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drabblesandimagines · 2 days

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Nettle Soup

Halsin x female reader 5,776 words of fluffy nonsense

It had started as an innocent tickle at the very back of your throat, something you’d barely given more than a moment’s thought to - fair enough due to the fact you had a tadpole squirming around in your skull to contend with. A day or so later, it had graduated from a tickle to an annoying and stubborn irritation which very much demanded attention – wouldn’t shift despite how many times you’d tried.

It would clear, surely, you thought, especially since the curse had lifted from the land and you were on your way towards Baldur’s Gate at last.

Except it didn’t.

If anything, it got worse - like you’d swallowed handfuls of crushed glass, the way it stung with every swallow – accompanied by heavy limbs and growing fatigue, no matter how much sleep you managed. Perhaps that was hardly surprising after the number of fights you’d undertaken recently, not quite as young as you once were.

Although not comfortable with the hitchhiker in your skull, you were at least confident it wasn’t the first sign of ceremorphosis, though the concern that Lae’zel may try to slit your throat if you voiced any notion of feeling unwell remained, so you kept silent.

You powered on, as you always do.

Gale frowned when you didn’t finish your portion of stew that evening, all sat around the campfire. He prided himself on keeping the party well-fed and anything but clean bowls appeared to be a personal affront to his skill. It wasn’t that you felt nauseous, just a lack of appetite made the quarter you had managed sit too heavy in your stomach.

“Was it not to your liking?” The wizard hovers over your shoulder. “While I’ll admit it is a repeated recipe from a few days ago, you enjoyed it well enough then.”

“No, no, it’s wonderful, Gale.” You smile, trying to appease his anxieties by laying a hand on your stomach. “It’s just filling – I’m stuffed already.”

“I recall you had second helpings.”

Oh, he had you there. Think.

“We had just fought Ketheric Thorn too, quite difference from the day’s leisurely pace.”

“Hm.” His pout remains, and the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach has been joined by guilt.

“Hardly a repeated recipe, though. I’m sure I noted something different on the palate?”

That did the trick, a wistful smile now gracing his face. “Ah, yes, I did stumble upon some splendid wild garlic that I thought would enhance the flavour profile – how kind of you to notice.”

You nod along, politely, as Gale tells his tale – something about how it elevates the spices - not noticing the wood elf staring at you curiously from across the circle.

You’re thankful it’s not your turn to keep watch as the githyanki takes her place in the centre of the camp, sword laying ready in her lap. You don’t wish to dawdle around the campfire like you do most nights, worried she might sense something off about you and jump to conclusions, so you bid the remaining members of the party goodnight and walk at a brisk pace to the safety of your tent…

..only for an icy cold grip around your elbow to jerk you into their own, your back now pressed against a firm chest with a thud.

“Surprised, darling?” Astarion murmurs into your crown, his other arm wrapped around your waist. “I thought you better than that. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

“Bed.” You reply as brightly as possible, overcompensating for how rotten you’re now feeling.

“Oh, but the evening is still so young! I have a fine idea that will while away the hours, if you would be so very kind.” He drops his grip on your elbow and ghosts his hand up your side, making you squirm.

“Not tonight, Astarion.” You shake your head. Maybe it had been a mistake to let him feed off you after that first night. “I’m tired.”

“I can wait until you’re asleep, my sweet.” His hand finally reaches the back of your neck, giving it a slight squeeze. “I’ll be sure not to disturb any of your pretty dreams.”

“No.” Your tone is firm, maybe a little too firm as the vampire stiffens against you and drops his hand, causing your stomach to squirm with guilt once again. “Another night, I’m all yours – I promise.”

Astarion spins you around and you nearly lose your footing – a fact not missed by the vampire as his face transforms from annoyance at your denial to mild concern.

“My, you are out of sorts.” He sighs, before he plasters on a smile that you know to be fake. “Very well, darling. Off to bed you pop.”

You nod a thanks and hurry out of his tent, casting your eyes to the ground in the hopes of keeping steadier footing, only to collide into something firm.

A large, solid chest, covered in familiar druidic garb.

“My sincere apologies,” two warm hands grasp your upper arms, steadying you once again. “I am afraid I did not see you there. Are you all right?”

Your scalp tingles from the gravelly tones of Halsin’s voice, a warmth flushing over your cheeks as you look up at the former archdruid, his brow furrowed in concern.

“I’m fine, Halsin. And I should be the one apologizing - I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?”

He chuckles at your concern. “Of course. Although you have remained polite by not yet mentioning my stature, I am sure you have noticed the comparison between us, little one.”

Although one to lose your temper with the use of such pet names in inns or in combat, there is something entirely different when Halsin says it. You know it is not meant to be patronizing, more a sign of his age, really – it’s wholeheartedly sincere, affectionate, perhaps even… loving? Well, you could still dream, couldn’t you? Even though he’d kindly turned you down at the celebration for the tieflings at camp all those weeks ago, you’d be a liar if you didn’t still kindle a flame of affection for the large elf. You smile, wryly. “I suppose I have.”

“Forgive me for prying, but is anything the matter? You seemed in quite the hurry after supper. I confess I’d hoped to catch you for a moment.”

Your throat stings again as you swallow. Halsin is a healer - he would be the one to mention it to…

But you don’t want to be a bother, especially so soon after Thaniel. What was a sore throat in comparison to being trapped within the Shadowrealm for near on a century? Pathetic, really.

You shrug it off, “A little tired, nothing an early night won’t sort. What did you wish to speak about?”

He smiles at your response, though you notice it doesn’t reach his eyes. You wish you weren’t so observant of him to be able to identify which are real and which are polite.

“Ah, no, nothing of urgency. Please, do not let me keep you from your well-deserved rest any longer.”

You eye your tent in the distance, but hesitate all the same. “Are you sure?”

“Quite.” He squeezes your upper arms, gently, before letting go. “I bid you sweet dreams and a peaceful sleep.”

You don’t even fall asleep deeply enough to dream – tossing and turning for hours, one moment feeling too hot and then another too cold, periodically drinking from your waterskin trying to ease the rawness of your throat.

You give up at dawn, quickly dressing in your armor. Instead of waiting for your companions to rise, you set your sight on climbing the hill not far off from camp - it should provide a good vista of the road ahead to Baldur’s Gate. It shouldn’t be a long walk either, you’ll be there and back before even Karlach has roused, usually the last to do so.

You had only made it a quarter of the way up the admittedly gentle incline when you start to feel unusually winded from the exercise – it feels as if you are not quite breathing deep enough, oxygen stagnating at the top of your lungs. Perhaps you’d laced your armour too tight that morning in your haste to get moving? The sun is still only a little over the horizon, given the earliness of the hour, but you feel so very warm, a sheen of sweat already on your brow.

You raise a weary hand to wipe it away, but your vision swims in response and you stumble, all reflexes abandoning you and your face meets the dirt.

Halsin lets out a sigh as he rubs his back against the bark in his bear form, the ridges appeasing an itch that had been bothering him since he had wildshaped. It has been a while since he’d indulged the bear for purely pleasure and not combat – it hadn’t felt right to do so when traveling through the shadow cursed lands.

He’d woken early, as usual, and decided to take advantage of an hour or so to patrol the area before the plan would be to head towards Baldur’s Gate. Heading to the city wasn’t something he was looking forward to – to be cut off from the nature he so adored made he feel uneasy - but he’d made a vow that he intended to keep.

A familiar, invigorating smell crosses his snout, carried in the gentle breeze. He inhales it deeply, being drawn him from his thoughts.

White violet, jasmine, a touch of sandalwood…

You.

It is too strong a scent to have drifted in from camp, which must mean you’re close by. He drops down to all four paws and begins to follow the trail, curious as to what has brought you out so early and, perhaps selfishly, hoping to take advantage of your company.

He doesn’t have to travel far, though, lumbering a hundred or so metres out of the wood that lines the path. His stomach sinks when he sees you sprawled out on your front down the incline, unmoving, eyes open in a blank stare in his direction.

The next thing you were aware of was thundering paws on the earth, a flash of gold and then warm, heavy palms turning you over to face the dawn sky. A very concerned wood elf soon fills your vision, pressing a hand to your cheek as his eyes scan you over, frantically.

“What is it, my heart? Speak to me.” Heart…? The world goes black.

You wake up slowly. Your eyelids feel heavy, drifting in and out of consciousness until, finally, you manage to crack both eyes open to find yourself swaddled in unfamiliar furs and blinking up at an equally unfamiliar ceiling.

No, not ceiling, but the inside of a tent and one that is not your own. Various herbs and flowers are hung from the support pole across the top, seemingly set out to dry, dotted between other hand-made trinkets. There’s a scent of wood smoke, flowers, freshly cut grass, and something enticingly sweet...

You sit up in alarm, trying to work out where you are, panic rising in your already tight chest when your eyes meet those of the large wood elf’s, sat only a little way to the side of the bed roll.

“Ah-ah,” Halsin chides with a sympathetic smile, pushing you back down easily with one large palm upon your shoulder. “Please - you must rest.”

“This isn’t my tent.” Your voice is painfully hoarse, but you lay your head back on the pillow in defeat and watch as he tugs the furs back up to under your chin - the brief moment you had been upright a chill had prickled across your skin, almost down to your very bones.

“That is true.” The former archdruid nods, looking a little bashful. “We were camped at quite opposite ends this time round.” Your party did tend to spread the tents out across the ground you used, rather than all cluster together. “I thought it best to bring you here, where I have everything to hand to easily prepare, rather than go to and fro whilst I oversee your recovery.”

“Recov-” You don’t reach the end of the word as a horrendous, wracking cough emerges deep within your chest. You sit up again in panic, hoping it will cease. Halsin assists you with one hand on your arm and an arm around your waist, before he begins to rub large circles on your upper back.

“Easy, little one. Easy. I know it is uncomfortable, but it will pass.” He says, softly. It doesn’t feel like it will – the pain is sharp, a tightness in your chest, a burn in your lungs, heart pounding as you feel more and more breathless with every cough.

Tears burn at your eyes but, true to his word, slowly but surely, it begins to settle, allowing you to catch your breath at last and left feeling exhausted.

The hand leaves your arm then but one remains on your back, keeping you steady, before a waterskin is brought up to your lips. “Take small sips. If you drink too quickly, it might trigger another fit.”

You nod, reaching up a hand to hold over his as he tips the liquid into your mouth. It’s soothing on your raw throat, but only for a brief moment. When he deems you’ve had enough, he pulls the waterskin away, placing it back down to the side of the bedroll before pressing a hand to your forehead, a poorly concealed frown soon gracing his lips.

“You have a fairly high fever.”

“Can’t you…?” You reach out to mimic cure wounds – a spell you’ve seen him and Shadowheart cast many a time - but it seems even your depth perception has abandoned you as you brush up against the wood elf's firm chest, before snatching your hand back and circling your wrist in what you think looks a somewhat magical motion. Halsin lets out a chuckle that makes you feel flush – your temperature varying sporadically by the minute.

“Wounds and other injuries indeed, as can Shadowheart, but I am afraid for such illnesses as this the only treatment is rest for a few days, supplemented by herbal remedies to alleviate symptoms.”

“No,” you shake your head and immediately regret how it makes your vision and head swim. “We must press on - the Absolute are already in the city.”

He looks at you in alarm. “You cannot mean you wish to go and face them? You know I admire your unwavering resolve and strength to do what is right, but at the moment I fear a light breeze would be more than enough to knock you prone.”

“But-”

“No. I cannot allow it.” His tone is firm, a growl at the back of his throat – it reminds you of how he had spoken to Kagha once he’d returned to the grove. "You will rest. Lie down,” he doesn’t even need to push you back this time with a heavy hand, you’ve gone quite limp against the arm that had been supporting you, shrinking back at his tone of voice and nestle back down amongst the furs.

“Thank you.” Halsin replies, sincerely, the tension dropping both from his shoulders and voice. “I… I apologise for my manner of speaking, but I know of what I speak - you must rest in order to make a full recovery.”

“I’ll try – I promise.”

He looks down at you with a smile before brushing some loose hair from your face and then cupping your cheek with a large palm and calloused fingers. If you’d had more of your wits about you, if you could think clearly, you would’ve noticed the flash of gold in his palm as he cast sleep upon you.

You wake up to a hand pressing a damp cold compress against your forehead and your chest feeling tighter than before. You can’t help the wince as you open your eyes, the light smarting despite it being somewhat dim inside the tent. Halsin is sat cross-legged by your side, a frown in place.

“I am sorry to have woken you, but I am afraid your fever has developed.”

“Oh.”

“I have prepared something that will help. Allow me to sit you up.” Somehow, he manages to slip his arm beneath your head and around your shoulders, assisting you upright to lean back against a pile of firm pillows. Once he is satisfied you are settled, he produces a bowl from his side – a waft of steam emitting off the top.

“Here. It has cooled enough to drink.”

“What is it?” Your voice is still awfully hoarse, a raw sting as you talk.

“A staple in every healer’s repertoire - nettle soup. Adept at reducing fevers.”

You take the bowl carefully from his hand, though his follows closely as you guide it up to your mouth lest your grip fail.

You gulp down a mouthful, but it’s absolutely foul upon your tongue, burns your throat as you swallow it down. It feels as if you’ve taken a gulp out of a particularly filthy pond, one thick with algae.

You hold the bowl back out with a shake of your head, hoping he’ll take it. “That’s disgusting.”

Halsin smiles, knowingly – seemingly a complaint he is not all that unfamiliar with hearing. “Whilst I admit the taste is far from what one might call pleasant, it will do you a world of good to drink it.”

You shake your head again, trying to hand it back to him. “I can’t.”

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest. “Dare I enquire your age again, little one? The children in the grove manage it just fine.”

“I’m not a child,” you pout – too feverish to realise the contradiction of your actions. “And they surely do not.”

“They do…”, he retorts, a wistful smile crosses his lips, “albeit with the promise of something sweet after they’ve rested. Would that suffice?”

“Something… sweet?” Your mind drifts off to somewhere it should not as your eyes drop down to focus on the druid’s mouth.

“Mm. They are quite partial to honeycakes, does that appeal?”

You shake your head, placing the bowl down on the floor between the two of you. Though a fan of sweets, the idea of eating anything at the moment doesn’t entice at all.

“No? Well, perhaps you have something else in mind. I’m sure Baldur’s Gate itself will have something to your tastes.”

“I want a kiss.” You mumble.

He must have misheard. “What was that?”

“A kiss - that’s the sweet thing I want.”

“Ah,” if it wasn’t for the dim light within the tent, you would’ve sworn the druid was blushing. “Now, that’ll be the fever speaking.”

“No.” You gaze up at him, wishing you had the strength to curl your fingers in his hair and pull him in for the kiss you crave. “It’s not. I’ve wanted one since that night at camp, the celebration with the tieflings. I swear I’ll drink all the nettle soup in Faerun for a kiss.” “Since…” He trails off. “No, I couldn’t, little one.” He shakes his head, truly looking apologetic. “I won’t. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Why?”

He cups your cheek in a large palm, a small smile on his lips. “I do not believe you are quite aware of what you are requesting, given your current ailment.”

You purse your lips in thought, trying to seek a compromise. “What about when I’m better, then?”

He removes his hand and nods. “When you are recovered and if you recall this conversation and still desire it, then… yes, you may claim your sweet.” He mumbles towards the end, not quite believing what he was apparently promising. “However, you will still need to drink the nettle soup now.”

“Deal.” You acquiesce, and Halsin picks up the bowl in offering.

It burns as it goes down – all four or five remaining mouthfuls - but you manage the whole bowl.

“Good girl,” the wood elf murmurs with a smile – it makes the discomfort feel worth it for a moment - as he inspects the empty bowl, swapping it out for the waterskin once again.

“Now, try and sleep some more. By the time you wake, it will have done its work and you’ll be feeling much better.”

You lie back down without protest, closing your eyes. The furs smell like Halsin and you soon drift off back to sleep, a feverish thought of being wrapped up in his arms and the kiss you hoped to claim come morning.

Day turns into night and then day once more, the hours passed with numerous bowls of nettle soup that still burn at your throat with every swallow, vegetable broth for more sustenance and countless naps to no improvement. Halsin has been trying to distract himself with whittling, but it is not proving successful – lopping off half of the duck’s beak when you stir momentarily. He’s checked your temperature with the back of his hand too many times to count. There’s a taunting rattle from your lungs between bouts of sharp coughing fits that doesn’t seem to be easing either. The nettle soup should’ve broken your fever at least – he hadn’t encountered one in all his years that it had failed to do so – but you seem to be growing worse by the hour.

He watches as you toss and turn, brushing your hair from your face. You’ve done so much for him – freed him from the goblins, ensured the safety of the Grove and its occupants, defended him whilst he recovered Thaniel, freed a realm from the shadowcurse of beyond a century and yet he cannot return a simple favour by ridding you of a fever?

“Is she sick?”

“Thaniel.” Halsin’s starts at the sudden appearance of the spirit. The boy is knelt besides him, staring down curiously at your slumbering form. “What are you doing here, my friend?”

“Your party hasn’t moved on - I wondered why. Is she sick?”

Thaniel remained as curious as ever, it seemed.

Halsin sighs. “Yes, I am afraid so. The fever and cough proves most stubborn – I fear I am depleting this area’s supply of nettles.”

“Nettles?”

“For the soup – it reduces the fever. Or it should.”

