on the other side.

you swam towards the two boys who were hanging off the edge of the pool deck.

“oh hey y/n/n you spying on us?” jeremiah teased. you rolled you eyes splashing him with the cold water. you hated when he called you that. stupid nickname that only reminded you of being a kid.

“stop calling me that i’m not five anymore.” you stuck your tongue out at him, he playfully did it back.

“yeah man cmon y/n’s all grown now. she’s not my little y/n/n anymore.” steven jokingly puts his hand over his heart in agony.

you dunk his head under the water in return, trying to hide your blush from him. it was moments like these where you had hope for something more. where you didn’t just feel like his best friends little sister anymore.

steven quickly comes up from the water his dark wet hair covering his eyes.

“oh yeah?” he challenged lifting you up and dunking you under the water.

you resurface hearing jeremiah and him share a laugh and a high five.

“oh screw you steve-o” you yelled splashing the boy who had your heart.

“any time any place.” he smirked.

gosh that smirk

jeremiah fake gags as your cheeks stained a pretty pink. steven always knew how to give you butterflies.

“we know you’re gossiping about us over there.” you hear taylor say causing stevens glance to change towards her.

as quickly as he gave you butterflies they were fast to be replaced with a pit in your stomach. you shift your gaze down as the two go back in forth with playful banter.

“let’s play chicken! i call steven!” taylor yelled.

you quickly moved towards the pool stairs to hide your frown from the others.

“i’m gonna go see if mom needs any help with dinner.” your voice barely above a whisper. the cool breeze causing you to shiver as you climb out of the pool

“you sure y/n/n?” jeremiah asks you, clearly noticing your mood change.

“yeah it’s fine there was an uneven amount anyways.” you grab your towel and head for the house not turning back

jeremiah turns towards belly, both teens sharing a knowing look.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

you sat on the couch of your second home sulking in your wet towel. mentally cursing at yourself for letting her get to you. you should be out there having fun. it’s bellys birthday for crying out loud.

your thoughts were soon cut short as connie, your oldest brother walks into the living room.

“hey dimples,” he says standing behind your seat on the couch, “why aren’t you out there with the others?” he asks ruffling his calloused hand through your wet hair.

you softly smile at the nickname. connie called you that ever since you guys were younger. oh how you missed your sweet brother

“taylors here.” you mutter pushing his hand away. he chuckles plopping himself down on the couch next to you. “aw, you mean your best friend?” he teases. “yeah fuck you” you shove him lightly chuckling.

“you can’t let her get to you kid. that’s just how she is” he sighs.

“yeah the same girl that hates you because you didn’t like her that summer she was like 14? that’s just how she is.” you roll your eyes doing finger quotes at the last part. connie laughs.

“why don’t you just tell steven how you feel already so you can stop sulking around all summer?” he asks.

you quickly sit up turning towards him with wide eyes. “you’re one to talk mr dark and mysterious. i don’t see you confessing your undying love for belly!” you challenge him reaching over smacking him with a throw pillow.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about… shut up.” he whispers.

you laugh shifting closer to your brother you lay your head on his shoulder. “besides he only see me as a kid anyways. i’ll always be just conrad and jeremiah’s little sister to him.” you sigh closing your eyes.

you stay like that for a while. just enjoying eachothers company. ever since april conrad’s been distant towards everyone so you miss having moments like these with your brother.

“aw my sweet angels.” you hear your mom squeal as she walked into the kitchen.

“hi mom hi laur.” you smile getting up from the couch and greeting your favorite women with a hug.

“do you need help with those?” conrad points to the brown bag full of corn on the counter.

“yes actually, we were supposed to keep dinner light but you know your mom.” laurel playfully side eyes her best friend.

“what?! it’s bellys 16th birthday.” she smiles. “and she’ll love it mom.” you smile back.

“wanna shuck these for us since your not busy?” susannah asked you and conrad pointing towards the corn.

“omg do you hear that? yeah i think bellys calling me. i gotta go hang with taylor and the birthday girl sorry love you bye!” you quickly run back outside.

“i’ll do it mom.” conrad rolls his eyes grabbing the bag.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

once outside you see steven sitting on the porch and jere climbing out of the pool. taylor and belly were probably off walking along the shore down by the beach.

jeremiah notices you and takes his leave inside claiming his need for a shower leaving you and steven outside.

“are you alright?” steven asks straining his neck to look at you standing behind him. "you kind of left in a hurry before."

you walk over sitting next to him on the porch steps.

“i’m fine conklin.” you laugh shifting your arms around your stomach. you tried so hard not to seem nervous around him but he could read you like a book.

steven chuckled looking away from you back towards the ocean. “okay.” he laughs. “but you could talk to me about anything. i’m serious i’ll always be here for you y/n/n.” he says more seriously this time.

you turn to him to see he was already looking at you. you search for something to say, anything, but you couldn't so you settle for a comforting smile. your breathe starts to quicken as you realize how close you guys were. steven noticed it too. his chest moving up and down at a fast pace.

“i just sometimes wish things were different.” you whispered half hoping he didn’t hear you but you knew he did.

“how so?” he whispered back. his gaze locked on your eyes intense.

for a moment you could’ve sworn his eyes flicked to your lips then back up to your eyes but theres no way.. right?

steven wouldn’t kiss you.. would he? no.

he just sees you as his best friends little sister. nothing more…

you're internally screaming as he slowly leans in

your eyes flutter shut waiting to feel his soft lips against yours

this is it.

finally

this is what you’ve wanted your whole life.

“oh hey y/n” you hear taylor yell as her and belly walk back up to the house.

steven quickly jumps up not saying a word as he rushed into the house.

you wanted to die.

just shrivel up and die.

you blink rappidly getting rid of the tears forming in your eyes and smile up towards the two girls.

“i’m starving! let’s go wash up before dinner.” belly smiles pulling you up from the steps and walking into the house.

it’s just one day it’s just one day it’s just one day

you kept reminding yourself as you trailed behind the hurricane pouring on your love life

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

the table was littered with plates filled with delicious food. there was vases of flowers in the middle that matched with the flower crowns on belly, taylor, and your heads. the dinning room was filled with chatter and giggles from everyone getting along.

susannah and laurel sat on opposite ends of the table refilling the hungry teenagers plates. taylor, belly, you, and cam on one side and jere, conrad, and steven on the other.

“thank you so much for having me susannah! my moms says hi.” cam, bellys boyfriend smiled holding his fork up to show his thanks for the food.

you laugh along with the others as the moms interrogate bellys first boyfriend. cam cameron was the nickname everyone called him. you liked him. it’s like he fit right in with the rest of you guys. you were so happy for belly.

“why don’t you eat meat, cam cameron?” jeremiah asked the shy boy. he tries his best to seem intimidating but ultimately cracks his signature smile. classic jere.

“i like animals.” he answered simply. not bothered by all the questions thrown his way.

you adjust the flower crown on your head accidentally making eye contact with steven. you guys haven’t spoke since almost kissing on the stairs. you intend to keep it that way not wanting to have that talk.. the 'you're my best friends little sister we can't do this' talk.

you quickly look away feeling the pit in your stomach return.

“just don’t come for my leather jacket.” taylor chuckles from the other side of the table. you genuinely laughed. she was kinda funny sometimes.

your laugh quickly disappeared once you heard steven teasing her. he just always had an answer when it came to taylor didn’t he.

you finish the rest of your lobster with a sigh patting your well fed stomach.

“that was really good mom.” you said. causing sighs in agreement around the table.

“i agree! thank you too y/n. kinda glad you went inside to help cook after all.” steven said looking at you. the first thing he said to you since what happened on the porch. you look at him with a blank expression.

jeremiah changes the subject going right back to interrogating cam cameron about eating meat which ended in him quickly pecking bellys lips.

you laugh but quickly glance towards conrad who was already looking back down at his plate.

steven and jeremiah both pretend to retch. “i’m sorry i just don’t understand why anybody would want to kiss somebody who once fully shat in the bathtub.” classic steven says embarrassing his little sister.

“i was like two years old!” belly argues

“two? more like six!” jeremiah and steven yelled at the same time. the two immature boys erupt in laughter.

you playfully roll you eyes at the two while belly yells at her brother to shut up.

“i remember when i visited last summer, and you and you dared him to pee in the fireplace, and you stink up the entire house for days. do you remember that?” taylor points towards your brothers and steven. you all laughed reliving all the memories this house held.

“you know i’m thinking.. maybe we should go to nicole’s party.” belly turns toward taylor and you smiling.

“yes!” you and taylor said at the same time.

boy did you need alcohol in your system after the day you had.

after a few more jokes and steven and bells bickering everyone decided to get ready for the party.

you were touching up your makeup in your bedroom when you heard a knock at your door.

“its open” you said not looking towards the door as you reapplied your mascara.

“hey little fisher” you heard steven say as he closed the door. you almost dropped the mascara wand. you turned around facing him uttering a small hey.

“i know we are about to leave for the party but do you think when we get back home we could talk about what happened on the porch?” you could tell he was nervous. he didn’t meet your gaze at all and he was fidgeting.

“but nothing happened on the porch” you felt a pang in your chest.

he sighed, “i know but that’s the thing..” he said stepping closer to you. “i wanted something to happen.” he finished.

you swallowed. “oh” was all you could say.

you guys stood there for a while. silence filled the room.

“i also wanted it to happen. so yes, we can talk about it when we get home” you smile. you can’t believe this is happening right now.

“okay.” he smiled

“okay.” you said as he turned around to leave your room looking back at you one last time.

once you were sure he walked away from the door you jumped up and down looking at yourself in the mirror.

“fuck yeah y/n fuck yeah.” you whispered to yourself smiling ear to ear.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

gotta give it to jere he always knew how to make a scene. you and belly sat on the couch hysterical watching cam cameron and jeremiah singing horrendously along to summer loving.

maybe coming to the party was a good idea after all. “i can’t stand to watch this any longer i’m gonna go find a bathroom.” you laughed getting up from the couch.

you squeezed through all the drunken bodies dancing together on the makeshift dance floor in the living room. you found nicole standing by the drink table.

“oh hey y/n” she greets you with a tight hug. “are you having fun?” she asks taking a sip from whatever was in her cup.

“actually i really am. you sure know how to throw a banger.” you said cringing at yourself. god why are you so awkward.

nicole just smiled

“hey um where’s the bathroom?” you asked actually needing to pee after all.

“the one downstairs has a line it hasn’t moved in ages so just go upstairs! it’s right to your left!” she said.

you thanked her as you made your way towards the stairs. jeremiah, belly, and cam standing near by.

“hey have you seen taylor?” belly asked you. you shook your head no. “i'll help you find her after i use the bathroom?” you ask. she thanked you.

the music faded as you walked up the stairs of nicole’s house. yeah the beach house was big but nothing compared to this. if you didn’t ask nicole where to go you definitely would’ve gotten lost.

you opened the door on the left but it was preoccupied by a couple hooking up. you quickly muttered sorry as you closed the door shaking your head to forget the sight.

you kept looking for an open room hoping to find one with a bathroom in it.

gosh how you hated horny drunk teenagers.

you opened the last door praying to all the gods it was free and had a bathroom. you were about to piss your pants.

you opened the door and all of a sudden the urge to pee was gone.

there in the room was taylor propped on the dresser making out with steven.

your steven.

he was standing between her legs. his hands on her waist as they made out.

your mouth was dry

you couldn’t process the scene in front of you.

you wanted to crumble to the ground and cry.

“conklin?” your voice cracked as steven whipped his head around to see you standing at the door.

taylor quickly hopped off the dresser pulling her dress down.

“oh, my god- shit” steven said as you turned around and made a beeline for the stairs.

“y/n wait!” he yelled as he ran after you.

you made it to the bottom of the stairs causing a few people to look at you running away from the brunette boy.

“y/n/n? what happened?” jeremiah was the first to notice you. you wiped the fallen tears from your cheeks as belly and cam also noticed you.

by then steven caught up to you. you went to run out of the house but was quickly stopped by him gradding your wrist.

“y/n just stop let me explain-

“explain what steven?” you yelled.

if no one noticed before they definitely noticed now.

the chattering around the house quickly stopped as you yelled at steven.

“y/n please. i’m sorry it just happened.” steven tried to plead with you. regret written all over his face.

you looked at him in disbelief.

“go to hell.” your yelled you voice broke as the tears kept spilling from your eyes.

you yanked your wrist from his grasp and looked at belly. mascara stained your cheeks. “i found taylor” you whispered before walking out the door. leaving steven there, carrying your broken heart along with his..

* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

AHHHH TYSM FOR READING THIS!! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED ( pls be nice this is my first actual fic i’ve written! )

#workinatdapryamid #x reader #drabbles #headcannons #the summer i turned pretty #steven conklin #steven conklin x reader #tsitp s2 #tsitp steven #steven x y/n #🎫 #tsitp conrad #conrad fisher #jeremiah fisher #belly conklin #conrad fisher x reader #jeremiah fisher x reader

[slvthrs]

I'M SO FUCKING OBSESSED WITH YOU Y'KNOW | vinnie hacker

--- MINORS PLEASE FUCK OFF FOR UR OWN GOOD ---

your boyfriend loves the way the hot weather makes you look

VINNIE HACKER X FEM!READER

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT MINORS DNI, praise kink, pet names, fingering, unprotected sex (use birth control idiots), hair pulling, slight vouyerism

word count: 1k <3

California is so fucking hot sometimes. The way that shirts stick to skin and the way that when you would walk out of the house and immediately be hit with a wave of heat that absolutely envelopes you. You really wanna move sometimes but you never would unless your boyfriend came with you. Your 5 foot 11, sandy beach blond with freckles and brown eyes, the archetype of someone from California- Vinnie.

From where you live the crashing of the beach waves helps to lull you to sleep in the night and sounds of beachgoers is your alarm clock and as much as you love living here, the heat will always get to you- it’s uncomfortable and suffocating. You’re a person who likes the cold and your boyfriend is exactly the opposite- he’s warm and sweet and kind of like a loyal dog. 

So that’s the reason why you’re currently laying back down in the shortest skirt you could find and a tiny crop top with no bra, sucking on this popsicle like it’s your last meal in the world. 

You let your head dangle off the edge of the counter with your body fully on display for no one. You should be a lot more careful with your boyfriend's roommate walking the halls but he’s seen me in more compromising positions. The sound of the neighborhood is bouncing off the walls of the kitchen and you can hear a soft pair of footsteps coming down from the house's gym. 

And speak of the devil and he may appear- your boyfriend walks into the kitchen to grab some water and so you can shamelessly check him out. He’s just wearing his sweatpants which rest dangerously low on his waist and he is slightly wet and a towel is thrown over his shoulder- which you presume is for wiping up but what catches your attention is the way his hands flex and how big they are compared to yours- It’s like he could drown you in his hands and you would never complain.

But you compose yourself, “Hi babe how was the work out?” you say stretching yourself out more so he can see me even better

He looks startled, “Shit I didn’t realize you were here” He says as he turns to look at me and the moment your eyes meet, you both know that you both want each other,

“Uh it went well, I like the outfit” He says taking a swig of his water

“Thanks” I say with the most innocent expression you can muster and you sit up to look at him doe-eyed “I like your fit as well” You chuckled referencing to how little he's wearing

“Ha ha very funny I work out in this, what is your excuse for looking like that?” He says with fake annoyance

“One, it’s fucking boiling in Cali and two, what do you mean ‘looking like that’” You say  emphasising the ‘that’

He groans, “You just, I dunno, look hot” He admits

“Well yeah it’s like 90 degrees outside” You joke

“You fucking know I didn’t mean that” He says walking closer to me and placing the water bottle away and placing both his hands on either sides of me- caging me in

I finish your popsicle and hook your hands around his neck playing with the wooden stick of the popsicle, “Hmm, I don’t think I know what you mean?” You say faking your innocence

“Oh yeah you wanna play it like that? Fine we can do it like that” He states as he crashes your lips together, you both taste like sweat, ice, and cherry popsicle along with pent up aggression of not having even seen each other in days due to your contrasting schedule. 

He lifts his hands to the hem of your shirt to take it of revealing your braless state, and looks at you in a state of awe, “God your such a fucking whore and you love to pretend your innocent,” He says as he starts to kiss your chest and starts to trail down and before he reaches your skirt he flips me over so your stomach is pressed up against the counter, “It kinda pisses me off but mainly turns me on.”

The chill of the counter makes you almost moan from how hot you are. He flips up your skirt and pulls your panties aside to lean up his cock with your clothed cunt and slams into you, gaining a completely pornographic moan that puts Satan to shame. 

His hands take refuge on your waist as he sets an unrelenting pace tumbling you so close to your climax. One of his hands finds your clit as he circles and teases it making you almost cry of complete pleasure but he stops as the same hand finds your hair and pulls it back so our eyes connect.

Instead of finding a sort of ravaged animalistic look on Vinnie’s face he looks at me in awe as if you look like the world's finest art and dips his head down to your spine and kisses upward and leaves marks all over your neck as he leans into your ears and whispers, 

“I’m fucking obsessed with you y’know”

And the words of praise cause everything to come crashing down- as you cum he lets go of his grip on your hair and it’s replaced with slight kisses on your back that trails down and he soothes you out of your orgasm.

With a few more thrusts he’s following you and then he pulls out of me but his grip on you stays because you both know that if he lets go you might just collapse. 

You stay there just for a bit, “Let’s go before Jett finds us sweetheart.” He says as he’s picking you up and carries you bridal style to your shared bedroom and he draws you into a bath.

#bella fawns over vhacker #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie hacker x reader smut #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker imagines #vhackerr #vincent hacker #vinnie hacker oneshot #vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x you #vinnie x reader #vinnie imagines #vinnie #bella's full works

[kyunzin]

Hey my love, I absolutely love your writing especially with the JJK men. But spinning off of that and only if you have time, could you write a fic where each of them (whom ever you chose) react to chubby y/n wearing a brand new dress they got?

𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐲

character; 𝐆. 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

cw; the price doesn’t matter as long as you’re happy (f!reader)

tags; chubby reader, public sex, slight voyerism (people can hear what’s going on), body worship/ oral mentioned (f!receivng), fingering, standing sex

a/n: thanks ☺️ and I’m always happy to make time for requests

✰ so what if he went a bit overboard in buying dresses.

✰ so what if it may have drained the money he just earned from his recent mission.

✰ why should it matter if he gets to see your bright smile as you walk out of the changing room with the the tightest dress that leaves nothing to the imagination.

he sits there in front of your stall watching as you walk out in a crimson off the shoulders short dress that barely covers your ass and outlines your figure perfectly. a pait of stilettos, a small shoulder purse and a thin black neck scarf to tie the outfit together.

“fuck me”

his hand is covering his mouth so you just barely catch the end of his sentence but you can still see the beaming smile from under his hand. this is your favourite one out of all the ones you’ve tried on so far so you hope he likes it too. “what did you say baby, and also what do you think of this one”

“dont worry about what i said, i think this is the best one you’ve tried on all day”

he stands up, rubbing his hands together as he walks over to you. you turn back around looking at the way it fits on you with a conflicted look on your face. “you really thinks so, I thinks it’s a little bit tight” not a moment later you feel his arm wrap around you as he leans down to press a kiss into the crook of your neck.

“it looks perfect on you baby, I promise”

it’s only a second later that you feel something poking into your back and you have half a mind to know that it’s not his belt and you’re sure he’s doing it on purpose to get your attention pressing into you further. upon realising you let out a shocked gasp “really ‘toru, we’re in public”

“cant help it baby, wanna help me out?”

you can hear the smile in his voice as he rubs up your sides and you cant say that you’re against the idea, but you’re a little nervous about being caught. “we have yo be really quite ‘toru or they’ll hear us.

he doesn’t wait a second before turning you around and picking you up, causing the bag to slip from your shoulders, bringing you back inside the small dressing room closing the door behind the two of you and you let out a surprised yelp when he pushes you against the cold surface of the mirror.

he holds you up by your plush thighs and even with your weight you have no doubt that he won’t drop you as he has proved multiple times that he’s able to hold you.

he long since got rid of your insecurities even though it may have taken hours of him spent down between you plush thighs eating you out and worshipping every inch of you body kissing and licking away any doubts of his desire for you.

your hand reaches to grip his hair as his mouth latches onto yours. after a moment his tongue darts across your lips pushing it’s way into your mouth, which you accept and moan into the kiss as you feel his fingers slide under the dress to pull your thong to the side and slide his fingers into your cunt.

the only reason he’s able to curl his fingers inside you with ease is because he had fucked you against the door before you left, pulling up your tennis skirt sliding your thong to the side for a quick fuck before you left the house. it’s like he’s insatiable, unable to keep his hands of you, fucking you on any surface he deems suitable not that you’re complaining .

hence why the two of you end up licking your way into each other’s mouths in a public space with no shame and it’s not long before you start to feel yourself cuming around he lengthy fingers only for him to quickly remove them. you let out a whine as you break from the kiss “fuck, no no no! please don’t stop. I was so close, why’d you stop?”

“you know you only get to cum on my cock baby, don’t forget that”

“then hurry up and fuck me already” he laughs at you impatience but works on completing you request by pulling your legs around his waist and you get the silent command and lock them behind his back so his hands are free. while he works on undoing his belt and pulling down his trousers you occupy yourself with sucking hickeys into his neck and collar.

you have to bite down onto his shoulder in order to muffle your moan as he pushes into you with no warning though he does let out a whispered growl as he sinks into your cunt. “oh fuck! a w-warning would be nice next time asshole”

he laughs at your irritation and lifts you up from his cock slightly before slamming you back down without warning again. the both of you moaning out a shared “fuuuck” at the jolt of his hips connecting with yours, the slap of your skin against his resonating in the small space.

you expect him to go slow but he does the opposite of setting a brutal pace, lifting and dropping you on his cock like you weigh nothing. the sound of your dripping cunt stretched around his thick cock circulating in the space, both of you panting and moaning out. he has to kiss you in order to keep both of your moans quiet not wanting to draw much attention to you two.

“oh fuck, your gripping me so fucking tight, taking my cock like a -shit! good girl, such a good girl f’ me arent ya”

you nod your head frantically moans to frequent for you to get out a coherent secret but he’s able to make out your little rambles of “fuck m’ gonna cum, don’t stop, please please please!” even without you saying it he can feel it by the way your pussy grips into his duck as he lifts it up. he’s not surprised when he hears your moans of “m’cuming. fuck fuck fuck!”

he feels as you gush around him and it almost sends him over the edge but he’s able to keep it with a harsh bite to your shoulder. he really wants to cum but he can’t because he knows that you would hate having to walk in public with his cum dripping out of you, he regrets not bring a plug with him to keep you stuffed, so he reluctantly pulls out after the waves of your orgasm fade.

“cant fucking wait for us to get home, lets go pay for these and leave”

he gently sets you down and the both of you work on fixing your appearance in the mirror though theres nothing that will hide your bite marks, not that there’s anything you can do about that. you change back into your original outfit and he picks up all the dresses you left hanging on the wall and opens the door leading the both of you out.

it’s hard not to notice the stares of the other customers and he cant help but smile knowing that everyone definitely knows how good he fucked you. the cashiers face is reddened and you notice that she fails to meet either of your gazes as he pays for the dresses, you hide behind him in shame and wait for him to finish paying before quickly pulling him out the store.

✰ so what if you hear people whispering as you walk past.

✰ so what if he has to walk through the mall with a prominent bugle in his pants.

✰ why should it matter if when he gets home he drops all the bags on the floor and fucks you against the door again and then fucks you in all the pretty dresses he bought.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

@riowmie @tyunixia

#✰𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐍✰ #✰𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒✰ #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk gojo #gojo x you #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #chubby reader #satoru gojo smut #gojo x y/n #jjk satoru #jujutsu satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satoru smut #satoru

[talaok]

I just saw the video of the interviewer and Pedro where she called him daddy and asked how he was doing and his response was, “I’m alright, mama.” And I am in DESPERATE need of a fic. Wherever you want to go with it.

pairing: Pedro Pascal x interviewer!reader

a/n: This wasn't supposed to go like this. It's much more fluffy than I expected, but oh well, hope you enjoy.

You were nervous, as always.

The two years you'd been doing this flew out the window each time you knew you had to interview him.

It was such a stupid thing, a schoolgirl crush, but as much as you reminded yourself just how idiotic it was, the feeling never quite faded.

