#weighing pros and cons and dealing with possibilities | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

senanatheskenana · 8 months

Text

The Sinclair Twins With Baby Fever

This contains smut so minors do not engage thank you. Contains graphic depictions of sex/ sexual acts.

(Also i havent written smut in a while so im sorry if its bad lmao)

Bo Sinclair

Bo never thought he'd want kids.

He thought they were sort of like inconveniences from how his parents acted when they were kids.

But that idea slowly began to change after meeting you

For one, it takes two people to make one, and in a ghost town, there isn't an abundance of living women.

And Bo didn't really believe he would be a good parent.

However, it all flipped rather suddenly for Bo.

You had been showing him photos from an old vacation you went on with family and he stumbled across one of you and your niece.

A tiny one-year-old, in cute pink dungarees, all swaddled up in your arms with big blue eyes and one of her chunky hands in her mouth on an exploration.

Bo admitted that it was rather cute and you started to ramble about the times you've looked after family and children.

And it occurs to Bo that while he may not be wonderful with children, you certainly were.

The thought comes along all too suddenly for his liking and before he knows what he's doing, he's imagining you with your baby- his baby.

It makes his chest flutter, the image of your swollen belly and milk-filled chest burning into his eyes.

He tries to give it some serious thought, weighing up the pros and cons of such an important choice.

Bo of course brought it up to you. He wasn't going to just grin and bear the need he was now experiencing.

~~~~~

"Oh my god," you grin up at him. He scowls and huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What? I don't see what the big deal is." he's still pouting and you have to admit he looks pretty cute like that, with blushy cheeks.

"Bo, you've got baby fever!" you giggle and him as he huffs again.

Bo throws his arms up in the air and sighs. He knows he isn't going to win that battle. "Look did you want to have a baby or not, sugar?"

You give him a long drawn-out silence, leaving him in anticipation for what he deems to be far too long, however, he doesn't want to push his luck on the situation.

You finally give him a smile and a wink, "Of course I do, Bo." he fights back a smile and slinks closer to you to give you a peck on the cheek but lets out a chuckle when you pull him back again for a proper kiss.

He smirks and practically throws you into the bedroom, not wasting a moment to take off his shirt and throw it to the side. He tugs down his jeans and you both begin to shed clothing as fast as possible. You can hear the clink of your husband's belt hitting the floor over the sound of your loud heartbeat. He finally moves to slot himself between your thighs, grinding against your clothed heat.

Bo hasn't felt this nervous in a long time. Normally, sex is rough and teasing with Bo, but every little touch against him feels like fire and it has him moaning into your chest like a virgin. The image of your swollen belly ingrains itself into his mind again, and he feels himself becoming too needy to pace himself. Before he can fully grasp what he's doing, he's already rutting into you with quick deep thrusts. He doesn't bother pulling out and wasting time on long thrusts, choosing to just chase the pleasure you both want so badly.

Bo loves the way you look under him like this, eyes nearly closed and rolling back with your mouth agape from the breathless moans you're making after every rub of his cock against your g-spot. He can feel you tightening around him, and he honestly can't recall a better feeling than this. He can tell you're going to cum soon with how loud you are and how your hips try to chase his.

Bo slips a hand between you both and plants it on your folds. He'll be damned if he was going to cum this soon without you. You let out a moan that sounds like it was straight out of a porno, and Bo feels it travel like electricity down to his groin. You can feel him twitch deep inside you, kissing against your internal ridges. You're so tight that Bo can barely move without moaning like a bitch.

He comes close to your face, watching your fucked out expression closely. His fingers speed up, deftly finding your clit and circling it like he's begging for you to cum around him. "'Gonna cum, sugar?" his southern drawl drags you out of your fever dream state and you nod up at him, failing to find words anymore. You grip his shoulders and you wrap your thighs around his waist. He laughs at the idea that you're stopping him from pulling out. You cum and he can feel you completely spasm around his cock. Bo knows he can't take another second of that intense pleasure before he's cumming so hard he's seeing coloured patches in his vision, moaning as he stills inside of you. Hot ropes of his cum spurt out into you, making you gasp from the new feeling.

Bo nearly collapses on top of you after, head laying on your comfortable chest while your fingers rake through his wet hair. He can't bring himself to pull out of you just yet, and he's still breathless from finishing inside you for the first time. He can feel your thighs rocking still with the aftershocks of the experience. He kisses your chest lightly and looks up at you.

"I love you, Sugar," he murmurs softly against your skin, "I love you so much."

You don't miss how one of his hands rubs gentle circles into your tummy.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent's biggest problem is his lack of communication. He can't simply speak about how he's feeling most of the time.

If he could, you may have found out about this sooner.

Vincent has always been more tolerant of children than Bo was so he experienced this quite early on but didn't know how to approach you about it.

He was worried that you would think he was weird or that you wouldn't want kids and then leave him.

So for months, he suffered in silence, fighting the urge to paint your insides with himself, and fantasising about what life would be like if you had a baby.

He's touched himself to the thought of you swollen and glowing, and imagining it's you he's coming in before the reality sets in again and he feels disgusted with himself once more.

You've started to notice his hesitance in intimate moments and you finally confront him, asking if he doesn't think you're attractive anymore.

He moves his hand to different parts of the basement, all filled with paintings and sculptures of you. It was a stupid thing to ask, of course, he thought you were gorgeous.

~~~~~

So you finally ask him what the problem was, and why he was suddenly not willing to touch you.

Vincent is of course quiet. He, in all honesty, was trying to hold off sex because he didn't feel he could trust himself to pull out anymore. He was worried that the temptation would be too great and he wouldn't be able to help himself. He's not really sure how he can say that and not come off as a huge pervert.

So he just comes close to you and embraces you momentarily, before placing a hand on your abdomen. It's just barely present but you can feel the touch. Then he takes his hands and makes a cradling motion.

For a moment you're confused. What does he mean by 'baby'? until it clicks in your mind. Did Vincent think you were pregnant? Was that why he was being so careful?

"Vinny, sweetheart, I'm not pregnant you dont need to worry about hurting me or anything-" Before you can finish, Vincent shakes his head and begins to sign.

'I know he looks at you to make sure you're following him, 'I think that's the problem'

Some sort of realisation becomes apparent to you and you ask the question he's been wanting to ask for months.

"Do you... Want a baby?"

He waits a moment and then nods before looking down. He begins signing again but doesn't look up, he doesn't want to see your grossed-out face.

'I was scared to force something on you but I wasn't sure how to say it. I didn't think I could trust my body during sex anymore.'

Your heart swells a little bit at the confession. Had Vincent been beating himself up for wanting to get you pregnant?

"I think I want a baby too, Vince" you giggle when his head shoots up from looking down at the floor. He signs too quickly for you to follow but you can just about catch the words 'Angel' and 'love'.

He stops signing and abruptly picks you up, spinning you before holding you bridal style in his arms. He hasn't said but you have an idea of where he's taking you. Vincent kicks the door to your shared bedroom open and gently places you on the covers. He removes his own clothing- save for his mask- and then patiently removes your own, kissing the skin that is revealed.

Usually, Vincent gets quite needy during these moments, and his touch is feverish. He's painfully hard at this point, but he wants to savour you. He doesn't want to lose himself just yet.

You're the one who removes his mask, taking in his flushed face and pulling him closer for a kiss. He can't begin to describe how much he loves you at this moment. He puts little weight on you as he traps you on the bed between his arms.

You make a noise of surprise when he pulls back from you to lean on his feet. You're about to ask what he's doing but he's already sliding down your body to slot his head between your thighs. He gives the left of a small nip before kissing it again. Your core floods with anticipation when he gazes up at you like that. He waits for you to push his face closer to your folds to make sure you're okay. As soon as you do, he pushes his whole face against you, breathing you in and flattening his large tongue against your pussy. He lets out a raspy moan before he truly begins to lick. You know what's coming and the anticipation makes your thighs shudder around his head.

He looks up through his hair to see you throw your head back in pleasure. He's always loved how you look like this, with his head between your thighs and your hands in his hair. The sight is so hot that he knows he could probably finish from it alone.

Your breath hitches when you feel his hand travel from your hip to your folds. He uses his hand to part them before he gives a few kitten licks to your clit. His own eyes roll back as you spasm, and he continues that motion, fingers sliding into your wet core. He moves his two fingers slow and deep inside you, crooking them upwards halfway through each languid thrust. And just like that he can feel you tightening on his fingers with each lick and movement. Your moans get louder but he continues, spurred on by the look of pleasure you give him.

Your hips rut against his face and he moans against your clit, taking it into his mouth and sucking it. Just like that his fingers bring you over the edge, moaning and shaking as you wrap your legs around his face. Vincent removes his fingers and pushes his face into you again, licking up your juice before rising once more to be above you. You still look fucked out and he takes pride it in. You pull him in and kiss him deeply.

Vincent's hands travel down your thighs and stop at your knees. You briefly wonder what he's doing before he pushes them up and pins your legs against your chest. He's never tried this angle before.

But he likes it. A lot.

You can see from his expression that he's enjoying the view and briefly his eyes flicker between you and a sketchbook. You grab his face gently and make him look at you.

"You can draw later. Right now I want you to fuck me, Vincent"

His one good eye widens as if to say 'Yes ma'am' and before you know it, he's slotting himself into you, using his body weight to keep your legs pinned against your chest. Already he's so deep inside you that he's pushing against your sweet spot without trying. Vincent takes a moment to gather himself- he doesn't think he's ever been this deep inside you and suddenly he loves this position even more. He begins to roll his hips against you slowly, teasingly. He knows you want more so he begins to move, throwing a fair amount of his body weight into each deep thrust. Vincent can hear your breathless moan with each slap of his hips against your backside. He leans down on his strong left arm and uses his right to fondle your bouncing chest, making eye contact with you. It's your half-lidded hazy expression that makes his heart hammer in his chest. Vincent mouths the words 'I love you' and 'so pretty' over and over like a chant.

He's sure you can feel every little twitch and pulse of his cock with how tight you are around him. Fuck, he thinks, you feel so good. He's missed your pretty cunt so much and he's certain you've realised by how desperate his movement is becoming- degrading from measured, long, strong thrusts to irregular, quick jabs accompanied by crackly whimpers of pleasure. He's worried that he'll cum first now so he pulls his hand from your chest and pushes it between your folds to play with your clit.

A low, fractured murmur of "G-Gon' cu-um" falls from his open mouth and you're shocked for a moment.

Vincent stills against you and you feel your insides flood with warmth. The feeling along with his fingers still rubbing you tenderly, makes your own orgasm wash over you and he moans again as your pussy sucks him in further. He waits until you both finish before slowly pulling out of you, globs of excess cum seeping out of you. He uses his fingers to scoop the leaking cum up and fingers it back inside of you, humming when he sees that it isn't leaking anymore.

"I love you, Vinny," he looks at you and smiles, placing a pillow under your hips. He comes back to you with a flannel and washes the sweat from you and places a kiss on your forehead. Vincent lays beside you on the bed, placing his head against your chest and running his palm over the soft part of your tummy.

#xreader #bo sinclair x reader #house of wax 2005 #house of wax x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #bo sinclair #slasher x reader #slashers #slasher fucker

1K notes · View notes

gjenkatarot · 1 month

Text

tarot masterlist ☾ paid readings ☾ exchange readings

hello, pile one! before i begin, i want to mention that this person may be unfamiliar to you. they have feelings for you and have been observing you from a distance. this individual is empathetic and perceptive, able to understand and respond to the emotions of others. they are courteous and possess emotional resilience, which could make them a valuable mentor or advisor. they feel a sense of exhilaration and urgency when it comes to you. they may have some idealized perceptions of you due to their imaginative nature. they express their affection in unique and unpredictable ways. it's possible that this person has not shown you any clear signs, but they are genuinely interested in you. they are playful and somewhat flirtatious, and they perceive you as someone with depth and mystery. it's likely that they are older and wiser than you, and they may share similar values. your admirer may come from a background where tradition and stability are highly valued. despite any uncertainty, they always notice you, even in a crowd. however, they are hesitant to express their feelings, fearing it may lead to tension or conflicts, especially if they are aware of other people's interest in you. they could be struggling with conflicting emotions or external pressures, making it challenging for them to open up fully. they might be in a phase of letting go of past experiences and focusing on personal growth and healing, possibly seeing you as the source of greater fulfillment that they seek

channeled poem for you from your secret admirer;

[stormy seas by j.střelou]

i would rather swim in

stormy seas with you,

than sail calm waters with

anyone else

hi, pile two! your secret admirer is quite different from the person in pile one. this person is calm and quiet, preferring the peace and quiet of solitude to loud gatherings. they're the type who likes to mull over their thoughts and feelings, perhaps even enjoy problem-solving and deep thinking. your admirer might come across as wise and mature, looking for meaningful connections with others. they might hold back from expressing their feelings or making themselves known because they're worried about being turned down or disappointed. they might even think that you're not interested in them. but deep down, they're just waiting for the right moment to approach you. they're constantly weighing the pros and cons, trying to figure out if it's the right time to make a move. they're honest, respectful, and understanding, always making sure to think things through before acting. if they do decide to make a move, they might do something small, like giving you a little gift or offering words of support. they're witty and straightforward in their communication, preferring to be honest and open rather than playing games. they're also dedicated to their goals, patient in their approach, and focused on what they want to achieve.

channeled poem for you from your secret admirer;

[by f. scott fitzgerald]

i can't describe how i feel

but it's not quite right

and it leaves me cold

hey, pile three! your secret admirer seems pretty content with their feelings, happy to admire you from a distance. their emotions towards you feel genuine and sincere. right now, they might be going through some self-reflection or awakening, possibly because of their feelings for you. they feel like expressing their admiration for you could help them grow personally. however, they're having a tough time expressing their feelings openly. it's not that they're not interested—it's more like they're held back by their own thoughts. they might be dealing with self-doubt, fear of rejection, or other barriers that stop them from making a move. they have a strong intuition and are very in tune with their emotions. they're waiting for the perfect moment to reveal their feelings, trusting their gut to guide them. they're cautious about taking risks and may strive for perfection. it seems like they're holding back because they want to protect themselves. they're not the type to open up easily and may have some fears about being vulnerable. but despite all this, they're bold and assertive. they're not afraid to go after what they want, and they might even be planning how to approach you.

channeled poem for you from your secret admirer;

[i hear the birds sing by ashnalikyan, narine]

when i look at the sun

or the moon,

and listen to the birds

in the air,

i can't help but think of you-

how you light up the dark

and the day,

how even the smell of you

make flowers bloom.

297 notes · View notes

alta1red · 3 months

Text

HAZBIN HOTEL . IMAGINE . II 'The Darling Artisan from the Clouds'.

𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀 : [ NAME. ] Is exploring Pentagram City, and runs into a certain Radio Demon..

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮 : [ NAME. ]'s luck might either be the worst, or the best no in-between . Alastor being a creep . OOC Alastor . Small amount of dialogue .

𝑷𝑻. : II.

— Well, congrats ! You somehow managed to avoid probably all the wrong kinds of people in Hell ( that being certainly 99% of its total population.. ) , was it due to sheer luck? Or by some stupid twist of fate something else awaits you in your path? Maybe, maybe not.

• As you wandered the streets of Hell and witnessed around One.. Hundred incidents of violence, abuse, prostitution, people getting mugged and drug dealing —You remained peaceful (?), ( you held your art matierials closer to your figure. ) although your inspiration did take abit of a dark turn in its source. Your cloak, and subtle presence helped you alot in hiding your angelic features .

• But your presence certainly didn't manage to slip by a certain .. Shadow Minion of a Radio Demon.

• 'It', 'He'? Observed you with careful precision, you certainly didn't think you'd be able to just waltz around in Hell unnoticed, did you? As you wandered mindlessly through Pentagram City blissfully and ignorantly prancing around as you gazed at horrid theatrics.

• How interesting ! Oh how 'His' smile got even wider ,

• As you accidentally bumped into people left and right in the Enertainment District, you always muttered small apologies —As if the reciever was even sober to hear it.

