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#i will support you from the sidelines is what i'm saying
weird-and-unwell · 3 months
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“Autism isn’t a disability”, “it’s just a difference”.
I am of lower support needs. I hold down a (part time) job. I have travelled around my home country. I live alone.
At work they complain about my speech. I’m too quiet, they say, “barely audible” is the words used at my autism assessment. My voice is all monotone, and it needs to be more expressive. I get this complaint every week for a year straight, until my manager gives up. I don’t attend trainings because I forget and find it overwhelming anyways. My coworkers form friendships, and I watch them talk, wondering how they make it look so easy. I get a new manager, I tell her I find the work socials too overwhelming to attend. She tells me I can just say I don’t want to come. I don’t know how to tell her that I desperately want to, to be like the rest of my coworkers, instead of constantly being the one sat on the sidelines.
I come home, and I can hear my neighbours again. The niggling background noise messes with my head, and I meltdown; I throw myself on the floor, I hit my head on the ground repeatedly as I scream and cry, tear out my hair and scratch my arms and face. When I complain, people tell me that I just have to accept that neighbours make noise, that I should just ignore it, or block it out. I am the problem, the one overreacting. I put in earplugs and it hurts and I'm crying again. I wear headphones but I can't handle the noise for that long.
I have reminders set for everything. Every chore, no matter how big or small. My phone beeps at me, reminding me that I need to wash the dishes. If I don't go now, then tick the little box on my phone to say I did it, it won't get done. My home is almost always a mess despite this. It's not just chores either. I won't think to wash, dress myself, brush my teeth or hair, without those reminders. And unless someone actively prompts me to do so, I will do those tasks "wrong". I haven't changed my underwear in a month, and I'm currently aware that's a problem, but within the hour I'm going to forget all over again until I'm next prompted.
I can't sleep without medication - it's not unusual for autistic people to have messed up circadian rhythms. Without my medication it's hard to even tell when I'm awake and when I'm asleep. When I was younger and at school I slept through so many lessons, and when I have my mandatory breaks from my sleep meds I sleep through every alarm I set. I want to work full time some day, and I'm terrified of what my sleep issue will mean for me then.
I don't travel independently. I don't travel anywhere alone, always with someone or to someone. If to someone, I have assistance the whole way. I find it embarrassing sometimes. Yes, I have a job that requires a certain level of intelligence. No, I cannot get on a train by myself. If I am not shown To The Train, To My Seat, I will be unable to travel.
Last time I travelled, I was left alone at the station for ten minutes. I stayed rigid and sobbed the whole time. I was overwhelmed. It was too loud, I didn't know where I was or where I was meant to be going, and until the assistance person came back I couldn't do anything because for some reason I cannot understand it.
I spend a lot of time trying to explain to people that despite my relative competence, I am unable to do many things. Why can I understand high level maths but not how to get on a damn train? No fucking idea.
"Autism isn't a disability" most severely affects those with higher support needs, and this is absolutely not to take away from them. But for fucks sake, autism is disabling.
Maybe you personally are extremely lucky and just find you're a little "socially awkward", or just find some textures painful or nauseating. Maybe you would be fine with just a couple of adjustments.
But for a lot of us, even lower support needs autistics, it doesn't work like that. I will never sleep properly without medication. I still have the self-harming type of meltdowns as an adult, over things that are deemed as being "just part of life". I live alone but have daily visits from family - if I'm left fully alone I forget all the little daily things one is "meant" to do. I had speech therapy as a child to get me to the "barely audible" "mostly correct" speech. I don't mask, I'm not really sure how I would to begin with.
I'm not unhappy with being autistic. It's just who I am. Life would be easier if I were neurotypical, but I also wouldn't be me. I just wish those luckier than me could...stop saying it's all chill and not at all a disability.
Because yes, socially, I am "awkward". I obviously don't make eye contact - I stare down and to the side of whoever I speak to. People think it's weird or creepy or a sign of disinterest. My autism assessor wrote down about how I often use words and phrases that don't make sense to others, even though they make perfect sense to me. In my daily life this means I'm frequently misunderstood, and have to try explain what I mean, when what I mean is exactly what I said, and the true issue is that what I mean just doesn't make sense to others. I gesture, at times, but again, my gestures apparently don't make sense in relation to what I'm saying. I take things literally, I have almost no filter, and I can't explain how I go from topic to topic.