You had no idea what it was, the way he shook your hand the first time, the way his eyes never left yours, the sweet sound of your name rolling off his tongue...

It was all in the back of your mind, locked and loaded for you to remember.

You try to be calm with him though, playful even, but god if he doesn't make it hard.

He and his handsomeness and what you firmly believed was involuntary flirtatiousness.

You were taking a deep breath when you saw the flashes on the carpet starting to die down.

fuck.

It was time.

just like magic, he appeared before you in a few moments, followed by his assistant.

They exchanged a few words and you saw Pedro's eyes focus on you while the men beside him explained to him something to his ear.

You swallowed thickly, his gaze draining all the breath out of you.

God, he was beautiful, even his outfit fit him to a t.

Before you had gotten enough time to properly freak out, he was walking towards you.

"good evening Pedro!" you said cheerfully.

"good evening to you too Y/n"

You had to remind yourself his assistant had probably just reminded him of your name, and that he didn't just know it on the tip of his tongue.

You knew what you needed to say next, but the pit in your stomach informed you it wasn't a good idea.

You forced the fear down.

"so how're you doing daddy?"

He chuckled, and you couldn't help but stare.

"I'm alright mama" he grinned, and you swore you could feel your brain leaking out of your ears, as it had melted.

mama?

"you don't like that?" he noticed the expression on your face.

"I-I do" you blushed "maybe a little too much"

What the fuck

Why the fuck did you just say that?

He laughed softly, a smirk tugging at his lips " That's interesting" he spoke, and you felt like you were about to die, so you decided to change subject.

"so, if you remember-"

"I remember" he interrupted

"let me ask the question first" you laughed

"I don't have to, I remember every interview with you" he smiled "You're not easy to forget"

oh

If you were having troubles breathing before, your lungs were now completely useless.

"I-" you gulped, your eyes glancing at the expecting man behind the camera.

"It's alright sweetheart, what was the question?"

You were as red as the blood flowing beneath your skin.

"You really wanna get me fired, don't you?" you joked.

"that's the last thing I want" he shook his head "how else would I get to see you?"

"well there are other ways," you said before you could stop yourself.

He smirked, and you noticed his eyes scanning your face "I know there are" he said "Maybe I should get to work on those"

and just like that, your heart stopped.

did he mean...?

You couldn't think about it, not now, you had an interview to carry on, or you were actually gonna get fired.

"You have to stop"

"stop what?"

"I can't interview you if I have a heart attack, Pedro" You smiled, and he reciprocated, his eyes playful and yet somewhat... adoring.

"You're right, I'll stop," he said "What's the first question, mama?"

this bastard.

__ __ __

"thank you very much," you said, ending the interview.

"thank you" he smiled, as the camera shut off and the cameramen slipped away after murmuring something to your ear.

You could hear all the other interviewers shout and call for him, but for some reason, he didn't move.

"You should go," you told him "They're all waiting to interview you"

"I know," he said as if it physically pained him "but first I wanted to do something I've been thinking of for a while now" 

"what's that?" you asked

"ask for your number"

You froze. Every molecule of your being stilled in shock.

"I-" you stuttered "a-are you serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"b-because you're Pedro Pascal"

He grinned "And you're y/n y/l/n, the most beautiful and charming woman I've ever met"

Your mouth couldn't help but to break into the dreamiest of smiles, and according to Pedro, the most breathtaking too.

"where?"

he frowned

"Where do I give you my number?"

he too, broke into a smile, relief washing over him as you accepted "here" he patted his pockets "Put it in my phone" he said, handing it to you.

You did, your fingers threatening to type wrong as they trembled.

"done" you said, giving it back

"I gotta go now" he sighed "but..."

your eyes shot up to his

"please don't change your mind sweetheart" he begged

"wouldn't dream of it" you promised, earning a big smile, as he backed away into the crowd on the carpet.

You put your hands on the metal fence in front of you, exhaling deeply as you let your head fall between your shoulders.

did that just really happen?

Did I finally go completely crazy?

And then, just as you were about to accept your fate as a soon-to-be psychiatric hospital patient, your phone dinged.

Two new messages from an unknown number lit up the screen.

-hey mama

-so do you have plans for tomorrow night?

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x fem reader #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal interview #the last of us hbo #the last of us #tlou #tlou hbo #the mandalorian #narcos #joel miller #javier pena #mando #pedro pascal x interviewer!reader #fluff

[merakiui]

boyfriend.

yandere!female!riddle rosehearts x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, obsession, implied (cyber)stalking, cheating, dub-con, alcohol/intoxication, characters written as 18+ note - riddle seeks to prune the filthy weeds from your life, starting with your ill-mannered boyfriend. // inspired by dove cameron's boyfriend.

i. i can’t believe we’re finally alone. i can’t believe i almost went home. what are the chances? everyone’s dancing, and he’s not with you.

Riddle has never traveled to this part of the city before—the seedy, unsavory sliver overshadowed by towering skyscrapers, illicit, perilous secrets tucked away in every alley. It’s not as if she’s here under duress. Although if you were to frame it from her perspective, it would feel less like an active, consensual choice and more of a you’ve-forced-my-hand choice. It’s blatant rule-breaking all the same, a stain on her delicate character. Blight on her shiny social status as a golden child, forever marked as the obedient one.

She’s lived her rebellious streak, was punished swiftly and accordingly, and strived to be better in the aftermath. It was one thing to slip out during independent study, and that fun had been trampled upon by a cruel, heeled foot. That was a child’s error. A lesson learned. A valid reason to sever all distractions and improve academically, consequently maturing with sharp, sparkling intelligence and abysmal social skills. 

But Riddle is no longer that starry-eyed, impressionable child, and she does not make the same mistake twice.

Or so she’s always believed, but she’s willing to risk an unforgiving tongue-lashing and life imprisonment at the hands of her mother if it means she can fix things. No matter how she spins it, the truth remains the same: She’s fallen back on an old habit, sneaking out and keeping secrets. She’s an open book to Trey, though, who she’d taken care to message on the train ride into the city, her text mostly cryptic: Should anything happen, this is where I’ll be. It’s wrong to skirt around the truth, especially when it’s your closest friend. She knows this, but then she also knows Trey gives terribly good advice. The type of terribly good advice you often don’t want to hear.

Advice like: “You need to let her go.”

And Riddle can’t—won’t. 

So she steps into the digital footprints left by that brash, brutish party animal you lovingly call your boyfriend, and she follows the string of social media posts like a diligent detective, flicking through each with manicured fingernails. She commits them to memory so that they remain imprinted in her mind before they’ll eventually expire at the twenty-four hour mark.

In the days leading up to tonight, Cater had taken her out for their usual self-care makeover day, which was really just a day dedicated to dressing up and gossiping at the salon. It was a monthly arrangement, and it kept the both of them entertained and sane. The latter of those two was called into question when Riddle, wholly out of character, selected black nail polish for her mani-pedi, which left Cater looking on with brewing curiosity. She gazed at him, pouty lips upturned slyly, and said, “I thought I’d give red a temporary break.”

“Oh, but red is so your color!” he insisted, raising his phone to capture both of them in frame. 

Riddle smiled at the camera. “I know.”

It has always been her color, a staple in her closet. It’s a favorite she can never truly shake, hence why it stains her lips instead. Bright like arterial blood, a blossoming carnation, it stands out starkly on her pale countenance—the only splotch of color on her person. Cater took her shopping when he’d learned she was attempting to fit a new style into her wardrobe of prim, modest clothes. They ran up and down the racks, grinning at each other from across the store and holding up sweaters and skirts, weighing whether either would suit Riddle’s night out. In the end, she settled for the outfit she wears now: a red tube top, a cropped puffer jacket, a pencil skirt that doesn’t pass the fingertip test (not that she cares to follow that rule), tights, and knee-high heeled boots. To finish the look, she’s pulled her hair from its usual plaits, allowing it to cascade down her back like a crimson waterfall. Fingerless lace gloves adorn her hands, stitched with intricate patterns of roses and thorns.

Cater called it the Femme Fatale Friday fit. It’s a Saturday night, but it feels like Friday when she peers at her reflection in a pocket mirror, checking her makeup once more. 

She will not make the same mistake twice. She’s a paragon of perfection—Riddle Rosehearts, for seven’s sake! 

Stuffing the mirror into a matching handbag, she eyes the skyscraper looming before her, sleek with its metal framework and industrial glass. The bright cityscape reflects off of each window, dazzling with luminous specks of light. She considers the contents in her purse, reviews each with a critical eye, and inhales a steadying breath. 

This is necessary.

She’s an adult now, nearly finished with her graduate studies. She lives on her own in a quaint, pet-friendly apartment with her hedgehog, and she works part-time at the café down the street, putting forth her best effort as she weathers the woes of university. Despite all of this independence, she doesn’t feel like an adult. 

Not when she can hear her mother in the back of her head: You look ridiculous. Come home right now before you make a fool of yourself and sully my good name.

Riddle scowls at the concrete, curling her fingers into fists. 

She’s an adult now. She is not her mother’s doll.

Leaving all hostility and self-doubt at the door, she steps through the lobby and beelines for the lift. It carries her to her destination—one of the highest floors. A penthouse suite. 

And not just any penthouse suite. Floyd Leech’s penthouse suite.

Under normal circumstances, she would never willingly set foot in his territory. She survived four years of school with him, which was already a sickening amount, and in that time she watched him glide through his undergraduate with just barely passing grades. That wasn’t enough to stoke the red-hot embers of envy, though. It only made him seem even more like a cockroach, unable to be crushed by the weight of scholarly responsibilities, for he never took anything seriously.

For that reason, Riddle has never envied Floyd. But by the end of their third year, he had something Riddle didn’t. 

He had you. 

How he managed to settle into a relationship when all he did was slack off, party, and break the rules was beyond Riddle. He was a slippery delinquent, hardly deserving of your sweet affections, and yet you looked at him like he was the only one on the planet. Just where was the appeal? His manner of dress is sloppy. The way he carries himself is unpalatable and crude. The way he acts suggests his insipience is incurable. Even when he applies himself, he is still Floyd and that doesn’t clean his slate or shine his reputation. So in Riddle’s discerning eyes, he does not possess a scintilla of romantic appeal.

You don’t seem to agree with these sentiments, for you’ve been with Floyd for four long years. 

Love is blinding, but Riddle has never been in love before and so she doesn’t have adequate data to prove this point. It was forbidden in her home. She’s only allowed to love the men her mother handpicks, plucking each specimen like they’re ripened strawberries from a bush. In the beginning she found all manner of minor details to excuse them from her life, insisting upon a nonexistent list of impossibly high standards. He was too tall. He was too forward with his interest. He wore contrasting colors. He didn’t like tea. These reasons were far too critical and childish, and each man had been sent away in a huff. Her mother would scold her, halving her with a nasty glare: “Are you planning to die alone?”

Yes, Riddle realized by the twentieth admonishment, yet another man cast aside. If dying alone means romantic freedom in life, I’ll do just that.

The elevator spits her out into the hall, which isn’t as silent as she thought it’d be. Bass shakes through the walls, reverberating all the way through her ribs as if it intends to stir up her organs. She catches her reflection in the windows, noting the dark, monstrous scowl, and smooths her face into something courageous. She means business as she clicks down the hall, preparing herself for the whirlwind that undoubtedly waits behind the door. Riddle starts to wonder how Floyd’s neighbors have yet to file a noise complaint and then stops, her thoughts cutting off abruptly. It’s a challenge to make complaints when your father holds parts of the city’s underground in his palms.

He’s got it easy, that spoiled pest. 

Riddle’s gait slows to a halt and she reaches out to knock thrice. The door is thrown open before she can even bring her fist down. Soon she’s staring at a rosy-cheeked stranger, whose eyes trace her figure like he’s trying to paint her on his mental canvas. She’s prepared for the worst, having tucked the spray in her bag, its container disguised to look like lipstick. The strawberry keychain hanging from her purse is a self-defense alarm, ready to be pulled at a moment’s notice. His ogling does not frighten her, nor do his intentions, if he can even harbor any in that intoxicated brain of his. She’s braved scarier horrors. Like living out years of her life with her mother.

“Heyyy, you one of Floyd’s girls? Here for the party?”

Riddle suppresses the disgusted shiver threatening to crawl up her spine, swallowing bile. “Just the party.” 

She is no one’s girl. Definitely not Floyd’s. 

When she’s let inside and the stench of sweat and alcohol assault her nostrils, coupled with the too-loud party music, she considers retreating, her mother’s judgment echoing: You look ridiculous. Her fingers twitch towards her purse. One text and Trey would pick her up. One call and Cater would be on his way. But then she’d be forced to tell them the truth—would have to admit that she’s chasing the one person she can never have. 

She hardens her resolve, pushes through the throng of bodies in an effort to find refreshments, and there you are, her perfect, pretty wallflower in a perfect, pretty silver dress. The dim neon lighting casts you in a luscious pink haze, and she watches you scroll through your phone, your eyelids falling and opening. You’re so beautiful—the sweetest thing she’s ever seen, more saccharine than a truckload of strawberry tarts. Her hand slides away from her purse, and she tamps down a gleeful smile, stepping over to you with newfound confidence.

“(Name)?”

You turn your whole body towards her, your gaze unfocused. She can smell the liquor on you, can see the hickeys not quite covered by a velvet choker. Her gaze narrows. He’s all over you, isn’t he? From top to bottom, you are covered in traces of him. Her nose scrunches. Just what do you see in him?

It should be her teeth on your skin, tearing it open, bruising it, tasting slick copper on her tongue. It should have always been her, but it’s not. Why did you have to settle for less when you’re entitled to so much more?

You peer at her like she’s something in a museum, perplexing and abstract. And then it clicks. You gasp, your mouth falling open in awe, and your words come out horribly slurred. She fails to hide her wince when you throw your arms around her, hanging off of her like a tote on a shoulder.

“Riddle! You…seriously showed up… Can’t believe it’s really you. It feels like it’s been forever.” You pull away, swaying with the motion, and place your hands on her arms. “Your outfit is suuuper cute.”

She’s blushing. She knows she is because her face is burning with heat and suddenly it’s much too stifling in here. “Oh. Ah, um, t-thank you very much… You look very nice, too.”

Really? Is that the best thing I could say? ‘You look very nice’? Honestly, Riddle…

But you smile, and the sight steals her heart all over again. You can have it. By all means take her heart. Take it and love it to pieces. That way it will be fair when she takes yours. An even exchange in accordance with the rules of love. 

Or maybe it’s more so the rules of romantic warfare, carried out to the extreme on a chessboard. Or a croquet court. Something sporty and metaphorical, anyway.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” she asks, refusing to say his name lest she speak him into existence and tarnish her near-perfect evening.

Her question strikes a chord within you, and you heave an exaggerated sigh. You cross your arms over your chest, leaning against the wall for support. “Left me to go hang with the guys. S’not fair!” you whine, sliding further down until you’re sitting in a defeated heap. 

Riddle bends down to your height, her tone as soft and sympathetic as her expression. “Does he always do this?”

Hurt flashes across your face, but you don’t say anything. So he does. Why is she not surprised?

Who in the world leaves their partner at a party, vulnerable and alone? Riddle thinks, anger flaring up in her chest. Someone could take advantage of you. You’re in no state to be standing here by yourself. That fool… He doesn’t know how to treat a lady at all. How have you put up with him for four years? Your patience amazes me.

“It’s not like…” You shut your eyes and rest your head against the wall. “Not like an always-happening thing…”

Riddle isn’t going to sugarcoat it. She wants her words to cut deep, all the way to the heart you’ve allowed Floyd to bind. “Whether or not he does it often, the fact still stands that he left you intoxicated in the corner of this room. That’s careless and unsafe.” She tilts her head, admiring the way you’ve done your makeup, the way your plush lips jut out in a miserable pout. And it just rushes out, words she’s thought but never had the courage to say. At least, not to the sober you. “I wouldn’t do that to you. You deserve so much better.”

Like me, she almost adds, but that’s too direct. And she’s not even sure the admission will land when you’re so out of it.

“Appreciate it…” You scrub your face, groaning. “Ugh. I feel sick…”

“Would you like to get some fresh air?” 

You shake your head, stubborn to a fault. “Can’t. Gotta wait for Floyd.”

Riddle frowns. “I highly doubt he’s coming back anytime soon.” 

“Still.”

“At the very least, let’s get you some water.” She offers her hand, hoping and praying to the heavens above that you’ll take it.

You do. It’s a flawless fit. Her heart flutters, weightless and feathery, when her fingers close around yours. She wonders what moisturizer you use, what sort of lotions kiss your skin. Are they scented, or is that just your perfume? Or have you done away with perfume for tonight and is that a natural fragrance? Or maybe it’s the sweet scent of a fruity wine, printed on your tongue like a delicious tattoo. 

She wants to kiss you. 

“Just how much have you had to drink?” 

“Like a cup or two? I…dunno. Does it matter?”

You stumble when she helps you up, grabbing at her shoulder for support. Riddle almost falls back, but the wall braces her. You place your palm right by her head, and suddenly you’re leaning in, inadvertently pinning her to the wall. Her pupils nearly eclipse her blue-grey irises, and her breath sticks in her throat. Oh, you’re so close. You’re a drunken mess, pushing yourself up against her, your beauty enveloping her like a chrysalis. If this is a dream, she never wants to wake, for the world that awaits her beyond this is cold and colorless. 

Your head lowers to the dip between shoulder and neck, and she gazes heavenward. The ceiling is much nicer at this moment, if only so she can clear her own heady haze of impure thoughts. 

There are people about, she has to remind herself, shaking off the urge to close her fingers around your chin and tilt your head up to meet her mouth. And she has a boyfriend. Just because I can doesn’t mean I should.

But the chance is much too beguiling. You’re right here, quite literally within her reach, and Floyd’s nowhere in sight. It’s too perfect. She can’t quite wrap you in an affectionate embrace—though that is an irresistible urge she must fight off—so she settles to rub circles into your back instead, dutifully reflecting the role of a concerned friend. It’s not the part she wishes to play. Rather, she’d gladly take on the title of boyfriend if it meant you’d feel loved. Every day, at every hour, for the rest of your life. She’d do all the things Floyd ought to do: care for you, appreciate you, protect you, stay by your side through thick and thin. 

Love is a dangerous, thorny thing, but it’s the encroaching jealousy that kills. 

Floyd doesn’t deserve you. If anything, he deserves a mouth full of soap to scrub every profanity he’s ever uttered. Just what does he tell you in bed? That you’re a good girl? That you’re soooo tight? That you can take it? Does he know which ways you like it? Does he know where to touch so you’ll unravel faster? Does he know how to get you properly, thoroughly worked up, so much so that it feels like your skin is aflame with potent want and desire? 

Does he even know your anatomy, or are you simply a body for his avaricious appetite? 

Like roses twining possessively around a trellis, Riddle holds you close in her arms, her hand sweeping across your lower back. Her glacial eyes scan the crowd, warding off anyone who may be curious with her most malevolent death stare. 

“Mm… I need to lie down. My head is…spinning…”

With that, the murderous, overprotective haze sticking to Riddle like a poisonous fog dissipates. A sickly sweet smile widens on ruby-red lips. “Let’s find someplace quiet.”

Together, the two of you stagger-walk out of the room, leaving the party and its inhabitants behind. Crossing through the attached kitchenette, Riddle pilfers a bottled water from the fridge.

Her mind is sharp as a cut diamond. Her skin prickles with anticipation.

Down the hall you go, with Riddle supporting you with what minimal physical strength she has. A door looms before the both of you, cast in a comfortable glow from a neighboring skyscraper, and you struggle to pull your heels off while she pushes the door open. It reveals a messy room, clothing and candy wrappers strewn about sloppily. 

Riddle feels like she’s on top of the world, and she is. Up in the clouds on the forty-third floor of this luxurious penthouse apartment. 

ii. i could be a better boyfriend than him. i could do the shit that he never did. up all night, i won’t quit. 

All throughout her undergraduate, Riddle pined. Hopelessly. Forlornly. Desperately.

Hungrily. 

It was unbecoming to want something to such an obsessive degree. She buried herself in her studies to do away with lustful delusions, each more distracting than the last. But then you would crop up in her life when she least expected it and soon the two of you were studying together. Soon you were visiting her dorm to watch movies during the times in which she allowed herself the break (and she only did so because it was you). Soon you were spending nights in her room, sleeping sprawled on the floor even though she offered her bed time and time again. You’d get ready in the mornings, debating what the breakfast menu would entail. She’d watch your reflection in the floor mirror as you pulled your shirt up and over your head, eyeing the way you slid seamlessly into a lacy black bra. And then she’d change out of her nightgown, and you’d comment on her undergarments. 

“We should go shopping sometime. You gotta get cuter stuff!”

“Why should I? No one’s going to see it,” she insisted with a flustered huff.

“I’ll see it the next time I sleep over,” you told her, smiling innocently as you stepped into a blue handkerchief skirt. “Besides, there are so many cute sets you could wear. You’d look so pretty in something red and frilly. You’re totally missing out.”

Riddle considered it back then. Your eager eyes had almost won her over, but she was firm in her decision. “I’m fine with what I have now.” 

And the conversation ended there. She really wishes you would have pushed it back then because just a little nudge in that direction and she would have given in, entirely at your mercy. 

Selfishly, she just yearned to be stuck in a changing stall with you. 

All throughout her undergraduate, Riddle fostered a special sort of friendship with you. You’d stop by her dorm during finals to insist she take a break, your offer too tempting. She’s always been weak to sweets. You were close enough to exchange intimate details with one another. She listened to all of your dating woes, and conversely you’d sit still and bear witness to her ramblings about fascinating law facts. Sometimes she’d rant about her mother. You always listened. “She sounds like she sucks,” you said once. “How are you even related to her? You’re so nice.”

It was a pleasant three years. If she deluded herself enough, she could have pretended you were her girlfriend and then she’d have something to tell her mother to put an end to the countless attempts at scoring her a husband. I will never marry any of your options, she would think, playing the confrontation out in her head. I have a partner now and we’re very happy together. Sometimes Riddle imagined her mother tossing darts at a board with photographs of men attached to it, disregarding compatibility altogether in favor of upholding traditional rules. But then Riddle realized she’d have to die before she could ever admit her own romantic freedoms to her mother, and so that conversation only ever came about in daydreams. 

I’d rather die alone than live life shackled in a loveless marriage. She wonders if her father thought the same.

Those three years had been a wonderful reality, filled with sugared, candy-coated love. A one-sided love, sure. But Riddle could settle for platonic affections, for that was just as sweet.

And then he arrived at the doorstep to Riddle’s fantasy cottage, kicking the walls down and sweeping you off your feet.

Floyd Leech has always been a nuisance. You were there to shoo him away every time he came knocking, all broad grins and vexatious jeers. He listened to you most days, a mutt without proper leashing, oddly loyal to you. As if you were his keeper of sorts. Riddle was amazed, befuddled, and worried all at once. Unlike her, you could keep your cool, could still smile so kindly even when Floyd was being an utter pain in the ass with his foolish nicknames. When he tried to pluck Riddle’s hairpin from out of her braids—a handmade gift you had given her for her birthday—she slapped him hard across the face and hissed, “Don’t ever put your filthy paws on me again.”

And maybe it was because you were there that she was able to recover shortly after the outburst. (Although she still meant that slap with every fiber of her being.) Maybe you were her collar. Maybe you were her keeper. Maybe she was meant to meet you so that you could color her world, lead her along into the friendship she’d been robbed of as a child. 

Looking back, Riddle realizes that was the catalyst. Because when Floyd cradled his bright-red cheek, giggling like a maniac, you asked him, “Don’t you have anything better to do? Can’t you bother someone else?”

And then you were made the prime target. 

What’s worse is that you reveled in it, adored every ounce of attention Floyd gave you like it was something holy, later admitting to Riddle during a movie marathon that you “wondered if Floyd was seeing anyone.” She wanted to retch. You, a seraph incarnate, with a devil like Floyd? Impossible. But your tone was so whimsical; you were dreaming of it. You liked him. 

She couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to believe it.

By the end of her third year, just as finals gave way to summer, you threw your arms around Floyd’s neck while he pressed you up against the trunk of a flowering tree. Pink petals fluttered to the ground, and with the falling blossoms came Riddle’s hope, crashing and burning in a heartbroken heap. 