Thaniel frowns, leaning over you and taking a cautious sniff. “But she smells of spolar.”

“Spolar?” The word seems vaguely familiar, though it sparks a sinking, sickening feeling in his stomach.

“It will have been a long time since you’ve had to treat it.” The boy shrugs. “A large purple mushroom, remember? Its spores line the lungs – its growth accelerates if surrounded by nettles.”

“No…” It’s as if a hand is squeezing at his heart. “I don’t recall seeing any on our travels out. It would grow so quickly?”

“Nettles are sturdy enough even for the shadowcurse, so when it was lifted it had probably laid dormant beneath the soil until the time came. How long have you been treating her?”

“Nearly two moons – numerous bowls of nettle soup.” Halsin’s face has drained of all colour. “By Silvanus, I’ll have been nourishing the infection itself.”

“You did not mean to,” Thaniel replied, patting Halsin on his thigh. “Do not fret. Vapours from a wilted Sussur Bloom will clear the lungs when inhaled, suspending any further spread. Then she will just need rest.”

“A wilted…” He gets to his feet, his mind whirring with the next steps. “I must make haste back to the Underdark – I could be there and back by night fall with the aid of sigil circles.”

He hurries out of his tent, finding Gale sat outside of his, camped a stone’s throw away, and a large tome in his lap.

“Halsin,” Gale starts cautiously, setting down his book at the wood elf's urgency. “Is something the matter?”

“Everything.” The druid drops to his knees and empties out his pack – planning to stuff it full of as much Sussur Bloom as he can lay his hands upon. “I made her worse. She’s inhaled the spore of the spolar.”

“The spore of what? And how could you have made her worse?” Gale quirks an eyebrow, trying to keep up. He has never seen the wood elf so flustered. “I don’t understand.”

“Spolar… the spores line the airways. It feeds and thrives upon other vegetation – I’ve been giving her nettle soup. She told me it burnt and I insisted she eat more. And she did, because she trusted me.”

“Oh. Well, you didn’t know-”

“I should’ve known!” Halsin explodes in response, his voice echoing around their encampment. “I need to go to the Underdark, I-” He gets up to his feet and immediately stumbles, catching himself before he could fall. Gale is quick to stand in front of him, hands held up to try in a feeble attempt to stop the wood elf leaving.

“Halsin, when is the last time you rested?”

“It matters not-”

“It very much does.” Gale chides. “Look at you – you are in no fit state to look after yourself, let alone gallivant off to the Underdark.”

“What the hells is going on?” Astarion appears the other side of Gale, drawn out by Halsin’s outburst.

“I must set this right. I cannot allow her to suffer a moment longer due to my negligence-“

“Okay, I’m sensing there’s a lot more to your feelings here, but allow me to assure you that we all care about her. Allow us to assist you, to aid you in whatever you need in this moment.”

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Astarion almost stomps his foot, never one to be ignored.

Halsin sighs, running a large palm down his face. Gale is right – he is exhausted, unable to enter a state of reverie in the past days in fear of you needing him.

“A Sussur Bloom. I need to retrieve one from the Underdark.”

Gale frowns. “But they don’t work outside the Underdark.“

“Wilted ones, they-"

“Wilted, you say?” Astarion looks at his fingernails for imaginary dirt. “I’ve got a handful in my pack still, I’m sure.”

Halsin sets off running in the direction of the vampire’s tent and his pack, Astarion hot on his heels.

“Now, wait a moment!”

Halsin won’t look at you.

You’d woken up, confusingly, back in your own tent two days later to Gale sat by your side and your fever broken. Your voice was still a little hoarse and walking around the camp left you all but winded, but that was meant to pass in another day or two, then the plan was to finally set off towards Baldur’s Gate.

You’d felt bad for holding the party up for so long, but everyone has been rather kind about the delay, doting on you a little more than you’d like.

All but Halsin, really, who stares over your head – not a hard feat given his height, true – but still, it smarts when you cannot catch his eye, especially when it was something you used to achieve so easily. He appears to leave the campsite before dawn and returns for supper, though he moves away from the campfire when you take your place, thanking Gale for the meal before hurrying off.

It’s driving you mad.

Tonight, though, you have a plan. You took supper back to your tent, feigning the need for an early night to your companions and lying in wait for Halsin to depart the camp once more.

You find the elf stood at the very edge of the lake, standing in the shallow waters as it laps to and fro, hands held behind his back.

You approach cautiously, conscious of disturbing a meditation or ritual the ex-archdruid might be partaking in, but it seems he is already acutely aware of your presence.

“There’s a chill in the air tonight.” His voice is firm – you can imagine him using the same tone when he was chairing heated discussions amongst the other druids back at the Emerald Grove. “You should go back to camp and keep warm by the fire at least if you find yourself restless.”

“Halsin,” you choose to ignore him as you wring your hands together and take another step closer. “Have I… offended you in some way?”

“Offended? Never.” Still, he keeps his head turned away from you.

“I apologise sincerely if I said something that upset you whilst I was sick. I’m afraid I don’t recall much of the time in your tent – it’s all a bit of a haze.”

“That’s understandable. You were…” His breath hitches, as if it’s painful to remember. “..quite unwell. But, no, you did not say anything malicious or cruel – it is not in your nature.”

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

His biceps tense as he brings his arms back in front of him, his shoulders heaving up with a breath before dropping back down as he swings round on his heels. He meets your eyes for a second or two before his gaze moves back above your head, as if something was extremely interesting in the distance.

“There.” A forced smile – it doesn’t reach the wood elf’s eyes by a mile. “Now, will you go back to the camp?”

“No.” You huff, taking a step closer.

“Please. Your lungs are not fully recovered yet and the chill tonight will do you no favours.”

“I’m not going back until you look me in the eyes and tell me what I’ve done to be treated this way.” You stand firm, stubborn.

He sighs, seemingly exasperated at the conversation. “You have not done anything, my h… friend.”

“I must have done something.”

“You are mistaken.”

“No, I’m not.” You retort back, placing your hands on your hips. “Ever since you healed me, you’ve been-”

“Healed you?” He scoffs, derisively, meeting your eyes at last with a furrowed brow. “Healed you? I did no such thing - I made you worse!”

You stare for a moment, bemused. “What? Worse how?”

“You said the nettle soup was burning your throat, you told me multiple times and I dismissed you saying it for not liking the taste, not of a symptom. Every time I had you drink it, I was giving the infection what it needed to thrive. I was killing you.”

“No.” You shake your head. “I don’t remember that.” And you don’t, everything’s hazy – vague memories of cooling compresses on your head, a supportive arm around your waist as you drank from a waterskin. “Why would I keep drinking it if it hurt?”

“Because,” he takes a shuddering breath, “we made a deal.”

“A deal about what?”

“I beg of you not to make me relive my shame.” Halsin sounds defeated, but you continue to push.

“A deal about what?”

“I… I told you of how the children in the Grove took their medicine under the promise they would receive something sweet when they were better. Honeycakes, candied fruits, the like. You…” His voice grows tight. “You asked for something else sweet.”

You feel your face flush, a hazy, whisp of a memory now becoming crystal clear. “A kiss.”

The wood elf’s shoulders shudder. “I took advantage of your trust in me.”

“Advantage?”

“Of your feverish state.”

“I’m the one who suggested the kiss.”

“And I’m the one who agreed due to my own selfish desires, ignoring what my patient was trying to tell me.”

“No, you thought you were doing the right thing. We all make mistakes, or misinterpret. I’m fine.” You wrap your hand around his forearm as best as you can, trying to tug him forward. “Besides the whole tadpole in my head, of course…”

He smiles, wryly, at your poor joke, though you see tears burn at his eyes. “I just… I cannot stand the thought that I have caused you harm, little one – intentional or otherwise.”

“You haven’t, Halsin.” You place your other hand tentatively on his chest and look up, feeling his heart beat beneath your fingertips. “I am well and, if you were still willing, I’m ready for my sweet.”

He shakes his head. “As much as my heart desires it – and it does - I do not deserve it.”

“Am I not allowed to be the judge of that? And I say a deal is a deal.”

“You… truly wish for it still?”

You stand up on your very tip toes and press a kiss to the underside of his jaw, as far as you can reach. “More than ever.”

A firm arm wraps delicately around your waist – cautious of squeezing you too firmly – and heaves you up easily against his firm chest, his other hand cupping your cheek as he captures your lips in a kiss. It is soft and delicate, as if he’s worried you’ll break, but when you lift your hand to tangle in his locks and tug to bring him closer and deepening the kiss, there is no mistaking the growl that emits from his throat when your tongues intertwine.

As soon as you drop your hand from his hair, he retreats too, dropping you back down carefully to the ground, eyes scanning you in concern.

“You’re breathless, my heart.” You feel your cheeks prickle with heat at the term of endearment. “And flush too. Please, I insist you go back and keep warm-"

You cut him off, pressing your fingers against his lips, exhaling breathily. “Two things. One, I’m breathless because of your kiss. Two, I’m flush because of your words - what sort of reaction am I meant to have to you calling me that?”

He lifts his own hand then to hold yours in place so he can kiss the fingertips pressed against his lips, before tugging your hand back down and interlacing your fingers.

“My heart, my love, my sun, my moon, my stars - so many things I wish to call you whilst I lavish you with affection from dusk till dawn, and dawn till dusk… if you’d allow me, that is.”

“Allow?” You smile, “I encourage – heartily.”

It happens too fast to comprehend, a gentle twist of your arm to twirl you in front of him before one arm wraps around the back of your knees and you are swept off your feet, the wood elf commencing large strides back towards the camp.

“Then I insist we return to your tent where you will have as many sweets as you desire.”

“Oh, my tent now, is it?” You tease. “I thought I had to go and stay warm by the fire.”

“Yes, but, lucky for you,” he smirks, “I am known to run quite hot.”

Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

#ghostdogwrites #halsin x you #halsin x reader #halsin x tav #halsin fluff

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canthelpit0 · 1 day

Text

Fake?

Pairing: Matt sturniolo x Reader

Word count : 3.2k +

Summary: matt and reader have known each other since forever. And they’ve been attached at the hip since forever. But what happens when they start to just let everyone think they’re dating, since it’s too hard to convince them otherwise anyway..

Warnings: friends to lovers, fluff, (sort of) fake dating, use of y/n, sweet talk, praise kink, pet names (sweetheart, baby, etc.), gentle sex, oral fem!Reciving, unprotected, creampie, 2nd person.

(A/N: sorry this is actually so short. But I wanted to write something more fluffy for Matt.)

Being childhood friends with the triplets there was always something going on in your life.

You and Matt have been tied at the hip since you were just babies. And sometimes it felt like he was more dependent on you than his own triplet brothers.

You were always together, hanging out. Good thing you were neighbors.

Back when you were younger it was even worse. You’d always sleep in the same bed. Whether at his or your house, you were always snuggling into each other.

You’d hold hands whenever you went anywhere. You made his anxiety better.

You were always there for him. And always being there for him, you were there for his first panic attack. You hadn’t known what to do, but just your presence made him calm down faster.

How close you were was questionable, It was cute when you were kids, but you were both seniors in high school now.

Obviously you were best friends with Nick and Chris too. Yet with Matt it was different.

He was popular around school. Well not really him. But he was known because he is a triplet. Matt out of the three of them was the most introverted so naturally he seemed the most mysterious.

Most people also thought you two were dating. And you did nothing to stop them from thinking that. After all, why would you care about what they say?

Matt was currently pacing around in front of you though. You were sitting on your bed, propped against your headboard, as you just watch him move around.

Contrary to popular belief, The most you and Matt had ever done is kiss. And that was only because you got dared to in middle school. And it was only one time.

“C’mon y/n/n please” he whines dramatically. Matt comes over to your bed draping his upper body across your legs, his hands are clasped together dramatically.

“It’s like we’re already dating anyway.”

Matt and his brothers have a shared YouTube that they started recently, about being triplets. You have featured in it plenty of times.

People were shipping you and Matt. And people in real life also thought you were dating.

So Matt being scared to be shipped with other content creators, or any girl he was around, wanted you to pretend to be his girlfriend.

You wouldn’t even have to change anything about the way you act, really. You two already act like a couple.

“Matt” you sigh your hands finding their way to his hair. You card through it gently rubbing his scalp.

“Y/n/n please” he begs again. His upper body is draped on your legs. His lower body is kneeling on the floor next to the bed.

Matt didn’t like being shipped. But he’d been shipped with you all his life. And if he had a ‘girlfriend’ people would stop getting into his business.

“Okay” you give in. Because of course you do. This is your long time best friend. You can never say no to him.

He perks up. “Really??” He sits up on his knees on the floor. His arms are still draped across your lap.

“Yeah, but what does it In tail ?” You ask slowly with a slight smile creeping up your face at the way he reacted.

“Nothing, we just say we’re dating” he shrugs. You already acted like it.

“Y’know and maybe kiss sometimes” he shrugs with a slight smile. He wasn’t going to kiss you every time you were on camera, that’d feel forced. He was just gonna kiss you whenever he felt like it, and use that as a way to show affection.

“Nothing we haven’t done before” he adds jokingly.

In a rush of boldness you pull him up by his shirt and pull him towards yourself. He gets ontop of you with a teasing smile, and your lips crash together.

It’s a sweet normal kiss, there is no sparks. It’s just a simple press of lips.

Once he pulls away you chuckle. “What’re we gonna tell Nick and Chris?” You question. “Are they gonna know?”

“Just let them think we’re dating too, im pretty sure they’re already convinced” Matt chuckles looking down at you fondly.

He gets off of you, rolling to the side of your bed. He pulls the covers up and gets underneath. Matt pulls you down too, so that you’re laying snuggled up in his arms.

★ ★ ★

So that is how you two started dating. And that was two years ago now.

At that time they’d only had around 20k YouTube followers and way more on TikTok. And now they were at 6 million.

You were also a YouTuber and tiktoker now. Except you post whenever you want to.

You’d moved out from Boston to LA with them because, oh you’re still Matt’s girlfriend.

You have your own bedroom. Though you don’t use it very much. You’ve always loved sleeping in the same bed as Matt, cuddling all night, and that never changed.

People believe you’re dating. Wich was the whole point. Even your families do, with no suspicion at all.

Except what nobody knows, is that you and Matt have never done anything further than make out. Even with two years of dating. You just never cared to really.

But you did everything else, cuddle, share sweet kisses, go on dates, hang out, be close to each other.

It was almost like you were actually dating.

And the reason why it lasted so long with barely any problems, was because you and Matt never had an eye for anyone else. It was always you two against the world.

You and Matt were sitting on the couch watching some Netflix show. Nick and Chris were not home, they were at some influencer party.

Suddenly you turn your body and get on top of Matt. You leave a long kiss on his lips, catching him off guard.

“Matt.”

He looks back at you as you sit there straddling his lap. His hands snake to your waist to hold you. Your hands resting on his shoulders.

“Mhm?” He hums in response.

“You know how we’ve done almost everything a couple would?” You ask slowly.

He raises an eyebrow at the statement but nods.

“How about we-“ you cut yourself off for a moment. You click your tongue thinking of how to word it. “Can we fuck?”

That catches Matt off guard. Since it’s once again not what he expected. He pauses looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

“You want me to fuck you?” He asks again seeing if he heard that correctly.

“Yes please?” You say slowly. But before you can question if it was a smart idea to ask that or not, he’s already lifting you and carrying you to your shared bedroom.

He throws you onto the bed gently. You tell at the impact but before you know it Matt’s lips are on yours again.

He pulls away for a moment to swiftly pull his shirt over his head and throws it away. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but this was different. This felt… sensual, almost.

He gets on top of you, as you lay in the middle of the king-sized bed. He showers you in kisses, slowly trailing his kisses to your jawline and neck.

You can feel him suck on your collarbone leaving a Purple bruise. Your breath hitches as you start to feel his hand start to run over your side.

You keep looking up at him through lust heavy eyes. You watch his every move anticipating for what he’ll do next.

“Want me to make you feel good sweetheart?” He teases, his tone ever so soft.

Ever since you’ve known Matt was a romantic. Almost even a hopeless romantic. But maybe it was you all along.

“Please” you breathe out. Matt pulls away slightly his eyes looking over your face. He looks fond. Like you’re the best thing to ever have happened to him.

He starts to tug on your shirt. “Can I?” He whispers. This entire thing feels so incredibly romantic and loving.

You nod, shifting slightly to let him take your shirt off.

Once his eyes fall on your bra he smiles. He smiles fondly like this was all he was waiting for all his life.

“You’re so gorgeous.“

He mumbles under his breath. His kisses go back to your collarbone, leaving even more love bites on it.

“I’ll make you feel good sweetheart, I promise.” He smiles. He places a sweet peck on your cheek before he starts to trail them down your body.

Once he reaches your pants he tugs on them lightly before you whine out an agreement.

As soon as it’s off he starts to admire your half naked body in front of him. Matt perches between your thighs leaving a teasing peck on your clothed clit.

“Please” you sighs. You push yourself back on him. Matt chuckles at the movements. He pushes you down by your hips.

“Patience honey” he chuckles teasing you by kissing up your inner thighs. He was purposefully not stimulating the part you needed him the most.

“Matt please” you whine throwing your head back on the bed as you wait for Matt to do something, anything.

“Look at me baby.” He hums softly kissing up your inner thigh. He rubs your thighs slightly while you pick up your head to look back down at him.

You groan dramatically. “Matt”

The way Matt looks between your things like that, only serves to make you even wetter.