And yes, I do have sensory problems. Sometimes people, including others with sensory problems, tell me that "sometimes sensory issues have to be tolerated", and I wonder what they think of as being sensory issues. I'm sure they do struggle, but if I say I can't handle a touch, I mean you will need to forcefully hold it against me for me to touch it more than a second and it will make me meltdown. If I say "I can't eat that", I mean that I am unable to swallow it, that I will gag and choke and inevitably spit it back out, as much as I try. If I say I can't handle a noise, I mean I'm so close to a meltdown and my meltdowns are a problem for everyone around me.
But yes. Autism. Not a disability. Just a fun quirky difference.
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eustasskidagenda · 7 months
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hello!! ^^ this is my first time requesting, so hopefully i'm doing this correctly :;
can I request a trafalgar law/reader hurt to comfort oneshot, where the two of them get into a really big argument or fight and reader decides to leave him alone for a long time, so THAT eventually leads to some problems between the two and Law has to make things right??
(basically reader gives law the silent treatment, and law is too prideful to admit his wrongs)
thank you in advance!!! I've really enjoyed reading your kid works, so i'd be happy to see more of your writing :)
☆Trafalgar Law x Reader giving him the silent treatment after an argument 
Hello dear anon, don't worry, you did it perfectly and thank you so much for your request. I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope it will match your expectation. Enjoy our dear emo boy!
CW : g/n reader, hurt&comfort, Law is bad at express how he feels, let me know if I forgot something
WC : around 2,000 words, whoops, I love Law way too much, I got carried away
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Law is not a man of many words. That's the less you can tell. Always quiet about his plans, sometimes, you still struggle to understand what's going on in this beautiful mind. Usually, you just deal with it, supporting him as much as you can. But today, it's too much to handle. He is perpetually busy all day and night, and sometimes the bed is cold, and you know he didn't sleep with you. It hurts. You just have the feeling to carry on with this relationship alone. 
"We need to talk, Law." Busy with probably another shenanigan you don't know about, he totally ignores you and continues to read his newspaper. Again. Heavy-hearted, you close your eyes and clench your firsts. You can't step back and always try to round the corners. "Law", you insist. He finally drops the newspaper. "What, y/n-ya?" He asks, annoyed by the interruption. 
"Honestly, lately… I feel totally sidelined. You're always focused on your plans I don't nothing about, or busy with your patients. And it hurts" Law looks surprised by your words. Usually, you're more the one trying to smooth the things and trying to be super-comprehensive, because you do love Law, and you know he had been through a lot. Supporting him is the least you can do. But what about you? Your emotions? 
"I've not neglected you, y/n-ya. I'm just busy." Yes. That's the whole point. "You're always busy. If you don't need me anymore, just say it," you snarls, anger slowly heating your chest and burning your cheeks. Communication is maybe the key, but it's a struggle to communicate with someone as reserved as Law. The worst? You know he loves you. He's just… an aloof. Always distrustful. "Answer me," your voice is shaky from both anger and distress. " I have things to do, y/n-ya. Don't act like a child. I still feel the same way about you, and you know. " 
Maybe it's true, but you don't believe him anymore. You don't even remember the last time you kissed that sweet lips on him. And the feeling of his fingers entwined with yours, when you redraw the lines of his tattoos, cuddling with him in bed. How can you feel the absence of someone you see every day? "I miss you," you confess. "But I'm right here. With you. I need to get those things done, so please be patient." Why can't he understand? With that unreadable face, he's still sitting on his chair. What's going on his mind? "What things, then?" He sighs. "I can't tell." 
No. It's enough. Now, you're mad. "Stop pushing me away! I miss you. Do you realize the absurdity of missing someone I can see every day? It's been four days since we last slept together! This morning, you didn't kiss me! You're always taking me for granted and I feel like I'm transparent!" At last, you manage to get a response from him. He removes his hat, runs his hand through his hair, and his eyes darken as your anger is about to explode. "Can you not be patient? I need to… finish what I'm working on. "
No.
Not this time.
