#try not to scream cry and throw up challenge
Text
love's gonna get you killed
alexia putellas x reader
summary: alexia is older, wiser, and trying to make you the best. in doing so, she loses sight of more important things.
words: 5.4k
warnings: it’s a little bit toxic and there’s an age gap
notes: the request for this can be found here. genuinely never flinched more when writing something and this is only the beginning... NEW TRILOGY TIMEEEE
p.s. it's set in two timelines and i hope you clock otherwise this will not make sense
then again, this could've been a fever dream over the past few days soooo
Morning.
Like dawn; like the freshness of dew on the grass and a light breeze. A thousand suns and the bluest of skies.
How do you even begin to describe it?
A spark?
Yes. It starts with a spark.
Barcelona play Levante. An away match for the former, but hardly a challenge. Tough games are increasingly difficult to come by with the depth of their squad (and the failings of their league), but Alexia doesn’t mind too much. The break is welcomed with open arms, and she loves nothing more than to crush her opponent.
She is merciless, but she is never unkind.
The goals come flowing like an unstoppable river; white-water rapids tearing up the shitty pitch and obliterating the Levante players. Alexia runs to stay afloat, to further prove the excellence of the club she adores, and her buoyancy is mimicked by those of equal skill.
Weirdly, an intruder survives the flood.
What was struck off as a clean sheet is flipped on its head; tainted, stained.
One goal.
One magic boot, one hero.
One player saves Levante from losing four to nil.
The small-ish crowd wildly shouts your name, well-acquainted with screaming those syllables after seeing the swoosh of the white net and the step towards victory.
Alexia’s eyebrows furrow, although she knows they are not going to lose. It’s frustrating for her, having failed to apprehend a pass somewhere down the line that had connected and connected until it found your feet and soared home. In her head, clouded with pride, it makes no sense.
Who the fuck thinks they can score against the greatest club in the world?
(Maybe, thinking about it now, Alexia is a little unkind.)
The rallying war-cry that she roars catches your smug attention. You’re glad she thinks you’re a threat, even if your team is technically being thrashed.
Somehow, Alexia assigns herself to mark you. The fluidity of Barcelona’s formation allows for the defence to press higher than their manager’s instructions, and, as you are clearly the best Levante has, you are all over the ball; drawn deeper into the action. You almost forget the definition of ‘striker’, too engaged in the midfield.
You’ll be bollocked for it later, you think when there’s a brief reprieve, the ball rolling out of play for a Barcelona throw-in. You look at the gap you have left in the front line and the chaos you have caused in the midfield, and you try to convince yourself to return to the game-plan. But then there’s Alexia Putellas, her hand pressed against your back, fingers gripping your shirt to stop you from intercepting the bouncing ball as it hurtles towards one of her own.
Alexia Putellas has a decisive grip on you. She pulls you back, and she makes it seem easy.
You take one look at her expression, jaw clenched as she concentrates on ripping your team to shreds, and feel the need to roll your eyes.
Her determination to embarrass you is admirable enough. It’s clear that Alexia can’t handle losing in any capacity. It’s clear that she cares.
She is worried, and that is obvious too.
She doesn’t let you get very far from her, despite the shouts for extra coverage down the middle. Alexia is clever when it comes to football, and she can smell talent like a blood-thirsty shark. Preoccupying herself with defending meaningless passes that only wind the clock down would be useless; it will always be useless when you are on the pitch.
Because you’re good. Really good. Young, fresh, talented, and just what the Barcelona squad might need.
The ball comes to your feet and she is ready to quell the threat. She faces you, her closed defending designed to make you feel caged. However, when the ball slips between her open legs, she is left to catch smoke in the wind, and, though it’s at her own expense, she is impressed.
Just like that, something ignites.
...
Alexia wakes up with a low, determined groan. Her alarm is loud and you begin to move in your sleep, distressed by its intense, relentless mission to rouse the entire world. Alexia doesn’t care if you want to sleep in. She thinks you should be foaming at the mouth to train with her today.
It’s the day after the latest league match.
Together, Alexia and you scored three shared goals. The connection on the pitch is undeniable, and has been since Barcelona leapt at the chance to sign you at the start of last season.
She’s an impactful player and is lethal when her passes are fired towards you.
Days like these are tests. You hear the alarm and know you are waking up beside your captain, not your girlfriend.
The alarm might as well signify the start of another trial; another exam. Do you want to be good, or the best? Do you know that talent is not everything?
Whenever the questions appear, more in her eyes than on her sharp tongue, you hold back your remark. It’s the same every time.
Maybe I don’t want to be the best, Alexia.
Maybe I have more talent than you, Alexia.
Captain Alexia Putellas is easier to shout at than the woman you love.
...
Levante loses but you do not seem disheartened; you’re only twenty, and there will be many more matches to win in the future.
You wipe the sweat from your brow, laughing at how some of the Barcelona players grimace as you hold out the same hand for them to shake. They are mostly the younger ones; those you know from the national team.
They ask you whether you’re going to celebrate your goal later. There’s no real reputation of partying attached to your name, but there is a certain standard that comes with being a young and bright star. Kick-off was early, and it would be a good day to explore Valencia’s nightlife.
“I’m going home tonight,” you explain pointedly, just to stop them from further taking the piss.
“No way.”
“Yeah, we’re having dinner.”
“You and your family are–?”
“I’m trying to move past it,” you reply. It’s curt and a clear end to the conversation. The crowd of players disperses soon after and you are following the victors back to Barcelona before you know it.
A sleek, black car picks you up from the station with more than the necessary fanfare. The driver’s window rolls down, revealing an unfamiliar face; dark sunglasses, starch-ironed shirt.
“You’re new,” you mutter to the driver as you slide into the backseat. He remains silent. “Where did the last one go? It hasn’t been that long.” He couldn’t have died or anything, you’re sure of it.
It has only been, what, four years since you were last here?
Your parents divorced when you were seven. Like most cases, you were caught in the crossfire, but that was hardly traumatic enough.
They were liberal and believed in your emotional capacity with slightly more vigour than it deserved. They told you all the gory details: who slept with whom; who should go to Hell.
The most gruesome part was the debate about who should keep you. It was a bloody battle, but not a choice a seven-year-old was able to make. And your father, the pathetic man he had become, bowed out after a month, fucking right off to Munich with a new job and bitterness in his heart that led him to vow to never, ever be in contact with you again. He lost and he chose to keep on losing.
Fatherless, it was easy to attach yourself to the man your mother began to rebuild her life with. He was caring and he made your spiralling mother happier, funding lavish shopping trips and holidays.
You moved into his house in the most affluent part of Barcelona – that was home, even if it didn’t quite feel like it.
But you grew older, and so did the wonderfully in-love couple. Your father’s nose moulded itself onto your face, and his eyes grew more prominent whenever your mother tried to converse with you. It haunted her, your likeness, and it was unsettling to the man who wanted a family of his own.
There was an easy route to rid themselves of you: boarding school in the US. You cried, riddled with homesickness, every night for months, while they procreated as though they had no pre-existing child. Soon came twins; a mix of their own, a family of their own.
So they became four, and, at sixteen, you became one; emancipated and ready to train in the Wolfsburg academy, having progressed quite well through the years at school (earning your call-up to Spain’s youth teams, winning a few medals, showing off what you considered the talent that made your existence worthwhile – the usual).
“Hi,” you say as the door to the mansion swings open. The marble floors are vaguely familiar, but the two boys peering at you behind the housekeeper are not. “Is, um, dinner ready yet?”
...
With the alarm still blaring, Alexia runs a warm hand down your bare back, calloused fingers pressing into the divot of your spine. It is always like this with her: one thing said by her actions, another by her mouth. The nature of the message flips and switches as she pleases, but she never seems to be entirely able to make up her mind.
You sigh into the pillow, burnt by the flames left in the wake of her touch. “I’m tired.” The sound is muffled but clear enough to slowly tick down the seconds until the bomb explodes. “I’m tired from last night, Ale. From the match and, you know…”
She shuts the alarm off. It’s an hour earlier than what it needs to be, but once upon a time, there was a reason for that.
You catch a glimpse of the past behind your closed eyes as you feel her weight shift on the bed, legs straddling your hips as the sheets are pulled down to expose more of your bare skin. Her hands traverse your body, pressing into the muscles of your back with too much pressure and none at all. She is a lead weight and she is a ghost.
She is full of contradictions.
“You need to come with me today.” She grazes over a purpling bruise, inflicted by her own ravenous mouth. You hiss in pain, but it is forgotten the minute her lips kiss the crime scene with something almost apologetic.
“Baby, I’m too tired to train.”
“Your passes were sloppy.” Kisses trail across the backs of your shoulders, the base of your neck, the middle of a canvas she wants nothing more than to wreck over and over again. “And you were lucky to scrape your goal.” Her teeth sink into your flesh experimentally; the sharp pain gone before you begin to process it. “It was a beautiful goal, though. You looked beautiful scoring it.”
You groan, your body arching involuntarily into her touch, pulled in by something stronger than your will. Alexia is intoxicating; Alexia clouds your mind. “I missed that shot,” she continues, dangerously close to anger. “Your fault.”
“How was it–” You whimper as she targets the knots in your back. “How was it my… my fault?”
Her fingers dig into the tightness of your muscles, unaffected by how you tense beneath her. They are sore, but it is more than that.
Alexia has trapped you, and you are at her mercy.
It sends shivers down your spine.
“Because,” she whispers, her breath hot against your ear, “I was too busy watching you. You’re such a fucking distraction, you know.”
“Ale…”
Her laughter is musical but plays a haunting melody that prickles the hairs at the back of your neck. “Don’t be so desperate,” she purrs, her hands roaming lower with a searing heat behind them. “I missed a hattrick because of you, and it was pathetic.”
You whine.
“Tell me what you need, and maybe I’ll give it to you.”
Your breath hitches, the words caught in your throat. She knows exactly what she’s doing, how to unravel you piece by piece until you’re begging for her.
She loves it when you beg.
“I…” You’re not a stranger to demanding things. You’re not pathetic, you’re not. “You. I need you.”
“Good girl,” she murmurs, rewarding you with a kiss that sears your skin. Her hand slips lower, teasing the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, making you gasp. “But you have to earn it. You can’t afford to make the mistakes you made yesterday again.”
You’re no longer listening. It’s not what you want to hear.
...
Unwelcome is the word that first springs to mind.
There is a long, mahogany trench table set, looking unnatural with the five places that throw the balance off. As though to emphasise your differences, you are ushered to the head of the table by the housekeeper, your half-brothers hesitating at the open doorway of the dining room, almost afraid to be alone with you.
You remember being told your mother had given birth by the housemistress at school. She’d offered to see if you could get on a flight home, but no request for your presence had come; the hint had been received loud and clear.
If they didn’t want you, you didn’t want them.
But you don’t miss the shirt one of the boys is wearing.
“Where’d you get that?” you ask curiously, encouraging them to approach with a tight-lipped smile. The one dressed in a Levante shirt looks at the other.
“It’s his,” they say at the same time. It’s a little creepy.
“Papa wouldn’t let us get your name, but that’s what we wanted.”
“You guys like football?” you ask, forcing a casual tone.
They nod enthusiastically, thumbs poking into their chests as they state their positions and opinionated ranking on the local team. “We get our teammates to watch your highlights. We’re gonna see you at Barça next season!”
“How do you know I’m going to Barça next season?” you tease. “Because I didn’t even know that.”
“Papi’s friends with Sr. Laporta, tonta.” Frowning, you grow less amused of the tidbit. Maybe your stepfather feels guilty. Maybe he wants to give your career an unnecessary helping hand. But you’d rather be sent into the Queen’s League than sign because of your connections.
Despite the tension hanging in the air, you lean back in the chair, trying to ease the stiffness in your shoulders. The eyes of your half-brothers flicker between you and the table. You’re a stranger to them, and their apprehension is understandable. It stings, but it isn’t your fault.
The housekeeper returns, clearing her throat to interrupt the stilted silence. “Dinner will be served shortly,” she announces, her eyes avoiding yours. You scrutinise her, trying to remember whether she was there when you were first sent away. Is she new? “Boys, why don’t you fetch your father from his study?”
Emboldened by the prospect of their escape, the one in a Levante shirt steps forward. “Can we play after dinner?”
Before you can answer, a familiar voice interrupts. "Boys, give your sister some space." They are scurrying away in an instant.
You look up to see your mother standing in the doorway, her expression stern. There's an awkward pause as she takes a seat at the other end of the table, her eyes never meeting yours.
"Good to see you," she says, her tone clipped. You nod, acknowledging her presence without offering a response. “I was surprised to hear you were coming. Have you run out of money?”
“I have money.”
"Then why now?" she presses, her eyes still avoiding yours. The question hangs in the air as you take your time to answer it. Past arguments seep into the room, and, despite the large windows and high ceilings, you feel trapped.
You take a deep breath, trying to maintain your composure. "I wanted to see my family," you say, the words feeling foreign on your tongue.
Your mother's lips press into a thin line, and for a moment, you think she might actually say something kind. But instead, she shifts her gaze to the polished surface of the table. "Well, here we are," she says, her tone flat.
...
There is something about the soft way Alexia cares for you that keeps you by her side. She’s not a bad person, and she is sorry when she is mean. You can be worse, so, really whose fault is it? Sometimes you provoke her.
None of that matters now, though. Not in the airy space after sex and before the world begins to turn again. The sun is beginning to rise now, bathing the room in fresh light that must unsettle your girlfriend. She is trying to calm herself down, lying beside you to regain her strength before she will haul you both up.
If you hadn’t wanted to train, you should never have spoken this morning.
Your fingers draw lazy patterns on her stomach, nails grazing up and down tanned skin as you trace out words you cannot bring yourself to say. In this moment, everything feels perfect. You’re not sure whether your mind is still clouded with desire, but you have to close your eyes to stop tears from falling.
“I love you,” you whisper, voice barely audible.
“I love you too,” she replies.
It’s easy to say it because it’s true.
It’s true because Alexia has been there for you like no one else.
Your whole life has felt like a terminal at an airport. Everyone around you has their own emotions about their own adventures, and the crowd rushes to various gates – various destinations – with urgency you have never sought, nor found. You often stand in the middle of the bustling, bumbling mass of people, head in your hands, wondering why they seem to know where life is taking them.
When you signed for Barcelona, it was a surprise. You hadn’t believed your little brothers when they had let it slip, and you were certain your worth was going to be exploited in another league – maybe you’d go back to Wolfsburg, maybe you’d explore abroad. Maybe your mother sending you away was a good thing, because it proved that Spain wasn’t your home.
Sure, you held the passport and spoke the languages, but… but maybe you didn’t belong.
Then came Alexia, who told you the opposite of what you were starting to live by.