He chuckles finally starting to pull your panties off gently. He slides them off, and throws them across the room. Being careful not to put any pressure on you.

He smiles down at you. Matt sits up between your legs. “How about we take this off yeah?” He hums. His hands trails over your bra. You eagerly lean up to give him access to take your bra off.

He also threw that across the room.

You sigh, laying back down dramatically. Your chest moves at the impact of you laying back down.

Matts eyes lock on your chest

He smiles fondly. He takes one of your tits in his hand starting to fondle it gently.

“You’re so gorgeous, baby” he smiles leaning down for a moment to kiss you, and then trailing his kisses down your throat and between the valley of your breasts.

You let out a soft breath feeling his lips press against all these sensual places.

“Matt please. Come on” you whine dramatically laying flat on your back waiting for him to do something. Anything.

He chuckles, deciding to speed up the teasing. He places himself back between your thighs. Matt then pulls your leg over his shoulders.

“I wanna make this memorable for you.” He says. But before you can respond he licks a bold stripe up your pussy.

You gasp at the feeling. You close your eyes briefly and then look at him.

Before you can complain about the lack of contact, he leaves a kiss on your clit before starting to suck on it.

His groans were sending vibrations through you. he was sucking and swirling his tongue, lapping up your juices. He was eating you out like you were his last meal.

You were chanting his name like a prayer while he just kept vigorously eating you out. Your hands stay tangled in the messy waves, you gently tug on it.

Until without warning you felt his fingers plunge into your tight aching cunt. You feel him start to move them as you feel yourself get closer to the edge.

“Matt- im-“ you get cut off by a moan when Matt curls his fingers at just the right spot.

His eyes stay focused on you. He watches you with a sharp gaze. Watching the way you react.

His movements speed up even more. And before you can warn him you feel the knot in your stomach snap.

He continues to eat you out, lapping up your juices, until you calm down. He licks a final stripe up your pussy watching you shudder at the slight overstimulation.

You tug at his hair and he finally comes back up with his chin coated in your juices. He wipes his chin off with the back of his hand, grinning.

“You’re doing so well for me princess.” Matt smiles leaning down and pressing another sweet kiss to your forehead.

“Matt, please fuck me.” You breathe out. You’re tone begging.

You’ve known Matt all your life. He was your childhood best friend. The guy who you’ve been fake dating for years now. The guy who treated you like a princess, despite your relationship only being for show.

And yet all you wanted to do right now is be with him. Be as close to him as possible.

In hindsight. All of this was inevitable. You’ve always been a little too close, a little too touchy. You’ve always known too much about each other.

That was the reason why most of your, and his other relationships didn’t work out.

“ ‘Corse sweetheart.” He smiles, unbuckling his belt and swiftly removing his jeans.

His dick is big. And that’s not even exaggerated. it was bigger than you expected. But it somehow made sense for him.

The tip was the same rosy color he had on his blushing cheeks. It wasn’t too vainy just the perfect amount. You knew from the size that it’d mildly hurt.

You whine at the feeling of him sliding his cock through your soaked folds.

You feel Matt gently push in. You throw your head back at the feeling making sure to keep your eyes on him.

“Fuck you’re so big” you breathe out. Only his tip was in, but the girth was enough to have you drooling.

“I’ll take it slow, honey” he looks down at you fondly.

And all that fake dating, fake love thing you guys have been doing for years was starting to feel just a little too real.

Once he fully bottoms out he sighs. He doesn’t move for a little, letting you get used to the feeling.

“You can move” you mumble under your breath.

“Your wish is my command princess” he jokes slightly. Matt starts to thrust in and out of you. His pace is gentle and slow.

And with the way he is leaning over your body, keeping the eye contact, it seems so loving and sensual.

“Oh my god Matt-“ you throw your head back, your eyes closing.

Matt was just looking down at you all fond and loving. He looks at you like you’re the only woman in the world. The only woman who he cares for.

“Fuck- I love you” you breathe out. Without even realizing what you were saying. You’ve said I love you to each other so many times. Yet all those times it was for show, or meant platonically.

But this. This was not. You were in love with your best friend. The guy who you’ve been sort of fake dating for two years.

“Oh? do you?” Matt replies teasingly.

He leans down starting to kiss down your neck once again. And the feeling of that only makes you even more aroused. Your breath hitches when you realize what you’d just admited.

Before you can panic though, Matt starts talking.

“I love you too”

He wasn’t slowing down. He didn’t seem phased by the confession. Like he knew, or was expecting it.

“Do you?” You breathe out.

Matt pulls back slightly. He looks down at you as you timidly open your eyes again. Your eyes lock on his once more. He stares at you with all the love and lust in his body.

“I should’ve told you earlier.” He admits. He lets out a slight laugh at the idea.

His eyes trail your body. Admiring every curve and feature you have.

“It’s okay.” Your eyes are half lidded, watching him watch you. “Are you mine now? For real?”

“I’m all yours, princess”

And that sentence alone had you rolling your eyes into the back of your head. the way he was talking mixed with the sensual thrusts he was giving. It all felt so good.

It just felt so intimate and loving.

He leans down again his lips capturing yours.

You sloppily kiss back. His thrusts remain deep and sensual.

One of his hands move to your breast again starting to fiddle with it, occasionally flicking the nipple.

He pulls away from the kiss. He changes hands giving just as much attention to your other breast.

“You wanna come for me baby?” His tone is light and teasing, but laced with so much lust and affection.

“Please”

He smiles pulling himself up. He yanks your legs over his shoulders, readjusting. He starts to harshly thrust into you.

The new angle making him hit deeper. He was hitting every spot in you, making you weak in your knees.

You whine and moan loudly, not bothering to keep quiet since no one is home. You chant his name like it’s the only thing you can think of- wich it is.

His breath is sharp too, he lets out occasional groans wich sent tingles to your core.

He sounds so good.

Matt’s thumb finds its way to your clit starting to rub in it harshly.

“You’re squeezing me so tight honey.” He lets out a harsh breath.

You can only whine in response. The feeling of him drilling into your cunt is overwhelming. You feel like you couldn’t talk, even if you tried.

“You gonna come?” He huffs starting to pick up pace, both with rubbing on your clit and fucking your cunt.

You feel the intense pressure of the knot, ready to snap in your stomach.

“Let go for me.”

As soon as the words leave his lips you feel yourself clench against him. your eyes close as you feel your orgasm wash over you.

He keeps thrusting into you, fucking you through your orgasm.

“Can I come in you?” Matt breaths out. And all you think to do is nod. You were on the pill, but Matt was gonna take the safe route and ask before he does it anyway.

As soon as you nod you hear his sharp breaths. His hips speed up. The sound of your lewd wetness and the sound of skin slapping is echoing loudly.

His hips start to stutter until he finally slows down.

He collapses on top of you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

Matt keeps himself inside of you. You feel the way your combined juices leak out of you. You feel the warm and closure of his body.

He pulls back again. He looks down at you. “So does this count as our new actual anniversary or are we gonna use the fake one?” He says his tone is half joking.

He had that goofy, almost giddy smile on his face. And his smile was making you smile.

“I don’t know we can have both?” You suggest.

After a moment of just staring, admiring each other he pulls out slowly as to not hurt you.

He stares down at your pussy for a second. Looking at the way it looks all filled with his seed.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” He smiles. He bites his lip when his eyes finally meet yours again.

“Can’t leave your pussy like this.” He teases, stealing another quick peck from your lips, making you smile.

Masterlist

(A/N: again sorry this is kinda ass, but I rlly like the concept 🫶🏼)

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolols

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meazalykov · 2 days

Text

Salma or Selma?

Salma Paralluelo x BarcaPlayer!R x Selma Bacha

Warnings: angst, anger/sadness, cheating, betrayal, author making up future champions league results for the plot so please don't bully me if things go differently irl, long chapter

The last few months were a whirlwind of emotions for Y/n L/n. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, an unsettling sensation that gnawed at her insides like a persistent itch. Despite the facade she tried to maintain, there were moments when doubt crept in, casting a shadow over her once happy and carefree personality.

Y/n found herself second-guessing every word that came out of Salma Paralluelo’s mouth. A year ago, Salma and Y/n started dating. This boosted the joy in the 20 year old’s life.

She found warmth in Salma's touch and a kindness in her gaze that made her feel cherished and adored. She thought highly of Salma, being there for her when she won the World Cup, despite her own country being eliminated in the Round of 16.

On the field, outside of their relationship, they’re a duo in Barcelona that couldn't be stopped by the opposition defenders. Y/n is a left winger while Salma was mainly positioned as a striker. The amount of goals and assists they’ve given each other boosted their playing confidence more.

Overtime, the colors in the sky turned cloudy.

When Salma wasn’t with Y/n outside of football, the Spanish girl was with the goalkeeper on their team, Cata. This didn’t concern Y/n at first, the girl had trust in Salma and building bonds with teammates is important. Salma knew Cata before she knew Y/n anyways.

Eventually, small things started to creep up onto Y/n’s mind. Salma and Cata had small inside jokes together. The duo were affectionate, which Y/n didn’t mind at first because that behavior isn’t uncommon in Spain.

Y/n suspicions were confirmed once she noticed Salma starting to ditch her to hang out with Cata, almost everyday.

Salma promised that she is helping Cata with a recent breakup. Y/n wanted to press further but didn’t. The girl knew that other close friends on the team, Esmee or Ingrid for example, would tell her if they suspected something with Salma and Cata too.

Though she desperately tried to dismiss her suspicions as paranoia, the nagging feeling persisted, festering beneath the surface like a wound that refused to scab and heal. With each passing day, as Salma continued to ditch their plans, Y/n's unease grew. And little did she know, the tempest of betrayal that awaited her would challenge everything she thought she knew about love and trust.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Y/n yelled as she turned into a hallway at Johan Cruyff stadium. She walked with Esmee Brugts, happy about their win against SK Brann. Now, she stood as her heart sank into her stomach, shattered in a million pieces.

Cata had her arms around Salma as the girl kissed down her neck, stopping once she heard the scream of her actual girlfriend. Salma jumped away, pushing Cata before looking right at Y/n, not knowing what to say at first.

“So this is w-why you we-were ditching me?” Y/n’s voice broke.

The left winger started to panic. For a second, it felt as if she couldn’t breathe. The suspicions she had were real and weren't just a story she made up. Esmee noticed her panic, she gently pulled Y/n’s arm and turned her away from the cheater and the goalkeeper before things got worse.

“Y/n wait-”

“Not now.” The Dutch cut Salma off, looking at her with sadness and slight disappointment, before pulling Y/n away from what occurred. Esmee couldn’t believe what her friend was capable of too.

The team didn’t find out what had happened. Y/n, Esmee, Salma, and Cata only knew. A week later, Salma showed up to Y/n’s apartment. She begged for another chance and mentioned that she cut Cata off. Y/n didn’t respond to her pleas for a couple of hours while Salma begged in her apartment.

Eventually, Y/n took Salma back. With a heavy heart and a tentative embrace, Y/n chose to believe in the possibility of redemption. She missed Salma’s presence and allowed herself to be enveloped in the warmth of Salma's embrace once more.

The American international didn’t let the Spanish girl come back without promises though. She told Salma that she couldn’t talk to Cata outside of football, not mention what happened to anyone except for who already knew (Esmee and Cata obviously), and not to ditch her again. Salma smiled and agreed.

For a month, things between the two looked the same from an outsider's perspective. They would’ve said that Y/n and Salma looked extremely happy with each other. Y/n scored 4 goals against Chelsea in the first leg of the Champions League Semi-Finals. Salma had the brightest smile as she hugged her girlfriend.

However, the scars of betrayal ran deep. Y/n never let the betrayal between Salma and Cata go. When Cata tried to congratulate her on her goal, Y/n just walked by her, saying “Thanks.” No hug or high five.

Sometimes, she wonders if they’re still interested in each other. Y/n hopes she's not in the way of any possible feelings between the Spanish girls.

Barcelona and Chelsea still have to compete in the second leg of the Semi-Final, but Y/n believed that Lyon and Barcelona will go head-to-head in the Champions League Final. Lyon is facing PSG in the Semi-Final but they've won the first leg 4-1.

Y/n is excited about a possible Champions League final, last year she won the final against Wolfsburg because of her goal that pushed Barcelona up 3-2 in the second half.

A day after she got back from London, Y/n went out to celebrate with a few friends who came to Spain, from America, to visit her. Salma didn’t come with her to meet her friends because she wanted to go to a gym session instead, which Y/n believed.

(Pretend this is you in these pictures below)

y/n.l/n

tagged: urbestie

liked by selma_bacha, malpugh, and 44,927 others

americans in espana 🇪🇸🌞

comments

salmaparalluelo 😍😍

malpugh you're so cute

wososoccer478 she hasn't posted with salma in nearly 8 months 🥴

leahlover8 I noticed that! They're still together in fcbfemeni training pictures so they're okay I believe

aitanabonmati ☺️

esmeebrugts no invite? 😧🇳🇱

y/n.l/n next time Es I promise!

wosotranfernews the best friendship ^

----

A few hours after she posted on Instagram, Y/n got home to her apartment and took off her sandals. She placed her sandals right by the door before walking to her living room and laying down on top of her comfortable ivory couch.

She pulled her phone out of her brown leather bag, clicking on the lock button to see no notifications from Salma. Y/n heart started to race but she ignored it when she saw the sole notification on the phone from Instagram.

selma_bacha

hey

Y/n raised her eyebrows in confusion as she stared at the notification on the pink iphone. She knew the french player who currently played at Lyon. Even though she is confused, she is intrigued too. Why is Selma reaching out to her, and why now? Selma and Y/n followed each other three years ago but haven’t talked until now.

y/n.l/n

hey. how are you?

The Barcelona player typed out a response, waiting for the response from the girl behind the screen.

----

When y/n looked up at her phone, she noticed that it was twenty minutes past midnight. She got home from dinner with friends around nine. The conversation she had with Selma lasted three hours. The American scrolled down on her phone to see if she had notifications from her girlfriend Salma.

None.

The girl decided to give Salma the benefit of the doubt, despite her past cheating. Y/n continued to text the French girl for a few minutes before they’ve both decided to call it a night.

selma_bacha

goodnight

y/n.l/n

goodnight

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat as a message from Selma illuminated her phone screen. The simple message might be nothing to others but to Y/n, it held a power within them. It had been so long since Salma had taken the time to bid her goodnight or good morning, even though they’ve been together for 14 months. The gesture from Selma touched Y/n in a way she couldn't quite explain.

The American took a shower, changed into her night clothes, and laid in her bedroom in the quiet darkness, her thoughts drifting back to her conversation with the Lyon player. Talking to her felt so easy. Sometime in the conversion, their typed messages turned into audio messages and their shared laughter after their jokes made y/n happy in the absence of her girlfriend. At that moment, Y/n knew that she needed to talk to Selma more. She had so much in common with the Lyon player and their sense of humor aligned.

-----

A month has gone by and Y/n was right, Lyon and Barcelona would be facing in the Champions League final. She felt a wave of excited emotions, knowing that this will be her second final with the team.

In the second leg against Chelsea, Y/n scored a hat trick and Caroline Graham Hansen scored the fourth goal. The game ended in a 4-2 win. The WSL team was sent home and Y/n felt bad as one of her USWNT teammates played for twenty minutes against her.

Salma and Y/n started to drift apart and the team started to question it. Aitana asked Y/n one day if things were okay, Y/n lied and said yes.

The Spanish girlfriend started to ditch her American girlfriend again. However, things were different this time. Y/n felt her heart go elsewhere as Salma abandoned her.

Over the month, Y/n engaged in everyday conversations with the Left-Back at Lyon. Selma and her had a few FaceTime calls and they're compatible in many ways.

Y/n started to question everything. She wanted to distance from Salma so she can figure out her feelings, but they're on the same team. At training, Salma found herself close with y/n so avoidance wasn't ideal. The American knew that she will see Selma in the Champions League final so she couldn't avoid her too.

In the quiet solitude of her plant and pink covered room, with the gentle hum of the Barcelona town outside her window, Y/n looked through her camera roll. She scrolled through her "Lover girl" album, which contained pictures of Salma and her together. Y/n felt her heart sink as she stopped at the last picture, clicking on the date to see that she didn't update the album since the night she caught Salma cheating on her with Cata.

Clicking off of the album, she went through her other folders to see many screenshots from her FaceTime calls with Selma Bacha. Y/n blushed as she saw Selma doing silly things on the calls, like (jokingly) getting angry over their Fifa games or making silly frowning faces .

Y/n's heart ached with the weight of indecision, torn between the familiar comfort of Salma and the extreme chemistry with Selma. Each possessed qualities that spoke to different parts of her soul, Salma with her history and shared memories, and Selma with her vibrant energy, admiration, and newfound connection.

As she wrestled with her thoughts, Y/n knew that the choice she made would shape the course of her future, a decision not just about love, but about her career and the kind of person she wanted to be.

Y/n exploded her bottled emotions onto her friend, Lindsey, from back home. Yes, Lindsey Horan from her International team that played for Lyon. The same Lindsey that knew Selma just as much as she knew Y/n.

"You know what they say. If there's two people in your life, pick the second one. Since there would've never been a second choice if you loved the first one enough." Lindsey said over the FaceTime. Yn laughed at how "corny" the saying is.

"I love Salma, Lindsey. However, I can't go on with this if I can't trust her." Y/n frowned.