He has already stated that too many times before. Before Dressrosa. Before Wano. You already waited way too long. Even for someone as patient as you, it's too much. " I'm tired," you confess, the voice which with emotions. "It can't keep going like this. Why am I always the second choice for you?"
Maybe it's because you always give everything you have to him. Supporting him, regardless of what. You had to break his armor several times to get closer to him, despite his distant and detached personality. The moment he finally confessed about his past was beautiful. The nights you spend together, simply talking about your lives, goals, and dreams, are rooted in your heart. A warm memory of two souls bonding and finding comfort through words and confession. Now, everything is just fading away. And you hate how angry and confused you sound, when Law is just as calm as always. Does he even notice what you just said? You can't tell.
"You don't even answer me. Such a shame to be named heart pirates when you don't even have one." you explodes, shouting the words.
"I don’t think it's the right time to talk about this because you're too emotional y/n-ya. "
"And you're too logical!"
The saying goes that opposites attract, but you're not so certain anymore. 
"I'm just so fucking done!" Now, you're screaming and Law growls, "Shh, don't yell, everyone will hear us," he says, caring way too much about his privacy. "I don't care! Just say something! " He looks so tired, with his usual dark rings under his eyes. "Leave me or not, but do something because I'm so done with this shit. I'm the only one trying to communicate and make things right!"
You slam the door of his small office with anger and tears prickling at the corner of your eyes. He doesn't follow you. He remains confined, choking on his own pride. He probably thinks you will be back soon, as always after an argument. But not this time. You're really done. It's his time to make some efforts, to prove that he actually cares about you and your relationship. 
At the diner, he doesn't show up. During the night either. It's not easy to distance yourself from him. But you will not change your mind. After three days, he finally starts to realize that you will not come after him. 
Why aren't you bringing him his morning coffee, massaging his tensed shoulders, and spreading your stupid concealer under his eyes? All those small actions you always do to lighten his burden as a captain… damn, he never felt that lonely. But what can he do now? How can he fix the mess he made?
The Polar Tang's ambiance is as cold as a winter island after a week. Everybody noticed the huge tensions between you and the Law. The captain is irritable, barking orders at everyone and looking for you everywhere, but you're just hiding from him. He's exhausted by this situation. He's starting to understand what you said: he misses you, even if you're here. 
It's becoming too much for his tortured soul after 10 straight days. The pain in his heart is unbearable. In reality, he feels like a child he never had the chance to be: terrified, lost and alone. Are you going to leave him too? Why is everyone around him always dying or disappearing? Is it always his fault? Now, he feels miserable, almost crying alone in his office. He can't even focus when Bepo asks him to bandage a small wound he just made. His hair is messy because he runs his hands through it too much. Law sighs heavily. His nerves completely fading away as he struggles to bandage Bepo. Why the hell is he crying over a poor bandage? 
He's exhausted. Physically and mentally. An he misses you. Deeply. He understands everything you said that day. He understands how you have felt lately and it's a horrible sensation. You didn't deserve the way he pushed you away from everything. He misses the warmth of your body, the passion in your sweet kisses, and your hands redrawing his chest tattoo. 
He needs to make things right. 
In this situation, what Corazon would have done? 
Probably running after you after slamming the door, falling miserably on the ground, and crying pathetically with an ugly nose running. Law frowns. But at this point, he's so desperate that he wouldn't mind crawling and begging for your forgiveness. He stumbles out of his office, tired, and looks for you. How can you hide on such a small ship? "Have you seen y/n?" He asks to everyone and they all they say no. Are they lying? Where have you gone? Did something happen to you? Poor Law is so stressed right now, more than usual. He spent the entire day looking for you and failed. Is it too late? Have you just left? Without a goodbye? No. It can't be. He needs to see, kiss, and hug you. Just one more time, just one last time. Even if feels that he doesn't deserve you. 
He slams the door of the bedroom you used to share with brutal force. As he takes off his hat before laying on the mattress, he sighs and an idea crosses his mind. But he's afraid. Because if his plan is not working, it will mean you have already left the Polar Tang. For good. Hands shaking, he finally moves his fingers and mutters, 'room, shambles'. Your plushie disappears as you suddenly pop on the bed. 