• Your manners were impeccable, how kind of you ! It's almost as if you don't belong here.

• 'He' knows you don't.

• You feel it, the feelings been gnawing at your back for awhile now.. Someone has been following you, and so that's why you were practically near a sprint as you ran through Districts, and Border zones —Fully debating on using your wings to get away from 'It' entirely, but weighing the pro's and con's were obviously needed before taking such a drastic option and life threatening decision.

• And since you didn't want to be hunted down, or even worse —Reported to the King of Hell, you took alleyways and random directions hoping to run away and have its sight's lose you. ( Dumb Decision. )

• Now DEAR. You didn't think you'd run away so easily now do you? After all, the site of an angel after the extermination was worrying ! How he wanted to try Angel Meat —However, he must introduce himself to you first !

• As you ran into another alleyway —" Shit! Dead end — "

• A dark murky shadow formed behind you, your instincts caused you to turn into fight or flight mode — Your halo glowed violently reacting potently from your panicked emotions,

— START OF MEMORY.

" No need to act so —violently, My Dear ! " The Demon's voice had a static filter —possibly done on purpose, he donned a transatlantic accent —He felt powerful, yes —but you've been enhancing your ability, even when Heaven was probably the most peaceful place in the entire universe, despite the fact Adam caused a ruckus every now and then —but he's already dead, so peaceful it was once more;

The Demon found your panicked expression comedic, hilarious, fun.

Like Prey facing Predator.

Could it be you felt fear? Panic? Whatever it was, it was certainly messing with your train of thought— you needed to rationalize yourself !

Talking a sharp breath and sucking it up, you then inquired — " I'm so sorry Sir, I was just rather startled .. " Your tone was geniune, yes —But your actions certainly told what you actually felt —Your hands quivered and beads of sweat started to form under the hood of your cloak.

" What a frightened Swan ! What's an Angel like you doing here ? " 'He' mused, relishing within your frightened presence. Your gaze turned cold as you felt your sweat turn freezing, your jaw slightly agape—

You looked at him before saying, " —

— END OF MEMORY.

• Your encounter with the Radio Demon was far from pleasant, but you wouldn't admit it. It's not nice to do so,

—FIN.

#hazbin hotel x reader #Hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin alastor #hazbin x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin #yandere alastor #alta1red #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin x you #hazbin x y/n

216 notes · View notes

brcnze · 25 days

Text

but even after this, you’re still everything to me.

a/n: im not hugely keen on this but thought i’d post it anyway! i hate this luna fic drought we’re all in so much so here’s my contribution hehe! i’ve also only roughly read it through so please ignore any mistakes.

word count: 7.4k

but even after this, you’re still everything to me.

Everything was a constant reminder of her; the matching toothbrush that shared a home beside her own, the golden smiley face necklace that she had given her as a present because it reminded her of her smile, the excessive amount of half empty condiments still in the fridge, the little westie she saw every day after training and whom still got excited to see her.

Lucy was gone, but the memory of her was far from that.

It had been a grand total of six months since the defender had transferred to her new club. Six months since Ona had felt truly happy. She felt silly really, their relationship had started off as long distance and it was overly common to have to deal with it at some point being a sportsperson.

However, after living the dream life with Lucy for an entire season and becoming so accustomed to having her by her side day and night it utterly broke her when she left. It broke them.

She didn’t blame Lucy, she couldn’t. The defender had wanted to extend her contract with Barça but unfortunately wasn’t offered a renewal. The pair had cried many tears together when they learnt the news, less than ready to face being apart yet again. They spent evenings upon evenings going through offers that Lucy had received and weighing out the pros and cons.

In the end, Lucy settled on Bayern. She had offers worldwide, everyone unsurprisingly jumping at the chance to sign the talented right-back. However, Germany was the closest she could be to Ona and although swearing she would always put her career first, Ona was now her priority.

The day the older woman had left, the last time she closed the door to what had been their shared apartment, she had taken off with a promise. She promised Ona that they would be okay, that she would visit whenever she could and that she would never give up on them.

She kept that promise. Messaging and facetiming Ona at every opportunity, finding as many gaps in her schedule as she could just to fly over to see her, but Ona wasn’t strong enough. The younger woman couldn’t cope with the distance, she’d had a taste of a life with Lucy and having it ripped from underneath her sent her into self sabotage.

Lucy wasn’t stupid, she knew Ona like the back of her hand and so the change in her demeanour was picked up by her instantly.

“Is everything okay?”

Ona looked at her through the screen, the beautiful eyes she loved more than anything filled with nothing but concern. She went to nod, pretend that everything was fine, but it wasn’t and Lucy knew it too.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

The break up was filled with tears. None of the breakups the spaniard had been through had been pleasant, but this was so different. They were both still so deeply in love with the other, they wanted it to work but had both come to the conclusion that they were putting one another through more harm than good.

Lucy was the woman that Ona wanted to spend the rest of her life with. She knew that from day one, but for some reason the clouded thoughts in her brain persuaded her that it would be easier to give it all up rather than fight for it. It was completely out of character for Ona to just give up this easily, but she had never experienced a love like this and love makes you do crazy things.

She spent the rest of the night crying in bed, using Coco as a source of comfort. She didn’t think she could possibly feel anymore shitty until her phone pinged with a message, her heart physically breaking at its contents.

I promise this is the last time i will contact you, but i just had to say this before i let you go.The two years i got to call you mine were easily the best years of my life. I’ll never find another like you Ona Batlle and i hope more than anything that one day we find our way back to eachother. Thank you for everything. I love you, always.

Your Lucia.

They hadn’t spoken since.

Everyone told her it would get better after that, or somewhat easier. It never did. It had been months since the breakup and although she was able to force a smile onto her face at training, the facade instantly slipped as soon as she got a minute alone.

The team were at dinner together after being away for international break. Ona being forcefully dragged out by Mariona against her will after insisting she wanted to stay home. She loved being around her teammates, but the thought of socialising with anyone now aside from her dog felt utterly challenging.

She was sat beside Keira throughout the meal, not missing the concerned glances the ginger would give her every now and again. The spaniard envied Keira in a way, her being the only one on the team who got to see Lucy somewhat regularly. Tossing around a piece of chicken on her fork, she couldn’t help but allow temptation to get the better of her and ask the question on the front of her mind.

“How is she?”

Keira turned to face Ona, her eyes immediately softening as she took in her broken expression.

“She asked me the same question.”

The ginger smiled sadly, not forgetting the same sad look that was on Lucy’s face when she too asked how Ona was doing.

“Her and Georgia are thick as thieves now they play on the same team, but you should really message her yourself. I know it would make her smile from ear to ear because she’s missing you an awful lot.”

Ona hated the way her heart picked up upon hearing that last part. She thought she should be moving on, but it was impossible.

The midfielder didn’t miss the hopeful glint in her eye upon hearing how much Lucy missed her. Some may say it was odd how much care Keira had for her ex girlfriend and her ex girlfriends ex, but she couldn’t deny they were perfect for one another. Herself and Lucy had ended on the best terms possible and she and Ona had made her feel more than comfortable when they all played on the same team, actually forming a genuine friendship that they all valued.

“Long distance is hard, but it really is worth it if you love them enough. I wish more than anything that i got to see Laura everyday but everytime i do get to see her i’m reminded of why i do it.”

The spaniard let out a sigh, grateful for Keira’s kindness but also filled with the thoughts that she wasn’t strong enough to cope with it. She didn’t want to be the reason that her and Lucy both always felt an emptiness when they were apart.

“Thank you, Keira. She would be worth it, of course she would, but i’m just not as strong as you are.”

Keira wanted to argue it, convince Ona that she was indeed strong enough and that the heart ache would never actually go away if she just gave up. However, she also knew that Ona didn’t need to hear that right now, opting to just squeeze her shoulder and offer her a sad smile.

So, for the remainder of the football season Ona did her best to push her sadness to the back of her mind. There was no way she was going to be getting back into the dating scene, that wouldn’t be fair on her or a potential partner. Instead, she focused on finding things that made her happy again and partook in less moping around. She busied herself with old and new hobbies that she found she enjoyed and worked on her ever awful baking skills all the way up until the final match.

Her teammates noticed the change in her, and although the tinge of sadness never quite left, they were overjoyed to get a slice of their happy friend back. The euros were also fast approaching, and having played her last game of the 24/25 season Ona was feeling as ready as ever to play for her country.

The tournament was being held in Switzerland, and having visited a few times already Ona was excited to return to the beautiful country. Amongst the excitement of it all, the spaniard hadn’t even thought twice about the fact that Spain obviously weren’t going to be the only country in attendance. It wasn’t until she was sat on the plane next to one of her best friends, Salma, that the realisation hit her like a ton of bricks.

“You think you’re going to be okay, Oni?”

Ona had given her a questioning look, taking out an airpod to try and gauge what she was referring to.

“Seeing Lucy again and everything.”

That’s when it hit her.

She’d tried to force herself to stop thinking about Lucy as much. She attempted the classic out of sight, out of mind approach and although it hadn’t worked and she still thought about her every single damn minute, she hadn’t actually taken into consideration the fact they were going to be more than likely less than five minutes down the road from one another for the next few weeks.

They hadn’t ended on bad terms at all, the last message Ona received from the english woman being nothing but adorable. However, that didn’t prevent the nervous feeling growing in her tummy at the idea of seeing the woman she loved so dearly after so many months.

“I hadn’t actually thought about it.”

Salma noticed the way her friend was nervously picking at her nails now, placing her hand atop to offer some comfort.

“It will be fine, you don’t need to worry. It’s not like it’s going to be awkward between you or anything.”

For the remaining duration of the flight, Ona couldn’t help but allow her mind to spiral about what seeing Lucy again would be like. She was excited in a way, she missed the older woman more than she ever knew it was possible to miss a human, but she also was filled with nerves.

Herself and Lucy had always struggled to stay away from one another. They were like magnets from the day they met, drawn to one another instantly when in close enough proximity. It was one of the things that made Ona realise just how deep her love for her was, never before being a very physical person.

The spaniard allowed her mind to wander all the way up until she reached her hotel room. The girls all got their own rooms now, which she appreciated for the privacy but also missed the company.

Ona collapsed straight onto the white sheets and as soon as she unlocked her phone, almost immediately found herself mindlessly scrolling through Lucy’s instagram, something she definitely didn’t do on the regular, and smiling to herself at the pictures. Lucy was the most beautiful woman on the planet in her eyes and she couldn’t help but want to appreciate that.

As she scrolled down a little further, she came across her favourite collections of photos. During their relationship they both had agreed to keep it private, but not a secret. So, something they both had enjoyed doing frequently was complying pictures for a photo dump that gave the teeniest subtle hints of the other.

They resembled school girls whenever they’d hit the post button, giggling away to each other about the hidden meanings behind each photo they had chosen.

As she refreshed the page, scrolling back up to the top, she came across a new photo she hadn’t seen before. It had been posted only twenty seconds ago and showed Lucy, grinning widely at the camera as she stepped off a plane. Ona missed that smile more than anything, not being able to stop herself from zooming in to get a closer look at her favourite eyes. She missed looking into them without the preventative barrier of a screen more than anything. However, what she definitely didn’t intend to do at all was like the photo.

As soon as the red heart splayed across the screen, she froze.

“Mierda!”

She muttered to herself, shutting off her phone instantly. It really wasn’t that big of a deal. All she’d done was press the like button, but knowing it was after only twenty seconds of being posted made her internally cringe.

She wasn’t a huge instagram user at the best of times, only really going on there to promote games or post a few photos herself. She rarely ever liked posts and Lucy knew that. It had become a weird sort of game for them both, Lucy knowing that if she ever received a like from Ona it meant that the spaniard had really, really enjoyed the photo.

After a few minutes of cursing herself, face buried into her hands, she felt her phone buzzing multiple times from underneath the pillow she had shoved on top of it.

Lucy Bronze liked your post.

She knows she shouldn’t but Ona couldn’t help the smug smile that wiped across her face. She’d been in the same country as Lucy for approximately an hour and already she couldn’t keep away.

She stared at the collection of notifications, knowing Lucy knew exactly what she was doing and contemplated messaging her. She was weighing up the pros and cons in her head before she finally came to the conclusion of…fuck it.

Stalker.

She kept it short and a reply came almost instantly.

If i remember correctly it was you who liked my post first, within a minute of it being posted may i also add.

You looked nice.

She was feeling brave, eagerly anticipating Lucy's response and not being disappointed when it came through.

So did you.

The spaniard hovered her fingers over the keys, preparing what she wanted to say next when her phone began to ring with a facetime request. She knew who it was before even reading the ‘Lucia’ followed by a pink heart, that flashed up. Ona knew it was a bad idea to answer the call, but it was a bad idea to send her a message in the first place, so to hell with it.

As the screen filled with Lucy, she opened her mouth to speak but was immediately silenced by the sight. The defender had her hair down and splaying across her shoulders, her glasses resting perfectly on the bridge of her nose, a content smile on her lips. She must’ve noticed Ona’s trance as what was a smile turned into a smirk and she took the words right out of her mouth.

“I’ve missed seeing your face.”

Ona blushed at that, mirroring the smirk that Lucy was giving her.

“You are in Switzerland now, too?”

Lucy nodded, “We arrived a couple hours ago. How have you been?”

The pair spoke for hours, but it felt like minutes. Everything always felt so easy with Lucy, and Ona had missed the lighthearted conversations they would share. It was nice to talk to someone and not feel like she was pretending for once. Lucy could tell just by the younger girls' mannerisms that she wasn’t totally herself and she too wasn’t totally herself either. Neither woman had been since the day they had broken up.

Lucy had craved seeing Onas smile for months, but the fact it didn’t quite reach her eyes anymore didn’t go unnoticed by her. She kept pressing her on whether she was really doing okay, and upon being met with an unconvincing nod for the third time she asked her to see her tomorrow.

Ona was sceptical at first, knowing that she would likely break down at some point if she was to see Lucy. However, the opportunity was unlikely to become available again anytime soon so she had to grab it with both hands. She chose to ignore how impossibly further back that would set her on her attempts at moving on, and she honestly couldn’t bring herself to care.

“You’re really up for meeting tomorrow, yeah?”

Lucy questioned, a little taken aback that Ona had actually agreed.

“Si, i would really like to.”

After saying goodnight to Lucy, Ona couldn’t quite comprehend the fact that she would be seeing her tomorrow. She tossed and turned in the hotel bed, thinking about how long it had been and what she was actually going to say to her.

When realisation had hit her on the plane earlier that day that they’d be in the same place, she didn’t think for even a second that tomorrow she’d be willingly meeting up with her. Just the two of them.

The thought of being next to her and not being able to call her love, rest her head in the crook of her neck, trace the outline of her wrist tattoo the way she loved, kiss her senseless seemed impossible. She and Lucy had been drawn to each other from day one, never ever being just friends and always being one hundred times more than that. However, she would have been a fool to turn down her offer after craving just her presence for so many months.

It’s safe to say she went to sleep with Lucy, and Lucy only on her mind that night.

Ona was convinced she had never gotten up and ready faster in her life the next morning. Herself and Lucy had agreed to grab coffee and just go for a stroll around a local park, close to both of their hotels. It was crazy to think that they actually used to do this most days together, and it was now that Ona realised how much she took the most simple of things for granted.

She didn’t plan on telling anyone that she was going to meet Lucy, not wanting to answer any unwanted questions. However, the ridiculously wide smile for only eight in the morning didn’t go unmissed by Mariona.

“What’s got you so smiley chica?”

Ona turned to give her a small shrug.

“Just excited for tomorrow’s game.”

Mariona narrowed her eyes, not believing a single word.

“I know that smile. That’s your Lucy smile, have you seen her?”

The brunettes eyes widened. She loved how close she was with her teammates, but the fact they could analyse her moods this in depth and with such little information made her wish they didn’t know her quite so well.

“How did you kn-“

Mariona cut her off.

“You’ve been a lot happier these past few weeks Oni, but we can all tell it’s a little false. You haven’t looked as happy as you do this morning since Lucy left Barça. Now you’re in the same country and suddenly you’re like the gato de Cheshire!”

