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#I have NO idea if any of you care about this
wynnyfryd · 3 days
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@messessentialist told me her friend called to rant about spotting an “upsettingly beautiful boy in a tj maxx” and i vomited 1200 words about it, enjoy
fic idea: chrissy and eddie work together at tj maxx. one afternoon a guy comes in who’s so hot that it kinda just pisses eddie off? bc like, who does this gorgeous asshole think he is??? coming in here and popping his hip at eddie’s counter, like, does he even know how uncomfortable it is to start chubbin’ up in skinny jeans?? that shit chafes!
so eddie gets all flustered and responds by getting an attitude with the guy because he has zero chill (and also because the dude’s iced coffee is sweating a ring all over eddie’s counter, and so help him if his manager gets on his ass one more time about keeping his station tidy—)
“did you need help finding anything else today?” eddie sneers. “coasters, perhaps?”
upsettingly hot guy looks confused for a second before he follows eddie’s pointed glance at the plastic starbucks cup leaving a cold puddle on the laminate, and then he sneers right back; adjusts the ray bans nestled in his perfect honey brown hair and looks eddie up and down — long, slow, one eyebrow lifting in subtle elitist disapproval.
“what?” he snorts, “hot topic wasn’t hiring?”
oh, fuck you very much!
so eddie’s all ‘nemesis acquired’ and holds the biggest grudge of all time. makes a sworn enemy and a boogeyman out of the guy, turns him into urban legend, starts blaming the Upsettingly Beautiful Man for every little thing that goes wrong in his life — at work, at home, at band practice; no place is safe from the dreaded UBM.
“he’s not a fucking cryptid!” gareth snaps one day at rehearsal, chucking a drumstick at eddie’s head. “just track him down and bone already so you can shut the hell up!”
“wouldn’t he just talk about him more after they have sex?” jeff wonders, to which gareth narrows his eyes and raises his second drumstick as a threat.
meanwhile, eddie’s cute coworker chrissy (who he’s become surprisingly good friends with, to the point of referring to her as his work wife) gets a girlfriend. robin’s sooooo pretty, and soooo nice, and sooooo tall, eddie, did you know how tall she is?
yes, chrissy, he’s supremely aware of a stranger’s five-foot-eight-and-a-half stature now, thank you.
“you have to meet her!” chrissy gushes, bouncing up onto her toes.
eddie hangs another shirt. “you have to chill.”
“hey!” she pouts, pixar princess cute. “you wouldn’t tell the sun to dull its shine, would you?”
“i mean, i would, but i doubt the giant ball of plasma cares what i want.”
“okay, whatever, eeyore.” she rolls her eyes but she physically can’t stop beaming even as she does it, and eddie finds himself melting under it — some sort of radiant area attack coming from the apples of this girl’s cheeks, he swears, because the next thing he knows he’s agreeing to go to rando new girlfriend’s housewarming party this weekend so he can meet her properly.
only he doesn’t get to meet her properly, because when he shows up to the party the two bedroom apartment is packed with people he’s never seen, and it’s loud as fuck in here and he’s sweating through his leather from the six flights of stairs he had to climb to reach the place, so he steps through a sliding door out to the balcony and lo and behold, if it isn’t Upsettingly Beautiful Man looking upsettingly beautiful — positively fucking divine, actually, the last wisps of fuchsia sunset catching the gold streaks in his hair and dotting the tip of his flawless nose. Seriously, does this dude have any flaws? A scar, a birthmark, an unsightly ingrown hair? Eddie can’t even see a single blackhead for fuck’s sake.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer” the dude mutters, turning to look at him, and, “oh, my god, you again?”
“uh.”
“i’ve got a fucking coaster this time,” the guy says, lifting his solo cup and giving it a little shake to point out the cork round sitting underneath it, “so if that’s what you came out here to berate me for, then you’ll have to think of something else.”
“uh,” eddie says again, because he has no idea what brought this on but he’s pretty sure it has shit all to do with him, and pretty boy’s really working himself up now, arms moving in sharp gestures as he paces back and forth on the short balcony.
“not that it even matters if i didn’t have a coaster, because this is my house! i can do what i want with my own fucking stuff in my own fucking apartment, nance, i don’t— uh…”
pretty boy’s face blossoms rose petal red, a heavy blush creeping up his jawline as he catches himself mid rant and folds in on himself, crossing his arms over his chest with a sheepish expression.
eddie’s always had a thing for shepherding.
“i’m listening,” he says, popping a cigarette in his mouth and holding the pack out in offering. “if you care to vent.”
the guy — steve, eddie finds out — tells him all about his controlling ex-girlfriend as they work their way through two cigarettes each, the sun slipping away to reveal a full topaz moon, big and low and close, ripe citrus bending the branch of a tree. nance was a real piece of work by the sounds of it, and eddie feels like an absolute shit for the way he treated steve, who had apparently just gotten dumped the night before they met and had been out shopping for a “please take me back” present.
“like that was ever gonna work,” steve mumbles, ashing over the railing. “pathetic. anyway, sorry i was rude to you that day or whatever.”
“you weren’t.”
“nah, i was.” steve shifts his weight, knocks their shoulders together. “not that you didn’t deserve it.”
“yeahhhh,” eddie agrees, cringing at himself. “sorry.”
“all good. so what’s your story then, huh? who pissed in your cheerios that day?”
eddie blames the alcohol fumes wafting from steve’s cup — a justification that makes perfect sense and would totally hold up in a court of law — for what he says next.
“honestly? you.”
steve’s face is so cartoonishly offended that eddie busts out laughing, eyes crinkling, head thrown back.
“oh, so you’re just an asshole,” steve nods sagely. “first cute guy to flirt with me in six weeks is a lunatic. love that for me.”
“no, i—” eddie laughs, “okay, we’re coming back to how you think i’m cute, but i just meant, uh-”
oh, fuck it. eddie’s never been good at holding his cards close to the chest. more of a 52 pick up kinda guy, historically, and why change now?
“you were so gorgeous it, like, genuinely upset me for a second,” eddie admits, running his tongue over his lip. he stubs out his cigarette; turns to look right at steve. “like, uh, like cuteness aggression or some shit.”
steve mirrors his posture, leaning an elbow on the railing, nearly chest to chest. “so you are crazy,” he smiles.
“that’s correct.” eddie swallows.
steve moves in to close the gap. “good crazy?”
“fun crazy, so i’m told.”
“i’m gonna kiss you if that’s cool.”
“very”
the kiss tastes like ripe citrus
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hoshigray · 1 day
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hellooo! i had an idea i wanted to add onto the sukuna smut you had where he was rebellious student and she was the student body. i was thinking about the reader taking charge of sukuna even after he talked about how she would be under him.
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: omfg FINALLY i have time to do this req!! second part to this request.
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern setting; Sukuna and you are college seniors - degradation (bitch, slut, whore) - impact play (spanking) - prone bone + cowgirl positions - breast play + nipple play - cervix fucking- dick piercing (frenulum) - unprotected sex (psa: don't be silly; wrap the willy) - creampies - overstimulation - clitoral play (friction/grinding) - pet names (brat, good girl, pet, princess, woman) - implied blackmail - Sukuna being a sadist fuck, per usual - mention of drool/spit.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k
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“—Khhh! Ahaaa, fuuck, ‘Ryoo, slow do—Ahhnn!!”
“Nnnmm…Heh, dumb pet; think you have any right to tell me what to do…”
Being the president of the student body entails many responsibilities. It’s a highly respectable title expected to be exhibited by the poisest of souls—a soul that you behold and have been recognized with for the past four years of your college life. 
Senior year, a time that was supposed to be a smooth sail, unexpectedly brought its own set of challenges. Despite meticulously planning your major and minor courses, the final year turned out to be a juggling act, with five classes and the added responsibilities of extracurriculars and student government. But at the very least, it’s nothing you- student president- can’t handle.
What is one thing you can’t handle, however, is the man who has you all naked and sweating on his red satin sheets.
Sukuna has you face down to the mattress, a hand on your head to keep your cheek smooshed to the silky sheet, while the other pins you down by the waist. From behind, he ruts into your bare ass with a rough pace, jackhammering his cock into your wet cunt that’s already stuffed with his come from the rounds prior. 
Being in a situation like this is not what you envisioned would happen in your last year of college — let alone with the likes of him. You’d rather wring your own neck than be within arm’s length of Ryōmen Sukuna’s perimeter. The named senior has been on your shit list for the past three years, fucking delinquent, only doing what he wants for his pleasure, rules be damned. 
The exact aspect goes along with you, too; the only reason why you’re allowing this bastard to touch you like this is because of the material he has to bring your reputation down—all these years of hard work threatened to crumble down because of some inappropriate pictures and videos of you. To him, he could care less about releasing them and seeing your life diminish before his very eyes. As for you, you couldn’t let that happen, unable to sleep at night knowing the man you hate with your very being has shit on you for his petty enjoyment. 
So here you are, in the sole bedroom of his apartment, stripped of your clothes, your titles, and your dignity. All bare and nude for this vile man to see and use you as he sees fit in the most raunchy ways. I hate this so much...
“Hey, whore. Quit squirmin’ around like that, and let me finish you off.”
Sukuna slaps your ass for the tenth time that night, the skin of your butt hot and stinging with pain from the impacts and pinches of his nails. The sore feeling spreads with the crash of his pelvis slamming on your rear and his girthy dick churning the velvety texture of your insides. Each pound rocks you to submission, drool exiting your lips to the sheets and sticks to your chin. You’re sure you look like an idiot, all tousled because of his rough demeanor. Too angry with yourself that you fight the tears. I hate this so fucking much…
“—Ohhh!!” You wail out, eyes rolling up to your skull from the brush of your cervix. “Nnoohh!! F-Fuuuck! Ahaahnn...!”
The man above you snickers wickedly. “Keheh, look at you, crying like a real bitch in heat.” Another slap to your asscheek has you scream some more; your vocals are dragged out by his fingernails, piercing your inflamed skin. “Shit, can never get enough of this tight pussy. Never expected someone like you to be so good at wringing cock, prez.”
“Mmmph…! Go f–fuck yer’self, Ryōmen…” Even if he has your head pinned, your persistence furls you to throw a glare his way. 
But it only humors the tattooed senior above you. “And bore myself when there’s a perfect piece of ass that can take me?” He slams his pelvis harshly and jabs to your cervix by the tip prompts tears to strike down. “Though you were smarter than that, woman.”
You grit your teeth when Sukuna increases the speed of his thrusts; the piercing of his frenulum rubs on your inner walls without fail. Toes curl from another hard smack to your butt, nearly biting the skin of your bottom lip from yet another twinge of pain. 
“Taaah, ughhh, ohmyGoood…!” You can sense your cunt begin to throb–your orgasm is about to hit. “Su’kunaa, please slow downnn, I’m so–I’m gonna…Mmfffaaa!!”
Shocks tingle up your spine with the climb of your climax crashing down, your vagina contracting around the girthy length burrowing deep inside you. Howls are expressed with a euphoric tone despite the soreness of your poor, aching body. And Sukuna groans at the feeling of you clamping onto him, using slow movements of his hips to enjoy the contraction.
“Hnngh..! Dumb brat, thinkin’ you’re free to cum without my say-so.” A playful slap to your butt has you jolt, your figure still sensitive with your hazy high. It’s not like I didn’t tell you to slow down, you asshole. You sharply gasp at the withdrawal of his member, and his load exudes out with a sloppy force that messes your inner thighs. He then bends to your ear, his cold, sweaty chest sticking to your back. “Dirty slut chasin’ for yer own release. Have you no shame, princess?”
Stop talking to me… You were disgusted by the shudder you felt as he licked your ear.
“Thanks to you, I’m still hard,” he rubs his solid dick on the crevice of your ass, his come-coated member erotically grinding on the soft flesh. “Now stay fucking still ‘till I’m done with you—”
Rarely does Sukuna find himself perplexed. One moment, he’s proudly stationed above you. Then, you surprised him by rolling him to his back in a flash. The action takes him aback–somewhat amazed you could take his weight–and he sees your figure come over with your legs on either side of his waist. 
Now, you were on top of him—a rarity that neither of you expected.
Pinkish orange brows remain neutral, yet his piercing scarlet eyes bore holes into your frame. “And just the hell do you think you’re doing?” 
“What it looks like I’m doing.” You reply with a tiny malice — enough you knew wouldn’t get you into too much trouble with the man you’re on top of. Your hand grasps on Sukuna’s cock and strokes the erect limb. “I’m finishing you off.”
Did you gulp at the motion of a single brow being lifted? Of course you did. Albeit you were stubbornly confident, you’d be a fool if you weren’t frightened. Yet the man sneered after a few brief seconds. “Is that right? The president thinks they can do all the work, huh.” You observed Sukuna bringing his hands to relax behind his head, “Well, what are you waitin’ for? Take care of your fellow student, Miss Prez.”
I hate his ass so fucking much—you can only express your disdain through your inner dialogue, wanting nothing but to wipe that evil sneer off his tattooed face. Yet you know that’s not what’s expected of you now. So, with a gulp and a slow inhale, your hips are pulled up by yourself, and your hand guides the pulsing length in your grasp to your leaking slit. 
You gasp at the contact of his glans kissing your labia, the sight of the some dripping from your vagina sticking to Sukuna’s girth was too repulsive to the eye. Humiliation continues to shrink your core at the display before you. “Don’t keep me waiting, woman. Or I’ll go back and do the job myself, seeing you’re too scared.” The salmon-haired man doesn’t flinch at your scowl. 
“Don’t rush me, Ryōmen,” you threaten with gritted teeth, chewing on your bottom lip as you bring your ass down to take in the fat tip once more. The pain has you wince for a few seconds, hoping to God that the man below doesn’t get too impatient enough to slam you down on his cock himself because you know he wouldn’t give a damn if you’d be in pain or not.
But it does enter you; a sharp gasp erupted out of your frame at the scrape of his frenulum piercing back inside. Your hands involuntarily find something to keep your balance steady, using his chest to do the job.
As for Sukuna, his crimson eyes were honed in on you, taking in every detail of your expressions, your shaky voice, and the twitches of your body as your cunt swallowed every inch of his shaft back into your warmth until you reached the very hilt. “Good girl,” he scoffs at the sudden squeeze of your walls on him. “Don’t get a little praise get to your head; start moving, pet.”
You release a gradual sigh, and your hips begin to move. Your nerves are still under the effects of the recent climax, so your inner walls are still keen as every graze of Sukuna’s tip and piercing has you tremble like a leaf. It almost makes you scared to move entirely, thinking one wrong move will break you. 
“C’mon, Y/n,” you gasp at Sukna’s hands, finding your exposed chest to grope. “Is this the best you can do? With those slow-ass hips?”
You knew he meant to entice you, yet it was working. Your waist gauges the speed of your rhythm, now bouncing on Sukuna’s length with a purpose despite your sensitive nerves having you mewl. And your shrills come out slurred at the rough tweak of your nipples. This fool has no gentle bone in his body, using your sore body in whatever interests him. 
“Mmnngh, yeah, like that,” Sukuna purrs, fondling your breasts with fingers hungry for their flesh to play and tease. “Harder” wasn’t something to question—a simple demand you had to indulge in. You flatten your mouth as you bring your hips down more to the point that the skin of your ass hits his groin and thighs. “Harder,” he commands again, your hips now slamming hard down on him, and you shake at the poke of your cervix, nails digging into his pectorals. And the black-marked man snickers at the display. “Harder.”
You couldn’t keep your frame upright; another pound of your hips onto him caused another poke of your cervix, resulting in you losing your balance and your body falling onto Sukuna’s, who barks a laugh. “Tah, pathetic, can’t even stay upright when taking my cock.” And to make it worse, he criticizes you, his hands now moving to your butt to squeeze and slap onto. “I like the view, though. Not every day do I see a pretty face above me like this.” You scream at the buck of his hips, his dick rubbing on your G-spot with precision. “Just need some help to ease your incompetence, princess.” 
Oh, you hated how close your face was to his; if you weren’t so dazed, you’d spit at him. “—Tch, s-shut up, ‘Kunaa! Go die—Eeyaahh!” Another slap on your asscheek and graze on the upper wall of your cunt has you shrieking.
“Not a chance,” his face gets closer to yours. “Wouldn’t give you the satisfaction…” And then your moan is muffled with the addition of his lips onto yours, the Ryōmen Sukuna kissing you.
When the night couldn’t get any worse, here is Sukuna shoving his tongue into your mouth, exchanging his saliva with yours as your tongue swirls with his before he sucks on it. Fucking sickening, the nerve of this fucker! You hate how passionate the kiss became as his thrusts coincided with yours, getting faster and faster as your teeth clashed with his. My God, just fucking cum already!
You decided it was time to end this session once and for all, the pace of your hips going erratic. Every bounce of your ass came with a twinge of your cunt around Sukuna’s member; the groans he expresses into your lips are just what you’re looking for. And the more you bend forward, the friction of your clitoris grinding on his pelvis gets better. At least you’re getting some pleasure out of this…
You knew he was close to chasing his orgasm the moment his ruts to your cunt synced with yours, so it’s no surprise his fingers grip your butt and keep you grounded on him as he spills another load into you. Fuck, you can feel his cock pulsating inside you, and you can only imagine how messy it looks down there once you’re finally off of him.
Even as he’s experiencing the shocks and trembles of his release, Sukuna doesn’t break the kiss until the very end. A hand comes to the back of your head, keeping your face and mouth on him, deepen the kiss and take your breath away (literally). And once your bodies calm down, his lips finally withdraw from yours, leaving you two panting heavily among yourselves. Spit connects to your lips, but you quickly break the link with your hand covering your mouth.