"You shouldn't go on with her either if you want Selma involved with your future too. It sounds like Salma might leave you for Cata soon. No offense, I just need you to hear the truth before it happens..." Lindsey added on. Y/n took a deep breath, processing the blondes valid points.

"How do you know if Selma likes me?"

"Oh she likes you a lot. She's mentioned it to the team multiple times. Selma is just waiting on you to let Salma go." Lindsey confessed.

"I can't just break up with Salma. She'll move on to Cata and it'll break up the team's dynamics. It happened with a love triangle here before." Y/n explained, referring to the love triangle between Lucy Keira and Ona.

"Lyon is interested in you. Everyone involved in the transfer markets knows they want to activate your release clause. They just need your approval-- and maybe you can come here for a new start." Lindsey suggested. Y/n nodded at the possibility. She could leave Barcelona, leaving Cata and Salma to be together and she could be closer to Selma. Plus, Lyon is a big club like Barcelona so it's a good career move.

----

The tension hung heavy in the air as Barcelona squared off against Lyon in the electrifying Champions League final. The crowd's roars echoing like thunder in Y/n's ears as she stepped onto the field, her heart pounding in rhythm with the pulsating beat of the game.

At the first sight of Selma Bacha, y/n felt nervous. Nobody knew how she felt about her except for Lindsey, who is one of Lyon's midfielders currently. The Barcelona left winger took Lindsey’s suggestion into consideration and she has a few plans for her career after this final.

During halftime, the game is 2-2. Caroline Graham Hansen scored a brace so far along with Becho having a brace for Lyon. The atmosphere is intense as there is another fourty-five minutes left. For Y/n, amidst the chaos of her thoughts, there lingered a deeper, more insidious feeling: guilt.

She knew that she was breaking up with Salma after the season ended. Y/n never confronted Salma about seeing her talking to Cata secretly again before the match. The left-winger knows she is in the way of the two Spanish girls who want to be together. In consideration of her love for Salma, she decided that she will break up with her after the season ends rather than now.

The girl wouldn't have to worry about the pre-season and the next season afterwards in Barcelona. Y/n talked with her agent and Lyon agreed to activate her release clause and will offer her a contract on the first day the transfer window opens in the summer.

As the minutes ticked away and the score remained deadlocked, the pressure mounted, threatening to suffocate Y/n beneath its weight. Yes, she is facing her future club, but she is with Barcelona for now and wants to win with them for one last time. She had an energy driving her to push herself harder, to fight with every fiber of her being. When Salma scored a stunning goal in the 67th minute, by Y/n’s assist bringing the score up 3-2, the crowd exploded.

Salma runs to the corner and celebrates with her usual “4 fingers'' symbol. Afterwards, she turns around and immediately holds her hands out to hug Y/n. The American sighed before smiling lightly, hugging her girlfriend tightly and pulled her face down on Salma’s shoulder. The news media and their shippers talk about this on social media, believing that they aren't broken up like rumors suspected.

The girl inhaled Salma’s vanilla scent before looking into Salma’s eyes, pulling away before letting the rest of the team hug her. She frowned as she walked away, knowing that it might be the last time she will hug her soon-to-be ex-girlfriend.

Y/n walks away towards the left side to see Selma, on the Lyon side, looking at her. The French player smirked before looking away, making the American girl blush.

Selma had a feeling that Y/n will join her in Lyon after this season. The girl gave too many hints on their late night facetimes calls about “being able to see each other all of the time soon.” She knew Salma and Y/n were done, due to suspected cheating from the Spanish, so she didn’t feel badly about her flirtatious moves.

Just when victory seemed within Barcelona’s grasp, fate intervened with a cruel twist of irony. Just two minutes after Salma’s goal for Barcelona, Lyon’s forward Diani passes the ball through the Barcelona box and Horan taps the ball into the net, right past Cata’s hands.

The French crowd explodes as Horan runs to the corner of the box, yelling as she pumps her fist into the air in celebration. Y/n looks on at her USWNT captain, who looked so happy to score her goal with the Division 1 Feminine team.

In the 85th minute, Ingrid Engen dribbled the ball up the field before seeing Aitana who was free to receive a pass. The ball goes up over the players before Aitana jumps up and hits it with her head. The ball flies up again before landing on Esmee’s boot. The Dutch “nutmegs” the ball through a Lyon defender before passing to Y/n. The American dribbles quickly through Selma Bacha before shooting the ball. As the ball goes through Endler’s legs, Y/n screams in excitement. Goal!

Barcelona 4-3

In the dying moments of the game, Selma's team managed to break through Barcelona’s defense, scoring a last-minute goal from Le Sommer that left Y/n reeling in disbelief. As the 90 minutes appeared on the watches on the referees wrists, 6 minutes of extra time were added to the board.

4-4

Y/n looks over at her coach Jona, seeing that he wants the team to play defensively. A few minutes pass but it’s anyone's game. Y/n couldn’t break through the Lyon midfield when she had the ball a few times.

She passes the ball down to Aitana, and the ballon d’or winner passes the ball down to Ingrid, who passes the ball back down to Cata who launches the ball across the field towards Claudia Pina.

Claudia and Selma both go up and try to head the ball towards a teammate. The Lyon player was successful and the ball landed on Horan’s boot. Y/n runs up to challenge the other American but Lindsey passes it to her striker before Y/n reaches her.

Marta challenges Hegerburg who quickly dribbles around her. Ona goes to challenge the Lyon striker before pushing her inside of the penalty box, ruining the potential goal scoring opportunity. Almost all 22 players on the pitch ran to the ref, debating on the challenge as “just a foul” “tir de pénalité” “el desafío está fuera de la caja” and much more. The referee contacts the VAR room with their mini microphone before blowing the whistle. Lyon Penalty.

Hegerburg, not injured by Ona’s contact, goes to take the penalty. Y/n felt her lungs close in as the crowd erupts in screams and whistles. She knew there was a minute left. If the Lyon striker makes the shot, Lyon wins the Champions League unless a miracle occurred.

Y/n’s hands covered her face in disappointment as Hegerburg’s goal went behind the net. Cata moved to the left to block the shot when the hard shot went to the right.

All of the Lyon players dressed in their Blue away jerseys ran to the corner and celebrated the penalty. The players on the bench even ran and screamed to celebrate the penalty.

4-5

Not a single opportunity occurred for Barcelona before the final whistles blew. The scoreboard flashed 4-5 in favor of Selma's team. The Lyon players screamed as they all jumped on each other in joy. A wave of devastation washed over Y/n, the bitter taste of defeat staining her lips as she bit on them, trying not to cry in front of thousands of people.

Yet, amidst the heartbreak and despair, there was a deeper wound that cut to the core of Y/n’s heart. At the moment, she stood alone on the pitch as other Barcelona players fell onto their knees in sadness, some clapped for their fans while having tears in their eyes, Ona ran away into the dressing room so she didn’t have to face the fans who were angry with her last minute mistake.

At first, she thought about her girlfriend who is experiencing the loss too. She looked around to seek solace in Salma's embrace. She stood in the same spot with her hands on her hips as she continued to bite on her plump lips.

What Y/n saw shattered her heart into a million pieces when she realized that Salma wasn’t looking for her. Instead, she watched in silent agony as Salma rushed to Cata's side. Cata sat on the grass and cried as Salma whispered affirmations in her ear. It looked so intimate. In that moment, as tears welled in Y/n's eyes and the weight of her loneliness, she knew that the scars of this defeat ran deeper than any she had ever known.

The American in the white away kit fell onto the grass and let all of her warm tears flow down her dimpled cheeks. She didn’t care who saw it and if pictures would be taken. Y/n’s suppressed feelings about her suspicions were confirmed. Salma chose Cata. In her worst moment, she wanted Cata’s comfort and not her own “girlfriend.”

Y/n, in the back of her mind, knew that she was done with Salma. She couldn’t speak to her after this. She left her alone in the worst moment while she comforted the girl she committed infidelity with.

The girl cried for a few minutes, feeling alone in this dark moment, before she felt the embrace of four arms around her body. She couldn’t see who it was, since she laid flat on the grass with her hands covering her face.

“Y/n, You did amazing out there!” The American in the Barcelona jersey heard the voice of her USWNT captain, Lindsey.

“No I didn’t” Y/n complained, ignoring her beautiful goal and two assists she made during the match.

“Y/n don’t speak about yourself like that. Shit you’re a good opponent!” Y/n froze and her tears seemed to stop flowing when she heard a familiar french accent.

Y/n sat up from the grass, wiping her grass covered knees as Lindsey sat beside her. She turned and looked at Selma, this being their first interaction outside of the game, who wiped her tears with her thumbs. Selma patted Y/n’s puffy face afterwards before sitting right beside her, leaving no space.

“I hope so.” Y/n replied a few seconds after Selma spoke last.

“Congratulations guys.” Y/n continued as she looked back and forth between her friend and the girl who is more than a friend.

“Thank you. You were kicking our ass for a good half.” Selma laughed, she wrapped her arm around Y/n’s lower back as the Barcelona player moved her head to Selma’s shoulder. Y/n laughed in response.

“No literally. I can’t wait to see that when I play with you this summer.” Lindsey agreed. Y/n smiled in reminder of making it on the USWNT olympic roster with her.

“You guys shouldn’t waste your time comforting me. Go celebrate!” Y/n laughed through her dry tears and pointed towards the Lyon teammates who were currently celebrating. She looked around to see Esmee, her best friend at Barcelona, being comforted by some of her Oranje teammates that played for Lyon which made her smile. Y/n knows she will miss her the most when she leaves.

“Who said we are wasting time? The celebration and trophy setup isn't ready for another ten minutes. We have time to be here for you— and we want to be here with you” Selma held Y/n tighter.

Despite her own triumph, Selma's concern was solely for Y/n, offering a comforting embrace that felt similar to medicine curing a cold. In that moment, as Y/n leaned into Selma's embrace, she felt her heart soften, her realization being proven stronger with this moment. It was Selma who was there for her, Selma who offered solace and understanding, Selma who held the key to her heart for the last few months. The left-winger’s heart chooses Selma and will move to play for Lyon.

The media picked up on Salma and Y/n going to comfort other people after the game, which caused their fans to explode in speculation. When pictures of Selma Bacha holding Y/n L/n came out in the media, Lyon and Barcelona fans were shocked before being supportive. When Salma and Cata hard-launched their relationship, fans were shocked too.

The girls never confirmed their breakup publicly, even though Y/n and Salma mutually broke up after the Champions League final. However, they both publicly moved onto their new girlfriends and Y/n moved away to play for the Lyon team, enjoying her new life with Selma Bacha.

an: hope you enjoyed! I'm sad that the barcelona men's team lost the quarter final of the champion's league 😣

#woso x reader #olympique lyonnais #selma bacha #salma paralluelo #barcelona femeni #woso community #wwc 2023 #aitana bonmati #esmee brugts #fc barcelona #lindsey horan

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liesmyth · 13 hours

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Is it better if John erased their memories, or if they came back that way and he just decided not to fix them?

It's immensely better if he intentionally mindwiped them. TO ME.

I'm a John fan. I think he's a tremendous tragic antagonist, and that everything he does in the HtN backstory is relatable if not painful familiar. He was under immense pressure, trying to mitigate the literal end of the world, having his mind and his whole self changed in ways he had no frame of reference to understand. He went from being desperate and trying to do his best to being carried away by circumstances to going absolutely fucking insane. There are many ways to rationalise John's actions all the way to the end, which is what makes it such an effective corruption arc. If you want to engage in some blorbo apologism, there are plenty of excuses to be found.

There's absolutely no fucking way to excuse mind-wiping his friends. THAT is why it's so important to me that he did it deliberately, in cold blood, justifying it to himself as a way to take their burdens upon himself so they wouldn't have to feel guilty. He removed their agency. He didn't want any peers in the world he'd created. He could have acknowledged what had happened, for better or worse, and tried to make amends - but instead, he chose to remove their knowledge that something had even happened in the first place. It's the turning point! I need him to go into that with his eyes fully open. He's doing it on purpose! He weighed the pros and cons and prioritised his comfort over his friends' identities.

EYE believe that his story arc is infinitely more powerful if there's a point we can look at and say "here is when John's story went from things happening TO HIM to John doing terrible things". Especially in a backstory that's ultimately about divine corruption and losing touch with your humanity, I think that turning point needs to be something that has a personal value to him, something that can't be chalked up to "he was high on death" or "humanity was doomed" or even "he touched the soul of the earth and went insane."

I think it's important, thematically, that one of his first actions after acquiring godlike powers was to make sure that no one would be able to remember his human self and challenge him on equal footing, even if he's still internally lamenting his own loneliness and wishing things were different.

Obviously, this is all coming from a known John Girlie™ and Eldritch Alecto Enjoyer — I interpret John's ascension to quasi-divinity as something that was mostly imposed ON him and he couldn't control, which is why I need him to cross the moral event horizon outright with the mind violation of his inner circle. Someone who views John as more directly culpable in the end of the earth might feel less strongly about the importance of the mindwipe in his story arc than I do, but TO ME it's the culmination of the tragedy. You've become the inhuman horror, baby.

/post that inspired the question

#i'd totally read posts or fics where this happens differently but TO ME it's juicy if he does it outright :3 #i doubt we'll ever find out for sure bc i think we've seen ALL that we're going to ever get of the resurrection unless it's from alecto's d #so it's really all headcanons! but this is mine #ask #anonymous #elle tlt posting #ejg #tlt thoughts #SORRY I HAVE SOOO MANY FEELINGS ABOUT THIS

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mutfruit-salad · 3 days

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read your criticism and have a genuine question about your thoughts on the branding scene. i completely understand how max's branding is inherently tied to a racist history, and it always will be, but i dont feel like the scene itself was written with that bias/intent. thaddeus also gets branded in later episodes and it's implied to happen to every aspirant upon their promotion. at what point in writing are black characters morally barred from specific story points because of their similarities to a history that's not directly related? sort of similar with barb, at what point can black characters not do bad things at all, especially in a story where there are near a dozen non-black characters who do worse things? also considering it's implied (at least, i understood it as) she's sticking to vault-tec to protect her family?

I am not in the best position to comment on this, because I am not black. I will do my best to add what I can, but this is a space for others to chime in.

Barb is interesting because she's essentially become the person who did the most heinous crime in the entire setting- by far and away worse than anything anyone has ever done. There really aren't white characters who did worse things- because all the crimes of Caesar or the Enclave or whoever else pale in comparison to being the one who literally set into motion the total annihilation of all nations on Earth. (This is setting aside her willing participation in the inception of the vault experiments- which is an entirely separate also horrific crime.)

The issue is they've created a setting that is, as presented, colorblind. Race is invisible to the writers, who did not consider it meaningfully while producing the show- as is often the case with white creatives putting characters of color into their stories. Colorblindness does not always produce entirely racist results- and when done with tact and intentionality it can even be revolutionary. Look at the relative inclusivity of star trek as an example, and the radical depiction of Uhura in the original series.

The thing that makes Fallout different from Star Trek however is that it is not depicting its colorblind future with tact and intentionality. This is a show that is intensely concerned with depicting the specific brand of nationalistic American politics of the 1950s and the Cold War- and they've reproduced that system for the show but with a black woman at the head. That's where the issue comes up.

This was a system that had racism baked into it by design. It still does. American Nationalism and corporate violence are built on racism against black people and other minorities. And this show desperately wants to depict these things, but they've decided to put a black woman at the head of them. They're depicting systems that are, by their nature, violently racist- but they've decided to portray them as being run by a black housewife.

Fallout 3 does a similar thing with how it depicts every major slaver as a black person. Eulogy Jones, the slave buyer at Paradise Falls, the head slaver in the Abe Lincoln memorial, Ashur in The Pitt. Hell Mothership Zeta adds in a black woman from the wasteland and even SHE'S revealed to have been a slaver. This is something Bethesda consistently does- depicting ideologies and practices with a deep history of racialized violence- and then showing black people at the head of them, seemingly to try to avoid actually addressing any aspect of racism in their stories outside of hamfisted metaphors like synths and ghouls. (I use Fallout 3 as an example but Fallout 4 does many of these same things.)

Thaddeus does also get branded, and he does also get treated to the same demeaning servanthood as Maximus. The difference, quite frankly, is that Thaddeus is white. There are just some things that are straight up inappropriate to depict happening to black characters without appropriate thoughtfulness and context. Never before this series has the Brotherhood ever done brandings- and yet this show opens with it in the first episode and introduces this brand new jarring concept with the visceral image of a black man being branded by faceless fascist cultists.

It's also important to note that even if they didn't intend the scene as racist, it still is. Like I don't think the scriptwriter sat down and said "oh I'm gonna do a racism" cuz intent just doesn't matter here. The scene was intended as a way of showing the severity of the brotherhood- but it also thoughtlessly reproduces images of historic black violence.

@orange-coloredsky I know you've been talking about this stuff all day, and your initial posts about the antiblack racism in the series were what prompted me to write my thoughts today- which is what this ask is in response to. I was curious if you have any other input with all this.

I'd also be more than happy to have any additional input from people better suited to answer these questions.

#fallout #fallout show #fallout 3

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girlgenius1111 · 52 minutes

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contact

r has never been one for physical contact. she doesn't realize what she's missing until she does. barça x touch starved reader

-------

Your teammates had figured it out pretty early on. You didn’t like to be touched. It wasn’t personal, and it wasn’t something you really liked to acknowledge. It was obvious, though, in the way you tensed up whenever anyone went to hug you, or the way you sidestepped the bulk of the celebrations on the pitch. You didn’t like physical contact, and that was fine. Your teammates could respect it, even if it wasn’t what they were used to at all. The majority of them were Spanish, after all.