Oh, thank god, you didn't leave. "Y/n-ya" he whispers, his voice thick with emotions. 
Your heart is pounding as you remain silent. Ten days. Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin helped you hide from Law for ten days straight. Giving him the silent treatment was a difficult choice and all you can hope for is that it actually worked. "I'm not a man of many words," he confesses. "But I do love you. I'm sorry for always pushing you away, please forgive me. It's just that... I need to keep you out of trouble. If you don't know my current plan for now, it's safer. " For someone as quiet as him, he's talking a lot. But still not enough."I think I've taken you for granted, but I want to be there for you. Please, let me stay by your side. Don't leave me, please." He almost begs, his voice thick with emotions. 
His gentle touch on your cheek almost melts you.  You missed those beautiful, smooth hands on your face. You get closer, enjoying the warm heat heating up your chest. "You're so beautiful", he whispers. He looks so genuinely innocent, discovering again all the small details of your face. What has he done to be so fortunate in love? Does he only deserve you? You can tell that he's not even sure as he waits for your answer, trying to hide the slight shaking in his movements. 
"I love you, Law." You gently assure him by kissing the tattoos on his fingers. As the solace embraces his heart, Law is melting inside.
He didn't lose you. It's not too late. "I know you're not good at words, so I won't ask for much. What you just said is already perfect. Thank you for confessing to me. I know it's hard for you to open up." you reassure him. "What should I do, y/n-ya? How can I show you that I care about you? I won't repeat this situation twice." His eyes are now shining with pure determination. "Just the small things you used to do before. Sleeping with me, giving me a hello and a goodnight kiss... you remember that? Our routines." Law nods, probably taking mental note. "I have to kiss you twenty times." You raise an eyebrow confusedly. "Why?" 
He shrugs. "It's been ten days since I last saw you. And I'm supposed to kiss you all mornings and evenings." He's so serious right now, you can't help but burst out laughing. He's not joking at all. God, you love this nerd so much. The confusion on his face is even more hilarious. " I love you," you sigh between two laughs. "Why are you laughing? Am I wrong?" That man is so smart, cold and logical, but with love… he's just a mess. A beautiful mess. The one you will always love and cherish. "You're so adorable."
And now, he's blushing. How dare you call him adorable? "Just come here," he sighs, grabs your hips, and sits you on his laps. His lips are sealed to yours, and he kisses you. Twenty times. And he's counting. Every kiss is filled with passion, love, unspoken emotions, and sweet promises. 
And, as always when you're together in the same bed, you end up redrawing the tattoos on his chest. As you gently caress his skin, he falls asleep, the tension finally leaving his face. You cradle your head against his chest. His heart is slowly beating, and he looks so calm right now. 
You are here with him, and his tortured mind can finally get some sleep.
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covetyou · 6 months
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the best of you, honey, belongs to me
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part 1 ⋆ part 2 ⋆ part 3 ⋆ part 4 ⋆ part 5
ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) chapter warnings: dub con, unprotected P in V, oral (f receiving), creampie, choking, spanking, mild praise kink, potential assault, derogatory names (slut), drug reference, unspecified age gap. word count: 5.5k chapter summary: Joel Miller is an asshole. An asshole and a liar. Right?
A/N: HOLY SHIT I DID IT I FINISHED SOMETHING. I did it Ma!
Thank you all so much for sticking with me this month. Your support has been silly lovely and I genuinely love you all a little bit.
Ty to @iamasaddie and @jupiter-soups for being the first people to cheer me on from the sidelines. You both made me excited about my own writing, which feels weird but I'm very grateful to you.
I hope you like it, thank you, goodbye, see you soon, I love you.
follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work
song: NFWMB by Hozier
Joel Miller was a massive fucking liar, you'd realized.
You probably would have been able to guess that before, but as you were stood here, back pushed against a brick wall in an alleyway, it was clear as day.
You'd been dragged down here by two men - a small rat like one and a taller one with a mean look on his face - and thrown against the wall. Your back smarted, and you tried to reason with them, but they were tugging at your clothes and threatening you before you could think of anything useful to say.
They were torn off you as quick as they were on you.