“Ya know,” Sukuna breathlessly chuckles while his other hand kneads the flesh of your butt. “Think you’re startin’ to enjoy this just as much as I am.”
Eyes narrow at his words, and you turn to the side to spit his saliva out of your mouth. You wipe your mouth with a tiny grin. “You fucking wish…”
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
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ceesimz · 1 day
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We're All We Need Today
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Hey, long time no story! I'm back with this, something I had the idea for a long time ago but it was low on my list of favourites. Then I re-jigged it and re-worked it and now it's done! Everybody's favourite trope, or mine at least, angst to fluff. It's been a while since I last posted and I find myself riddled with nerves about posting stories again now, so (and I never do this because I cringe at myself) if you do like this story, please let me know in whatever way suits you because I'm seriously struggling with writer's anxiety right now and I don't have the foggiest idea how to get out of it😅
It should have been just a normal Tuesday. A normal evening on a random day mid-week in May. Training for you both that ended just after lunchtime, before meeting up at Alexia's apartment early evening after the pair of you attended meetings or completed other pieces of work. That all went smoothly, it was perfectly fine.
Alexia shouldn't have looked at your phone without your permission though. She shouldn't have looked at your messages in the first place, nevermind doing it behind your back.
"I cannot believe you told your friends and did not tell me first!" Alexia shouted at you as soon as you walked out of the bathroom, your phone opened onto your friend groupchat in her hand.
"What? Alexia, what are you doing? Are you looking through my phone?" You cried out, marching over to snatch it back, but she holds it in the air out of your reach like a high school bully. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?"
"You told your friends without conferring with me first. You went behind my back and you know I didn't want anyone knowing!"
"You've gone behind my back too, looking through my phone! Why did you do that?" You jumped and grabbed your phone, confirming exactly what you thought.
She had gone through your phone whilst you were out the room, had clicked onto a chat with your closest friends who you trusted more than almost everyone in your life, and she had read just one message that said 'What does your weekend look like in sunny Barcelona? Any plans with A?'
"No, no. You aren't flipping this around. You swore to me-" She jabbed her finger harshly against your chest as she spoke. "-that you would not tell anyone until I said you could."
Is she for real right now? Who are you even talking to?
This is not the woman you fell in love with almost seven months ago. This is not the woman who used her captaincy as an excuse to get your number. This is not the woman who asked to be your girlfriend in such a shy and awkward manner as she stumbled over her words whilst eating dinner with you on her sofa. This definitely isn't the woman who cares for you how no one else has, nor is this the woman who loves you infinitely and shows it in ways you never could have thought possible.
This is a selfish, egotistical, self-centred, and downright cold-hearted person you do not recognise. The version of Alexia in front of you here is one you thought you'd never, ever encounter. Yet, look at the situation now.
"So, what, I have to run everything by you? I can't tell my closest friends possibly the biggest detail in my life? I can't tell them I'm in love and happier than ever?"
"No. Not now. We promised we wouldn't tell anyone, and you have betrayed me." Alexia huffed angrily, her hands on her hips as she turned away from you.
"I wanted to share this part of my li- you, with them! And, Ale, you've told Alba and Eli, why can't I tell my friends?" You moved to stand in front of her so you're facing her again, and she fixed you a disapproving glare with a jut to her jaw.
"Friends are different to family - I've never met these people! What are their intentions? I don't know, and I don't want them knowing private facts about me. That is why I'm mad." Alexia gritted her teeth as she spoke, fury swimming through her veins as her hands gripped her own hips so tightly you were sure there'd be bruises the next time she looked.
"What are you even saying? Do you hear yourself right now?" You scoffed, your anger almost tripling when the woman in front of you chuckled.
"Trust me, I hear myself. I also hear you denying everything, denying the fact you've outed our relationship, denying the fact you've broke my trust. Betrayed the one thing I asked you to promise not to do. Maybe you're the one who needs their ears checking, remember when I said 'let's wait some time to tell people.' Maybe you misheard me and thought I said 'how about we tell every fucking person in the city?' So yes, I hear myself. Very clearly, you don't have to worry about that."
You stared, glared, at her for a few moments, gobsmacked at the turn of events whilst also trying not to burst into tears. This is a situation you never thought would occur between you both, and the vile way she spoke to you paired with her foul accusations had you slipping on your shoes and leaving her apartment. And, possibly the worst part of it all? She didn't even try to stop you.
Why was it always about her, about what she wants, always on her terms?
What about your opinion? She didn't care to hear you out, and it sounds like she doesn't give two flying fucks what you've got to say. Alexia Putellas and her dense head coming into play again, only caring about herself and her legacy and what people say about her. You'd think that as someone who, to the public, seems so very secure and content in her position as the best women's player still in the game, that she wouldn't be so worrisome and out-right vile if there was a chance something wasn't going her way.
No, she wasn't like that with you at least, not at all. You hadn't been together long, but the secrecy and, what you inferred now as shame, seeped into your mind and with each step as you walked home that day, you grew more and more, not only utterly infuriated, but overwhelmingly perturbed at the prospect of just... everything.
Perhaps your whole relationship had merely been a fluke. Something Alexia didn't take serious in the slightest, and nowhere near serious enough for you to tell people about it. Maybe, at the end of the day, you were too much for her to deal with, and the only way the Catalan could cope was by keeping you behind closed doors. The theories your mind was coming up made you sick to the pit of your stomach, and it was a miracle that you made it to the bathroom of your apartment by the time you were emptying the contents of your body.
There was some kind of higher power watching over you, because this whole fiasco had occurred when there were two days off afterwards. It was coming up to the tail end of the season, and as the latter half of the month was jam-packed with tense games, you had planned to make the most of the time off. With a few social events scattered across the two days, you had been greatly looking forward to spending time with your teammates outside of the pitch, your friends, and at the time most importantly, Alexia. That all didn't seem enticing anymore, nor did it even seem possible.
For the time being though, as you stumbled your way out of the bathroom and fell into bed, the breakfast catch-ups and evening dinners were the last things on your mind. The only way you wanted to spend your time off, was wallowing in a trench of self-pity.
And that's how you found yourself in the gym of your apartment complex some fourty hours later.
Jab, jab, hook. Jab, jab, hook. Right hook, then a left uppercut, and another right hook to follow.
Punch after punch after punch after punch. There was no stopping you in this mindset. Not with the things your head was chanting, Alexia's words circling endlessly around your mind. They were what fuelled you right now, allowing you to lay into the punching bag before you with no second thought to the consequences.
And those consequences were sure to bring you a lot of pain later, in your hands that weren't wrapped up like they should, nevermind wearing gloves.
There was music playing through the earphones you had in, but for the life of you, you couldn't even register it right now. Your vision was blurred by pure rage, failing to recognise the cuts forming with every unrestrained punch and the bruises beginning to form along the bumps of each knuckle. You had tunnel vision on one thing and one thing only, and that was trying to dispel yourself of the all-consuming anger that had plagued you for almost two days now.
"Amiga! Basta, basta, hey." A soft voice broke through your trance as your earphones were delicately tugged from your ears. "Hey, you hear me?"
As your hands were gently taken ahold of by the figure to your right, you took a deep breath and leaned forward to rest your forehead against the bag. It was now that the woman beside you realised just how poor your breathing was, and she brought one of her hands to rub caringly up and down your back.
"Más despacio, relájate. Tómatelo con calma, vale? Relájate." Her voice soothed you a little, giving you the peace of mind you needed to set your breathing back to normal. "Are you with me?"
At that, you nod and take some more breaths before leaning up and taking in the person beside you. It was Mariona, who you shared the same apartment complex with, a fact you had forgotten about. In this moment, you weren't sure if you were thankful for that fact or if you resented it.
"Yes, with you." You wiped your face on the sleeve of your shirt before properly looking at her.
"Are you okay?" Mariona knew it probably wasn't the wisest thing to say, but for the moment as she collected her thoughts and did an internal assessment of the situation, it was more of a buffer than anything.
"Um, I guess there's no point lying, is there." You state flatly, the Spaniard smiling sadly at you and shaking her head. "Things aren't great... right now, so."
"Okay. That's okay." Mariona's smile was perhaps the brightest thing you'd seen, and with her looking at you the way she was, with so much care and a major lack of judgement, it was hard to reject the help she was soon to offer.
"Will you let me take care of you? I have a first aid kit in my apartment that I can use for these." She gestured down to your bruised and battered hands that were growing more painful by the second. "We can talk if you want, or you can at least let me patch you up and I can call somebody else. It's up to you."
You thought you knew what you wanted, and it wasn't this, but now that the offer is glaringly right in your face, your inner monologue urged you to fall to your knees and beg for assistance, for someone to scoop up all the negativity in your mind and lift the weight of it from your shoulders.
Isolating yourself from everyone, as you had done in the last days, wasn't healthy in the slightest, and rationally you knew the excuses you gave for doing so were completely unwarranted. Yes, you were the newest signing, and yes, Alexia was the captain and the glue of the team. However, that did not lessen your worth, you still deserved your spot on the team and you deserved to be treated with humanity. As Mariona had shown in the span of a few moments, your teammates wouldn't pick sides depending on how long you had and hadn't known people, and they certainly wouldn't treat you any less just because you had fallen out with - foregoing her team title - your girlfriend.
You were only human after all.
"I would appreciate that, thank you, Mariona."
Once more, the forward smiled politely at you and nodded, moving to wait at the door to the gym to wait for you as you collected up your things. Each movement of your hands had you grimacing in discomfort, a fact not lost on Mariona as she took the items, like your water bottle and your jumper, from you just to take the edge off a little.
You weren't too close with Mariona, you had gravitated towards the likes of Ingrid and Fridolina and Aitana when you joined (and Alexia, of course), but at the end of the day she was still your teammate and you often found yourself in a group with her in training since you were also a forward. The 28 year old was a hard-worker, yet she was also one of the most laid-back people you'd ever met, so in her presence it was hard not to allow yourself to relax even just a tiny bit. The aura that radiated off of her was oddly settling, and as you both made your way up to her apartment in relative silence, you were offered your first slice of serenity since that day not too long ago.
"Would you like a shower first? You look like you worked yourself hard in there." Mariona offered as she closed the door of her apartment behind you.
"No, it's okay, thanks." You gave her an awkward, tight-lipped smile, feeling somewhat embarrassed at having been caught in such a vulnerable moment - a moment when you were filled with such rage and negativity, that all you could do was lay into a harmless object like a woman possessed.
"Alright. Sit down at the counter, I will get all I need and be with you in a second."
With a sheepish nod, you complied and sat at the island counter in the kitchen, taking a moment to compose yourself before you knew an emotionally charged conversation was about to take place. You were tempted to take Mariona up on her offer to call somebody else, but honestly you were already exhausted and just wanted to get this whole situation off of your chest.
You'd been lugging it around for days now, encumbered by the weight of anger that, as time went on, was bleeding into exasperation and disconcertion because, in all honesty, you just wanted your girlfriend back. That was a little difficult though, because the woman in question was still being as cold as ever and for the life of you, you couldn't get a good read on her to figure out what her stand was on it all now. Whether she'd confided in Mapi or Irene or her sister or even Mariona, you had no idea, you just hoped there was still an ounce of her that cared for you in just a sliver of the way you did for her.
Though you hadn't seen or heard from her since that evening, her actions and her words were still fresh on your mind, and no matter how much time you spent mentally going through each doing of hers, it all made zero sense. In no way shape or form had Alexia portrayed such viciousness towards you, nor had she ever been so horrible and completely unfair in the time you had known her. Maybe it was a case of only knowing her for a short-ish amount of time, but her behaviour seemed so out of character that it set a feeling of uneasiness in your chest.
Hopefully, bumping into Mariona, someone who had been good friends with Alexia for a long time, would give you some insight into why the Barcelona captain had acted in such ways.
"Here we go. I'm sorry if I hurt you, but it is unfortunately a necessary evil in this case." Mariona purses her lips forgivingly as she pulls out two alcohol wipes that already have you wincing at the thought. "Are you ready?"
"Yep, just get it done with. Please."
You hold your breath as she rips open one of the packets, then you watch on as she takes hold of your left hand first and lightly runs it over and in between each knuckle. It hurts a hell of a lot, sure it does, but with the tenderness that the Spaniard treats you with, all you can focus on is trying not to burst into tears at the kindness you're faced with. Your mind has been anything but towards you, and the last proper human interaction you had that had been longer than a few brief minutes was your intense argument with Alexia. So this moment here was overwhelming, in many more ways than one.
"That's one done, your right hand looks a bit worse. Am I okay to carry on?"
Honestly, why couldn't you have fallen for someone like Mariona, instead of the ignorant, hot-headed woman you were in love with?
"Yeah, it's fine."
The silence between you both is weirdly not unsettling or awkward at all, instead it's relatively comforting and for the first time in days, your skin isn't crawling at the fact you're left alone with nothing but the sound of your endless cycle of thoughts.
The Spaniard standing beside you was correct, your right hand was indeed slightly worse off than your left, and that was only made more clear with each brush of the wipe, clearing away the blood only to show cuts in the divots of your knuckles and bruises covering the entirety of the right end of your hand.
"You have a good punch on you, ever thought about boxing instead of football?" Mariona joked, trying to uplift the heavy atmosphere in the room.
"No, wouldn't want to mess up this face." You replied, the forward laughing quietly and nodding.
"You are right, and football is much more easy to watch."
You supplied her with an agreeing smile, trying to hide your discomfort as she moved your hands around to assess the damage and make a plan of action.
"Okay, I think I will apply some antiseptic cream for your cuts and wrap them up with bandages. Then I will give you an ice pack for each hand, does that sound alright?"
"That's perfect, Mariona, thank you." You smile gratefully at her, and thought it's not a genuine smile, you hope she understands the appreciation you hold for her.
"It is not a problem. We look after each other at Barça, sabes? Anything you need, please do not be afraid of reaching out. To any of us."
And there is her segue into striking up the conversation you'd both danced around since she saw you.
You had to give it to her, she let a few moments pass by so it could come across as a bit less obvious, but nevertheless it happened just as you had expected.
"Are you comfortable talking to me about what happened in the gym?" She took note of the hesitation you greeted that question with, so she put the tube of cream down and faced you fully. "That was a bit concerning to walk in on, and I wouldn't be at peace with myself if I let you out of here without checking in on you."
"I... I guess, yeah." You sighed.
"Thank you. How would you like to start?" Mariona wondered with her ever-present smile, pairing it with a nonchalant shrug, further evidence of her care-free nature that continued to draw you in. "You can start talking about what is on your mind, or I can ask some leading questions to help. I am fine with anything, I just want you to leave here feeling a bit better."
Mariona had asked you a few moments ago if you had ever thought about boxing. Now, you wanted to ask her if she'd ever considered being a psychologist.
"I think it would help if you asked some questions, maybe." You decided, and she nodded instantly. She grabbed the tube of cream again and started applying it at the same time she uttered her first query.
"Do you normally practice on the bag without gloves on?" It was a very light one to start off with, perhaps something to be grateful for, but despite feeling a little calmer now, your mind was still in turmoil and wasn't fully recovered yet.
"No, I always wrap them up. I didn't even plan on using the bag today, it just... I was on the treadmill and then I saw it and wanted to use it. I wasn't really thinking straight, so. Yeah. This is the result of that." You took a sharp breath as the forward smoothed over a particularly bad cut with the antiseptic.
"Mhm. And, forgive me for this one, was it your intention to hurt yourself?"
That one took your breath a little.
"No, no, not at all. It wasn't even a thought in my head, I swear, I only wanted to get my anger out." You responded hastily, trying to convince her that you were relatively okay and that this was just a blip, and you didn't need some kind of intervention.
"Okay, thank you for being honest. I'm very glad to hear that, and I'll take your word for it." After finishing with your current hand, she squeezes it comfortingly and moves onto your other one. "Are you willing to tell me what's wrong? Why you needed to get some anger out?"
"Yeah... yeah, I am. I have to give you some context though, and I'd be really grateful if you kept it between us."
Mariona wasn't a gossip by any sorts, but as a result of the months of Alexia's words drilling into you of how nobody can know about you both, it was still an anxiety you had. Yet, the woman looking after you in such a heart-warming way was quite possibly the good samaritan you needed right now, her acts of kindness a reminder to not lose all hope with the world around you. You were well within your right to freak out in the way you had - not only were you in an entirely new city, learning a language you hadn't paid any mind to since school, but rather naively you had probably depended on Alexia more than you should have.
It was a lesson to be learnt, a mistake you wouldn't make again, though in the future even if you didn't recognise it yet, you'd look back on your time so far and wouldn't even regret it that much. After all, every moment of the past ten months had led you to the love of your life, and nothing was ever completely perfect. You would take a few bumps in the road if it meant you could end the season with a few medals around your neck and the greatest woman you'd ever met on your arm. Sure, you might not think the greatest of her right now, but you would mend it. You were sure you would. Hopefully.
"Of course, I won't tell a soul. You can tell me anything and no one will ever hear a word of it." Mariona reasurred you and though you hadn't really doubted her in the first place, you were still beyond grateful to hear that.
"So, um... Alexia and I have been in a relationship for a few months."
Yet again, Mariona continued to surprise you with how marvelous she was. Or maybe it was just an after effect of how much Alexia's words had got to you, because when the islander simply raised her eyebrows for a millisecond before nodding as you revealed your news, you're shocked at how much of a low-key reaction she gave. Whether she had an incredible poker-face or she just didn't care half as much as Alexia thought people would, your body sagged in relief at that minute response. As far as human beings go, this one right here wasn't too bad at all.