It never occurred to anyone that perhaps you didn’t dislike physical contact, you just weren’t used to it. At all. You’d grown up in an incredibly not affectionate household. Your parents didn’t hug you, and you never learned anything different from that. It was hardly your only issue with them, and it didn’t even occur to you to consider it an issue.

You’d felt like this your whole life. You thought everyone did. You thought everyone felt this empty space inside of them, longing for something you just couldn’t quite put your finger on. You ignored the way that the infrequent pats on the back and high fives seemed to frustrate this part of you more. You decided it was a negative reaction to touch, rather than one that begged for more.

Like everyone, though, you had a breaking point. And you’d been approaching it for a long time.

------

It wasn’t enough that you’d had an international break from hell, losing both matches despite you running yourself into the ground for a win.

It wasn’t enough that you had to see your parents over the break. It wasn’t enough that they were uncaring and dismissive of everything you said, that they treated seeing you like an obligation rather than something they were excited about.

It had been a long couple weeks, to say the least. And yet, everything you’d dealt with apparently wasn’t enough.

As the defender plowed into you again, you wondered what you’d done to deserve this. No one had left you alone today. You’d been violently tackled, shoved, pulled, and stepped on more times than you could count today and you were at your limit. Everyone could see it, too, in the way you robotically got to your feet, blinking hard, trying to brush off this blow too.

You missed Jona’s eyes on you, and the looks he exchanged with his coaching staff. You were supposed to play the full 90, and it was only the 70th minute. It was clear, though, that you couldn’t take any more battering, not that you’d ever admit that.

When you heard the whistle signaling the subs were allowed to come on, you looked over, a bit surprised to see your number on the screen. You should have been relieved, probably, but you couldn’t help but feel like you were letting the team down. You jogged off, accepting the high fives Mariona offered you, though you ignored the way the contact almost brought you to tears right there.

You walked over to Jona, as he’d called you over, even though you wanted nothing more than to disappear into the locker room and have a few minutes to yourself.

“Are you okay?” He asked kindly. “Do you need to get checked out?”

“No, I’m fine. Just a bit sore.” You dismissed.

Jona sent you a sympathetic smile. “You can head back in if you want. Let someone know if you need ice.”

With that, you turned towards the locker room and headed inside. The next hour was something of a blur. You showered and got dressed, before heading out to the bus. You were quick enough that you didn’t have to interact with any of your teammates, and theoretically, you could have let yourself have a few moments. Something inside of you wouldn’t allow that, though. You were forcing yourself not to cry on instinct, but the more you sat by yourself, the worse you felt. About yourself, about how you’d been playing. Everything. It was overwhelming, and the minutes sped by until it could have been minutes or hours. You didn’t really care how long it had been. You just wanted to go home, so you could feel what you needed to feel, all by yourself, like you were supposed to.

-------

You were too wrapped up in your thoughts, and trying not to cry, to notice that your teammates had started to file onto the bus. Esmee headed for you, both of you preferring to sit in silence on the way back from matches, while some of your teammates preferred to be a bit louder. As she got closer, though, she noticed the way you were sitting, all curled into yourself, practically a ball in your seat, and the way your entire body seemed tense. You were good friends, you and Esmee, but the girl felt wholly unequipped to deal with how upset you seemed. Thinking for a minute, she decided someone else would be able to deal with this better, so she turned around, ignoring the odd looks she got from everyone she’d passed on her way back to you.

Esmee was still rather shy with the older girls, although they’d been nothing but nice to her. Even though she felt a little awkward, she walked right over to where Alexia was sitting, chatting quietly with Patri.

“Alexia?” She said quietly, not wanting to interrupt the question but not really sure that she had any other choice.

The captain turned to her, though, always a bit amused by how nervous she made Esmee, but always careful to not make her feel bad about it. “Hola Esmee.” Alexia greeted with a smile.

“Hola,” Esmee replied. She looked back at you anxiously, and followed her gaze, sitting up a bit in the seat to look back at you, too. “Um… something isn’t right with her. She seems really upset. I didn’t really know…”

Alexia’s brows furrowed, mentally cursing herself for not thinking to check on you before now. The team had noticed how tense and off you’d seemed after the international break, but they thought you’d relax after a game back with the team. Clearly not.

“Thank you, Esmee, I’ll check on her, vale?”

Esmee nodded gratefully, stepping aside to let Alexia out of her seat, taking an empty one across the aisle. She appreciated that Patri gave her a quiet compliment on the game she’d had, before pulling out her phone, and allowing Esmee the silence that the Spaniard knew she always sought after a match.

-------

You were still completely oblivious, starting to get a little worried that you were going to cry right there on that bus, as opposed to once you’d arrived home, like you wanted. Crying in front of your teammates was the last thing you wanted to do, but you knew you weren’t going to be able to avoid it when Alexia slid into the seat next to you.

“Pequeña? What’s going on?” Alexia asked softly, noticing the way you refused to meet her eyes, your gaze fixed on your hands fidgeting in your lap.

You shrugged, for a minute unable to speak in fear that a sob would escape instead of words. “Long day.” You managed eventually.

Alexia nodded slowly. “Long couple weeks, no?”

“Yeah.” You said, clearing your throat as your voice cracked rather pathetically.

“Can I do anything?” Alexia asked almost helplessly. You looked so upset, so fragile, and she wasn’t sure how to help without touching you. She knew she always liked a hug after a rough day, but you were so different, and normally shied away from contact like that.

“I don’t know.” You said, wiping roughly at your face as a few tears escaped, the kindness from your captain not helping you keep it together. You wanted her to be able to help, but you weren’t confident she’d be able to.

“Do you want some space?” Alexia asked, even if the idea of leaving you alone like this made her want to cry herself.

You were used to dealing with your emotions yourself, but somehow, at the moment, you weren’t really embarrassed that Alexia was seeing you like this. You weren’t quite sure what you wanted, but you knew you didn’t want her to go. “No, please stay.”

“Nena… can I give you a hug?” Alexia asked after a minute, in a way that made it clear she wouldn’t be upset no matter how you responded.

What did you have to lose at this point? You were pretty sure you couldn’t feel worse. So, for once, you did the opposite of what you thought you should do, and nodded hesitantly.

It was instinctual for Alexia, and surprisingly for you, too. You were tense for just a second when she wrapped her arms around you, gently pulling you in closer to her. After a second, though, your body seemed to move of its own accord, completely melting into the arms of your captain.

You were crying before you could stop yourself, clinging tightly onto Alexia’s sweatshirt. It wasn’t bad crying, per say. It was cathartic. You thought briefly that this was the safest and most comforted you’d ever felt. Still, you tried to keep the volume down, not wanting to attract attention to the fact that you were sobbing into your captain’s sweatshirt.

“It’s okay, nena, just let it out.” Alexia whispered, her chin resting on top of your head. She rubbed your back softly, hating the way you trembled against her. She’d never seen you this upset before, but the way you leaned into her told her that this had been coming for a while. It also told her that even though you acted like you hated being touched, that wasn’t the case. She wasn’t sure why you didn’t allow it to happen, but it was clear you had needed it. “You are safe, nena. You are okay.”

Her words felt like a soft blanket being wrapped around your shivering body, and you felt that empty space inside yourself feel full for the first time in a long time. Maybe ever.

It made her heart hurt that she hadn’t thought to check on you, really check on you these past couple weeks. She had assumed that because you never talked about how you were feeling, you didn’t need to. She’d never considered that you did want to, and need to, but you were too afraid to do so. She made herself a promise to keep a closer eye on you. And to give you more hugs.

Even when you’d stopped crying, and the bus had begun to move, Alexia didn’t let go. She kept you firmly in her arms, your head resting on her chest. You couldn’t bring yourself to pull away, either, even though you knew you should.

You couldn’t help but feel sad when the bus pulled into the Barça parking lot. You’d acted completely ridiculously, and something like this could never happen again. You weren’t a child, you were an adult. The thought of removing yourself from your captain’s arms, though, felt physically painful, and you almost wished it hadn’t happened in the first place. Because now you knew what you were missing, and it would be near impossible to not let yourself seek it out again in the future.

------

You showed up to the recovery session the next day on a mission. You were going to apologize to Alexia for what had happened yesterday, and promise that it wouldn’t happen again. You weren’t going to cry and you were not going to act any differently than normal. You couldn’t let anyone see you as this pathetic person who was barely hanging on. You were strong and capable and independent. You were an adult, and emotions were to be felt by yourself. Hugs were for children, you reminded yourself, and you hadn’t needed one of those in a while. Or maybe, you just hadn’t gotten one in a while. Regardless, by the end of today, you were dead set on making sure everyone who saw you so upset yesterday would know that it was a one time occurrence.

Alexia had other plans. You really should have given up immediately upon seeing the determination on her face when she pulled you aside right before the film review session, but you were stubborn if nothing else, and you tried to remain as cool and calm as you could.

Even when she led you to one of the lounge areas, and took a seat on the couch next to you. Even when she squeezed your shoulder supportively, and all you wanted to do was launch yourself across the couch at her, and curl up against her like you had yesterday. You couldn’t. You couldn’t.

“I wanted to check on you after yesterday,” Alexia said gently, as if she knew you wanted to avoid this conversation. It didn’t matter that your captain hadn’t seemed to mind yesterday, your behavior still wasn’t okay, not at all.

“I’m sorry for how I acted. It won’t happen again.” You said stiffly, ignoring the sympathetic expression on Alexia’s face. It made her so sad that you felt you had to apologize for showing emotion.

“You do not need to be sorry.” Alexia said definitively. “You were upset, it is okay to be upset, pequeña.”

“I shouldn’t have cried in front of everyone, and I shouldn’t have made you sit with me.” You insisted.

The older woman frowned. “Why do you think either of those things were not okay?” Alexia wondered, choosing her words very carefully.

“I am an adult, Alexia, I am not supposed to act like a child.” You argued, not really sure what she wasn’t understanding.

Alexia knew she wasn’t the most emotionally available person, but she at least knew that it was okay to cry, and it was okay to need comfort sometimes. She wasn’t really sure why you didn’t seem to get that.

“I do not know who told you that crying and needing comfort is for children, but they are wrong. You can always come to me, or any of the girls, when you are upset, no matter what you need. None of us will think any less of you. We are teammates, and friends, and we are here for you. Understand?”

You were surprised at her words, and more surprised that they made sense. You knew who had told you those things, and you wondered why you had believed them on this, when you were normally so careful to take what they said with a grain of salt. Very suddenly, you realized you couldn’t remember the last time your parents had given you a hug, and things started to make more sense. It wasn’t an uncommon thing for you, realizing that something they had done was not normal, but this was a realization that made you a bit more emotional than the others.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to annoy anyone.” You replied quietly, looking down at your feet and away from Alexia’s kind eyes.

Your captain shook her head firmly. “You could never annoy us.”

Slowly, you nodded, accepting Alexia’s outstretched hand as she stood up and pulled you to your feet as well.

You moved to walk back to the media room, but Alexia pulled you back, a small smile on her face. “Hug?” She asked, opening her arms for you. “It has been a stressful day. One of my teammates does not understand how much we all love her and it makes me very sad.”

You rolled your eyes, feeling something deeply happy and hopeful bloom inside of you. You accepted the hug, falling into Alexia’s arms, squeezing her tightly. “She knows. I think she just forgets sometimes.” You murmured, your voice muffled in Alexia’s training top.

“Well, we will just have to remind her then, yes?” Alexia said, voice filled with determination.

And remind you, they did.

------

Their reminders, often unspoken squeezes of the shoulder and encouraging words, worked well. It wasn’t an immediate change, but rather a slow one. There were signs that you were opening up more. Everyone felt an inexplicable sense of pride when you did reach out to one of them, whether physically or more emotionally.

The first time was when Mapi returned to training with the team for the first time. She had greeted everyone with a hug, turning to you and holding up her hands for high fives. She had long accepted that you didn’t like to be hugged, and she’d been relatively absent in the time that had begun to change.

She was floored when you ignored her hands in favor of wrapping your arms around her in a tight hug. It only took a second before she was returning the gesture, though she looked in surprise towards Alexia, who just smiled back at her. Two big steps were taken that day, and Alexia wasn't sure she could pick which made her happier. You were sure that Mapi’s comeback was the highlight of the week for everyone, while Mapi was pretty sure your hugs brought good luck, because training went perfectly, for you two especially. Or maybe, the joy on both of your faces lit up the pitch, and made everyone play better. Happiness was odd like that, sometimes. Contagious and healing. Barça was a place of happiness, you decided. And of healing.

------

i know a lot of you were excited about this one, so i hoped it lived up to your expectations :)

#woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #woso

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symbioticsimplicity · 2 days

Text

Don't think about Blitz swallowing back tears to appear angry as he asks Stolas what the fuck the point of keeping this deal up was if he was just looking for a chance to throw him away when he gives him the crystal. Don't think about the face Stolas would make. DEFINITELY don't think about Stolas finally losing his tight hold on his tongue and shouting at Blitz about how it isn't fair to either of them. For Blitz to be trapped by something he doesn't want, or for Stolas who just wants someone to love and value him. How he just wants to mean SOMETHING to SOMEONE so that he doesn't feel like the utter waste of space he's always been told he was. Don't think about him dropping to his knees sobbing or about him berating himself for still being pathetic. Don't think about the violent revelation that would be for Blitz, about how he would suddenly see himself in this man he's convinced himself couldn't be any more different from him.

Don't think about Blitz just standing there and staring for a long moment, before half tripping over himself to drop down and hug Stolas. Don't think about the broken way he'd try to tell him that he gets it, he really really does, but his care and his regard are toxic. Worse than having no one. Don't think about Stolas telling Blitz that his presence in his life has always been one of the only two things to ever make him genuinely happy. Or how Stolas could tell him Blitz's presence, even at its worst has helped him grow into himself in ways he never knew he could, but had always dreamed to.

Don't think about the immovable object of Blitz's disbelief being slammed against the unstoppable force of Stolas' genuine admiration. Don't think about the way hope might begin to blossom in Blitz's eyes or about the way that confidence could creep into Stolas' voice. Because this, this is something he can do, he knows how to talk, how to persuade, when he means it.

Don't think about Blitz putting every bit of obstinate stubbornness in his body toward convincing Stolas that that isn't true. Don't think about Blitz finally airing everything he he's done wrong to everyone he's ever wronged just to make sure Stolas knows he's trash. Knows he's not whoever Stolas has built him up to be in his mind.

Don't think about the horror in Blitz's eyes when Stolas goes still in his arms. How, for no more than a heart beat, Blitz is sure he's done it AGAIN and is already set to snuff that pathetic flicker of hope Stolas momenttarily awoke in him.

Don't think about Stolas's soft, kind voice telling him he doesn't care about that. How he isn't afraid of being hurt, he'd take pain over loneliness any day, and if Blitz hurts him, he will only ever come back for more and more so long as he cares enough to give him that pain.

Don't think about Blitz being both flattered and now terrified because what the actual fuck is wrong with Stolas, didn’t he JUST leave a relationship like that, he's too goddamn good to have to put up with that, didn’t he learn, doesn't he see?!

Don't think about Stolas looking at Blitz with heartfelt desperation, or Blitz looking at Stolas desperate heart feeling. Don't think about Blitz, who wants love more than anything, who wants to be chosen more than ANYTHING, absolutely trembling in the face of true devotion. He has no idea what to do with it, but his whole life has taught him to be opportunistic and he wants.

Don't think about him asking Stolas, one more time, so quietly he barely even sounds like himself "Me?"

Don't think about Stolas looking at him like he's the most glorious being in the cosmos, don't think about the reverence in his tone or the affection in his eyes as he tells Blitz that it's always been him. Don't think about Blitz trying not to cry and losing, settling for at least hugging Stolas so he can't see. The way the owl would wrap his entire body around him, finally finding exactly what he's been looking for and incomparably happy for it. Don't think about Blitz telling Stolas that it hasn't always been him, but that he's the first one he's ever chosen to come back to.

Just some things you shouldn't think about.

#stolitz #wow this really became a flash fic didn't it #whoopsie daisy!#helluva boss #helluva blitzo #helluva stolas

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chaithetics · 2 days

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Devilish Worries and Bodies

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F (afab) reader Word count: 3.3K Warning/note: 18 + MDNI, mentions of anxiety/mental health/worries, and smutty smut smut! P in V intercourse. Some fluff. No description physical description of reader other than afab. Not proofread! Please validate me and this self-indulgent fic, sad girl era is thriving.

************************************************************************

Matt had already come home after a long day of fighting for justice through the legal, sophisticated, respectable way of the courts as the good samaritan lawyer for the voiceless and defenceless of Hell’s Kitchen. And then endured a long night of fighting for justice through the illegal, frowned-upon way of his vigilante persona, Daredevil. He’d come home, you’d helped him clean up the couple of cuts he had and he’d gone to bed now. He was sleeping peacefully, he looked like an angel as his eyes were closed and no worries were etched into his face.