Alexia – older, wiser, with a clear head on her shoulders and a drive like no other – wanted you to stay, wished you’d see yourself for what was so clearly in front of her eyes. You knew you were talented, but she knew you could be the best.
Just like she was.
Because Alexia was aware of the intricacies of ageing, of how experience was not going to be her saviour in the very end. She was focused on a legacy: her brilliance would live on in you.
She loved you for it.
She loves you still.
You can feel her heartbeat, steady and reassuring. Dawn casts shadows across Alexia’s features, hiding the dark circles under her eyes in a bath of dim grey. She smiles, and the tenderness in her gaze is reserved for you, reserved for moments like these. She reaches out, fingers brushing your cheek gently.
“We should get up,” she murmurs.
You nod, knowing she’s right. Alexia is always right; you’ve learnt that over the years you have been together. “Just a few more minutes,” you mumble back anyway.
Hands slide over your waist, pulling you into her body. Her laugh is quiet and giggly, full of love and fondness for a sentence she had predicted you’d say. “Okay,” she agrees. “So we’ll do three hours today, not two. Yeah?”
...
The dinner doesn’t last very long for you, although that may be because you make it painfully clear you want to leave after the first course. Your stepfather catches on – you question if he had been hoping for this – and jumps at the chance to drive you to a high-end restaurant in central Barcelona that he is sure you will enjoy.
He knows the chef, he says. He’ll wave money in your face and pretend that it makes these things forgivable.
You’re hardly arguing though, so there’s not much room for complaint.
The restaurant welcomes you into the cocktail bar, having awaited your arrival after being enticed by the name of the credit card attached to the tab. Your stepfather is well-known around these parts, and although the notion of a fifth member of his perfect family has been obscured for a long time, there is a shared surname between you and your little brothers that offers you half a place in this small shroud of gente rica.
Sitting alone at the bar, you order a martini. The glass is cold against your fingertips, and a shiver runs down your spine despite the warmth of the busy restaurant. It’s loud here, with every table full of happy, wealthy patrons who do both business and pleasure all at once, but you feel distant, disconnected.
You don’t belong here.
It’s a struggle of yours.
You never seem to belong anywhere; always an afterthought, always an add-on.
There is no space that is moulded to fit your body, no path that has been carved out solely for you. (Or, if there is, it is really fucking hard to find.)
Football is sort of your thing, but the whole nature of professional sport is to fight hard so you don’t get replaced – therefore implying that no one is inherently one-of-a-kind.
Sometimes, you convince yourself that that isn’t what you want, but that is a lie. Everyone wants to be unique. Everyone wants to be loved for who they are.
A tap on your shoulder pulls you out of your self-damning thoughts.
“Are you alone?”
You turn to find Alexia Putellas standing beside you, her eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and something else you can’t quite place. It seems she is more surprised to see you here than you are to see her, but she swallows her comment to look you up and down.
Her scrutiny is intimidating. Maybe that is how you are supposed to feel, maybe that is what she wants. After all, the intensity of the match still lingers in your aching muscles, and seeing her now, out of the context of football kits and harsh tackles, is almost surreal.
“Alexia, hi,” you say, forcing a smile.
She repeats her question firmly, concern knitting her brows together. She’s wearing makeup, but you decide she doesn’t need it.
Alexia is really pretty. You get lost on your way to answer her.
She places a hand on the same shoulder she tapped, unaware of how your skin sizzles because of her touch, fearing you will run away from her. You have a skittish look about you, she’s noticed, and, for some reason, she wants you to stay put.
“Come, sit.” Her hand waves in the direction of her table, filled with women around her age who must be her friends. A part of you finds it unfair that Alexia appears to have friends because someone once said sacrifices are the bricks that pave the way to success, but you put it out of mind to deal with politely declining her invitation.
Your hesitation only seems to spur her on, however.
“You remind me of me, you know.” Your martini glass is empty, and her nose wrinkles with disapproval.
“I do?” you ask, interested in what similarity she is going to draw between you.
She holds up two fingers to the bartender, mouthing her order with a small smirk, before looking down at you from where she stands and you sit, inspecting your face. Her fingers gently wrap around your chin, and she tilts your head upwards. “You have that look in your eyes.”
Laughter rings out from her table, followed quickly by calls for her to return to her meal. She ignores the noise, focused entirely on you.
Alexia tries to suppress her thoughts of how beautiful you look – how ruggedly captivating, how… enticing – and she is sure she is successful.
Until you lick your lips and ask her to elaborate.
She is silent for a moment.
It’s the first time someone has made you feel like nothing and everything all at once; like the brightest star in the galaxy, like an unused lump of clay. Like you are both wondrous and plain. Exceptional and just like everyone else.
Alexia’s and… not.
You are completely at her mercy.
You agree to join her and her friends for dinner.
As you approach the table, the group welcomes you with warm smiles and a polite interest in who you are. Alexia’s introduction makes you blush as she details your goal and the success attributed to you at such a young age (she emphasises that part for her own conscience), and it is only a moment before you settle into an empty seat beside her, somehow put at ease.
The conversation resumes its flow, light and lively, but Alexia is distracted from the discussion of their next holiday. She has questions, many of them, and she figures you are detached from the Catalan they speak in and are silently begging for a language you do understand.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Alexia murmurs in Spanish, leaning in a bit closer. “Figured you’d, you know, be licking your wounds in Valencia.”
Two drinks are delivered to your table; one for you, one for Alexia. She watches your lips as they part to take a sip, pinching her own thigh when she catches herself.
“I used to play for Levante,” she continues as you stoically nurse your drink. “When I was younger, Barça sent me off to get some experience. They called me back soon enough.”
“I never played for Barça.” She raises her eyebrows in surprise, more so for your assumption of her assumption than anything else. You notice her expression. You laugh and Alexia finds she’s quite a fan of that sound. “I’m from Barcelona, Alexia. I speak Catalan and everything.”
“You don’t sound–”
“My stepfather has a house in Sarrià and told me to fuck off to boarding school when I was younger. So I went to America and I had to do Spanish classes, and ‘cause I’d renounced my family, it was like learning Castellano all over again.”
“Like a madrileña,” Alexia finishes off, amused. “Boarding school, eh?”
“Lost my parents, lost my accent. Childhood of dreams,” you respond sarcastically. “I’ve just come from a family dinner, actually. I left after the starter because… well, it fucking sucked seeing my mother pretend–” You hold your tongue, embarrassed. “Sorry, I don’t mean to dump it all on you. The martini’s loosened my lips.”
Your laugh this time is self-deprecating and a little painful to hear. Alexia shakes her head and is about to encourage you to carry on, when she catches the heat rising to your cheeks and wonders whether that would be for the best. Instead, she thinks you might prefer to hear something else. “How about another drink after you’re done with that?”
The rest of the night is a blur.
Alexia is torn between wanting to impress you and wanting to protect you. She doesn’t know which to follow: the reasonable responsibility drilled into her head, captain of Barcelona, captain of Spain… or the pulse between her legs that grows stronger every time her gaze falls to the low-cut top you’re wearing. It’s this desire that must destroy her judgement, and, after you have insisted on paying for the meal with your stepfather’s credit card, Alexia finds herself having to text the younger girls at Barça to see if any of them can come get you.
Pina’s busy, Cata’s out with her friends, and Jana claims she’s emetophobic.
Briefly, Alexia wonders if she imagined you being friends with any of them, but, at the end of the day (or beginning – as it is rapidly approaching tomorrow), she really does have to take you somewhere. She won’t let your half-catatonic body lie on the streets of Barcelona, and so she hauls you into a taxi and waves goodbye to her friends.
“Interesting recruitment method for the B team,” jokes one of them as they disperse. “Wait, sorry. You waxed lyrical about her tonight enough for me to know that she’d be on the first team with you.”
“Her contract must be in the works,” Alexia agrees, choosing to ignore the saccharine tone such a compliment was voiced with. “I swear, she’s going to be the best.”
You’re not paying attention to any of this, of course, too busy pressing your hand against the glass of the taxi’s window, giggling every time you imprint the shape of your palm. “Alexia!” you call out, wanting her to share your enjoyment. “Alexia, look!”
She turns to look at you, her stern expression softening when she sees how your eyes have lit up. She can’t help but smile at the innocence of your little game, and if the taxi driver raises his eyebrows in the rearview mirror, Alexia chooses not to notice.
“Very impressive,” she says, cringing at how she sounds like she is soothing a child. You seem even younger now, especially when your ears perk up as she speaks in Catalan, a picture of something you confessed to have lost years ago.
It’s a horrible conflict to have brewing inside of her, and she shakes her head, trying to clear it. Her composure becomes harder to maintain with you being pressed up against her in the backseat, but all thoughts she has are thrown into a deep, dark ditch that she decides to deal with at a later date.
“Where are we going?” you ask, your voice slurred and eyes wide with curiosity.
“My place,” comes the simple reply. It’s the only option left. She knows she can make sure you’re safe, and, besides, the idea of you at her place feels comforting, as though it were not supposed to be any other way.
When the taxi finally pulls up outside her apartment building, Alexia pays the driver and helps you out of the car. You falter like a newborn foal learning to walk, and she encourages you to lean heavily on her so that the journey inside will be quicker. The walk to her door feels longer, and each step is tentative as she continues to debate her decision.
But she’s going to care for you. That’s all.
You marvel at her apartment, which shocks her after she has learnt about your childhood, but she takes the compliment and guides you to her bedroom under the guise of giving you a ‘tour’. The spare bedroom is unusable, seeing as the bed has become the latest storage cupboard for her boxes of awards and PR packages, so, again, this is the only option.
You collapse unceremoniously onto her mattress with a loud sigh.
Alexia stands there for a moment, watching as you settle into her bed. As much as responsibility and protectiveness hangs over her head, she also feels something much deeper inside of her beginning to swirl into a storm. She’s not ready to acknowledge it yet.
Taking a deep breath, she glances at you once more. “You need to rest.” Her voice carries the authority of the woman she is; a woman who is much older and wiser and who has more power than ethical to be feeling any kind of attraction towards you. Her hand hovers over you, brushing a stray hair from your forehead. The warmth of your skin under her fingertips sends a jolt through her, but she quickly pulls her hand back, focusing on her current task.
“Thanks, Alexia,” you mumble, already half-asleep.
After that close-call, she rights herself, looking around her room for a moment before heading to the kitchen to fetch you a glass of water. She places it on the bedside table, knowing you'll need it in the morning, not wanting to wake you up to drink it now. She then finds a spare blanket and a pillow, setting up a makeshift bed for herself on the sofa in the living room.
Exhausted from the day, she expects to fall asleep quickly, but she is tortured by the same question, over and over again.
How the fuck did she get here?
#this one might be build up#it may get worse#woso#woso x reader#woso fanfics#barca femeni#woso imagines#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas
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tomshiv - seasons 1 through 4
scenes from a failmarriage
(music: je te laissere des mots)
#tomshiv#tom x shiv#shiv roy#tom wambsgans#failmarriage#succession#succession hbo#tomshivedit#GOT SO EMOTIONAL EDITING AND COMPILING THIS#IM NOT OVER THEM#MY PARENTS#WHERE TF ARE THE BLOOPERS AND DELETED SCENES#they have my heart forever#here’s the compilation no one asked for#try not to scream cry and throw up challenge
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#god *screaming crying throwing up*#THESE BITCHES ARE IN LOVE#OHMYGOD#lesbians try to say i love you normally challenge (impossible)#crier's war#iron heart#atria reads
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ballad of lovebirds and puppy dogs | lando norris social media au
pairing: lando norris x fem actress!reader
face claim: rachel zegler
everyone is a hunger games fan, even if you say you're not a hunger games fan you are. this includes lando norris.
based on this request: could you please do a lando norris smau with rachel zegler as the fc!! where the ballad of songbirds and snakes recently came out, twitter could be freaking out over it, and then someone spots her with lando or something!! take it from there queen that’s just my like base plot‼️‼️ - @inejghafawifesblog
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yourusername: kinda have a movie coming out, have yall seen it?
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user1: ANNOUNCE RELATIONSHIP NOW
user2: friendships can exist between men and women you know?
user3: look at her holding his arm though that shit ain't platonic
hunterschafer: my favourite girl in the whole world
yourusername: that's crazy because you're my favourite girl in the whole world too
hunterschafer: crazy when that happens huh
tomblyth: does that mean i'm your favourite man in the whole world
yourusername: my lawyer said i can't answer this question
tomblyth: god you get a boyfriend and all of a sudden i don't mean shit
this comment has been deleted
tomblyth: does our frolicks in the woods mean nothing to you?
user4: WE SAW THAT GRANDPA
user5: sooooo. there is a man.
user6: and it's not tom :( so disappointing their chemistry was insane
user7: babe that's called acting
user8: lando norris in the likes i knew my man had TASTE
user9: i knew there was a reason i liked that man
f1gossipandtea
liked by user13, user14 and 12,309 others
tagged: yourusername, landonorris
f1gossipandtea: lando norris was spotted multiple times out in monaco with y/n y/ln !! this comes after his appearance at the premiere of her new film the ballad of songbirds and snakes. do you think they're a cute couple?
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user15: try not to say parents challenge (impossible)
user16: has someone looked into my brain and pulled out my dream threesome and made them a couple
user17: i need them to give me a chance for real
user18: i am defo anti-paparazzi but thank you for these absolute gems xx
user19: those motherfuckers must've been camped out cause literally got the whole itinerary
user20: this feels like such a random couple but after watching the BTS of tbosas they defo have very similar personalities
user21: i did a lil bit of sleuthing and tom has posts of him at races? so do we think he suggested lando? or showed him to y/n?
user22: i also had a wee look and y/n follows basically all of the grid and a couple of the retired drivers so that tells me she likes the sport? like if she just liked lando surely she'd only follow him and maybe some of his friends?
user23: so like my vision is y/n y/ln either performing or singing the national anthem at one of the american races
user24: someone get this gal in the fia stat
user25: who is this girl? she's too irrelevant for lando ...
user26: and who are YOU? he's not going to pick you girly
user27: she's in the top film in the world for weeks now ... let's not be silly
landonorris
liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,833,209 others
tagged: yourusername
landonorris: what the paps didn't get ...