"And, for reasons I still don't understand, she was adamant that we keep it a secret. Like it was some kind of war tactic we had to keep safe. She made it out to be a make or break situation for us. But she told Eli and Alba less than a week after we made it all official, which I didn't think much of. I talked to her about it back then, wondering if it was just something she wanted to keep quiet while we were only in the dating stage, but she told me I still couldn't tell anyone. I guess because I was still relatively new here, with not many close friends and still with the mindset of trying to earn my place in the team, I agreed. Then as time went on I got a bit... annoyed with what Alexia wanted, but whenever I brought it up with her she would immediately shut the conversation down. I figured I could do it slyly, without telling her and without telling anyone any kind of intricate details of our relationship. So I took matters into my own hands."
You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose at this point, knowing it was here in the story where things got quite rocky. Mariona had finished applying the antiseptic at this point and was now getting the bandages ready, prepped with the medi-tape beside her to secure her wrapping. With each new fact you unveiled, she nodded along in understanding, completely on the same page with you. She didn't understand the actions of her friend as of yet, wondering why on earth she'd be so intensely secretive about her relationship to the point of not telling a single soul, but those were thoughts she wouldn't voice yet.
Mariona herself was in a private relationship, and she was happier than ever in it. However, it wasn't a secret. Sure, she wasn't posting photos of herself and Lia all over her social media, but if you looked close enough the facts were clearly there. Plus, pretty much everyone in her personal life and Lia's knew about the pair of them, and nobody was fussed. So why Alexia was acting in this way, she didn't have a single idea.
"I told my closest, most trusted friends that I was in a relationship, and that the name of the person I was with began with 'A'. That was genuinely all I gave. I warned them not to nag me with guesses of who it was as that would break my own personal rules, because after all I didn't want to go behind Alexia's back more than I already had. Then... Alexia went through my phone. She saw that my friends were making plans in the group chat back home, and then they wondered if I had plans with 'A' over the weekend."
"She went through your phone?" Mariona questioned, in disbelief at the invasion of privacy you'd experienced.
"Yes, she did. The text flashed up on my lock screen while I went to the bathroom, and then she just went on my phone and looked through my messages. I don't know how in depth she went, but..." You shrugged, averting your gaze to your aching hands, ultimately defeated by now; by Alexia and her stubbornness, by your own mind, and lastly by the fact you had been so suddenly caught out by one of your teammates.
It was at this point that the numbness dispelled and gave way for shame, embarrassment, and a bit of anxiety. After all, you didn't know anyone from the team in depth, you were still just getting to know them, and the first thing you had done when you arrived was dive head first into a relationship with their captain. There was an endless possibility to the vast amount of opinions each person could hold for you and how they felt about your relationship (even though there was almost no way at all they could know about it), and as the silent seconds ticked by, it started eating away at you.
Though, somehow, in some magical, god-given miraculous way, Mariona saw right through you. And from now on, you were to make it your life mission to give back to this messiah in the form of an attacking footballer from the Balearic Islands of Spain.
"Hey." She tapped on the counter in front of you to get your attention, achieving that when you look up at her. "You don't have to... to get defensive with me. I can bet what you're thinking, and you don't have to worry about all those thoughts. I am neutral here, helping a friend. I will not go and tell Alexia or anyone about this, not if you don't want me to. And trust me, I am on your side. I have never heard of her acting like this, I am shocked and slightly outraged too."
That was undeniably relieving to hear, for a number of reasons. But for the most part, you were glad to hear that because for the past few days your mind had been trying its damn hardest to manipulate you into thinking this whole commotion was your fault, that you were the fault-line in the relationship that had caused this rickety earthquake.
No, that was no longer a worry, because here was possibly the human example of sunshine saying she shared your view and was just as displeased as you when it came to the Catalan's behaviour. Now, knowing you had at least one person on your side, this obstacle felt a little easier to climb over.
"I do have one thing I'm wondering." After a curious hum from you, she explained. "Is there anything you would like me to do in this situation? Like, bring it up with Ale? Because for both of your sakes, I want this to be solved in the easiest way possible."
Was it a good idea, judging off of Alexia's already toxic reaction to the point where she refused to hear you out? Most likely, but, not only did you think Mariona could teach her a thing or two when it came to human interactions, there was a small (actually fairly large) part of you that wanted to fight back against Alexia's unfairness by showing her you simply were not one to be trampled on.
There were two people in this relationship, and in this moment you realised that rank, longevity, and status in a football team were measly things to worry about.
"I think that would be a good way to start. Having someone knock some sense into her." You answered, quietly delighted when Mariona laughed momentarily at your words.
"I will try to do exactly that, for you. Promise." For the millionth time that evening, you found yourself completely under the influence of that goddamn smile.
"You're very good at communication. Unnervingly good." The hearty laugh you got in response forced the first genuine smile out of you all evening.
"Well, when you have a very emotionally intelligent girlfriend, you have to keep up."
"If you could give Alexia some lessons, I would appreciate that a lot."
"I will talk to her. Don't worry."
You left Mariona's apartment not too long after, both hands wrapped precariously and feeling significantly better than you did during that gym incident, finding solace in the fact there was now a fairly solid plan of action.
The only thing you could do now, was wait.
That was harder said than done, because for the rest of that day you didn't hear from Mariona at all. Nor did you hear from her before training the day after, and for the first time since you arrived, you were wracked with nerves as you walked into the building.
Not once during the whole session did Alexia glance towards you. Not once did she even acknowledge your existence. It drove you crazy, her acting as if you were invisible. As if she couldn't get anymore fucking immature. It took a lot of self control to not act like a petulant child towards her, desperate to piss her off in a quarter of the way she had to you, but you were better than that.
So when she rocked up outside your apartment later that day, with freshly dyed blonde hair that was styled in a frustratingly attractive way, a bouquet of chrysanthemums in one hand and a takeaway bag in the other, it took all of your strength to not slam the door in her stupidly hot face.
"What are you doing here?" You asked flatly, followed by a sigh that clearly indicated she was the last person on earth you wanted to see right now.
Well, with that haircut, maybe not the last person...
"I have a lot of explaining to do, I know that. And a lot of grovelling too. I was hoping you didn't hate me that badly to let me in." Alexia smiled sadly down at you, a slight shrug to her shoulders when she speaks.
Your mind goes back and forth for a few moments, briefly running through pros and cons of letting her in, before you decide fuck it, worst comes to worst you can show off your new boxing skills.
Eyebrows raised, you walk away from the door back towards your sofa, leaving her to wonder what to do for a moment. Ultimately, she decides to slowly follow after you once she'd softly closed the door. A quick glance around your apartment tells her you hadn't eaten yet, and she takes that as a small win before heading towards where you were seated.
"I brought your favourite takeout. Would you like to me dish it up?" She asks, a little disheartened when you shake your head.
"If you came here to talk, we're gonna talk." You state firmly, waiting expectantly for her to come sit with you.
She should have expected this really, knowing how royally she'd screwed it up with you and how disgusting she had acted. But hearing you speak so sternly was a bit unnerving, even if Alexia did recognise she more than deserved it.
A second later, she nods and places her items down on your dining table before making her way over to you. Rightfully so, she leaves some space between you both when she sits down, and you have to stifle a laugh as to not ruin your façade with how on edge she looks.
"Uh, so, me first, or..." Staying silent, you raised a daring eyebrow at her, thoroughly enjoying putting her through this slight torture. "Sí, okay, me first."
Anxiously, she wipes her clammy palms on her thighs. Then she cleared her throat, glancing at you periodically before taking a deep breath and starting her explanation.
"I am well, well aware of how bad I have acted towards you. I want to make that clear first. I acted like an idiot, to the worst degree. I was selfish, rude, I invaded your privacy, and I completely fucked it all up."
Hm, not too bad of a start.
"Congratulations, you took responsibility!" You responded sarcastically, fighting the urge to give her a round of applause too. Then you're fighting off a bubble of laughter at the nervous chuckle she gives before speaking again.
"I will regret my actions until the day I die. I promise you, I will never behave like that ever again. I've never been more ashamed of myself in my life, and knowing it's you who I acted like that towards makes it a hundred times worth. Because, you..." She shakes her head and waves her hands in the air like she's speechless. "You're you. You're the most selfless person I know. Your heart is something I do not deserve to have, because of how pure and kind and beautiful it is. You are so caring, and you love with every fibre of your being. Not only that, but you're so open, and I really admire that, because that is something I'm not. I'm... I'm ashamed to admit that even now I'm still anxious, and being secretive is how I've lived all my life. I want to be more open and care-free, I really do, it's just... hard for me."
With each word, each compliment, and each reason she gives, your hardened exterior towards her is slowly getting chipped away. You're not a grudge holder, it's not in your nature. And no matter how much you tried to fight it, it was inexplicably hard to not get wrapped up in her.
"Mariona... Mariona said you didn't even tell your friends it was me you were with. She said you only told them my name began with A, and that was it."
Alexia trusted Mariona of course, that was something that naturally occurred having known her for so long, but she wanted to get confirmation from you.
"I did. They don't know it's you I'm with." You told her, and if it was somehow possible, Alexia's heart shattered just that bit more.
"Well, I'm sorry, amor. I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions, it was really stupid and unfair of me. I really appreciate that you didn't break my trust, like I thought you had. I... that just shows how little I valued you. And I swear, that's something you'll never have to doubt again. I value you more than anyone in my life. I have a reason for why I was... more than reluctant to tell people about us. But I don't know if you want to hear it. I don't want you to think it's some flimsy excuse."
"Well, I mean, you may as well say it now." You scoffed, watching as she gulped nervously before nodding.
"My last relationship... with Jenni. That's why I'm so worried about telling people. Because even now, years after we ended our relationship that I would never ever want to go back to, people still talk about us, comment on our posts, make edits of us, and freak out about every little fucking interaction between us. It drives me crazy, even now, when I know I should not let it get under my skin, but it does and I can't stop it."
She shrugs dismissively as she talks, eyes cast down on her hands as she fidgets with the rings on her fingers. It's clearly a topic for her that's hard to discuss, and you want to reach out and take hold of one of her hands, but you don't want to distract her.
"When I was with Jenni, I was nowhere near as 'famous' as I am now. Now, I get the most vile and intrusive articles written about me, there are always cameras on me, paparazzi trying to figure out where I am at all times, and it really worries me because I don't want to involve you in that. If the media started writing things about you that were even just half as nasty as the things they've said about me, I would never be able to live with myself. It would eat me up, amor, I don't want you to go through that."
Okay, out of all the overthinking you've done in the last three days, your mind had not mustered up this point of view. This was undeniably sweet, a stark contrast to the way she'd treated you during the argument. You'd been with Alexia long enough to be more than familiar with how she acted on her anxieties in rather unhealthy ways for herself with harmful consequences for those around her as a result. Most likely, you realised, her recent behaviour was a demonstration of that very fact.
"And though those reasons shouldn't excuse my behaviour, because I should never have acted like that, I hope it gives you a tiny bit of insight into my head and allows you to recognise my actions came from a place of love, not malice. I showed it in completely the wrong way, but I swear to you from this moment on I will treat you better than I ever have, if you let me live up to that promise."
A shaky breath leaves the woman beside you, signifying the end of her ramble. And, to be honest, you'd forgiven her long before she finished speaking.
"Thank you for opening up to me. I forgive you, I do, but I won't forget how you treated me. If you ever show even a hint of that behaviour ever again, I'm out, Alexia, you must know that." You give her a clear warning, despite the fact your heart is crying out for you to just jump right back into her arms.
"I do know, I absolutely do know that." She seems to make the leap for you, as she shuffles along the sofa and gently takes ahold of both your hands. Your wounded hands. "Amor, what... what happened?"
Her voice is filled with concern, immediately overcome with nausea as a result of the worry she feels at the sight. However, that's nothing compared to the guilt she feels when you tell her what happened.
"Oh, um... an unfortunate run in with a punching bag not too long after our argument." You reveal sheepishly.
Alexia's heart drops. It drops from her chest, to the ground, through the core of the earth, and all the way down to China.
"This... this is because of me?" She whispers the question like she's terrified to utter the words. She's even more terrified of the answer.
"I guess. Yeah. I had to get my anger out some way, and I'm sure you're glad it wasn't your face." You try to joke, but it lands flatter than a pancake.
"Amor, I..." She can't find the right words within her to even attempt to apologise.
The great thing about mental health, was that 99% of the time you couldn't see it. That meant Alexia couldn't see the psychological damage she had caused you with her words.
But this, this was concrete evidence of just how much her treatment had affected you. She had done so much damage to your self-esteem, that you had no choice but to lash out to the point of injury. That, she feared, she would never get over.
"I guess Mariona failed to mention this part to you." Another pitiful attempt to lift the mood.
"She took care of you?" Alexia asked tentatively, the tiniest bit relieved when you nod.
In a split second, her arms were wound tightly around you as she tugged you into her lap. A rush of Catalan spilled from her, of which you gathered were words of apologies and sweet nothings to convey her intense regret. You didn't catch a word, not too familiar with the language despite playing for the pride of Catalunya, but you got the gist quite quickly and it didn't take you a moment longer before your arms were wrapped around her neck.
You were flooded with relief now that you were back in her hold, the embrace finally silencing the relentless voice in your head that had been going non-stop for days now. There were tears dripping onto your neck though, something that has you furrowing your brow and urging her to lift her head up.
"Ale, what's this for?" You asked, delicately wiping some of the tears that were overflowing.
"I just... I fucked it up so bad. So bad. Dios mío, you've ended up hurting yourself because of it. I'm just so sorry. I'm so so sorry."
Alexia falls apart then, breaking out into sobs that, though it's a rather a harsh thing to admit (not that you ever would, verbally) really exemplify her guilt and regret, and tie off her apology. You hate seeing her cry, hate seeing her so ruined, but all you can do now is hug her just as tight back and hope your words provide her some comfort.
"I forgive you, Ale, I do. My hands aren't your fault, it's a result of me not being sensible when letting my anger out. It's not your fault, mi corazón, not your fault at all."
You carry on spewing words of comfort for her until her cries finally subside a few minutes later. How she rubs at her eyes is something you find adorable, the way she does so reminding you of a young child. Your own hands follow her calloused ones, treating her with the same care she had complimented you on not so long ago. It warms her heart to no end, and it offers her a little reassurance of the fact you don't hate her guts.
"It's my fault a little bit." She mumbles, and there's a speckle of humour in it that you're not hesitant to jump on.
"Maybe a tiny bit." You whisper scandalously, smiling at the tearful laugh she lets out. "But I don't resent you for it. If I did, we wouldn't be in this position right now, okay?"
"Whatever you say, amor." Alexia nods, a semi-genuine smile on her face as she leans forward to rest her forehead on your shoulder.
"There's one thing I need from you for us to move past this." You state seriously a few quiet moments after.
She lifts her head up and nods vigorously, prepared to do just about anything you asked for if it meant she could love you for the rest of her life.
"I want to be able to tell people that are important to us. My family, my friends. Your family and friends. Our teammates. I'm not asking for us to go public on social media, I'm not asking for anything like that. I just want us to be more open. I want to be able to walk around Barcelona with you, like we did together when we started out dating. Because those moments with you, where you showed me your favourite restaurants and cafes and places special to you, they're some of my favourite memories with you. I just long for us to have a normal relationship, not one kept in the safety of our apartments behind closed doors. Because it's embarrassing and... and soul destroying being treated like I'm invisible. Just... treat me like a human fucking being in training, please? In public?"
It felt rather humiliating to be begging for such normal things, but that was the exact word you would use to describe this whole thing for you. Humiliating. To be treated like you had by, arguably, the sole person who shouldn't treat you like that, was something you never wished to experience again. Because, if you did? Well, there was simply no coming back.
But, you supposed, being in love was all about taking chances on people and relationships couldn't be built without a steady foundation of trust. That's all you could do now; trust in Alexia to nurture your heart like a delicate blossom where she cherishes every petal with gentle devotion.
"I will. Mi amor, I will do that and more. I will do anything you want me to, I promise that I will change my bad habits so that you never have to suffer at my hands again. I will love you like it's the last thing I'll do. You could never be invisible to me, you never were. From the first time I saw you, in your two-sizes-too-big Barça jumper on your first day, you've been everything but invisible to me."
Finally, the nail in the coffin to this whole ridiculous thing. And man, were you glad to see the back of it.
"As long as you don't embarrass me by one-upping me with your flawless free-kicks."
Despite the push to the shoulder you give her, you giggle and pull her back in for another hug. You'd been deprived of her embrace for far too long, and you planned to make up for it.
"I can't make any promises, unfortunately." You teased, grinning into the skin of her neck as her hands splayed out over your back, rubbing up and down comfortingly.
"I think I will take that." Alexia murmured, hugging you just that bit tighter before she leaned back. She moved her hands from your back to softly cradling your face, her eyes jumping from each feature to feature, trying to commit her favourite art piece in the world to her memory. Then, she met your gaze, and the sincerity and earnest present there was breathtaking. "We'll be okay?"
It was asked in such a vulnerable tone, you couldn't help but smile down at her.
"We'll be okay, Ale."
Going into training the next day, there was a spring in your step. Alexia had stayed over at yours the previous night, near enough refusing to leave. That meant she was wearing the same trousers as the day before along with one of your sweaters that, to your amusement, was evidently slightly too small for her as the cuffs ended just shy of her wrists. Call it your revenge perhaps, but as you both arrived at training together, chatting freely with content smiles on your face, it felt like a new leaf had been turned.