She won’t make the same mistake twice, which is precisely why, when you flop onto Floyd’s unmade bed, she turns the lock to keep all outside influences away. The party is but a mere muffle now, thrumming through the floorboards with reckless abandon.

Her nose wrinkles at the pile of dirty laundry. Slob, she thinks, brimming with hate. What does she see in you? You’re a mess, you’re definitely a criminal, you can’t keep a stable job, you throw obnoxious parties every other week, you leave your own girlfriend unattended… What part of that is appealing? She gazes at you next. You’re too good for him, (Name). You can do so much better. Raise your standards. Find someone respectable and attentive. Someone who’ll stay with you forever. Someone who won’t let you get stupidly drunk and then run off to Queen-knows-where.

“Someone like me,” she mutters.

You have to be coerced into drinking, and you’re so sleepy that the water dribbles down your chin. Riddle tuts at you, swiping the liquid away with her sleeve. 

“You’re a mess,” she says, affectionate despite the barb. 

You’re my mess.

She slides your heels off, casting them elsewhere. You look like a starfish when you lay sprawled, or maybe you’re more like a snow angel. Only rather than snow, you imprint yourself amongst wrinkled sheets. Riddle knows it’s wrong, but you’re right here. She’s waited so many years for a moment like this one.

It’s not fair. 

She unzips her boots, kicks them off, and stands at the edge of the bed, locked in a fierce debate. You should have thrown your arms around her that day. You should have kissed her, should have spent the last four years with her, should have stayed in her life like the permanent fixture you were destined to be. She’s never wanted anything more than this. Not even a surplus of strawberry tarts. Not even the dreams she’s working tirelessly towards achieving. She’s only ever wanted you. 

But Floyd took you away, and her world has never been the same since. 

The mattress dips under her weight; she’s made up her mind. 

“Do you remember the promise we made?” she whispers, running her hands up your legs. You lift your head to look at her, eyes glassy with inebriated exhaustion. “The one in which we’d live together after graduation? You said you’d want to live somewhere pet-friendly so we could get hedgehogs and name them Tweedledee and Tweedledum.”

You hum, your lashes fluttering. 

“We could still do that. Just you and me. Without your boyfriend.”

“What?”

Her fingers catch on the waistband of your panties. “Hm?” 

“Mm, no, nothing… You should get going. It’s late…” “Someone has to look after you.”

“Floyd can.”

She presses her thumbs into your hips and the tiniest gasp leaves your parted lips. “But Floyd’s not.”

“He will.”

“He won’t,” she snaps. Something flickers in your eyes, a flash of unrest. Riddle chews her lower lip. “He’s… (Name), what do you see in him? Honestly, truly, what is it? Please educate me. Please… What does he have that I don’t? What makes you stay?”

“Cuz he’s my boyfriend,” you mutter slowly, perplexed, “and I love him.”

“Do you?” 

“Riddle, why are you so…” The words fizzle out on your tongue when her touch strays too close to home. “Wait… We can’t… Not in here.”

“Why not? It’s just one more mess. He won’t even notice.”

“That’s not it… Riddle, wait. I… I don’t like you in that—”

She collapses, anchoring herself to you, her manicured nails digging deep into your arms. And then her mouth is on yours, clumsy and uncoordinated. She doesn’t want to hear it—can’t bear to hear it. She knows the truth. It’s haunted her from the day she met you, a shadow looming like a guillotine’s blade. You were fated to be forever out of reach. Just like those strawberry tarts in the bakery window. The kiss is filthy, all desire and zero skill. Her tongue flashes into your mouth. It’s nothing like the way they describe it in fiction or portray it in films. It’s obscene. Sinful. Libidinous. Her lipstick smears; she tastes the wine in your throat, licks your teeth and nibbles your lip, delicate and gruesome all at once. She tries her best, unyielding. 

The technique doesn’t matter. Not now, anyway. It’s just blind, unrequited passion. She’ll learn it eventually and when she does she’ll kiss you drunk. It’s just another thing she’ll master. And she will because that’s just who she is. Give her a textbook and she’ll have it memorized. Give her a kiss and she’ll return to practice it to perfection. 

She pulls away, panting, her lipstick in disarray. It’s all over you, smudging on the corners of your mouth. Running a hand through her hair, her figure outlined in the tantalizing glow from the city lights, she licks her lips. 

“Riddle…” 

Spoken soft like prayer, it’s a whisper she’ll treasure. Over and over, without end, repeat it like a mantra. 

“Riddle, please…”

“He doesn’t know anything about your preferences, does he?” Your dress is slid up next. She traces a heart into your bare stomach, capturing your navel in invisible lines. You shudder under her touch, grabbing at her wrist with a limp hand. She brings it up to her lips and presses a chaste kiss to the top of it. “I know you much better than he does. I always have.”

To prove it, she presses two fingers to your clothed pussy. You whine, reedy and high-pitched. “But…”

“I read it takes fourteen minutes for women to reach their end during partnered sex.” She levels you with a half-lidded stare, smirking. What she lacks in skill, she makes up for in raw confidence. “I’ll only need less than that, so you won’t have to feign anything for my sake. I know you well enough, my rose.”

A wide range of emotions waltzes across your countenance. Your arm falls over your face next. It’s defeat or hesitant acceptance, but to Riddle it’s love. 

“Ten minutes,” you whisper, conceding. “And then…you need to leave.”

She makes you cum in just five, covers you in lipstick prints, each kiss a sly cover-up. Floyd may be all over you, bites and bruises blooming new and old, but he’s not inside you, wringing you out like a sodden towel. You sob like you’re in heat when she sinks her fingers into your slick warmth, scissoring so slowly, until you’re begging her to make you cum again. Your fluids soak through the sheets. The scent of sex and sweat hangs heavy in the air. She’s alive, wildly untamed, a knight who’s just rescued the princess and slayed a bloodthirsty dragon. 

Her head is between your thighs next, her hands braced on either leg to keep them apart. You watch her with glazed eyes, soon throwing your head back when she slides your hood up to reveal your pretty, pert clit. Experimentally, she licks a teasing stripe up your slit. You shiver and dig your fingers into her scalp, imprisoning her there. It’s where she’s always wanted to be. 

“Tell me,” she murmurs, the words fanning across your pussy, “if he’s so good, why haven’t you proven it? Is this the most you’ve ever cum in a night? Does he please you or do you please him? If he’s everything you’ve ever wanted, why are you still so unsatisfied?” 

“Because… B-Because!”

Your protests are fragmented and spotted with gasps. That’s arguably more telling than a detailed response. 

Riddle smiles like a Cheshire, her eyes narrowed victoriously. Spidery digits creep along your thighs. Her thumbs dip into your pussy, spreading it wide for her viewing pleasure. “Don’t think of him. Tonight, it’s just you and me. I’ll give you what you’re owed. That and so much more.”

Like a fragile statue, you topple. Right into her, bucking against her mouth like the world is ending, and she’s there to steady you.

She always is.

iii. i’m gonna steal you from him. i could be such a gentleman. plus, you know my clothes would fit.

“Sooo… Gimme the goss. How was your night out?”

Riddle looks up from an assortment of nail polish colors, each one more red than the last, and says, “It was more enjoyable than I thought.”

“Yeah?” Cater prompts, brows raised. “Don’t be so vague! I wanna know all the juicy details. It’s rare for you to stay out so late. And to go to a party, of all things, in the city? Hello?! New Riddle, who’s this?” 

“I was only meeting an old friend.”

“That’s what they all say.”

The technician asks her to pick a color. “This one,” she says, pointing. “The one named Sanguine Sunrise.” 

“You’re totes keeping me in the dark!” Cater whines, dramatic. “At least give Cay-Cay some hints! Something! Anything! Spare change, please?”

Riddle smiles smugly. Pride drips from every syllable when she speaks next. “My friend will be spending this Valentine’s Day alone.”

“Bummer.”

“Not quite. She’ll have me and half-priced chocolates. A rather charming combination, no?”

Cater laughs. “GL. I’m rooting for you.”

You don’t need to, she thinks, tracing the love bite stamped into her skin, hidden under the soft fabric of her blouse. Because I’m already winning.

Her phone buzzes with a text: about last night… if i did anything weird, i’m so sorry. i was way too drunk. 

Riddle turns it over, dips her feet in the heated water, and settles into the massage chair, pleased as a peach. “It was one bad decision. Four years of bad decisions, but it’s forgiven. We all make silly mistakes when we’re lovestruck. Hopefully her silly mistake disappears for good and we never have to speak of him again.”

“You’re so scary, Riddle. Remind me to never get on your bad side.”

Another message arrives: i think we might’ve kissed last night. i’m really super sorry.

There’s a brief delay.

ok this is gonna sound weird coming from me but maybe we can do it again??? floyd’s kisses are sorta… :/ 

Her phone vibrates for the final time that afternoon.

actually i’m just gonna stop talking omg i’m crazy. i have a bf and everything. sorry riddle please ignore all of this kk tysm ttyl <3

wait one more text before i forget,, if you wanna meet up for tea i wouldn’t mind. we should definitely catch up when i’m not hungover. kk bye fr this time <3

A start is a start. You can’t grow a rose tree without first planting a seed.

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere riddle rosehearts x reader #yandere riddle rosehearts #yandere riddle #yandere riddle x reader #n/sfw #tw: dubcon

[soccer-love]

Weddings make lovers

Mala Grohs x reader

Magdas and Pernilles weeding was a thing the whole Bayern team was looking forward to.

The were getting married on a Saturday after the last game of the season.

Everyone helped to make this day perfect.

They offered to let other guest stay at their apartments, helped to decorate the location, picking out the cake and food and helping each other to choose outfits.

The ceremony was beautiful and besides the familys, Tuva was the one to cry, and every five minutes someone else had to hand her a tissue.

After the ceremony and the dinner, the big party started.

Jovi had offered to be the DJ and she really did a great job.

At first she played the song, Magda and Pernille had picked out for their first dance and then more songs you could dance to.

During that, Caro and Georgia took over the bar and tried to give everyone there own cocktail creations, while also being a little bit tipsy already.

Linda was the one to take pictures of everything and everyone.

Syd and Klara where joking and fooling around, making everyone laugh and encouraged everyone to dance.

And I was somewhere in the middle of all of that.

I was already a little bit tipsy, thanks to Caro's newest creation: The Amortentia Potion, inspired by Harry Potter. And maybe that was also the reason why I walked towards Mala as I saw her on standing the side of the dancefloor.

"Mala." I say and smile at her.

I don't know who helped her pick out her outfit, but it was incredible hot.

A blue suit, with a read tie and black shoes.

"Y/N."

"Come dance with me." I say and grab her hand, it's warm and fits perfectly into mine.

"What happened to the shy and calm Y/N?" Mala asks laughing as she starts to dance along with me.

"Maybe this is the true and dark me?" I answer and place her hand on my shoulder.

"You have a dark side?"

"Dark and dusty, hidden deep inside me."

"I am impressed."

We dance for some more and I really enjoy the feeling of her hands on my shoulder.

I like her, more than I should.

More than she likes me.

"Y/N! Sorry Mala but G and I need her." I hear Caro's voice next to me and turn around.

She points over to the bar, where Georgia is standing together with Magda, Linda Sembrant and Zecira Musovic.

"Zecira brought some drink called Akvavit, and you absolutely have to try it." Caro explains and I nod.

"Sorry Mala." I say and let myself get dragged away by Caro.

"This is literally so good!" Georgia says and hands me a shot glass.

The cold liquid burns in my throat but it's also really good.

"Oh my gosh this is really good." I say making them laugh.

"Told ya." Georgia answers, pouring me another shot glass of it and drinking one her own.

"Better be careful." Magda warns, Pernille appearing behind her.

"Careful with what?" she asks, sliding one arm around her wife.

"They are trying Akvavit." Zecira explains, pointing at the bottle.

"Uh yeah you should defiantly be careful, that stuff is really strong." Pernille warns while Georgia and I drink our third glass of that stuff.

"Nah we can handle that, we are big girls." Georgia says and wraps one arm around me.

Caro serves us a round of drinks and Pernille and Magda leave to talk to some people.

The party keeps going till it's late at night, around midnight most of the people started to leave and now there are only some friends, some team members and the brides left.

"I need to go to the restroom." I say to Caro who is still standing behind the bar with Georgia, singing along to a German party song, Jovi finally decided to play.

"Der Zug hat keine bremse." she sings in reply and I cant help but laugh.

The floor on the way there is really uneven and as I come back I see someone coming towards me.

"You're good?" I hear Mala asking, fuck is she hot.

"This floor isn't built right." I say instead of answering her question.

"Uhm?"

"You know what a friend of mine is a carpenter I think he knows how to fix this." I say and pull my phone out of my pocket.

"Y/N, it is 1am I don't think he will like it if you call him now."

I put my phone back into my pocket and look at her.

"I think you should go home and sleep till you're sober." Mala says "I can drive you home."

"You are so smart." I step closer, how can someone actually be so smart? I mean she is studying....something. I know she is studying something you have to be very smart for. But right now I cant remember its name.

"There is so much knowledge inside your beautiful head." I say, pressing one finger against her forehead.

"And your skin is so soft." I feel the need to touch her cheek.

"Yeah you defiantly are druck, come on let's get you home." she says laughing and wraps one arm around me, trying to get me to walk towards the exit.

"Wait." I say and grab her by her jacket, pulling her against me.

Her warmth surrounds me and I feel like I could pass out just from that feeling.

"Mala."

"Yes?" her voice is so soft, like she is an angel.

"I really want to kiss you." I say, looking at her lips for some seconds before I look up into her eyes.

"That's because you're drunk." she says but not letting go of me.

"No! I mean yes...I say that because I am drunk but I want to kiss you even when I am sober."

"You-"

"I am in love with you, Mala."

A small smile curls up on her lips and she softly grabs my chin.

"If you really mean that, then say it again when you are sober." she says, stepping back.

"But don't play with my feelings Y/N."

I slowly nod, suddenly feeling really tiered.

"Let's get you home." she says and I follow her down the hall, we say goodbye to Magda and Pernille and some other people and I see Magda whispering something to Mala while looking at me but I cant hear what they are saying.

Mala drives me home and waits outside until I am inside my apartment.

---

We have two final training sessions before everyone is going on their summer vacations and as usual I am one of the last ones to be there.

Malas place in the locker room is directly opposite to mine and normally we talk a little while getting chanced and she helps me doing my hair.

But today is different.

Yesterday morning I woke up with my head feeling like it had doubled in size but unfortunately I could remember everything that had happened.

And I feel like she also did.

The training is good but it feels different without Mala talking to me and making jokes all the time.

At the final training it is the same and I definitely know that I don't want to go into summer brake like that.

I try to be the last one to go into the locker room but she is already waiting outside as I get there.

"We should talk." she says and I nod.

"Yeah."

I follow her around the corner so we won't get interrupted by any of the other players.

"I don't know how much you remember of the party night but-"

"I remember everything." I interrupt her, leaning against the wall.

"And I am sorry for telling you that but..." I look at the floor, I could just deny it, deny my feelings, deny the fact that I didn't say all of that because I was drunk.

"I...I cant tell you that it was because of the alcohol, because .... because it is true. Everything I said." I say and look up.

I am surprised by the way she looks back at me, not mad or hurt but with a small smile on her lips. Her beautiful lips.

She steps closer.

"What is true?" she asks.

"That I am in love with you and that I want to kiss you."

"And what did I say after you told me that?"

"To tell you that again when I am sober?" I ask, confused about her reaction.

"No after that."

"To not play with your feelings." I repeat her words, realizing that I completely forgot about that till now.

"Because I cant have you telling me, that you like me back and not meaning it." she explains, taking another step towards me, my body now trapped between her and the wall.

"You...you like me too?" I ask, but scared of what she would say I look down at our shoes.

"How could I not like you." she whispers in the space between us. And like she did at the weeding, she grabs my chin and softly pushes it up.

She leans forwards, searching in my eyes for the permission to do it.

I close my eyes, waiting for her lips to meet mine. And they do.

Her lips feel so soft against mine. She tastes a little like Powerade, lip balm and her.

I can't believe I am kissing her.

As we brake apart, a big smile forms on my lips.

I open my mouth to say something but someone else is faster than me.

"Wow."

We look to the side and I feel one of Malas arms around me like she wants to protect me from anything that could happen now.

At the end of the hallway, there are standing Magda and Pernille, both ready to go home.

"Soon enough." Magda says, coming towards us, followed by her wife.

I just look at them, to stunned to speak.

"Magda." Pernille says in a warning tone.

"What?" She says laughing "You also knew about this."

"You...what?" I ask.

"I told them about my feelings." Mala says and looks at me. So that was what they were talking about at the weeding.

"Well, weddings make lovers." Magda says and smiles at us like a proud mom.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #fc bayern frauen #lgbtq #mala grohs x reader #mala grohs #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson #sydney lohmann

[euseokz]

can you write friends to lovers smut for anton where they have crazy sexual tension pls🙏🏼💗

@ anton — we both want each other, why can’t we just let things go with the flow ? . cws : unprotected sex. creampie . slight size kink . big dick anton . wc : 2.0k+ . genre : smut

a/n : i hope this aligns with what you wanted nonnie ! somehow i always find myself only writing best-friend! anton whenever i write for him, and for some reason, i love it ! i just think he fits this trope so well 😮‍💨

BEST-FRIEND! ANTON who you’ve always shared some sort of sexual tension with, but that neither of you has ever acted on because you have always been afraid of what would happen if you did.

you knew it all. knew how he looked at you, how he’d look you up and down when you got more dressed up and get that little smirk on his lips, how he liked having a hand on your waist when you were in public not only in a protective way, but also because he liked to touch you, liked when people thought you were his. you knew when he was horny too, how his eyes would turn darker and his lips would twist into a sort of cocky smile, and you also knew what made him horny, what words you used and what touches you left on him that made him want to fuck you.

anton also knew all about you, you had each other all figured out, and still, somehow, had never fucked, because you were still afraid due to all the what if’s. what if that ended your friendship? what if one wanted something casual but the other wanted a proper relationship? what if having sex would completely ruin your dynamic and make things awkward? there were just too many possibilities, so you never acted on it — until it finally got to be too much and you did.

you had gone over to anton’s apartment, his roommates loudly talking about something in the next room while you two laid on his bed, close to each other but not as close as you actually wanted to be, having a conversation about whatever came up. you could feel anton’s gaze on you, almost burning into your skin. you had borrowed some clothes from him, a hoodie and a pair of shorts, something about wanting a more comfy outfit to wear instead of the one you had worn all day, and it was driving him insane. anton’s eyes couldn’t leave you, obsessed with how good his clothes looked on you, with how his already baggy hoodie looked baggier on your body, and how his shorts that usually ran just around his knees went down lower on you. you looked so good in his clothes it made him completely lose his mind, getting to a point where he was barely even listening and processing what you were saying and just ogling you. it should be uncomfortable, but somehow it also turned you on, knowing the sight of you was too much for him, that he couldn’t focus on anything but you.

maybe if you hadn’t burrowed his clothes things wouldn’t have developed the way they did, or maybe they would but it would’ve just taken a bit longer, but once you caught anton’s eyes stuck on your body for the nth time you decided you had enough, tired of being cautious and simply deciding that enough was enough, that you needed to be bold, which was what led you to blurt out the next words that came out of your mouth as if they were nothing.

“you should just fuck me if you’re gonna continue looking at me like that”

it took a moment for anton to register your words. was he hallucinating? was that the next stage of the level of horniness he was experiencing? he didn’t know, so he looked at you, a surprised but confused look spread across his features. you repeated the question, and this time he knew it was real, that he wasn’t hearing or imagining things, you had actually told him he should fuck you. his immediate response was to jump on you, but he held himself back, only turning more towards you instead, now being on his side while you still laid back against his pillows, asking you through an all too shy tone if you were sure, his shyness ridiculous taking into account his actions up until that point.

“i wouldn’t propose it if i wasn’t” you replied, a smug smile on your lips, and that was when anton finally let his instincts win and jumped on you, kissing you harder than he had ever kissed someone, cupping your cheeks in his hands with so much strength it made you wonder if he was afraid you’d slip away or vanish into thin air. his lips felt good against yours, the way he sucked on your bottom lip making you mewl against him, a small smirk curling the corners of anton’s mouth because of it. he wanted you to be as into it as him, wanted you to want him to fuck you as much as he did, so he moved on top of you, both hands still cupping your cheeks while one of his knees moved to separate your legs, pressing against your covered middle softly, just hard enough to elicit another small moan to slip past your lips and into his. he started moving it, drawing it in small circles and making sure to start pressing more and more into you, until you were whimpering against him relentlessly, wordlessly begging for more until you finally spoke up, your voice much whinier this time as you told him to just fuck you — and because anton wasn’t one to ever deny you anything, he did, not much time separating the last kiss you shared and the moment you finally found yourselves naked and with him pushing himself into you for the first time.

your pussy was absolutely soaked by then, all thanks to anton’s continuous teasing, making the job of thrusting into you somewhat easier, even if you still struggled a bit to take him fully. anton swore he would cum as soon as he bottomed out solely based on the wondrous feeling of your pussy clenching around him as he dragged his cock languidly into you, getting lost in how you wrapped around him so well, so tightly, a warm feeling surrounding his length, making his brain grow fuzzy with pleasure.

you just looked too good underneath him. your face was twisted into an expression of pure pleasure, brows furrowed and lips parted in a perfect “o” shape, moaning as he started to slowly pull out, giving you time to adjust. you felt as if anton was splitting you open, his cock so thick it barely fit inside you, stretching you out as much as you could take while still feeling good, the initial weird uncomfortableness eventually passing by as he kept moving, keeping his pace slow and steady, wanting to give you time to adjust, being patient because the last thing he wanted was to accidentally hurt you. your pussy looked so good taking him though, swallowing him and wrapping around him so snuggly, making anton wince in pleasure. both your gazes were focused on it, on how your cunt was taking him, each thrust making anton’s cock glisten more with your slick, the visible veins running up and down his length throbbing in anticipation for the moment he would be able to start fucking you properly.

in an attempt to help relax you even more, anton leaned down for another kiss, his hair falling over his eyes as he pressed his lips against yours. this kiss is softer, sweeter, just as needy as the ones you shared previously but not as fast paced. anton wanted to treasure the moment, live it to the fullest and have every second of it imprinted in his brain, afraid of ever forgetting the first time he ever truly had you in his arms. he held you closer, still kissing you, sucking on your tongue while slightly speeding up his thrusts, testing how well you’d take it — and as expected, you excelled, moaning into the kiss and clamping down around him harder, eventually breaking apart from him, wanting to scream anton’s name but suddenly remembering his roommates were still in the room next door, so you couldn’t. instead though, you pressed your forehead against his, closing your eyes and whimpering about good it felt, about how good his big dick felt stretching you out, fucking you so well, better than anyone ever had. your words affected anton, making him moan, rolling his eyes back in pleasure while changing his posture, hoisting himself higher by placing his hands by either side of your head, picking up his pace and moving more swiftly, by now already able to build up a quicker pace with how well your pussy was taking him.

“you drive me crazy, you know that, right?” he asked, eyes locked on yours, his tone more unstable than usual. you nodded, your expression flustered as you brought him back to you, wrapping both arms around his neck and lacing both of your legs around his waist, holding him in place, wanting to feel anton’s wide frame pressed against yours, his weight on top of you comforting in a way. he also embraced you, reaching behind you and hugging you close, his hands interlocking it’s fingers behind your head and holding you up so your face was close to his, forcing you to maintain the eye contact as he continued fucking you, moving faster, more precisely, reaching deep inside you with his cock, his tip kissing your cervix softly with every thrust. anton felt like he was in heaven — you both did, so lost in each other that nothing else mattered, only able to focus on looking at one another and feeling how good you both made each other feel. it was all too much, too intense, so when anton blurted out his next words without even thinking twice, neither of you reacted as if they were odd for him to say.