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user28: screaming, crying, throwing up i did not know i needed this so much
user29: i am so unwell this is so cute
user30: i was so on the y/n and tom train but i am happy to say it has been hijacked by lando
yourusername: paps didn't get our good angles :(
landonorris: i'd like to keep the best angles to ourselves
yourusername: no for real, for MY eyes only
maxfewtrell: god you people are obnoxious...
landonorris: you literally told me to stop complaining about being lonely and now i'm being attacked 🤨
maxfewtrell: NOT LIKE THIS THERE ARE CHILDREN HERE
yourusername: fuck them kids
landonorris: what y/n said
danielricciardo: free enchante promotion, y/n you're invited to my wedding
yourusername: the girlfriend effect x enchante goes crazy tbf
landonorris: are you saying i didn't dress well?
yourusername: you either didn't dress well or can't pack for shit you came to GEORGIA IN THE SUMMER WITH A SUITCASE FULL OF HOODIES
landonorris: but that's my brand :(
georgerussell63: the twitch quartet formally announce our disappointment about finding out about this relationship via @f1gossipandtea, we expect a big apology and perhaps and visit from tom
tomblyth: i am THERE
yourusername: eh i think that's on lando .... but real question is who follows @f1gossipandtea
georgerussell63: me duh, i need to check for potential GDPA incidents
alexalbon: i also follow it 👍 no real reason i just like the drama thanks @charles_leclerc and @carlossainz55
yourusername: LMAO
charles_leclerc: i am disappointed in you lando. ALEX WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN
carlossainz55: ???
landonorris: lol would you have even believed me ?
georgerussell63: no
alexalbon: no
charles_leclerc: no
yourusername
liked by hunterschafer, landonorris and 1,339,309 others
tagged: landonorris
yourusername: some cheeky behind the scenes pics, including lando demanding to be pampered while i was in hair and make up
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user31: i hope lando can fight (i have brass knuckles on, sorry not sorry)
landonorris: UMMMM ???
yourusername: soz babe they're just passionate
user32: HE WAS ON SET? HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN GOING?
landonorris: how dare you !! the makeup girlies LOVE ME
yourusername: sure, if that's what you wanna believe
landonorris: they liked me better than you they said so :p
yourusername: they were just being nice i told them you're fragile
landonorris: i am NOT FRAGILE I AM SOFT THERE IS A DIFFERENCE
user33: okay now i get them 100%
maxverstappen1: so this is why you didn't play fifa with me 🤨
oscarpiastri: so this is why you abandoned me at the airport 🤨
danielricciardo: so this is why you blocked me after i called you seven times in a row it was an emergency you ASSHOLE 🤨
carlossainz55: so this is why you've ditched golf dates the last couple months 🤨
alexalbon: so this is why you didn't come to watch tbosas with me and lily 🤨
georgerussell63: so this is why the GDPA chat was muted on your phone 🤨
yourusername: i ain't reading alla that, i'm happy for you or i'm sorry that happened, i'll see you all in the parking lot at the vegas gp
landonorris: ...sorry?
user34: Y/N IS GOING TO THE VEGAS GP?
maxfewtrell: actually could you have him more often?
landonorris: AHAHAHAA :(
yourusername: gladly :)
landonorris: :)
f1
liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 1,441,723 others
tagged: landonorris
f1: lando's new helmet for vegas... we wonder where this inspiration came from?
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user38: IS THAT A BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS AND SNAKES HELMET
user39: maybe men do deserve rights
landonorris: the ballad of songbirds and snakes is out in cinemas everywhere now !!
yourusername: i knew they should've given you a cameo
landonorris: THERE WAS A CHANCE OF THAT?
yourusername: no, but it would've been funny tho
landonorris: don't get me excited like that :(
danielricciardo: maybe you could have a cameo in snow white, you are what the kids call a short king... sorry
yourusername: LMAO
landonorris: can we stop bullying me on my special post :(
yourusername: sorry babe, i love you and i love your helmet, thank you xxx
landonorris: THANK YOU :)))))
maxverstappen1: so you're telling me i sat through whatever the fuck that opening ceremony was when you could've had y/n perform the whole time?
yourusername: new agent incoming?
landonorris: I KNEW YOU WATCHED THE FILM
maxverstappen1: i am a supportive friend?
landonorris: you didn't even know her?
maxverstappen1: i saw you at the premiere, went through your instagram, saw you only followed her, put two and two together, went to see the film because we're friends by proxy now 👍
yourusername: i am scared and impressed
landonorris: fine... that's kinda cute
user40: okay soz i love this relationship and all the friendships starting
user41: okay but @yourusername who is winning the games
yourusername: fernando or valterri they scare me
fernandoalo_oficial: compliment!
valterribottas: i'll take it
landonorris
liked by maxfewtrell, yourusername and 1,723,990 others
tagged: yourusername
landonorris: i wanted to impress her :( she's a lot better at her day job
view all comments
user46: (i'm glad he's okay) lando really was the 'this one is for you babe' and misses meme this weekend
landonorris: not wrong
yourusername: GET OFF YOUR PHONE AND STOP TALKING DOWN TO YOURSELF
user47: currently picturing y/n whisper yelling positive affirmations at lando
yourusername: yes !! baby boy is way too hard on himself and NOT on my watch
landonorris: :)))
yourusername: you did so well this weekend, i loved watching you do what you love - don't be too hard on yourself !!
landonorris: i just wanted to do your helmet proud :(
yourusername: i am more than proud
landonorris: can you sing to me in your country accent again?
yourusername: of course
maxverstappen1: is this a kink?
landonorris: 1. no it's not a kink 2. ASK ME IF I'M OKAY BEFORE YOU TRY TO KINK SHAME ME
maxverstappen1: you're actually spelling even better maybe a concussion was what you needed
yourusername: TOO SOON MAX
maxverstappen1: did you just send me a picture of lando pouting
yourusername: yes ! say sorry now !!!!!
maxverstappen1: fine. i'm sorry lando. i'm glad you aren't hurt and that you don't have a country accent fetish
user48: are these the new terror trio?
yourusername
liked by alexalbon, landonorris and 1,552,589 others
tagged: landonorris
yourusername: don't listen to this bozo, he's the most talented boy in the world
view all comments
user49: THEY HAVE A CHILD?
user50: that's a dog...
yourusername: just because i didn't birth him, doesn't mean mr. fluffy isn't my biological child
landonorris: i'm not a step dad i'm the dad who stepped up 🆙
tomblyth: tom blyth erasure
yourusername: boo you whore
tomblyth: ermmm EXCUSE ME?
yourusername: lando appreciation post must be mean to all other men, sorry !!
tomblyth: understandable, continue.
landonorris: the most talented??? coming from you??? this is high praise
yourusername: and you BETTER take it
landonorris: yes ma'am
maxverstappen1: is this another kink?
landonorris: MAX?
maxverstappen1: it's winter break i'm bored and you have a GIRLFRIEND so i can't terrorise you in person :(
yourusername: attempt to kink shame us one more time and i'm sending mr fluffy at your ankles
yourusername: fuck it i'll send ankle biter yuki in as well
yukitsunoda0511: i'll do it
yourusername: @landonorris i see why he's your favourite now
landonorris: yuki-san!! can we give mr. fluffy a brother?
yukitsunoda0511: i love you guys but i see you way too much as it is
yourusername: harsh crowd
landonorris: at least you have me?
yourusername: TRUE
user51: my life pre and post y/nxlando was so vastly different - i love them
note: thank you for the request !! i have been swamped with work... and recovering from my birthday weekend. i hope you enjoyed it!! i love the hunger games and i can't wait to see tbosas !!
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 instagram au#f1 x you#f1#f1 social media au#lando norris insta au#lando norris x you#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris#the ballad of songbirds and snakes
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A day to forget | Matt Sturniolo
Matt Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where, in a day full of downs, Y/N faces a series of challenges at work that culminate in an anxiety attack in the car on the way home, but Matt is by her side to bring her back.
Warning: Anxiety attack, crying, bad thoughts, bad day.
Requested?: Yes, by anon
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
Y/N sighed as she sat at her office desk, preparing herself for another day of work. The comforting smell of the freshly brewed coffee Matt bought at the Starbucks drive thru on the way to her company surrounded her as she adjusted her chair and turned on her computer.
But what seemed like a smooth start quickly turned into a disaster.
As the girl reached for her mouse, her elbow hit the cup, which surprisingly wasn't closed properly, spilling the scalding liquid onto her keyboard and legs. An involuntary scream escaped her lips as she jumped up from her chair, trying to clean up the mess with her hands, hurting them in the process. Her eyes traveled across her desk, picking up the nearest blank papers - since she didn't have any napking - draping them over her thighs.
"Great, just great." She muttered to herself, feeling the penetrating heat of the drink on her skin and the bitter aroma mixing with the smell of the office.
Embarrassed, she crumpled up the paper, throwing them in the trash beneath her desk before heading over to the tea table, picking up a handful of napkins, her eyes darting around her, feeling gazes burning into her back.
The girl took a deep breath, turning around and returning to her seat. Surreptitiously, she cleaned the keyboard as best she could and tried to dry her legs with what was left of the napkins, but the damage was done.
Feeling discouraged, she tried to focus on her work, but her mind was troubled by the incident.
Hours passed, and Y/N was immersed in an important project when her boss, Mr. Johnson appeared next to her desk.
“Y/N, can you give me the reports from the finance department?” He asked in a serious voice, his eyes running over the small drips of coffee dry on the wooden surface as his nose wrinkled at the strong smell.
Without thinking, Y/N picked up the documents that were in the pile of papers on the right side of her desk and handed them to him with a confident smile. However, her confidence quickly disappeared when she read a small excerpt from the back of the last page, then realizing that she had given him the wrong papers.
A feeling of horror overcame her when she saw the shocked expression on her boss's face as he looked at the contents.
"What is this, Y/N?" His voice was thick with anger as he looked at her disapprovingly. "Those aren't the reports I asked for!"
Y/N felt her face burn with embarrassment as she tried to articulate an apology, but the words seemed to stick in her throat. She helplessly watched her boss throw the papers haphazardly beside her right arm, turning and walking away, muttering irritably about the incompetence of some employees.
Shoulders slumped, Y/N turned forward, fighting back tears of frustration, her blurry vision distorting the entire contents of her computer. She wondered how she could have made such a silly mistake and felt discouraged by her own incompetence.
As she tried to refocus on her work with the onset of a headache and her chest burning in agony, the office light flickered and then went out completely. A collective sigh of frustration echoed through the office as all the employees were plunged into darkness.
Y/N clenched her fists in frustration as she realized she hadn't saved her recent work, the black screen staring back at her. She knew she would have to start from scratch, probably take work home so she could finish the task on time, having already irritated her boss beyond belief, a disheartening thought after such a disastrous day.
In the dark silence of the office, Y/N fought the feeling of defeat that threatened to consume her. She knew she would have to overcome the day's challenges and continue, after all, she was just another employee and couldn't afford to rest her mind before keep going, and at the moment, all she wanted was to escape the turmoil and forget the terrible day she had.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
The clock marked the end of the day, and the office was empty. Y/N collected her belongings and headed to the company entrance, ready to meet her boyfriend Matt, along with Nick and Chris, who would pick her up after they finished recording the car video that would be posted the next day.
She waited patiently in front of the front doors, watching the strong wind sway the palm trees around the luxurious entrance. Her thoughts wandered to the disastrous day she had at work, reliving each moment in her mind, wearing herself down with the thoughts of what she could have done better for everything that happened, not happening. The feeling of failure weighed heavily on her shoulders, but she forced herself to maintain a neutral expression, hiding her emotions from the few passersby who passed by.
Time passed, and Matt still hadn't arrived. Y/N checked the time on her phone several times, feeling impatience growing inside her. She knew she should give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, unforeseen events happened, but her anxious mind couldn't help but think about all the things that could have happened.
Then, as if the universe were conspiring against her, the gray clouds above her head broke, and torrential rain began to fall. Y/N looked up, feeling the cold drops wet her face and penetrate her clothes, soiling her pants even more. She wished she had brought an umbrella, but it was too late to regret it now.
As she waited in the rain, Y/N felt flooded with a mix of emotions. The frustration of the day was mixed with concern about Matt being late and the feeling of helplessness in the face of adverse weather. She wanted to burst into tears, to let out all the tension and anguish she had been carrying, but a part of her refused to give in.
Instead, Y/N maintained a mask of calm, keeping her emotions locked inside herself as her mind screamed silently, her arms crossed tightly beneath her breasts, trying to trap as much heat as possible.
Finally, after an endless wait, Y/N saw Matt's car approaching. Her heart leaped in relief as he stopped in front of her, watching Chris rush out the passenger door, leaving it open for her and getting into the backseat next to Nick.
"Sorry I'm late, babe." Matt asked after making sure she was seated and comfortable, a guilty smile decorating his face. "We had some problems with the topics and barely noticed the time passing."
Y/N just nodded, forcing a smile in response. She knew there was no point in complaining or breaking down now.
As the car drove away from the company, leaving chaos and rain behind, Y/N took a deep breath as she leaned her head against the glass, ignoring the discomfort of her clothes sticking against her skin.
In the back seat, Chris and Nick were immersed in a lively conversation about one of the topics discussed in the video as the car moved along the wet road, a topic that Y/N was sure she would've joined on the discussion if she wasn't feeling so bad.
The steady rhythm of the rain beating against the glass provided a relaxing background, but this calm was soon interrupted when Chris decided, out of the blue, that he wanted to connect his phone to the car speaker to put some music.
"Wait, I found a song earlier today that's a very Lil Skies vibe." Chris said with an excited smile, fishing his cell out of the front pocket of his sweatpants.
Before he could select the song, Nick acted quickly, taking the device out of Chris's hand.
"No, wait! Billie released a new song recently." Nick recalled, with a challenging tone of voice. "You always pick the same songs."
Chris frowned, retrieving his phone again, as if it were a tug of war.
"No, today I want to listen to my songs!"
The exchange quickly turned into an argument, with Chris and Nick gradually raising their voices as they argued over who should control the car stereo like two kids, while Matt watched them in the rearview mirror, telling them to shut up from time to time. The friendly atmosphere of the previous moment quickly disappeared, replaced by a palpable tension that filled the interior of the vehicle.
Meanwhile, Y/N huddled tighter on her seat, feeling more and more overwhelmed by the tense atmosphere. She tried to focus on the scenery passing by the window, but the sound of Chris and Nick's loud, gruff voices hit her like an avalanche.
She closed her eyes for a moment, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm her nerves. She knew she shouldn't get involved in the brothers' fight, that she had nothing to do with it, and that, unsurprisingly, discussions like that were routine in her life. But despite her efforts to control herself, the pressure of the horrible day she had had weighed on her shoulders like an unbearable burden.
As the argument continued to intensify, Y/N felt a wave of anxiety wash over her, the desperation to scream at them to shut up getting bigger. Her heartbeat accelerated, her breathing became shallow, and her hands began to shake involuntarily.
She knew an anxiety attack was coming, but she fought to contain it, fearing what would happen if she lost control, not wanting to worry the boys, or worse, upset them even more.
However, even with all her determination, Y/N was unable to prevent the inevitable. Chris and Nick's rising voices, mixed with the crushing weight of her own worries, were too much to bear. A sudden sob escaped her throat, tearing the air inside the car, which was soon followed by more sobs, each one more anguished than the last.