Alexia had made many mistakes with you, that she knew. She also knew she had no more chances, so she was going to try her absolute hardest to never act like such a fool again, even if it killed her. However, the shy smile on your face when she bounded up to you after Jona demanded the team to get into pairs for 1-on-1 practice, was enough proof for her to realise that it wouldn't be such a shame to go out of this world as a result of your love.
She almost came to regret that though when you handed her ass to her on a plate with each of your attempts to get past her. Because, quite frankly, you did embarrass her. Crossing her sides and body-checking her and out-skilling her each time was satisfying to no end, and it was exactly what you needed really. At one point, there was an ounce of worry that perhaps Alexia would be annoyed, but that dissipated immediately when she would laugh and slap her own forehead each time she was outshone.
That tiny speck of worry was completely forgotten about when, after the last attempt of the day, Alexia ran up behind you and lifted you up off the ground with her arms around your torso. Her mouth found its way to your ear as she took a few steps whilst carrying you, squeezing you tightly once.
"Never embarrass me like that again." She murmured jokingly, fighting back a grin as you laughed unabashedly in her hold. Afterwards, she put you down and moved to walk closely beside you, heading back to the main building as Jona called the end of training.
"You're the one that partnered up with me, Ale." You nudged her in the side with your elbow, gazing up at her with an adoring look that had Alexia's heart jumping in her chest.
"Maybe, but I only have one thing to say."
"What's that?" You hummed.
"Thank god for Mariona." She murmured, smiling as you giggled and nodded.
That smile was wiped off her face when an arm flung around her shoulders not a second later.
"Thank god for who?"
"I don't need your bragging right now, Mario, you're ruining a nice moment."
"I made this nice moment happen, Ale, you better thank me properly soon."
With that, the islander left just as quickly as she had arrived. When Alexia noticed the teasing grin on your face at the interaction, she shoved at your shoulder with a grumble under her breath.
"She really got through to you, then?"
"Oh yeah, absolutely. She beat my ass."
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noblechaton · 2 days
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hiya. bit of a personal post here that's been a long time coming but
a while back now my younger sibling finally got an issue properly diagnosed as a lung disease and as such, she requires a double lung transplant - my family is asking for help through this gofundme page here. it'd mean the world to me if y'all help her out in one way or another, be it donating any amount or just reblogging this post around so that others might
a lil more detail on things under the cut
basically she'd had this persistent cough for a while and tho she'd gone to the doctor a few times about it, they wrote it off each time as allergies or something stupid without really looking at her - until a few months ago now when she finally went to urgent care, then to a proper emergency room and they discovered that her lungs were essentially ruined. idk if they ever discerned by what exactly but it doesn't really matter at this point as her breathing is heavily restricted and her heart is kinda working overtime
the good news is that she's been on oxygen for a bit and she's also on the waitlist for the transplant already - but the call for it can come at basically anytime between now and next year, meaning my family kinda has to stay ready at a moment's notice which is what this gofundme is for - to help them now, when the time comes, and afterwards, as the situation is as u can imagine very stressful and demanding of all of us, especially of her
but she's been brave, strong. and she hasn't deserved any of this, given just how good a person she is. how much she's tried to help others, to do for others, to keep our family together. I honestly have no idea how she's kept her smile up for as long as she has and I've struggled with making this post in large part bc of how paintful it's been to see her go thru that which she never asked for, that she truly doesn't deserve. she's struggled, it's been hard, but she's still going all the same
so I feel it my responsibility to at least try and help her out beyond the day to day odds and ends and perhaps use whatever audience I somehow have to lend her a hand as she needs it most. so again please if you are in a position where u can donate - consider dropping some at this link here, any amount helps right now and even if u can't, reblogging to get the word around would help a bit too
thank u to those of u who read this and donate or even just share the post/link around - I truly, deeply appreciate any help my family can get
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suashii · 2 days
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— 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝑜𝓌𝓁 ౨ৎ
boothill x f!reader. 2k wc. ノ sfw ノ vaguely suggestive bits ノ fluff ノ non-canon compliant ノ farmhand!boothill ノ pet names ( darlin’ + sweetheart :3 )
previous part ౨ৎ masterlist ౨ৎ next part
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it’s late—you know so because the sky has turned to a deep navy. you can hear the crickets chirping through the open window, feel the cool night breeze whisper against your skin. beyond those telling signs, your eyelids are beginning to feel heavy. they’re screaming at you to close them but you know that if you do, you’ll fall asleep in a second. you can’t do that now, not when you’re on the phone giving your weekly update to your friend back home. 
“so,” her voice crackles over the line, “how are things in farmville?”
you snort at meg’s nickname for the little town you’ve come to know as a second home. as much as she pokes fun at the idea of having a ranch to run away to, she’s been supportive of your decision to retreat here for solace. she keeps you in the loop when it comes to the drama unfolding in the office and listens attentively when you tell her what you’re up to on the farm.
you have a feeling she might be offended that you didn’t tell her this bit sooner.
“fine.” you draw the word out, rolling onto your other side on the couch as if repositioning will give you enough time to stall. despite not being able to see her face, you imagine that the woman is wearing an expression that says something along the lines of i know you’re hiding something. even through the phone, she can see through you. “i might have gotten a concussion a few days ago.”
she gasps and you can hear her slap her hand over her mouth. you’re sure if she could, she’d reach through the phone and shake you by the shoulders before thinking better of it and rushing out a string of apologies. though, she can’t, so she settles on questioning you instead. “what happened? are you okay? why the hell are you just now telling me?”
you relay the series of events to her—how it happened, boothill finding you, your visit to the doctor, and boothill playing nurse since then. her worry seems to dissipate as you explain and by the time you’re done, she’s laughing.
“what are you giggling about?” you ask her, but a little part of you already knows. boothill’s name always seems to make its way into your conversations and since the start of these weekly calls, meg has held onto the belief that you’re harboring a crush on the farmhand. you brush her off every time she suggests that you like him but like a leech, the thought always latches on and lingers.
“probably hard to deny your feelings now, huh?” you can hear the smile in her voice. you pucker your lips in annoyance. you didn’t think telling her about the way boothill makes you feel would result in meg throwing it back in your face at any given moment. though, you suppose you can’t be surprised. she’s frustrated that you’ll admit those feelings to her and not him, that you won’t act on them. “he’s already taking care of you like you’re his girlfriend—how romantic!”
“it’s not romantic,” you tell her, shaking your head, “he’d do that for anyone.”
“even better!” meg squeals. the shrill sound makes you pull the phone away from your ear and you only return it to its former position when the woman lowers her voice. “if he’s like that with everyone, that means he isn’t trying to impress you. he’s just a compassionate, caring guy who happens to have a thing for you.”
you chew on your cheek as you contemplate her words. you’ve never doubted that he’s a good guy—you’ve seen too many instances of his big heart in action to think otherwise, though, the part about boothill having a “thing” for you is a bit harder to believe. sure, he’s called you pretty numerous times, unintentionally held your hands on a couple of occasions, but that means nothing, at least when it comes to whatever feelings he might have for you. you’ve convinced yourself that most of the things he does that make your heart flutter or your cheeks burn are simply to get a reaction out of you—a little embarrassment for the sake of his entertainment.
“ugh, when are you going to be brave and spill your guts to him?” meg’s voice cuts through your thoughts.
“never! i’m not telling him anything.” you close your eyes and take a deep breath to ground yourself. “i don’t know how long i’ll be here and, more importantly, i have no idea if he even likes me.”
“and you’ll never find out if you keep running away.”
you’re about to tell her that you aren’t running away or avoiding anything but you press your lips together before the words can hit the air. because you have been—you can recall a number of times you have in the past and you’re even thinking about it now, leaving without coming to terms with your feelings or figuring out if boothill reciprocates them.
“i’m not—” not running away? not going to tell him? not ready to tell him? you huff out a sigh, one that’s a mixture of frustration and confusion. “not now, meg.”
“that’s fine,” she assures you, her voice soft. “i just don’t want you to regret anything.”
“i know.” you nod even though she can’t see you.
she’s right. you’ll regret it if you don’t say anything, if you go home without facing your feelings head-on. the what ifs and what could have beens will follow you there, mercilessly haunting your mind.
“it’s getting late,” you tell meg, “i think i’m going to go to bed.”
“sure,” she hums. there’s a brief pause like she wants to say more but she settles on, “good night.”
“g’night.” you pull your phone away to end the call and toss the device on the other end of the couch. you should go upstairs and get in bed like you planned to but all these thoughts so fresh in your head make you feel like falling asleep won’t come easy tonight. slumping against the arm on the couch, you let out a groan, one quiet enough to not wake your grandpa and boothill upstairs but loud enough to grant you the slightest bit of relief.
though, the sound is cut off by another. it comes from the kitchen and you sit up to peer over the back of the couch to see if you’re hearing things—you’d prefer it that way. your fantasy comes to an end when you see boothill standing at the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and closing the door once he’s finished.
he meets your gaze and shoots you a smile before uncapping the water and taking a few gulps. it’s strange seeing him at this hour; he usually sleeps early so he can wake up with the sun. you rarely ever see him wearing anything but his jeans and his top of choice but the look is traded in for pajamas now—if you can call nothing but a pair of boxers pajamas.
you gasp at the sight and turn around. he just wanders around the house half-naked? carelessly risks running into you while wearing nothing but his underwear? you might not have heard him but he certainly must have seen you stretched out on the couch or at the very least heard you talking to meg on the phone.
the call.
you quickly turn around to face him once more.
“how long have you been there?” the question comes out rushed but you’re frantic to know if he was around to hear you talking about him.
he shrugs and swallows, setting his bottle on the counter before leaning against it. “i don’t know. long enough to hear you’re having some boy troubles.”
the confession makes your heart jump into your throat. you choose not to expand on it, instead reprimanding him for eavesdropping. “it’s rude to listen in on conversations you aren’t part of.”
“my apologies.” he raises his hands in mock surrender. “i just didn’t wanna interrupt.”
you stare him down in an attempt to read his expression and the look in his eyes. his perpetual smile is in place like usual but nothing else about his countenance seems knowing. he’s either very good at hiding it or he didn’t pick up on the fact that he was the one you’re talking about.
“want some advice?” boothill speaks up, tilting his head in a question of its own.
you look at him for a second before a laugh bubbles up from your chest, permeating the air. boothill’s smile slowly falls and that’s the last you see of him before turning your back to him. it seems a little more polite to laugh at him if it isn’t in his face.
he doesn’t stay at his place in the kitchen, feet carrying him to the back of the couch. you’re still laughing when he gets there. he’s never heard you laugh like this before—not at anything he’s said or done. as captivated as he is by the sound, he’s a touch more curious as to what brought it about. a cushion in between you, he leans over the back of the couch to ask, “what’s so funny?”
“i’m sorry.” you try to clear the humor from your voice but it lingers with your explanation. you turn your head to look boothill in the eye. “it’s just—what do you know about problems of the male variety?”
“hello?” he straightens up and gestures to himself and it’s only then that you remember how…undressed he is. that’s enough to sober you up from your humor. “you’re looking at a man, sweetheart.”
you don’t need him to tell you that—you’re more than aware of that. you just meant that he doesn’t seem like the type to help people out of romantic hardships, rather, he’s the one who causes them. strangely enough, though, you consider hearing his perspective. after all, he is the subject of your “boy troubles” as boothill called them.
“so, how about it?” he rounds the couch and plops down on it beside you, leaving a safe amount of space between the two of you. you hold his gaze, light gray irises glowing like stars in the darkness of the living room. “wanna hear my opinion?”
your heart rate quickens and you can’t tell why. because he’s this close to you and practically naked? because those gray eyes are boring into you, urging you to hear him out? because his advice could be the courage you need to admit your feelings or the very deterrent to keep you from doing so? 
maybe you aren’t quite brave enough to spill your guts yet but it’s time for you to stop being so scared of the what ifs. “okay, go for it.”
that seems to be the answer boothill was looking for, if his growing smile is any evidence. he doesn’t waste any time sharing his insight. “i say throw caution to the wind, tell him how you feel. and if he doesn’t feel the same way, well then, that’s his loss. because you, darlin’, are a catch. any man would be lucky to have you.”
you know boothill isn’t one to sugarcoat his words. every word he says, he means. is that the case here, too? any man would be lucky to have you—would he feel the same if that man was him?
“i’m headin’ to bed.” he groans as he stands up, stretching his arms above his head, mouth falling open in a yawn. you watch him silently, pondering his words. he doesn’t comment on your silence, doesn’t bother to tease you about your staring. all he does is offer you a wink before telling you, “sweet dreams.”
just as quietly as he appeared, he’s gone.
you let out a shaky breath that you didn’t know you were holding. instead of following boothill’s lead and going to sleep, you rest your head on the arm of the couch and turn your eyes up to the ceiling. your heart is still beating wildly against your rib cage but it’s not bad nerves this time around, it’s anticipation.
courage it is.
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thanks for reading! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!
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werecreature-addicted · 14 hours
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Ok, imagine this, werewolf is in love with his neighbor, a human girl, everything would be fine if it weren't for the fact that the girl is a single mother of a little boy, and I'm not saying this because it's a bad thing for a woman to be a single mother, I'm saying this because of their neighbors, the other human neighbors have the mistaken idea that werewolves are cruel to other men's children, even propagating the absurd idea that werewolves kill the children of other males when they are interested in the mother. Of course our werewolf would never do that, werewolves would never harm a woman's offspring, so he has to be very careful and almost transparent to be able to woo the girl without her thinking that he is a danger to her or his little son
he meets your child first. he's just trying to carry in groceries, all of them in one trip of course, when he hears a small "can I help?" he looks down and sees a human pup with big wide eyes and a missing front tooth. He'd known that knew people had moved in next door a little while ago but he didn't know they came with a kid.
"Sure," he says and hands the kid one bag to carry as they trek up the driveway. it's a short walk and he can easily do it himself, but the werewolf thinks the boy is cute, so young yet already helpful and determined to prove his strength. what a good pack leader he would be one day. the kid drops the bag by his door and then runs back to his yard to play. The werewolf had never paid much attention to his next-door neighbors but he would start now.
He meets you a few days later and wow. he's never met a human so pretty. you seem nervous, a little frazzled from the recent move, but sweet. he tells you about your son helping him with the groceries and offers to help you any time you need anything, just looking for an excuse to see you again.
And you do need his help a lot around the house. it's hard trying to do everything yourself especially when you're raising a little boy. Luckily your neighbor is always there whether it's to replace some shingles on your roof or just play with your son for a little so you can get five minutes to yourself. you won't lie, you do pick specific favors to ask of him. sure you could do your own yard work, but there's just something so sexy about a sweaty hard-working werewolf.
He's so sweet he almost instantly becomes a part of your life. You can tell he's interested in you, you're not an idiot, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't like him too. It's flattering to have someone clearly so into you even knowing you have a child.
You spend of late nights confiding in him and before you know it you start to think you're falling for him. then you happen to mention your blooming romance to one of your coworkers and they inform you, horrified, that if a werewolf is interested in a woman with a child they're known to kill the child so the mother can focus on raising the werewolf pups. The story chills you, you'd heard similar things about lions in the wild, and maybe it was true for all preditors.
you can't help but spiral a little bit, you've been leaving your baby alone with a hungry wolf. but... somehow you don't believe it. He had never shown himself to be violent or even anything but loving towards your son. and you knew he was closer to human than some wild animal. he wouldn't really do something like that, would he?
When you get home you're a little jumpy around your neighbor, which he notices. you don't let your son go over to his yard to play and you don't invite him over for dinner, which is odd, to say the least. but he doesn't push. You feel stupid, avoiding him like this, why should you be scared of someone who'd been nothing but kind?
you go out onto your porch that night and see him out looking up at the stars. when he hears you he waves you over.
"it's a pretty night," you comment sitting beside him, awkwardly.
"prettier with you here," he teases, you feel your face go hot and you have to look away, he laughs at your embarrassment. you're quiet for a long time before you finally bring up what was on your mind.
you don't come out and say "Hey are you going to murder my child to get closer to me?" but instead you ask him:
"you flirt with me a lot, but does it ever bother you that I have a child? does that make you hesitate to have a real relationship?" it's still blunt but it's not quite as accusatory.
"I've always wanted kids, I love your son, I'm not going to run because of it, I want you and you having a son doesn't change that," he assures you. A few months later you'll admit exactly what your coworker said, he was horrified you ever thought he'd be capable of hurting the boy he views as his son, and he tells you in no uncertain terms that he would die to protect the both of you. no harm is coming to either of you while he's here to protect his family.
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dollypopup · 2 days
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"Then what good am I to you?"
have y'all ever considered that, yes, whilst Penelope has loved him for a very long time. . .she has not shown that to him? that she has not made it clear to him in any way? already, all he feels he is good for is providing because of how he grew up, a chronic middle child vying for attention, receiving positivity when he brings levity or cracks a joke or brings a gift or demonstrates a kindness? that the people pleaser in him feels he has to provide a dance or a laugh or ease or even just stepping to the side so he isn't a bother? have y'all considered that he was straight up ghosted for months? so when he *could not* provide anything, he was cast aside and forgotten? even by her?
have y'all considered that Colin has the idea that if he is not doing something for someone, they have no use for him, and so must be shown that is not true? that he feels he doesn't deserve forgiveness or time unless he has something of worth to offer as leverage for it? that all of the ways Penelope has cared for him have been from afar?