Ona sighed in defeat, there was no way she could argue with that.

“Okay fine, you got me. But i haven’t seen her yet. I’m meeting her after breakfast and it’s just as friends, sadly.”

The forwards grin widened even more, impressed with her ability to guess correctly and also happy that two of her best friends would be reuniting again.

“Do you think it’s a bad idea though? I want to see her so badly but i’m…scared.”

Mariona met her with a sympathetic smile, grasping her hand that was nervously picking at her t-shirt.

“There’s no need to be nervous, guapa. I know, we all know, how much you have been missing her and this is the greatest opportunity. Besides, you and Lucy will get back together one day. I know everything, remember.”

Ona let out a huff of a laugh, shaking her head as she got up to scrape the remnants of her breakfast into the bin.

“Gracias, Mario.”

“Don’t have too much fun, Oni. Oh and when you’re done with her tell her i’d like to see her too!”

Mariona called out after her as the spaniard made her way outside with a fond chuckle and a ‘si lo que sea.’

As Ona made her way outside, she stood by the fir tree tucked around the corner from the Spanish girls hotel. She and Lucy had agreed to meet there and so she busied herself with scrolling through her emails she had neglected whilst she waited. She had so many feelings. She was nervous and excited all at the same time, but thankfully the anticipation was cut short as a deep, familiar voice called out to her.

“Ona?”

Her head snapped up at the English accent, emails immediately forgotten.

As soon as she looked into those beautiful eyes properly for the first time again in too many months she felt as though she could turn into a human puddle.

“Hola, Lucia.”

Lucy smiled at the nickname, all the feelings she had been desperately trying to keep bottled up spilling out. She let out a deep sigh as she took in the woman in front of her.

“Wow, i- i can’t believe you’re here.”

Ona mirrored her smile, nodding her head in the direction of the park to begin their walk together.

They chatted non-stop about anything and everything, never once enduring any type of awkward silence and everything felt just like it had many months ago. Lucy brought them

both a coffee, ordering exactly what she knew Ona liked and ignoring the spaniards insistence on paying.

As they carried on, coffees in hand the pair reached a bench in a secluded area, opting to sit down for a while.

“So, how is it at Bayern?”

“It’s okay. The girls are lovely, it’s nice to have Georgia there as a familiar face, but i miss being in Barcelona a lot.”

“I bet you just miss the sun.”

Lucy let out a chuckle at that, knowing how much Ona used to tease her that she was more English than her as Lucy was always such a baby whenever the temperature dropped below twenty five degrees.

“Well that’s a big part of it, yeah. All it does is bloody rain in Germany, but I also miss the food, the views, Narla, the girls…you.”

Ona’s breath hitched a little. It felt as though she and Lucy had silently agreed not to divulge into their feelings, but knowing she missed her made her heart beat that little bit extra.

She looked her dead in the eye, her own eyes softening at the small expression on her face. The spaniard couldn’t help but reach her petite hand out and place it on Lucy's knee and as if by reflex, Lucy’s hand came to rest on top of Ona’s.

“I miss you too, Lucia.”

Ona swallowed deeply, looking down at their hands as Lucy began to rub small circles across her knuckles. It took every strength within her body to restrain herself from leaning forward and attaching their lips, so instead of doing that she tried to divert the conversation in a different direction.

“So, you don’t have a new girlfriend then?”

The Englishwoman let out a rumbly laugh at the question, deeming it as absolutely ridiculous.

“Don’t be stupid, course i don’t.”

“Well good, i was just checking.”

“Good? Why, what would you have done if i’d said yes?”

Lucy was smirking at her, the smirk that almost always had Ona on her knees.

“Tell her to, how you say? Back the fuck off.”

She knew she should tone down on the flirting, only setting herself up for more pain in the near future. But when Lucy was looking at her like that with that smirk on her face she simply couldn’t help herself.

“That’s hot” Lucy murmured.

Ona couldn’t wipe the grin off of her face, not missing the way Lucy was now trailing her fingertips up her arm. Until, all of a sudden reality came crashing down on her.

It was almost like for a split second she’d forgotten about the fact they weren’t actually together anymore, they’d fallen back into their usual ways the second they’d reunited and it was only now that Ona had to remind herself the woman beside her wasn’t hers anymore.

“Hey, you okay?”

Lucy asked, evidently concerned as the spaniards smile had faltered and her eyes had filled with sudden sadness.

Ona nodded, trying but failing to keep the thick hot tear that now trickled down her cheek at bay.

“Woah, woah what’s the matter?”

The defenders eyes widened, her hand immediately coming up to rest on the small of her back. The sudden change in Onas mood scared her beyond belief, there was nothing she hated more than seeing her in any sort of discomfort.

“It, it’s just-“

She began, stuttering her way through the answer.

“For a second it was like I completely forgot.”

“Forgot about what?”

Lucy questioned, her voice soft and hand never stopping it’s comforting movements across the small back.

“That we aren’t us anymore. I’ve only been with you for no more than an hour and it already feels like the old times again.”

Ona let out a long, shaky breath, desperately rubbing at her now reddened eyes to stop the tears. As she blinked her way through them, her vision becoming a tiny bit clearer, she focused on Lucy, and the way she was looking at her as if she was the only thing that mattered sent another fresh pang across her heart.

“Oh, sweetheart.”

The lioness pulled her into her chest, Ona not even trying to fight it and allowing her head to rest there. She sniffled into Lucy’s training shirt, relishing in the familiar smell of her perfume as she allowed herself to calm down in the embrace.

“It’s so hard, so fucking hard. You have no idea how much I miss you every single day.”

Lucy whispered as she stroked her hair, scratching at her scalp lightly in the way she knew always brought her comfort.

The two women made no attempt to move for a good few minutes, Ona’s sobs finally subsiding as she chose to fully focus on the way Lucy's fingers felt brushing through her hair. She lifted her head from the comfy spot on her chest, sitting back against the bench as Lucy’s eyes followed her with concern.

“Lo siento. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, it’s good to talk about your feelings. You can’t bottle them up all the time, it’s not good for you.”

Ona looked at the ground, not being able to meet Lucy’s eyes again. Her willpower was declining and she knew that as soon she looked at her face again, she would be pressing her lips against said face.

“I need to go.”

“Already?”

Ona nodded, standing up from her spot and any glimmer of hope that Lucy had felt was immediately gone.

“Please don’t just walk away from this, we’re both hurting Ona and it’s not just going to go away.”

The broken tone in Lucy’s voice made her feel all different types of guilt. Deep down she knew she was being stupid. She could get back with Lucy and feel ten times happier, but there was something inside her convincing her she would just be putting them both through pain.

“I’m sorry but I think this was a mistake.”

She walked away without another look back, tears spilling down her cheeks as the sad look on the Englishwoman's face was etched into her mind. Nothing was ever a mistake with Lucy, the only thing being her own actions.

As soon as she entered her hotel, heading straight for the lift she was spotted by Mariona.

“Ay, Ona! Esperar!”

Her teammate called out, chasing after her with a grin on her face that quickly turned into confusion upon seeing her tear stained face.

“I messed it all up, it was going so well and then I just freaked.”

Ona was a blubbering mess as Mariona followed her into the lift. She pulled her into her embrace, rocking her side to side and tried to provide her with the reassurance she needed.

“Come on Oni, tell me what happened.”

Hours had passed and Ona was still trying to explain the internal battle that was going on in her head. Mariona was being so kind, carefully listening to the explanation and offering the best advice she could muster up.

“Do you really not think making it work long distance is an option? You both love each other chica, and that’s how you started this.”

“I know and I feel so stupid. So many people have to do it, you do it. I think i’m just craving the old life we had.”

Mariona nodded in understanding.

“I understand, but it is important to remember that it’s not forever. I miss Lia all the time, but I know that one day we will have the life together we always talk about.”

Ona smiled a little at that, suddenly feeling terrible for rambling on and not asking about her friend's life more often.

“How is Lia?”

“Buena. I’m glad i finally get to spend some time with her here, it makes it all worth it.”

Ona couldn’t help but remember back to her conversation with Keira a few months ago, the ginger saying the exact same thing. The two friends continued their conversation way into the night, both reminiscing on the time both Lia and Lucy had come to watch them play in the nations league final. The spaniard was so grateful to have friends as understanding as her team mates.

Spains first game was the next day and they absolutely flew through it, just like they did the whole tournament really. The euros went by so fast and before she knew it, Ona was preparing for the final game. The final game that was against none other than England. It was like des ja vu for the whole team, except this time around Ona wasn’t giddily messaging her girlfriend the morning before.

After her conversation with Mariona, she had decided not to message Lucy again during the tournament. She had wanted to, felt the need to apologise for the way she took off with barely an explanation. However, she also didn’t want to mess with her head during such a big competition, and figured it would be easier for both of them to have their full focus on getting a win for their country. She had decided she wanted to make a go of it though, nothing could be worse than the feeling she already felt every day. She just hoped and prayed that she wasn’t too late.

As soon as the Spanish team arrived at the stadium they were ushered out onto the pitch to perform their pitch inspection. The England team were already out there and before Ona could even search for Lucy she was being dragged into a hug by Ella.

“Ona! I’ve missed ya.”

The strong northern accent boomed, still never being able to pronounce her name correctly.

“Ah, Tooney. It has been too long.”

Ona replied as she felt herself being slowly lifted off of the ground by the girls strong hug. They caught up for a few minutes, Ona spending most of it in hysterics over whatever Ella was talking about. Until the inevitable question came up.

“You gonna go speak to Bronzey?”

Ona sighed, looking across the grass where she finally found the woman in question. She was chatting to Alexia and Laia, donning a wide smile that Ona wished she was the cause of.

“Si, i will actually. It was nice seeing you though and good luck tonight.”

Ella ruffled her hair before making her way over to Lucia, deciding it was time to pester her now and once she disappeared Ona looked back over at Lucy to find her now alone, scrolling on her phone.

She took a deep breath and made her way over, stopping right in front of her.

“Hola.”

Lucy looked up from her phone, swallowing deeply as she met her eye.

“Oh, hey.”

It was colder than Ona was used to, colder than it had been when she’d seen her only a few weeks ago.

“How are you?”

Lucy nodded, “Im fine. You?”

The spaniard couldn’t hide the hurt on her face now and just simply nodded. She had never been spoken to by Lucy this bluntly before and she instantly felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes.

“I missed you.”

She desperately tried, hoping Lucy would give her something back. She could see the slight break in her demeanour after that, her eyes somewhat softening if only a tiny bit.

“Good luck tonight.”

Was Lucy’s response and as she tried to make her way past her, Ona grabbed her hand. Lucy looked down at the grip Ona now had on her wrist, almost breaking at the way her thumb cascaded across it gently.

“Please, don’t be like this.”

“Like what, Ona? You’ve made it perfectly clear we can’t be together so I don't know how you want me to act?”

There were tears filling in the spaniards eyes now, unable to look anywhere but Lucy but feeling her heart break even more at the hushed way she was shouting at her.

“Im sorry that i ran off the other week. I was scared, Lucy and i didn’t want to hurt either of us anymore than i already have. I just want-“

She was cut off by the whistle, summoning both teams back inside.

“Please, just let me explain after the game.”

Lucy looked down at the way Ona still had a hold of her wrist and then back up to meet her eyes, nodding slowly before she had to walk away and rejoin her England team mates.

Ona let out a deep breath she hadn’t even realised she’d been holding as she walked her way back into the changing rooms. She didn’t really know what she expected, but it definitely wasn’t that. The younger girl couldn’t blame Lucy for being distant with her, but that didn’t make it hurt any less when the one thing she wanted more than anything in the world was Lucy.

When the teams lined up side by side in the tunnel, Ona couldn’t help but turn around to look at Lucy. Though when she turned and found her eyes already on her, she wished she hadn’t as how was she supposed to concentrate on the game now?

It was even worse when she made her way down the line to give hand shakes and high fives to the England team. When she got to Lucy, last as always, she couldn’t help but hold onto her hand for a second longer than what was probably deemed acceptable.

Lucy gave her hand a small squeeze, and there was evidence of a tiny smile growing at the corners of her mouth as she mouthed ‘im sorry.’ This was all the reassurance that Ona needed to go out and play this match.

Little did Ona know that Jordan had been silently observing their interaction during the pitch inspection. She had questioned Lucy on it as soon as they had taken their seats in the changing room.

“What was all that about?”

“What d’you mean?”

Lucy had responded nonchalantly.

“All that out there with you and Ona. Why are you giving her the cold shoulder?”

The defender shrugged, “I'm not.”

Jordan rolled her eyes, "I'm not as stupid as you think. You’ve been non-stop going on about her since the day you broke up, so why were you acting like that?”

“Because I love her Jord, okay? I love her and every time I think about her it bloody hurts.”

The Aston Villa players' face softened, remaining quiet so that Lucy could carry on.

“It hurt me so bad when I last saw her. I thought for a split second there might’ve been a chance but she made it perfectly clear there wasn’t when she upped and left. So, I thought that maybe this time if I was blunt with her, didn’t give her much conversation then I wouldn’t be opening myself up to feeling even more like shit when she inevitably walks away again.”

Jordan let out a sigh, wrapping her arm supportively around her shoulder.

“She seemed like she genuinely wanted to talk to you, Luce. I couldn’t hear what she was saying obviously but maybe she’s had some time to think and genuinely wants to give the long distance a go.”

“Yeah, maybe, I don’t know. I told her i’d speak to her after the game so I just need to focus on getting this win first.”

The game was a tough one to say the least. The world cup champions against the european champions was never going to be a walk in the park, but Ona found she thrived off the intensity. She was playing well, her whole team was playing well and were fuelled by the excitable crowd. However, a last minute goal by Lauren Hemp meant that England had done it for the second time.

The spaniard laid back on the grass, absolutely exhausted from the ninety six minutes she had just endured. She looked around at all of her team mates, noticing the defeat and sadness in their eyes as they hugged one another. As she looked in the other direction though, she caught sight of the England girls with a much different expression on their faces. They all looked so unbelievably happy, tears shed out of happiness rather than sadness which was a huge contrast to the world cup.

She immediately caught sight of Lucy, never failing to be impressed by her ability to always pick her out instantly no matter how many people she was mixed in with. She looked happy, so happy, as she lifted Alex into the air and Ona couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

She hauled herself up off of the pitch, deciding it was best if she went over to console her team mates who had taken the loss particularly hard. Ona was gutted of course, she was as competitive as they came and wanted to win everything she took part in. However, seeing the joy on Lucy’s face eased the disappointment a pretty large amount, which was a fact she would definitely not be sharing with her girls.

Once she’d done the rounds, giving pats on the back and assuring the team that they did their best she caught sight of a shirtless Lucy standing in front of her. It was safe to say her mouth fell visibly agape as her eyes couldn’t decide whether to fix on the woman’s eyes or her abs.

“Im sorry.”

It sounded like a double meaning apology. For the coldness Lucy presented her with earlier, and also for the fact that her team had just beaten Ona’s. She decided to focus on the last part though, if her mind could possibly focus on anything other than the abs staring her right in the face.

She shrugged, “it’s okay, you all deserved it.”

“So did all of you though, you’re a hard team to beat.”

Ona smiled a little, enjoying the sight of the well-deserved gold medal that hung proudly around Lucy’s neck.

“This is for you.”

Lucy said as she chucked her match worn shirt into Ona’s hands.

The spaniard couldn’t help the smug smile that wiped across her face. Ever since the world cup final, Ona had held a pretend grudge against Lucy at the fact she gave Mariona her shirt and not her. Mariona and Lucy thought it was hilarious and would tease her about it all the time, but Ona could not for the life of her understand how she wasn’t the one trading shirts with her own girlfriend.

“Oh, you don’t want me to get Mario? So you can trade with her instead?”

Lucy smirked at her, letting out a huff of a laugh, “well actually, now you come to mention it-“

“Don’t you even dare.”

Ona interrupted, lightly slapping her on the chest.