Her shoulders began to shake violently, her body contorting under the overwhelming weight of her emotions. She tried to hold back, but the tears came in torrents, blurring her vision and obscuring her world.
Matt looked away from the road to look at her, his expression turning to immediate concern when he saw her condition.
"Y/N, babe, what's going on?" He asked, his voice full of alarm.
Chris and Nick abruptly fell silent, their argument forgotten as they looked at Y/N with expressions of shock and concern.
But Y/N couldn't respond. She was deep in her own mind, fighting the waves of anxiety that consumed her. Her world had narrowed to nothing but pain and despair, her body shaking uncontrollably under the weight of her thoughts.
The interior of the car was immersed in a tense silence. Matt kept a steady hand on the steering wheel, but his attention was entirely focused on Y/N, whose sobs filled the space between them.
"Baby? Hey, petal, look at me." Matt asked softly, his voice flooding with concern as he tried to reach her through the abyss of her anguish.
Y/N reluctantly raised her eyes to meet Matt's, but her vision was blurred by the tears still streaming down her face. She felt a wave of despair as she realized that she couldn't calm down no matter how hard she tried.
Matt took his right hand off the steering wheel, keeping control of the car with his left one, bringing it to Y/N's leg, stroking the wet covered skin with a firm touch, trying to bring her back.
"Breathe with me, baby. C'mon, take a deep breath. That's it, in... then out."
He began counting in a low voice, guiding her through deep, slow breaths. Y/N tried to follow his instructions, focusing on the rhythm of her breathing and the comforting feeling of Matt's touch.
Meanwhile, Chris remained silent in the backseat, his expression a mixture of guilt and concern. He knew that his actions had contributed to Y/N's current state, and that weighed heavily on his conscience.
Beside him, Nick placed a light hand on her shoulder, silently conveying support. He wanted to find the right words to comfort Y/N, but he felt helpless in the face of the situation.
Then, suddenly, Matt turned the steering wheel abruptly, turning the car towards the side of the road, parking it there quickly, knowing that he would get nowhere if he kept trying to help her in a moving vehicle. He unbuckled his own belt, followed by hers before turning fully to his girl, his eyes fixed on hers with gentle determination.
"Sweetheart, listen to me." The brunette ordered, his voice firm, but full of love. "You're safe. I'm here with you, and I'm not going anywhere."
He gently took her face in his hands, caressing the icy skin of her cheeks and leaning over the console to kiss her forehead tenderly. Each gesture was full of care and affection, an attempt to dispel the fog of anxiety that enveloped Y/N.
"You are strong, my beautiful, beautiful girl." Matt continued, his voice soft and comforting. "You'll get through this. I'm here for you no matter what."
With his loving words and gentle touches, Matt began to guide Y/N out of the abyss of her anxiety attack. He wrapped her in his protective arms, almost laying his torso on the console - ignoring the pain the hard surface provided to his skin, holding her tightly as she sobbed into his chest.
Minute by minute, Y/N's shaking lessened, her breathing becoming more regular. Finally, after what looked like an eternity, she pulled away slightly from Matt's arms, looking up at him with gratitude in her moist eyes.
"Thank you." She whispered, her voice breaking, her teeth catching her lower lip momentarily, feeling guilty for making them have to witness such a situation. "I... I'm fine now."
"I'm so proud of you, sweetheart. So, so proud." Matt smiled at her, his eyes brimming with relief as her voice emanated calm. "I love you."
"I love you more."
As the car returned to the road, the storm inside Y/N began to dissipate. Her arms remained crossed around her own torso, trying to convey some sort of comfort to her body as she didn't receive the touch from Matt that she so desperately craved.
"I'm sorry, boys." The girl whispered a few seconds later, turning slightly back, her eyes darting from Chris to Nick and back again.
"Never apologize for situations like this, Y/N. You can't control your body, much less your emotions." Nick quickly stopped her avalanche of negative thoughts, giving her a serious but loving look.
"It's us who should apologize. I imagine something must have happened before, but either way, we're the ones who caused this." Chris looked down at the top of the car's console, scratching the back of his head with his right hand in embarrassment.
"It's okay. It was just a bad day." The girl smiled slightly at the two, her eyes still burning from the intense crying and her body sore from the strong tremors, but her heart could now rest.
Matt looked at her momentarily, smiling big and proud, his blue eyes shining with pure love. His hand, which was still on her thigh, lightly pressed the covered skin, stroking it with his thumb, before turning his gaze forward again.
༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
My asks are always open. My requests are closed at the moment since I have many to work in, but you can always send questions or simply talk to me 🩷💋
And remember to treat people with kindness always!
~ taglist:
@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @sturniolho @ksskianshd @ccolleenn @sturniolo-lover1317 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @hrtyjy @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @bellasfavbisexual @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @thebottledwatersupplier @soso-scarlettolivia @maryx2xx @sturnolio-luvs @bitchydragonparadise @lvrsturn @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @0strawberrysorbet0 @iammattswife
(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)
#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets#x reader#sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#fic#fiction#imagine#oneshot#matt sturniolo fic#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo angst#matthew bernard sturniolo#matthew sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#matt x reader#matt au#matt fanfic#matty#matt#fluff#angst#matt sturniolo x reader fluff#matt sturniolo x reader angst
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all-american bitch!
pairing: ellie williams x reader
warnings: mostly fluff, cursing, suggestive themes maybe.
a/n:i wrote this for my monthly challenge in our writing server, so if you see GUTS themed ellie and abby fics... that's why.... so i chose the song, all american bitch because i thought it would be a difficult write and wanted to challenge myself. so this one is a little shorter and i hope you enjoy! AI AUDIO in the fic also reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses
wc: 1k
"with perfect all-american lips."
ellie wanted to hate you.
with every fiber in her being, she wanted to hate you. but as she sat in the student center, laptop open and earbuds in, she couldn’t help but stare. from her place at the table she could see you wide-eyed and grinning, talking to a group of people she didn’t know. when you laughed you touched the shoulder of the guy to your right, but when you smiled you leaned into the girl to your left. she noticed how you looked at people when they spoke, hanging onto every word they were saying. every time the group would laugh at a joke or statement you made, she watched as you nervously fiddled with the necklace loosely hung around your neck with your initial on it.
she wanted to hate you but she didn’t. instead, she hated everything she thought you represented. the mean girls in the movies or the girl next door. you were somehow all of it wrapped up in one. she didn’t know you at all but somehow you were the perfect all-american -
“bitch!” a girl sitting across from you screamed, throwing her full cup of coke onto your face, causing everyone to stand up and gasp. ellie stood up with them, removing her headphones and ignoring the pull of dina’s hand, asking her what she was doing.
you wiped the sticky liquid from your eyes, and tried to get as much of it off your face so you could walk back to your dorm. when you began picking up your things and noticed no one was going to follow you, ask if you were okay, or defend you, a tear formed in your eye. you, however, was determined to not cry in front of most of the people that attended this school. instead, you scurried off as quickly as you could.
ellie didn’t even notice she was following you till the brisk fall air hit her face. your feet were moving faster than her mind was going, but she was determined to catch up.
“hey,” she called out. you didn’t turn around though, you just kept walking. from where she was she could hear your sniffles, “hey! are you okay?”
that got your attention. you stopped, not turning around, and waited for ellie to circle around you and say something.
“are you okay?” she asked again, watching your stunned face. she ignored the bubbling in her stomach at being this close to you. she could see every detail of your face, every crease, every freckle, and every pore. you were prettier up close, “i saw what happened back there… it looked brutal.”
“i’m,” a tear slipped from your face and onto your already damp clothes, ellie was sooooo not looking at your tits right now, “i’m fine.”
“are you sure?” she asked again, eyes searching your face for an answer, “none of your friends came to check on you?”
“i guess they aren’t really friends, huh,” you laughed dryly, wiping at your eye again.
“just shitty ones,” she joked back, “look, do you want me to help you get cleaned up? maybe you can vent to me about whatever the fuck that just was.
your eyes scanned her face this time, “why would you do that? you don’t know me?”
“i think you may be in need of some new friends,” she smiled, making you crack a small one.
“very true.”
------
ellie helped wipe the coke off your face and neck. since it had been sitting on your skin for a while it had gone sticky, and you were getting choked up trying to wipe everything off. plus, ellie was so nice and tender, gently rubbing at your skin and making sure she wasn’t rubbing to hard. she held your face in her hand, turning it and using your roomates expensive facewash to get it clean. when it came to your chest she backed up, saying a, “i shouldn’t.”
“why?” you asked, “we’re both girls.”
“i think i’m supposed to ask you out on a date before doing that.” she chuckled, stepping back a little further, expecting rejection, a slap in the face, anything.
“oh,” you said, eyeing her up and down, head-turning and lips pursed when you saw her tattoos, “could have figured from the tattoo alone.”
“hey! are you saying my tattoo makes me look gay?” she laughed, a big bright smile on her face. this time when you smiled you showed your teeth. ellie’s face turned a bright red, as she looked down. she made you smile, she was proud of that.
“it’s a dead giveaway that you’re gay,” you giggled again. ellie looked up at you, squinting her eyes.
“if you knew that i was gay then, why did you let me come in and?” ellie’s voice got quiet, she didn’t want you to think she was a creep. it’s not like she came in here to flirt with you, or did she. the way you were looking at her was making all her thoughts mesh together into slush.
“i don’t know,” your voice was teasing, you were fucking teasing her, “maybe i wanted a cute girl to come in here and clean me up.”
“cute?” ellie laughed.
“yeah, cute,” you repeated, pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth, “like how you’re blushing right now. that’s cute.”
ellie’s face got even redder somehow, causing her to hang her head and pinch the bridge of her nose, “fuck.”
“were you going for hot?” you asked, reaching for her from your place on the bathroom counter, pulling at the sleeves of her oversized t-shirt so she would move closer to you.
“what about my t-shirt doesn’t scream hot?” she looked up now, and fuck was she close to you.
“cute and funny,” you smiled, eyes bright, “who would’ve thought?”
ellie looked away again, flustered still, but still in your grasp, “you forgot respectable.”
you laughed and ellie was close enough to feel your breath on her neck. she shivered, but her eyes met yours again.
“when are you going to ask?” you whispered, voice low.
“what?”
“the date?” you clarified, making her smile grow again.
“oh, yeah,” she rubbed the back of her neck nervously, “do you want to go on a date with me?”
“yes.”
#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie williams tlou#ellie williams x reader smut#ellie williams the last of us#ellie williams tlou2#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams fan fic#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams imagine#ellie williams oneshot#modern!ellie williams#college!ellie williams#ellie williams one shot
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what would scumbag!soap do if you got pregnant, would he stick around?
cw: toxic relationship, scumbag!soap🍃
trying to get scumbag!soap to stay was most definitely a challenge... because, he always believed you two were just friends with benefits, nothing more than just fuck buddies. of course, he always got pissed off when you had sex with other men, because you were still his, even if you didn't label eachother as girlfriend and boyfriend. :(
he'd always fuck his aggression and frustration out onto you when you came home with hickeys covering your body. johnny would degrade you for being a dirty, little slag for everybody's attention. ploughing into your slicken, drooling cunny, rubbing your clit and dragging out your orgasm ‘til you were crying and degrading yourself for being a whore. :((
“filthy, dirty thing’.. look at all these hickeys on yer’ neck.”
so when he accidentally knocked you up, he didn't believe he was the father. i mean, you're a slut, you're probably having sex with multiple men a week! so when you cried to him, smiling and handing him a pregnancy test, he didn't believe you. throwing it down on the couch, screaming at you for trying to ‘trap him’.
instead of comforting you — talking about your future together as parents — he went and got drunk before having sex with one of his side chicks. he came back to an empty house, all your belongings missing, the pregnancy test still laying on the couch from when he threw it down. :(
you didn't answer any calls or messages, completely ignoring him. eventually, you blocked him, hitting the button through glossy, blurred eyes, tears rolling down your raw cheeks. one hand on your stomach, crying into your pillow quietly...
#orla speaks#soap mactavish#john soap mactavish#soap cod#soap call of duty#cod soap#soap mw2#soap x reader#john mactavish x reader#johnny mactavish#soap mactavish x reader#john mactavish
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Little Red Riding hood lost in the woods
Summary: You knew it was a mistake to go into the woods at night.
Written for: This is my dark and mordern interpretation of Little Red Riding Hood for @boxofbonesfic 𝒪𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒰𝓅𝑜𝓃 𝒜 𝒯𝒾𝓂𝑒…challenge. Congratulations on your milestone again.
Square G2 filled for @allcapsbingo: Claim fuck
Ship: (Alpha) Werewolf!Bucky Barnes x Omega!(LittleRedRidingHood) Reader
Tags/Warnings: angst, chasing, fear, dark!fic, werewolf trope, a/b/o, scenting, marking, mating, huge cock, dub-con, non-con due to monster fucking (yes, you heard right; we will get the big bad wolf this time), smut, unprotected sex, implied breeding kink, biting, blood, transformation, manipulation, implied kidnapping, the reader is an adult and at age, this story is 18+
Words: 1,8+
A/N: Please consider I stepped out of my comfort zone and wrote something dark this time. Head the warnings and read at your own risk. Don’t like, don’t read.
Little Red Riding Hood.
That’s what people call you. You found it cute when you were younger, adorable even. Now that you are a grown woman, a feisty and stubborn one, it’s not adorable anymore, it’s an offense.
You’re still wearing a red hooded cloak in honor of your grandmother. She passed away some years ago, and you just can’t forget about her, or the fairytales she told you.
About wolves lurking in the dark. Finding their mates by watching, searching, and sniffing around humans. She warned you not to go into the woods after dark. You could only visit her cabin nestled deep in the woods during the daytime.
All your life you listened to her warnings. Never enter the woods after dark. All your life, until tonight.
Grief held your heart in such a tight grip that you had to visit her cabin.
It’s not too far from your home, and you believe nothing will happen to you if you follow the path you know by heart. The one framed with wildflowers and the sigils your grandmother carved into the trees. For protection – she always said, while mumbling words you didn’t understand.
If only you listened to her.
Now you are on the run, chased by a man-sized beast. You only got glimpses of the beast hunting you, but it was enough to know it would kill you if you let it get closer.
“Omega,” it snarls in your direction, knowing that you are hiding behind another tree. “Come to me.”
You gasp as the large wolf-like creature stops in front of the tree. It looks directly at you for a moment. The wolf throws its head back and howls loudly.
“Go away,” you whisper more to yourself than the creature. You place your hand on the tree trunk, praying that the sigils your grandmother carved deep into the tree will protect you from the beast.