Penelope needed to know that Colin loves her, so he chases down her carriage. So he professes his feelings on his knees. So he strips her bare in front of a mirror to show her- see what I see, you're beautiful. So he informs her own MOTHER that he loves her and she can't talk smack about his future wife. He has so many big gestures for her to make her understand he's serious about her, and that she matters to him for who she is, no strings attached. He apologizes for hurting her feelings after she tells him off, he offers her his help in building her confidence, he helps her family in Season 2, expecting nothing in return, and even in Season 1, he professes how good she is.
But from his perspective. . .he did not even KNOW Penelope had feelings for him when he raced off after her to beg her not to marry someone else. As far as he knew, she considered them friends, and even under the willow, she told him distance would be best after they kissed. She didn't reply to his letters on his travels. She showed him that their intimacy didn't affect her the way it affected him because she continued to pursue a different engagement. She had even said their kiss wouldn't mean anything and when he says he cannot stop thinking of it, she does not assure that it meant a great deal to her, too. She informs that she wants to be more than friends, but nothing else. What is he meant to think? Even if she says she has loved him for a long time, he's been told before that someone loves him. . .and then it ended up not being true.
Penelope has waited for years, since she first met him, to love him in the light, and she has an opportunity in Part 2 to do so. To show Colin that she loves him: assuredly, fervently, loudly.
And I, for one, cannot fucking WAIT to see it.
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laligraves · 20 hours
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a wedding in june
cult leader!joel miller x virgin fem!reader
[18+] | wc: ~3.2k summary: You run from Joel on your wedding day. masterlist | AO3
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warnings: HBO Joel, TLOU AU, dubious consent (i'm so serious don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), some proofreading, post-outbreak, commune/cult vibes, arranged marriage, mentions of infected/gore/violence, no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, some face slapping, loss of virginity (and some pain associated to that but only a few sentences), outdoors sex, oral (f! receiving), squirting, unprotected sex, creampie
a/n: i promise i have other ideas rattling in my brain besides dubious consent 😭 i have a whole wip chart with tons of ideas that i hope i can write
You run faster at the sound of shouts behind you. Sweat drips down your temples and fear makes your heart beat erratically, but you don’t dare stop. 
The outer gates are only a few more hundred feet away. All you need to do is get past the trees and you’ll be able to escape. You don’t have time to think about how this will be your first time venturing outside of the commune. 
Everything you were taught about the outside, about the orphaned souls and monsters that lurk, none of that matters. Not when you’re more terrified at what your future will bring.
Joel Miller. The man who in just a few months, cleared away the hundreds of infected in the nearby valley. Joel, who in the commune’s monthly hunting trips, manages to find everything from venison to medication. 
The times you’ve been close enough to Joel, to feel the heat emanating off his body, you can almost taste the violence that simmers beneath his skin. Instead of it scaring you, like it would any sane person, it excites you. 
The longing in his gaze whenever he looks at you makes you dizzy. There’s a pulse of heat between your thighs each and every time, one that will only go away after you ride your pillow until exhaustion. Whenever you face him again, after you’ve dreamed of him taking you, you wonder if he knows what you do in the privacy of your room. 
There’s no denying that he’s saved this commune from the brink of starvation. Of course everyone, including you, is grateful for the kindness of a stranger. But in the months he’s been here, their gratitude has turned into pure devotion. 
Your parents practically pushed you into his arms the moment Joel asked about you. Normally quite level headed, your parents have begun to treat Joel like a God. You thought Joel would find their insistence of marriage off putting, that he would be an honorable man and let you choose your own path in this place.  
You were wrong. 
Your parents saw it as an honor that out of all the women in the commune, Joel chose you. The books and pretty dresses he finds on his trips are only a sign of how devoted a husband he will be, at least that’s what your mother tried to tell you.  
And the times you tried to speak to Joel and get him to rethink this marriage? Don’t worry about it, pretty girl, was all he would say before he’d send you off. 
You can imagine him in your bed and fantasize about him in your dreams, but to be his wife? Especially now that he’s been chosen to lead the commune—you want nothing to do with that. 
A denser path to your right has you changing directions, wishing to throw them off your trail. You can still make it if you run through here. 
Except it’s too late. Strong arms grab and push you into the lush grass. 
“No,” you scream, “let me go!” 
“What’s wrong with you,” Joel snaps, “don’t you know what’s out there?” 
“I don’t care,” you scream out childishly, “I’d rather be out there than be with you!” 
He climbs on top of you, grabbing your wrists in one hand and pressing them above your head into the grass. He leans on your thighs to keep you still and grabs your chin with the other hand. 
“Listen to me,” he insists, “you don’t know what you’re sayin’. You know nothin’ of what life is like outside these walls.” 
He digs his fingers into your cheeks and shakes your head slightly since you refuse to look at him. 
“Joel, did you find her?” your father calls out from a distance. 
“Yeah, I got ‘er.” 
“Great, let’s go back and finish the celebration–” 
“No,” Joel calls out. 
“Joel–” 
“Leave,” Joel interrupts. 
He continues sitting on you, putting most of his weight on your trembling body. The white dress you're wearing, a satin piece that he found on their last hunting trip into the town, rides up dangerously close to your panties. 
“I need to teach you a lesson in respect, wife,” Joel growls. 
He stands and just when you think you can escape again, he yanks you up with him. Joel holds your arm tight with one hand while taking off his belt with the other. He spins you around and brings your wrists behind your back, using the belt to bind them together. 
“You wanna see what’s out there? Since you think you’re so tough?” Joel asks, not waiting for an answer and instead dragging you to the gate. “I do everything to make this place safe for you, darlin’. But this is how you repay me? Runnin’ off at the first chance you get?” 
You’re surprised at his words and the sincerity of his voice. He sounds almost… sad. 
“Practically beggin’ to be out there with those fuckers instead of me?” he continues, “The only man who can truly protect you?” 
You reach the gate and your heartbeat picks up again. You’ve never been out this far. In fact, you’re acres away from the actual commune. While the gates are secure and regularly enforced, you can’t help but feel truly terrified that something will grab you just outside these barriers.  
“I’m sorry, Joel–” 
He stops, spinning you around and landing a hard slap, slap, slap on your ass. 
“You address me as sir.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” you cry out, “I learned my lesson. Let’s–let’s go back.” 
Joel ignores you, choosing instead to march you right to the gate. He keeps one hand on your arm and uses the other to maneuver the many locks and wires on the barrier door until it finally opens. 
“No, please! I said I was sorry! I wasn’t thinking!” 
He drags you out and for the first time in your life, you’ve left the commune. Despite only a metal gate separating both sides, this area seems devoid of life. 
He walks and walks until you wonder if you’ll pass out from the panic. You fall to your knees and Joel crouches right in front of you. 
“Your daddy ever tell you about the infected?” Joel whispers, tilting your chin up with his index finger. “How they’ll bite and rip into any part of your flesh.” 
“No, please,” you whimper. 
He drags a finger down your neck and over your exposed collarbones, leaving goosebumps in his wake. Your nipples tighten as he glides his finger over one breast and then the other. 
“Once they’re done with you, if there’s anything left, then you become just as mindless and violent as them. Forever lost–” 
“Sir–” 
His hand tightens around your neck, cutting off your words. 
“It’s not just one, babydoll. They like to travel in hordes. Makes it easier to find their victims.” 
Your air supply thins and blood rushes to your ears. You squeeze your thighs unconsciously as the pulsing between them only grows. Joel ghosts his lips over yours and your eyes flutter closed without thinking. 
“But it’s not just them,” he whispers over your lips, “there’s non-infected out there. People who won’t think twice about hurtin’ a pretty girl like you. Killin’ ya’ just for fun.” 
You’re not sure who kisses who first. It’s not the chaste kiss the two of you shared at the altar. It’s rough and has you pressing your body close to his so you can take every swipe of his tongue or bite from his teeth. He continues holding your neck, lightly squeezing so you have no other choice than to gasp for air. 
You fall back at the push of his hand on your chest. He flips you on your side to untie his belt from your wrists. You attack the moment your hands are free, sliding your hands through his salt and pepper hair and tugging him down.
Joel hisses but returns each of your kisses and bites with his own. You hear the squawk of a crow from above and you're immediately reminded of where you are. 
“Wait, sir,” you gasp, “not here. Take me back to your–our house–” 
He drags his teeth down your neck, rubbing his beard into your soft skin and biting down. 
“Thought you’d rather be out here than with me?” he says, repeating your words from earlier.  
“No,” you whimper, trying to push him off, “not here. I–” 
He reaches your chest and sucks your nipple into his mouth right over your dress. Your words are cut off and you're arching your back, trying to push more into his mouth. 
Joel makes room between your thighs and grinds down as you twist his wavy strands of hair between your fingers. His hard bulge rubs over your pussy and your whimper at the roughness.
He pinches your other nipple between two fingers then leans back to tug down the straps of your dress. Warm, summer wind glides over your now naked breasts and you shiver. 
“Look at these pretty tits,” he groans, “all mine.” 
Joel yanks the skirt of the dress over your tummy and runs a finger up and down your panty-covered pussy. You shamelessly grind down on his hand and cry out the moment he lands a harsh slap. 
“Please,” you beg with what's left of your sanity, “take me home.” 
With the same technique as before, Joel holds both wrists in one hand and uses the other to rip your panties off. You try to close your thighs from the sting of the elastic, but he’s quick to stop you. 
“Christ,” he whispers, “now ain’t that a beauty.” 
With two fingers, Joel swipes through your slick folds and brings them up to his mouth.   
“Mmm, sweet girl. Needa taste of this pussy.” 
“What do you mean—“
You try to remind Joel of just where the two of you are, but he fits his broad shoulders between your thighs and fuses his mouth to your pussy. 
You’re surprised, stunned silent by the heat of his mouth on your most intimate parts. You’re by no means ignorant of what a husband does to his wife—you’ve read enough of the romance books your mother keeps hidden in her bedside table and heard enough stories from your friends to have an idea of what happens on a wedding night. 
But never did you imagine it would feel like this. His beard and mustache only heighten the sensitivity between your thighs. The setting sun and the dense forest that surrounds the two of you should add to your terror, but Joel manages to put your attention elsewhere. 
His tongue lashes repeatedly over your clit and down to tease your entrance. You throw your head back onto the grass and stare through blurred vision at the purple sky, uncaring of where you are and of what creeps in the dark. 
He’s greedy, eating away at you like you're the last meal he’ll ever have. You’re slick and sticky, painting his face with your juices, making it easy for him to push a thick finger into your entrance. 
The stretch burns, but he calms you with a swipe of his tongue on your clit and the vibrations of his moans on your skin. 
“Your parents were right, you are a virgin,” he groans, pushing on the little piece of thin flesh that separates the rest of you. “Gonna be a tight fit, baby.”
You have no time to think about when your parents had that conversation with him. Instead, you're dumbfounded at the size of his fingers. You whine, unsure of what exactly you're asking, but nonetheless chanting more, more, more into the air. 
Joel manages to slide a second finger, curving them and pressing on something bumpy that makes you twitch and see black dots in your vision.
He stretches and scissors his fingers in your tightness, opening you up more and sucking your swollen button between his lips. Just when the heat is about to consume every inch of your body, he stops. 
“No,” you whine, trying to yank his head back to your thighs. 
Joel dodges your hands and laughs at the desperation written all over your face. He leans down, pressing his wet face to yours in a sloppy kiss, forcing you to suck on his tongue. Riding your pillow doesn’t compare to this.  
Just as before, Joel rips away and catches your wrist right when you reach for him. 
“If you woulda been a good girl, I woulda eaten this virgin pussy till mornin’,” he says while unbuttoning his jeans. “Made you ride my face and cum as many times as you wanted.” 
You barely understand how someone could ride a face, and yet you clench and gush around nothing, wanting his mouth or fingers back. You see the dark, curly hair at his base before he pulls out his length. 
“But for bein’ a brat, I’m gonna make you come on my cock instead.”
The tip is swollen and leaking a white-ish liquid that makes your mouth water at the sight. He lets go of your wrist and gently slaps your face. 
“Are you listenin’ to me, girl? I won’t fuck you if you ain’t payin’ attention.” 
“Y-yes, sir. I’m listening.” 
Joel laughs once again, noticing the dazed look in your eyes. 
“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make it fit.” 
There’s a craving inside of you, one that has you suddenly feeling so empty, that if he doesn’t fill you with his cock you think you’ll die. You repeat the word over and over in your head. 
You’ve read it more than enough times and heard it through hushed giggles from your friends, yet the way Joel says the word, the way he squeezes and twists his hand over his cock, you finally understand what the word truly means. 
Your fingers and the handle of your hairbrush were never able to give you what you so desperately seeked. You always stopped before you went in too deep, never able to take that final push inside.
He spreads open your thighs and you lean up on your elbows to try to catch a glance at what he’s doing. You see your sticky fluids stuck on your inner thighs and over the tip of his cock. He pushes in just an inch, and you gasp at the thickness. 
“Fuck, tight little thing,” Joel moans. “Need you to beg f’me, baby.” 
“Please, please, sir,” you answer quickly, “please, I–I want it!” 
He sinks in another inch, his face pinching in barely controlled restraint. 
“Say–fuck, say ‘I need your cock, sir’.”
The words are caught in your throat as you try to adjust to his size. Joel doesn’t like that you take too long to answer and slaps your cheek. 
“Answer me.” 
“I need your–your cock, sir,” you whine. 
“Again, fu–again,” he demands. 
You try your best to repeat his words, except he’s too far gone now. There’s a pinch, a rip of thin flesh and suddenly he’s sliding all the way in. You claw at his arms and at the grass to get away but he’s gripping your thighs, pressing deeper and whispering take it, pretty girl and you ain’t getting away from me.  
You feel full, so incredibly full. You’re split open, ripped apart just for him. 
“I know, baby. I know,” Joel coos, “it’ll hurt only for a minute.” 
His thumb rubs tiny circles on your clit and he leans over to press kisses on your eyelids and cheeks, licking away the tears that fall. 
The stretch burns, but his groans of pleasure and his gentle kisses have a warm glow spreading through your body. Joel notices the change in you and glances down to watch your hips move in small circles. 
“There we go, baby,” he moans, “knew you’d like it.”
He pulls out slowly, keeping eye contact with you and watching each pinch of your brow and flutter of your eyelids. 
“Saved this pretty cunt just f’me, yeah?” 
“Yes, sir,” you whisper, pushing away the sweaty curls from Joel’s forehead. 
He picks up the pace, curling his hand behind your knee and pushing it into your chest, arranging you like a doll. The pain now completely gone, you lay there, running hands over his arms and watching the sweat drip down his temples. 
Every slide of his cock kisses the very end of you. Your hips move and twist on their own accord and you have no choice but to cry out into the night sky. 
“Takin’ this–this big cock like a good girl, yeah?” Joel groans, watching his cock plunge in and out of your little hole. “Need you–fuck, need you to say you’re mine, baby.” 
“I–I’m yours, sir,” you whine, feeling a twinge in your core, “yours, yours, yours.” 
You dig your fingers in his neck and drag him down for a kiss. He grunts as you bite deep enough to draw blood. 
The thoughts from earlier, about running away from him, leave your mind. Even if it hurts a little, even if you aren’t prepared to be a wife, this is exactly what you need. And you won’t let anyone else have him.
“You gonna cum, girl? Gonna cum on your husband’s big cock?” 
This time he doesn’t stop you. His hand squeezes your neck and he traps you into the ground, pistoning his hips into your slick cunt. Your oxygen lessens and your cumming, numbness and white heat spreading throughout your body. 
“Just like that, baby,” Joel growls, “soak my cock.” 
You're gushing on him, painting the hair at his base with sticky juices. You tremble in his arms and claw at the hand that squeezes your neck. Joel doesn’t let up, fucking into your limp body, loving the way you mewl underneath him.  
He moves in short thrusts, stiffening and letting out an animalistic grunt into the night sky. He presses his head into your neck, sucking and biting into your soft skin while he spills his seed inside of you.
"Take my cum, baby. Take it, take it," Joel moans.
You clench around him, massage his cock with your inner muscles. Every drop of his cum belongs deep inside of you. 
With the little strength left in your body, you run your fingers through his hair. Joel's hands move to grip your thighs and he grinds down, spilling the last of his cum into your cunt.
"You belong to me," Joel whispers. "Don’t ever run again."
You lay there in the grass, breasts bare and pussy full of your husband's cock.
"I won’t," you promise. 
Joel leans back and slowly slips out. There’s a twinge of red mixed with his cum that he wipes up with your ripped panties. He lays down next to you and brings you in close so that your head is placed on his chest. You listen to his heartbeat and the sounds of crickets around you.
You think about the long way back to Joel's–well now your house too–and then you remember exactly where the two of you are.
"Sir, we're outside of the gates what if something or someone comes–we don't have any weapons–"
“There’s another gate a few miles out," he interrupts, "I installed it for extra protection around this place.” 
You drop your head on his chest from relief and exhaustion. Joel rubs a hand down your back and squeezes your arm. 
“I’d never put you in harm's way, pretty girl.”