She took her own shirt off then, handing it to Lucy as she replaced the Spanish jersey on her body with an England one, adorned with ‘Bronze 2’ on the back.

The wide eyed look on Lucy's face and the way she scanned her body up and down certainly didn’t go unnoticed by Ona. Who took it upon herself to give a small twirl so she could see the name on the back.

“Suits me?”

Lucy had to bite down on her own lip to physically stop herself from drooling. She had just won back to back euros, yet she felt like she’d well and truly hit the jackpot seeing the pretty spaniard with her name on her back.

She nodded and lightly took a hold of Ona’s arm, discreetly pulling her away from the pitch and down the tunnel away from prying eyes and cameras. Ona didn’t know what was happening, so when she was dragged into an empty medical room she looked at with a confused expression.

“Im sorry for how I acted with you earlier.”

Lucy blurted it out fast, as if she was scared if she didn’t say it soon enough Ona would be ripped away from her again.

“It’s okay, I understand. I didn’t give you an explanation last time and I am sorry for that.”

Ona looked up at Lucy, delicately intertwining their hands that were dangling by their sides. When she felt Lucy grip on tighter she stepped forward, further into her embrace and reached her other hand up to tilt her chin down to look her in the eye.

“I want to make this work. I thought I was doing the right thing by letting you go, but it is completely impossible to move on from you.”

Lucy pulled her impossibly closer as Ona carried on.

“I get it if I'm too late and you don’t want this but-“

The older woman decided she couldn’t wait any longer. She pressed her lips against Ona’s before she could even finish her sentence, the younger girl sighing happily into her mouth.

Ona reached both her arms up to wrap them around Lucy’s neck, interlinking them at the back to pull their bodies even closer. She let out a deep moan as the older woman pushed her further back against the wall, her strong hand sneaking up the England jersey Ona wore to scratch dully at her abs.

Ona parted her lips only slightly at the sensation, giving Lucy enough access to slide her tongue into her mouth. The room was filled with heavy breaths and pants, both women’s hands not being able to stop exploring the other's body as they had been deprived for so long.

Lucy finally managed to pull away from Ona’s mouth, but only to attach her lips to the inviting skin on her neck. She trailed hot, open mouthed kisses all the way up to her favourite spot behind her ear.

“I want this.”

She whispered, taking a tiny nip.

“I want you.”

Another kiss.

As the Englishwoman made her way back down to Ona’s jaw they were startled by the door swinging open, forcing them both apart and none other than Mariona walking in.

“Mierda! ¡Lo siento, chicas!”

She hurriedly said, hands covering her eyes.

“You can open your eyes, Mario.”

Lucy said with a chuckle as the Spanish woman slowly blinked one eye open to check it was safe before removing both of her hands entirely.

“You see Oni, I told you I knew everything! Oh and congratulations Lucy, I'll come and see you once you’re done…here!”

Mariona said before winking at Ona and exiting the room.

Ona let out a huff of a laugh, wrapping her arms tightly around Lucy’s waist as she lay her head on her chest.

“What was she on about?”

Lucy questioned, stroking her hands through Ona’s hair as she felt her grin against her chest.

“Oh, nada.”

She pulled her head out of Lucy’s chest, looking up at her with a look that could only be described as utter adoration.

“We are going to alright, aren’t we Lucia?”

“As long as we’ve got each other we’ll be fine, princesa.”

#lucy bronze #ona batlle #lucy bronze x ona batlle #woso fanfics #mariona caldentey #jordan nobbs #angst with a happy ending #fluff

136 notes · View notes

gale-dragon-writer · 2 months

Text

Guardian Zestial Pt 1

Something that has somewhat been living rent-free in my brain for a while.

}I{

When Charlie was an itty-bitty little babe, Lucifer started worrying about his precious little girl getting in trouble. Since Razzle and Dazzle aren't in existence yet (idk how old these two are or when Charlie got them as her servants/bodyguards), the King of Hell started looking for a suitable bodyguard that could double as a caretaker. The tricky bit was looking for someone who wouldn't try to use Charlie as leverage because this was Hell.

Therefore, Lucifer made a very detailed list of criteria that he wanted for this Protector for his precious little girl. Someone strong enough to protect Charlie from any type of threat within Hell, wouldn't use Charlie as leverage to get to Lucifer, wouldn't harm Charlie in "Any" way, could care for a child, smart enough to be a tutor if needed, and most importantly, someone Lucifer could genuinely trust.

Simple list, but given that this was Hell, that was a tall order. So Lucifer created little "Speye Ducks" to search the entire Pride Ring for his precious daughter's perfect protector.

Thankfully, none of the denizens of the Pride Ring noticed the Speye Ducks; if they did, they either didn't care about them or thought they weren't worth their time.

It takes a year or two for Lucifer to find some potential guardians for his precious little daughter. A handful of Sinners and a few members of the Goieta. The biggest issue was whether or not he could trust any of these potential guardians. Therefore, Lucifer created a plan to test these potential guardians. An easy test of trust on paper, but easy to fail.

Lucifer summons these people (separately) and gives them a sealed envelope, telling them that he needs them to deliver this secret letter to a potential grand commander for the army he's planning on making. Lucifer makes it a point to tell them he trusts them with this valuable information and not look at it. He sends them off after he tells them where this "commander" is. Once he gives all the potential Guardians the test, he teleports himself to said location and waits.

All but one failed the test. Zestial.

He is the only one to take a moment to weigh his options regarding this 'information', considering the pros and cons of looking at the 'information' and following Lucifer's orders. Seeing that it would be more beneficial to have the Ruler of Hell's trust in his corner over a glimpse at something that would possibly become public once the 'army' was established, Zestial proceeded to deliver the envelope to its destination without opening it.

Zestial is understandably surprised and confused when he arrives at the location and finds Lucifer there.

Lucifer congratulates the Overlord on passing his little trust test and then proceeds to tell Zesital why he did this and why. Ofc, Zesital is confused by all this.

Lucifer goes into more detail on his desire to have a perfect guardian for his precious daughter and why. He explains how Zestial fits the criteria he's looking for and wants him to be that guardian, and ofc Lucifer isn't asking Zestial to do this for free.

So they talk for a while to iron out this little Deal. For the care and protection of Charlette "Charlie" Morningstar (plus the possibility of being a teacher to her), Zestial will earn Lucifer's backing as an Overlord, given protected areas during the Extermination in his territories for the souls that he owns (not the entire territory because that will be too obvious to others in Hell and the Exorcists, but scattered across it in easy to access areas), and the access to the Morningstar Mansion to him and anyone he holds close to his heart. Ofc, Lusicer makes sure to put in the contract that Zestial couldn't use any personal information he gains while at the Morningstar Mansion or while caring for Charlie. Both beings keep their souls.

After solidifying the contract for the Deal, both Lucifer and Zestial agree to it and seal it.

It doesn't take too long before Zestial becomes attached to the cheery little toddler while in his care. While bitty Charlie didn't enjoy the screams of the denizens of Hell, she seemed to enjoy the teas that Zestial brought. The little tot was more interested in the sweeter teas than the bitter ones.

It doesn't take long before Zestial brings little Charlie (maybe when she's 6-7ish) over to the Carmine Family for a get-together. Odette and Clara were overjoyed by the fact that they could be big sister figures to Little Charlie. Carmilla is understandably confused by this, at least until Zestial confides to her about his little charge while the children are playing. Ofc, Carmilla gives him a 'what are you thinking?' talk. Zestial understands his friend's concerns and explains why he accepted the Deal, adding that he asked for Lucifer to also place a Safe Zone in the Carmine Residence and that little Charlie might as well be his little goddaughter. Carmilla couldn't help but agree that the youngest of the Morningstars was easy to love and was willing to look after the youngling in case Zestial was busy, somewhat adding that her daughters would be willing to look after her too. (Family Bonding!!)

Over the years, Zestial learned more about the Morningstars as well as somewhat became part of the family.

But the more subtle yet information Zestial gained came specifically during and after the Extermination. He saw how much the Morningstars loathed that day. Charlie was more obvious about that since she was still pretty young and didn't understand what was going on. Lilith seemed to get irritable. And Lucifer was... Complicated... He seemed to have this strange combination of anger and sadness when this day came around... Zestial watched these moments from the shadows for years, unsure how to broach the subject.

Until one year when the Exorcist decided to have the Extermination a week early when Zestial was out and about with the Carmine Family and little Charlie for an afternoon stroll in a bizarre to get some supplies for said event. The attack was sudden and there was no real time to take cover for anyone. However, Zestial was quick to act and used his powers to grab the Carmines and little Charlie and then teleport them all into the Morningstar Mansion with only seconds to spar.

Ofc, Lucifer is confused by their sudden presence and asks what was going on. When he's told about the early Extermination, Lucifer goes through several different emotions in a matter of seconds. Sock, disbelief, worry, relief, anger, and resentment in that order. Little Charlie rushed into her father's arms in tears, still terrified over the whole ordeal.

That was when Odette and Clara shouted at Lucifer, asking him why the hell he allowed the Exorcist to do the Extermination every year before Zestial and Carmilla could stop them.

Lucifer quickly snaps back in anger, "You really think I want this shit to happen!?" The ruler of hell then says in anger, "But does Heaven listen when I suggest any alternative solutions?! NO!! They don't give a crap!!" Lucifer hugs his confused daughter closer when he says softly, "All I was able to do was make sure they leave the Hellborns alone..."

The Carmine Family and Zestial... Did not know how to respond to this... Reveal... But due to Lucifer and Zestial's deal, this information stays between them. Never to be told to anyone outside the Morningstar home...

A few years go by, little Charlie starts spending a little more time outside the Morningstar mansion. But most of that time was either with Zestial or the Carmine Family, learning a lot of useful skills. Charlie learned about conjuring magic from Zesital while she learned combat and weaponry from the Carmines. It didn't take too long before she could handle any type of threat on her own, mostly. Charlie was still an oddly kind-hearted soul for a hellborn and princess of hell. Zestial usually takes care of the would-be assassins behind Charlie's back by using fear tactics.

To be continued in pt 2.

#hazbin hotel #Zestial #hazbin zestial #Hazbin Charlie #Hazbin Hotel Charlie #Hazbin Lucifer #canon divergent au #Rough outline #Hazbin Hotel Lucifer #Hazbin Hotel Zestial #carmilla carmine #odette carmine #clara carmine

76 notes · View notes

sapionic · 1 year

Text

Placements In Taurus

Astrology information about SOME(not all) placements in Taurus. If you don't see a particular placement, it's intentional, not accidental.

Taurus Sun ♉ ☀️ As a Taurus Sun, you're born during Taurus Season which means your life will be centered around earthly pleasures and striving for stability and maintenance in your life. You're likely always busy doing many things and being engaged with many different situations. You usually don't have a problem with meeting people and creating friendships. Multiple income streams comes naturally to you and plus you're likely to have friends that introduce you to things anyway. Your daily circumstances are changeable and as a fixed sign, you'll have to master some flexibility to maneuver these changes that's bound to happen regardless if you're ready or not.

Taurus Moon ♉ 🌙 You're naturally grounded in yourself around anyone. You're comfortable in general and always striving to maintain that comfort. You like environments that are jolly and lighthearted in nature. You feel stable when you're stimulated. You like good food and you're likely to become better at cooking if it doesn't come naturally to you. You're emotionally motivated to create a home for yourself that you can feel proud about. You're naturally receiving attention although it's not what you're striving for. In family settings, the attention may go to you.

Taurus Mercury ♉ 🦜 You're naturally grounded in your beliefs and may have a one track mind or a main way of thinking. Once you're having a conversation with someone, you probably can talk a mile a minute. You're comfortable in your voice and what you have to say. Your voice is calming or soothing. Your speech is clear and notable. Your tone may increase in volume around people you're comfortable with or family. You are probably more animated with your family. You make logical decisions.

Taurus Venus ♉ 😍

You're likely into yourself so much that you maintain your cleanliness and appearance. You are naturally good at having a clean look about you and presenting yourself with tact when it comes to appearance. This same thing attracts you to a person. A person that can keep themselves up is great. Upon making connections, you definitely like to keep your options open, but as things develop into frequency, you open up and can be more nurturing in these connections. You have a soft spot for the people you connect with habitually. You enjoy skilled cooking/food and also enjoy indulging in it with the people that matter.

Taurus Mars Before you take action, you consider the logical reasoning behind it. You are likely not quick to do something unless you truly feel you want to and have considered it worthy. You're meant to take action in a slow manner. You're meant to weigh pros, cons, and possibilities. You're likely always buying and eating foods that you like as if it's mandatory. You're someone that has to warm up to situations which is why people shouldn't take you for granted. Likely attracted to people who have a laid back persona.

Taurus Rising

You're naturally independent and focused on your responsibility of the moment. You're patient when it comes to doing what needs to be done. You come off very direct and practical. You're likely always surrounded by your siblings. They are a big part of your daily life. You may help them or even make decisions for them or because of them. They're your first friends and then you make your actual friends. If you aren't the one cooking, you're helping cook. You're likely very bold in family dealings and can be counted on to hold the family together in some way. Your life experience becomes fiercely about structure and serious matters. There could be certain situations that happened in your life that felt practically tough, but you're likely to overcome those things a huge deal. You have a social disposition so people won't consider the many things you've dealt with, but you'll always likely have a clan of people by your side.

#astro community #astrology #astro notes #astro placements #astro rambles #natal chart #taurus mars #taurus #taurus mercury #taurus sign #taurus sun #planets #zodiac signs #zodiac

164 notes · View notes

pawborough · 7 months

Text

Hello, all! Thank you for the patience at the later update! It's my goal to get them back on track with updates on or near the 10th. We waited this month for two reasons:

1. A few artists went on short hiatus, leaving less to show on the art side.

2. We're focusing a great deal of manpower towards the Cat Creator, including hand-selecting every color and its accents for each gene, balancing the wheel choice in our new system, and full steam ahead illustrating coverage and patterns you all are familiar with on new poses. We are MIGHTY proud of our work, and feel all the effort going into colors and genes will pay off, but there's not a lot to show off until the huge update (aside from a very extensive and colorful spreadsheet. We are drowning in hex codes!) Our wheel is truly like no other in its aesthetics, but it is taking a healthy amount of effort.

It was for this reason that we chose to wait until there was a bit more content to show. Next months update may be smaller as we get back on track to the 10th of every month.

We have great news on what we have completed!

First, let's look at some art!

New Fauna

More backer sponsored Fauna!

Starchaser

Sponsored and concepted by J. Tazer Pones, designed and illustrated by Hydde

Irimar

Sponsored and concepted by Isb, designed and illustrated by Hydde

Glasswing

Sponsored and concepted by SolsticeStar, designed and illustrated by Hydde

And here is a peak at what's being lined currently!

Icons

How about those icons? We think they're coming out quite charming!

Squid, Bok Choy, Wool, Feathers, Hay, Pebbles, Clay, Cream, Brick, Salt Lick, and Sulfur, illustrated by Remmi

Backdrop WIPs

We're chipping away at backdrops! Here are a few work in progresses!

WIP Luna theme header by Runeowl and Mirko

WIP Harvest theme header by Runeowl and Harriertail

WIP Flower Meadow by Harriertail

UI Updates

Next, we're pleased to share what we feel is a fantastic final for our UI layouts.

Cat Creator

The cat creator went through the industrial meat grinder of testing and iteration. We had several prototypes working, all with pros and cons. A lot of consideration went into user experience, including:

Ensuring the least amount of clicking to see all the options, while still categorizing the content intuitively

In tandem, best utilizing the space to show the most amount of content at once, giving as many options as possible

Help the user best understand the relationship between what is being clicked and what is changing on the cat, with ease of navigation between each option

Give the user an easily accessible "summary" of each trait, color, and pattern that was chosen for the cat

Find an intuitive way to express the "Saturation / Luminosity" relationship on each color choice while not overwhelming the screen with jumbles of words

We are still toying with colors and superficial visuals, but this is the final layout being built!

The "Summary & Navigation" section will showcase what traits the cat shown is sporting (ex. Ragdoll Adult, Orange Solid, No White, Traditional Eyes.)