He had been in a deep slumber by the time you left the bed, he was yet to notice. You hadn’t been able to sleep at all, and it wasn’t his fault that that was the case. You were now sitting on the sofa in the living room that felt even greyer and colder than usual. Everything felt so cold, you almost wondered if your vision was acting up. You just needed some rain outside and you’d be in Catherine Hardwicke’s blue-green-tinted world of Twilight.

You had a glass of water in your hands that was now room-temperature because you’d been sitting there so long. Holding it. Thinking. Thinking about just tipping the glass of water out onto yourself, because why not? Then that image would replay over and over. Then you’d sip from it. Somehow. Lower it. Back to holding and then back to thinking. It was still pretty full at this stage.

Staring out the window into the numerous lights that appeared to float mid-air, parallel to the sky at different points. You couldn’t see any stars, you hated that. At least if there were stars you’d have some luck of counting them, maybe trying to name some of them, in an attempt of some distraction technique you told yourself that a normal person could do. Then you thought a normal person probably wouldn’t even to do this. The voice in your head that said it, was mean, it was the kind of a high school bully which made you feel even worse. You let out a deep sigh and choke on a little sob that you didn’t know had been wanting to come out.

That’s the noise that wakes Matt up, he stretches out in the bed you share as he lets out a quiet but deep yawn as he tiredly rubs his eye. He moves a hand through his sleep-toussled hair as he immediately realises that you’re not in bed with him. He sighs as he focuses on the elevated heartbeat of yours he can hear drumming along further in the apartment. He immediately knows something is up, when he’d originally come home he thought something might’ve been bothering you as you seemed slightly detached but he’d been able to write it off as you just being tired because it was extremely late when he’d come home after a patrol. He couldn’t write this off as early hours fatigue though. He knew you, down to the core, even when you didn’t want to be perceived.

Matt gets up and slowly walks out of the bedroom with gentle footsteps, he could’ve been a ballerina in another lifetime. He’s so quiet with his movement after years of practice that you don’t notice he’s out of bed until he’s standing just a few steps away from the couch.

It’s when you get the feeling of goosebumps on the back of your neck and that feeling that somebody is watching you that you start to wonder. You’re not sure though if it’s just depressed paranoia that makes you feel like somebody is watching, Matt had absolutely passed out, he should be in a deep sleep still you think. But you try to slow your breathing and not given into the urge to look and further panic, but you think that if someone was behind you it’s better to look and know that there is or that you’re not just feeling depressed but also paranoid.

With a sigh after a sharp inhale you slowly turn your head and look, you see Matt standing there. He’s just a couple of steps away from you, he’s facing you and well… he’s not just facing you, he’s analysing you. You look at him with tears in your eyes as you know he’s doing a full scan of your senses.

Matt steps closer immediately and sits on the sofa right next to you as the first tear has just dropped. You’re not sure if it’s because he can hear the tear dropping out of your tear duct to run down your cheek, or if it’s because he can smell the extra stress hormones or something in these emotional tears.

“I thought you were asleep.” You whisper hoarsely, almost feeling ashamed at this scene happening.

“I was.” He says gently as he raises his hand to your cheek and then he gently rubs your cheek, wiping up the few tears had already shed.

“I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m sorry-” Now it’s guilt as well.

“Don’t apologise.” He quickly cuts you off in a gentle tone.

He’s caring but he says it so nonchalantly, like this is normal. He’d spent a day working with clients, then he’d had a violent patrol and now you having a mini-breakdown interrupted his sleep. You felt bad and you knew that maybe you shouldn’t because you’re a human and you’re entitled to a cry and love and understanding. And all those things. But brains aren’t logical, and they sure as hell aren’t when you’re going through the emotions. You sigh as you look at his face, seeing the compassion and adoration.

“Are you going to talk to me, beautiful?” He whispers with a gentle, playful smile. He’s trying to ease this. Diffuse the anxiety.

“It’s just overwhelming. There’s a lot of mental noise and I’m struggling to not spiral-because well I’m already spiralling and nothing feels good. I’m not good. I’m just not good.” You spit out.

He quickly pulls you into his arms and your face is pressed against his warm bare chest. You can’t help but let out a soft sigh of relief and bury your head further into his chest. It’s so comforting and even when you’re a mess, he still somehow knows how to comfort you.

“Maybe you’re not good, and you’re just great instead.” He whispers as he starts to caress your back gently, he seems to be almost tracing an invisible pattern as he does. “That’s how I feel about you. Other days you may be good. It’s been bad before, it’s been good before. It can feel good again, honey. And it will.”

You sigh and tilt your head to look at him as you move more into his lap and adjust yourself to be more physically comfortable. You trust him, you love him, you believe him but you’re not sure if you believe him more than the disbelief you have in yourself.

Matt seems to sense this hesitation in you. “Five things you see?” He asks softly as his head is tilted to face you, he’s focusing on you because you’re his whole world.

“Um…” You inhale and start to look around as you think. “Your face…” You say and almost chuckle, he smiles that charming grin widely and chuckles. “Good, what else.”

You look around and think. “The window… The couch… that plant in the ugly pot my cousin gave us.” You say and you both smile at that. You had to describe in detail the absolute atrocity of the pot to Matt when had been gifted to you both and it was now a bit in your relationship.

“Good, good, not so good.” He chuckles with the smile that’s slowly distracting you from your worries. “One more thing.” “Um, the light.” You say quietly.

“Four things you can feel.” He says and you can’t help but chuckle. “Well, you, I guess, and four different parts of you.” You say as you look at him as your cheeks heat up.

“Sure, I’ll give you that one.” He says playfully. “Do I feel good?” He then asks teasingly. It makes you roll your eyes and chuckle.

“Yeah.”

“So something feels good.” He says with a proud smirk.

“Don’t use my words back at me, like that.” You say as you watch him smile. “Mm, don’t say them then, pretty thing.” He says proudly and he chuckles and kisses your lips softly with a little peck. “Now should I keep going with the grounding and distraction technique?”

“I don’t know-”

“Why, are you in your body and out of your head enough?” He asks with a smirk as he caresses your back.

“Maybe. You’re pretty good at that.” You say, he is. He’s so good at reassuring you and bringing you back to Planet Earth and away from the galaxy of overthinking and mental black holes.

You lean against him and press a soft gentle kiss to his collarbone as he’s so close to you. All of him is, he’s enveloping you. He lets out a quiet little groan at that, that he tries to muffle but you catch it. You look up at him and bite your lip.

You move slightly and caress his strong arms gently. “Honey, are you sure? You’re… Well you’ve been upset…” He says softly. He means it.

“Yeah, but I’m feeling better now. And maybe the dopamine and oxytocin is just what I need.” You say matter of factly but still a little anxiously. “Oh really?” He cocks his head slightly and there’s a devilish grin on his face but his eyes are filled with love and adoration.

“Yes really.” You smiled softly as you looked up at him, you really loved him and you felt safe with him. Matt started to run his thumb along your jaw and down your throat gently.

You felt your cheeks heat up more and then you trailed your hand down his chest, his stomach, being careful to avoid any visible cuts or bruises on his pale skin. Your hand made it’s way down to palm him over his boxers. You watched his face carefully, his cheeks started to tinge with a blush and he smiled.

“Mm, no.” He said with a smirk and then he quickly flipped you carefully and gently so you were now lying on your back on the couch while his hand was firmly on your waist as he looked down. You sharply gasped as this happened but then let out a giggle which just made his smirk grow ten times more.

Matt lowered himself, caressing your waist gently and then running his hand down to your thigh and up again slowly, your breath started to slow in anticipation as you bit your lip, he was paying attention to your breathing and then he tugged your sleep bottoms down. Your cheeks heated up more at that as you looked down at him. He was completely focused on you now as his fingers danced around your inner thigh, spelling out invisible love letters and filth on your sensitive skin as you gasped at each touch. For a man with a moniker that had the word ‘devil’ in it, he sure was heaven of a man.

Matt started to kiss your thighs, as his fingers moved up, he then paused his kisses as he finally travelled across to your vulva and ran a single finger through your folds. It triggered an automatic soft moan that made him smirk for a moment as he then gently spread your folds.

His finger starts to travel more, he teases your hole with his index finger, circling it and almost going in for you to swallow him up but never quite, you feel your core clench up at this and don’t even realise that you’re holding your breath, waiting for him. Waiting for more. He keeps exploring, teasing, and pulling out soft moans and groans of anticipation from you, he starts to slowly insert his finger which makes you gasp and then he pulls it out. He brings the finger to his mouth and sucks on it, tasting your juices.

You gasp at this and watch him, you’d been watching him the whole time but now your eyes are absolutely glued to him. He then brings his finger mixed with your juices and his saliva to that sweet, sweet, bundle of nerves that’s craving his touch. He starts to circle it slowly in a clockwise motion, applying a little more pressure.

“You know, that tasted pretty good.” He says. He says it so confidently, the nature of his tones words, and what’s happening makes your cheeks heat up more as you let out some soft moans. “I should probably try it straight from the source, that’s what I need to do, isn’t it?”

“Oh Matt…” You can’t help but feel like you’re going to explode just from his words. But he’s already dived in.

Matt kisses along your vulva as he inserts his finger into your hole, lightly, almost teasingly. The kisses get closer and then he starts to lick. You’re almost squirming a little now, it feels so good, he’s not even at your clitoris yet, but his mouth and fingers is the start of an overwhelming heaven and you know that. You let out a loud whine and as you squirm, he moves his free hand to firmly hold your thigh, keeping you in place and he groans against you. The vibration of that is absolutely perfectly and you bite your lip, trying not to cry out, as you feel your eyes close as he licks your folds while pumping the tips of his index and now middle finger out.

After a loud whine he smirks and then moves his mouth to the sweet spot as he keeps lightly fingering you, he licks your bundles of nerves, slowly, almost painfully so, circling it with his tongue and then you feel him kissing it and then he starts to lightly suck on your clitoris. You whine out at that, desperately so, as you claw the side of the couch and your eyes start to roll back. He hums against your clitoris, he’s so perfect and he knows that you love that so much. It always feels so damn good and it does right now. The vibration of that humming perfectly gets you off every time and sends pleasure right from your core right down to your feet and up to your head.

Matt keeps humming, well aware of what it does to you, and hungrily sucks on your clitoris, like his life depends on bringing you to orgasm, that he is a man dying of a thirst that only tour sweet juices can quench, that your release will be his salvation. He keeps sucking and you feel your eyes roll back so much and you’re moaning so loudly as your back arches, he’s taking you to the peak and you can’t hold it back anymore. You whine out and grip the sofa more as he firmly holds your thigh, his fingers digging in as his mouth brings you to an overwhelming and incredible orgasm.

“Oh Matt!” You whine out as the pleasure from it floods you. He keeps sucking and licking, making sure he gets each last drop and makes the most of your taste that he’s obsessed with and needs. He slows down after your release as you pant quickly you can’t help but smile and as you look down and see his face move away, his chin and mouth is wet but his lips are curled up in a smile.

“You taste sweeter than anything I could ever dream of wanting.” He says as he caresses your thigh, there’s a slight flush in his face as he pants a little. Your cheeks heat up more at his words and as you watch him move.

Matt takes his boxers off and then quickly kneels on the couch, spreading your legs and you see his thick member aroused and hungry. He’s looking at you as moves closer, holding it and then you move your hand down, feeling it and the precum that’s already dripping. You help him line himself up.

Matt immediately thrusts in, he bottoms out quickly, you sharply inhale and he lets out a loud, perfect groan that’s music to your ears.

“Absolutely perfect every time.” He whispers and then he slowly starts to move as his hand moves up your stomach and to your chest as he holds onto a breast while his other hand is planted onto the sofa to steady himself as he moves.

You feel yourself clenching more around him with each thrust, his rhythm is steady but quick and you’re already so sensitive after the mindblowing orgasm he just gave you. Matt groans as his pace increases while he thrusts into you. You can’t help but whine out as he squeezes your breast and grunts out while moving.

Matt then moves so his body is flushed against you, chest to chest, he puts his arm under your head, almost cuddling you closer to him as his hips start to move ten times faster.

“Oh Matt, fuck…oh god…” You whine out loudly as he moves quickly and you’re so physically overwhelmed. He smiles at your reaction and groans into your ear, pressing his lips right against you to kiss your hair and moan into it as he fucks you like his life depends on it.

His hips are moving so quickly and it completely contrasts to how the way he’s holding you is almost so gentle. You wrap your arms around his back, almost weakly and then start to scratch his toned back as the thrusts become deeper and deeper. You feel so full.

“So perfect, so beautiful. I love you.” He groans into his ear as he keeps pounding into you. He’s a man in love and one that craves your body. He’s absolutely obsessed. “Your pussy is always so needy. I love it.” He groans into your ear as the thrusts become faster.

“I love… I love you… t-too…” You whimper out as he keeps thrusting. You bury your head into the crook of his neck as he keeps going, he’s squeezing you tighter. “I love you s-so-so much…” You feel his hips starting to sputter as the rhythm breaks up a little. He’s still thrusting quickly into you but he’s getting close.

“You feel so good, I’m not gonna last long beautiful.” He moans into your ear as he holds you tighter and keeps thrusting into you. You nod against his shoulder and neck, you knew this, and you have no issue with it.

You dig your nails into his back and scratch him, goosebumps run along his skin at your touch and his breath changes for a moment as his body trembles slightly and he gives one last thrust as he then releases. He groans out and you look up at him smiling and biting your lip, he always looked so handsome when he finished and he made the sweetest noises.

He groans and opens his eyes slowly, he looks at you and then immediately kisses you on the lips lovingly and comfortingly. He pants against your soft lips as he rests them there after the kiss. You run your fingers through his dark hair that now has beads of sweat from this exertion. This is peaceful, he loves you and you love him. You’re perceived, and somehow, that’s okay with Matt.

After a moment he kisses you again and then he carries you to bed, he’s your loving, protective big spoon as your mind finally quietens down and you get to enjoy a deep sleep next to your handsome devil.

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libraryofloveletters · 2 days

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Bound By Fate

Jenson Button x Fem!Teammate Reader

series summery: the strings of life connect two people; teammates, friends, perhaps lovers. Even when you think you’ve gotten rid of him, the strings of life pull you back in. some things are just meant to be.

author's note: this was prompted by god knows what but this is my new passion project. jenson girlies, this one is for you. shoutout to @mev33 for losing her mind over this with me <333

bound by fate taglist!

chapter one: united front

attached at the hip, jenson button and y/n l/n are the unstoppable duo. the same soul in two bodies. all but 4 points separating them. // “where you go, I go. What you see, I see. I know I’d never be me without the security of your loving arms, keeping me from harm. Put your hand in my hand and we’ll stand.” - Skyfall by Adele

chapter two: time cast a spell on you

spending nine months with someone is a long time, especially when you’re forced to be with them. feelings grow, both good and bad. - “Time cast a spell on you but you won’t forget me. I know I could have I loved you but you would not let me. I’ll follow you down ‘till the sound of my voice can haunt you. Oh give it just a chance. You’ll never get away from the sound of a woman that loves you.” - Silver Springs by Fleetwood Mac

chapter three: the blame is on you

two mclarens spin out, drivers at each other’s throat but only one’s to blame. what’s said on track doesn’t always stay there. - “It’s my own design, it’s my own remorse. Help me to decide, help me make the most of freedom and of pleasure, nothing ever lasts forever. Everybody wants to rule the world.” - Everybody Wants To Rule The World by Tear For Fear

chapter four: no grace

jenson can’t take it anymore; the back stabbing, the betrayal. he did what he thought was best and left. on what was supposed to be the happiest night of y/n’s life, she’s heartbroken and upset. — “I didn’t have it in myself to go with grace, so the battleships will sink beneath the waves. You had to kill me, but it kills you just the same. Cursing my name, wishing I stayed. You turned into your worst fears and you’re tossing out blame, drunk on this pain. Crossing out the good years and you’re cursing my name, wishing I stayed.” - My Tears Ricochet by Taylor Swift

chapter five: the final tango

y/n and jenson find themselves front and centre, smiling for the cameras in their sunday bests, yet their hearts are in different places. - “it hurts to be something, it’s worse to be nothing with you. I’ve done the math, there’s no solution. We’ll never last. Why can’t I let go of this?” - Promise by Laufey

chapter six: secrets of us

when all is said and done, it’s never really over, is it? jenson spills far too much in a tell-all interview that back fires on both he and y/n. - “And you don’t seem to understand, a shame you seemed an honest man. And the fears you hold so dear will turn to whisper in your ear. And you know what they say might hurt you and you know that it means so much, and you don’t even feel a thing.” - Duvet by Bôa

chapter seven: a chapter of me

four long years have passed, both y/n and jenson are in different places of life but they find themselves at Silverstone, together once again. jenson’s a commentator and y/n’s still a racer. seems the dust has settled. - “Just wanna let this story die, and i’ll be alright. We can’t be friends, but I’d like to just pretend. You cling to your papers and pens, wait until you like me again.” - We Can’t Be Friends by Ariana Grande

chapter eight: a glimpse into the past

people come and go, life moves on; that has always been your view. you can’t move on when your past comes back to haunt you. - “So I ask myself, do I let you go or do I keep you in the frame of my mind? Now I’m growing wise to your sugar coated lies, nothing’s sweet about my misery. Yeah, I finally found what went wrong, i finally found the wrong in you.” - On My Mind by Jorja Smith

chapter nine: twelve steps forward, one step back

the final race of your life, mixed emotions truly. your career was one out of a movie, you’re waiting for the final shoe to drop and when it does, it hits you hard. - “Isn’t it strange? I am still me, you are still you, in the same place. Isn’t it strange how people can change from strangers to friends, friends into lovers, and strangers again?” - Strange by Celeste

epilogue - chapter ten: the last bow

life post retirement is a funny thing, you thought you’d be having fun but you’re bored out of your mind. a solo trip results in seeing a ghost from your past. - “I'm sure we're taller in other dimension, you say we’re small and not worth a mention. You’re tired of movin’, your body’s achin’. We could vacay, there’s places to go. Clearly this isn’t all that there is, can’t take what’s been given. But we’re so okay here, we’re doing fine.” - White Ferrari by Frank Ocean

#bound by fate series #jenson button #jenson button x reader #jenson button x you #jenson button x y/n #jenson button f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #f1 series

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thewertsearch · 6 hours

Text

You go to one of the stairwell rooms and carefully observe the armor while you sketch it. You have secretly wondered whether your grandpa was actually Iron Man in his younger years.