-
general taglist: iloved1lfs0
ps: i know that there has been other cult leader!joel fics but in no way shape or form have i copied those works for this. if there is something major in my work that sounds similar to someone else's, it's purely by coincidence. i respect each person who takes time out of their day to write FREE content and the last thing i'd do is steal their storylines 🤍🤍🤍
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sjylouvre · 2 days
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late night date at home (sjy)
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bf!jaeyun x fem!reader
wc: 0.5k
comments, likes and reposts are appreciated!
lying on your bed, that's what you do every day. tonight you were especially bored as your boyfriend jaeyun was at a family dinner, which meant he wasn't really available to you physically but was available to you by message. he would never let you be 100% bored, he would always be there for you no matter what. that's what you love about him. "i really miss you jaeyun." he'd reply to your message straight away, because he himself would’ve wanted to be by your side from the start. "if you only knew how much i miss you too, i'd do anything to be by your side right now." this message makes your heart ache a little, so you pout at it. you sigh a bit, look at the clock and see that it's 8pm. you put your phone down beside you and curl up, closing your eyes. your eyelids gradually become heavy when you hear the doorbell ring. you weren't expecting anyone. you frown and decide to go downstairs and open the door. you open the door and freeze, your heart starting to beat. jaeyun...? immediately, he throws himself into my arms and strokes your back. i can't do it without you my love, not even a single second. my eyes start to fill with tears, he really is an incredible boyfriend. and... and the family dinner? he pulled away from me and rest his hands on both of your cheeks, looking at you straight in the eyes. i left them, i told them it was an emergency, they don't need to know after all, you're the first person i care about. he kissed my forehead and took me back in his arms. i love you so much jaeyun. resting my head in his neck.
a few hours later, you both are on the sofa, watching a movie, arms around each other, under a little blanket. it would be a lie to say that you're focusing on the film when you've been teasing each other for hours. between the tickling and the kisses here and there, at this point there's no stopping you. jaeyun please, let's just watch the movie, i can't breath from you tickling me. jaeyun pouts when he hears you say that, all he wants is to spend time with you. you've been doing that for hours, but he doesn't want to miss a single moment. he holds your cheek with his hand and kisses you. it's a good thing I came here, I couldn't stop thinking about you for a second during the family dinner. I nod and smile at his words. I'm so lucky to have you in my life, if you only knew how often I'm afraid of losing you for no real reason. After these words, I gradually become emotional. jaeyun pulls you on his lap, then takes you in his arms. he strokes your back very gently so as not to rush you. nothing will separate us, not even a wave of light, sweetheart, all right? nothing and no-one can separate us, I won't tolerate it. you hug him tightly and places your head at the hollow of his neck. i love you so much. after these words from him, he tucks a lock of hair behind your ear and kisses your shoulder at his disposal. i love you so much jaeyun. to the moon and back.
notes: hey! my first real post? i'm testing out ideas, i'd love to have some opinions... also, im taking requests if any of yall want me to write your ideas!! kisses!!! <3
btw, huge shoutout to @jakesangel for inspiring me, and encourage me to write, it means a lot, she’s amazing!! 
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princessbrunette · 1 day
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john b had these big firm hands.
not because you’d been studying them or anything, you just very quickly learnt this about him when you’d joined the group — the way the other pogues would complain about aches and knots in their back only to have it quickly resolved by the brunette. with the little crush you’d developed on him, you’d find yourself complaining more and more about your own pains — perhaps when on your period or after a long day, and he’d be happy to help you. that’s what he did, he was a problem solver.
what you failed to realise is how much john b enjoyed it too.
in a general sense, sure. like mentioned, he liked to help people and fix everyone’s problems for them— and being such an active group, it was often physical pains causing them strife. whether it would be a knuckle in popes calf or an elbow in jj’s shoulder, they were appreciative.
“you should be like, studying to do this for a living bro. you got a gift.” the blonde would comment after john b had cracked his shoulder, to which the brunette would shrug it off with a—
“yeah, like i can afford that.”
you don’t realise, but soon enough the routledge boy starts to pay a little more attention to you specifically, and no one knows or cares why enough to comment on it. he’d started to ask, instead of waiting for you to complain about it. asking ‘does this hurt? does this hurt?’ as he moves you in different positions because he thought you looked ‘a little stiff’ that day.
you liked it. you liked holding his attention. john b was the leader, somehow the main character in everyone’s life— so you revelled in the attention he’d give you whilst playing the group chiropractor. it made you feel special when he singled you out.
he seemed to have this belief, that you were way more tense than anyone else in the group. he’d hooked his fingers into the idea that because you happened to have anxiety, your body would too suffer. this might’ve been true, maybe you were more tense than everyone and it showed— probably naturally less comfortable around the group seeing as you were the newest addition, but the likelihood was that john b had only convinced you and everyone else of this because he just adored getting his hands on you.
he likes the way your skin feels soft compared to the callous palms and nicked fingertips of his own. he likes the way the fat of your flesh moulds and succumbs to his touch. he likes the way he’s developed enough natural strength over the years to manoeuvre you any which way he wanted, his own warm little rag doll for the time being that sent his imagination running rampant when he’d put you in more vulnerable positions. he loved the way your brows would furrow when he’d crack the right spot or dig his hands in the right place at the right pressure. the way your lips would part with a little whimper when there’s an audible crack.
his voice was what made it enjoyable for you a lot of the time. not that it didn’t feel great, but john b had a ‘talk you through it’ kind of voice. warm, kind, comforting, rumbles in your ear when he’s slotted up behind you, performing his magic until you click somewhere you didn’t think you could.
“how we feeling? hm?” he’d ask, and you could hear the casual smile in his tone without looking, a face that you didn’t have to look at with your eyes to know it was there because you’d seen it so many times.
his cock would always twitch when you’d respond. the prettiest, whiny tone when you were especially relaxed and off guard, a tone that even had jj’s ears perking up from across the room occasionally. “feels so good, john b.” now you didn’t have to say his name, too.
he told himself it was normal to feel that way about a friend as long as there was a boundary. you were pretty, and soft— he’d be a fool not to find that attractive. what he did feel guilty about, was the indulgence. it wasn’t gentlemanly of him, something he prided himself on being. he couldn’t let anyone know he’d continue the fantasy later on, replaying your satisfied mewls in his brain like a broken record, the sounds morphing and twisting, moulding like clay in the hands of his imagination as he attempts to twist it into sounds of sex. he can still feel the heat of your skin beneath his hands through his minds eye, but this time he’d be pushing your lower back down to make you arch as you take his dick deeper.
he recalls the squishiness of your thighs that one time he worked the knots out, and this time uses the memory to fuel the thought of pushing your thighs up against you whilst nuzzling his nose against your clit and lapping up the juices you’d leaked from him rubbing on your body prior. he hears it again, “feels so good, john b.” but this time your head is thrown back, your tits are spilling from that little bra that peeks from your shirts, your clits throbbing against his tongue.
he makes a mess on his fist each night he thinks about it, and wonders how often he can get away with touching you up under the guise of a massage.
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obsessivevoidkitten · 3 hours
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That Time You Got Yeeted Into Another World, Mistaken as a God-Sent Gift, and Used as a Prize in an Arena
Yandere Bear-Man Dilf x Gender Neutral Reader
CW: Noncon, framed for a crime, language barrier, eaten out like it's groceries, biting, scent marking, musk, combat, general yandere behavior
Word Count: 765
(Speed written out of nowhere because I had the idea suddenly, not beta read so please forgive any mistakes. I hope you guys like this ficlet. Also forgive the title, in a game I was playing there was a crossover with "That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime" and I liked the vibe of the title.)
You were framed for a crime you didn't commit and in your village the punishment for that crime was immediate exile via being shoved down a steep crater in the center of which is a one-way portal to what is thought to be Hell.
What no one on your side of the portal knew was that on the other side was just another world. A world that celebrated with a great holiday anytime a human came through the portal. It was also a world populated entirely, with the exception of humans who crossed over, by human-like beast hybrids.
Driders, lion hybrids, nagas, aqrabuamelu (scorpion-men), harpies, dog people, centaurs, minotaurs, gnolls, and many other races that seemed to be part human. 
They have a connecting portal in their universe, but any who try to go into it are spat back out. The current went only in one direction.
Every few years, a human would be flung forth from the portal, a gift from the gods! But only the worthy can keep such a gift. So whenever a human comes to the realm from the watcher of the portal will ring the bells and all the warriors assemble and a grand tournament is held at the arena. Whoever wins gets to keep the human and gains enough wealth to care for them properly.
Things are no different when you arrive, you are immediately ushered away, examined, and pampered like a prize doll with no agency. Despite your objections. It seems like only the keeper of the portal has any rudimentary undestanding of your language, not that it helped you. He didn't explain much and his speech wasn't that great. Something about... a big game?
You were naturally frightened beyond all reason, seeing all these beast-men, but it didn't seem like you were being harmed. It really wasn't what you thought hell was going to be like. 
On the day of the big tournament, you were dressed in the finest silks, given a tiny crown of silver, and taken to the best seat in the arena. One where everyone could see you. A cushioned throne was provided for you to sit upon. You figured that this must be a ceremony to welcome people from the portal.
You watched as all the combatants sparred. At first you were horrified, but it became evident that people could yield and death was, almost always, avoided. There were combatants of every variety. 
Even from the start the best seemed to be a naga woman named Eeris and a bear-man named Brakwen. As they advanced through the fights they both finally made it to the finals where they'd clash. Eeris favored twin daggers and fangs while Brakwen used claws and brute strength. He had a sword but had not resorted to using it. 
It was a mighty battle but Brakwen the bear-man managed to win. You still did not yet realize you were the prize. Not until you were escorted down to him and were carried bridal style out of the arena with the crowd cheering. Brakwen had won the god's favor!
From close up he looked even more imposing. He seemed to be in his late 30s to early 40s. He mostly looked like a hairy man from far away though up close his massive size, sharp teeth, claws, thick fur covering his arms and quite frankly adorable bear ears, gave him away. He was rugged but admittedly rather handsome. You knew there was nothing you could do so you let him carry you away. 
Despite the language barrier, Brakwen did his best to please his god-given prize. He could tell you feared him. Especially since you tried to run off a few times. But Brakwen didn't get angry. You never even managed to get past the door. Even if you did there were two gates outside the house. You were far too valuable to let wander off. 
Eventually when you had stopped running off, and when his rut demanded he wait no longer, he began acting a bot more aggressove and sexual towards you. 
Though you tried to stop him it ended with him stretching out your hole with his powerful tongue, lubing you up with his copious amounts of drool, and sliding into you with his massive musky cock.
That's what your life was now. Being treated like a fragile precious gem most of the time and then for one week out of every month you were fucked full of hot bear cum in every possible position, bitten possessively, and scent marked by being forced to wear his oversized clothing. 
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gglitch1dd · 2 days
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Hi glitch, so don’t feel the need to respond if this makes you uncomfortable AT ALL (your blog your rules)
But how do you think Izuku and wifey would react to one of their boys expressing the idea of well liking a boy. My parents had four boys including me and were kinda spooked when I came out. ANYWAY I LOVE YOU AND HOPE YOURE DOING WELL
Hmm that's a good question.
I don't know if any of the boys would ever end up gay or not. I don't really plan or feel comfortable on exploring any of their sexualities other than Kane, Toshinori and MAYBE Asahi. But I did have the thought pop up.
To answer simply, not bad. Neither Y/N or Izuku are homophobic. Just a note that Japan is not like the west, so it really isn't their main focus. They raise the boys in a traditional manner because it's important in asian/eastern families to retain those values (and I mean the good kind like taking care of your parents, respect, etiquette and so forth). And a reminder that the Midoriyas are in ELITIST Japan as well cause of Izuku being number one, but they wouldn't be angry if one of their boys was interested in dating boys.
How would you feel if I was dating a guy?
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"Hey mom, dad." You sat in bed next to your husband as Asahi entered your room. You had a book in your lap as you read and your husband was reading on his tablet a last minute report before heading to sleep himself. You both looked up from what you were doing, Asahi standing in his pyjamas, his glasses still on his face as he looked to the both of you. "Can I ask you something?"
You nodded your head as you put down your book. "Sure thing, love. What's going on?" You asked him. Izuku pressed the off button of the tablet, putting it to sleep as he removed his own glasses and looked to his second eldest son.
Asahi swallowed down as he looked up to the ceiling. You raised an eyebrow, knowing that that meant that he was about to tell you something that he wasn't sure how you would both react. You glanced at Izuku and he nodded showing he caught on as well.
"So... what should I do if someone asks me out on a date?" He asked.
Your eyebrows raised, before a bright smile went onto your face. "Oh really?" You asked surprised. Asahi was never one to be interested much in girls, never really talking about them nor about dating either. His nose always buried in a book or on a computer. "Who? Is it someone I know?"
Asahi let out a nervous breath. "Uh... yes?" He let out. You tilted your head at the way he sounded confused. "Well, no. But yes."
Izuku glanced at you, noticing that Asahi seemed rather tense. Izuku sighed as he straightened up where he sat. "Asahi, I'm glad a girl is interested in you, it's the Midoriya charm afterall." You rolled your eyes. "However, you know how your mother and I feel about you boys dating before high school."
"And that's fine. I wasn't going to say yes, I don't want to date right now." He told you both honestly. You let out a soft sigh in relief, glad that at least one of your babies weren't being a hooligan and scaring girl's fathers (Toshinori). "But how would you guys feel if I did date them?"
"Them?" You and your husband both asked. "Who?"
"A friend." You gave your son a look to show him that he should stop dancing around what he wanted to say. Asahi sighed as he put a hand to the back of his neck. "My friend... Junpei."
You and your husband both didn't say anything. Which made Asahi cringe as he sank back into his hoodie.
"Wait," Izuku sat up. "Junpei as in the weird quite boy with the short hair?"
Asahi blinked. "He's not weird!" He said defending his friend.
you hesitated but you nodded your head. "He is a bit weird, sweetheart. He doesn't seem like your type, but if you like him-"
There was a blush on his face as he looked to the both of you. "I don't like Junpei! This has nothing to do with him. It's just- How would you both feel if I was dating a guy?"
Izuku looked at you and you looked to Izuku. Izuku turned back to look at his son. "Are you gay?"
"WHAT- NO! I-" His face only deepened in the flush. "I don't know. I just- I don't feel weird about possibly dating a guy. Like I don't feel like it's..."
"Wrong?" You tried.
He nodded motioning to you. "Yah, it doesn't sound or feel wrong to me."
"Then okay." Izuku shrugged.
Asahi froze as he just stared at the both of you. "O-okay?"
"Yah." Izuku nodded. "As long as you're being safe and you don't make this your entire new identity or whatever, I don't care." Izuku turned to you as he scratched the back of his green hair. "I'm confused."
You chuckled as you put a hand on your husband's shoulder. "What your father is trying to say sweetheart is that, we can't dictate who you like and who you don't." You started explaining with a smile. "We can't decide whether you see that as a good thing or a bad thing. All we care about is that you are safe, you are kind and you stick to the values that we raised you in and that's all. If you want to try going out with boys, try and see how you feel if you feel the need to do so." You motioned to him.
"When you're older. Not now, you're only fourteen." Izuku interrupted.
You nodded in agreement. "What your father said."
Asahi paused but nodded, without a particular emotion. "Cool." He moved to exit your room. However he paused. Then before you know it, you and your husband found yourselves in a hug with Asahi, being pulled together by his arms. Your eyes widened in surprise as you looked to Izuku who looked down at Asahi. Asahi buried his face between the both of you. "Thanks." He said softly.
You couldn't help but smile as you pat his head. "Anytime, my little sprout."
-Glitch1d
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“I feel like I am getting fatter.”
My dear readers, I had decided to include prompts in my works as I thought this might cater to the readers of mine who prefers a shorter read. All of my prompts are my ideas (feel free to drop me any if you do have any in mind) and they will be based on my opinion of the boys :> I apologise if my writing may be offensive to some people but this is my take hence it would be nice if you could be more open-minded :,)
P.S: This fictional write is not meant to be a skinny-shaming/fat-shaming piece because I strongly believe no matter what size you are, you deserve to be loved by all! Personality triumphs over looks afterall!
Preview: An insight into what the boys think when you tell them that you feel like you’re getting plumper.
RAFAYEL
He just stares at you wildly; eyes widened, eyebrows raised to form arches, jaw opened slightly in a state of disbelief at what he had just heard coming out of your mouth. “How could you say such things to yourself?” He palmed his own face, shaking his head in suit. “You coming up to me and putting yourself down just because you think you’re chubby is ridiculous.” When he noticed that you did not say anything to rebut him, he walked closer to you, tilting your chin upwards so you may gaze into his orbs of nebulas. “You are not chubby in my eyes my love.”
“But, I just don’t like the way I look in the mirror Rafayel…” Your confidence had always been in a dip when it comes to your own body image. It especially affected you when recently, news regarding your relationship had taken a turn for criticism towards your body. You wanted to look compatible to your lover and you figured the best you could match him is if you own the body and curves of a runway model. “And, maybe, I just thought I might look better beside you if I am well…skinnier maybe?”
The man erupted a laughter, a genuine laughter of amusement when you told him that last bit of your concern. Rafayel is never the type to prey on one’s insecurity but when your determination to lose weight is based off of on pleasing his fans, he could not care less. “No my love, you do not have to lose weight just because some simpleton made some comments about your body. Come, let’s have a seat okay?” He tugged onto your wrist gently and then sat the both of you down onto the plush sofa of his. Plopping his head against the headrest, he turned his face to look at you. “Do you know back in the days, artists from ancient times prefer drawing women of flesh rather than bones?”
Seeing you hesitated to answer him, he continued on. “That is because bones equal to famine, flesh equals to well-fed my love. It is a sign of royalty. And you, I see nothing but a woman of royalty even if you do not see it yourself. The world nowadays are falling back on appreciating women with healthy bodies and I will always be here to assure you that in my eyes, you are not chubby. As you are to me, a sign of royalty which dates back to the ancient times and even till this day and age.”
Rafayel has always have a way with his words. That is the reason why you fell for him. At first, you may think satire is a part of his image, but eventually, you realised that this man spits euphemisms, and that his mockery never falls short of facts. He is very knowledgeable of the world and the way things work. “But if you still do want to lose weight, I shall do it with you as much as I hate working out. But no harm in keeping my princess fit as a fiddle if she wishes for me to join.” He blushes, eyes glanced away from yours for a moment when his mind flashed an image of you being all hot and bothered after a workout session.