“i love you” he told you, his tone sincere and his voice steadier this time, as if he was determined to say it in a way that would let you know he was being truthful. you only kissed him, pressing your lips against this desperately and bringing him as close to you as humanly possible, pulling away for a second just to say those three words back to him, your voice whinier than his, but still just as honest.

anton’s thrusts continued steady, dragging in and out of you deliciously, reaching that sweet spot inside you that made an invisible knot start forming in your lower stomach, growing tighter, ready to snap at any moment. you were both close, so through his low groans, with his lips still pressed closed to yours, anton asked if he could cum inside, if he could fill you up with his cum, and you, in your hazy state, said yes, asking for it, his thrusts growing rougher for a second until you were both reaching your orgasms. anton’s came first, his thrusts starting to get sloppier but not completely losing their pace as he kept going while his cock twitched inside you, shooting creamy strings of warm cum inside you, painting your insides white — that feeling being exactly what finally ignited your own high, one loud moan leaving your lips when it hit before anton was pulling you in for yet another kiss, trying to silence you as you both reveled in your own pleasures, whining into one another as he started slowing down, eventually finally coming to a halt with his dick still buried deep inside you. you both felt at cloud nine, beginning to come back to your senses and finally realizing what you had admitted to in the middle of your sex-induced, foggy states, pleasure having clouded your thoughts throughout the whole thing and making you bolder than usual apparently.

“did you mean it?” anton began, his voice soft as he pressed his forehead to you, both your eyes closed while you still held each other close. “when you said you loved me?”

you hummed in agreement, deciding to be honest, nervous when you asked if he did too. anton replied that yes, he did, both of you smiling at that moment, giggling before sharing another kiss, this one more intimate, as if you were making a promise to each other to stop avoiding your feelings, and to finally lean into them, to let yourselves be together like you had been wanting for so long.

#! . . 📝 #anton lee #anton #lee chanyoung #riize #riize anton #anton smut #anton lee smut #riize smut #lee chanyoung smut #anton x reader #anton x y/n #anton x you #riize x reader #riize x you #riize x y/n #riize anton smut #anton imagines #anton scenarios #anton drabbles #anton hard hours #anton fanfic #anton fic #riize imagines #riize scenarios #riize hard hours #riize hard thoughts #riize fanfic #riize fics #riize anton x reader

[greensun]

THE BIG QSMPSTUCK LOREDUMP AKA: I finally get to do all the lorebabble I wanted to do.

EDIT (11/1/2023): THIS VERSION IS NOW OUT OF DATE AND DOES NOT INCLUDE THE PEOPLE IN THE ICE CUBES. I AM CURRENTLY REWORKING PARTS OF THIS BUT MOST SHOULD STAY THE SAME FOR THE NEW POSTS SANS BAGHERA, KAMETO, AND DANTDM'S CLASSPECTS! LOOK FORWARD TO UPDATED POSTS IN THE FUTURE.

SOME NOTES: 1. I have a very specific version of qsmpstuck going on with my art I make that I made with a group of friends (thanks Slimercord!) 2. There are other people who made other classpects and takes on QSMP characters that are more character based, mine is not that case, it looks at how QSMP as a whole would work as a full sburb session, and balancing how many people would be on each aspect or class to carry that motif of Homestuck's balancing/equal duality theme. This means I am looking at and using Classpects as a narrative & plot device, not necessarily a personality test like how someone would classpect a real person (This is how the Extended Zodiac works, and why I choose to ignore it for character classpecting. It works great for classpecting real life people though, so by all means you can use the EZ for you and your friends!). 3. AND WITH THAT! It means two people per aspect and and class, with the exception of space and time having three people, and knights and heirs having three people. 4. FAIR WARNING: IF YOU HAVE NEVER READ HOMESTUCK, THERE IS LOTS OF DEATH IN IT, WITH LOTS OF RESURRECTIONS. I WILL BE DISCUSSING DEATH IN A VERY JOKING MANNER HERE! 5. For posterity in case things change in the future: This post was made August 2nd 2023, after the French were added, and right before the Election arc finished. I'm sure if I came back to this after QSMP is over my classpecting would be different. (Updated August 20, 2023)

I'll add this again at the bottom but if you want more of my notes and thought processes or just more qsmpstuck in general here's the link to my tag for all qsmpstuck on this blog, and here's the link to all qsmpstuck on my regular mcyt blog. (my regular blog includes other people's qsmpstuck takes & reblogs however! But every classpect analysis I reblogged in there w/ an anonymous ask sent to the OP was me on anon lol)

HERE WE GO! The big ol google doc sheet I had to make for this. Every note on that godtier order list is how we decided the character would godtier, and we still aren't even technically done! I have so much information built up for this AU I am not sure I could include all of it in this post.

CLASSPECTS

Anyway, in terms of classpects, the way we went about deciding was 1. Finding symbolic meanings we felt fit the characters best 2. If the classpect was funny and had a fun double entendre to the character 3. If we really struggled, we went and picked up Dahni Witch of Light's classpect analyses and found which class fit a character best within an aspect we had a vague idea of. I find Dahni's analyses to be the best at classpecting non-homestuck characters with, because they give enough leeway in interpretation and are somewhat broad, while still applying as a fictional character's story arc, rather than solely a personality test. We also basically ignored most classpect's assigned "role" concept thingy, they were too nebulous in meaning to help much, with the only ones we kept being Sylphs are the passive creation class with Maids as the active creation class, and then Bards are passive destruction, Princes are active destruction.

AND NOW BACK TO THE CUBES YOU CARE ABOUT: As stated before, we did lay it out so we (mostly) only had two per aspect and class, to get that true fan session balancing spirit. Space/time and knight/heir are the only ones with three members. Here's how the outfits look!

My favorites here & their reasonings are: - Etoiles: Sylph of Blood - We all agreed him getting a classpect that is at least somewhat silly would be fitting, but all immediately came to the conclusion that he would hands down be a blood player. From his love of fighting, and the way he goes about befriending everyone he meets to help them, he's just so blood player. To balance out our initial silly classpecting idea, we made him a Sylph! It fits, like, really well! He creates friendship, he helps people, like. What more could you want from a classpect for him. - Mariana: Maid of Doom - I sent these two asks to this other person about this and liked their reasonings lol. - Spreen: Prince of Breath - Look I'm a Spreengirl I think he would play a great active destruction class and he takes away other's freedom (in minecraft). He kills people. He's just so Prince to me. It's really funny. - BBH: Knight of Life - Do you know how funny it is to take a guy who's whole thing is that he's like entirely black and red themed and put him in the burlap sack outfit. Also Knight & Space player frog breeding combo. He's working with Foolish on those frogs. - Foolish: Page of Space - This guy is the ultimate builder of all time ever. He was hands down the easiest to look at and go Oh he is THE space player here. - Fit: Prince of Space - Y'know 2b2t and hacked clients and griefing people? Prince of Space. Plus since he's a space player, soooo - Philza: Knight of Rage - Another great Space & Knight combo. This guy is such a hater on QSMP (positive) he doubts easily distrusts whenever necessary. Such a rage player. - Missa: Bard of Time - Missa is really failgirl I know quite a few people haven't like... watched much of his MC stuff. However you should check out when he had to be placed in a box to fish by himself so he wouldn't die a third time in Minecraft Extremo. He's a perfect Bard, and then he does music. Great set up for a Time player. Wouldn't want it any other way. - Antoine: Seer of Void - truly. Truly. A guy I looked at for two minutes and immediately knew what classpect he needed. That scene where he just like lightly questioned Cellbit after he escaped the federation and it made Cellbit so nervous he started just saying things that made him look way more nervous than necessary? Core Antoine moment for me. The fact he has a basement filled with so much writing on every candidate? The fact he hides his true face so much? We don't even know what's going on there? Void Player. Seer. So fitting it's beautiful to me. - Felps: Maid of Breath - Look, breath is THE aspect of freedom and doing what you want at your own pace. I think I would be committing a cardinal sin if I DIDN'T make Felps a breath player. - Tazercraft: Witch of Doom & Page of Time - They get to do a fucked up glitch timeloop. With these two classpects they can literally do whatever they want forever. Witch of Doom is a classpect that you give to a character if you know they can rip everything to shreds, have fun doing it, but wouldn't (usually) use it to actively hurt people out of true malice (for no reason) (a witch can DEFINITELY respond negatively if push comes to shove). Page of Time is so funny as a classpect also. Just like... Look up what the Page godtier outfit looks like. You'll see what I mean... And why Pac is a page. - Rubius: Waste of Breath - This classpect sounds really mean, sorry. I promise I like Rubius. He's supposed to be a stand in for what the Hussie author insert was in Homestuck, opposing Doc Scratch and fighting him. Hussie was a Waste of Space, I wanted to keep the pun with waste here. Breath worked the best. The federation has a Lord of Blood ability to counter him. Neither of these two count for the main classpect total.

One day I might post a copy of the google sheet and link it for more in-depth reasonings for every character, but like... almost everyone had reasonings like this where we spent waaay too long analyzing everyone LMAO. This is getting long as is, so I'll cut off classpecting here.

DREAMING MOONS

I am about to say something that will make people either really mad or really happy. There is no canon true definition of what assigns you a dreaming moon in Homestuck's text. The only thing we can glean from canon about which moon you get is that Prospit humans make their bed in the morning, and Derse humans don't. Needless to say, this doesn't help when you want to individually give each person a dreaming moon, but it IS great news for me: it makes assigning dreaming moons based on dividing the cast in half really, really easy. That is how it worked for the troll session, it was cut in half with teams, and then assigned based on red team vs blue team. So that is what I did here. All of the English speakers were given Prospit, and all of the Hispanic side were given Derse. This has lore relevance. We'll get back to it in a moment.

Also for note, the Federation is Prospit, with Dersite carapacians being a more nebulous identity against the Federation. Hispanic side was given Derse because they just seem more like Derse guys. Plus the whole Time on Derse/Space on Prospit theme going on in original HS canon is something I kinda wanted to go along with.

Quackity was given dual dreamer, with one of his dreamselves being ElQuackity, hence why he isn't listed. To balance this, we had to make another dual dreamer, and figured handing it to Kameto, who basically is permanently lost in the void, would be a good balance.

The French and Brazilian sessions were assigned using the "well this character would make sense here" method.

Server/Client Orders & Session Chains

If anyone needs a brief refresher, a client is the person you get into a sburb session, and a server is the person gets you into the session. Everyone is a client and a server to someone different. (tl;dr John was Rose's client, Rose was John's Server.) THAT BEING SAID! It means the loop for sessions close once you're all connected to both a client and a server. There are three separate sessions here, and one of them is a mobius double reacharound.

For clarity, the arrows mean: Client <- Server

The Original session, the mobius double reacharound, is the Spanish-English session. The order is

Quackity <- Mariana <- Spreen <- Roier <- Missa <- Vegetta <- Maxo <- Luzu (<- BBH)

BBH <- Foolish <- Slimecicle <- Jaiden <- DanTDM <- Fit <- Philza <- Wilbur (<- Quackity)

Because of the nature of a Mobius Double Reacharound, it means BBH and Quackity enter the session first, by technicality. The first person in a session is also the person who does the ectobiology. Unlike the troll session which only had Karkat as the ectobiologist, if Q!Quackity were the sole ectobiologist, no clones would be made and everyone would be stuck in a paradox, so I think it's funnier if BBH and Q had to work together on Ectobiology. I find their dynamic hilarious. Anyway, Luzu and Wilbur had to be the last in their respective chains, because no one else would be able to enter.

The next chain is the Brazilian closed Session, which is

Forever <- Mike <- Pac <- Felps <- Cellbit (<- Forever)

As previously mentioned, Pac e Mike (uou uou) have very good classpects to make up for the fact they have no space player. I'll come back to this.

The final chain is the French closed session. It goes

Baghera <- Antoine <- Etoiles <- AyPierre <- Kameto (<- Baghera)

They have balanced moons! They have a space player! They have a seer even! Both light and void! However, in missing a time player, they are forever doomed to fail the session.

LANDS OF PLANETS AND PARTNERS

Now I can finally explain actual lore. My apologies for making you read about 1000 words before this.

The Hispanic-English session is glitched. There is not a planet for each person. They have to share planets with a person from the opposite dreaming moon, generating lands that are a combination of two different aspects entirely. The planetary pairings for this prime session are the same pairings used for the initial egg pairings.

I really love designing lands for Sburb AUs it's my favorite thing in the world. The first one is the Land of Acid and Alcohol, Slimecicle (Heir of Heart) and Mariana's (Maid of Doom) land. Its oceans are acid and gasoline, and then covered in bottles that are a Russian roulette of alcoholic beverages, and then Molotov cocktails! The second is the Land of Steam and Dreams, Roier (Witch of Blood) and Jaiden's (Seer of Hope) land. It's filled with buildings built in an industrial revolution style architecture, playing on how people could believe in social mobility and "making it" in that time period, while also being reliant on heavy metallic machinery! I have a lot of fun conceptualizing lands.

The session's glitches don't stop at the planetary pairings on their own however, and it continues when Luzu attempts to enter the session. The session glitches from him being BBH's client, where it refuses to match pairings if they're connected directly, as the game would be unable to generate the gates above each player's house, it would simply loop back to connecting with the same Land. Luzu ends up being paired onto Quackity's land because of this, because the Game still detects him as having a dreamself on the opposite moon, even if he technically has both.

This causes BBH and Wilbur's land to glitch, and they end up paired together (as a bit of a nod back to how BBH and Wilbur were initially intended to be paired, before admins just made a new egg for Wilbur). We'll get back to this in a bit.

Some other lands from the AH session I enjoy are - The Land of Lush Forests and Iridescent Lakes, also known as LOLFAIL, BBH and Wilbur's land, which is a double Life player land, so the oceans are filled with gemstones and the land is covered in the most dense forest imaginable. It has the most difficult underlings spawn on it compared to any other land in the Anglo-Hispanic session. - The Land of Frogs and Typhoons, Spreen and Fit's land, which every space player is guaranteed frogs as part of their land, combined with Spreen being a breath player, it is a constant hurricane with frogs in it. They do not work on trying to calm the storm. They just start killing the frogs. There are so many frogs. The frogs are constantly flying at anyone who enters the land. Fit's slogan is FTF. Thank you to crow qsmp-yaoi for saying this idea because it truly brings me to tears every time I think about them being hit by those frogs flying at Mach 10. - The Land of Synapses and Static, Maxo and DanTDM's land. It's a darkened land, caused by Maxo's void, and then covered in a blanket of constant fog so thick a lighthouse can barely cut through it. The land also has mimicking noises to make familiar sounds to any player that steps on it, caused by Dan's Mind. It is an overbearingly lonely land. One where you understand what it truly feels like to be alone. One where you can lose someone as soon as you take your eyes off of them. Maxo last saw Dan on this land. No one else has seen him since.

I'm going to stop myself here, but I might come back and draw some more Land illustrations for these, haha.

Denizeggs

With the planetary partners, you might have seen this coming. Each planet in the combined session is missing a Denizen. Instead, what each player finds at the heart of the land is a little egg they need to help raise. They all find eggs at different points, however. Some people find their egg before they godtier, some find them afterward.

All of the eggs correspond to the land of their respective parents, however Luzu joins into the session too late to ever meet Tilin, second to last of the chain, she's already dead by that point.

And then the final major glitch in starting this session, when Wilbur joins as the final member of the chain, and enters, the only land open is BBH's land. Due to the nature of Sburb already knowing how things would end, it was always going to be this way, and there was no other option on who's planet he would join. The game glitches again, and detecting a second Prospit player, spawns in a new Denizen: Tallulah.

The eggs generally follow how they were in QSMP proper. Some of them die early. Some of them don't. Juanaflippa is as tragic as she is in canon. Two dads who are just bad at raising a child and it would have never worked out. Slime still kills Tilin by accident. Spreen doesn't care about Ramon, ditched him etc you know how it goes. The eggs are partially a planet quest too, so it's best if the eggs do live here.

Also in the glitches with this, there's a lack of consorts on any of the combined planets. There are a few, but not really as common as canon proper would have.

BRAZIL! 🇧🇷

The Brazil Session is a closed session between the five Brazilians. One of the requirements to complete Sburb is that you need a Space player (required to have forge in order to complete the final genesis frog & launch it into creating a new universe) and a Time player (required to keep the session in the proper timeline). The Brazilians have a time player (Pac), so they're halfway there!

There's some hiccups along the way. Mostly just Cellbit accidentally killing Felps and having to sprite him so Mike could make him a robot body to live in, but same old same old etc. Pac and Mike also kill each other by accident, but some other stuff happens there.

They still don't have the main aspect to actually continue the session, realize this, and also have a guy with one of the most conceptually powerful classpects to exist in terms of being able to glitch a game and save everyone. They manage to contact the primary session, reaching out to two grieving parents who are desperate to do anything to revive their daughter, one of whom is also a very powerful Doom player.

Brazilian Lands (brief edition)! - Land of Vultures and Culture, Forever's land, is a Hope land based around having Forever work to help save consorts who are hiding beneath intense structures and live in very isolate communities from each other. There's also massive megafauna in the skies that are always trying to kill them. - Land of Electronics and Experiments, Mike's land, is a pretty typical doom land, based around Chume labs, and has a constant lightning storm overhead - Land of Dancefloors and Dollhouses, Pac's land, is a combination of a land quest he has to get through, and a typical time land. All time lands have a clockwork or a music theme, I think him having a hot pink land that's massive amounts of dollhouse rooms attached to each other he has to make it through is just a fun concept. - Land of Cloud and Sky, Felps's world, is just a land with everything high in the sky. His whole quest is about him harnessing his ability to go with the flow to connect his consorts together. This is hard when he's sprited himself after dying upon entering due to Cellbit fucking up and accidentally killing him, and living in a robot body built by Mike. Aradia style. - Land of Searchlight and Bone, Cellbit's world, is a giant panopticon style prison. With so many bones, both decorating the prison, and filling the prison cells. His final moment is when he gets to the office of the panopticon, and it is his quest bed. He has a whole ordeal over it.

RICARLYSON! So these guys have regular consorts and Denizens, Richarlyson spawns in the heart of Skaia, and gives the quest for the other five guys to raise him.

Pac (Page of Time) has the ability to manipulate time as he wants once he realizes his abilities. Mike (Witch of Doom) can rip a hole in the universe so big it saves all of the players and sets them smack in the middle of another session, especially a previously contacted session with the connection being a Maid of Doom. With a time player land as well, they get a scratch construct on the Land of Dancefloors and Dollhouses, setting up their ability to scratch their session and set loose a whole new universe where theirs once stood.

French

The French session has probably the most normal planets of everything going on here, what really starts their journey going awry is that they have no time player.

Antoine, being a Seer of Void, can see something is going wrong. He makes contact with people outside of their session in an attempt to restore things to balance. He goes off into the veil and contacts the horrorterrors, and sets up a connection between two Doom players who seem they both desperately need it.

While he's doing that, the rest of the French proceed to have the most normal Sburb session out of anyone. Etoiles is having a great time on his planet. Aypierre gets a genesis tadpole. Kameto has two backup lives.

French Planets (Brief Edition) - Land of Apples and Airplanes, Baghera's land! It's probably the nicest land of anyone's. There are many jokes about how she doesn't get why everyone keeps complaining about their lands being horrible until she reaches theirs. - Land of Sham and Soil, Antoine's land, it's a dark land with tall dirt towers that make it impossible to see where you step. You'd need to be someone who could find where you're going in the pitch dark to even survive here. - Land of Bonds and Breakouts, Etoiles's land, is a land of a giant maze dungeon labyrinth. It's a nightmare for everyone but him. He loves it. - Land of Bogs and Frogs, AyPierre's land, is a land with frogs in a very thick swamp. I'll be honest i Just need to cook on this one some more. - Land of Hidden Leaves and War, Kameto's land, is a Naruto joke.

POMME! Is like Richas she's in the middle of Skaia. An easter egg if you will.

The French session is brought into the primary session when Antoine manages to contact with everyone else fully, rather than quietly watch from the outside. Etoiles and Baghera lose their original selves, and are their dreamselves when the universes collide in, and were unable to godtier, due to not knowing about the quest slabs.

GODTIERING! & the rest of the chronological story

THIS is the order of the godtiers from the beginning of the Spanish-English session. Anyone in the other sessions who godtier before their universe collide event has a red numeral to keep them distinct. I feel pretty strongly almost everyone would godtier here, they're all characters based on gamers. Sburb au works exceptionally well when you know everyone's gaming style.

Also, yeah I have notes listed on each godtier order for how each person dies. Like it's that detailed atp.

Spreen has the highest kill count out of everyone on purpose. I think he'd be down to cut his friends down knowing they'd be revived immortal afterward. As well as, the federation is Prospit in this scenario, they want everyone to godtier. I think him playing to what they want out of him feels his style. Anyway, he sprites his own dreamself due to ElQuackity messing with timeloops. To make his living player self trust him, Spreensprite convinces him to godtier Roier first. It is himself he's talking to, after all. Roier becomes the first godtier in any universe, and not out of his own volition. After seeing it really did work with Roier, Spreen godtiers himself. He gets li'l bear ears ala Jade getting doggy ears with her dreamself sprited, he threw in a Rubius cubito to his kernelsprite first. I like the bear ears I'm biased .3. q!Spreen being really fun in a Sburb concept is why I got hooked on this au after all.

After the first lore is repeated, BBH godtiers himself by decapitating himself with a sendificator to fuck with Foolish. He's kinda bitter about getting beige clothes. He befriends the midnight crew at least. This is before he has Dapper. He finds out about godtiering from Roier by accident and then is like. Oh I have the BEST idea.

Vegetta is killed by Spreen by request, wanting to be stronger to protect Leo, and then Spreen godtiers Missa in order to use his time powers on Derse to throw his dreamself at the kernelsprite, locking the time loop. Anyway, Missa is essentially locked in a tower on Derse's moon after this, now permanently in his Dreamself's body, who hadn't awoken prior. Fit realizes people are walking around in weird clothes, hears about it vaguely from BBH, sends a text to Spreen who'd been ghosting him, and goes like. Hey man. Wanna kill me? And gets his first reply in months.

Phil is attacked by an overpowered monster and almost dies, and Missa manages to get the message to Fit that this is happening through time shenanigans, and Fit manages to get him to his questbed before he fully dies and loses his dreamself. Phil is not happy about this and could not be angrier. He doesn't blame Fit though it's like a self anger thing.

THE BRAZILIAN CASCADE HAPPENS! PEOPLE DIE. By which I mean Slimecicle and Mariana work together to try to help the Brazilians into the session in a bid at saving Juanaflippa, hoping one of them have the ability to revive her. Slimecicle is murdered in the crypts of Prospit by Quackity in a duel, where he cuts off Quackity's arm in exchange for Quackity cutting down his life. Truly one of those luck moments where Charlie dies on his questslab. Mariana is murdered at the same time by Spreen, who is now fully working under orders from the Federation.

Pre-cascade, Pac and Mike both godtier, because they stumble into a stable timeloop, by Mike accidentally glitching Pac's questslab into throwing it at him and killing him. He godtiers with this. Now, as a fully godtiered page of time, they make it to Mike's questbed, and godtier!Mike nudges Pac's slab at Past!Mike to pick up and throw when fucking around with powers.

Felps godtiers in the cascade along with Mariana and Slimecicle, they leave behind Derse and its moon, and they both get destroyed. Where his body sleeping on the quest slab godtiers. Aradia style. Except... as a Maid of Breath, his robot sprite body doesn't explode. He just sort of... exists in both. When one falls asleep the other wakes up. The rest of the Brazilian session just assumes the Cascade fucked with his robot body's energy sources. He kind of just figures each side is a weird dream he keeps having.

Cellbit is staunchly anti-godtier, while Forever wants someone he trusts to godtier him. Cellbit refuses to godtier Forever, and causes a major fight between them. Then Spreen murders Cellbit into his godtier under orders from the Federation, which is preceded by a long Scooby-doo-esque chase, where BBH sees them both, and decides to follow. BBH is a fully godtiered Knight of Life here, he has resurrection powers for other players, and Spreen is functionally immortal as well. BBH 100% catches up to him after he kills Cellbit, and proceeds to put Spreen in a torment nexus of dying and undeath. Thus ends the Killing Spree(n).

AND THEN THE FRENCH CASCADE HAPPENS! The final session connects, and Baghera sacrifices herself to make it happen. After they make it in, they learn about Quest slabs, and there's a whole thing with Etoiles dramatically getting her to her questslab before she fully dies. Etoiles then proceeds to go kill himself on the questslab immediately after. Felps is also hanging out with the French, they found him hanging out in the void and take him with them. They lose Kameto in the void however, nobody's really sure where he went.

Pre-French Cascade, Antoine is the only French player to godtier, and no one will explain how it happened. It seems like no one really knows, but Etoiles keeps saying more fantastical descriptions every time someone asks. He's never taken his seer hood off of his face.