The sigils are faded, but the beast won’t get close.
“Omega.”
The wolf snarls at you. It waits and waits as you remain behind the tree. You hold your breath as it steps toward the tree.
It whines, and you swear its features are twisted in pain for a second before the wolf steps back again.
“No.”
“You’re mine,” it says. Or at least you believe the wolf speaks to you as it moves back. The wolf sits down, waiting patiently for you to come closer. “Come here.”
You violently shake your head. “Go away, beast,” you reply. You’re still out of breath from all the running and try to find a way to escape the wolf without running again. If there is a way.
“You’re scared,” a deep guttural noise leaves the beast’s throat. You still have no idea how you can understand its words. “Good.”
Your eyes widen as the beast stares back at you. Up close it looks even taller than before, and you know you won't stand a chance.
“Come here,” it insists.
When you don’t move a muscle, the beast stomps its forepaws on the ground. The ground shakes violently. You scream in terror as the tree protecting you from the beast splits into two halves.
All you can do is jump out of the way to avoid being hit by the tree’s branches. You land on your back, crying out in pain as the beast purrs in your direction. “I will tame you, feisty omega.”
You’re shaking in fear. Whatever the beast is after, it’s not its next snack. That wolf wants something else, so you fear.
“Go away.”
You stare at the beast, watching it tilt its head. It listens to your ragged breathing and silent whimpers. Whatever the beast in front of you is, it knows you already lost this fight.
“Go away…just go away,” you chant. “Please let this be a nightmare.”
The wolf watches you for a heartbeat, and another before howling again. This time, the beast straightens its back. It keeps its eyes on you.
It rolls his shoulders back, whining low as you hear bones crack, and muscles tear. You can’t look away, you can't run as the wolf turns into a human-like beast.
The beast stands on its hind feet and clenches its fists. Even though it looks more human now, it’s still a beast ready to devour you.
“No.”
You stand up and go for a sprint. Panic rises in your chest as you hear the beast follow you close behind. You look over your shoulder, screaming in terror as the wolf chases you again.
Its speed is inhuman. You can’t compare. While you aimlessly run through the woods, praying you’ll find one of the trees your grandmother marked, the beast is right behind you.
“Stop now," it calls for you. “I’ll be kind to you. I won’t hurt you.”
You keep running, but the beast won’t have it. It stomps his left hind foot again, shaking the ground. You fall to your knees and crawl away.
“These woods belong to me and my kind. Our ancients walked these grounds ages before your kind was born. Soon you will be one of us, my omega and mate.”
“Leave me alone. Please just go away,” you sniffle as you scramble to your feet. “I didn’t do anything to you.”
"I smelled you from a mile away."
He stalks toward you, chuckling darkly. “I like the cloak, take it off and put it aside. We don’t want it to get dirty when you are on your hands and knees for me. Be good, and I won't hurt you.”
You’re frozen to the spot. It feels like your body obeys the beast’s orders. “Do it now, omega.” You unclasp your cloak with stiff fingers. “Good girl. Now put it aside and come here.”
It’s a struggle not to scream as the beast pounces on you. You end up underneath the enormous beast, trembling as it's nose buries into your neck. It inhales your scent, snarling and purring as its claw-like hands rip your clothes to shreds.
“You’re mine.”
You sniffle silently as the beast manipulates your body. It runs his furry hands all over your body, as you try to let your mind wander. One of its claws pushes your upper body down and holds you to the muddy ground.
You struggle to not lose your mind. The last thing you want is to feel the beast spread your legs or his face buried in your cunt. Its long tongue teases your folds, making you whimper at the odd sensation. This monster forces you into submission with every swirl of its tongue.
“No,” you whine and scream, hoping someone stops the beast. It’s no use. The wolf slips its long tongue into your cunt, slowly fucking you with the skilled muscle. “Oh god, no. This can’t be…no.”
Its hot breath fans over your exposed ass while his tongue slides in and out of you. You have never felt so helpless before. A beast pushes its tongue inside of you, and all you can do is drool and moan.
You writhe on its tongue, hips rolling on their own as you chase a high you didn’t ask for. The beast growls against you, greedily drinking your juices when you gush over its snout.
“Good omega,” the beast purrs as you feel like in limbo. A boneless body, getting lifted by the beast. You feel it shift behind you. With its enormous, dense body, it covers your trembling form. Its fur tickles your skin as the wolf wiggles its hips. “Have all of me now.”
Your eyes snap open the moment you feel something bigger prob at your entrance. You took a big cock before, even a knot. But the thing slowly pressing into you is far from normal. “No…too much…stop.”
“You can take it, omega,” it purrs in your ear. “Take me. All of me.”
The fight is over. You must surrender.
The beast slowly inches its way inside your body. You cry as the wide stretch is painful. It's too much of the beast, and it still pushes further in. “Almost.”
Tears spill from your eyes as the beast snaps its hips into your ass. You are entirely at the beast’s mercy. It covers your body and presses you into the ground. Its huge cock is nestled inside your body, and all you can do is let it have whatever it wants from you.
“So good.”
The beast starts to move, and it feels like it tries to be careful. It doesn’t make sense. The wolf was chasing you, and now it forced its cock inside of your body. “Relax, ‘mega,” you hear his voice turn softer. “You are doing so well for me, Y/N.”
You gasp. How can the beast rutting into you know your name?
“How…?” you choke out a moan as the beast angles his hips, now hitting that spot making you see stars. Your vision becomes blurry as the beast on top of you starts to slam into you in abandon.
“You’re mine.”
Your body surrenders first. Your walls tighten around his thick cock, and you feel slick run down your thighs. It’s over. The beast got what it wanted and will kill you after it’s done with you. You’re sure of it.
“Mine.”
A scream tears from your throat when the beast’s teeth sink into your neck. It breaks your mating gland, growling against you as you pass out.
The last thing you feel is the blood running down your neck and its cum filling your abused cunt. “Mine…”
You wake. It’s odd, but you wake.
After what happened last night you didn’t expect to breathe another day. But here you are sleeping on a soft mattress.
“You’re awake, good.”
Your eyes widen in shock. You recognize the voice from last night, but it's not the wolf standing in front of you. It’s one of your regulars from your library.
He often comes to town to borrow books. His name is James or Bucky.
“What?”
“You must be very confused,” he bares his pearl-white teeth while speaking to show off dominance. “You will adapt soon, doll. I had to mark you before anyone else got the chance. You were ripe for harvest and I’m alpha prime, the one who can choose his mate first.”
“I-I don’t understand,” you whisper as you touch your neck. There is a scar in form of human teeth, but nothing else. “What happened…it must’ve been a dream.”
“Not a dream.”
Bucky morphs his face.
“No! No!” you scream as the beast looks back at you. “This can’t be…why?”
“Because you are mine and this is your new life. You never have to go back to town ever again. Soon my pups will grow in your belly. We are going to be a big happy family.”
Your blood runs cold as you press your hand to your belly. “No…no…”
“If we didn’t make it this time,” he grins wolfishly, “I love trying…”
I won’t do tags for this story because it’s a dark story. I don’t want anyone to read a story which isn’t their cup of tea.
#bucky barnes x reader#werewolf!Bucky Barnes#allcapsbingo#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#tw: dubcon#tw: noncon#tw: a/b/o#alpha!bucky x omega!reader#dark!bucky barnes x reader#dark!alpha Bucky
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i can’t find the request but i do remember someone asking me to write jude bellingham breaking up with reader because he changed so here we go!
jude bellingham x reader
you’ve changed
“what you mean you need space?” you asked him with tears in your eyes.
“i mean i need space…i need to focus on my career and i can’t do that if you’re here all the time, i need to stay alone and i need my time to rest and i can’t do it with you here…” he spoke, his eyes never meeting you le teary ones, too ashamed to confess he was being a dick.
“but why? i - i told you that i could rent my own place, i don’t need to live with you” you tried to resonate with him.
“it’s not just that…” he had no excuses. he didn’t love you anymore but he didn’t know how to say it.
“then what? jude i can’t recognize you anymore…what did you do? did you cheat? did you cheat and your too coward to admit it?” you asked, completely mad.
he wished it was like that. he wished he cheated just so you could hate him. but here you were, trying to save something that couldn’t be saved.
jude knew that your relationship was long gone but he had no idea how to say it to your face. to the person who sacrificed everything just to follow him in madrid when he joined last summer. the person who said goodbye to her family just so you could be with him. the person who was going on and off to london to see her friends because she didn’t want to leave jude alone.
he knew this was fucked up but he couldn’t explain it.
“i didn’t cheat…” he said not even showing emotions in his voice.
“then did you meet someone? you want me to break up with you so you could go to her?” you started asking him million questions and you had every right of it.
“there’s no one else! i promise you…”
“so why are you doing this?” you cried “four years of relationship jude, and you’re going to throw all away because of what?” you couldn’t believe of what he was saying.
“because i need my space!”
“i’ll fucking give you space if that’s what you need! i’ll move out, i’ll go back to london if you don’t wanna see me here, i just need to understand what is that you really need…why are you doing this?” you ended up screaming.
“i can’t…” he knew that you were going to cry even more and he hated seeing you crying, he hated knowing that he was the one who was making you cry right now.
but you had every right to know.
“you’ve changed jude…i barely recognize you…you’ve changed and i’m not the only one who’s noticing this, your family, your friends…i don’t even know you anymore” you confessed.
you started to hate his new personality.
parties all summer, almost forgetting your birthday night, not coming to your brother’s graduation, hell, being too busy for your fourth anniversary.
but no matter what, you always forgave him.
him and his poor excuses, you wanted to stay positive and think that everything was going to be good.
“i don’t love you anymore” he said.
no regrets.
you looked at him in the eyes and moved closer to his body.
“say it again but look me in the eyes next time” you challenged him.
“i - i don’t love you anymore y/n…i don’t have feelings for you no more” he said. a tear running down his cheek, not because he was sorry, but because he knew you were in pain because of him. he didn’t love you anymore but that didn’t mean he didn’t care about you. he still cared about you and he will always care about you.
you were his first love. his first kiss. his first time. but sometimes first things aren’t meant to last forever.
you were shocked when you heard those words again.
“i’ll leave and i’ll come back when you’re at practice to pack all of my stuff…” you didn’t even look him in the eyes, too hurt to show him any sign of respect.
you couldn’t believe it was over, not after everything you’ve been through.
but it was.
and it was hurting you more than you ever thought.
#football imagine#football x reader#football one shot#football fan#football headcanon#football smut#football story#football fanfic#football imagines#football fluff#football#jude bellingham one shot#jude bellingham#jude bellingham imagines#jude bellingham drabble#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham x y/n#jude bellingham x you#jude bellingham smut#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham oneshot#jude bellingham x oc#jude bellingham real madrid#real madrid
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The Challenge— Chapter 9
When you died, you were going to have an all white funeral.
It was something that had been decided by your entire family, not even by your agreement but by tradition. According to them, a funeral was a celebration, not an occasion to be sad.
When you joined the 141, they were required to ask how you wanted preparations to be set up, if there were any “special requests.”
Your mom answered that one for you.
Never in his life did Gaz actually assume he would show up to a funeral in white.
He almost thought he would have to do it.
“This is bull shit!”
Soap’s yell snaps Gaz out of his thoughts, and he looks back at where the man is sitting on the edge of his seat yelling at the others in the room. Specifically you, who’s sitting there half in tears. If your laughing or crying is still completely unknown to him. “That clue is bull shit and you know it.”
“I’m literally HANDING you the answer!!” You yell back at him, almost choking over both your words and laughter at the same time.
“NO. YOU ARENT. THAT ANSWER IS SO SHITTY A TOILET WOUKDNT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH IT!!!” Soap hollers back, and the rookies explode with laughter.
“ITS A FUCKING MOVE THEY DO!”
“I don’t know what the fuck a pas de deux is but it does NOT. EXIST.”
“Bitch i was one of these hoes for twelve years, I WOUKD KNOW”
And so it continues. It had started out with a simple game between the four of you, well, three considering Si opted out, but it quickly turned into a good natured screaming match over the game. Headbands always turned out like this though, at least whenever Soap played.
“Thirty seconds, suds.” Price grumbled from the couch, and you snapped your fingers quickly, trying to think of something to give him a hint.
“Fuck uhhh, okay The Nutcracker?”
“Actor?”
“No, no but you’re close. They move around a lot more?”
“A soldier.”
“No, damnit. Like, like— fuck, fuck!! Okay pink fluffy skirts-“
“DANCER!”
“Yes!!” You scream, and you both jump for joy. Everyone in the room cheers, and Gaz even notices Ghost crack a smile under his mask.
“Fuckin ‘Pas de Deux’ what kind of a clue is that” Soap grunts, knocking back another drink. You just roll your eyes, sighing loudly.
“It’s literally a dance move everyone knows. I could have said pirouette and you still wouldn’t catch on, I don’t see a difference.” The silent insult makes him chuckle, and Gaz’s smile widens.
“Lay offit ay? Not my fault nobody knows dance terms.”
“I actually knew that.” Gaz pipes up, and Ghost nods in agreement. “It is a pretty common dance move.”
You throw your hands in the air as if to say see fucker, I was right.
Soap just rolls his eyes.
“Didn’t know you danced,” Gaz said, lifting his drink to his lips. He tries to ignore the way your eyes follow the movement, or how it takes you a few seconds longer than usual to respond.
“Mhm. Did it with my sister for a while. Wasn’t very good, unfortunately.” Gaz nods, humming.
“When’d you quit?” He asks, pretending to swirl his drink around in the glass.
You eye him suspiciously, trying to blink through the haze the alcohol has made in your mind. “Few years back, round the same time I enlisted.”
Gaz nodded. It felt wrong, using you for information like this. But this had become more than just some challenge for him, it was genuine curiosity. Like there was a constant itch in the back of his mind that he couldn’t get to die down unless he got some answers.
Usually, Ghost was the tech person. He would be the one to hack cameras, snoop on people, be the physical stalker. The problem they all ran into, though, is that a lot of your life was online. You were the youngest of them all, younger than Gaz even, and while they gave you shit for it, it meant you were way more online than they were.
Because of that, they couldn’t rely on just your files to tell them everything. There was a world hidden somewhere in all your deleted accounts, messages encoded in emails and photos from after your graduation. Piecing them together was too big of a job for one man alone, especially men of their age.
So they didn’t do it alone.
It took your near death experience to make grown ass men to realize how fucking stupid they were being about this. Simon said it himself, the 141 didn’t operate by itself. It was a team. They were a team. They did things together, which meant they would get their answers together. It also meant they would get to share you at the same time, but that wasn’t a foreign concept to them.
And none of them really had an issue sharing with each other.