“Thank you for saying that Rafayel. It really helps in calming down my nerves.” You smiled back at him, leaning your head against his shoulders and he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your head.
“By the way, just so you know, I prefer drawing you in this ‘chubby’ state—as you would call it—because I think the curves of your body catches the sunlight beams very well and it makes you look ethereal.” Rafayel grins cheekily, fingers trailed against your jawline gently as he studied your features and allowing his imagination to run wild, already planning on his next piece of artwork featuring you, his one and only muse. This time, he shall also make it his statement piece to the haters that his love for you shall not run amok and perhaps, suggest a change in the world’s definition of beauty with his artwork.
XAVIER
“So, did anyone suggested that to you?” Xavier looked up from his plate, swallowing the piece of meat after he had finished asking his question. He had noticed recently when the both of you were on dates, you had been avoiding snacks and junk foods that you would never have resist before and that was when he decided to butt in to ask if you were on a diet and when you admitted it, the conversation was led up to this point. “Or, was it in your own head?”
“I realised it when we were doing the fitness assessment before the hunter’s task that day.” You explained, the fork pushing the pea on your plate, watching it rolled around in circles. During the assessment, everyone is required to get on the scale for a routine check and update for one’s personal records file. You remembered your confidence had started to plummet bit by bit when you noticed all the female hunters are averagely weighed below normal BMI weight.
Although no one was laughing at you as the scale announced your weight but you could almost taste the hint of embarrassment at the back of your throat as you stared at the numbers shown on the scale. You figured, a good hunter should not be overweight right? Or else how does one, being overweight, excel in physical tasks? Hence, you had decided to be harsh on yourself to lose weight for the sake of excelling in physical tasks and to fit in amongst your peers. “I am one of the few ones that probably exceeded the normal weight requirement for a hunter.”
“But you are still one of the best hunters among our division right?” Xavier was quick to catch up on one of your worries for being too overweight to complete physical tasks. “You should not worry much about your weight if you are actually pulling the weight of being a good hunter. Pun intended.” His pun made you pressed your lips tightly to form a thin line. It was funny but it was said at the wrong time.
“Then do you think I am chubby?” You raised an eyebrow and the blond man in front of you let go of his piece of meat and you watch the slice of meat slipped right into the bowl of spicy soup. This conversation is getting serious now if he is willing to overcook that piece of meat just to engage in this conversation.
“I never thought you were chubby. Other girls are just too skinny to my liking.” He placed his chopsticks aside and stared right at your face, cerulean orbs burning with underlying annoyance because of what you had said about yourself. “And I don’t think your weight affects your hunter skills as they are both separate entities by itself.” Humming to himself, his hand rubbed the base of his chin as he thought of what else to say to boost your confidence. “Speaking of which, skinnier girls do tend to end up meeting their demise faster than girls like your size.”
“What do you mean by that?” You watched as the man picks up the chopsticks and starts digging around the soup base for his missing piece of meat that is probably overcooked to his taste.
He shrugged casually. “They just look all the more fragile to me. Most of the ones that got admitted to the hospitals are the skinny ones that tends to get more broken bones and bruises even from fighting the easiest category of wanderers.” He shoved the meat into his mouth almost animation-like and started chewing. His face flashed a hint of disgust as he struggled to swallow the piece of meat down his throat. “My point is, as long as you are healthy and not easily bruised, nobody is going to care about your weight. But if they ever do, I know you can easily prove them wrong.”
Xavier is more of a motivational speaker type of boyfriend. Not because he does not want to comfort you, but he would much rather remind you of the strengths you already have and that you should not get easily discouraged by such a minute issue. Not to mention, although adorning the face of an angel, this boy here does make some pretty sarcastic remarks here and there. “Here, have some more meat, it might help you to lose weight. But it would also help you to gain more muscle which would be more helpful during combat rather than being a bag of bones.”
ZAYNE
“Just because you are sat down and you realised that you had ‘flaps’ does not make you fat y/n.” Zayne laid the tray beside you, taking a seat next to you in the hospital’s cafeteria. After the routine check-up with Zayne, it usually wraps up with you stepping onto the scale and the numbers on the scale are not showing your average weight anymore. Thus, your frown pointed towards the scale gave Zayne just enough of a hint for him to catch up on what was churning in your head. “Y/n?”
“I’m sorry, it just never came to my mind that I had gotten heavier since my last checkups.” You gnawed onto your bottom lip, fingers prancing along the material of your pants. “It does not help either when my colleagues said that I had gotten a bit bloated lately.” Sighing, you hid your face in your palms. “Not to mention, my boyfriend is a doctor, what an irony for you to date someone who isn’t physically healthy right?”
Zayne placed a box of milk in front of you, the one that you would always go for whenever you stop by his workplace. “Y/n, statistically speaking, your weight data is not considered overweight. Nor would it compromise your health in any manner. If it helps, you do not look fat to me.” The doctor glanced over to you, watching you as you only started reading the labels across the box milk instead of ripping it open to drink it like a maniac you always tend to be. “Are you planning to lose weight then?”
“I guess I am planning to. For the sake of my own health and the image of our relationship.” Zayne frowned slightly at your response but of course, being the husband material he is, he would do anything to make you healthy. Even if that means he does not necessarily agree with your standpoint.
“Wanting to be healthy would be a good start, but losing weight for the sake of our relationship’s image is not a good idea. I am glad to have someone healthy by my side.” His voice was comforting, his tone soothing to your ears. “I have another surgery scheduled in 20 minutes so I have to go now, but do not attempt to lose weight without me being around you. Do you think you can at least do me that favour?” He pushed his chair back and stood up, a hand placed on the top of your head in the form of a head pat. “I do not wish to see you jeopardising your own mental health over your weight.”
The doctor leaned down to kiss your forehead before he took the milk and placed it within your palms. His lips turned upwards into a gentle smile. “I will see you after work later.” And he went off, blending into the crowds in the crowded hallways. But it did not took long before your phone rang, and you received a call from a random number.
“Hi is this Miss y/n?” The feminine voice spoke on the other end. You agreed and introduced yourself, asking her what was the purpose of the call. “Dr.Zayne had asked me to set up an appointment with you for 3pm later so that we can go through your nutritional plan later. He told me that you wanted to lose weight don’t you?” You were nearly speechless when she said that. No wonder Zayne rushed off all of a sudden. He did not have a surgery scheduled, he only wanted to make an appointment with an in-house nutritionist to help you in losing weight. Afterall, he is not against the idea of you losing weight but he would much rather you do it in a healthy manner.
Your heart felt fuzzy when you are constantly reminded of the way Zayne would always takes care of you, even if he does not particularly look like he cares. “Yeah, that’s me. May I know what did Dr.Zayne said to you?”
“Not much, he only told me that his spouse is unhappy with her healthy body and that she would like to achieve a slimmer figure…” The girl’s voice trailed off a little, seemingly a little hesitant. “But he also told me to set up a 7 day workout plan for you so that you may get too tired of losing weight and you might just give up on it halfway.” OOF. Guess Zayne is totally fine with the way you look.
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cobaltperun · 2 days
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OOOH ive been waiting for this one. can we get some soft bottom!sam smut with a top!reader (gn or fem, both is okay) where sam is insecure and isnt used to not being in control, but r shows her its okay and takes good care of her 🤭
for a backstory (if you want to make it longer with more depth and don't have any ideas for the backstory) r and sam have been together since tara and sam moved to new york & r saved her and tara, but got hurt in the process.
obviously you dont have to take this request if youre uncomfortable! either way, i still love your content and hope you stick around this hellhole of a site :)
You're Safe
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Bottom Sam Carpenter x Top Female Reader (Request) (Smut - minors do not interact)
Masterlist
Word count: 2.7k
You finally managed to get inside the old theatre by breaking one of the windows. You heard gunshots and while you weren’t all that familiar with Ghostface, you just weren’t all that into horror, though you did hear about Woodsboro killings. Even when you met Sam you wanted to give her a chance to open up to you at her own pace instead of searching for details on the internet. But even you knew Ghostface wasn’t known for using guns.
Your adrenaline skyrocketed, and your sense of self-preservation apparently vanished, because you were running in the direction the gunshots came from. You didn’t even know if Sam or Tara were alive, and you hoped both of them were because if something happened to Tara, and Sam survived she would never forgive herself.
“Come on Sam, you better be okay,” you should have went in with her, if you were already going to break in, you should have tried harder to convince her. Another gunshot made you run faster and you barged into the huge open area filled with glass cases and the big stage with Ghostface figures on it. There was a movie playing, but none of that mattered, Sam was holding Tara over the fence as some guy swung his knife beneath Tara’s feet.
You rushed forward, tackling the man at the cost of getting the knife deep inside your guts as Sam shouted your name and then it all became hectic.
~X~
You grunted, the smell of medicine hit you like a truck, you always hated that smell. Yet, here you were, in the hospital, recovering from three stab wounds to your guts. “Damn, I’m so happy Tara killed that fucker,” you grunted as you tried to sit up.
“Hey, easy, don’t move so suddenly,” you heard Sam rushing to your side and helping you sit up as you finally opened your eyes and looked at her in utter shock.
“Sam? Why are you here?” you asked and her face fell at your question. Shit, that sounded so wrong. You smacked your forehead. “I meant here instead of with Tara, not here as in I don’t want you here. It’s just that you should be with Tara,” you fumbled over your own words desperately trying to fix your mistake.
It seemed to work as Sam looked at you, a soft smile sneaking onto her face. “You don’t hate me?” she asked fearfully, and you hated hearing her like that. Sam was strong, she feared nothing except losing Tara, and hearing her afraid right now, over something like this made you wish to hold her close and never let her go, never allow anything to hurt her again.
“Sam, hey,” you opened your arms and encouraged her to come closer, and though reluctantly she hugged you, her head resting on your chest as she listened to your heartbeat. “I could never hate you, none of what happened is your fault,” you kissed the top of her head as you held her closer and softly combed your fingers through her hair.
“You saved Tara from a serious injury,” her voice wavered. “She’s with Mindy, visiting Chad, by the way,” she told you.
“She saved me as well,” you remembered trying to stop the knife from reaching your throat when Tara came in and kicked the man, Ethan, away from you and slit his throat. By the time she helped you up to your feet because it still wasn’t over Sam and Bailey fell down and you and Tara rushed to Sam.
Sam opened her mouth to speak, but before she could the doors of your hospital room opened and you both looked back, startled, at Tara and Mindy standing there.
“Well, well, well, Sammy can’t resist her cute girl,” Tara teased with the biggest shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen on her face.
Sam blushed and jerked away from you, hitting you stomach by accident. “Shit, Y/N!” she exclaimed when you winced and clutched at the still recovering wound.
“Damn it, Sam, we were teasing, don’t kill her to hide the evidence, poor girl,” Mindy scolded your girlfriend and you somehow managed to raise a thumbs up.
“Still alive and kicking,” you grunted just happy that Sam didn’t reopen the wound. “It takes me back actually,” you nudged Sam with your elbow and found some satisfaction in her face getting even redder.
“I’ll see you later!” she stormed out, and though it hurt, you had to laugh at how embarrassed she got. “Tara, Mindy, come on!” she demanded before the two girls could interrogate you on what you meant.
You just waved at the three of them and lay back on your bed when the doors closed.
You’ve been living in New York for two years now, and you’ve been in your current apartment since about a year ago when the guy living there moved away for a better job. You didn’t think that would lead you to eventually meeting Sam. A bit over half a year ago you were just coming back from work when you saw a beautiful, tall woman going down the stairs. She just drew you in, right from the start. Eventually you started talking and while it began about as casually as it could you and Sam managed to build something solid despite sneaking around and acting like a couple of teenagers.
It didn’t stop you from falling for her, for her fierce protectiveness over her sister and friends, for her kindness hidden behind the walls that needed to be studied, even though they were completely understandable given everything that happened to her. And well, she did flip you over once when you made the mistake of trying to sneak up on her once. In your defense, you had no idea about her involvement in Woodsboro at that point, it was still very early in your relationship and you didn’t think she would just go and throw you down and twist your shoulder. She apologized profusely for that and told you bits and pieces about her life. There were still things you didn’t know, but you pieced enough things together to get the more or less nearly full picture.
And damn, that was the day you discovered you had a thing for a woman that could kick your ass into next week and that what you had was actually really serious.
~X~
About a month since Bailey and his family tried to kill Sam you were lazing around in your living room, just listening to music and chilling with a warm cup of tea next to you. There was a knock on your doors and you damn near wanted to pretend you weren’t home, because you were cozy and didn’t feel like leaving your blanket behind, but maybe it was something important so you groaned, decided to act like a responsible twenty-eight years old woman and got up.
And you were glad you did because you found an annoyed Sam in front of your doors. “Tara and the twins want an apartment to themselves. I, apparently, worry too much that they’ll get a cold by studying on the floor,” she grumbled.
“Well, come on in,” you grinned, pulling her inside and kissing her on the lips. She moaned, her hands gripping your shirt as you pushed her against the now closed doors. Sam opened her mouth as you slid your tongue over her soft lips. You missed this so much, you wanted to get her on your lap, to kiss her, make out with her, to make her moan, but she wanted to make sure you were completely fine, even though your wounds were healed for a few weeks now.
Judging by the way her tongue pushed against your own, and how she was pressing her body against yours you figured it was no longer an issue. Until your phone buzzed in your pocket. You tried to ignore it, separating from Sam’s lips and leaving kisses down her chin and jaw, all the way to the side of her neck as your phone kept buzzing.
“You should see who it is,” she knew how it felt to worry about someone not answering her texts or calls and while she really wanted to keep kissing you she didn’t want anyone to be worried about you like she so often used to be worried about Tara. “Please do, actually. I’m not leaving anytime soon. They won’t let me back in,” she reminded you when you reluctantly took your phone from your pocket.
She watched your eyes widen and then a mischievous grin appeared on your face as you tucked the phone away and lifted her up.
Now, Sam was stronger than you, but you could carry her if needed, and right now you somehow decided you needed to do that. “Y/N?” she laughed, trusting you but still wanting to know what this was for.
“They threw you out, hm?” you teased taking her to the living room and grinning as her face turned completely red. “I got a text from Tara, and I quote: Sam is lying, she just missed you and she might also be horny. One word per text, hence all that buzzing,” the look on her face told you Tara was telling the truth.
“So, any chance we can go straight to the bedroom?” Sam asked sheepishly as she wrapped her arms around your shoulders.
“Of course,” you pecked her on the lips and made your way through your apartment to the bedroom. “Let me take care of you tonight,” you gently lowered her onto your bed and lifted the hem of her shirt a bit. You looked her in her eyes, seeking permission as she bit her lower lip.
“You don’t have to,” she said, she trusted you, she really did, but she struggled to relax and let you take control. It wasn’t about you; it was the very act itself that made her feel vulnerable. Yet, as you looked at her so softly, as you wrapped your arms around her waist and showed her nothing but patience and love, she found herself gradually lowering her guard.
“I’ll pause or completely stop whenever you want me to,” you reassured her, you understood it completely, her needs, her worries, everything. “I love you,” those three words pushed the feeling of guilt away and her gaze lingered on your eyes, on your lips, on the clear message: ‘Take as long as you need, I’ll be here, I’ll never hurt you.’
So, she pushed against your shoulders until you were beneath her and she was straddling your lap. She swallowed hard, grinding slightly against your thigh. “I love you too,” she confessed as you began kissing. She shivered as your hands gripped her hips, firm and steady, as she rocked her hips against you. Your lips felt like fire against her own, especially when you paid extra attention to switch between softly brushing against her lips, just teasing her until she had to deepen the kiss and hot, lip biting, tongues deep inside either of your mouths kisses she couldn’t get enough of.
“Sam,” you sighed, your left hand ghosting over her back. She tilted her head back as you began kissing her neck. Your teeth grazed her skin, biting softly and soothing the skin with your kisses. Sam swallowed her, breathing deeply as her hands lifted your shirt up over your head. Her fingers slid over your skin, your back, your arms, your still covered breasts and stomach. She needed the softness, the gentle way you loved her, and she needed it even more when her thumb caressed the scars you got because you got involved with her.
“We survived, Sam,” you whispered in her ear, moaning softly when she started grinding on you faster. “You’re okay, I got you,” you wouldn’t betray her, ever, she was sure of that and her guard crumbled as she let out a small moan escape past her lips.
Your heart soared when you heard Sam’s moan, it was a rare occasion, she usually only became vocal when she was close, and this was nowhere near enough to get her there. You took her shirt and bra off. “I need you so much,” you sighed against her neck and squeezed her breast, your thumb circled around her nipple as it hardened.
“I need you too,” she said, completely giving up control as you flipped the two of you around once more and lied down next to her so she wouldn’t feel caged in by you.
You pulled her jeans and panties down, getting her naked and just taking the sight in. Her toned body, her abs, biceps, the fact that she was this strong, physically and mentally, yet she still trusted you enough to take control drove you mad.
You invaded all of her senses. Your warm palm teasing her thighs as you left kisses on her shoulders and breasts, and the feel of your hair between her fingers as she spread her legs for you. And the scent, your own scent mixing with the spreading scent of her arousal as she progressively got wetter. The sound of your lips releasing her nipple with a pop and your tongue sliding across her breast to her neck, all the way to her ear. The look of pure lust and desire and all the love you felt for her in your eyes, and the taste of your kiss still lingering on her lips. You were all she could feel, and she couldn’t stop the whimper leaving her parted lips as you finally, finally, touched her pussy lips.