Back in the order of the godtiers, Forever befriends Baghera, and eventually her and Etoiles and Cellbit help him godtier. It's a whole event. Richas is having a blast.

Bobby dies, and Jaiden decides to godtier in order to get into the Federation's good graces, as well as out of guilt of feeling that if she were stronger and godtiered she could have saved him. Roier godtiers her.

AyPierre is godtiered in a tragic accident with one of his many machines. Etoiles helps pull him to his quest bed. He's a Thief of Space he has fun with it.

Foolish is the second to last person to godtier, and he is godtiered by Pomme by accident. He wanted his godtier to be as cool as possible, and somehow managed to not godtier by this point. It's just very him. He's down with the page pants.

Quackity is the final member to godtier. BBH kills ElQ at one end of the universe with the aid of Maximus. Slimecicle kills the regular QQ in one final duel.

At the end of the universe, the only people left alive and able to contact the rest of the sessions to never godtier are Wilbur and Maxo.

DanTDM disappears on the Land of Synapses and Static, never to be seen again, along with Turnip following soon after.

Luzu finds a glitch and is absorbed by it not long after he enters.

Nobody is really sure if Kameto godtiered or not.

MISCELLANEOUS NOTES

We're currently working on figuring out sprites for everyone, so hey! I might come back and add an update on that, but this post is so long my computer is lagging. I have a gaming laptop. It shouldn't be doing that. Here's some stuff on the sprites we do have + some misc notes.

Cellbit's flashlightkind is like how Kanaya's lipstick works. It's a chainsaw.

Spreen has Spreensprite, BBH has Skeppysprite, Missa has a sprite that is a mysterious skull sprited twice called Skullskullsprite, and Roier has his dog with a spiderman called Dogmansprite, and Jaiden has Arisprite, who's Miku & Ari combined :D (thanks icarus!)

It is 5 am as I finish typing this and queue it. I think I started typing this at 5 pm yesterday. Feel free to comment any thoughts you have or play around in this au! Also feel free to @ me if you do, either on my main mcyt blog (@etoilesbienne), or here!

qsmpstuck tag on my art blog / qsmpstuck tag on my regular mcyt talk blog

#qsmp #qsmpstuck #qsmp au #qsmp homestuck au #mcytstuck

[nortism]

What the Ghosts have been watching on TV

Everyone

Channel 4 Home renovation shows: They're free with ads and there's an infinite amount of them so Alison puts them on for the whole gang when she and Mike have work to do in same way people put on YouTube videos for their dogs. This has backfired slightly as all the ghosts now have very strong and conflicting opinions on how Button House should be renovated.

The Great British Bake-off: A whole family event, they all get very invested. Kitty thinks Alison Hammond is the funniest person in the world. The Captain feels normal about Noel Fielding. As well as a watching it live, I'm sure they've also watched the whole back catalogue together.

Mama Mia: This where the Captain learnt his ABBA songs from. Pat and Julian enjoy the nostalgic music and I think the others are just bewitched by the story and music

Robin

Anything David Attenborough: For obvious reasons. I think he'd get a kick out of trying to do his voice. The others sometimes join in.

Cunk on Earth/ Britain: I think they've got a similar attitude towards history and I think he'd find serious historians trying to answer silly questions incredibly funny

Horrible Histories: He watches this with Kitty, they both find poop jokes funny.

Humphrey

Antiques Roadshow: I'm not sure why. I honestly think he's just glad to watch anything.

Mary

Gardener's World: I think she misses being able to look after plants and I think she'd be endlessly fascinated by how hosepipes work.

Mio Mao: She loves them fucking plasticine cats. She will not stop singing the theme song

Honestly think she'll watch anything with anyone and would get invested, she seems like the ideal person to watch telly with.

Kitty

Ru Paul's Drag Race: I think they all watch this every so often but Kitty is invested. There's bright colours, fun outfits and drama, it's definitely Alison's go to when she needs Kitty distracted.

90s and 2000s romcoms: I believe that every couple of weeks Alison and Kitty have a "girl's night" where they watch all the romcoms that Alison used to watch with her mum, mostly because I love watching romcoms with my mum and Kitty deserves that. Kitty is particularly fond of Twilight.

Thomas:

Any Jane Austen adaptations: He watches them with Fanny as they were both big fans when they were alive (its the only thing they agree on). Kitty also joins sometimes. His favourite is the 1995 Pride and Prejudice tv show.

Fanny:

Grey's Anatomy: I haven't seen it but my mum's a big fan and there's millions of seasons, I think she'd pretend she's not that into it but she definitely is.

Call the Midwife: Same as above.

The Captain:

M*A*S*H: I've seen about half an episode of this but it seems to be about fit young men in a war so it sounds like his thing. Probably Pat's recommendation.

Our Flag Means Death: I think Alison has been trying to sneakily show Cap gay media under the pretence of saying "it's just a fun show about pirates". I think the whole gang watched it together. The Captain definitely didn't cry at the end of season 1 why would think that?

Pat

Taskmaster: I think this is one they all watch together but it's definitely one of Pat's favourites. He probably attempted to set up his own version of the show with the ghost which ended horribly.

Doctor Who: I think he watched the original run when he was alive and was absolutely ecstatic to find out they made more. Julian makes fun of him for it.

Julian

Have I Got News For You: Has been airing since 1990 so he definitely watched it while he was alive. I think he likes to keep up with current politics but not in a very serious way so this is his middle ground.

Succession: I haven't seen this show but it seems to be about horrible men in suits being horrible to each other which seems right up his alley.

The Thick of It: Speaking of horrible men in suits being horrible. I think he watches this with Robin who has absolutely no idea what's going on but just laughs when Julian does and they have the best time. Julian is constantly pausing to add his own anecdotes

What We Do In The Shadows: Alison put this on as a 'let's show the Captain it's ok to be gay' show and the Captain was immediately horrified so Julian adopted it. He identifies with Lazlo.

#bbc ghosts #ghosts bbc #bbc ghosts headcanon #robin ghosts #robin bbc ghosts #humphrey ghosts #humphrey bone #mary bbc ghosts #mary ghosts #kitty bbc ghosts #kitty higham #thomas thorne #thomas bbc ghosts #fanny button #fanny bbc ghosts #the captain #the captain bbc ghosts #pat butcher #pat bbc ghosts #julian fawcett #julian bbc ghosts #mine

[woso-fan13]

Comfortember 2023: 26 (Barca)

26. Friends

You had been hesitant to accept the dinner invitation that Lucy and Kiera had forced upon you at practice. You knew that they could tell that something was off, but you were fine. You didn’t need your coworkers butting into your personal life. 

On the other hand, the invitation promised a warm meal and a comfortable location, so you couldn’t think of a good enough reason not to go. With slight hesitancy, you accept the invitation. 

The two older women quickly become excited, insisting that you simply ride home with them. You couldn’t argue with them, they knew you weren’t old enough to drive yourself and this solution made sense. Plus, they promised to drop you off at home after, so you would be spared from the mile and a half walk home from the stadium. 

—-

You find both your excitement and dread growing as practice continues, finally finding yourself showered and changed into comfortable clothes. If you had known, you would have put more effort into your outfit. 

Once all three of you are ready, the two lead you out to the car. You slot yourself into the backseat easily and light conversation fills the air as you leave. 

Lucy pulls the car up in front of a sweet little house, somehow the perfect combination of the two women. It seems like a paradise for the women, and you’re afraid to break the serenity by entering. You don’t have much choice, though, as Lucy eagerly shows you inside. 

You pause in the doorway, training bag still in your hand. You feel so out of place in this loving home, you’re not sure what you’re supposed to do. What you want to do is turn around and run out the door, but that probably isn’t the best option. You’ll keep it as a backup plan, though. 

“C’mon, kid,” Lucy’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts, “just drop your stuff anywhere, no worries. Kiera’s gonna put the takeaway order in while I give you a tour.”

You nod in response, looking around the entry before settling your bag into the corner. It looked how you felt- grossly out of place. You didn’t have time to ponder this too much, as a firm hand on your shoulder guided you through to the living room

Lucy’s tour was thorough- to say the least.  You didn’t see why it was necessary for you to see every room of the house, but Lucy was animated and you were soaking in every small detail of how much this house encapsulated the way Lucy and Kiera melded perfectly. 

You ended back in the living room just as Kiera wandered in from the kitchen. She informs the two of you that dinner had been ordered and would be about an hour before suggesting that you watch a football match. You agree, eager to stop the awkward silence that had started creeping in. 

Lucy is more hesitant to agree, shifting slightly. You see the two women make eye contact, Kiera aggressively nodding to the tv set before Lucy agrees. The two settle on the sofa while you choose the chair. 

You mindlessly watch the match, already knowing the outcome from when you had watched it previously. You can tell the other two aren’t fully paying attention, as they are constantly looking at each other and whispering. 

“Oh, look at that,” Lucy grabs your attention, “do you see that sponsor in the background, for the boots? I completely forgot that they sent me a pair, but they don’t fit. Maybe you can try them on.”

Her acting is atrocious, honestly. Still, you’ve heard great things about this brand and you would love to see the boots. You agree to see them, opening the box and gently unfolding the paper. Your fingers run across the laces, moving to feel the logo. 

“Try them on,” Kiera encourages you, “they won’t fit either of us. Maybe someone can get some use out of them.”

They fit perfectly. Still, though, you don’t feel that you can take them. Kiera eventually has enough of your protesting, taking the shoes back from you. She exits the room, unzipping your training bag and ungracefully dumping them inside. 

“There, that’s settled. Dinner should be here soon, let’s get the table laid.”

Dinner was a relaxed affair, the food warm as it coats your taste buds. Conversation flows smoothly, carried mostly by Lucy and Kiera as you play with the food on your plate. As the meal progresses, you become more comfortable and join in more on the conversation. 

You help to clean up the kitchen after, an indication that the night is wrapping up. As much as you had not wanted to come, you find yourself not wanting to leave now. 

“It's very dark outside,” Kiera points out, “we can take you home now, but I don’t want to risk anything by driving too late.”

You look outside, where the sun is just barely dipping below the horizon, casting a warm glow. You look back to Kiera. 

“It might be safer for you to spend the night here. We’ve got pajamas you can borrow and you already have all of your things for training tomorrow.”

You feel a smile growing on your face, catching on. 

“I heard it might storm soon,” Lucy chimes in, “that would probably make travel pretty rough.”

The sky is completely clear.

You nod slowly, “I think that staying over might be a good idea, if it’s not too much trouble. Just to be safe.”

Lucy nods, “just to be safe. I'll make sure the guest bedroom is set for you.”

She exits the room, leaving Kiera alone. She walks to stand beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 

“Thanks,” you mumble quietly. 

“Of course,” she responds easily, “what are friends for.”

#womens soccer #reader insert #woso x reader #woso imagines #woso imagine #woso #woso fanfics #woso soccer #woso community #barca #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #fc barca #fc barcelona #lucy bronze #kiera walsh

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Could you do one where the whole band is in the studio and reader is so desperate that she rides axl in front of everyone. Preferably the original line up in the current era please I love you❤🌷

A/n: I may have gone a little crazy with this but that's ok because who doesn't love the whole pretty boy band <3

Warnings: Smut, gang bang, riding, fingering(f receiving), hand jobs, breeding kink, if you think I missed anything please let me know otherwise enjoy :3

Guns N’ Roses was finally back from tour and you couldn’t have been happier to get to be with Axl again. You called everyday while he was away, with the calls often ending in phone sex, but it wasn’t enough.

You knew from the get go with him that you wouldn’t be able to be with him as much as you might have liked to be, it was just part of being with someone in a band. Didn’t mean you didn’t miss him, in more ways than one.

You’d spent the first few days together, as per usual, but one morning you woke up to find him getting ready to leave.

“Hey, babe, where’re you going?” You asked as you walked into the bathroom where he was.

“Going to the studio today.” He answered through a mouthful of toothpaste. You glanced at his reflection in the mirror then back to him.

“Why? You guys just got back from tour.” He spat into the sink and rinsed his mouth.

“Yeah, where I had a lot of time to think of new songs.” He explained. He planted a kiss on your forehead before heading out of the bathroom and to the walk-in closet. “We’re going to a studio to work on the instrumentals of some of them for our next album.” You watched as he sorted through clothes.

“What about me?” You asked, looking up at him with a small pout.

“What about you?” He asked with a chuckle.

“You expect me to just sit here all day?”

“Don’t you do that a lot anyway?” You glared at him, arms crossed over your chest and he gave you a kiss instead of apologising. “It’s only a few hours and then I’ll be home again.” You scoffed. He started changing in front of you, you watched him shamelessly.

“I’m coming with you.” You stated and started picking out your own outfit.

“No you’re not.” He looked at you with a confused expression. “What would you even do?” You shrugged.

“Nothing.” You said as you found an outfit for yourself. “But I want to be with you, so I’m coming.” He stared at you for a moment before deciding that he’s not going to be able to change your mind.

“Fine, be ready in ten minutes or I’m leaving without you.

You finished getting ready, it took longer than ten minutes but you knew he wouldn’t leave without you, and of course he didn’t. He was still waiting in the kitchen on his phone, completely having lost sense of time.

Upon entering the studio you were met with familiar faces all around. Slash was looking down at his Les Paul, Izzy was watching him and strumming along a rhythm to it. Steven and Duff were talking about dogs. At least you assumed so since they were showing each other pictures of dogs.

They all greeted you and Axl when you came in. Axl guided you to the couch and sat next to you, throwing an arm around you and holding you close to his side.

They were all talking about one thing or another, the tour, home life, stuff like that before actually diving into what they came there for which was the next album.

You were bored out of your mind. No one cared when you went on your phone, you didn’t really have much reason to be there anyway other than them asking your opinion on some things, which lyric fit better, whether or not they should add more solos. You enjoyed helping when you could but you were so fucking bored you were losing your mind.

You started reading about Axl, finding smutty fics about him to pass the time. It did help, to a point. After a few minutes of reading all you wanted was to act it out.

You knew he had his phone in his pocket so you texted him, saying how needy you were. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and looked at it, glancing back at you before responding. He told you to go deal with it in the bathroom. You huffed and stayed seated on the couch.

As they kept talking you decided ‘fuck it’ and started pushing the joint in your thumb against your clit through your thin, summer shorts. It wasn’t much but it was some form of friction, friction you were craving.

You kept your eyes on your phone for the most part but when you heard Slash’s low chuckle you had to look up. His glasses covered his eyes so you couldn’t see exactly where he was looking but you could tell he was looking at you, watching you touch yourself. His hand covered his mouth but he was smiling, you could see it in his cheeks. That much was a motivator to keep going.

You spread your legs and reached your hand into your shorts, continuing to touch yourself but this time with a viewer. Slash kept watching, smiling, chuckling to himself.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Slash?” Axl finally asked. His tone wasn’t angry, even though you couldn’t see his face you could hear the way the corners of his mouth were pulled into a smile.

The guitarist shook his head and gestured to you. You quickly closed your legs and hid what you had been doing so when Axl turned to look at you there was nothing to see. Sure enough he asked Slash what you’d been doing.

“Go deal with your girlfriend.” He mumbled, aiming his gaze to the ground. Axl turned around again and took a closer look at you. Your cheeks were flushed, sweat was starting to collect at your hairline and your breathing was heavy.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He came over to you, getting your pants and panties off. You started squirming and reaching for your clothes, not expecting him to undress you in front of his band. “I told you to stay home but no you just had come along, now look at you.” He gestured to your now half-naked body. You still tried to cover yourself but he wouldn’t let you, holding your legs apart as his bandmates gathered around behind him to gawk at your glistening folds.

Axl slapped your thigh. “Get up.” You did as he asked, though still wanting to cover yourself. Axl got his half-hard dick out of his pants and sat down behind you before pulling you down on him, slipping into you with ease given how hot you made yourself prior.

He got your legs onto the couch so you were straddling him, backwards cowgirl style. He wanted you to do all the work, since this was what you wanted in the first place. He also wanted this position so that his friends could see everything, from your pretty little cunt to the faces you made when you came.

“Go on, give us a show.” Duff said, already palming himself through his jeans. Axl patted the space beside him for Duff to come sit. He did and pulled out his hard member for you to jerk. You let out a soft whine and reached for him, starting to bounce yourself on Axl’s cock while stroking Duff’s.

Steven came over as well, standing to the side of you so as to not abstract Slash and Izzy’s view of you. He dropped his own pants and waited expectantly for you to let him in on the fun. You glanced back to Axl. “Can’t keep him waiting.” He said with a grin. You looked back to Steven and started pumping his shaft as well.

You thought this was a lot but you knew it wasn’t the end of it either. Izzy and Slash were both standing farther back working themselves. It seemed that you watching them acted as confirmation and they came over.

They didn’t make you take them into your mouth like you thought they would, much to your delight. Instead, they started jerking themselves off in your face and all you could do was wait for them to cum on you.

Your body was getting tired, arms wanted to fall to your sides and your legs began to shake under you as you kept bouncing on Axl. Seeing this the ginger started fucking up into you, making it a little easier.

Of course he knew your body better than anyone and knew exactly which spots to hit to make your eyes roll back. You had five men around you, all with their dicks out for you. It made everything feel better, especially when Duff reached over to rub your clit.

He has long, talented fingers that quickened everything you were feeling. “Fuck! ‘M-’m gonna cum, gonna cum!” You whined, hands clenching and unclenching around Duff and Steven’s cocks which seemed to get Steven over the edge, white liquid spurting onto your lap.

You looked down at it with stars in your eyes. It was then that you realised how badly you wanted all of them to cum on you. You kept jerking Steven off, his voice getting higher now. You could feel Axl twitching inside of you so you looked back at him.

“Please cum inside, want it so bad, please.” You whined. Axl had always wanted kids so you learned early on in your relationship that he had a breeding kink and asking him to cum inside your tight cunt was a sure fire way to make him cum.

Sure enough he grabbed your hips and held you down on him while his cum filled you up. That feeling alone almost made you cum but what really did it was Slash toying with your nipple.

You hadn’t been looking at him so his warm hand was already a surprise but the way he fondled you made your eyes roll back into your head. Your body shook and the couch under you, along with Axl’s lap, was now drenched.

You heard Duff groaning beside you and looked over just in time to catch his dick leaking, thick liquid coating your hand. His hand didn’t stop working on your clit, rubbing it, pinching and flicking. Seeing what made you moan the loudest and sweetest.

Izzy turned your head and thick ropes spurted onto your face. You stared up at him, lips parted as his seed slipped into your mouth. You were in such a trance for a moment you almost missed the feeling of Slash cumming on your chest.

More than once you’d caught him staring at your chest, really anyone’s chest. You smiled up at him and moved up and down Axl a few more times so he could watch your tits bounce while he came.

You were all breathing heavy, panting on one another as you came down from your highs.

“Get up.” Axl said with a heavy breath, patting your thigh. You got up and then started questioning what he wanted, your mind still in a haze. Sweat and jizz mixed together on your body and dripped down.

“Why..?” You asked out of breath and legs shaking beneath you.

“You wanted to get fucked so bad,” the ginger started, “why not give everyone a turn?” You stared up at him with wide eyes as you felt Slash’s big, warm hands wrap around your waist.

#guns n roses #guns n roses fanfic #guns n roses x reader #guns n roses smut #gnr fanfiction #gnr #izzy gnr #duff gnr #slash gnr #axl gnr #axl rose x reader #axl rose smut #axl rose fanfiction #axl rose #axl rose gnr #axl rose imagine

[halfmoth-halfman]

iii. no proof except my silver tongue

Pairing: Mob Boss!Price x F!Reader Word Count: 8.3k Warnings: blood, alcohol, brief nudity, guns Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters. A/N: i ended up rewriting this part because i thought it was too long, but it ended up being longer than before so enjoy the hefty chapter! prev | next

“You know, it’s just dawned on me that you’ve never actually been to the club.”

You look up from the vase you’re polishing, tilting your head at Kyle, who sits across the table from you. He had been working on some kind of financial report when he joined you, but now he’s leaned back in the plush chair, arms folded across his chest as he stares at you. You blink back at him, trying not to let your eyes dip down to where he’s left the top two buttons of his crisp, deep purple shirt undone.

“I'm…literally in the club right now?”

Kyle rolls his eyes, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Not what I meant,” he scoffs. “You’ve never been here while we’re open.”

“You’ve just noticed that?” you ask, raising a brow at him. He gives a half-shrug, glancing back down at the pile of papers in front of him.

“You’ve been here for nearly three months…” he says, quickly glancing back up at you. It’s your turn to shrug, using that as your answer before you return to polishing the vase.

“There’s no cover charge for employees if that’s what you're worried about.” His voice is quiet, but you easily catch his words in the club's silence.

You stop mid-polish, setting the vase aside to clasp your hands together on the table. You meet Kyle’s eyes with a steady gaze.

“You think I can’t afford to get into your club?” You keep your voice light, but the accusation is there, and Kyle picks up on it instantly—you’d be surprised if he didn’t.

“I’ve seen that hunk of junk you call a car,” he laughs, all tease and no malice. You scoff, grabbing the closest serviette and tossing it at him. He catches it easily—one-handed and without flinching—neatly folding it and setting it aside. He turns back to you, still waiting for an answer.

“I’m not big on clubs,” you sigh, sliding your hands off the table to settle them in your lap.

“If I remember correctly, you came here to sing in a club?”

Your fingers loosen, allowing your thumb to pick at the edges of your nails.

“That’s work, not recreation.”

“Semantics.”

Your thumb catches on your pinky nail, digging in and tearing painfully into the bed of your finger. You roll your eyes, ignoring the sharp sting on your finger and Kyle’s quiet chuckles.

“There a reason you want me here so bad?” you ask, pulling your jacket sleeves down over your hands and folding them atop the table. You press your pinkie into the denim, letting the coarse fabric soak up the few droplets of blood.

“You missed out on the New Years party—”

“Not a fan of fireworks.”

“—And you’ve been here long enough. Most people would jump at the opportunity to get in for free.”

You have a feeling this is something Kyle’s stubbornly set on, and you’re going to have a hard time talking your way out.

“Isn’t there some kind of fancy dress code?” you try, looking down at your simple outfit; it's the same t-shirt and jean jacket combination you've worn almost every day—you hadn’t thought to pack your whole wardrobe when you started this little adventure. “If you’ve seen my hunk of junk car, you should know I don’t really have anything that nice.”

Not anymore.

Kyle scoffs, an easy and surprisingly sympathetic smile on his face. “Don’t worry about it. You can hang out at the bar with Alex, and if anyone gives you shit about it, just let me know.”

“I don’t—”

“And if it really bothers you, you can take one of Farah’s outfits from backstage. There’s a ton of them, dresses and suits; I’m sure you’ll be able to find something that fits.”

A moment of silence as you stare each other down. Kyle’s convincingly charming smile against your blank stare. You know he won’t accept no for an answer as you try to mentally sort through excuses to find one that might work.

All you can come up with is, “Who’s Farah?”

“Guess you’ll have to show up tonight and find out,” he smirks.

Walked right into that one.

You sigh, long and dramatic, putting your hands up in surrender. “Fine, I’ll come see what all the fuss is about.”

“Great!” You can't find it in you to regret the decision when you see how Kyle beams at you, clapping his hands together. He hurriedly gathers his spread of papers, standing from the table. “Club opens at eight. You can come in through the back; I’ll let Rudy know.”

He takes off, heading straight for the back office.

“Wha- hey! Is that why you came and sat with me?” you call out, turning in the chair to yell at his back.

“See you tonight, Canary!” he laughs, disappearing behind the doors.

-

You don’t borrow one of Farah’s outfits, instead switching out your denim jacket for the only other piece of outerwear you’d packed: a long, black sweater that still carries the faint scent of your mother’s favorite perfume. You switch boots, choosing your cleaner and less worn pair—still solid black and probably not formal enough for where you’re going—and try to put a little more effort into styling your hair than your typical ten-minute morning routine.

The bathroom mirror in your motel room is permanently foggy; your reflection is still visible, but just blurry enough to be frustrating. You do your best, using the always-too-cold sink water to wash your face and smooth down any stray strands of hair. It takes some time, and you’re finally presentable enough to leave the room thirty-four minutes after eight.

You’ve never been to this side of town at night.