I didn’t even notice the Iron Man suit when we first saw this room, but it's been here since the beginning.

We’re finally making power armor, something I've been urging the kids to do since Act 3. This thing can probably kill First Guardian Imps without Bec's help.

You lost your MAGIC CUE BALL in the explosion, so you will have to draw it and hope your modus knows what you're getting at.

I was wondering when we'd come back to Jade's cueball. The fact that it's missing is giving me the worst thoughts, and I'm not even sure I want to speculate about where it's going to show up next.

Knowing what we know now, I don't think it would be an exaggeration to say that it's one of the most dangerous artifacts currently in the Medium. We don't really understand how it's linked to Scratch, but it certainly responds to his call, and he could blow it up - or worse - at any time.

You can now see inside, and watch the dark water sloshing about the cavity in the globe. The predictions seem kind of lame when you can see all the other possibilities tumbling around in there.

It's similar, then, to how your decisions would start to feel a lot less meaningful if you became aware of countless timelines where you made different choices.

Kind of makes the fortune feel irrelevant.

yeah it's almost like luck doesn't actually m

#homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 5.2 #s105 #3150

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lyssak09 · 2 days

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when will you post yandere rick grimes 💕

Now 😂. I hope you and everyone else enjoy this! If you enjoy this please like, repost, and or follow me! Happy reading everyone 💙

Rick has always been attached to you, more so than he is to others, and it got worse when Lori died.

Ever since Lori died he’s been watching you like a hawk, even when you don’t realize it. Watching you sleep is both comforting and peaceful to him.

It makes his heart swell when he sees you taking care of Judith and Carl. Even if you didn’t like kids at first, Carl and Judith were different, and they needed a maternal figure. Which you happen to become without knowing.

After his mental breakdown, he starts to understand why he is doing certain things for you and why he has these feelings. It's because he loves you, more than anything.

And no, you’re not a rebound. His relationship with Lori wasn’t doing well and he already felt something for you when he first met you. It just wasn’t noticeable yet.

He becomes extremely protective of you, even paranoid. Rick will give you the safest jobs in the prison. Such as helping him with the garden, watching the kids, cleaning up cleared sections of the prison, and so on.

If you get too close to the walker gate he’ll flip. Yelling at you and killing multiple walkers (Who couldn’t even get to you really). Rick might start chaperoning your daily walks or observing from a distance because of the walkers.

You won’t be given scavenging missions. Even if you volunteer for one he’ll say no and have someone else do it. If you ask him why he doesn’t let you anymore he’ll just say “It's safer for you, and without you, Judith and Carl and so many of us would be lost without you.” Manipulative right?

He may go to great lengths to ensure that he is always a part of your life, even if it means manipulating situations or lying to keep you close.

He’s good at manipulation, I mean, it helped out a lot back when he was a sheriff. He’ll manipulate situations that cause you to be close to him or work with him, even though you already spend a lot of time with him, especially because of Judith and Carl.

Rick will also manipulate you, and your feelings. He’ll use fear, kindness, guilt, and so on to keep you with him. Maybe even try to make you dependent on him by manipulating you.

“You don’t understand, you’re the only mother figure Carl and Judith have now. You are too important and special to us, to me, to go risk your life on a scavenging mission, Y/N. Now why don’t you go help Carl with his schoolwork, he’s been asking for you. We can talk about this more later.”

You will not discuss it more later.

Rick will become extremely jealous. To the point, he’ll either subtly isolate you by giving everyone very different jobs from yours, or he’ll even quietly sabotage your relationships with others.

If someone shows even the slightest hint of interest in you he’s coming to mess it up.

“Listen here friend, I’ve noticed you’ve taken a liking towards Y/N. You should know that she’s taken, and wouldn’t go for someone like you in the first place,”

Did I forget to mention that you’re taken? By Rick?

You don’t know it but you’re in a relationship with him, whether you like it or not. Don’t get me wrong, Rick does understand that you two aren’t ‘technically’ together, yet. But that doesn’t mean you won’t be.

You’ll be his wife eventually, you just don’t know it yet.

Rick likes to keep mementos of you and his kids on him and likes to have some to decorate his cell, which makes it more like a home.

Found a pretty flower on your walk with Judith and want him to have it? It’ll be found pressed in one of his favorite books. He’ll borrow Glenn’s camera to take photos of Carl and Judith, making sure to get some with you in a few as well. He’ll make someone take a photo of all four of you, it’s a family portrait in his eyes.

Rick isn’t just overprotective of you because of your safety. But he is also paranoid that someone might take you from him. Anyone who gets too close to you might be seen as a threat, and he’ll have a plan to eliminate them if needed.

As time goes on his love for you grows and grows to a terrifying amount.

He’ll start to get violent if things are going his way, such as you not being affectionate back, you not realizing you’re supposed with him, or you’re being super oblivious. It makes him frustrated and angry, this shouldn’t be that hard for you! You two are meant to be! He’ll break things, take his anger out on walkers, or even yell at people in the group (even if they haven’t done anything).

He won’t ever hurt you, on purpose anyway, he would have to either been pushed to the edge or be going through another mental breakdown for him to hurt you.

Rick will be violent towards others though.

I think Rick could understand what he is doing is technically immoral, but he doesn't care, he’s doing this because he loves you. Or, I think Rick, who has been through so much trauma, is so delusional that he doesn't think he is doing anything wrong. You're his soulmate. Soulmates should be together. No matter what

Either way, he loves you more than life itself. He loves you more than he ever did Lori. He understands that now.

Despite his unhealthy behavior he genuinely believes that he’s doing this for your best interest, only he can keep you safe in this new world.

Rick knows everything about you, from your daily routines to your likes and dislikes.

The group is becoming concerned by his behavior, but they’re also a little too freaked out to mention it yet.

On the outside, it looks like Rick is a strong capable leader. But on the inside a darker unstable side of him lurks.

Rick becomes so dependent on you for his sense of identity and purpose that he can't imagine life without you. He believes that you’re soulmates destined to be together forever, and he'll do anything to ensure that you never part.

Another way Rick keeps you ‘safe’ isolates you is by gaslighting you. He’ll purposely allow you to almost get hurt, which he hates doing but it's to prove you need him, then he’ll save you. Even though you can handle yourself pretty well against walkers he’ll find ways to almost have you get hurt so he can save you and prove that you need him to protect you. Rick will gaslight you to no end. “You say you can handle walkers but every time you and I encounter them you almost get hurt or die. Now that's not handling them. It’s okay that you need help against them. I’ll always be here to protect you Y/N.”

He uses your relationship with Carl and Judith to his advantage. When you’re spending time with them or taking care of them he’ll come and join you or watch with a tiny smile on his face, this is one of the many situations he uses to spend time with you.

Rick is also secretly coaching Judith to call you mama, the thought of leaving him and his kids could never cross your mind if that's how they feel about you.

Carl starts to see you as a mom without Rick’s coaching. You helped take care of him and helped him grieve his mom. You help remind him that he’s still a kid, he gets to act more like one because of you. Carl will make it known to you that without you he’d have to grow up faster again and stop getting to act like his age again. Him telling you this helps Rick, not that Carl knows about it. Again, how could you leave them? Carl shouldn’t have to lose another mother figure, especially one that actually lets him be a kid. And it wouldn’t be fair to Judith for her to lose the woman who’s been caring for her since she was born.

Once you do catch on to Rick’s feelings and intentions and if you try to leave him he’ll remind you of these facts, that Carl and Judith can’t lose you too.

He’s the king of manipulation at this point.

Rick’s obsession with your safety is insane. To the point, he’ll risk his own well-being for you. I mean, that's what husbands are supposed to do, right? If food is running low he’ll give up his share to you and Carl, no matter how much you disagree or fight him on it.

Rick will never let you go or give you up. Even in the face of rejection or betrayal, Rick refuses to let go of you. He’ll become increasingly desperate and unstable, resorting to drastic measures to maintain his grip on you, including threats of violence or self-harm.

He may develop obsessive rituals or routines centered around you, such as constantly checking in on you, always eating with you, watching you sleep, or even hoarding items that remind him of you. These rituals help to reinforce his ‘connection’ to you Y/N.

Rick is extremely touchy, like oh my god. When he’s around you some part of him needs to be touching you. Like when you help him with the garden, he’ll guide your hands when planting or have a hand on the small of your back while he points out where he wants to add to the prison. He ‘accidentally’ brushes against you all the time.

When you’re sitting down and feeding Judith he’ll have a hand on your shoulder, he loves it when he has to squeeze behind you to get past you and he brushes against your backside, totally not because of inappropriate reasons.

He likes to look for things for you and the kids when he’s out scavenging. Giving you things is one of the ways he shows you he loves you, even though may not realize he’s doing it for that. Rick is in search of a wedding ring for you, he’s going to marry you, and you’re destined to be together.

If he’s scavenging with Daryl and they go past a jewelry store he’ll send Daryl ahead and meet him at their original destination. Rick just has to make a quick pitstop.

Once he finally confesses or you notice his behavior, he’ll expect you to finally realize that you’re together and will happily marry him. If you try to say no or gently get him out of the delusions he won’t take it well. Possibly falling into the delusions more, especially if you’re not getting you’re meant to be his and he was meant to be yours. Rick will explain your reactions with more delusions or false logic.

“You just don’t see it yet Y/N, we’re meant to be together. You’ll see it soon.

If push comes to shove he’ll make you his by force. Either clearing a secret part of the prison and preparing it for him, his kids, and his future wife. He’ll lock you in said cell block if needed. If that idea doesn’t work then Rick will find a nice secluded home somewhere for you guys. Hopefully, you’ll be compliant though so you guys won’t have to leave your new home everyone worked so hard on.

Rick rationalizes his behavior with twisted logic, convincing himself that everything he does is for Y/N's own good. He believes that he's protecting you from the dangers of the world and that she needs him to survive.

He’ll go to great lengths for you, including getting rid of anyone or anything in the way. Maybe that's why some of your fellow survivors haven’t come back from scavenging missions Rick sent them on?

Rick loves you more than anything Y/N, remember that.

“I love you with all my heart darlin, don’t ever forget that.” Rick declared with a smile, blood dripping down his face,

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere male #yandere headcanon #yandere the walking dead #yandere twd #the walking dead #twd #rick grimes #yandere rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #yandere rick grimes x reader #miss blue writing #rick grimes x you #yandere rick grimes x you

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bradshawssugarbaby · 2 days

Text

Take Your Time - Evan "Buck" Buckley x Reader

summary: Evan Buckley is getting ready for parent-teacher interviews with the parents of his kindergarten class. He wasn't expecting to hit it off with one of them.

a/n: this is my first 9-1-1 fic (and first non-TGM one in a long time) but I had this idea and after @sarahsmi13s and I discussed it, I went with it!

pairing: teacher!Evan "Buck" Buckley x single mom!reader

warnings/content: mentions of divorce, single parent, Buck getting a crush on reader.

word count: 2k

Evan Buckley let out a heavy sigh as he checked over the schedule he’d made for parent-teacher interviews. Teaching kindergarten was quite the change from the fourth and fifth graders he’d been used to, but so far, the seventeen little darlings in his class had been, for the most part, a refreshing new experience. He’d struggled initially, trying to find ways to entertain a classroom of five year olds, but after a week or two, he’d found his groove, settling in nicely in his new surroundings. The school district he’d transferred to was underfunded, a stark difference from the well-to-do private school he’d worked at for the previous three years, but, he appreciated the change - the private school circuit wasn’t for him, he’d learned, and the longer he stayed, the worse it seemed to feel staying in it.

Buck looked up at the clock and furrowed his brow. He had exactly 45 minutes before parents and caregivers would start filing in, eager to meet their son or daughter’s new teacher, probably reacting with shock or surprise to learn that a man was teaching kindergarten, like his new co-workers had done when he started. He wasn’t sure what was so strange about the concept, but for some reason, it felt like a lot of people couldn’t wrap their heads around the idea. He sighed as he got up from his desk and headed down the hallway, the sound of his footsteps echoing as he strolled down the empty corridor.

In the small staff lounge sat a few round tables and aged chairs, upholstered with vinyl and flattened padding, hardly comfortable to sit in for any length of time. On the counter sat a coffeepot that looked to be about as old as Buck was. He’d been hesitant to use it before, questioning both the sanitation and safety of it, but, if he was going to be hosting these interviews until well into the evening, he needed something to get him through the next four and a half hours. He just hoped that coffee would be strong enough.

Back at the comfortable familiarity of his desk, a mug of burnt, flavourless coffee in hand, he looks around the classroom, surveying the layout in an attempt to determine if he needed to make any last minute changes in the next twenty minutes of free time he had. He sighed, realizing there wasn’t much that could be done to improve the room with the small time-frame and limited budget. Twirling a pen between his fingers, he looked out the window, watching the clouds rolling in the California sky. Focusing his attention for a moment, he looked down at the stack of papers, neatly situated on the desk in front of him.

“Right,” he said to himself as he started sifting through the papers, ensuring each student was sorted according to the rudimentary schedule he’d made. “You’ve got this, Buck, you can handle it. A dozen and a half kindergarteners and parents. It’s fine.”

Right on cue, the first parent entered the room at 4 pm, escorting their young daughter in the doorway, ushering her to a seat. Buck stood from his seat for a handshake, awkwardly accepted by the parent. He sat back down and nodded his head. It was going to be a long night.

“Alright, Holly, are you ready to for Mommy to meet your teacher?” you asked your five-year-old as you stood in the hallway outside of her classroom.

It was later in the evening, the 7:45 slot being the only one you could make work with your hectic work schedule. Holly nodded her head excitedly, tugging on your hand as she tried to pull you into the classroom. You started cycling through a dozen of scenarios in your head, each one playing out how the parent-teacher interview was going to go. You knew very little about your daughter’s teacher, admittedly. You knew a form had come home with Holly on the first day of school, introducing them, but a coffee spill later, that form ended up in the trash before you had a chance to read it.

“Holly!” her teacher smiled warmly, crinkles by his eyes softening as he looked at your daughter. “I’m Mr. Buckley,” he nodded, extending his hand out to you for a handshake. “Mr. Evan Buckley.” He laughed, his cheeks turning red.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Buckley,” you smiled. His grip on your hand was firm, yet gentle. He dropped your hand after holding it a moment longer than he might’ve needed to, before taking his seat at his desk.

“Please, you can call me Evan,” He nodded, smiling as he took a seat. He gestured to the empty chairs in front of his desk, “Please, have a seat.”

Once seated, Evan folded his hands neatly over the stack of Holly’s school work. A pair of tired baby blue eyes looked at you, meeting yours with a softened expression. You could tell he’d been at the school for hours, probably wishing he’d chosen another career choice at this stage, having been stuck in this building since at least 8 am. His dark blonde hair was neatly brushed back, strands held in place with styling product. His dark green sweater accented his pale skin, cheeks rosy and pink from a little too much sun, the pale blue collar of his dress shirt laying flat against his sweater’s neckline - he somehow looked exactly how you’d imagined a male kindergarten teacher to look, and nothing at all like how you’d imagined all at once.

“Holly’s an exceptional student,” he began, nodding his head. “She’s always there to help her friends, and she’s been hard at work practicing the letters of her name. She’s been making some great attempts at writing her name.”

“She has, has she?” You beamed, looking over at Holly, who was now nodding proudly at you.

Evan produced a few sheets of paper with Holly’s name sprawled across the page in large, clumsy handwriting, on brand for a five-year-old child. He shot Holly a smile, sharing in the pride she’s showing for her work.

“It’s been a team effort, but Holly’s been able to write it by herself for a few tries. We just needed to figure out which hand she felt most comfortable trying to write with first, right Holly?” He smiled, flashing a row of perfectly straight, white teeth, a smile you’d expect to see on a poster in your dentist’s office.

Holly nodded her head in agreement as you and Evan continued to discuss Holly’s progress in school, how you’d been struggling the past six months since her dad walked out, and how you were relieved to hear that it hadn’t impacted her performance in school.

After what only felt like a few seconds of discussion, you looked over to see Holly yawning, her eyelids looking heavy with exhaustion. The clock on the wall said 8:20 pm - your meeting had gone 20 minutes over the scheduled time, and now, Holly would be getting to bed later than usual. Quickly, you stood up, shaking hands with Evan once again.

“It was nice meeting you, thank you for being so supportive of Holly and helping her settle into school.” You started, nodding your head. “I really appreciate it.”