That night, after everyone else had turned in , Gaz got to work. He used the best lead of you he had (your beginning of the year photo for Junior year, taken just before everything disappeared) and worked his way down. He flew through all of your files, finding names, dates and addresses. Long ago he figured out that numbers were the most important thing in a task like this. Without them you could get nowhere. He followed paths he had taken dozens of times, different directions to get to the same conclusion. There wasn’t anything there. Just like you predicted, it all stopped at your junior year.
This time, though, that wasn’t what he was looking for.
Once he hit that wall again, He went back and retraced his steps. He included references to clubs in his search, finding every extra circular at your school and looking into their history. Nothing came up for a long, long time.
It was nearly sunrise before he found something. Normal people would have seen this and not batted an eye, but Gaz was too keen in his research to miss it.
In an article about your schools dance team, just a few months before graduation two names glared out on the screen at him. Your name, and someone else’s who rhymed quite well with yours. The gears spun in his head, and he laughed to himself in pure shock.
They were on a a wild goose chase for the wrong person.
It explained why he was physically unable to find anything on you, because he wasn’t even looking for you in the first damn place. He was tracking down your sister.
He took the two names and pasted them into his system, hitting enter on the keyboard.
Over three hundred search results came up, but only one caught his eye.
“Local College student gets killed in school shooting, family is left devastated.”
He might have to do a bit more digging than he thought.
Finding the photos was the easy part. Now that he knew who you were, they were everywhere. You really had gotten up to a lot behind their backs, you had at least tried out every club once and volunteered everywhere in your damn state. It was impressive that you managed to switch personalities so quickly, going from someone so loud and outgoing to… well, you. He knew hiding this much information wasn’t easy, having to go under an alias a few times to escape capture taught him that the hard way. But you did it with ease, as if you…
Oh.
Oh.
He had to tell Price.
AN: if you can spot the audio reference and tell me which audio it comes from, who made it and give me a time stamp i’ll post the next chapter early (as in; as soon as i see the ask/comment)
#cod x reader#poly 141 x reader#task force 141 x reader#poly 141#simon riley x reader#john price x reader#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost x reader
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Hey if you're comfortable with it, do you think you write about how 141 would react to finding out you're ticklish? Preferably nsfw. Maybe they just tease you with it or maybe they have a session with you after a while and enjoy how it drives you crazy. It could be poly141 or just a drabble with each members reaction.
I love your writing sm
I'm sorry this took a while anon, thank you so much for your request!! This is the first time I've written about tickling, so I hope it came out alright. I loved researching this lmfao it's so cute
Pairing(s): 141 x reader (separately, not poly or sharing this time sorry! :p)
Warnings: Bondage and restraint, tickling, tickling during sex
Wordcount: 1.2k
Summary: How each of the boys enjoy tickling you :p
AO3 Link: Right here! <3
Full drabbles under cut <3
Price loves your laugh; just the sound can get him hard. Maybe you should’ve seen it coming from the first date. It was the first thing he complimented you on in the small bakery – heart eyes over the brim of his coffee cup that had your cheeks red, already breathless at the story between a cheeky sounding sergeant and someone’s poor dog. He stores every terrible joke exchanged amongst his boys, bringing them home just to fill your ears with them, to get anything from that exasperated little giggle to a shocked cackle at some of Ghost’s darker ones – the first time he hears you belly laugh, he writes the beginning of his wedding vowels.
For him, there’s a privilege in being allowed to bring you to such a vulnerable state, dazed and breathless, whether it’s scrabbling against the material of his shirt as you’re bent over in hysterics, hiding behind your hands, gasping for air at the comedy he’s been nagging you to watch, or between his thighs against the mattress, straining with hiccupped shrieks and pleads at his weight as he tortures your overstimulated skin. The only thing he uses is his fingers, and he’s stubborn about it, possessive of the tactile connection between his fingertips against your skin. The furthest he goes is a plug in your pussy, with a command to try and keep it there at the threat of a good spanking (though you both know you’re going to fail).
He challenges himself to make you come with just tickling – he neglects your needy pussy, wet and fluttering with arousal, until the delicate dragging of his nails down the plush insides of your thigh has you spasming around nothing.
-
Gaz, poor Gaz. Gaz, with blood under his nails he just can’t scrub, who sees someone’s face with every punch he throws at the bag. He’s heard the way his peers talk all throughout his service – spank their ass, slap their face, tight grip to the throat, till they ache.
There was only one part that ever stuck with him – till they ache.
The only time he raises a hand against you is to watch you squeal in anticipation before it flies down to your stomach, skittering up and down the soft skin as you twist and writhe against the sheets. It’s everything he needs – he can make you cry, beg, scream, with the whisp of a few touches, the softest of caresses. Tracing the marks that scatter your skin, only love bites and the imprints of restraint. On some nights, Gaz loves tying you up and tickling you, watching you squirm and contort against his ropes in an attempt to escape. The knots dip into your flesh, keeping your arms straight and pointed to the metal hook that meets the rope stemming from your wrists, legs spread wide with the thick bar anchoring your feet flat to the ground. His fingers dance over every inch of skin bare to him, honing to the areas you try to pull away from, watching you sway this and that way in peals of laughter as he switches between sides on your ribs.
Unlike Price, he doesn’t care for games – he’ll give you what you want. A toy, his fingers, his cock. Slow and steady, letting the rope drop a little to bend you at the waist, rocking back and forward into him, clenching down those slick and warm walls in sync with each ragged laugh. He doesn’t mind wielding a tickle wand, dragging the feathers up and down your thighs, your armpits, behind your knees. It’s not over until your eyes are puffy, cheeks tear stained as you sag under your own weight, kept suspended by the rope as your knees shake.
-
Soap becomes aware of your ticklish nature very quickly, being such a tactile partner. He’s always touching you – whether it’s an arm around your waist, foot rubbing against your calf, pinkies linked together – and it isn’t long before he unintentionally makes you squeal, accidentally brushing up against one of your most sensitive areas. The noise makes him jump, worried he’s hurt you, but when he sees the red of your cheeks and the shy smile on your face? Oh, it’s over for you.
“Y’ticklish, bonnie?”
He’s all a-grin every time, hands raising menacingly with wiggling fingers.
For a while it stays non-sexual, but poor Johnny can’t help himself. The tickle fights start to linger way past what’s appropriate, making home in his mind – how you get so panicked and squirmy, trying to get away from his fingers, your breathless laugh and gasps as his name whines so desperately from your lips. Your squeals rings through his ears during overdue paperwork in his late nights, so clear that he swears your lips brush across the tips of his ears, and Price avoids looking at him too closely as he turns in the files before leaving.
Sly, smart Johnny starts off slow. When the mood is playful during sex, he purposely rubs his hair and beard up against your neck, your back, feeling you pulse erratically around him with each giggle. He introduces it in increments, a foot in the door as you warm to the idea. Things really get going when he confesses, head buried in the crook of your neck as he groans how the way you flutter around his cock with each giggle brings him so close, and you can't help but laugh at that too. Poor Johnny comes harder than he ever has, and you can't help but want to indulge the glassy, lovestruck expression on his handsome face.
Unlike Gaz, he’d never restrain you - Johnny loves fighting you to stay still, caging you in or dragging you back by the ankle into his reach.
-
For Ghost, he loves the chase and anticipation beforehand, and his favourite way of being a pest – catch him brushing against just the right spot to make you jump and squeal as his arms slip around you, or his chin nuzzles into your neck.
But it starts with a morning of productivity, taken with your own domestic chores in a quiet co-existence. He’s finished a spot-tidy, bringing some discarded rubbish and checking on you in the kitchen. You’re unsuspecting, caught up in your respective daily activities, fixated on the job in front of you – and something hits him. The way you bob along happily to the music in your head, scrubbing at the dishes with a sway in your hips, caught up in your own world. Your happiness is magnetic, beckoning him and basking him in the same warm rush of dopamine. A light bubbles up through his body, something that forces its way from the depths of his chest more often when you’re around, and his feet are moving towards the kitchen before he thinks twice.
“Hey love?”
You hum questioningly, putting elbow grease into a particularly stuck blemish from the morning’s dishes.
“Got somethin’ for you.”
You finally turn around, soapy hands in the air as droplets cascade from them. Simon gives you a second to stare quizzically, watching your expression morph into a pleading grin as his hands creep up from his sides, fingers curling over into a leering grab.
“No! I’m washing dishes, please!”
His grin widens, fingers wiggling threateningly. “Then dry your hands.”
Your hands fall to your shirt, squeezing the material as you ready yourself to bolt. He squares up, arms outstretched, but he doesn’t close them as you swoop by close enough, out the kitchen in a mad dash. Though the chase is superficial, it doesn’t stop the thrill that jolts him with each impending step, following you through to the loungeroom. The sofa keeps him at bay, circling each other in a practiced synchronisation around the furniture as you feint left and right, keeping him guessing which way you’ll take off.
You bluff right to distract him from your plan to run the other way, but Simon lunges left anyway. He’s faster than you can think, reading the tensing of your muscles, and unable to rectify your charade as you scramble, his arms clamp around you in a swooping grab.
And as you gasp and giggle underneath him, something stirs to life.
dividers by cafekitsune
#this was actually so fun to write i hope i did ur request justice anon#this did not awaken anything in me but i sure as hell will be reading tickling stuff instead of shrugging at it now#price x you#ghost x you#gaz x you#soap x you#john price x you#price x reader#gaz x reader#soap x reader#ghost x reader#john price x reader#simon riley x reader#kyle garrick x reader#john mctavish x reader#simon riley x you#john mctavish x you#kyle garrick x you#cod fanfic#call of duty fanfic#jams drabbles#jams asks#jams writings
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hii silly ask anon back with another silly ask😓 (before i continue tysm for answering the last one i enjoyed it sm!!🫶🏻) how would yan!zhongli, pantalone (help me i love them) and childe react to darling going absolutely feral with rage anytime they are near😭?
like they’ll get home and be like “i’m home pookie💗” and reader will scream their head off crying and throwing stuff at them
this is so long sorry but could i be 🐚 anon?
ofc you can! the more anons the merrier :D also this is such an interesting thought because there are so many different ways for the yandere to reaction in a situation like this and it's certainly not talked about enough with the diverse types so i hope you enjoy :D
Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including delusional behaviors, implied being held against will, force-feeding, mentions of being drugged, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!
Yandere!Zhongli would be well prepared, readying his shield before getting within arms reach of you. It really does come in handy for your more unruly days and he appreciates its usefulness. While he doesn’t want to see you enter the mindbroken or emotionally numb state, he’s worried that he might not have any other choice but to push you to that, lest you calm down otherwise.
“Fret not dear, it’s merely food. If you flip it over again I’m afraid I’ll have to go back to spoon feeding you.” Zhongli enters the room with a plated meal for you, setting it down at your feet. His shield was already activated, the faint glow from Geo illuminating the room as you glowered up at him. Your spot on the floor, chained down for your safety and his, was not ideal but for now it was practical. Mixed with the low lighting of the room and its generally chilly temperature, Zhongli hoped to create a strong feeling of isolation, one that would slowly drive you insane. If need be though, he had other options for breaking you, he just preferred this one. It was the most humane after all.
Yandere!Pantalone would only tolerate it for so long. He can replace all the furniture and decorations in his home with less easily broken replicas until you calm down. He can sleep in bed at night while you slept in a cage built into the walls of the closet. He could eat his meals alone while you starved in another room, too busy fretting about it being poisoned, that all he could tolerate. But the screaming was something else.
No one in Zapolyarny Palace heard your screams and wails, and those who did were ordered not to pay mind to it. It was a wasted effort that had Pantalone often sitting with his head in his hands, trying to find some sort of solution. He had run across a few temporary ones, a sleeping agent from Dottore for night time, sound proof walls in his office for business hours. But nothing could help him outside though hours, like at dinner time. You were kept in a separate room strictly for feeding due to the mess you often made, while Pantalone sat alone at the empty kitchen table. The home in general looked devoid of life outside the small inhabitant of Pantalone. This was because it was supposed to be your home, but you were often too busy throwing a hissy-fit to enjoy it and Pantalone was getting really sick of your behavior.
Yandere!Childe would take it as a challenge, playfully wrestling you to pin you down so he could feed you during the day. You could kick and scream and punch all you want, he’s taken worse and won’t stop until he’s physically unable to move. The screaming doesn’t bother him either, he just thinks you need more time to adjust is all.
Another day, another miserable feeding session. You were currently pinned underneath Childe, the ginger having pinned you to the floor with your hands held tightly to your chest as he slowly fed you bites of a sandwich. Any attempts to spit them out would be met with a pout, he had worked hard to make it for you ya know, and any attempts to not eat would be met with a quick pinch of your nose to force you to open your mouth. The worst part was possibly how normal Childe acted about the whole thing, chatting amicably to you about his day as he shoved bits of food down your throat. One time you had kept spitting food at him and in response he covered your mouth with his hand to prevent you from continuing the childish act. You had bit down as hard as you physically could on the male's palm just for him to not flinch and continue his silly little stories like nothing had happened. Being stuck with this guy was hopeless for you.
#genshin x reader#genshin x male reader#yandere genshin x reader#yandere genshin x male reader#zhongli x reader#zhongli x male reader#yandere zhongli x reader#yandere zhongli x male reader#pantalone x reader#pantalone x male reader#yandere pantalone x reader#yandere pantalone x male reader#childe x reader#childe x male reader#yandere childe x reader#yandere childe x male reader#yandere genshin#yandere zhongli#yandere pantalone
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Lucifer losing his temper is a terrifying yet interesting concept especially when Alastor is the main reason, because he's too prideful and a stubborn ass
But this is still The Devil, THE King of Hell, and you don't push your luck with someone that rules all of Hell
No Lucifer is going to make it clear and he doesn't allow his daughter to call him out when he grabs Al and slams him down on the fall, hot breath blowing smoke as his anger grows and spirals out of control
He's far gone, eyes blazed, horns enlarged, tail thrashing, face demented as he stares into the crimson eyes of a sinner that dared challenge HIM-
But those eyes, usually filled with fire, amusement, mockery, are dying...? Lucifer didn't realize how tight he was squeezing Alastor's throat, it's so tight that he'd cut off his ability to breathe, and not only that, his claws were digging into the soft flesh of his jugular that he was drawing blood
He comes back from his rage to feel Charlie trying to pull his arm away from Alastor as the deer's eyes roll into the back of his head, limp in Lucifer's grip, screaming at her father to let go
And he does
But Al is not breathing
Commotion arises and Lucifer just stands there, staring at the lifeless body. He raised his hand, nails tinged in red, red eyes wide and full of shock
He looks towards Alastor's prone body, Charlie trying to do compressions on his chest, Vaggie swearing in Spanish as she kneels by her girlfriend, Angel standing a few steps away holding Nifty who is screaming at Al to 'wake up' and Husker standing near the Arachnid, face unreadable
He didn't... He can't be...