On mobile, the trait summary is represented by a third icon option the user can click. Otherwise, a mobile user can toggle between color and pattern for each section.

You also will see a color navigator with buttons for every hue, and symbols for "saturated," "dark," "medium," and "light."

Some of these options may seem incongruent from the current creator. Most notably: two accents!

It may seem like a damning choice. Really, more colors to worry about?

As a reminder, we will be grouping colors to allow for a larger chance at complementary colors (we are not ridding the chance at full randomization, just weighing it more equally against a large number of coordinated options.)

Furthermore, we are adding both line-breaking accents and very, very minor accents like ear fluff (we figured out a way to group it with mystic breeds), skin colors, or freckles on the skin. This was the best direction for both creative freedom and restriction among these options.

The largest worry we had when considering this decision was user pressure to utilize every slot on the cat. This was at the forefront of our minds all throughout PB's concepting!

As a solution, we are taking a design approach which will encourage users both to use and not use accent slots, depending on the character they are building. We have a reward system in the works which incentivizes both routes! As a character building game with focus on your characters and near limitless possibilities, we are designing a system which values cats and rewards the player not necessarily by abundance in design, but direction and creativity.

Simply put, building a cat the way you like it will be rewarding. This system will be unveiled at a later date, but it's great addition for the casual, creative, and breeding side of the playerbase! All of this combined made the most sense for a second accent.

Cat Profile

This is halfway built on the front-end, and will be done very soon!

Breeding

Big news, generative breeding functionality is done!

We wrapped up the breeding logic, and banged out what I believe is an excellent UI. Everything is fully functional!

Users can view not only a rotation of offspring previews, but view all the colors available to the offspring in each slot.

As well, users can choose what Borough their cat nests in as a premium feature. This includes a "traveling" option which randomizes the Borough for each potential kit!

Also in the preview is the nest tending page. Nests are tended to with items, and users can add midwives to forego the need to manually give said items. This mechanic is being built out!

I realize these previews might look abysmal. We want to be transparent on what we're doing and show "the sausage being made" per se. What's missing from these deployments currently is final pattern assets (previews are dummies for function testing), theme assets, icon placements, and hex codes; all things that aren't actually slowing down development on the technical side. They are very quick inserts once completed, and while it looks like a mess, this page is 99% done!

It's one step closer to a live update on the website!

We're working next on finishing the cat profile build, the customize functions (scene building, outfit building), and the daily item garnering mechanic!

Thank you everyone!

To Summarize: We shared new Fauna, icons, backdrop work-in-progresses, the final cat creator UI, the cat profile UI, and a look at our completed breeding functionality.

What to expect next month: Further asset renderings, outfit/scene building design, further functionality previews of what we are working on next.

#kickstarter update

73 notes · View notes

zeldahime · 3 months

Text

Highway to Pail Day 13

[Day 1] [Prev] [Next] @do-it-with-style-events

February 13: How do you turn a demon into an angel? Scare the hell out of them.

If you asked if Crowley feared Hell, he'd figure you were an evangelical Christian and give you the fright of your life by saying something like "Hell? Hell is empty. All the devils are here," then turning his head into a snake. Yes, Crowley knew that line was from one of Boring Bill's plays and not even a funny one, but he'd told Aziraphale he'd fed Bill that line in a bar in 1610 and had stuck to that story ever since. (Aziraphale knew better, because dear old William had tested that line on him in 1607, but he also thought Crowley was ever so charming when he was lying and so had never called him on it.)

If Aziraphale had asked him, Crowley would tell him he really wasn't that scared of Hell, honestly. Not to say he enjoyed the place, but you knew what to expect from them, knew where you stood. He knew how they monitored him and that they didn't usually bother with it; he knew more or less what punishments which Dukes and Princes liked to inflict on their underlings and how best to avoid them. He'd tell Aziraphale, honestly he'd been more scared in Heaven towards the end there, watching his friends Fall and suddenly knowing Her love was conditional, and he'd know Aziraphale would understand the depth of that fear because Aziraphale had watched him Fall. It would be meant as a reassurance. Aziraphale, who had been fearful in Heaven long before the Fall and the War and to whom the Fall was actually a perverse relief—so he hadn't been worried about nothing, so his anxiety was rational—would not be reassured.

Crowley would be lying, but don't hold it against him: he wouldn't realize it, which is the scariest part.

In reality, he was terrified of Hell.

He'd been scared of Hell for so long it formed the foundation for most of his actions and thoughts, and much like you don't ever think about what kind of foundation your house is built on, Crowley just didn't think about it very much. For example: he kept an insurance policy because Hell was dog-eat-dog, or demon-eat-demon, and anyone who caught him with Aziraphale would come after them like that Frou-Frou guy had and he needed a way to defend himself. Clear, logical, no emotions involved in this reasoning really as far as he was concerned. He did not follow this train of motivations any further. If he'd gotten off just one stop further down the line, he'd have noticed that the reason he needed a way to defend himself was because punishment is unpleasant and he didn't want to deal with that, and another stop might have suggested, so, one of your motivations here, if you'd please let me finish speaking sir, might be fear of punishment?

Crowley rarely took trains of thought all the way to the end of the line, and so very rarely did he ever actually think about being scared. He sometimes considered how much things would hurt if he got caught, weighed it in a pros and cons list, but never connected that thought to fear of getting caught.

The lead-up to the Apocalypse was different. Things he didn't even know he could be scared of kept popping up, like a really unpleasant random jack-in-the-box. He was scared when Warlock was little and threw a fit, certain he'd say something like "I hate you Nanny! I wish you'd never existed!" and he'd be wiped from reality. He was scared when he was waiting for a hellhound at a birthday party and scared when it no-showed.

He was scared when he saw the bookshop on fire, no Aziraphale in sight. He had never even thought of the possibility of the bookshop catching on fire, not really. It'd been a joke, calling the place a fire hazard or a death trap to rile Aziraphale up a bit when he was tipsy. He'd known down to his bones that Aziraphale would never let his books burn.

It wasn't until the night after the first day of the rest of their lives that Crowley realized just how scared he was, and as soon as he realized he'd had that thought, he'd buried it as deeply as he could.

Because that night, he'd dreamed of Heaven for the first time.

Maybe it was because of the switcheroo they'd pulled, going up to Heaven in Aziraphale's corporation. Maybe it triggered some memories, or something. Heaven yesterday hadn't been anything like Heaven had been Before. Before, it had been full of warmth, and other angels, and the Light of God, not a cold empty office space ripped directly from a skyscraper in New Jersey. He'd spent most of his time in the firmament back then, but he'd thought of Heaven as home, a safe place to come back to, where he could talk to his pals and play games and rest. It had already begun shifting away from that long before the Fall, of course, but it had gotten so much worse since.

On the very first night of the rest of his life, Crowley's dream was his earliest memory. God had called his Name, the one he'd have ripped away from him when he Fell, and he had sprung into existence with Love in his heart. Another angel had called to him and told him about stars and nebulae and the Grand Design and Crowley had Loved them, in awe of these things they described. It was so simple. He dreamed of other times in the Before, conversations with other angels about what if we did it this way, or changed that. A conversation where he wondered why the stars would be so far away from the humans, why they would be extinguished so soon when they could burn for billions upon billions of years. He remembered curiosity, friendship, play, all free and unfiltered and simple.

He remembered the first time he felt fear, when Lucifer said that other angels disagreed with them and there was going to be a fight, and explained what a fight was.

And then he woke up, and he realized he was deeply afraid, and had been for most of his existence. This was very unpleasant, and changed absolutely nothing except making him skittish at exactly the time he could most benefit from the habitual recklessness he'd begun to nourish over the last few centuries.

It didn't even change what he'd tell Aziraphale if Aziraphale had asked the question, as described above, because whether or not he was telling the truth was pretty much unimportant, he'd think; the important part would be reassuring Aziraphale, since the angel was much more emotionally fragile that he was.

Aziraphale had known all along, of course, which is why he'd never asked. Some things were best left unaddressed, in his opinion. Crowley seemed to have it well in hand, dealing with his eternal fear in a healthier way than Aziraphale's own anxious paranoia, so often overcoming it to be braver than Aziraphale could ever be.

They were, of course, both totally wrong.

#my writing #do it with style events #highway to pail #crowley good omens #character study #i'm not sure what i think of this tbh #concrit welcome on this one #with the understanding these are just exercises where i am typing directly into the post box and publishing with zero edits

21 notes · View notes

imakemywings · 11 months

Photo

Fandom: The Silmarillion

Characters: Maedhros, Lalwen, Fingon, Nerdanel

Summary: Maedhros considers the role of sex and romance in his life and receives support from unexpected quarters.

AN: Something for @aspecardaweek! More notes on AO3.

WC: 5,281

AO3 | Pillowfort | SWG

_______________________________________________________

Maedhros did not yet have Grandfather’s skill for keeping his face neutral. He did have his own parents’ penchant for strong emotions and so the sense of annoyance which permeated his clipped pace down the palace hall was plainly apparent. Even the swish of his robes seemed to speak to an immediate, if mild, irritation.

The heat of Valinor’s soft summer was creeping up over Tirion, which meant most of the palace was out-of-doors, except for Caranthir who was likely tucked away somewhere with a book or a preserved insect, and Maglor, who was either “composing” or languishing artfully on a pile of pillows (these were not always distinct and separate acts), and so perhaps Maedhros was less careful than he might’ve been with the usual palace audience around to provide a bevy of useless commentary. He slid open one of the side doors and slipped out onto the rail-less porch, throwing himself down on the edge with an air of petty temper.

The fresh air almost immediately took the edge off. In the lush palace gardens he could hear the call of birds and the rustle of the fresh green leaves, still tender with new growth. The lychee trees were starting to sway with the weight of fruit and the smell of the flowering plants perfumed the air. Maedhros leaned back against one of the posts supporting the eaves. Curufin and the twins were out with Atar for the day, which meant there was no childish yelling this side of the palace, though if Maedhros listened carefully, he could hear some of his youngest cousins elsewhere on the property.

“You look rather troubled, little one.” The low, smoky voice took him by surprise, partly because he was not often in conversation with his aunt, who bled out of the bushes with a idly curious look. “Who’s put this look on your face?”

“My brother,” Maedhros groused after a pause.

“That still leaves quite a few options,” said Princess Lalwen with a slanting smile, perching on the edge of the porch with one leg tucked beneath her. Her nut-brown skin was already taking on the darker hue of summertime and judging by her dress and the dearth of gems in her hair, he guessed she’d been on an early morning hiking or hunting trip.

“’tis nothing,” Maedhros demurred. No need to go airing family laundry, even if it was the relatively harmless kind. Besides, Aunt Lalwen always looked like she was searching for a secret—to what end, Maedhros couldn’t say.

“If it were nothing, you would not be troubled,” Lalwen said. Maedhros, ever the pragmatist, visibly weighed the pros and cons of sharing—and how much—with Lalwen. Truthfully, he didn’t know her well enough to make much of an estimate. She was often in Tirion, unlike Aunt Findis, but also often in the company of Uncle Fingolfin, which meant not in the company of Atar and Ammë (or their children).

“Kanafinwë is…immature, I think, at times,” said Maedhros at last. “It causes a great deal of trouble for him and for many around him.”

“Little brothers will be that way,” Lalwen said sagely, nodding. Maedhros must have looked skeptical, for then she said: “You doubt it? Arafinwë was a terrible tattle when he was little. Nothing could you tell him if you did not wish to get back to Ammë within the hour. Thank Ilúvatar he grew out of that!” A faint smile crossed her face. “And if you were inclined to ask, it is possible that Arakáno and Findis might have their own stories of me to share.” Maedhros assumed Atar went without saying.

“Kanafinwë is old enough to know better,” said Maedhros with a frown. The antics of a child were one thing—Maglor was a grown adult, if a young one. Lalwen canted her head to the side and her eyes flitted off into the vegetation. She had Fingolfin’s eyes, the same brown that turned gold with just a bit of light, framed in lashes brown where Fingolfin’s were black.

“A little brother is always a little brother with his older sibling,” she said. “At least a little bit.”

“He makes a mess of his own life and then comes to me wailing about his misfortune!” said Maedhros, remembering his annoyance anew. “He never listens to me! Why tell me these things if he refuses to take my advice?”

“What has he done now?” Lalwen asked, and still on the tide of his temper, Maedhros said:

“He does the most foolish things wherever a comely Elf is concerned and he seems to seek the chance to make a mess of things! He can never settle on one thing to want, and as soon as his desire is within his gasp, he loses all interest in it!” A more tempered Maedhros would not have shared, but he was doubly irked because Maglor had recently borrowed several of his favorite hair pins without asking, and had left one of them behind with his tryst, whom he insisted he could not speak to again to get it back. “Already he has a courting companion, yet he has been seeking the company of another!” Now he felt he had to explain the rest.

“For ages did I listen to his laments about trying to win the heart of Culuina, and at last they were courting, and finally they had stopped fighting, and now he tells me he has been seeking the attentions of someone from the actor’s guild! He tells me how this Elf has no interest in him and looks right through him as if he were not even there, and he tells it with a shine in his eyes more than when he ever talks about Culuina anymore! I told him to be happy with Culuina after he spent so long in pursuit of her, but did he listen? Of course not! And rather than end their courtship as might have been honorable, now he chases down some other, like a greedy hunter!”

After this little tirade, Maedhros fell silent, flinty gray eyes narrowed, remembering all over again why he was so cross.

“How can he complain so when he’s done this all to himself? Culuina was happy with him at last, but now he’s ruined it! I don’t understand him at all.”

Lalwen shrugged.

“You know how Kanafinwë is with a pretty face. Arakáno says he’s been that way since he was young,” she said. “How old was he when he told his music teacher he would marry him?” Lalwen smiled indulgently, but Maedhros was not willing to fondly reminisce now (for the record, Maglor had been eight).

“There’s no sense in it!” Maedhros fumed insistently. “He had what he desired! And for what does he tell me these things if he never heeds my advice?”

“Perhaps he seeks only a listening ear,” Lalwen suggested.

“Nay, for he asks my opinion!” Maedhros objected. “But then he pays it no mind!”

“What advice gave you to him?” Lalwen asked.

“That he should be content with what he has!” Maedhros’ jaw clenched. “He sought so ardently after Culuina, how can he set her aside so easily? And for one who cares not for him in the slightest? So what if he has a pretty face? Culuina does as well!”

“You seem rather indignant on her behalf,” Lalwen said with seeming amusement.

“Hardly,” said Maedhros. “I have exchanged not entirely ten words with her. But Kanafinwë is a prince of the Noldor and should behave better.” Lalwen tipped her head from side to side.

“There’s not much sense in it, is there?” she said.

“None!” Maedhros said. “He loses his head entirely about romance; it’s as though he lapses into madness! How is it that so many Elves lack any kind of sense or restraint about these things?”

Lalwen was looking at him then in a way that made Maedhros remember he did not usually speak of family matters to others (even other family). There was something appraising in her look that made him decide he had said too much already and he regretted it at once. Maglor made enough of a fool of the house without him elaborating for others.

“Forgive me though, for taking so much of your time, Aunt,” he said, lowering his head and then rising to his feet, his voice at once level and impassive again. “I should not have troubled you with such trivial matters.”

“No trouble, Nelyafinwë,” she said. “I believed I came from a big family until I saw your parents’ penchant for children.” She chuckled a little. “I cannot imagine having had six brothers! Three was quite enough for me.”

“Most often they trouble me not.” Maedhros murmured out the lie. “I should have less of a temper with him.” Another lie—he believed he had every right to be just as irritated with Maglor as he was. But he should not have shared it outside the house; it did nothing to improve their image.

“What one struggles to understand may often prove an annoyance,” Lalwen posited after a moment. Maedhros gave her a critical look, then bowed his exit and went back inside. Conversations with Lalwen had a way of making him feel he had missed something, and it was not a feeling for which he cared in the slightest.

***

“Maitimo.”

Maedhros refocused his eyes on Ammë, dredging himself up out of his thoughts.

“I did not move,” he said.