The road to the club is packed, cars filling spaces on both sides of the street, some parked and some dropping people off. It’s almost an hour after opening, yet there are people everywhere. A long line spills out of the club into the crowds walking by. Blurs of silk, sparkle and too-much money pass by you, the masses already belligerently drunk and ready to party.

It takes some effort to get to the back lot in your car, avoiding cars and pedestrians alike. You can see a few stragglers in the alleyway: a bald man smoking by the dumpsters, two men talking quietly near the entrance, and a couple doing something they probably shouldn’t in the back corner.

You keep your eyes forward, parking your car and tucking your duffel bag as far under the backseat as possible before you get out. You lock your car, double and triple-checking that it worked, before hurrying to the back entrance.

You pull on the door, only to find it…locked?

When the hell did they start locking doors?

You knock, knuckles wrapping against the metal in a quick rhythm. You give it a minute, then two, then five, before you knock again.

Still nothing.

You groan, clenching your hand into a fist to bang on the door. You step back to wait for an answer, glancing around at your surroundings. The two at the entrance have joined the smoking man, all watching you as they exchange laughs. They’re dressed in all black covered by long coats covered in impeccable hand-stitched designs that you recognize; you’ve had a few of those bespoke coats yourself. Their smug grins verge on leering, setting you on high alert as you spin back around to the door.

You shuffle the keys in your hand to grip them like a small knife and pound on the door one more time, debating if you should try the front or just get back in your car and head home.

You hear the men laugh again, louder this time. Chancing a glance over your shoulder, you see the bald man toss his cigarette, stomping it out with a polished shoe. His eyes never leave you, even as he leans slightly to speak to the men beside him.

He takes a step forward.

Your hand tightens around your keys.

The door swings open behind you, a blast of hot air and a cacophony of delicious smells following suit.

“You’re late,” Rudy sighs as you turn to him. Tiny beads of sweat gather on his brow, threatening to slip down his handsome face onto his crisp, white uniform.

“Traffic was a nightmare,” you mutter, peeking back to the alley to find all three men gone and walking away. You let out a small breath of relief, your grip loosening on your makeshift shiv, turning back to Rudy with a smile. “So, you gonna let me in?”

He steps aside, and you hurry past him into the busy kitchen. You can barely hear the music over all the sizzling, clanking, and yelling in Spanish. A solid hand sets itself on your upper back as Rudy guides you through the kitchen's chaos and to the doors of the main room.

“Gaz is taking care of something, but Alex left a seat open for you.” Is all he says before someone yells, and he rushes off.

You’re immediately hit with the thrum of the music’s bass as you open the doors to the main room. It rattles through your chest, settling somewhere at the base of your spine. The curtains to the booths are all open, small groups of patrons laughing and talking over buckets of ice and wine bottles. You offer a polite smile to those who look your way as you head to the bar.

You don’t bother looking for a seat; your attention is immediately pulled to the scene before you.

You suddenly understand the longing and envy in your father’s voice when he told you tales of the infamous 141.

The room is covered in a soft haze of smoke, the normally blinding house lights dimmed to a sultry glow. The place is completely packed. The tables are full, older patrons decorated in subtle wealth enjoying rich food and richer wine. Groups of suits hang around the game tables, sharing drinks and letting their hands wander along the scantily clad women hanging on their arms. The dance floor is full, a colorful hurricane of expensive fabrics and laughter. A few smaller groups, mostly giggly couples, make their way up the steps to the second floor.

And at the center of it all, standing on the stage beneath a bright spotlight and singing into a microphone, is a woman with long, black hair dressed in form-fitting red satin. Her voice is lovely—soft and deep but upbeat—matching the fast-paced music perfectly.

There’s a slight pang in your chest—images of overpriced champagne bottles, hours spent in hair and makeup, throngs of black suits and blacker hearts staring up at you as you croon into your own microphone flashing through your head.

Stop it.

You shake the images from your mind, pulling your attention away from the siren on stage and ignoring the ache in your shoulder. Your eyes wander the crowd, spotting Soap serving a table with a dazzling smile and a few too many of his shirt buttons undone. Valeria sits at a poker table, cards in hand and a pile of chips bigger than any of her opponents. A few feet away, Ghost’s figure towers above the crowd as he stands unnervingly still with his hands clasped tightly in front of him. Next to him, speaking to a small group of men and women huddled around a pool table, is Mr. Price.

A deep blue shirt stretched tight over his chest with the sleeves rolled up and the top buttons left open, you can see the rise and fall of his chest as he laughs at something said at the table. Black, form-fitting slacks cover the expanse of his legs, held up by a belt with a silver buckle that matches his silver Rolex. He leans against the table at the hip, lit cigar in one hand and a half-full glass of whiskey in the other.

It should be illegal to look so good, you think, heat slowly flooding your face as you let your eyes rove over your boss.

“Enjoying the show?” You try not to jump, shrugging away from the sudden hand that shoves at your shoulder. You whip around to meet Alex’s beaming face and pray he can’t see the red in your cheeks.

“She’s amazing. Who is she?” you ask as Alex leads you further down the bar to an empty barstool.

“That’s Farah, Gaz’s sister,” he answers as you sit down. His voice catches on Farah’s name, and you think you see a flash of pride in that wide smile of his. “What’re you having?”

“Water,” you smile. The pride is quickly replaced with disappointment as Alex stares down at you. You hold his gaze long enough for a few other patrons to start getting impatient before you relent with a defeated sigh. “Fine, I’ll spice it up.”

“Ha, I knew—”

“A water with lemon, please.”

Alex turns away with a huff, tending to the other people at the bar. You turn around on the stool, content to people-watch from your spot. Alex slides you your water, a small lemon wedge on the rim, followed by a shot glass filled with what smells like flavored vodka. He sends you a wink, leaving before you can send the drink back.

After three more of Farah’s songs, you spot Kyle coming down the steps and weaving his way toward the bar. He glances over the guests until he spots you. You wave at him, and he smiles wide. As he approaches, the person next to you stands, shaking hands with Kyle before heading to the dance floor. Kyle takes the now empty seat, excitement plain on his face.

“I was wondering if you’d actually show up!” he laughs.

“I did! And now you can do me a favor!” you laugh back. Kyle raises a curious brow as you glance over to make sure Alex’s attention is elsewhere. You turn back, handing the shot to Kyle. “Drink this for me.”

“What is it?”

“Vodka, probably? Just drink it before he comes over here!”

He downs it with ease, setting the glass back on the bar. There’s a small pause before the alcohol hits him, and Kyle sputters.

“Not vodka,” he coughs.

“Glad I didn’t drink it, then,” you mutter, sliding your glass of water in front of him. He chugs the rest of your water, taking a bite out of the lemon for good measure.

Once his throat is soothed, his eyes flick to the club before he looks at you with a smirk made of nothing but pure mischief.

“I think you owe me for that one.”

“Fair enough. Name your price.”

Kyle stands from the barstool, stepping in front of you and holding out his hand. You look up at him, confused.

“How would you like a dance?”

You glance over to the dancefloor, then back to Kyle. You hadn’t come here intending to do much aside from hanging out with Alex, but the place doesn’t seem that bad. The gang appears to have a tight handle on things, not a single person upset or out of place. You don’t see the harm in having a little fun.

And you’d never gotten to enjoy your time at—

Fuck it, why not?

“Just don’t get mad if I step on your toes,” you laugh, giving Kyle a quick wink as you set your hand in his and follow him down to the dancefloor. He doesn’t wait, using his grasp on your hand to spin you into the crowd. You bump into a few people, but no one seems to mind; a woman in an almost too-short purple dress with a draping diamond necklace smiles at you as you collide with her, pulling you into another spin that sends you back to Kyle.

You don’t know how long you dance for, but it’s long enough for your feet to ache. Still, you keep dancing. You don’t remember how long it’s been since you’ve had real fun—how long it’s been since you were allowed to.

It helps that Kyle’s a good dancer, though his attention is split between you and Purple Dress, who seems determined to get him to herself. You can tell he’s as interested in her as she is him; his eyes wander back to her every time he rejoins you for another dance.

You’re ready to come up with an excuse to bow out and let them spend the rest of the night together when Kyle catches sight of something over your shoulder. He smiles down at you, grabbing your hand to spin you. You follow along, letting Kyle guide you until you collide with a solid chest and a set of hands clasp around your waist to steady you.

You look up to apologize, but the words freeze in your throat as you’re met with the smell of mahogany and expensive whiskey. Your eyes travel up the body in front of you to meet the sharp blue gaze of your boss. He looks down at you with amusement, hands squeezing your hips before he looks up at Kyle.

“Mind if I cut in?”

“Not at all,” Kyle laughs, immediately turning his attention to Purple Dress.

“Oh no, I don’t mind either. Thanks for asking.” The sass isn’t intentional, but you can feel the heat radiating from his hands into your hips, traveling up your sides and straight to your face. You feel the overwhelming urge to run, to return to the bar and drown yourself in lemon water and maybe a few of Alex’s mystery shots.

“We don’t have to dance—” Mr. Price assures you, beginning to step away, hands slowly starting to slide from your hips.

“No!” You step forward on instinct, chasing after his warmth. He raises a brow, mouth widening into a smirk that has your blush crawling down to your neck. “I mean—it’s fine. I’m fine. You’re fine—but not like that. Well, yes, like that, but that’s not what I meant. I—”

He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip to fight back his smirk, but you can see the way his shoulders shake with laughter.

Get yourself together.

“You’re my boss, and I don’t know what to do in this situation,” you say, trying not to let the embarrassment get to you. All you want is for a giant hole to open in the ground and swallow you, but that’s not likely to happen anytime soon.

“Relax, dove. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

It is sinful, the way he speaks with that deep accent.

“I…I think I want a drink.” Preferably enough hard liquor to make you forget this moment.

“Then we’ll go get you a drink.” Mr. Price turns over his shoulder to where Ghost stands, completely still among the flowing crowd of dancers. Had he been there the whole time? You hadn’t seen him, and he’s a hard man to miss.

“Go make sure everything’s ready in my office,” Mr. Price says, quieter than he had been with you. Ghost nods, giving the dancefloor a once over before melting into the crowd with an ease that’s surprising for someone of his height. One of Mr. Price’s hands leaves your waist, the other sliding around to settle on the small of your back as he guides you toward the bar.

He leads you to the bar, keeping anyone from bumping into you. It’s almost gentlemanly, and if you weren’t so nervous, you might’ve read a little more into that.

There’s only one empty stool, and Mr. Price steps aside to let you take it. You sit down with a soft thanks, his hand lingering on your back until you’ve gotten comfortable.

“Alex!” Alex whirls around at the other end of the bar, making his way over with a wide grin.

“Hey, boss!”

“Whatever the lady wants. On the house.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.” Alex gives a two-finger salute, shooting you a wink before returning to work. You stare at his retreating back, a new, minor wave of anxiety crashing into you.

If this is on the house, does that mean you were supposed to pay for your water earlier?

Mr. Price glances down at his watch, shifting his gaze toward his office, then back to you. He sets a large hand on your shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze—nothing like the bone-crushing handshake from when you first met. “I have to check on some things, but you should have a few drinks. Enjoy yourself, Plover; you’re not on the clock.”

“Yes, sir,” you nod. You let the name slide, not trusting yourself to correct him properly until you can collect yourself and get a grip.

“And stop calling me sir,” he laughs. “Price is fine.”

He sure is.

“Sure thing,” you smile. His hand slides from your shoulder. Had his fingers lingered, or was that your imagination? He looks down the bar to catch Alex’s eyes and gives a single, sharp nod.

“If you need anything, Alex will take care of it,” Mr. Price—no, just Price—smiles down at you. Another nod, this time at you, and you nod back before he takes his leave, heading toward his office.

You wait until he’s out of sight to turn to the bar, dropping your head into your hands.

What the hell’s wrong with me?

You don’t know what it is about that man that drives you crazy, but you’ll have to learn to reel that in real quick.

“Rough night?”

You peek through your fingers to see someone taking the seat to your left, their gaze focused entirely on you. You sit up, letting your hands fall into your lap as you turn to face the stranger.

You’d expected another patron, maybe another co-worker you hadn’t met yet.

You weren’t expecting the bald man from the alley.

He’s sort of handsome now that you see him close up. Dark brows, darker eyes framed by thick lashes, and a beard freckled with gray. You can see the appeal, but he isn’t your type.

Your type is currently checking on some things in his office.

“Not rough, just…new,” you explain with a friendly smile. He returns your smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Something about him seems familiar, and the sense of déjà vu that creeps up your spine sets you on edge.

“First time here?”

“You could say that.”

“You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself. Most people spend the first night trying to get as wildly drunk as possible.“ There’s a thin veil of disgust over that second sentence, the mild irritation sparkling behind his eyes as he gestures toward the crowd.

He smiles at you, but his eyes keep flicking behind you. You don’t know what, or who, is behind you, but it’s something he doesn’t seem to like.

“A bit presumptuous for someone you’ve only just met, don’t you think?” you ask, with a slight tilt of your head. The man chuckles, eyes traveling up and down your form.

He extends his hand, a collection of gold bands decorating his fingers, “Hassan Zyani.”

In an instant, you’re back to being stuffed in a tight dress, pouring drinks for your father and the fearsome man he’s attempting to negotiate with.

No wonder he seemed familiar.

“Canary.” You force out a smile, shaking his hand.

“Canary,” he draws out your name, your skin crawling at the way it grates over his tongue. “If you’d like, I would be happy to show you around. The rooms upstairs are particularly—”

Someone steps up to Hassan’s side—one of the other men from the alley—leaning in to whisper in his ear. The man faces away from you so you can’t read his lips. Not that you’d try with Hassan’s eyes fixed on your face. He nods at whatever the man says, standing from the barstool.

“I’m needed elsewhere, but perhaps later we can continue this conversation somewhere more…private?” Hassan doesn’t let you answer, kissing the back of your hand and walking off with the other man.

You let out a deep exhale the moment he leaves, rubbing the back of your hand on your jeans.

What the fuck was Ghorbrani’s right hand doing here? You knew from experience the Iranians kept their business within the family, but Hassan spoke as if he’d been here before. Was the 141 working with Ghorbrani? Your father tried for years to get in Ghorbrani’s good graces, throwing everything he could—including his only daughter—at the man’s feet. How the hell had the 141 managed what he couldn’t?

“You okay?” Alex’s voice breaks you out of your internal crisis, and you find him standing in front of you with a glass of water set between you.

“I’m a little overwhelmed, to be honest.”

And you are. You’ve had fun, but you’re tired and left with more questions than answers.

“You can sneak out the back if you want; we’re closing up soon anyway. Besides, I think you danced long enough to satisfy Gaz,” Alex chuckles. You look around the club and notice that there are indeed fewer guests, and those who are left seem to be winding down for the night. You check your watch, the hands reading a few minutes after three in the morning.

“Maybe. I wanted to say goodbye, at least,” you shrug, looking around to see if you can spot Kyle among the shrinking sea of people.

“He probably won’t be back out until after we close.”

You spin around in your seat to face Alex. “I can make it, just need something to do…You need any help cleaning up?”

“Hell, if you’re offering.”

Alex lets you behind the bar, handing you a rag to start wiping down the bar top. You busy yourself with cleaning, trying to keep your mind from wandering. The club winds down until only a few stragglers remain.

The music eventually comes to a stop, Farah heading backstage as the stage lights dim and reappearing in the hallway next to the stage. She’s changed into a black hoodie, dark jeans, and boots with her hair pulled back into a ponytail.

Farah makes her way to the bar, Alex meeting her at the top of the steps, leaning against the bar with a proud smile and pure adoration in his eyes.

You leave them to their conversation and take up the rest of the cleaning duties as König’s massive form heads down the steps to guide the remaining guests outside. The only people left inside are you, your co-workers, and Hassan’s two men standing guard outside Price’s office.

A few minutes pass by in relative peace: Alex showering Farah in praise, Soap bringing you empty glasses, Valeria counting her comically large pile of winnings, Kyle descending the staircase with Purple Dress giggling behind him, Alejandro joining the rest of you after locking the front doors.

A peace quickly broken by the sounds of shouting from the back office. All attention snaps to the doors and Hassan’s two men standing guard. Tension floods the room to a suffocating degree: Soap setting down his tray of dishes to face the door, Kyle guiding Purple Dress to stand behind him, Valeria’s hand crawling down the slit in her dress while Alejandro’s begins to slide into his jacket. You follow their lead, setting your rag on the bar top and preparing for the worst.

The seconds crawl by at an almost agonizing pace before the office doors burst open. Hassan storms out, followed quickly by Ghost, with Price walking up to stand in the doorway. Hassan turns back, shouting something in Arabic that you’re sure is an insult.

“Ghost, escort Mr. Zyani and his men out,” Price says, low and eerily calm. Ghost reaches for Hassan, but the man slaps his hand away.

“Get your hands off of me!” Hassan shouts. His men move forward, shoving Ghost out of the way to get between him and their boss. Alejandro stands abruptly, and Soap steps forward, but Price raises a hand, and the two stop where they are.

Hassan looks around, noticing the number of people he and his men are surrounded by before his eyes land directly on you.

He moves quickly, but you’re on high alert and catch the flash of silver he pulls from his coat. You drop to your knees, a bottle on the shelf behind you bursting into a spray of shards and alcohol.

You tuck yourself behind the bar, and all hell breaks loose.

Your heart slams inside your chest, the hurried thrum reverberating in your ears over the chorus of screams and gunshots. You crawl your way to the end of the bar, not stopping even as more bottles pop and shatter above you.

You barely feel the glass digging into your hands, peering around the end of the bar to look for a way out. You duck as several people run past you, all from the kitchen. A thunderous boom echoes from the front of the club, and the gunshots increase tenfold.

You take your chance, darting out from the bar and toward the kitchen as fast as your legs can take you.

You make it halfway to the backdoor when a hand snags the back of your jacket and yanks you into a rigid body. Two arms wrap tightly around your waist, lifting you up to slam you down onto the counter, dishes and cutlery shaking at the force. Pain vibrates across your body, your assailant gripping the back of your head to shove your face into the cold steel.

You reach out blindly as your attacker wrestles to get you subdued, feeling for whatever you can to help get away.

The blade that slices through your bleeding palm burns, but you tighten your grip around it and swing it backward. It lodges into the person behind you; you don’t know what part of them, but it’s enough to get them to step back from you.

You don’t hesitate, pushing yourself off of the counter and using the momentum to sprint towards the door. Footsteps thunder behind you, whoever it is recovering from their stab wound. You don’t think, yanking down every rack you pass in hopes of creating more obstacles to trip up your attacker.

You make it to the door, yanking it open just in time for it to shield you from an incoming bullet. You don’t bother looking, instead running straight for your car. Adrenaline courses through your veins, giving you the extra strength to not have to fight with the car door and pull it open on the first try.

You don’t even shut it all the way, only focusing on getting your key in the ignition. A higher power must be watching over you in this moment as your car starts up on the first try. You waste no time, not bothering with a seatbelt as you peel out of the backlot.

You head straight to your motel, body jittery with pain and adrenaline. Tension winds through your muscles, worsening into a painful tightness as blurs of police lights and sirens zoom past you. Blood leaks from your hands, sliding down your steering wheel to drip onto your jeans. You’ll deal with it later, you decide.

It’s not like you don’t know how to get blood out of your clothes.

You reach the motel, stumbling out of your car and kicking the door shut with little grace. You lock it behind you, trying not to run directly to your room but rushing all the same.

You move on autopilot, locking the door behind you, shutting the flimsy curtains, and immediately stripping yourself of your clothes. Your feet carry you to the bathroom, stepping into the shower before turning the water on.

The hard pressure of the frigid water is an instant shock, your body flinching at the sudden coldness. You stay under the spray, unable to will your feet to move, and stare down at the rusted drain to watch it sputter and swallow the water. Your hand rises on its own, holding your palm directly under the water. The hard beads sting as they beat into your wound, but the cold of the water seeps into your skin and numbs your hand just enough.

It takes almost two hours to collect yourself with a combination of deep breaths and soft assurances to yourself. By the time you turn the water off and step out, the sun is already starting to come up.

There’s a considerable effort for you to get dressed, the rush wearing off, leaving you full of aches and pains as your muscles untense. You wrap your hand in the gauze from your measly first aid kit, changing into your pajamas—a t-shirt and your only pair of sweatpants—before collapsing face down onto the lumpy bed.

You stare at your door, unblinking and vacant until the sun’s fully risen and sleep finally decides to take you.

-

A knock on your door startles you awake.

You lift yourself, groaning at the stiffness in your limbs and the ache that has invaded your entire being. There’s no light shining through your window, the whole room shrouded in darkness.

How long were you out?

The knock comes again, rougher and hurried.

“Hold on, hold on,” you grumble, shuffling to the door. You unlock it, pulling the door open just enough to look outside.

“Ma’am?”

It takes two seconds too long for you to process the blue uniforms and gold badges. The haze of sleep evaporates in an instant, and you straighten up. Their badges shine against the fluorescent light above your door: Dipaolo & Erikson.

“Is there something you need, officers?”

“We have reason to believe you might’ve been witness to a shooting last night. We were hoping you could come down to the station and answer some questions,” the cop in front of you, Erikson, speaks. You know that tone—the command hidden under the guise of friendly suggestion.

He’s asking, but he isn’t.

And if they’ve found you here, there’s little chance you can lie your way out of this one.

“Uh, yeah,” you say. “Yeah, no problem. You mind if I grab a jacket and some shoes first?” You open the door a little wider to show them your attire. Officer Erikson nods, and you leave the door open as you hurriedly grab your jacket and slide into your boots. You fasten your watch, catching your reflection in the glass.

To say you look rough is an understatement, but you don’t have the time to get dolled up now.

You head outside, and the officers let you lock your door before escorting you to their squad car. Officer Dipaolo opens the back door, holding it open for you. You can’t help but give your car a quick glance as you slide into the backseat. Officer Dipaolo shuts the door and joins his partner in the front.

The drive to the police station is quiet, the two in the front speaking to each other in hushed voices. Occasional chatter comes across their radio, but nothing they seem concerned about. Every once in a while, you catch Erikson glancing back at you through the rearview mirror, but when you meet his eyes, he immediately looks away.

Dipaolo holds the door for you again after you arrive, and you're escorted through the station. You get a few looks from the other officers, but all attention is suddenly stolen by the sudden shout from lockup—

“Hey, Pigeon!”

You turn abruptly, spotting Soap leaning against the bars with a broad smile and bruised jaw. He’s not alone, either. The entire gang seems to be stuck inside, all sporting their own cuts and bruises and all staring at you.

“Quiet!” An older cop, bald and angry and dressed in a nicer uniform than the rest, slams against the bars and startles Soap. You see Ghost shoot to his feet behind him, fierce glare aimed at the cop as he grabs Soap by the back of the shirt and pulls him away from the bars. The cop huffs, turning to look at you with a curious glare. You set your gaze on the floor, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“This way,” Erikson says, setting a hand between your shoulder blades and gently guiding you further into the station.

The room you’re left in is all gray, with a single metal table, a few chairs, and a large window of one-way glass.

You may have never been in a police station before, but you know what an interrogation room looks like.

Erikson brings you a cup of water, pulling your chair out before he takes his seat across from you. Dipaolo joins a few minutes later, walking in with a friendly smile. You smile back, but you peer out the door as it shuts behind him to catch a glimpse of the same angry cop watching you with an uncomfortable intensity.

“You’re not under arrest or anything,” Dipaolo starts—an attempt to be reassuring. “We just have a couple of questions for you, Ms….”

“Canary.”

“Of course. It’s nothing to worry about, Ms. Canary.”

“How did you find me?” you ask. “I—I mean, I didn’t give anyone my address, so….”

“Security cameras caught your car leaving the club,” Erikson explains. “We tracked your plates.”

Well, shit.

They must see the discomfort on your face because they both switch to good cop mode. Dipaolo leans forward, “Listen, the people who run that club are involved in some very bad business, and I think you know that. We just want to make sure they don't get anyone else hurt.”

They must think you're an unwilling participant, some damsel in distress. That's fine; you can work with that.

You shuffle in your seat, hands fidgeting in your lap. You keep your gaze focused on the table, glancing up at one of the officers every so often.

“What kind of help?” you ask softly. They share a quick glance, poorly hidden triumph in their smiles.

“We just need you to tell us what happened last night, as much as you can remember.”