A choked cough-
Alastor takes in a struggling breath, chest stuttering, flinching away from Charlie's touch
Charlie is crying in relief and Vaggie gently pulls her away to give Al some space as he wheezes
And then his eyes fly open, zipping from each and every person in the room, before zeroing on Lucifer, who is still in his demon form
Just as fast as his eyes caught every single living being in the foyer, he vanishes
Now look I'm a sucker for this so those who aren't fond of this part, DON'T READ, it's slightly out-of-character from here on:
Alastor does not make an appearance, for weeks
The first week didn't register as much with everyone, especially Lucifer, who's also not appeared in the halls of the hotel since that day, and as awkward as it was it didn't garner any property damage or loud arguments within the hotel
It was peaceful...?
When Lucifer did come out of his room, he'd expect to see Alastor in the kitchen. The sinner can be a fuckhead any time of the day but the kitchen is his sanctuary, his 'comfort 'home', Alastor lives in the kitchen during the wee hours of the night, always cooking up a storm, doesn't mean he shares it unless Charlie wanders in, he always cleans up after himself before the residence of the hotel can catch him in an apron
Lucifer is one of those rare culprits catching Alastor in the act, and he won't lie, he cannot resist the sinner's food when he 'stole' a piece of peach cobbler and beelined it out the door, tentacles chucking forks and knives
He will take his ass to the grave before he'll admit he craves more desserts from Al, but that's if he catches him cooking because Al started switching up his days to throw Lucifer off as much as possible because ofc the deer picked up on the fallen angel's aggressive sweet tooth that piece of-
Anyway
He didn't find Al in the kitchen, not even the aroma that would be left behind after he finished cooking was absent in the air
No big deal, Lucifer is the worst insomnia next to Al, he'll catch him during one of the late hours, especially when Lucifer can smell the delicious bouquet after becoming 'addicted' familiar with Al's sleeping habits
He doesn't smell anything within the kitchen for a whole week
Okay that's weird but still not a big deal right?
Then he sees Charlie pacing and rambling to her girlfriend and asks what's up and Charlie exclaims she hasn't seen or heard from Al in a month
It hardly bothered Lucifer and he tried to brush it off for Charlie, saying he'd turn up soon
Another month and a half passes
No sign of Alastor
Honestly, it should be a relief, but Lucifer can feel that nagging feeling of worry and he shouldn't feel anything for a sinner that treats him like garbage
A sinner that challenged him, belittled him, insulted him, why does Charlie even care so much!? Everything feels normal without that tacky asshole
Except, the kitchen feels empty somehow...?
The halls are quieter without the soft jazz playing when the demon would patrol the halls
Lucifer has no one to bicker with...
Fuck
#platonic appleradio#platonic radioapple#appleradio#radioapple#hazbin hotel#writing prompt#writer ideas#alastor hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar x oc
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𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗬 𝗠𝗢𝗔𝗡 !
˖˚˳⊹ how they moan headcanons feat. ayato : itto : albedo : xiao : childe : kaeya : kazuha : diluc : gorou feat. fem! reader
˖˚˳⊹ warnings: nsfw
deep, heavy grunts with ayato because he'll never get used to your cunt squeezing him dry and the way you unfold underneath him like a sinful masterpiece displayed only for his eyes to witness. Bending you even more, you're about to climax all over him, toes curling, orgasm about to hit you hard when ayato hits even harder into your cunt. He's not the loudest though so you won't hear any actual moans from him, it'll always be a deep grunt next to your ear shell while he pounds away all the stress he had this week, using you as his cocksleeve and you wouldn't want it any other way. <3
guttural groans with itto because he's always trying to fuck you harder each day. It's almost like a challenge to him, really. If you aren't leaking with his cum while chanting his name like a lost prayer, he certainly did something wrong in his eyes. He'd smile lazily at you, for a moment pulling out and then immediately sliding his hard cock inside your abused walls again. "so tight." he'll groan through gritted teeth, placing his thumb against your abused clit to rub it furiously. That cheeky bastard knows exactly on how to make scream his name.
heavy breathing with albedo because what he much rather wants to hear is you. For him, it's new to be engaged in sexual activities, hence why he'd try to relish in the feeling as much as possible, trying to explore every nook and cranny of your body to make sure he knows how to pleasure you properly. His hands guiding your hips up and down his length while your back arched violently, turning you into a gurgling mess in front of him. And once you want him to pick up on pace even more, his heavy breathing turns into the possibly most angelic moans you've ever been blessed with.
muffled sighs with xiao because for him, that's the only time where he can truly relax himself. Tracing his fingertips over your bare body and pinching your hardened nipples which will make you whine out so desperately to finally feel him sink his heavy cock inside of your greedy cunt. He'll sigh out followed by a breathy laugh and remark on how sensitive you are once he finally slides in, gushing out a muffled sigh while closing his eyes. You whine, crying out his name when his hand moved from your perked nipple to your sobby clit, rubbing circles around the bud while never slowing down on pace.
cut-off curses with childe because he doesn't know how else to verbalize on how you're making him feel good right now. His hands holding your face tight while you suck him off so fucking perfectly, he'll coo at you the softest things, stroking your cheeks to brush away the little tears that you got from choking on his cock while also pulling your loose hair behind your ear <3. And once you look up at him through lashes with your glassy eyes, fucked out facial expression in combination with your puffy lips struggling around his heavy cock. He'll throw his head back and push you down harder, moaning out halfway screaming while numerous curses spill over and over again.
low hums of praise with kaeya while he's fucking you from behind, ass high up in the air while you squirm underneath his weight, moaning every time he hits the sweet spot deep in your gut. His fingertips tracing the natural curves of your body and admiring the breathtaking view spread out in front of him, "you're fucking beautiful." he'll moan, placing his hand on top of your back to push you down harder. Most of the time he'll keep his moans under control, it was almost like a challenge to him to not give you the benefit of knowing you're fucking him as good as he fucked you. He hates the way your body can control him without much effort.
whiny whimpers with kazuha because he's not ashamed of telling you just how much he wants you close to him. It's not even telling at this point, it's straight up begging you to ride him harder. His hands are quick to grab the flesh of your behind, passionately kneading your skin while drawing out his pleas of ecstasy. Guiding your hips up and down his hard cock while arching his back whenever he feels you squeeze him dry. "wanna cum, please." he'll mewl, twist and turn but you reassure him that there's no reason to beg, you'll let him cum once he deserves it to fill you up.
needy chokes with diluc while he's sucking on your folds like a starved man, completely pussy drunk and unable to comprehend anything anymore besides on how fucking wet you got because of him. Your juices sticking on his cheeks and your thighs, already dried up but he doesn't give a damn anymore. It has been the third time he made you cum with his tongue in the past hour and he doesn't show any signs of stopping anytime soon. He knows you're most likely overstimulated by now but at this point diluc doesn't care - just one more time, he wants you to cum one more time against his abused lips. Completely loses his mind and moans uncontrollably when you tug his hair while he eats you out.
sweet little cries with gorou while he eats you out, your slick smearing his cheeks but he doesn't stop until he's got you unraveled in front of him. The control he had over his body long gone, not wasting any more time to hump against the bed like a horny teenager. The almost pornographic mess he's made in between your thighs almost won't compare to the mess he's made in his pants. And once he's close to making you reach your climax again, he won't slow his movements and cum untouched while crying out against your cunt on how much he loves you.
do not! share, copy or repost my work. ✎ ©ANANTARU 2022
#ayato x reader#genshin impact smut#genshin impact x reader#itto x reader#diluc x reader#kaeya x reader#kazuha x reader#gorou x reader#childe x reader#Xiao x reader#albedo x reader#ayato smut#itto smut#xiao smut#kauzuha smut#diluc smut#kaeya smut#gorou smut#Childe smut#albedo smut
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make him cry ♡ c.sc
♡ pairing: domestic!seungcheol and female!reader
♡ w.c.: 2.1k
♡ genre: smut
♡ this fics contains: sub!seungcheol, dom!reader, use of a vibrating cock ring, use of handcuffs, mentions of a ball gag, overstimulation, seungcheol crying from pleasure, pet names (good girl, sweetheart, baby), cum eating (only one small scene)
♡ synopsis: seungcheol had a bad day at work, and his one request was for you to make him forget about it. challenge accepted.
♡ a/n: enjoy some submissive seungcheol <3 ty to @sluttywonwoo for proof reading mwah feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
You stare numbly at the television, hoping that the monotonous show you had unconsciously decided to switch on would provide even a crumb of serotonin. After the day you had had at work, you truly just wanted to put your feet up and watch television until you fell asleep on your couch.
Seungcheol wasn't home yet, which only made you feel slightly more deflated, as he was your go-to for emotional and physical support. Just the thought of him and his pouty lips sent butterflies erupting throughout your chest and stomach, and a smile spreading across your tired lips.
You couldn't help but let your mind wander to a couple of nights ago when he had you pinned to your bed, his cock slamming into you with every thrust as he let out his frustrations from his day at work.
“Such a good whore for me, taking my cock like a good girl.” His breathy sighs are coupled with his thighs slapping against your own, and mixing with your own whines and moans, it creates a cacophony of sound that would otherwise sound horrible but at the moment is like a beautiful symphony that sends you spiralling into your orgasm quicker than ever.
The door to your apartment creaking open is what draws you out of your thoughts, and your head whips around to observe an equally exhausted Seungcheol trudging through the doorway, his feet dragging along the carpet with an unpleasant scraping noise. You cringe at the noise and make a mental note to call him out on it later, but when he finally emerges into the room, you stow that thought away and immediately pull the blanket away from your body so he has room to slide in underneath.
He doesn't attempt a conversation just yet but fully accepts your warmth under the fuzzy blanket and snuggles right into your side, a content sigh leaving his lips. Your hand reaches up and courses through his dark, fluffy hair, only recently having been permed again. You had to admit, you loved when his hair was permed.
“How was work today, baby?”
He grunts and turns to face you, a pout and slight frown becoming prominent on his features. Your simple question had him reliving the dragging day, getting screamed at for things out of his control, and unreachable deadlines needing to be met.
You can see the gears in his head turning, and it’s visibly stressing him out even more as he thinks about it. An idea sparks in your mind, and a mischievous grin pulls across your lips as you try to work out how to bring up your idea, which you'll label as “stress relief” to him.
“Work was shit. I don’t even want to go back tomorrow.”
“Well, what if I take your mind off it right now?” Your question makes him raise his head and stare at you quizzically, the gears in his head now turning for a completely different reason. His eyes urge you to continue, gleaming under the lights like there are twinkling stars encapsulated within his irises. He looks so cute when all his attention is directly on you.
“Let’s go to the bedroom.”
Seungcheol immediately throws the blanket off of you both and is quick to follow you to the bedroom only a couple of feet away like a lost puppy. You can hear his socked feet thumping lightly against the linoleum flooring, and it makes your heart skip a beat at the fact that this man would follow you to the ends of the earth.
Upon entering the bedroom, you wait for him to enter behind you and then close the door. He watches you bounce towards your walk-in wardrobe and walk out again seconds later with a bright pink box in your hands and an evil grin on your features. He can feel his pulse quicken as you set the box on the bed and turn to face him.
“Take off your clothes and get on the bed.”
Your sudden dominant aura has him choking and spluttering out, only receiving an eyebrow raise from you. He suddenly feels small as he removes his shirt, your eyes burning into him and drinking in every inch of exposed skin. Now he knows how you feel when he gives you the exact instructions.
Seungcheol quickly removes his sweats and boxers, leaving him bare in front of you with a half-erect cock. He can feel his face begin to burn and he has the sudden urge to cover himself up, but he knows you’ll just scold him. You continue to stare at him until he remembers what you said and he crawls onto the bed, sitting directly in the middle and waiting for your next instruction.
You stare at him with a grin on your features, and you can see his cock twitch in anticipation. After a quick glance into the box and rummaging through the various items in it, you finally pull out what you were looking for, and simultaneously make Seungcheol gasp at the sight of it.
“You know what this is, don’t you, baby?”
He nods meekly and spreads his legs out so that you can get between them to attach the object. The black rubber fits snugly over his now fully erect shaft and settles nicely at the base, a small whimper escaping Seungcheol’s lips at the tightness of the cock ring encapsulating his cock.
You hadn’t even turned it on yet and you could see Seungcheol’s cock beginning to leak precum, and his breaths have grown slightly shallower. He’s getting so worked up already and you haven't even started. Cute.
“Baby, tell me what you would like me to do.”
He glances up at you, doe eyes and pouty lips more present than ever. You can see how flushed his cheeks are, how his curly hair is beginning to stick to his forehead in strands, and how his beautiful skin looks like it glows under the light of the lamp. Your eyes travel further down and observe his toned body looking like it had been carved by gods. By now his cock is angry and red, the tip leaking precum.
“I-I wanna feel good…”
“I know that sweetheart, but what do you want me to do to make you feel good?”
Seungcheol can’t even maintain eye contact with you, his eyes avoiding yours at all costs and instead choosing to remain trained on the pink box with mysterious items inside. Who knows what was in there, he hadn’t even really seen it before, and he wondered how long you’d actually had it for.
“Baby?”
“Oh…sorry…I-I wanna be overstimulated… don’t want to remember my horrible work day…” his voice goes soft as he finishes his sentence, his fingers intertwining with themselves to keep himself occupied. All you can do is smile softly and pull a couple more items out of the box and place them on your vanity out of harm's way.
“I’ll make sure the only thing you remember is my name, sweetheart.”
He gulps at the sentence and feels his cock twitch once again at the pet name. He isn’t normally one for pet names, but with the state he was in it didn’t even register in his mind. His mind had basically turned to static, but even more so when you quickly flick the switch on a small remote, bringing the cock ring to life.
At first, the vibrations are low and only small pulses, not quite enough to cum but definitely enough to get him riled up. You can see the way his stomach tenses and his lips drop into an ‘O’ shape as the pulses begin to course through his shaft, and slowly the sensations spread to his entire body.
“Feel good baby?”
“...mhm…y-yeah feels s’good…” his soft whimpers had your own arousal flooding your underwear and you feel your body warming up while you see him squirming. You knew he could handle more vibrations, and with a smirk you change the dial on the remote again, bumping it up to the third highest setting.
“O-oh fuck!” Seungcheol’s body crumples at the intensity of the vibrations, and his body falls flat against the mattress, hands fisting the sheets and his legs spreading widely. You know he won’t last very long, so you decide to bump up the settings once more to the highest vibrational setting.
At this point, you can hear him gasping and hiccuping. Tears are beginning to stream down his face from the sheer amount of pleasure his body is facing. The lower half of his body is struggling, his hips bucking up and thrusting into nothing and his fingers just about ripping the sheets.