“You are making a face,” said Ammë. “Why this air of sullenness?” Falling out of his pose, Maedhros rubbed the heel of his hand between his eyes.

“’tis nothing,” he said. “I’m only tired.”

“Well, if you keep making that face, the sculpture will wear it too,” said Ammë, tapping her pencil pointedly against her sketchpad. “Oh. Sometime has it been since I saw that look.”

“No ‘look’ do I wear,” Maedhros insisted, resentful of the whining note that crept into his voice. Only Ammë could bring it out.

“There is a look,” she said. “So what is it?”

“As I said before, nothing.” Ammë flipped closed her sketchpad.

“I think we shall be done with this for today,” she said. “If you still wish to help, perhaps you can help me cut wood for the kiln.” With a sigh, Maedhros rose in acquiescence and they went out into the yard, where Ammë handed him an axe.

He was still ruminating on his conversation with Lalwen, and the sense that she had seen something in it he had failed to notice, an idea which peeved him to no end. Furthermore, it was bringing to the forefront of his memory the handful of instances in which Maglor, no doubt in an effort at brotherly camaraderie, had attempted to return the favor that Maedhros granted him in listening to his woes by asking Maedhros about his love life, a line of questioning that invariably made Maedhros both queasy and ill-tempered. If he was feeling particularly adventurous, Maglor would probe into Maedhros’ various relationships, seeking some hitherto hidden romantic intention which Maedhros insisted did not exist. Most recently, he had seized on the notion of Maedhros’ friendship with Ingwion as something that might bear fruit, a suggestion which Maedhros had been too embarrassed to even mention to Ingwion, even to have a laugh at Maglor’s efforts.

Ammë set a log down and Maedhros raised the axe. In a sense, there was something calming about the repetition of it.

Whack, whack, whack.

Maedhros hated not to understand things—it was something Grandfather had once said he shared with Atar. And what he didn’t understand now was how he could be the only one with any sense about relationships—how could everyone else be so careless and obsessed? He had even seen Curufin making eyes at other Elflings his age. When Maedhros had been Curufin’s age, the thought of romance hadn’t even entered his head! It had been as alien to him as the notion of childbirth or property taxes. Back then, he had assumed it was something that would simply come with age. Eventually, he told himself he was a late bloomer, and perhaps just needed more time to come into it than others (another idea which unsettled him—he also misliked the thought of being late to anything).

Whack, whack, whack.

Then, when he determined he must be fully matured, he theorized he simply had not met the right person yet. This made perfect sense. Maedhros was discriminating in taste about nearly everything—why should he be less particular about his romantic partners? He needed to give himself time to meet someone who could pass his standards, and then would experience one of those head-over-heels crushes which people waxed poetic about. After all, Grandfather said that Atar had had next to no interest in courtship of any kind until he met Ammë, and then everything had happened rather quickly.

Whack, whack, whack..

He supposed this theory still wasn’t disproven, but there was an uneasy feeling in his gut that he might be waiting for something which would never come. Technically, there was unlikely to be harm in this, but Maedhros did not like things unsettled. He wanted answers, cut and dry. He wanted to know where he stood. But how did one prove an absence of a thing? And what did such an absence mean?

Whack, whack, whack.

“Does this seem enough to you?” Just as Maedhros was pausing with the axe, Ammë spoke. He observed the pile of wood so far and flexed his hand against the shaft of the axe.

“Perhaps a few more,” he suggested. Ammë looked at him rather than the wood and nodded.

“Yes, I agree,” she said, and set down another log. When Maedhros had split the last of them, he felt that some of the tension in his shoulders had dissipated. He rolled them to loosen the muscles. In an uncharacteristic display of gentleness, Ammë placed a hand against the back of his head and pulled him down until she could press a fleeting kiss to his copper crown.

“This will do finely, Maitimo.” She slapped his shoulder as she drew back. “Now go on, I do not believe you shall be any more help to me today, and as I recall, you have your own work which needs doing.”

Maedhros groaned. He really had been overthinking all this if he’d forgotten, even for a moment, about that blasted essay.

***

“Yes, this is much better,” said Professor Lastarion while Maedhros intermittently held his breath as part of an effort not to fidget while sitting in front of the professor’s desk. “You have still some gaps in logic here, but this is much better.” His eyes flicked up to Maedhros’ face. “They are small, but closing them will make for the neatest possible paper. This is quite good on its own, but I will insist you see to these before the compendium’s publication.”

Having his work published would more than make up for all the effort that had gone into it, including the many late nights he had spent working by candlelight. It was something he had yearned for since his first works had gone into the student publication during his years as a pupil of the university. He had been pleased with those then, but now, to be published as an adult scholar—!

“Leading a reader through your argument is like…”

Leading a horse, Maedhros finished silently to himself.

“…leading a horse,” Lastarion finished aloud. “The slightest hole might result in a snapped ankle.” This was where the metaphor tended to fall apart for Maedhros. “You want to take your readers in an unbroken chain from point A to B to C to D…” He waved his hand in a flowing gesture. Maedhros nodded tensely, waiting for any more concrete feedback.

“It’s quite well-reasoned as a whole,” Lastarion went on. “In fact,” he said, meeting Maedhros’ eyes directly, “I believe it will be the centerpiece of the volume.”

“Thank you, professor,” said Maedhros breathlessly, feeling his heart stop for a moment.

“It has the possibility to be truly remarkable, which is why I have nitpicked so many things on it,” he said. “With a few fine-tuning touches, it will be the jewel in the crown, so to speak.” He passed the paper over to Maedhros. “Have a look at my notes. Connect these last few gaps and you will have a final product to be quite proud of, Nelyafinwë.”

“Thank you,” he said again, taking the paper, his heart jumping as if he had run up a flight of stairs. “I will see to it immediately.”

It wasn’t until he was out of the professor’s office that he let the grin spread across his face. Published! There would be something to talk about at the next party!

***

The summer sun was just edging towards too warm against Fingon’s exposed arms and legs as he lay back in the golden grass, tossing his ball up and down. He kept his eyes closed so as not to be dazzled by the brightness of the sky, but he was so familiar with the weight and fall of the ball he did not need to see it to catch it each time it came back down towards him. The thrust and fall of it was relaxing; the repetitive flexing and bunching of his well-trained muscles lulled him into calm. There was a faint breeze rustling the grass, which occasionally blew over him and swept away the worst of the heat, keeping him comfortable. Overhead, birds caroused, wheeling this way and that, occasionally dashing across the tendrils of wispy clouds that were all that marred Valinor’s skies that day. It was entirely peaceful and Fingon let out a deep breath of contentment.

Ah, but Maedhros was still talking.

“Well?” he was saying, and Fingon realized he had let slip by a crucial moment to interject with a sympathetic or disapproving noise (whichever was most appropriate) and now was being asked a question. “Am I wrong?”

He caught his pigskin ball and opened his eyes, turning to look at Maedhros’ pale, vexed face.

“Well of course you’re right,” he said. “If Makalaurë listened to you, he wouldn’t be in half as much trouble.” When he had missed a cue, it was always good to fall back on “you’re right.” That usually calmed Maedhros down.

“I told him this would happen,” he griped, and Fingon debated whether he could inquire into what “this” was without revealing that he didn’t already know.

“You know Makalaurë,” he said with a somewhat indulgent smile. “Foresight is not his gift.”

“Foresight! I would gladly settle for common sense!” He snorted. “The way this city gossips—and he thought Culuina wouldn’t find out about Eteminion?”

“Well…” Fingon began, then trailed off, not sure if Maedhros would appreciate his speculating on the less-than-admirable behavior of his brother.

“Well what?” But Maedhros would not let a thought go unsaid once it had been hinted at.

“Perhaps he wished for her to know.”

“Wished!” Maedhros exclaimed. “Why would he wish for her to know he had been unfaithful to her?” Fingon shrugged.

“Perhaps he wanted their courtship to end and knew that she would do it herself if she knew,” he said. “Or perhaps he wanted her attention.”

“He was courting her,” Maedhros said. “In what way did he not already have her attention?” Fingon shrugged and started tossing his ball again. “Do share your thoughts, Findekáno,” said Maedhros, and Fingon could hear the annoyance in his voice. A smile twitched on Fingon’s lips.

“Perhaps Makalaurë enjoys the turbulence of his relationships,” he said. “Perhaps he thought if he riled Culuina this way, it would inspire her to passion.” Maedhros was looking at him like he had just suggested they test whether the Children of Ilúvatar had the power of flight, an expression at which Fingon couldn’t help but laugh as he sat upright.

“Passionate in her anger with him, perhaps,” Maedhros said. Fingon shrugged. Anger was passion, of a sort. “For what could he ever want such a thing? I think you have been laying in the sun too long.” Fingon laughed again.

“Is it so hard to understand?” he said. “Never have you wished to make another jealous to prove their affection for you?”

“Never!” said Maedhros, looking perfectly appalled. “Have you?”

“Once or twice,” said Fingon, shrugging one shoulder. “Never have I done it thought—it is rather immature, is it not? Although for Eteminion?” He grinned. “He would be worth the effort! Have you seen him on stage? There is an Elf who knows passion!” Maedhros was still looking at him like he’d gone crazy. “No? You find him not attractive?” he said.

“I never thought about it,” said Maedhros. “I do not watch plays to drool over the actors.”

“Are you accusing me of drooling, Russandol!” Fingon laughed. “One can appreciate both the art and also the bodies behind it!” Maedhros’ look had gone sulky, the way it did when they spoke overlong of issues concerning romance. “Perhaps you and Makalaurë simply cannot see eye-to-eye on this,” he suggested.

“I think perhaps we cannot,” said Maedhros quietly, picking at the grass. “It makes no sense to me, Findekáno, not even when you speak of it.”

“What doesn’t?”

“The way people behave when they find another attractive,” said Maedhros. “How do they manage to lose all sense of reason?”

“That is nature of love and sex,” said Fingon with a little smile. “It renders one a little insane…but that isn’t always bad. One may enjoy a touch of madness.” Maedhros was just looking at him, indirectly, still tearing at bits of grass.

“It makes no sense to me,” he repeated, softer still.

It took Fingon a moment to gather that perhaps Maedhros was trying to tell him something. (He was not always very good at picking up on these things, which Turgon had told him.) Sobering, he folded his legs, setting his ball in the space between.

“You know,” he observed after a pause, “I believe Auntie Irimë is that way.”

“What way?”

“I mean, that she agrees with you. She is unwed,” said Fingon. “And I have never known her to express a desire for it.”

“Aunt Findis is unwed also,” said Maedhros.

Fingon shrugged.

“Auntie Findis has always been a bit aloof, has she not?” Maedhros was shredding a long blade of grass between his fingers, a furrow between his eyebrows. Aunt Findis also spent a great deal of time out of Tirion, and was not in general inclined to discuss such things around her nieces and nephews, which made it harder to guess at her stance.

“Russandol,” said Fingon, and when Maedhros was looking at him, he pitched the leather ball right at Maedhros’ face. His nose was spared the unfortunate content by his quick reflexes, and then he glared in a way that would have made their cousins cower (it was rather reminiscent of Uncle Fëanor).

“What was that for?” he demanded.

“You are thinking no longer about your problem, are you?” said Fingon cheerfully. “You’re welcome!” The ball clocked Fingon in the head right before Maedhros tackled him.

***

It pleased the king to host, as frequently as he could, large dinners for the entire extended family. Atar always insisted they were there, to a man, and there was little that could excuse one from the event—academic demands were about the only thing. Grandfather Finwë would throw a celebratory dinner for nearly anything—Princess Findis visiting from Valmar or the start of a new season or a grandchild getting a particularly good grade or Atar finishing a new project—but often he hosted them for no reason at all. That night’s dinner was one of that sort.

The dining hall was bedecked in lanterns alongside the lamps of Atar’s design and the seats around the table had been cleared to allow family and guests to take food and wander at will. Maedhros and his brothers, as always, were dressed to the nines, as Atar would not tolerate them arriving at any event of his father’s smirched in soot or dirt, or dressed unsuitably. The particular headpiece Maedhros had chosen for that night demanded he move with stately grace, or it was going to fall off his head and with the weight of it, probably take out someone’s foot in the process. (It did look very fine though, and he had spent several minutes in front of his mirror admiring the effect.)

Choosing the right time to approach Lalwen meant not accosting her as soon as they arrived, while ensuring she wasn’t able to slip off before Maedhros got to speak with her. It would need to look natural—he was not interested in anyone else thinking he had cause to seek out his aunt. For a few moments he lingered around the wine with Maglor, to reassure him that there was nothing amiss between then despite Maedhros’ earlier annoyance. Maglor was then distracted by one of his many musical rivals and disappeared to go boast under the guise of conversation.

When Maedhros did approach Lalwen at the table, he didn’t get his greeting past his lips before she said: “You took your time.” Then she turned to look at him, seeming amused with his expression. “I will give your subtlety is much improved on that of your brothers, but your eyes have been burning a hole in me since you arrived, Nelyafinwë.”

“You knew,” he said, deciding Lalwen did not need a lead-in. Lalwen shrugged.

“I theorized,” she said.

“But you said nothing of it. Why?” Lalwen added a few more dumplings to her plate and considered.

“You seem to me rather reserved,” she said. “And we have not spoken much. I did not think you would appreciate my theorizing, nor take it to heart. Some conclusions we must reach on our own, in our own time.” Maedhros was somewhat troubled that she had gathered so much about him despite the brevity and infrequency of their interactions.

“And are you?”

“I am,” she said, flicking her eyes up to him.

“How did you know?” She shrugged.

“It is harder to see a lack of a thing, but at some point, it becomes apparent. Anyway, it is not as uncommon as you might think. It is simply not spoken of.”

“And…Aunt Findis is…?” Lalwen let out a burst of laughter.

“Findis? No, not her. She’s only excessively particular—about what is she not particular—and will take only women as long-term partners.”

“Does…do people…know?” he asked.

“About me?” she asked. “Some do. Some may have guessed by now. My siblings know. But,” she added abruptly, holding up a finger, “that was by my choice only. Such things are private, and no one has a right to know what you do not wish to tell. This you should bear in mind, Nelyafinwë. To none do you owe answers or explanations about this. If I may offer counsel, as your aunt, little though I have taken the role—” This being the fault more of Atar than of Lalwen, Maedhros suspected, for she was close with both the children of Fingolfin and of Finarfin, “—let no one pressure you to speak when you would not. Your heart is your own business, and no one else’s.” She turned to go, paused, and glanced back. “There are many kinds of love. An absence of one does not mean an absence of all.”

Then someone was waving her down from the side of the hall and she departed with a last glance at Maedhros over her shoulder. In pensive silence, he took a few pork buns and meandered off out of the way of those trying to reach the table.

Witnessing Elves in the bliss of courtship and wedlock, it was easy to feel cheated. Taking in the countless works of art labored over with such effort and devotion for the sake of romantic love—for a particular paramour, or simply for the notion of it—it was hard not to be frustrated at his own lack of perspective and understanding. Hearing the way others spoke of romance and of marriage—how could he not feel the rest of the world was in a joke he simply didn’t get? Yet Lalwen seemed content.

“Russandol!” He recognized Celegorm’s excited call as he tore himself out of his thoughts. His brother was coming towards him with an ear-to-ear grin that usually spelled Trouble, and even more concerning, with him was Fingon, who rarely spent time in the company of Maedhros’ brothers, less still without him present.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

“Not what I’m doing,” said Celegorm in a poor pantomime of innocence. “What Findekáno and Irissë are doing.” Maedhros’ eyes snapped over to Fingon, who grinned.

“And what are Findekáno and Irissë doing?”

“Grandfather has some fireworks from your father he has saved for a special occasion,” said Fingon.

“And?” said Maedhros.

“And Irissë and I have decided tonight is a special occasion,” said Fingon.

“And why is that?” Fingon shrugged.

“Because it is!” he said. “Tyelko is coming with us. Are you? When the party begins to wind down?” Maedhros scrutinized the pair, opposed in so many ways, but united over the opportunity to make things explode in pretty colors. They were both grinning at him, pleased as a bird on the wind with the prospect of their stolen pyrotechnics.