You take a few deep breaths, exaggerating the shake in your exhale before nodding.

“Well, I got there—”

“Questioning someone without their lawyer present? I thought you two knew better than that.” You jump at the sudden slam of the door as a woman marches into the room, all respect and authority.

She’s older, blonde hair pulled up into a neat bun, and wearing a similar suit to the one your old family lawyer used to wear. She takes the seat next to you, staring hard at the now-agitated officers on the other side of the table.

“Didn’t realize she was one of yours, Kate,” Dipaolo spits, his glare briefly traveling to you.

“Because I’m not,” you speak up, taking everyone in the room by surprise. Dipaolo and Erikson ease up, but the woman—Kate?—fixes you with a stern stare. She turns to the officers, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I represent the club and all of its employees. As long as she works there, she’s a client.” She’s explaining to them, but telling you.

“I don’t need a lawyer,” you counter.

Kate’s hands clench around her arms before she says, “I need a moment with my client.”

“Doesn’t sound like she wants to be your client,” Erikson smirks.

“Doesn’t matter what she wants; I’m still here to represent her. Now, give us five minutes.”

You don’t need to be alone with her; you need to get the hell out of here and back to your motel room.

“I can tell you what happened,” you call out before the officers get two steps from the table. “If she wants to be here or not, that’s her choice.”

They sit back down, smug and taunting, ready to listen. You can feel the frustration oozing from Kate, but she stays put and stays silent.

“Kyle invited me to come see the club when it was open—”

“Kyle Garrick?” Dipaolo asks, and you nod.

"It was supposed to be a fun night out—a break from work—and it was. Things were fine until….” You give Kate a nervous glance, quickly looking away from the look of warning she gives you. “I was at the bar when this man came up to me. He said his name was…Hassan, I think? He started…flirting with me, and when I tried to keep things friendly, he got pushy. He said he noticed me outside and that he could show me the upstairs rooms. I tried to leave, but he grabbed my hand and—”

You take a moment, letting out a long, quivering exhale and squeezing your throat. It only takes seconds for the wetness to build in your eyes.

“One of his friends pulled him away, but he promised to come find me later so we could talk in private. I didn’t know what he was going to do, so I told the bartender, and he let me stay near him until closing. After everyone left, I was grabbing my jacket when Hassan showed back up with his friends. I tried to walk away, but one of them grabbed me and threw me onto the bar. I—”

You let the tears roll down your cheeks, waiting a few seconds before wiping them away. “I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone, I swear, but I was so scared. I just grabbed a glass and hit him with it. I think someone must’ve heard the commotion because Ghost and Kyle came in and tried to kick the guys out, but then Hassan pulled a gun—”

“Wait—wait, you’re saying Hassan pulled a gun?”

“I don’t know who shot first, but only him and his friends had weapons. I don’t know what happened; Ghost told me to hide behind the bar and run as soon as I could, so that’s what I did. The last thing I saw before I got out of there was him trying to wrestle the gun out of Hassan’s hands….”

Silence looms over the room, so you add, “If Ghost hadn’t been there, if he hadn’t shown up, I don’t know what those men would’ve done to me. He saved me.” You throw in a sniffle as Dipaolo sighs. He leans over to whisper something to Erikson, glancing back at the one-way glass.

“Is there anyone else who can corroborate your story?” Erikson asks through clenched teeth.

“There was another woman; she was in a glittery purple dress. I didn’t catch her name, but you could probably find her on the cameras. There weren’t a lot of people in purple.”

“And she saw everything that happened?”

And then some, you almost laugh to yourself.

“Yeah, she was there the whole time.”

“Alright,” Dipaolo sighs. “Thank you, Ms. Canary. We appreciate your honesty.” He doesn’t sound very appreciative, but you don’t really care.

“We’ll have one of the boys escort you out,” Erikson says, standing from the table. He holds the door open for you, and Kate follows you out into the long hallway. Dipaolo disappears into another room as Erikson whistles over another officer to show you out. You follow behind him but are stopped when a door opens behind you.

“A minute, Kate?” You and Kate look back to see Erikson and Dipaolo standing with the same bald cop from earlier.

“You go ahead,” Kate says to you, turning to the three with a polite and professional smile. She walks away before you can stop her, the officer in front of you nudging your arm and grumbling a quiet let’s go.

He leaves you on the front steps, standing by yourself in the cold, commenting that a cab has been called for you. You mutter a thank you, pulling your jacket tighter to fight the chill.

You take back that thank you forty-five minutes later when you’re still standing outside with no cab in sight.

Of all the times to not have a phone.

Another fifteen minutes later, you post up against the wall next to the doors, staring up at the clear night sky. It’s not as clear in the city as it was from your old view, but you find a small sense of comfort in the twinkling stars.

A few cars pull up, sleek and black, led by a vintage silver car with dark windows. You don’t have time to question it, the station doors opening abruptly as a cluster of footsteps pouring outside. You turn your head, watching the 141 leave the station, too busy speaking to each other to notice you.

Valeria leads Alejandro and Rudy into one car, Alex and Farah getting into another. Ghost and Soap get into the same car while Roach, König, and Kyle head across the street and start walking down the sidewalk, leaving one more car behind the silver car.

Price and Kate stay behind, waiting until everyone’s left.

“You sure we’ll be alright, Kate?” Price asks, watching the cars pull onto the street.

“Should be,” Kate sighs. “All they have is the exterior cameras and the bullets from Hassan’s guns. No one got killed, so all they have is eyewitness testimony.” Kate looks over Price’s shoulder, catching sight of you.

“Thanks for the help, Kate.”

“Don’t thank me,” she says, nodding toward you. “It was all her.”

Price turns around, surprised to find you standing there. You give a little wave of your fingers, trying not to wince at the pain in your hand.

“Here, you can take my car home,” Kate says once Price turns back to her. She hands him her keys before making her way down the steps. “Just make sure to return it in one piece,” she calls over her shoulder as she gets into the back of the last black car.

Price huffs out a laugh, shaking his head before turning his attention to you.

“Enjoying the fresh air?” he asks, leaning on the wall next to you.

“Waiting for a cab that probably isn’t coming,” you sigh, moving your gaze back up to the sky. “I think I pissed off the officers, and this is their way of getting back at me.”

“You definitely made a few enemies in there,” Price chuckles.

“Well, I couldn’t let my boss rot in a cell, could I? Who’s gonna sign my paychecks?” you joke. His chuckles turn to a full laugh, staring at the side of your face while you pretend not to notice.

“Come on,” he speaks up, pushing himself off the wall.

“What?”

“I’m taking you home,” he smiles. You want to argue, assure him that you can find your own way home, but your mind goes blank, and all you can do is nod. You follow him to Kate’s silver car, trying—and failing—not to blush as he holds the door open for you. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything, sliding into the driver’s seat.

The first few minutes of the drive are spent in comfortable silence, with you giving him quiet directions. You lean back in your seat, savoring the warmth of the car.

“Does it hurt?” Price asks, breaking you out of your contentment.

“Does what hurt?”

He takes his eyes off the road for a second, nodding towards your hand where it rests in your lap.

“A little,” you shrug. “I was too tired to do anything other than wrap it.”

“Have Rudy look at it tomorrow. Make sure it’s nothing too serious.” He’s using that Boss tone that tells you there’s no room for debate, but you swear you hear a small current of worry beneath the surface.

The rest of the drive is quiet but not uncomfortable. Price follows your directions easily and even lets you turn the heat up a few notches.

It isn’t until you get close to the motel that you tell him to stop.

“You can just pull over here,” you say, gesturing to the sidewalk. It’s close enough that you can see, and walk to, the motel but far enough that no one else staying there will see the car.

“Here?”

“Yeah, people might get the wrong idea if they see me getting out of a car this fancy,” you laugh as he pulls over. He doesn’t laugh along, and when you turn to him, he’s frowning back at you.

“Something wrong?”

“I know we’re not paying you a lot, but I’m sure you can afford more than…this.” He looks to the motel, then back to you, unsure and concerned. It’s almost endearing.

You unclip your seatbelt so you can turn to fully face him. “You’re paying me quite generously, actually.”

“Am I?” He raises a brow, leaning forward ever-so-slightly. It takes everything in your power not to let your eyes fall to his lips.

“Mhmm,” you hum, a sly smile stretching across your face. You lean closer, blinking up at him innocently, catching the way his throat bobs as he swallows. “In fact, you’ve decided I earned a raise after tonight, and I’ll be sure to celebrate and treat myself to two bags of pretzels from the vending machine.”

With that, you swing the car door open and slip out into the crisp winter air. You start down the sidewalk, the telltale sound of a car window rolling down behind you as the car creeps alongside you.

“There’re other places around you can stay, y’know? Safer places,” he calls, leaning over into the passenger seat to look at you.

“Thanks for the ride, sir,” you laugh, turning to wink at him before heading into the motel parking lot. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

taglist: @sleepyendymion, @blazedprince, @blueoorchid, @ohgodthebogisback, @melancholyy-hill, @wasteland-babe, @meepetteoneonly, @anitaebee, @honeyr4ven, @curasimp, @jxvipike, @frazie99, @reiya-djarin, @urfavsunkissedleo, @hauntingtherosebush, @aerangi, @ofmenanduhhhwellmen, @warners-wife, @xx4rcticxx

#captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #price x reader #captain john price #captain price #john price #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #mw fics #moth writes

[whatawonderfulexistence--blog]

My Girl (Fatgum x Fem! Reader) SMUT

This fic was purely self indulgent because I've been going through a lot recently and Fatgum's one of my comfort characters, so, be nice, please.

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 18+, SMUT, AFAB reader, Fem! Reader, use of she/her pronouns, mentions of body dysmorphia and lack of self esteem, mentions of weight, p in v sex, pussy eating, Dom! Taishiro, being restrained by partner, praise kink, size kink, unprotected sex, other than that just pure fluff (lmk if I missed anything.) Enjoy!

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You paused the work you were doing on your laptop when your phone began buzzing on your nightstand. You looked at the caller ID curiously, it was your boss. He never called you on your day off. You answered the call in a panic, surely something had to be wrong. Fatgum was always trying to ensure you were resting properly. 'You work too hard as it is, sweets. I don't want you to worry about work at home too.' "Hey! You busy today?" Your body instantly relaxed at the sound of his usual jovial tone on the other end of the line.

"Not in the slightest." You set your laptop on your bed next to you, wanting to give him your undivided attention. "Do you need me to come in today?"

"Do you really think I'd ask you to come in on your day off?" You stifled a giggle at his mockingly offended tone. "I was going to do some shopping and stuff around the city today… I would like you to come with me if you can. Maybe I could take you out to dinner while we're out?"

"Are you asking me out on a date?" You could hear his nervous stuttering on the other end of the line.

"I… Um, yeah, I guess I am." He chuckles. "Would you like to go on a date with me?" The words came out slowly, the briefest of pauses between each one as if he was carefully thinking about every syllable that left his lips

"I would love to, Tai." You couldn't keep the beaming smile off your face.

"Great!" His voice flooded with relief. "I'll pick you up in an hour." The two of you exchanged your goodbye's before you hung up to get ready. You had been working with Tai for years now, he was someone you very quickly learned to call a friend. However, throughout your years of working in such close proximity with him you had developed a little crush on the BMI hero. It was nice to see that your feelings weren't one sided, but, you would be lying if you said you weren't still a little nervous. You must have tried on everything in your wardrobe before deciding on an outfit, groaning as nothing fit you exactly how you wanted it to. You knew you shouldn't be putting so much thought into this. You had come such a long way with Taishiro's help, but as you looked at yourself in the mirror you couldn't help but have doubts. Part of the reason you wanted to work under Taishiro in the first place was because of what he stood for. Fatgum made being big something to be proud of. Your squishy tummy and muscular thighs were something to be celebrated, not ridiculed. You put on an outfit you felt confident in, and it helped you feel a bit better. It was funny really, whenever you started to feel negatively about how you looked you would always think back to Tai. Numerous press events, formal dinners, company trips, he was there to build you up whenever your confidence wavered. Now should be no different. Before you realized it an hour had passed, you perked up at the sound of someone gently knocking at your door. There in front of you stood Taishiro in his civilian form, holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. You were a bit shocked when you saw him, you were so used to Fatgum that you had forgotten what he looked like in his civilian form. Loose white Tshirt hanging off his frame, messy blond hair falling perfectly against his forehead, the only thing resembling the hero you knew so well was his unmistakable smile.

"You brought me flowers?" You were in awe that he remembered what your favorites were, something you had only told him once in passing a while ago.

"Pretty flowers for the prettiest girl I know." You inhaled their sweet aroma as you took the bouquet from him, inviting him inside while you looked for a vase to put it in. "Thank you for letting me take you on a date." You gently grabbed his arm, squeezing his bicep with a small smile.

"There isn't anyone I'd rather go on a date with." You notice him blush slightly at your compliment. "I almost didn't recognize you when I opened the door, it's been a long time since I've seen you in civilian form." He looks down at the floor, kicking his toe against the hardwood.

"I figured you'd rather go on a date with Taishiro… not Fatgum." You couldn't help but notice his dejected tone. You take a step closer to him, reaching out and taking his hand in yours.

"Tai, I like you for you, not how fat of skinny you are." Golden eyes finally find yours, smile already returning to his lips. "You make me laugh, you and I could talk about anything for hours and I would never get bored, you give amazing hugs." You giggle and he laughs, thumb languidly running over your knuckles. "Those are the things that made me fall for you, not some silly number. Besides, fat form or not, I think you're incredibly handsome." You let out a flustered giggle at such a direct complement. He pulled you to him, arms wrapping tightly around you as his chin rested in the top of your head.

"Have I ever told you how amazing you are." He squeezes you, earning yet another laugh from your much smaller form. "Let's go have some fun, yeah?" You nod, fingers lacing with his as you leave your apartment building. The two of you made your way to what many considered the shopping district of the city, your eyes wide as you peruzed the window displays of each store. You paused in front of one shop in particular, a sexy little cocktail dress catching your attention. "You'd look great in that darlin'." You jumped slightly at Taishiro's voice right next to your ear. He saw the hesitance in your expression, knowing exactly the thought process you were going through. His hands fell on your waist, a blush immediately erupting on your cheeks. You could feel the heat radiating from his body as he remained just far enough away so as to not have his whole torso pressed against your back. "Why don't you go try it on? I'd like to see it on you." You swallowed thickly, nodding and placing your hands on top of his. He kept an arm securely around you as you headed into the store, Taishiro doing all of the talking so you wouldn't feel pressured. The sales associate inside was more than happy to help. She walked with you to the dressing rooms in the back, Taishiro making himself comfortable on one of the chairs just outside with an excited smile on his face.

"You and your boyfriend are absolutely adorable." She squeals quietly. You thanked her, the self doubt that was still flooding your mind making it hard to focus. She brought you the dress you had your eye on, helping you get zipped up before you returned to the main floor. At the first sight of you Taishiro's jaw dropped. He fumbled with his wallet, pulling out his credit card and passing it off to the sales associate.

"Tai, you really don't have to do that," you hurried over to him. "I'm not even sure if I like it." He stood, taking your hand and bringing you over to the full length mirror by the dressing rooms. He turned you so you could look at yourself, your arms immediately coming up to cross over your torso. You felt so exposed. He ran his hands up and down your sides, over every curve you felt insecure about.

"You look beautiful, sweets." He stooped down to rest his chin on your shoulder. "Is there anything I can do? I want my girl to feel as pretty as I think she looks."

"Your girl, huh?" You saw Taishiro's face flush in the reflection. You looked at yourself in the mirror again, letting your arms fall to the side. Tai's compliment didn't take away your insecurity but it definitely helped dull the sting it left in your chest. "You promise I look okay?"

"You look more than okay darlin'." He hugs you from behind. "You look perfect." The sales associate returns with a bag for your clothes that still remained in the dressing room, Taishiro convincing you to wear the dress out of the store. You tried to argue that it wouldn't go with your sneakers, but he couldn't be swayed. As you walked you reached out for his hand once more, he laced his fingers with yours eagerly. You couldn't remember the last time you had this much fun. The two of you made your way from shop to shop, giddy and laughing the entire way. Taishiro never left your side; whether the two of you were holding hands, he had an arm wrapped around your shoulders, or he was pulling you into a hug, your thoughts didn't have a chance to deviate away from the butterflies he gave you. You sat across from him at a small table in an outdoor noodle shop you had stumbled across as your day wound down. Chin resting in your hands as you watched him carry on a jovial conversation with the shop owner. You had already known, but today really cemented things for you. You were in love with him. "And she'll have the same." He turns to look at you once more with that breathtaking smile. "I hope you don't mind that I ordered for you."

"I trust your judgment on the food here." You giggle. He reaches across the table and takes your hand in his, gently rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

"I really wish today didn't have to end, I've had a really good time with you." His gaze lingered on your lips for just a moment, but it was enough to get you flustered. You thought about kissing this man more often than you would like to admit. Now, with him sitting here in the soft orange lantern light, the warmth of his hand mingling with your own, the thought was beginning to creep its way to the front of your mind yet again. The two of you gradually began to lean closer to each other over the table as you quietly conversed, the background buzz of the other patrons lost to you. You were startled apart by your food arriving at the table. After a delicious meal and fantastic company Taishiro walked you home, cutting through the park to spend just a little more time with him. Your intertwined hands swung between you as your conversation carried on. You both fell silent as you came across a street performer who was playing a soft melody on his guitar. Taishiro paused and looked down at you. "Would you like to dance, darlin'?"

"I would love to." You say quietly. Taishiro wraps an arm around your waist, gazing longingly into your eyes as you swayed with him in the warm night air. Crickets and frogs accompanying the instrumentals as your heart pounded in your chest. "I… really like you Tai." He smiles softly down at you, the hand on your waist giving you a gentle squeeze.

"I really like you too." His voice barely above a whisper as golden eyes remained locked with yours. You noticed him swallow thickly, tongue peeking out to wet his lips before he slowly began to inch his face closer to yours. Your eyes slid shut as his grip on your waist tightened, pulling you flush against him. It was perfect, he was perfect, his lips were hovering over yours when suddenly you were interrupted.

"Hey is that Fatgum?" You both sighed, opening your eyes you were met with the sight of an apologetic smile on his lips as his fans rushed over to him. Being a well known hero like him had its drawbacks sometimes, you had been working with him long enough that privacy could be a luxury. After some casual conversation and photos were taken the two of you continued on your way, eventually arriving at your apartment.

"Sorry bout that." He chuckles bashfully.

"It's really okay, I wouldn't want you to sacrifice your reputation with your fans just for me." You step closer to him, resting your hands on his chest. "Besides… I'm really hoping this isn't the only date we get to go on."

"Oh, don't you worry, sweets, I plan on spoiling my girl every chance I get." Your heart fluttered at him calling you his girl. He pulls you into a tight hug, neither one of you wanting to let go. As you pulled back you placed a soft kiss to his cheek. "Goodnight." He stood in front of you with a bashful expression, rocking slightly on his heels.

"Goodnight, I'll see you tomorrow." You both wave as you close your door. You let out a sigh as you kicked off your shoes, about to head out of your entry way when there was a knock at your door. You opened it to see Taishiro still standing there.

"I'm sorry… I just-" He lets out a frustrated groan as he stutters before pulling you to him. His lips crashed against yours with such passionate ferocity or caused you to stumble back, one of his arms circling around your waist, the other gripping firmly onto the doorframe to keep you both upright. Kissing Taishiro made you feel like you were floating. His lips soft and warm against yours as the entirety of him flooded your senses. The sweet, musky scent of his cologne. His hand gripping your waist as he held you as close to him as he could. His hair soft against your fingers as they tangled into it. It was probably the best kiss you had ever experienced. Your lips trailed after his as he reluctantly pulled back. A warm hand found its way to your face from the doorframe, your head still spinning from the kiss.

You stood there, wide eyed and breathless as you gazed up at him, your body hot with want. "Tai, would you like to come inside?" He responded simply by scooping you up in strong arms, pushing through the half open door and ducking his head under the doorframe as he entered your apartment. The door was closed and your back was pressed against it, Taishiro's size and strength allowing him to move your body around with ease. Your legs wrapped around his torso as he settled himself between your thighs, lips finding yours again with ease as he hungrily captured your lips with his own. A massive hand cups your jaw with an almost shocking delicacy, Taishiro's presence already beginning to overwhelm you in such a short amount of time. His thumb swipes over your cheek as he gazes down at you, his expression a mixture of lust and nerves.

"Are you sure this is okay, sweetheart?" You felt your chest swell at the care he was putting into making sure you were comfortable. You pushed your fingers through his messy blond hair.

"I'm sure." Your voice soft and small as it left you. Despite the fact that Taishiro wanted you more than anything else in the world at the moment, yet still held you so delicately, allowed you to feel safe. You knew the man before you better than anyone, and you were eager to see what kind of mind numbing pleasure he would help you experience. Your hands rest on his chest, he still scanned your features for any sign of apprehension. "I want to experience all of you Taishiro." That was all it took to send him tumbling over the edge. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he attacked your neck, lips leaving a trail of fire across your skin. You couldn't help but gasp at the feeling of his rough, calloused fingers sliding underneath the hem of your dress, successfully hiking the fabric up to your waist with ease.

"Such a pretty little thing you are darlin'." He massaged your thighs, the room filled with the chorus of small gasps and moans that fell effortlessly from your lips as he nipped and sucked dark marks onto your cleavage. "I want everyone to know you're mine after tonight sweets." You let out a surprised yelp as Taishiro dropped to his knees, throwing your legs over his shoulders and bringing him face to face with your already soaked cunt. "You like to be tossed around a little. Don't you, princess?" You bit your lip, your head connecting with the wood behind you with a full thud. Your cheeks burned, embarrassed that he managed to get you turned on so easily. Taishiro chuckles at your expression before placing soft kisses along your thigh. You squirmed in his grasp, his hot breath fanning over your exposed skin. "Be a good girl and sit still for me darlin'." You would have laughed if you weren't in such an exposing predicament. It's not like you had a choice whether or not you would sit still, Tai had his arms snaked around your thighs in a vice grip, you couldn't have escaped even if you wanted to. You whined, fingers tangling in his hair, the pet name turning you on even more. You wanted to be good for him, to have him push you over the edge of your climax over and over again until you went limp. But, even in just your day to day life, Taishiro was a tease; Rolling up his sleeves to show up his muscular forearms and hands as he perched himself just a little too close to you at your desk to read something, he was very good at getting you flustered with the simplest actions. Now was no different. Panties ripped from your body and discarded as he kissed the lower half of your body everywhere besides where you needed him to most.

"Tai," you whine his name, giving his hair a gentle tug, "please." He rested his head against your thigh, looking up at you with a smirk as he noticed just how needy you were for him. He hadn't even touched you yet and you were already coming undone before his eyes. His eyes kept you locked in place, keeping eye contact with you as he finally gave you some relief. You cried out for him, giving his hair another firm tug. You felt him smirk against you at your outburst, satisfied with your reaction. He ate you out like you were his last meal, every movement from his skilled tongue threatening to send your climax crashing over you. Your body moved on its own as you ground your soaked pussy against his face. He hums against you, glad to see you enjoying yourself. You gasped as he slipped a finger inside you, wanting to get you as prepared as possible for later. "Fuck, you're so good at this." You couldn't help but giggle, your head swimming in pure pleasure.

His thumb replaced his tongue against your clit, rubbing circles at a firm, even pace over the already sensitive nub. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself." He chuckles. "Think you can keep up? You're already looking pretty fucked out sweets." You could hear the shit eating grin in his voice, your response cut off with a moan as he slipped another finger inside of you. Your cunt was already stretched around his fingers alone, you couldn't even begin to imagine what his cock would feel like inside of you. You pushed down on his fingers, strangled gasps and moans leaving your shaking frame as he inched you closer to your orgasm. "Are you going to finish for me darlin'?" You nod, biting down on your lip to try and quiet your sounds. "Eyes on me sweets, I want you to look at me while you cum." Your face burned as you locked eyes with him, your head empty aside from any command he gave you. His mouth returns to your sex, assaulting your clit with his tongue before sucking it roughly into his mouth. You screamed his name as you climaxed, your legs shaking, crushing Taishiro's head between them in the process. He places one last kiss on your clit once he finishes with you, causing you to jolt. He helps you down off of his shoulders, arms never ceasing to support you as your feet hit the cold wooden floor. "Where's the bedroom?" You attempted to start walking in its direction, your legs felt like jelly as they struggled to keep you upright. You giggled as he scooped you up in his arms again.