Buck let out a sigh, the clink of metal keys against the ceramic dish on the table by the door echoing throughout his quiet apartment. It was 9pm on a Friday, and instead of going out with his friends, like most late twenty-somethings, he’d be tucked in on the couch within the next five minutes, takeout containers scattered across his coffee table. He set the paper carry bags on the counter while he rummaged around the kitchen for a clean fork. He knew he should have run the dishwasher before he left that morning, but in his hurry to make it to school early enough to allow time to set up for meeting parents all evening, he’d forgotten half a dozen things he’d planned on doing.

Settling for a plastic fork that he’d found in the back of a drawer, likely stored away from a previous takeout meal, he grabbed his food and sunk down into his couch, a heavy, exhausted sigh drawing from his lips. He began tucking into his dinner, tv remote in the other hand as he shoveled veggie fried rice into his mouth. Sports highlights droned on in the background, something about how the World Series was progressing, two teams Buck didn’t care enough about to pay attention to battling it out for the championship.

As he flipped through the channels, he found himself unable to focus his attention on anything. Well, almost anything.

The only thing his mind could focus on was the last parent interview he’d had for the night. The one with Holly’s mother - a newly single mom who was trying her best, but had to balance a hectic work life with an impending divorce and a five-year-old.

“Thank you for being so supportive of Holly and helping her settle into school, I really appreciate it.”

The woman’s voice echoed in his head, her gratitude evident on her face as she spoke. Buck couldn’t help but feel his heart swell with joy when he heard how she spoke so positively - a welcome change from the disdain and boredom he was met with from the vast majority of parents he spoke to. Blank stares and uninterested nods, “mhmm”s and a couple of “why are we even doing this? It’s kindergarten.” – but not with you.

With you, it was entirely different. Smiling and laughing as you talked, a sense of concern for you washing over Buck as he listened to your concerns about Holly’s transition into school now that your ex-husband had taken off. As he watched you talk, the prettiest set of eyes he’d ever seen fixed on him, your perfect pink lips pursing into the sweetest pout he’d ever seen as you thought, mulling over what Buck was telling you about Holly, dewy, sun-kissed skin accented beautifully by your floral print dress, a light, acid-washed denim jacket draped over your shoulders, framing your figure like a work of art.

The next morning, Buck rubbed his bleary eyes, blinking a couple of times to orient himself. He’d fallen asleep on the couch, again. It wasn’t unusual for him lately, most nights he ended up dozing off before he made it to bed, but usually, he woke up in the middle of the night, making a tired stumble up the stairs to the loft of his apartment where his bed awaited.

He frowned as he looked around the room, sunlight pouring into the living room, washing everything in a bright, golden glow. He sat up on the couch, eyes scanning the room for his phone. He reached down behind a couch cushion, pulling it out with a tired grunt as he stretched muscles that had tensed through the night. His blonde eyebrows furrowed at the time, sighing as he realized the time. He settled back down in the cushions, scrolling aimlessly on social media, trying to catch up on updates he’d missed from friends from past week.

Buck froze when he saw one of the pictures, shared last Saturday, a familiar face smiling at him from the screen. He checked who posted it –- the girlfriend of a friend of his – and his eyes widened as he saw the name of the person tagged. Confirmation that it was, in fact, you. His palms began to feel clammy as he realized you were a friend of a friend, that, if he’d gone out with his friends last weekend, he would have met you under different circumstances, shared a couple of drinks, and, maybe, invited you back to his place if you were interested.

Now, however, things were complicated.

Dating the parent of a student wasn’t entirely forbidden, was it?

#evan buckley x reader #evan buckley #buck x reader #buck 911 #buck #evan buckley 911 #evan buck buckley #evan buckley x you #evan buckley x y/n #buck x you #buck x y/n #evan buck buckley x reader #evan buck buckley x you #evan buck buckley x y/n #911 fic #911 fanfic #9 1 1 #9 1 1 fanfiction

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somber-sapphic · 2 days

Note

I’ve been laid up in bed all weekend with some chest thing. I think my body is trying to get bronchitis. I just want Maya and Carina to take care of me. Any chance you could write a Marina taking care of reader for me?

Waiting For Morning

〖Summary: Carina and Maya watch over you while you sleep.〗

〖Word Count: 795〗

〖Pairing: Marina x sick R〗

〖Notes: Hi anon! I'm sorry you're not feeling well :(. Drink lots of fluids, rest and please go to the doctor if you need to. I hope this helps you feel a little better <3〗

“Maybe we should take them in,” Maya whispered, trying very hard not to disturb you from your fitful slumber. You had finally managed to fall asleep, but it wasn’t restful in the slightest. You were still coughing even in your sleep, it was a wheezy rattling sound that took so much energy out of you.

She had told you to keep an eye on that cold, Carina had done the same. When they had first started to fuss over you it felt so unnecessary. The common cold was something you could brush off. Until it wasn't. Something about this cold had been different, you hadn’t thought much about the clinging cough but when the fever struck you knew something was wrong.

“No, not yet. They need to rest. We’ll keep an eye on their breathing and temperature, if it gets worse we can take them.” Carina replied, shifting ever so slightly to help you get more comfortable. She had surrendered herself as a living body pillow hours ago, abandoning the nice dinner that she had been attempting to cook.

Maya didn’t seem convinced; her face had been pinched into a concerned expression since you had started to deteriorate and she refused to leave your side. While you clung to Carina she clung to you, worried that something would go wrong the second she took her eyes off you.

“They’ve been getting worse!” Maya hissed, tucking strands of hair behind your ear, periodically brushing a thumb against your cheek.

It was something she’d started to do after you’d had a nightmare and she picked up the habit after noticing how well it calmed you down. Now, whenever you were stressed, had a bad dream, or were sick she’d stroke your cheekbone and brush your hair behind your ear. The combination always worked.

You stirred, waking to a coughing fit that just couldn’t be ignored. You curled yourself into a ball and coughed into Carina’s side, not fully aware of her surroundings. The brunette didn’t protest, she and Maya just rubbed your back and waited for the fit to pass.

When you finally pealed your eyes open with a small sniffle you looked up into the face of the doctor who smiled back at you. For a moment you considered apologizing but you were too tired. You knew she didn’t care anyway so apologizing wouldn’t matter.

“Hello, my love. How are you feeling?” You grunted in response and shrugged, rolling to your other side to face Maya. The blonde kissed your forehead and the tip of your nose, doing her best to make you smile. It worked, it always worked. Even when she was stressed Maya could always make you smile.

“Time’sit?” You croaked, pulling yourself up onto your elbows. The small movement made you dizzy, and you regretted whatever urge decided that you needed to move in the first place. Your whole body hurt, your lungs aching alongside the rest of your muscles.

“A little past two in the morning. Can you tell us how you’re feeling?” Maya asked moving closer, to help prop you up. You leaned against her and shrugged again, already letting your eyes shut for another moment.

“Not great. Why’re you guys still up?” You reached blindly for Carina, hitting her lightly until you found her hand to hold. Her hands were soft and warm in contrast to Maya’s calloused palms. The two were polar opposites, sometimes it surprised you that they managed not to kill each other at the beginning of your relationship.

“It’s hard to sleep when someone you love is sick,” Carina said, cringing at her words. “God that was corny, wasn’t it?” Maya laughed and your lips quirked up in a smile. It was corny, but you loved it.

“It was pretty bad.” You admitted, lowering yourself back against the pillows. This time you dragged Maya with you so that you were sandwiched more comfortably between your girlfriends. You sniffled tiredly and shivered, your discomfort reemerging.

Carina brought the blanket up over your shoulders and Maya kissed your shoulder, both of them doing the best they could to help you feel better.

“If you aren’t breathing better in the morning we’re going to Grey Sloan.” The brunette decided, her anxiety winning over what she knew was likely something that could clear up on its own. She was okay with being overprotective when it came to you. Maya nodded her agreement, but you had already started to fall asleep again, not noticing her reaction.

“Get some rest for now. We’ll see how you’re doing in the morning.” The firefighter wrapped an arm around your waist, spooning you against Carina. The three of you lay like that in a warm cocoon, your girlfriends joining you in sleep only moments later.

#sickfic #sick fanfiction #sick reader #fever whump #maya bishop #maya x carina x reader #maya x carina #carina deluca #carina deluca x reader #marina x reader #marina #sick fanfic #sick you #sick y/n #sick character #caretaker #station 19 sickfic

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t8oo · 2 days

Text

By all accounts the lupin fandom has always prided itself as a drama free ship war free open to polyamory and wildly different headcanons fandom. And I can name a few people that have worked hard to keep this place very friendly. And I really started in this fandom in a friendly place. I even managed to make friends that Liked Luzeni maybe even just as much as me. I was ecstasic. I really loved those people so much, I talked to them daily. Some of them I respected so much for their craft. Great.

Id always been upfront and very clear that they were befriending someone who was fucked in the head. And i dont mean seasonal depression type I mean Bipolar and Bpd and all the symptoms it entails. Im not even going to mention the upbringing and the life ive had. All of it was a complete and violently abusive catastrophy.

Last year I exhibited symptoms that were intense. TOXIC. It didnt mean that I was toxic to my friend, because I was rational enough to know about boundaries. I was at the end of my rope. For undisclosed reasons I had to be interned. Great. During the ultimate time that lead me to become crazy, not a single person i thought was my friend gave me a hand. I received a message from one friend while I was litteraly perched on the windowsill about to jump telling me about their life. Not asking abt me. I sent some Hey thats cool but im about to kill myself and they didnt reply. Days after I was interned they told me that my message triggered them so they had to have an emergency meeting with their psychiatrist. Cool. Nothing abt me still. Sorry ? Fallout 1

During yhat whole shitstorm and despite everything a friend became my like. favorite person in bpd terms. Just really fucking embarassing shit really. I tried to prevent it, i tried to pull out not to make it worse, which not only was making it worse but was making it toxic. I aparently blew out, which of course my memory conveniently forgot. I said something ahout their partner. They never explained what. Again, after internment I apologized. They told me they needed time. They bsolutely deserved it. I was probably horrible to warrant that reaction. I might even have been toxic. Again, I do not remember what I even said. Im not a demonic entity it couldnt have been like I desacrated them and insulted them beyond repair. Even in my anger I have always been limited. But all i can do is speculate. They never explained, just took my apology. And then They never came back. That friend I liked so much that despite everything I did to control myself became a person i liked beyond wat was normal. We have had so much fun. Not enough to mend bridges or explained anything. Fallout 2

During that blow out one friend meddled, asking that other friend for information ? I asked to pass along a message to friend B. which friend A refused. Like it was not their business, even tho they were clearly invested in the business enough to talk to both of us about it lol. No problem. 4 days ago thou i confronted a group of friends that were friends As friend, for kicking them out of an rp group for no reason, even bordering on racism. My friend feels hurt about that event, has always hinted at it. it even stopped them from rping, something they did for 12 years. They had no closure and so I tried to bring it to them. Asshole move or empathic ? Thinking back i may have been taking the situation personnaly because i was already on my way out menrally. I dont know. All i know is that four days later, after i talked for hours to that group and the reason why they treated my friend so poorly that they still had scars over it, i was experiencing a mental crisis and that friend refused a request. Great. Fallout 3

The last friend litteraly stood by and said nothing. Not before the fallout and not after. I dont even know'if that counts as a fallout. This girl was so cute, so fun, so talented, so FUNNY. And when it came to a heed she said nothing. No side taking. Neutrality. Okay

At this point I no longer had anyone to talk to I think. I was documenting my attempt and the horrible conditions of the psych ward on twitter for everyone of my "friends" to see. One i particularly loved so much because they genuinely were on the same level of insanity related to luzeni made a tweet about the late hystix, a person i did not know but a lot of the lupin fandom did. A beautiful soul that was always supportive and kind. Everyone was mourning her. It was truly heartbreaking. I hope she is in peace. Our attempts matched in timing, it was actually mindblowing. Mine just fucking failed because of nosy neighbors. I feel so close to her in spirit still. That we both struggled so much that we came to the conclusion that nothing could save us. She did not have the nosy neighbors. That friend mourned her publicly.. on twitter. Ok. Logical, its a depressing, horrible and sad situation all around. All we can do is mourn. Still, it was a friend I was genuinely close to. That never showed the empathy they did to me. Hey dude so im kind of facing the exact same issues but you never reached out ? While my torment was there and documented on twitter because again. I did not fucking know wat was going on. I was in a strict mental ward under a lot of dosage from nurses who refused to give me insulin even thou i was type 1. Friend said that they tweeted at me. No mention of the years and years of discussions we had on discord and me checking up on them everytime they pulled out for severe family matters and i was genuinely concerned. Nope they aparently tweeted something at me. Okay. Thank you for the concern. Your investment really shows. Fallout 4

after that I stopped friends all together. The fact that friends I was talking nigh on everyday to each revealed their lack of concern for me during an extreme mental health crisis was abyssmal to say the least.

Fallout 5 came with Sheen. I was managing a charity zine for Palestine, and the lack of investment from so many artists brought me to the edge. I took it out on Sheen in the softest way possible. I told them I was disapointed in their piece and that it looked low effory. Sheen, a person I had knwon for the entirety of my investment in the lupin fandom, decided that an offense was enough to block me and never speak again. Once again i was on the verge of yet another blow out. And it happened. Lol. Its just so funny in retrospect that everytime I start acting weird alluding to a breakdown people shun me out despite, you know. me being clear abt my medical record. I realized that I was rude to Sheen and it was uncalled for. Apologized publicly not in the attempt that Sheen sees it but just so that everyone knows that if they hear abt the story, at least they know its all been my fault. Online friendships are so cool because it just takes the block button to burn bridges without coming back. With no chance of mending or at least a genuine apology. so Fallout 5

Is there a reason that all of these issues happened within one fandom ? I do think so. Unless i am incredibly unlucky. Or an abusive piece of shit unbeknownst to me. I think that the lupin fandom is surface level niceties. If they dont like you you will know. It will be passive but you will be muted and eventually just ostracized. You will not be invited in fandom events, or group discussions. It did not help that my mental health was constantly deteriorating and I started developping a persecution complex, thinking that people were making secret discords where they were telling others to avoid me or something. Ive endured all of this for one thing. One Humiliating thing : i love luzeni. I love it so much I want a tatto of it. I love it so much that after years before sleep I pick a random fic and then imagine their discussions. I love their dynamic so much. I love their romance I love how fucking inhinged they are i love that they hurt and love each other the same, i love that they cant live without the other, that they genuinely complete each other in a really ugly but complete patchwork of mental illness and really elaborate kinks.

I gave up thou. Another depression, I blew out, attempted again with the window, got caught and sent to the hospital. It pulled me back from the fandom. I realized i was allocating so much of my thoughts to it and how I could be better perceived, how I could make friends again to talk about the fictional thing i loved the most in the world. And I realized that in giving up and keeping to myself, that I could be more stable. That the damage was done and I cant really enjoy this fandom anymore, but Im still attached to the hip to luzeni and so in the words of a really brilliant man... Nah... Ill do my own thing.

U might be wondering why the hell is this bitch airing their laundry publicly. Its therapeutic. You dont have to read or care. If those friends see it, and make a comment of their own about how the events did NOT happen like I told, I would love to hear how they perceived it. I do not give my friendship freely and easily and these people have done profound damage to my abilty to trust. And most of all, I never had any closure. I kept rethinking, blaming them, then myself, then miscommunication, then them and then myself again. To this day I dont know why all of this happend. Did I act like an unfathomable monster, or did my friend simply not give a shit enough to help me through this. I dont fucking know and I cant deny either options. Maybe I am talking through a completely selfish wrapped sens of perception that is not to be trusted. I wouldnt be surprised. I have a very hard time relying on my own brain lately. My health is deteriorating very fast, and shit is getting worse.

The second reason is that I am going to be interned for psychiatric issues for the next 3 months. For the first time in my life I think Ill finally get all the professional support i need, available and close. Im not going to be investing any time in the fandom, if simply talking to the psychiatrist abt this catastrophic strings of fallouts. I might be posting some luzenis, but frankly i doubt it. I only make fanart when I am happy, or sad enough but still capable. Im neither right now. You are not entitled to any of these informations, but I just wanted to write them out of my mind because I have a LOT of baggage to go on through and this is an extra bag I dont need so im throwing it out.

You cannot gauge an entire fandom from your perspective, the same way you cannot gauge an entire userbase. No, tiktokers are not the worst people in humanity. Neither are reddit users. Being on tumblr is cool, but it doesnt make u better than being on twitter. And so this is only my opinion of the lupin fandom. I met some amazing persons that i wish the best for, for ever and ever, but in all the niceties and welcoming you might see, I dont think that extends to a person with mental illnesses that are villified, or out of their control. I can fairly say that my experience was disapointing, and I dont intend to rekindle anything. Ill just be on the fringe maintaining the spirit of luzeni alive because fuck you monkey punch these are my characters now by law.

If you read until this bro get a life. Also im joking, youv given me more consideration than most people i met have. If your take after this is that I am deranged, then youv read right.

Thank you for reading. This blog has always been a pleasure to post on, even my most cringe and embarassing shippy stuff. Ive been met with nothint but support, and I truly enjoy being here because of you. I hope this isnt a 3+ month long goodbye. I hope I draw my lovers again. But I cant guarantee anything. I wish you all health most of all, and love and compassion.

#evacuating emotional baggage through a long rant that you dont have to read #this post is for me and me alone really. i feel better after writing it. thou rverything is still catastrophic #there will be grace

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