You were slow, methodical, each of your strokes bringing you closer to your goal, each time bringing you closer and closer to her opening, and with each stroke you felt Sam clinging to you harder than before. Her hands dropped to your back, nails digging into your shoulderblades just hard enough for you to feel them, but nowhere nearly hard enough to pierce through the skin. She moaned, louder, without restriction as you parted her lips and dipped your finger into her warm, wet hole. “I got you,” you assured her, feeling her shuddering as you moved the wet finger from her opening to her clit and gently massaged it.
“You got me,” Sam rasped, making sure you knew she felt safe, this exposed and vulnerable with you. She moaned as you kissed down her stomach. She looked down as you gave her a small smirk and flicked her clit with your mouth before pulling it between your lips and sucking on it. “Oh, fuck!” she hissed, breathing harder as you inserted two fingers into her, slowly stretching her out until you found her G spot.
Sam cried out, needing you closer, needing your lips on hers. “Y/N,” she gripped your shoulder, trying to tug you closer as the steady, gentle rhythm of your fingers pushed her closer and closer to the edge.
You understood her needs, you understood the grip on your shoulder and moved up, capturing her lips into a deep, sensual kiss as she hugged you, anchoring herself to you.
“I’m-“ she gasped, separating from your lips and arching her back as her pussy squeezed around your fingers. Her entire body quivered as a deep, guttural moan ripped through her throat. “Y/N!” she cried out, the sensations you’ve been building up fully pushing her over the edge.
You kissed her cheek and she turned to look at you, out of breath as you slipped your fingers out of her and just held her closer. “Thank you,” you whispered as Sam cradled your cheek and kissed you on the lips.
“You’re too good to me,” she sighed, her voice still slightly shaky as she spoke. She still leaned closer to you, letting you caress and massage her to help her as she got down from her high.
“Hush now, you deserve all the love,” you leaned down and flicked her still hard nipple. “Can you go on?” you asked, after all, you had her just for yourself for the whole night. Sam smiled and nodded and damn, you were going to love her all night long.
A/N: There you go Anon! I hope you'll like this 😁😁
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"What about me?" Glory asked.
Kestrel shifted her wings in a shrug. "I have no idea. Webs scrounged you up somewhere after we lost the SkyWing egg. I never cared where, because I knew you weren't important."
"Oh, go away!" Tsunami burst out. "Everything you say is hurtful and mean."
"Everything I say is true," Kestrel said.
"I don't think you'd be good for me," Peril said, staring up at her. "I never imagined you like this."
Kestrel hunched her shoulders. "I am the way life has made me. Take it or leave it."
I genuinely don't understand anyone who says that Kestrel could've had a "redemption arc." Her response to her own long lost daughter saying that she never thought she'd be this cruel is just going, "This is how I am, and nothing will ever change that."
Kestrel herself admits in the second to last scene we ever see her in that this is just how she is and there's no room for improvement for her. If she truly believes this (which I think she does because if not she would've changed something about herself before now) then there's nothing anybody can do to help her.
This is why I'm satisfied with Kestrel dying the way she did. There was nowhere for her to go, her character ends here because she's denied herself change over and over again. She decided to constantly take her anger out on children for 6 years, she decided to treat them as horribly as she possibly could, even now when finally reunited with Peril she acts the same as she always had.
She never makes any strides to change herself because she genuinely believes that the only way to survive in a cruel world is to be cruel back. And look at how far it got her.
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myladysapphire · 3 days
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My Lady Strong (VI)
Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?
word count: 3,100
CW: MDI 18+, toxic relationship, manipulation, mommy issues, bullying, co-dependancy issues, self harm, not beta read.
Fem!oc x dark!Aemond Targeryen
Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part
disclamer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and  fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my OC
A/N sorry its been so long! forgot wehat direction i was going in with this story so going off the few notes i had left about this chapter! might be a few changes ive made from the last few chapters, but hopefully it all makes sense! but this story is gonna get dark and sad!
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Aemma had been pacing back and forth for the last hour, nerves clear on her face as her mother and brothers were set to arrive in only a days time.  She hadn’t spoken to her in what had felt like forever, and she had no idea on what too expect. She thought that perhaps she might have done something but thinking back on the countless letters she had written, she could not think of a single thing she could have possibly said. Perhaps taking Aemond’s side at Driftmark, or perhaps refusing to leave his side after the fact. 
She had made her complaint to Aemond, the morning after they had reconnected, he had simply laughed, “oh Aemma, do you really think your mother cares about you? She happily sent you of to wed me the second it was suggested.” He said as he brushed her hair for her, having dismissed her ladies so they could break their fast. “if she cared about you she would have demanded I got to Dragonstone, not you here, she simply wished to be rid of you.”
Aemma looked down, she refused to believe it, her mother had always preached how she was her favourite child, then again, after Driftmark her mother did just send her away, she would have visited her more or asked her to visit if it was true. “Really?” she asked tears in her eyes.
“oh of course” he smirked, “but do not worry dear, soon enough you shall be my wife and she will no longer have to even act as if she cared for you, and you will not have to care for her either.”
She shook her head, and looked up at him, meeting his smirk in the mirror “do you think she loves me still?”
“no” he replied instantly.
A tear fell from her eye “do you love me?” she near begged.
Aemond’s smirk widened, his eyes twinkling, “of course” she turned her head, and he instantly gripped her chin, “and you love me, don’t you?”
“no” she replied. His grip tightened slightly, “I do not know what it is to love Aemond, but perhaps…once we get to know each other more.”
He frowned. “We have known each other our who lives”
“Yes, but these past years we have been distant, I know nothing of you”.
“And whose fault is that” he said stepping away, “was it not for that bastard I would still have my eye! And you would love me!”
She stood up, following him, “how does-“he stopped her, turning around quickly to face her.                     
“Because it does!” he almost whined, “you were mine! And then you were handed to me on a silver platter and yet all you have done is whine about your mother and your stupid brothers!” he took a breath, allowing her an opportunity to speak.
“I begged to stay with you Aemond, I defended you and –“
“And you begged them to stay also!” she looked at him, she had never told him of the conversation with her mother.
“How do you know that?” she asked bewildered. “and what does that have to do with anything?”
“everything!” after what they did to me, to YOU! And you wanted them to stay” he shook his head, “I went to find you, I needed you and you were begging your mother to stay? Do you think I could forgive you?”
“Aemond-“ she was crying now.
“these past years I have grow into the man I knew you wanted, not the silly little boy you grew up with, but the man you need, my mother has been nothing but a mother to you, and yet you still crave that whore and those bastards”
“I’m sorry Aemond. “she said, reaching for his hands, “your right, I am so sorry, I just wanted my muna, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She caressed his hand, “but I didn’t want too lose you or her and yet I lost you both!” she whined, “I needed you too!” she cried, wrapping her arms around his waist.
She needed him. Aemond smiled, “goo. because I am all you will ever and have ever needed.” He said holding her to him, “your mother is here in formality over, and at the end of the week she will be nothing to you, I will be your everything, your husband, your protector, your Aemond.”
“And let me remind you sweet Aemma, that without me you would remain Lady strong, a princesses bastard. And yet you betrayed me, begged for our tormentors to stay and if that had happened do you think I would have been able to devote these past five years to becoming your protector, to become the man you desired?”
She shook her head.
“They were cruel to you, hated you. All because your mother favoured you, do you think they will have changed?”
She shook her head again, and started to think back, growing up all she had ever wanted was to marry Aemond, and have him be her protector and never have to see Jace and Luke again.
She had thought that after Driftmark she would never get that Aemond, he had changed the second that eye was taken from him. He became cold and cruel and there was even whispers he was mad.
“but-“she started to speak, a part of her felt like he had turned into them.
He had tormented her for years and now he seemed to be perfect for her. It didn’t make sense.
“But what?” he asked, suddenly moving closer to her.
“you have been cruel, ignoring me then you started to torment me, sending me the heads of Aemma’s roses, as if you were threatening me.”
He shook his head, “I don’t know what your talking about”
“yes you do!”
“no Aemma, your confused, I sent you Aemma’s roses, to show I was thinking of you , and I never cut there heads of” he laughed, “and I only ignored you as I felt so hurt by what you did”
“i- but you cut of-“ she shook her head, “I-I I’m so confused, Aemond I- perhaps I should ask Cassandra, she has a better memory than me –“
“no Aemma, your just misremembering, you’ve always had trouble with remembering things” he said, “and do you not trust me?” he said sounding sad.
she shook her head, “of course not- I, just I thought you hated me for whatever reason and now I must have thought your acts were of torment and not …love” she said unsure.
“it okay Aemma, I know you struggle and I know you have always had difficulties with things” he said softly, “I was hurt and scared you would hate me too, I should have been more upfront, it is all my fault” he said, pulling her into a hug, “I know you are sorry, and I am too”/
He wasn’t, he loved the look on her face when she opened the box of cut of Aemma’s rose heads, loved the way she was scared, but he also realised years of ignoring her had made him seem untrustworthy, and he feared he made a mistake, he had a new strategy to play. At first he wantec her to be scared and run to him for help, but it seems her ladies and beloved Cassandra had gotten in the way of that plan, and made him the villain.
He supposed he had to get them out of the way.
Since that conversation, Aemond had made sure she did not leave his side.
Saying how he missed her dearly, and realising how much he needed her and pushing her away had hurt him more than it hurt her.
She had felt so badly for him, and before he knew it they were back to their old habits, were she went he went, she would even ask him too choose all her clothes, even serve her dinner.
She forgot how simple life was with Aemond, how happy and easy he made her life.
And Aemond was loving it, he loved getting to control every detail about her, she would dress how he liked, believing it her choice to let him pick, she would follow him everywhere, meaning he no longer had to follow her.
The only problem was that her ladies maids were still in the way. They ere there when she woke, and dressed, giving question stares as he would enter her rooms, whispering in her ear about things Aemma would never reveal.
He wasn’t jealous just angry.
He had been hurt all those years ago and ignored her because he wanted to be better. Become the best possible Aemond, become her protector and a man who would never again loose his eyes to is silly little nephews, and someone who would never let them hurt Aemma again.
And it was blatantly obvious that his ignoring of her head made her annoyingly close to her little friends.
He had hidden letters from her mother the first year, then they came less and less, before stopping altogether. He would allow a few of Aemma’s letters to be sent, not before reading them himself. He wanted her too feel isolated, but that had failed, and now it would be too suspicious for Aemma to receive the letters her mother had sent over the years, especially as he had read them all and hated the love his sister had for her daughter, hated that no matter how hard he wanted to hide it, her mothers return would only pull them apart once more.
So he realised the game of isolation needed to change and to get ride of the Ladies he must earn their trust, so he wooed them, by sitting in at their gatherings and showing undivided devotion to Aemma, there was still the issue of Cassandra Baratheon. She despised him, and he here. She was brash and loud, and Aemma’s best friend. 
He wasn’t jealous, no, not at all. Not jealous of the way she effortless laughed at her jokes or talked to her without having the perplexed and wanted to please look in her eyes that’s she did with him.
He watched the bitterly as they chatted the day away. She seemed to light up around Cassandra, and he hated it.
“Are you nervous about you mother and brothers return?” Cassandra asked, sipping her tea.
“yes, especially my mother” she sighed, stirring her tea “I did receive a letter from my brothers this morning” she reviled, much to  Aemond’s surprise. He had ordered all letters addressed to Aemma be sent to him straight away, how this had escaped him – “I had waited in the ravenry for a reply for my letter, and one had just arrived when I got there.” She reviled, answering what Aemond was wondering.
“what did it say?” Cassandra and Aemond asked simultaneously.
“Luke and Jace were asking about how I am , and saying they were sorry if their actions in our youth  and wish for us to reconnect upon there return.” She replied.
“you will do no such thing” Aemond spoke, standing up.
“And why not?” Cassandra asked, clearly unhappy at Aemond.
“because of how they have always treated her!2
“oh please, they were children!” Cassandra spoke, now standing alongside Aemond, “ they have apologized and wish to know there sister, and from what Aemma has told me, I and my sisters have done far worse to each other than they did to her!”
Aemond scoffed, “please, they were bullies, they locked her in the black cells!”
“they- they what?” Cassandra asked, no looking towards Aemma.
“i- its true they did, but they have apologised incessantly since then.” Aemma said, trying to diffuse the situation, “they are my brothers, and they.. they said sorry”
“You still have nightmares Aemma” Aemond spoke, now moving back to his seat and taking her hands in his.
This perplexed Aemma she had never not once told Aemond of her dreams, especially of that night, he himself had always felt partly responsible for it, having taken so long to find her, and having left her alone that night. “what?” she asked, “I never told you about my dreams…”
Aemond flinched sightly, realising his mistake, and Cassandra herself took on an angry expression, “how do you know of those dreams Prince Aemond?” she asked, moving herself closer to Aemond and Aemma, as if to protect her.
“i- she is to be my wife, I only took a concern when the guards said she would often wake screaming.” He said, trying to sound nonchalant.
“but that still-“ Aemma started, slowly removing her hands from Aemond.
“don’t concern yourself too much Aemma I simply stood guard to ensure you did not try to harm  yourself.”
Aemma flinched, Aemond cant know about that, no one does. Not even her maids. She had always kept her arms covered, he cant know.
Her eyes betrayed her, showing a scared expression, an expression both Aemond and Cassandra took to be scared about hurting herself.
“I – I” she stuttered, “I don’t know what you-“
“don’t worry Aemma, nothing bad happened, and your brothers wont get anywhere near you” Aemond spoke.
Aemma nodded, trying to mask her own fear of Aemond potentially knowing her secret to make it look like she feared her brothers.
Her parents were set to arrive on the morrow, and All Aemma could do was twist and turn. Dreams had been plaguing her. Ever since the black cells she has been getting premonitions, dreams of what was to come, dreams that have come true.
She supposed she was lucky, Helenas dreams caused her to speak in riddles, some even called her mad. When in truth Aemma was the one who was mad. She scratched and bleed as she dreamed, tearing at the skin on her arm. Her hands felt like they were soaked in blood, her nails turned red, as she scratched and teared. She dreamt of herself, she was married with children, but one was dead. She killed him. She must have, blood was on her hands, on her dress her face. Her other children cowered in the corner, flinching away from her.
“a son for a son!” she woke up gasping, the words ringing in her head.
Her bed sheets were stained in her blood, her arms scarred. The wounds from her last dream only just having healed.
She couldn’t help it, it was if her only escaped from her dreams was to harm herself. Perhaps it had been the three years of isolation she had felt so alone, where the dreams controlled her. She would send days and days tuck in the loop. Until one day her mother wrote to her of needing alliances and how her and Alicent had chosen her ladies. Her ladies had saved her, Cassandra specifically. She would wake her up, help her dress, and for once Aemma had a reason to escape her dreams. But then Aemond’s neglect and ignorance of her had turned cruel, calling her “my lady strong”, a name he had only just stopped calling her.
But something haunted her as she paced around her chambers, Aemond’s torment had put a stop to her dreams, the dreams were there was no dancing dragons, or no blood-soaked hands and gowns. Instead the dreams were of dragon snapping dragons neck, storm soaked nights and screams. And then since this week her nightmares have been full of crying, begging and blood. And now this.
It seemed no matter what her life would be full of tears and screams, and death.
“Aemma.” Cassandra said, walking into her chambers, alongside the rest of her ladies, Cerci Lannister, Cerelle Costayne, Margaret Fossway and Rosia Tyrell.
She had not slept since being awoken from her dreams, she had bathed and dressed, applied ointment to her scares, and had proceeded to pace her rooms nonstop.
She was worried, her mother would be here soon, and she had no ideas what she would be like.
She knew nothing of her, and she feared her mother may no longer love her. And well she was nervous about her wedding, and the wedding night. Aemond and Alicent had told her about it in the past week, and she was scared. And she just needed her Muna.
“how are you feeling?” Cersi asked.
“I am nervous” she admitted.
“of course, you will be wed on the morrow, you are bound to be nervous” Margaret added.
“well i-“
“but think, you will get to marry someone who loves you!” Rosia gushed.
“yes you are so lucky!” Cerelle complained, she had received news yesterday of her father engaging her to some man who had been married twice before and she had never met.
“oh Cerelle, he’s old hell probably die before you can wed.” Aemma said nonchalantly, and Cassandra laughed as she watched Aemma gasp at her own words. “sorry, just today the first time I will see my mother and brothers in years. I’m nervous”
Cassandra grabbed her hand, caressing home gently, “it’ll be okay, I’m sure.” She then looked to Cerelle “ and Aemma’s right, he’s what eight and seventy, he could croak at nay moment!” they all laughed, and for the first time that day Aemma’s mind was finally taken of what was to come.
She stood in the courtyard wating for their arrival, alongside her stood alone, Alicent having to have leave only moments ago to take care of something. She had done all her wedding planning with Alicent, she had comforted her when she cried over her mothers lack of care over her wedding, and visiting her despite her countless letters over the years. But Alicent seemed nervous, as if she was waiting for something or scared of something, and even more so when she had to leave.
After a few moments a carriage finally arrived in the courtyard, and her mother was the first to step out.
She wanted to run to her, to hug her and tell her how she had missed her. But her dream, it rang in her head.
“A son for a son” that all she could hear, and a voice in her head told her it was her mother’s fault, that her mother would force her to kill her son. She didn’t want to think it, but her mothers face, her blood soaked hands and a headless child was all she could see.
She made her way slowly walking down the steps the greet them.
“muña, lēkia” she greeted, a smile gracing her face. “welcome home”
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