"It's the last door on the left." He carries you through the door, setting you gently on the bed before leaning down to kiss you, the taste of you still on his lips. He tugged at the bottom of your dress, asking your permission to fully remove it. You gave him a nervous nod in response, allowing him to peel the fabric off your body. He took in the full sight of you with a smile, you couldn't help but notice the massive bulge in his pants as he stood in front of you.

"You are so beautiful sweets." He pulled his shirt over his head. Even in his civilian form he still had the soft tummy you loved so much, the softly defined muscles of his arms and chest, he really was flawless. As he stepped out of his pants you realized you were in trouble. Taishiro's impressive length looked like it was enough to rip your small frame in two. He chuckles at the slight fear he saw in your eyes. "Don't worry darlin', I'm gonna take my time getting you ready." He was back on you in an instant, lips finding yours with ease as he carefully laid you back. His massive paw cupped your sex, slowly palming you to help you relax. You whimpered softly, grinding against him to try and get more friction. He chuckles, "not enough sweetheart?" His thumb runs languid circles against the bundle of nerves, still sensitive from your last climax you moan softly into the crook of his neck. Two fingers teased at your entrance before they pushed inside you. The intensity of being so suddenly stretched open caused you to tense, Taishiro stopped the instant he felt it. Soft kisses were placed along your neck and shoulder, "just relax princess, I got you. You doin' alright?" You nod against him, arms holding onto him as tightly as you could manage. Your muscles loosened, allowing him to fully slide his fingers inside you. You feel him start to move slowly inside of you, fingers rapidly being able to slip in and out of you with ease as they become slick with your juices. Your feverish panting and Taishiro's gentle praise broke up the silence. "Such a good girl, you take my fingers so well, sweets, you're doing such a good job." A veil of sweat now covered your skin, every small touch sent a jolt of electricity across your exposed body. Your nails dug into his back as Taishiro added a third finger. You hissed at the slight sting but urged him to keep going, it felt incredible and you didn't want him to stop. The slow thrusting of his fingers began to pick up again, everytime brushing a certain spot inside of you that numbed your mind completely. Your vision went white as your second orgasm hit you, this one even more intense than the first one. You whimpered and squirmed in his grasp. Taishiro looked down at your quivering form with bright eyes as his thumb picked up its pace on your clit.

"Taishiro, fuck!" Your fingers raked down his back, you were sure you had left marks behind but he didn't seem phased in the slightest. A second orgasm crashed into you right after the other one. You bit down on his shoulder to muffle the scream that ripped through you. He gradually slowed his pace, allowing you to come down from your high. You looked down to see his free hand pumping his massive erection. You placed a hand on his chest, letting your head fall back against the mattress as you tried to regain control of your breathing. "Lube… bottom drawer… just give me a second." You giggled through your panting. Taishiro retrieved the bottle, before he had the chance to prepare himself, you decided to help him. You placed a hand on his waist, nudging him in the direction of the bed. He says down without complaint, smirking as he watches you squirt copious amounts of lube into your palm. You gently pushed the head of his cock against your hand, he let out a low groan, his head tilting back slightly as he kept himself propped up on his elbows to watch you.

"Fuck, sweetheart. Your hands feel really good." He smiles, his flushed cheeks and blown out pupils leaving nothing to the imagination about how good you were making him feel. You pumped him slowly, a soft moan escaping his lips whenever your palm dragged over his tip. Now sufficiently lubed up, Taishiro grabbed you by your waist and tossed you onto the mattress, eliciting an excited squeal from you. "You ready darlin'?" You nodded, attempting to let your body relax as much as possible. He ran the tip of his cock along your entrance, the lube making you even more wet than you already were. He slowly eased into you, stopping at any sign of discomfort and allowing you to adjust. You leaned into his touch as he rested a hand on your cheek, groaning as he got as deep inside of you as he possibly could. You whimpered as your walls stretched around his thick length, hiding your face against him as he sat there motionless, allowing you to adjust. "I'm gonna try and move princess, stop me if it's too much." He eases himself out of you and carefully pushes back in. Placing gentle kisses against the side of your face, telling you repeatedly how good you're doing, how incredible you felt around him. Slowly the discomfort dissipated and you were filled with nothing but pure pleasure.

"Faster." You stammer out. Taishiro wasted no time on your request, gradually picking up speed until your screams of pleasure were the only sound that filled the room. He kissed you hard, the ruthless thrusting paired with his lips on yours taking your breath away. You tugged him back by his hair slightly, "I'm gunna-fuck." The words you were trying to get out were cut off by your high pitched whine, your toes curling and head spinning from how good he was making you feel.

"Me too sweetheart." His thrusts were starting to get sloppy, his intensity dropping as he neared his own climax. He quickly pulled out of you, pumping his cock as hot ropes of cum shot all over your stomach and chest. He gave you one more soft kiss l, looking lovingly into your eyes as he gently cupped your face. "How are you feeling, princess?"

You nodded, voice coming out in a horse croak as you spoke, "wonderful." Taishiro chuckles, giving you a quick peck before he stood up.

"I'll be right back, I think I saw your bathroom across the hall right?" You nodded, watching him as he disappeared only to come back a few moments later with a cloth to clean you up with. "Alright sweets, let's get you cleaned up, yeah?" He carefully ran the warm washcloth over your body, being as gentle as he possibly could as he cleaned you up. You hissed as he ran the cloth over your sex, knowing you would be incredibly sore come morning. "Sorry 'bout that sweetheart."

"It's okay, I didn't expect to walk away unscathed." The two of you shared a laugh as he discarded the cloth and crawled into bed next to you, helping you under the covers. He pulled you into his arms, you nuzzled against his chest.

"Do you, um… do you want to make things official?" He asked you nervously. You rest your chin on his chest, gazing up at him with an expression nothing short of pure adoration.

"Tai," he turned his gaze down to look at you as you said his name. "I've had feelings for you for a long time. Today was… perfect. I would go up to the roof and scream that you're my boyfriend right now if my legs would carry me there." He chuckles, running his fingers through your hair.

"Your boyfriend, huh? And you're my girlfriend." He beams down at you, you nod with a giggle. "I'd really like that." You push yourself upwards to kiss him before snuggling into his side. You drifted off in his arms that night, completely content now that he was at your side. You woke up the next morning to the smell of breakfast cooking in the kitchen. You got yourself dressed, stretching as you wandered your way into the kitchen. Taishiro stood there in nothing but his boxers, the sight alone was enough to bring a smile to your face. You hugged him from behind, placing a kiss between his shoulder blades before laying your head against his back. "Mornin' darlin'."

"Morning." You sigh sleepily. You were about to ask him how long he'd been up when there was a frantic knock at the door. Peering out into the hallway you saw Taishiro's two sidekicks standing there with a nervous expression. "Kirishima, Amajiki, what are you two doing here?"

"Fatgum's missing, we've been trying to call him all morning, he never made it to the office-" Kirishima was cut off by their mentor appearing behind you in the doorway. "Oh-"

"I forgot to charge my phone. Smart plan coming to (Y/N)'s though, good job boys." He wraps an arm around your shoulders, the two of them absolutely dumbfounded by what they were seeing. "Come on in, I'm making breakfast."

#mha fanfiction #mha smut #mha #mha x reader #fatgum #fatgum x reader #fatgum x fem reader #mha taishiro #taishiro x reader #mha taishiro x reader #taishiro toyomitsu #taishiro toyomitsu x reader #taishiro #bnha taishiro #bnha fatgum #bnha fatgum x reader #mha fatgum #mha fatgum x reader #boku no hero academia fanfiction #boku no hero fanfic #boku no hero #boku no hero academia #my hero #my hero academia fanfiction #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero x reader #fluff #smut #fan fiction

[thecolorblockcurator]

A month ago I asked you to send me some journal prompts to dig deeper before I start testosterone- because I felt like there were things I was still pushing down

And here is the list I compiled!

Imagine yourself as an elder queer person - who are you? What are your values- what does your life look like, what do you look like

What beliefs do you have about love- where are they rooted, are they limiting? How have you challenged them?

Write about what you’re attracted to, traits, physical appearances, moments, experiences. (sexual or platonic)

Write about your love language- how you show love, and how you want to receive love.

How do you show vulnerability in your love life? Where do you need to push yourself to be more vulnerable? What are you afraid of sharing

A childhood moment of feeling queer/trans and feeling joy

A childhood moment of feeling queer/trans and feeling fear or confusion

Moments when you felt like you were close to recognizing/accepting your gender or sexuality but repressed it instead.

What does masculinity mean to you? How does it show up in your life. What parts of masculinity appeal to you? What doesn’t?

What does femininity mean to you? How does it show up in your life. What parts of femininity appeal to you? What doesn’t?

What are your thoughts on gender? Does your gender fit within the gender binary, or is it something else entirely.

What parts of your gender, if any, would you *like* to feel one way about, but actually feel differently about? Why do you think you would like to/should feel this way about that part of your gender

Does your gender affect or influence your sexuality? Is there anything that you feel like is a contradiction between the two- is that something you embrace or feel uncomfortable about.

How are your views about your gender influenced by others in your life? What are you holding onto because of a fear or anxiety about what others will think

Do you have unexamined negative feelings about men and masculinity/women and femininity that may be affecting your decision to transition? Have you delayed/repressed your desire to transition because of this?

Are you able to conceive of the kind of man/woman/enby you want to be? Do you know any people like this? If the answer is no, is this impacting how you feel about your transition?

Do you have fears about living as a man/woman/enby that you haven't examined? Am I afraid of being treated differently/ losing access to certain spaces? Am I afraid of how my interactions with others will change? Am I afraid of people's reactions to my transition?

What small thing can you do right now to affirm and express your gender

Do you want to take hormones? List all of the possible changes you could expect. Sort them into columns. Want, Don’t Want, and No Preference. Spend some time reflecting on each change, what is the underlying reason why you put them in their respective columns.

Do you want gender affirming surgery? Invision yourself after the procedure - what emotions does that bring up, is there anything holding you back?

If you went through puberty already - How did that affect you physically and emotionally. How did you feel at the time. What would you have liked to happen?

Create a visual gender moodboard. Collect outfits, accessories, style icons, favorite movie & tv characters. Things that make you feel euphoric.

Is there anything you would like to try out to express your gender that you’re afraid of doing? What is the motivation behind that fear

Have you worked through any internalized transphobia. Are you afraid of being less desirable after transition?

Are you afraid of being less queer or less visibly queer after transitioning?

#trans #transgender #nonbinary #enby #journal prompts #queer

[mcuamerica]

The Shadowsinger: Thirteen

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. Alludes to sex, mentions of wing clipping, mention of parental death, fluff, ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: You join the IC at the town home for Solstice, then make a decision about Windhaven.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!

Series Masterlist

Eight - Nine - Ten - Eleven - Twelve

You laughed as you saw Cassian and Mor drunkenly try to play the piano in the sitting room. You had a glass of some very expensive and very old wine in your hand, provided by Rhys. You had exchanged gifts earlier in the day. You received a lovely pair of fighting leathers from Cassian, two full outfits (including jewelry) from Amren, and a warm cloak from Rhys. Azriel had given you a specially crafted dagger. It had swirls mimicking shadows on it, and the blade and the metal were almost pure black. Along with it, came a sheath that fit perfectly with the leathers Cassian got you. And Mor… well she got you a hideous scarf and lace gloves. You weren’t sure what to do with them, but you figured maybe you’d display them in your closet. 

Rhys was sitting next to you, a faint smile on his face. For this being the first Solstice out from Under the Mountain, you thought he would be happier. But you could see that something was missing from him. He still refused to talk to you about anything other than your training and threats the Night Court was facing. After everything you had been through, you just wished you could talk to him. Like you had Under the Mountain. But that relationship might have been gone now that Rhys had his true family to talk to. He didn’t even tell you why he hadn’t called in the bargain with Feyre. Not the real reason at least. 

Amren was in the corner, a small smirk on her face as Mor played the wrong notes of the piano and Cassian was singing incredibly off key. You looked up as Azriel came over to you, not swaying at all despite the amount of alcohol he'd ingested tonight. “Care to dance?” He asked and you giggled, taking his extended hand and got up, steadying yourself as you grabbed his bicep. 

“You better be as strong as you feel. Cause I’m not going to be standing for very long.” You joked and smiled as he winked at you, promising he’d never let you fall. You both began dancing in circles as Mor and Cass continued their horrible song. Still, you laughed with Azriel as you’d stumble into him, or as he would make a wrong turn. 

The rest of the night consisted of you all singing and dancing with each other. And finally, around when the clock struck two, Azriel led you upstairs to your bedroom. You finished your fit of giggles from tripping up the stairs and leaned against the wall next to your door. “You, my Shadowsinger, are very much the stronger of us two. By a lot.” You said, holding back a hiccup. “You’ve caught me like ten times tonight.” 

You called him your Shadowsinger. Azriel’s heart skipped a beat. “You should get some rest, (Y/N).” He said, even though a smile came to his lips. You were both way too drunk to have him tempted into your room tonight. If he was going to take you, he’d do it properly and be very sober. So he could taste and feel everything from you. 

“Hmm… alright.” You said and turned towards your door, shadows pushing it open for you. “Better hope I can get out of this dress properly.” You said, half to yourself, and half to Azriel as a tease. You might have even heard a Cauldron boil me under his breath. “Goodnight, my sweet, strong Shadowsinger. Please don’t wake me up for some stupid training tomorrow.” You said before your shadows shut the door behind you. 

The night had been perfect. You spent it in Azriel’s arms or around him, not-so-subtly flirting with him the entire time. You’re pretty sure you showed him that you liked him. And that you enjoyed his company. And if the Inner Circle didn’t know, they probably did now. 

Rhys was agitated after Solstice. You couldn’t tell why, and honestly you were starting to get annoyed with him since he wasn’t talking to you. 

You were all having a meeting at the House, just a week after Solstice. And he snapped at Amren for suggesting that he needed allies outside of the Night Court. You could’ve sworn you saw her eyes flare with that silver power of hers. But she hid her annoyance much better than Rhys. 

You took Rhys’s arm, dragging him into one of the smaller sitting rooms. “What is your problem?” You asked, crossing your arms. “You’ve been on edge this entire week.” You said. 

He was practically panting. You’ve never seen him so worked up. He turned towards one of the open windows. He allowed the breeze inside, cooling the room instantly. “Feyre is marrying Tamlin.” He said. You detected a lot of jealousy in his tone... and scent. 

“And? They- they’re partners. It might be soon but-“ 

“She’s my mate.” 

Your eyes widened. You blinked at him for a few moments and then hummed. “Why haven’t you called in your bargain?” You asked. 

“She hates me. She’s been through so much. I don’t deserve her. I can’t bring her here when she’s marrying him.” He said. 

“Didn’t you say Tamlin was letting her waste away?” You asked and stepped towards him, resting a hand on his arm. “She might hate you, but I doubt she would if you allowed her to see past the evil High Lord act.” You said. 

“She’s marrying him… she might be miserable but she’s said yes. It’s in two weeks.” He said. 

“Do you think she has any other choice?” You asked and rose your eyebrows, looking up at Rhys. “She was a human almost three months ago. Tamlin saved her-“

“She saved herself. She’s the one who fought while Tamlin did nothing. He begged but he did nothing. He’s pathetic. And he’s letting her waste away in that manor.” He said. His wings were already out, but the longer he talked, the more darkness gathered around him. 

“Call in the bargain, Rhys. If you need me there, I will be. But you deserve to be happy. You’ve done enough suffering.” You said and squeezed his arm. “Call in the bargain.” You said again before turning to leave the room. 

“Is Azriel your mate?” He asked before you could open the door. 

You turned back towards him and frowned. “No… I haven’t had a bond snap into place. Not for anyone.” You said. 

“You certainly seem like you like him.” He said. 

“I do. He’s gorgeous. But he’s just warming up to me.” You said and smiled a bit. “And I’ve got training to focus on, I don’t need a mating bond right now.” You smiled at Rhys. “I’m here if you need me.” You said before leaving. 

You got back to the table, telling them that Rhys needed to cool off. You sat next to Mor, seeing Azriel peer at you from the corner. He was much more likely to be in the shadows than you were. While you used your shadows to hide, he used them to lurk. Not that he needed to right now. You were pretty sure he was doing it right now just so he could stare at you without being obvious. You stared right back. 

You went back to Windhaven the next day. Your wing was completely healed, thanks to Madja and her incredible abilities. You went straight to Devlon, apologized for hitting Calder, and said from now on you (and the other females) would be training with the males. 

“No, absolutely not. The females have to do chores first and they’re behind-"

“Put them with the new recruits. They will learn the exact same way the males do. There is no reason for them to be separate other than your bias.” 

“The males will refuse to train with females.” He said. 

“Then they don’t get to train, that will be on them.” You said and crossed your arms. “I’ve talked to the females, they have no problem training with the new recruits. If the males do, then they don’t train. But the females have the same trainers.” You said.

“Is this an order from the High Lord?” He growled.  

“It’s an order from me. And just as Cassian does, I speak for the High Lord.” You said. You did talk to Rhys and Cassian about it. Even Azriel sat in on the small meeting. They agreed. As long as you could convince Devlon, they would support you on it. 

“And where is the Commander?” He asked, looking around. 

“He has more important camps to visit.” You jeered. “Today, I’ll train with the recruits. Show you and them that a female can keep up with any male at the same level.”

“You’re at the level above the new recruits.” He said. You were surprised he admitted it. 

“Then I’ll train with those males. And if I fail, the females stay training separate. If I succeed, however, they train at the same time, with the same commander.” You said firmly. 

Devlon looked out over the camp, his arms still crossed over his chest. “Fine, though if you hit another male unprovoked, you’ll get the lashings just like they do.” He said. 

“And if he hits me?” You asked, smirking as he waved you off. 

By the time lunch came around, you were panting and sweating with the drills the training commander was making you run. But you were keeping up with the other males. Some of them went ahead of you, some behind. All you had to do was show that you were just as capable of training as any of them. And you did. Albeit, you were exhausted by the end of the day. You didn’t even go back to the house, you just went to the cabin. After a quick bath, you shoveled down food and then passed out on the couch for the night. 

Azriel came the next morning to see how you were doing. Cassian and Rhys had a situation to handle at Ironcrest, and he knew you would be tired. It was before dawn and you were still on the couch, wings awkwardly wrapped around yourself as a makeshift blanket. He smiled as he saw your peaceful demeanor. He knelt down beside you, moving the hair from your face. “(Y/N)?” He whispered. 

You groaned and shifted, wincing as your wing caught on the back of the couch. You opened your eyes, blinking away the sleep. “Az?” You whispered. 

“Hey… did you sleep here all night?” He asked, sighing when you nodded. “You’re not going to be happy when you train today. You gotta sleep in your bed.” He said. 

“I was too tired to go up the stairs.” You said, tucking in your wings as you sat up. “Today, I was informed, is flying training.” You said. 

“Devlon said the females would train with the new recruits. Though I heard some of the males wouldn’t train with them. So I assigned them to chore duty instead,” you said with a smirk on your face. “See how they like chores instead of training.”

Azriel looked at you and shook his head. “You’ve done more than we’ve been able to do.” He said and smiled. “Thank you for helping with this. These females deserve to have the choice of training.” 

“This is only the first camp. My father’s camp… and Ironcrest… I don’t know how that’s going to go.” You said, shifting slightly. 

Azriel hummed and shrugged. “Prove to this camp that you’re just as good, better, than them.” He said. “Which you will be. Especially with the way you’re training.” 

“I think I need to stay here. Not just visit. I should live with them, and I need to be here.” You said, looking out the window that faced the camp. You could see the younger males and females running around doing morning chores. You even saw some of them playing together. 

“You want to live here? Full-time?” He asked, a protective light shining in his eye. It was one thing to visit and train, but to live here… He shook the thought out of his head. You could protect yourself. You were more than capable of putting any male in his place. 

“Until they continue without me nagging at them every five minutes, yes.” You said. “I’ll talk to Rhys about it, make sure he doesn’t need me in Velaris… but I think this is where I’m needed.” 

“Care if I visit?” He asked, sitting down on the small table in front of the couch. 

You smiled and leaned forward. “I would love it if you'd visit, Azriel.” You said, eyes scanning over his face. “Only if you don’t show how much you’re infatuated with me in front of the other males. Would make me seem weak.” You teased and nudged him as you got up. You stretched before going to the stairs. “You want to watch us train today?” You asked. 

“I’d love it,” he said and leaned back, smiling as he watched you walk up the stairs. 

You changed into the new fighting leathers Cassian got you and smiled as you saw Azriel waiting for you. “Can I ask you a question about the Blood Rite?” You asked. 

He frowned slightly, nodding. The thought of you participating in the Rite made his stomach churn. 

“Did you still have your shadows with you? Or did the spell take that away too?” You asked. 

“No, I didn’t have my shadows.” 

“Was it weird? Not having them with you after so long?” You asked and he shrugged. 

“A little, but I was more focused on surviving the Rite. Getting to Cass and Rhys.” He said and smiled a bit. “Why?” 

“Because I think I might have to compete,” you said, grabbing your water canteen. “If they’re supposed to take females seriously, they won’t until they see one survive the Blood Rite. If I could do it this Spring…”

“The Blood Rite is… you could die,” he said, frowning. “Are you sure?”

“If I can make the qualifier, I’ll do it.” You said and filled the canteen. “But only if you and Cassian think I would be ready for it… that’s what the whole training exercise in the mountains was, wasn’t it? To mimic the Rite? With my bound wings?” You asked. 

“Partially.” Azriel admitted. “But there’s other times your wings might be bound. And you still had all your normal strength.” He said. “If you want to participate… if they let you… it would be extremely hard.” 

“Females have competed in it before. And survived… not in hundreds of years.. but they have.” You said. “Cassian told me… but I know it’s not easy. I think it would be worth it.” You said. “And maybe other females would see they could do it too.” 

“Keep training. Make the decision once you get near to the qualifier… but doing it this Spring… I think you would need to train individually with Cass or me. They go at a slower pace. Unless you can get up each level every week.” Azriel explained. 

“I can do it.” You said firmly, turning towards him. The soft look in his eyes, the worry, told you that he believed in you. But he hoped that you wouldn’t compete. Not this year, and not anytime soon either.

Azriel didn’t want you to compete not because you couldn’t, but because he was worried about you dying. About losing you. 

“I know you can.” He answered, then opened the door. “Now let me see you train. Kick some Illyrian ass.” He said and winked at you. You laughed gently and walked out, Azriel trailing behind you. 

You walked in comfortable silence, noticing how Azriel would scowl at some of the males walking by. “You know, you normally are very good at holding your emotions back.” You said and nudged him. “This place must put you on edge just like me.”

“Illyrians can be brutal, and a lot of them used to make my mother’s life a living hell.” He said and frowned. “But luckily, she’s safe and no one mistreats her anymore. Not on my watch.” He said. 

You looked at him and gave him a small smile. Cassian told you about Azriel’s mother. How he only got to see her once a week when he was a child. And never saw her when he was training here. 

“My mother died after giving birth to my younger brother.” You said, looking forward. “My father had to make a choice between Varyn and my mother. His wings came out at an odd angle, and she was losing too much blood. Instead of having a disabled son… he allowed his wife to die.” You said and frowned as you  looked forward. “My mother was the kindest Illyrian I'd ever met. Her wings were clipped when she came of age, but never allowed my father to clip mine. She said she wouldn't, at least. After she died, he didn’t give a damn about anything.” You frowned. “When I met Sirona, she had such a similar personality to my mother. They would’ve been fast friends… I miss them both. And will never forgive my father for what he did to my mother.” 

“What about what he did to you?” He asked. 

“He’s a hateful man.” You said and let out a breath. “What he did to me was unforgivable, but… I got out. And my wings are intact. That’s because of me. I won’t hate him for it. But I hate him for a lot of other things.” 

“And yet you can still stand to be here?” He asked. 

“I have something to prove to myself. To prove that I can be better than any of these males.” You said and stopped outside of the mess hall. “Want to eat?” You asked, turning to him.

Azriel gave you a gentle smile and nodded, following you inside.

A/N: Aww this is a cute little chapter! The next one... let's just say there may be some spice in it...

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