“Come on, Russandol!” wheedled Celegorm. “Come with us! It will be such fun!”

“I suppose I shall have to,” Maedhros sighed with feigned resignation. “Someone must make sure you burn nothing down by mistake.” Fingon pumped his fist in triumph.

“I shall come and find you when we’re ready!” he said, hurrying off for more food. Celegorm flashed a double thumbs-up and went to go steal sweets from Caranthir. There were plenty on the table, but he insisted the ones he took from their younger brothers and cousins tasted better.

The Arafinweans were in from Alqualondë for at least the next few weeks, which meant Maedhros could pick out their golden heads among the rest of the dark-haired Elves. Finarfin himself was there with Fingolfin, debating over what to take from the table, while Queen Indis leaned over the table to remark to them both. Finrod was over by a window with Turgon and a friend, where they were all in animated conversation about something, which presently involved Turgon using cheese cubes to make a demonstration (Finrod gave a wave when he saw Maedhros looking in their direction). Aunt Eärwen, warmly tanned after several months in her hometown, had her had bowed by Aunt Anairë’s, speaking lowly as they did when they wanted no one to intrude on their conversation. Atar was crouched beside Grandfather’s seat, listening attentively to whatever was being said, while Finwë observed his guests. Aegnor and Amrod were either playing or squabbling, it was hard to say, and either way it was happening perilously close to a pedestal housing a priceless vase. Lalwen was leaning back against a red column in easy conversation with the friends who had summoned her away from him before.

Something which had been tense in Maedhros for some time relaxed slightly. Ammë had warned him he had a tendency to overthink things and while he privately considered Ammë habitually underthought things, perhaps in this instance, there was truth there. Maybe Lalwen was right—maybe he was too worried about something that did not bear worrying about.

His bigger concern, in all truth, needed to be making sure Fingon did not set those fireworks off around a building.

#aspecardaweek #aspecardaweek2023 #maedhros #fingon #lalwen #lalwende #nerdanel #the silmarillion #tolkien tag #fanfiction #tolkien fanfiction

53 notes · View notes

neon-junkie · 2 years

Text

The Bad Batch's reaction to you being childfree!

500 words. Gender-neutral reader. I’ve seen so many reactions to you wanting children, so it’s time us childfree folk received a little love.

Hunter - Relieved, to say the least. Hunter has so much on his plate, both before and after Order 66. He has 5 (give or take) other squad mates to take care of, and adding an infant to the mix? Omega is more than enough, despite the fact that she's his sister, not his child. He simply can't handle another mouth to feed, let alone all the extras that come with it. So, when you tell Hunter that you don't want children, he lets out a long, deep breath, and simply replies, "Thank the Maker."

Echo - Similar to Hunter, he's relieved. Echo likes to weigh out his situation before making large decisions, such as counting his credits before ordering a meal, and checking the Marauder's stock before beginning a repair. To put it bluntly, he's not got the right scenario for a child, and there's no chance of creating that either, given that, for starters, he's broke. Echo has been through a lot, and he wants to live a relaxed life as possible. He already has the Batch, he doesn't need any more stress.

Tech - Life goals and aspirations are a topic that Tech likes to bring up early on during a relationship, to ensure that the relationship is suitable. If not, carry on looking! Tech simply has no interest in reproducing. It's likely that your offspring will inherit his growth acceleration, giving them a short life span, not to mention how their brain would come out. He's just "not the right material for reproducing." So, when you tell Tech you don't want them? Phew! "It seems we truly are compatible!"

Wrecker - Everybody takes Wrecker to be a family man, and he is, but he feels like he's not suited to be a parent. There is a lot to consider, and Wrecker feels like he's simply not cut out for it. He's happy with what he has, so why change that? Wrecker is also happy to match his partner - if you want children, okay. If not, okay! He's laid back, easy going, but he'd prefer to keep his life as stress-free as possible. Besides, he already has Omega, and he's more than happy with his little/big sister.

Crosshair - Seriously, this man is going to be over the moon when you tell him that you don't want children. Crosshair, a father, really? Absolutely not! It's not that he despises children, he'd just rather not deal with them. He outlines the pros and cons with you, and when Crosshair is writing the list, the cons heavily outweigh the pros. If anything, if you do want children, Crosshair will end things then and there. That life isn't for him, simple as.

#tbbwriting #the bad batch #tbb #childfree #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #the bad batch x reader #hunter x reader #echo x reader #tech x reader #wrecker x reader #crosshair x reader #sfw #star wars

178 notes · View notes

drabbles-mc · 1 year

Text

Home For Christmas

Steve Murphy x F!Reader

Inspired by the lyrics in This Post: "Don't come home for Christmas, you're the last thing I wanna see."

Warnings: angst, alcohol, language

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: I've been having a rough time and decided that it was Steve's turn to suffer because of it. Writing lately has been difficult for a multitude of reasons, but I'm happy that I was able to get this out. As always, we don't beta or edit in this house. 😂

Narcos Taglist: @thesandbeneathmytoes @garbinge @meadowofsinfulthoughts @winchestershiresauce @sizzlingcloudmentality @alm0501 @panagiasikelia @616wilsons @hauntedforsst @mirabee @buckybarneshairpullingkink @boomclapxox @nessamc @southotheborder @supersanelyromantic @padbrookcottage @mysun-n-stars @raincoffeeandfandoms @bport76 @marrianena @ashlingnarcos @passionatewrites @narcolini @purplesong1028 @artemiseamoon (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

It had been a long time since he had made it back to the states. It had been even longer since he had seen you. The previous trips home had never been long enough, and what little time he had was spent visiting his family. The thought of a layover stop in Miami crossed his mind each time, but he never followed through on it. He had never been ready enough, brave enough to deal with the possibility of a bad outcome. And the possibility of that was a large one.

But he had managed to land a longer stretch home than usual. And it was almost Christmas—that in and of itself was a miracle because over the years he drew the short straw more often than not and got stuck in Colombia during the holidays. He didn’t love it, but it didn’t bother him enough for him to make a big deal of it. Steve had never really been a huge holiday guy. He didn’t hate the holidays, but he never seemed to be quite as into them as the rest of his family was. He certainly didn’t love them as much as you had. You had the whole house decorated the week after Thanksgiving. It was impressive. He had to hope that all of your holiday spirit would make you at least a little merciful when he turned up on your doorstep.

You never moved out and sold the house. He figured that after the first year or so you might’ve gotten rid of it, moved into something that was just yours, something that you didn’t use to share with him. But when he looked you up, it was still the same address. He wondered if you gave the place a complete overhaul. If it had been him instead of you, he would’ve just sold it and washed his hands of it. But it wasn’t him.

He had contemplated calling you first. Same address, same home phone number. He still had it written down, not that he had used it. It sat scribbled on the page collecting months and then years of metaphorical dust. He sat by the phone in his hotel room for longer than he cared to admit weighing the pros and cons of calling you. You might slam the phone down on the receiver as soon as you heard that it was him. You might indulge him in a brief, awkward conversation before still reaching the same conclusion of you hanging up on him. The chances of the two of you having a good catch-up session like everything was fine was slim to none. It was just about as likely as you agreeing to grab coffee to hear him out.

But maybe the urge to turn him away would lessen if you saw him in person rather than just hearing his voice over the phone. He knew it wasn’t a very fair play. He was aware of the fact that he didn’t really have much of a right to be putting you in that position. But his awareness didn’t outweigh his need to see you, to hear your voice. Even if all he ended up hearing from you was you telling him to leave. So he got up off the bed, grabbed his keys and his jacket and headed for the door.

He made one pit-stop along the way. Your love for the holidays coupled well with your love for something nice to sip on while you decorated cookies or watched the same cheesy holiday films you watched every year. Annual rituals that you never seemed to get bored or tired of. He hoped your consistency applied to your taste in wines as well.

He was a little surprised that he still knew how to make his way to the house. It’d been a long time. He knew that he was heading in the right direction as soon as he hit the end of the street though—he could see the Christmas lights before he even got all that close. It made him smile despite the knot that was growing in the pit of his stomach.

The car rolled to a stop on the side of the street right in front of the house. He noticed that your car was the only one in the driveway, which was a definite win in his book. The last thing he wanted to do was have this whole interaction when you had family or friends over. Or, worse, if you were with some new guy he definitely didn’t want him witnessing all of whatever this was going to be. Good, bad, or indifferent he didn’t want an audience watching how it all played out.

Even after he cut the ignition on the car, he didn’t make any immediate move to get out. He took in all of the lights that you’d hung so nicely. You always did have a knack for making the house look like something right out of a catalogue. More often than not, you took the reins on the decorating and he had just faithfully followed behind you, carrying whatever needed to be carried. He wondered who had been helping you out since he left, if you had even asked anyone for help at all. Neither of you had really ever been all that great at that.

He knew that the longer that he sat in his car, the more likely it was that he was going to start it up and pull away. Taking a deep breath, he reached for the passenger seat and grabbed the bottle of wine he’d grabbed. The girl at the checkout counter had so nicely put a bow around the neck of it when Steve made the remark that it was a gift for someone. He wondered if it would make any difference to you, if you’d even take the thing.

The walk up the relatively short driveway felt like it was about five miles long. Steve found himself repeatedly pushing his hair back out of his face, fidgeting with his jacket. It was like he had all the anxiety of a first date with none of the hopefulness of one. If his grip on the bottle hadn’t been so tight, he wondered if his hand would’ve had a bit of a shake to it.

Taking one last deep breath, he gave up on any opportunity to get out of this unscathed. He reached forward and rang the doorbell, rocking back and forth from the heels to the balls of his feet. He wished that he had taken a drink of something before doing all of this. Maybe it would’ve calmed his nerves. And, really, as he stood there he couldn’t help but to think that this wasn’t the kind of thing that sane, sober people did.

The click of a lock had never made him stand up as straight as he did right then. There was no turning tail and running now. His breath was stuck in his throat as he watched the door open, the small sliver of warm light growing the farther you pulled it.

Despite the mixed emotions on your face, you looked as beautiful as you ever had. His mouth suddenly went dry as he took in the sight of you for the first time in so long. You had your apron on, the holiday-print fabric already smeared with flour and food coloring from whatever you had been baking before he disturbed you. Your headband kept your hair off of your face, although it did nothing to stop the smudges that were on your forehead from wiping the back of your hand across it. The sight of you like that, in all of the glory that Steve still so fondly remembered despite all the time that had gone by, got the weakest of smiles out of him.

“Steve?” you said his name like a question even though it was so clearly him in front of you.

He cleared his throat, trying to get himself to say something—the exact opposite of the problem that usually had. “H-hey, Y/N.”

You knew it was him. It sounded like him. For the most part, he still looked like himself. He looked more tired than you remembered. You wondered if the stress was from the fact that he was on your front step after all this time, or if it was because of everything that he had left you behind for. Maybe it was both. If he was anything like the man you remembered, it was both.

“What,” you shook your head in disbelief as you leaned against your doorframe, “what are you doing here?”

He was sure that he had rehearsed a good answer to that question at one point. He just wanted to see you again. But he didn’t want to say that. He didn’t want it to feel like he was expecting anything from you. Because he wasn’t. He knew how unfair it would be of him to act like you owed him anything. Not after what he put you through.

“Got to go home for the holidays this year. Had, you know,” he shrugged, his eyes dropping to the ground for a moment, “had a layover in Miami.”

You nodded. You didn’t not believe him, but you also had an inkling that it wasn’t quite as serendipitous as he was making it out to be. “Right.”

With each millisecond that passed by in silence, he felt his nerves getting worse. “Sorry to just drop by without callin’ first.”

Your knee-jerk reaction was to say, “That’s not the thing you need to be sorry for,” but you didn’t say it. You stopped yourself just in time. Letting out a deep sigh, you asked, “What’s going on, Steve?”

“I just…” he shook his head at himself as he tried to cobble together a sentence, “I just wanted to see you, I guess.”

You chuckled but it had no humor to it. “You guess?”

He could feel the venom building in your voice and he knew that he deserved it, sure, but he didn’t exactly want to be subjected to it. “Y/N—”

“You know how long it’s been, Steve?” You weren’t yelling, but you obviously weren’t happy.

He frowned, like his whole face was being weighed down by the reality of it all, the sadness of it all. He’d never hated the sound of his own name so much. “I know.”

“Then,” you threw your hands up, “why are you here? What do you want? Feeling lonely for the holidays so you figured you’d just—”

“No,” he managed to sum up the ability to interject. “That’s not it. I’m not, I’m not lookin’ for anything from you.”

“Then why the fuck are you here?” you asked, exhausted even though you’d only been face-to-face with him for a few minutes.

“Because it’s been a long time,” Steve offered up, knowing it wasn’t anywhere near a good enough reason, “and I’ve been thinking about you and—”

“Then you could’ve picked up the fucking phone at some point over the last—”

“I know.” He wasn’t trying to make himself out to be any better than he was. That wasn’t something that you would fall for, anyway.

“Then why didn’t you?”

He raised his eyebrows. “You tellin’ me you wouldn’t have hung up the second you figured out it was me?”

“Rejection has never been a deterrent for you before,” you said with a shake of your head.

He chuckled softly at that. “I know.”

There were a few seconds of incredibly tense silence before you finally broke it with the soft-spoken question of, “What the fuck, Steve?”

Everything that he had rehearsed and tried to burn into his brain was gone. All the pacing in the hotel room as he came up with his script was for nothing. He’d done plenty of stupid things. The fact that he’d let you go in the first place was evidence of that. But as he stood there, looking at you in the doorway of the house that could’ve been something the two of you had shared, every poor decision came and smacked him over the head. Reality was merciless.

“I’m…I’m sorry. I’ll just,” he gestured back towards his car, “I’ll go.”

He was halfway through taking a step backward when you asked, “How did you think this was gonna go?”

“I, um,” he let out an embarrassed laugh, “I don’t really know. I was sorta just…hoping for the best.”

You shook your head, the expression on your face impossible for him to read. “You never even called after you left.”

His heart sank inside his chest. “Would you have even wanted to hear from me?”

“No,” you saw the way your immediate response got a bit of a sad laugh out of him, “but you still should’ve called. I never even knew if you got down there safe until I reached out to your parents.”

His eyes widened. “You asked them?”

You shrugged. “Yea. It was the only way I knew that you weren’t dead in a Colombian jungle. Eventually, though, I just,” you shrugged again, “started to assume that no news was good news. If something happened, I was sure they’d tell me.”

That twisted him up in a way that he hadn’t been prepared for. There was no way that he could even try to pretend he knew what the words coming out of your mouth were going to be, but even so, he hadn’t been ready for that. Maybe he should’ve been. It wasn’t that long ago that you had been ready to spend the rest of your life with him, diamond ring and save the dates and all. But the two of you never quite made it there. He didn’t let you. But you’d been ready for a whole future with him. Of course you called his parents.

“They never mentioned me calling?” you asked, knowing the answer.

He shook his head, unable to say anything other than, “No.”

“All the good it would’ve done,” you said, sounding more hopeless than you wanted to after all that time.

He’d taken his fair share of hits over the years, but nothing ever landed quite as hard as the words you were saying to him. He owed it to you, though. Allowing you to say your piece and get your licks in after so long, after all the silence, it was the least he could do. Made for a much better Christmas gift than the bottle of wine he was still holding.

You saw the way that he had nothing to say quite yet. You supposed that you couldn’t really blame him too much for that. You took advantage of the opportunity. “If you came here looking for forgiveness, or for me to tell you that it’s alright, it’s…” you shook your head, hating how tears were starting to prickle at the edges of your eyes, “it’s not.”

Despite the fact that it was impossible, it seemed like he actually became smaller as he listened to what you said. “I’m sorry.”

You nodded. “Yea, and you should be.” You wiped at your eyes, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of the tears hitting your cheeks, even though deep down you knew that wasn’t really what he wanted anyway. “Why now?”

He looked like a man lost at sea as he tried to fumble his way to an answer. “Figured it was overdue? I had some extra time at home? Fuck, Y/N, what do you want me to say? It’s the holidays and—”

“You don’t really care about Christmas,” you interrupted with a roll of your eyes.