With the way his body is twitching and his abs are contracting, you know he’s close to his orgasm but you also know he will try to stave it off for as long as possible. His cock is leaking precum in a continual stream, and you know of one thing that will make him cum immediately.
“Cheollie, are you gonna cum for me?” Your voice has dropped an octave and he peeks at you through his tear-covered lashes, thrusting up into the air once, twice more before he’s letting out a loud sob and cum is shooting from his tip. You watch in awe as the cock ring milks him for everything he’s got, his cum coating his stomach and thighs while your name rolls off his tongue like a mantra.
You bring the vibrations down to the lowest setting for a while, letting him recover in his post-orgasmic haze. A grin covers your lips when you see him twitch and his death grip on your sheets loosens slightly.
“God…felt so, so good,”
You grin and lean over to peck his nose, and teasingly run your hand over his stomach. He watches you eagerly as you scoop up some of his cum off his skin and swipe it onto your tongue, swallowing the salty substance eagerly. Although it was such a small and simple gesture, he can’t help but feel his cock twitch and begin to grow hard again.
“Glad you felt good baby, say, how do you feel about another round?”
He glances at you curiously, eyebrow raised underneath his sweaty bangs. You chuckle and move to your vanity, pulling up the items you had pulled out of the box before. Seungcheol’s eyes grow wide at the sight of the handcuffs, nipple clamps, and a ball gag. The gears are turning in his head again, you can tell, and you’re not quite sure how he feels about the toys.
“I don't want to use the ball gag.”
“Okay, well don’t be a brat then and we won’t need to use it.”
Seungcheol’s eyes widen again when you place the ball gag to the side and immediately lock his wrists into the handcuffs, making sure they are placed around one of the poles on your headboard for security. You also take care to place a pillow underneath his arms to make sure he’s comfortable.
You take one look at him and feel your body grow hot again; he has dried tear tracks on his face, cum drying on his thighs and stomach and his cock is angry and red once again from your dominant actions. Everything in his body is going into overdrive, and it doesn’t help when you begin to strip off your own clothing, taking your sweet time doing so.
“I’ll never get tired of seeing your body, fuck you look so good.” Seungcheol groans when you have stripped bare and are standing naked in front of him, your body in its full glory and all for him to enjoy. The only thing he doesn’t like at this exact moment is that he can’t feel your supple flesh under his fingertips, mapping out your skin with his fingers.
You smirk and get yourself settled between his thighs, turning the cock ring back on when you get comfortable. He whimpers at the feeling, the overstimulation seeping into his system once again but not complaining, especially when you shuffle over his thighs and move your body over his own, hovering over his cock.
His heart rate quickens when he feels the warmth of your body, and he just knows that you’re going to milk him for everything he’s got, especially with the smirk that’s plastered on your features as you bump up the vibrations on the cock ring one notch and repeat what you had told him earlier.
“I’m going to make sure you only remember my name, sweetheart.”
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#sluttyhao fics#sluttyhao smut#kpop smut#seventeen smut#seungcheol smut#scoups smut#svt x fem reader#svthub
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Fluffcember Day 6 | Apology accepted
Pairing | Husband!Ari Levinson x Wife!Fem!Reader
Word count | 2.4K
Summary | You and Ari have a big fight, and it doesn't go how Ari thinks when you storm out of the house. Spending time apart has always been difficult for the both of you since you've constantly been conjoined at the hip. The time apart gives you both time to think, and when you come back, Ari is more than ready to apologize the best way he knows how.
Warning(s) | Established relationship ~ husband & wife, use of a pet name ~ Princess
Angst | Swearing, mentions of a big fight, mention of a past abusive relationship, Ari is an absolute ass in the beginning of the story
Smut |unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), oral ~ F & M receiving, squirting, 69, dirty talk, size kink, belly bulge
A/n | This one-shot is written for day 6 of my Fluffcember 2023 Challenge. Thank you to @ccbsrmsf1 for proofreading this one, it is deeply appreciated as always! I apologize that this and the last one were later than planned, but starting from tomorrow’s fic (day 7) everything will be going back to its regular schedule 🎄
Events
Masterlist | ''Don't smile at me like this'' | @buckys-wintersoldier
Masterlist | Squirting | @anyfandomkinkbingo
Masterlist | 69 | @ultimatechrisbingo
Banners: @vase-of-lilies | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: Owner
Main Masterlist | Ari Levinson Masterlist
It is rare for you and Ari to fight, let alone to have one as big as this one. You don't remember how it started, but you know it has evolved into a screaming match on both sides.
''You are such a bitch sometimes, you know that?!'' Ari spits out, and as soon as the words slip out of his mouth, he instantly regrets his choice of words. Where he was beyond angry not even a moment ago, he is suddenly all too aware of everything going on, and the tears spilling over your waterline are not being missed by him.
But that's not what breaks Ari. What does end up being the last straw for him right now is that when he flings his arms up in anger - without the intention of hurting you, he could never do that - you flinch and step back with your arms wrapped around yourself.
You've been hurt too many times to count in your past relationship because your ex-husband has been both emotionally and physically abusive towards you, which has left you extremely traumatized.
It has taken years of therapy to return to your old self, and when you met Ari, your future seemed much brighter again. The day you told him what had happened to you, he swore never to lay a hand on you, and he has never broken that promise, but that doesn't mean you didn't get scared by his unintentional movement.
You're sobbing loudly as you retreat up the stairs and away from your husband, your vision blurry as you slap a hand over your mouth to stifle the sobs, but it's not working.
''Fuck!'' Ari yells as he throws the photo on the floor that he is holding, shattering it into a thousand little pieces. It was the photo your fight was about, and he knows he should have thrown it out long ago, but he couldn't get himself to do it.
And look where it got him right now: his wife crying and afraid of him and packing her stuff to get out of the house, away from him. No matter what he says or does, it won't matter because he knows he can't change your mind.
It's not for lack of trying, though.
''Princess, can we please talk about it? I'm sorry-'' is all he can say, but your mind is made up. You packed enough clothing and toiletries for a week and brought some valuables that you can't go without.
Your wedding ring, however, is left on the little trinket dish in the bathroom, and it's the first thing Ari notices.
''Fuck you, Ari Levinson,'' is the last thing you tell him before wiping your eyes and leaving your keys by the door, right before slamming the door behind you. How you would get back into the house would be a worry for another moment; right now, you need to get out of the house and away from him before either of you do something they regret.
You order an Uber, and within a few minutes, it's there, and you get in without looking back, ready to go to a nearby hotel to stay there for a few days.
Ari was looking through the big window next to your front door the entire time until you were entirely out of sight, and that's when he collapsed.
His hands are threaded into his hair as he sinks to his knees, screaming to let all his frustrations out. The tears roll in steady streams over his cheeks as he's petrified you will have left him for good.
But you could never get yourself to the point of leaving him forever. You need some time apart to think about what happened, but in the end, you will always come back to him and talk about what happened. But right now, you both need your own space.
''I'm such a fuck-up...'' Ari whispers to nothing as he wipes the tears from his cheeks, letting a few sniffles escape before pulling himself together and going upstairs to see what you've taken - and left behind.
He walks into the bathroom and finds your wedding ring there, which he had already noticed was missing when you walked out the door. Next up is the closet, and he sees that some of your favorite clothes and his hoodie are missing.
The photo of you two hanging on the bedroom wall is also missing, and you brought your electronic devices for work, but the rest are still there, just like they were that morning.
The most valuable thing he is missing now is you.
The first three or four days were, apart from lonely, relatively okay. But there's only so much work you both can distract yourself with and because of that, you decide that on the fourth evening of your departure, you'll send Ari a text message to talk.
My Princess 👑 >> Can we talk tomorrow over lunch? The hotel has a restaurant where we can sit and discuss what happened.
You have to fight the urge to text him how much you miss him, and instead, you keep the message neutral to calm your excitement.
My Prince 👑 >> Of course, Princess. I can be there at 1:30 PM. Let me know if you want me to bring anything, and I will. I love you.
He is making it incredibly hard not to run back to him and forgive him instantly, but you're surprising yourself with the amount of willpower you are showing.
You text him that 1:30 is okay and which hotel you're staying at, and with that, you're officially feeling better, not about what happened, but about the fact that you two can talk it out like adults.
The next day arrived faster than you thought, and it's currently 1 PM, so you still have about 30 minutes before you meet Ari in the hotel restaurant.
To be sure, you opted for a shower first. You may be talking about your fight, but that doesn't mean you can't look decent for your husband. You're opting to wear a casual outfit instead of Ari's hoodie, which is what you've been wearing for the past few days.
A few minutes before you're supposed to meet him, you make your way down to the hotel, and much to your surprise, he's already waiting by the time you arrive.
He gets up from the table he was sitting at, and you see the denim shirt that spans over his shirt and shoulders, making every muscle look even bigger than it already is.
Despite your height in your platform boots, he's still quite a lot taller than you are, and when he greets you, he has to lean down pretty far to reach your cheek, where he places a soft, loving kiss.
''Hi Princess, thank you for meeting me,'' he says, and you can't help but giggle at how his beard tickles your cheek, and a flush spreads across your cheeks.
''It's the least I could do after the way I stormed out of the house,'' you say as you sit down across from him, and he nods in response, not wanting to ruin the moment.
''I'm sorry for storming out of the house the way I did-'' you start the conversation, ''- It was immature of me, and I'm so sorry, Ari. I know I hurt you with that, and it has never been my intention to do that, but my fight or flight response kicked in...'' you say as your voice trails off.
''No need to explain, Princess, you did what was best for you in the situation, and I understand why you did it. I should be the one saying sorry in this case because I shouldn't have yelled at you the way I did.''
''All you did was ask a normal question about a photo, and I went off without a reason to do so, and I am so sorry for that, Princess. I have been hurting so much knowing what I did to you, and I want you to know that I love you so much, and if you let me, I want to show you just how much,'' he asks, his voice getting slightly deeper near the end.
You can already feel the arousal pool in your panties, and without needing to say a word, you're getting up, and Ari is immediately following you up to your hotel room.
You two barely make it into the elevator because once the doors close, Ari picks you up, and your legs are wrapped around his waist. The kiss you two share is passionate and hurried, unable to get to your hotel room quickly enough.
A clash of tongue and teeth follows, and once the doors open when you're on your floor, you guide Ari to your hotel room, which is close to the elevator.
''Here,'' you say as you hand him the keycard, and without a problem, he unlocks and swings open the door, kicking it shut behind him before pushing you against a wall.
''Missed you so fucking much, Princess, couldn't even fucking cum without you being there. It was so fucking hard every day, but without you, I couldn't do it. Need you so much, Princess,'' Ari tells you between kisses on your neck and jaw, all while you're opening the buttons on his shirt, needing him just as badly.
''Ari, please! Need you to fucking wreck me!'' you beg him, and he isn't one to deny you when you're begging for him to ruin you.
It doesn't take long for you both to be completely naked, and he's already lining up with your entrance. His red, leaking tip is swiped through your folds with his large hand and long fingers wrapped around it, and you're already whining impatiently.
''Fuck, so needy for me already, aren't you?'' he asks, and when he finally starts sliding in, he hisses at how tight you are around him, even after all the years you've been together.
''Jesus, fuck! Such a tight pussy for me, feels so good around my big cock, always such a perfect, tiny pussy for me to fuck,'' he groans as he slides in, and you moan uncontrollably at a stretch, and you can never get enough of it.
The size difference between you and Ari is perfect in every single way, and his size kink is most definitely satisfied each time he slides home, though he can never stop himself from commenting on it.
''Look at you, Princess, look how much I'm filling you up already. 'm not even in, and I can already see myself in your belly,'' he tells you, and he throws his head back when he slides in completely, your back arching into him when he does.
Your moans are uncontrollable at this point, making Ari only harder inside you. He bends forward, bracing himself on his elbows beside your shoulders, before slowly rolling his hips, and the smirk on his lips is almost devilish.
''D-don't smile at me like this,'' you tell him, or you try to at least, because when you're nearing the end of the sentence, he angles his hips in such a way that has your eyes rolling into your head.
''What're you talking about, Princess? 'm just making love to my wife,'' he says, and he captures your lips in a deep, passionate kiss that is enough to push you over the edge, especially with the way he thrusts into your sweet spot.
''Ari, 'm cumming!'' is all the warning you can give before you cum, and you squirt all over the bed and your husband as you push him out with the force of your orgasm.
''Fucking hell, Princess, look at you! Fucking squirted all over me, you know how fucking good that makes me feel, don't you?'' he asks, but your brain is already turned to mush after just one orgasm.
''I need a taste of this delicious pussy now, Princess, and you get to sit on my face just the way you like, he whispers in your ear right before nibbling on your earlobe, earning himself a soft whine.
He's lying on his back, and you're too far gone even to comprehend what's happening; you're seated on his face, but you can't keep yourself up, so you fall forward as he's already licking his way through your folds.
You're eye to eye with his cock, and you reach out to touch it, giving it a few strokes before taking the tip into your mouth and suckling softly. When you do this, he lets out a groan that goes right through your body, and you're already on the edge of another orgasm again.
He keeps eating you out like a man who's been starving for a long time, and when you trace the large vein on his cock with your tongue, you feel him twitching in your hold, making you smile.
Once Ari dips his tongue into your entrance to get to the source of your sweet juices, you moan loudly, but your second undoing comes when he attaches his thumb to your clit, rubbing tight circles that have you trembling in his hold.
The moans and whines leaving your lips are absolutely without any control behind it at this point, as you're completely and utterly fucked out, but all you need now is for Ari to cum. That's all you can focus on right now, and that doesn't take long.
''Feels so good inside that throat of yours, Princes, gonna fucking cum for you, and you better swallow it all,'' he says through gritted teeth as he fucks up into your throat, your hand stroking the part you can't get into your mouth.
Before you know it, he's shooting his ropes of cum into your throat and mouth, but he can't seem to stop cumming, and a few spurts of cum end up on your face as well, making you look thoroughly and utterly fucked out.
C'mere Princess,'' he says as you look back at him, and he pulls you onto his chest before licking his cum off his face, right before giving you a deep kiss to feed it all back to you.
''Good girl,'' he tells you, and with those words, you fall asleep on your husband's chest, getting some much-needed rest. You would continue your conversation when you wake up, but right now, you need to be in his arms, where everything will be okay.
#fluffcember 2023#ultimatechrisbingo#afgkinkbingo#ari levinson#ari levinson one shot#ari levinson imagine#ari levinson fanfiction#ari levinson fanfic#ari levinson x female reader#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson fluff#ari#ari one shot#ari imagine#ari fanfiction#ari fanfic#ari x female reader#ari x reader#ari fluff
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