“But you do,” he countered.

You let out a dry laugh. “Not enough holiday cheer in the world, Steve, to get you out of this.”

“I’m not tryin’ to get out of it.” He took a small step towards you. “I swear. I just…really wanted to see you.”

The look on your face was enough to fool Steve, but the rapid thumping in your chest meant that you couldn’t lie to yourself. You weren’t stupid enough to buckle underneath the suffocating weight of it all, even with him standing so close, but it was tempting.

You leaned back just the slightest bit. “And now you have.”

He pulled back, nodding as he did. “Right.” He cleared his throat, trying to stuff down his own emotions but wasn’t able to do it nearly as well as you. “I really am sorry.”

You gave a small nod. “I know.”

The unsteadiness in the breath he took was enough so that you could hear it. Still, he pressed on. He lifted the bottle slightly. “Still drink red?”

“Still want to give it to me?” you asked, half joking, half knowing that he would be well within his rights to take it with him.

He held it out to you. “Not like I’m gonna drink it.”

The gesture got a weak smile out of you. It was all uncomfortable. Nothing was ever going to be the same. He was still Steve, though, even with the dark circles under his eyes that didn’t used to be there.

“Thanks,” you said, not sure what else there was to say.

He knew that this was the point where he should be apologizing one more time before saying goodbye and heading back to his car. He tried to make himself do it, but he couldn’t. He hadn’t thought about how long it had been since he saw you, since he got to stand this close to you, until he was there and couldn’t pry himself away. He did it to himself, of course, but now he was stuck. He almost hoped that you’d just give him a good push—maybe that would kick him into gear.

“How much longer are you there for?” you asked, not quite sure where the question came from.

It caught him off-guard too. he awkwardly cleared his throat. “Uh, I’m only in town for a couple weeks. More than I usually get, but—”

“No, no,” you shook your head, “I mean—how much longer are you in Colombia?”

His shoulders slumped slightly at your question. “I don’t know. Till we catch him, I guess. Could be three months, could be—”

“Three years.”

He swallowed hard. “Yea.”

You didn’t know why you asked or what you thought he was going to say. You didn’t know what to do with the information he’d just given you. It would just be something new to keep you up at night. “Be safe, then. For however long it takes.”

He nodded, knowing that promising you that was a lie. “I will.” He wanted to hug you but he knew that he had no right. He finally forced himself to take a small step back. “Hope you have a good Christmas.”

You gave him the smallest, most genuine smile you could muster, and it still came up sad. “You too.”

He turned on his heel and started to make his way back down towards his car. The walk away from your house felt just as long as the walk up to it. He wanted to look back at you, but he didn’t think he could handle whatever look was on your face. It wouldn’t matter the expression, all it would do was hurt him more. He dug his keys out of his pocket so he could unlock the car.

You watched him as he walked away. Again. Fresh tears were trying to gather and you tried desperately to blink them away. The fingers of the hand that weren’t holding the bottle of wine were absent-mindedly fiddling with the bow that was wrapped around the neck of it. Even though it was late, and dark, the lights on your house reached far enough for you to be able to see the way that he slumped back in his seat, his head tilted back. You wondered if he had his eyes closed, if he was briefly regretting all his decisions. A small part of you hoped that he was.

You waited until you heard the sound of the engine starting up before finally stepping completely back inside the house and shutting the door. Leaning back against it, you let out a sigh, feeling the tension bleed out of your body as wave after wave of every other emotion rolled over you. Part of you felt like you should be doing something, but you weren’t quite sure what. Instead, you made your way back through the house, past the Christmas tree that was fully decorated with presents already underneath it, and back to the kitchen where you had a few trays of cookie dough waiting to be put into the oven.

Setting the bottle of wine down on the counter, you grabbed a glass from the cabinet. You pulled the wine bottle opener from the drawer before pulling the cork from the top. You poured it into the glass, making sure not to let the bow slip off in the process. Bringing the glass to your lips, you took a small sip, smiling despite the weight in your chest. A lot of things changed, but some things didn’t. So, you put the cork back into the bottle and got back to your cookies, a million old thoughts running through your head.

#narcos #narcos netflix #steve murphy #steve murphy x you #steve murphy x reader #narcos fanfiction #narcos netflix fanfiction #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

115 notes · View notes

ecoamerica · 24 days

Text

youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

6K notes · View notes

dearweirdme · 1 month

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/dearweirdme/

745403110942441472/pr-anon-back-100-agree-most-pr-is-for

assuming he was completely on board with the entire thing which everything before the actual walk doesn't really point to, and putting aside the awful online backlash he received and is still receiving which does matter to an extent because only online people are even aware of the rumor and hate is hate regardless of how used to it he is, but i guess it's nice to be optimistic about what he was roped into than not

Hi anon!

I believe Tae has some say over his life (these days at least). I’m not saying this is something he went into happily and excitedly and fully on board, but I do think there’s a possibility that he did indeed agree to this. If it is indeed a bargaining game (and I believe it might be) than he would have chosen to do this shitty walk and possibly gotten more freedom in other spaces…. Spaces that probably matter a great deal to him.

With judgements like yours you have to be careful, because though it might feel to you that you’re sticking up for him.. you are actually placing negative judgement on the way some people choose to maintain their closet. It might not be the way you would do things, but to plenty of people this is every day reality.

Having said that, I do agree that there are things that point to Tae not liking how things went and that he wanted to put the whole thing behind him as soon as he could. I don’t know how much of this was his choice, neither do you. We’re just considering possibilities here.

Artists have pr teams. BTS probably has a real big team behind them and you can bet they have strategies for BTS as a whole and every individual member. It is therefore not weird to consider this as being a planned strategy (which is something common) with actual goals and contracts. Tae has worked in this business for many years. His perspective on something like this is totally different from ours. He might not have liked the idea of it, but I can imagine a situation in which he weighed the pros and cons and reluctantly agreed.

It will never be fair anon, because having to fake a relationship because you can’t show your real one is awful. But this is still the world we live in and people just choose as best they can with the cards they are dealt sometimes.

#taennope

8 notes · View notes

aziraphales-library · 1 year

Note

Hi, I'm looking for angst-y with a happy ending fanfics where aziraphale and crowley are in love, but at first aziraphale thinks he's going to fall or that crowley wants that to happen. Not looking for an specific one, if you know some like this I'd love to read! Thanks so much

Hello. You can check out our #fallen angel aziraphale tag for more fics like this. Here are some angsty where Aziraphale falls or the possibility of him falling is discussed...

Break Free by nsowlwrites97 (T)

There was a meteor streaking through the sky.

The meteor was bright and colorful and beautiful, and somewhere in her soul the girl knew that it spelled tragedy.

Or: Aziraphale begins to fall. Crowley is there to catch him.

the cutting edge of eternity by gazing (T)

When Aziraphale begins to fall from heaven, he tries to hide it for as long as possible. But Crowley has been through this before. He knows the signs. And he's sure as hell (pun intended) not going to let Aziraphale go through it alone.

(Only) In Our Minds by LylaRivers (T)

If he were human, he’s sure his heart would beat out of his chest. His body aches, and it feels as though he’s going to explode. He’s never, ever felt anything like this in his six thousand years on Earth- or in the immeasurable existence before the Earth was created and Time truly started.

Is this what it feels like to Fall?

Post Apoca-nope, Aziraphale starts to experience panic attacks.

Lend To Me Your Hallowed Gaze, Tonight by Juno_Sunlit (T)

Crowley isn't Holy. He isn't loved by the only thing in all of creation that's supposed to. He was loved, loved so very, very much, and then he wasn't. And if he could feel that overwhelming embrace again, he would.

And he's still dealing with that when the world doesn't end, and a fearful Aziraphale starts avoiding him, despite everything. He's thrown into turmoil, seemingly betrayed, and left to loneliness.

But, of course, Aziraphale comes back. He always does, faithful and gentle and lovely. This time, however, it's a genesis.

The Second Great Fire by Twilightcitysky (E)

On the worst night of the Blitz, Aziraphale drops a bombshell of his own on Crowley. He's done with being an angel. He wants to Fall.

Hell Bent by NiwaEngland (NR)

The Sequel to Hell Wins.

Aziraphale looked at him, through him.

"Then why? I don't understand it, Crowley. I cannot comprehend this."

Crowley considered the question carefully. Weighing up the pros and cons.

"I want you to Fall."

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #angst #fallen angel aziraphale #mod d

62 notes · View notes

peachymilkandcream · 6 months

Note

Hello! Can I please request a scenario with really, REALLY heavy BDSM. Like, Levi has planned a really special and long night for them. He had been pining after her for years, afterall. So now that he finally has her, he wants to experiment anything and everything on her. Evelyn is less than thrilled about it. Here are some kinks I would like for you to add: Bondage, humiliation, degradation, sadism, nipple play, clit torture, edging, dacryphilia, mind breaking, and cum play ( you can add more if you want these are just from the top of my head.) He also has set up multiple mirrors around them so she can see how he has turned her into his little fucktoy, how mercilessly he humiliates her and uses her. He has brought plugs and gags so that all her holes are filled at all times. He also fucks all of her holes and fills every single one of them with his cum. After filling her completely he plugs her again and covers the rest of her body with his cum, especially her face. By the middle of it, she is so fucked out that she can't even talk, can't even think or keep her eyes open. But he forces her to watch anyway.

Levi x Evelyn -> Nothing But Pain

(A/N: Thank you so much for the request Anon! I'll try to incorporate as much as I can and we'll see how far we get! ^^)

WARNINGS: noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, violence, mind breaking, misogyny, etc.

============================================

Levi wanted tonight to be special, tonight marked their one month anniversary of being married. The best month of his entire life. After they had first gotten married sex had been nothing but holding her down, pounding her until he came and then falling asleep after. It had been that way because he was more focused on filling her as soon as possible and nothing else. Now he wanted to take his time and make her feel everything. As she sat across from him sipping her tea he tried to hide his devious smirk. Inside the tea he had put a little something to make her fall into a light sleep, just enough so he had time to set everything up. She had no idea, a twinge of guilt fills him until he quickly shoos it away, it was her fault after all, a month into marriage and she wasn't pregnant yet, he could hardly be blamed.

He steals glances up at her for some time until her eyelids droop and eventually he hears her soft breathing. Quickly he gathers her up in his arms, bringing her upstairs and stripping her, mentally holding himself back from touching her just yet, he wanted her to be completely conscious as he took her.

Everything is done as silently as he can, he moves large mirrors all around the room so that she can see from every angle. Her arms are bound to the headboard with his belt, and her legs are spread and held in place with bits of spare rope.

Once he's finished he's about to place the smelling salts under her nose when he spies a bottle in his dresser drawer. Pulling it out, he examines the bottle, half full of the aphrodisiac he had used on her some time ago. He took a moment to weigh the pros and cons before opening the cork and downing the rest in one go.

================================================

Evelyn wakes slowly, trying to stretch but noticing her arms and legs feel heavy and unmovable. As she comes to her senses she takes in her surroundings, the restraints, mirrors, and Levi standing in front of her stroking his erect dick, oozing precum from the tip.

"What's going on Levi-"

"Shh. Don't say anything. Just let me look at you for a minute."

She pulls down on the bonds, fear filling her as she realizes she can't move them. "This isn't funny Levi- untie me right now."

Levi huffs in annoyance, clearly upset he has to give up masturbating to deal with her complaints. Without another word he stuffs her panties in her mouth, making Evelyn wince at the cold and tangy discharge touching her tongue.

He's so aroused it looks like the sight of her alone will make him cum. "Look at you...such a little slut and so eager for me."

With one of his hands he reaches down and pinches her nipple, making her squeak in pain and try and pull back.

"What you don't like that?" Both hands pinch and pull at her nipples, bringing tears to her eyes, it hurt, so why was she feeling slickness on her thighs?

He continues to pull on her nipples, amused by the way they get hard with any stimulation. When he's through he lowers his head and licks them, swirling his tongue around and sucking on them gently, making her think he was switching his tone and being gentle with her. However that's forgotten when he bites and nibbles all over her breasts, making her whine and writhe against the restraints.

Annoyed with her noise he reaches down and pinches her clit. "Shut the fuck up."

Her cries don't stop as he focuses his attention on abusing her clit, grabbing it and squeezing until Evelyn's tears soak her cheeks. Only then does he stop, satisfied by how puffy and swollen both her clit and nipples are for now.

Levi pulls out two plugs made of smooth and hard glass, her mouth was taken care of so it only left two holes for him to fill. Using saliva as the only lube he cared to use, he slicked up her ass, probing his finger inside of it, earning soft gasps and moans from her.

"You're so transparent, disgusting bitch, you love it when I finger you like this don't you?"

She shakes her head no, only to be met with Levi pushing the plug in all at once, causing her to cry out, her hole squeezing around the new object, whether to force it out or pull it in deeper neither knew.

The other one was set aside for now, Levi only wanted the best semen to impregnate her, which is why that's what he'd be filling first.

"Watch." Is all he says, it comes out more like a threat, so Evelyn turns her head to watch to avoid more of his torture.

Levi pushes into her cunt all at once, nearly making her close her eyes in bliss, the welcome change from her burning clit was welcome, especially when he filled her to the brim like that.

"Look at you, squeezing around me just because I graced you with my cock. Can't you be grateful you stupid whore and enjoy the shit I give you? Your body was made for me, your pussy welcomes me in every time to pound you since you're always so damn needy, wanting to be drunk off my dick at all times."

Evelyn can't find it in her to try and argue, to try and fight back, mesmerized by the sight of him on top of her, slapping his hips into hers with such determination. It was different this time, she felt so full with him and the plug inside her, part of her even wished the plug was bigger.

Her body always betrayed her, knowing what was being done to her but still bringing her to the edge anyway, the familiar coil twisting in her, just as it threatened to break Levi pinched her clit again, distracting her from the pleasure and ruining her orgasm. She looked at him in disbelief as he forced himself all the way in and filled her cunt to the brim, oozing out from around him it was so much.

She thought that at least it was over once he pulled out an sealed the cum inside her with another plug. However he still had that hungry look in her eyes, and as she felt him tug until the anal plug slipped out she knew her wish for something bigger there was about to come true.

Spit, cum, and arousal slicked him up enough to slip in. She'd never felt him fully in her ass before, at first it hurt and felt weird but soon she was moaning into her gag as he stretched her hole. Her pussy clenched and trembled around the plug, throbbing with arousal. How everything he did sent such pleasure through her was astounding, something was off about him, usually he outlasted her by a long stretch but now he was just hammering into her mercilessly, trying to climax as soon as possible.

It doesn't take him long, shooting in so far it almost feels like he's in her stomach when she knows very well that he's not. The hot cum there feels different than in her womb where she's used to feeling it, she felt warm and full and satisfied.

When he pulls out and returns the plug he's still hard, his body dripping sweat. "All filled with my cum, adorable." He yanks the gag out of her mouth, wiping his dick with it before pushing his full length into her mouth.

Without mercy he fucks her throat, muttering under his breath for her to "fucking take it, take all of you you greedy cunt."

Tears spring into her eyes as she gags on his length, she doesn't even have a chance to do anything to him, only being able to take him fucking her throat until he filled her belly with his semen, coating her insides all the way down. He returns the gag, and all she can taste is cum, arousal, and herself. It's salty, and strange but part of her likes the taste, part of her craves it. She's fucked out of her mind but his aggression and lingering threats make her keep watching.

He rubs his dick between her breasts, humping her mounds, desperate for release. Every little thing is making him cum, Evelyn finds her self painted with white. From her breasts, thighs, stomach, all of it drips with cum when he's through. His semen coats her face, globs dripping down her chin and into her hair. It's almost comforting, covered in him, covered in warmth. Comforting to be someones. Even his.

#attack on titan #break me slowly #levi ackerman #levi aot #levi x oc #levi x reader #shingeki no kyojin #yandere levi #yandere levi ackerman #yandere levi x reader #oneshot requests

14 notes · View notes