And now, heavy fists were pounding into them, beating into their faces and stomachs as they slouched pathetically against the brick opposite. Joel had found you, somehow noticed in a crowd of people that you were suddenly gone. He had someone with him, they looked similar enough that they could have been family, and both were beating into the men that had dragged you down the alley.
A yelled threat and the two men were hobbling away, beaten and bloody and holding onto themselves in their retreat.
"You okay?"
You're looking at Joel, so it takes a second to register that the other man is addressing you. You slowly turn to him - definitely related - and nod. You're stunned and a little winded more than anything.
Joel is flexing his fist, staring daggers at you. His companion doesn't say another word to you, but you hear him talk in hushed tones to Joel, before Joel mutters something back to him and he walks away.
You should probably be more scared of being alone down an alley with Joel Miller than the other two guys but, though it confuses you, you feel safer than ever. He'd protected you, saved you, and that's how you knew that Joel Miller was a fucking liar.
"C'mon," he growls to you, walking away and expecting you to follow. Of course, you follow, even through the low lying anger and frustration that's still simmering in your belly.
As you walk behind, you watch as he clenches his fist and flexes his hands over and over. Before you know it you're outside his apartment block, being roughly dragged up the stairs by a heavy hand on your arm, dragged down a corridor and deposited in front of his front door. He doesn't look at you as he fishes his key out from an inner pocket on his coat.
"Saw you fuckin' lookin' at me, I told you not to do that shit," he says angrily, throwing you into his apartment and slamming the door closed behind you.
"They hurt you?" You shake your head. "They touch you?" You shake your head again.
His nostrils flair. You can almost hear the bones in his hands creak from how hard he's clenching his fists.
And so you poke the fucking bear again, because what is there to lose. You'd spent all week mulling it over, getting angrier and angrier as you talked yourself in circles. He didn't like you and you definitely didn't like him. You didn't want to kiss him, but also you did. Neither of you cared, but maybe both of you did. Everything was feeling like a lie and all you wanted was the truth. So you poke, bracing yourself for impact.
"You're a liar," you whisper, pulling at the sleeves of your coat.
His eyes immediately snap to yours, and he's making quick work of the distance between you. He's toe to toe with you when he stops, looking down at you, fists still firmly clenched at his sides.
"What did you fuckin' say to me?"
You swallow before you speak again, meek as a mouse but a fire in your belly. "You're a liar. You said you wouldn't look out for me."
"S'that why you kept lookin'? S'that why you got yourself in trouble? To prove some fuckin' point?"
You frown at him - it hadn't been intentional. You were glaring at him when they grabbed you, stuffing a gloved hand over your mouth to keep your scream from being heard. The people around you didn't care, didn't stop what they were doing or go for help. They just left you. But Joel came anyway.
"You think I asked for that?" you say, trying to keep your voice from cracking. You never have and never will cry in front of this man, not like this anyway. You watch as his mouth curls to sneer at you, the fire turning into a sick feeling bubbling up through your belly as you watch his lip raise.
You don't know what comes over you, but you push at his chest, wanting to touch him and get him away from you in equal measure. It takes him by surprise, the force of your push making him stumble back.
You both stare at each other, unmoving for a beat, both shocked that you'd dare to touch him let alone push him. You think maybe you should run, get away before he gets you, but your reactions are slower than his, and you're raising your arms to protect yourself as he makes one big stride over to you.
The blow doesn't come.
He's pulling at your coat, jerking it down your arms, before tugging at the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. It gets caught, and you hear a tear as it catches on your arm, but he keeps pulling anyway. The fabric splits from your body, tattered and ruined as it's discarded on the floor.
"You think I would fuckin' hit you?" he says angrily as he tugs at the rest of your clothes. "You think I would fuckin' hurt you in any way you don't want?"
You have no time to answer before he's manhandling you again, pushing you roughly into his room.
He pushes you forward onto his bed, bending you over and holding you there as he reaches around and tugs at your zipper. You fight to stand, but the weight of his hand keeps you in place as he pulls your pants and panties down in one, leaving them around your knees so you can't run to escape even if you wanted to. Any thought that you could, should, run is already gone. You don't want to, not any more. Whatever he wants to do, whatever anger he has for you, you want it. You want to feel his anger, you want it to burn into yours until you combust.
A hand claps down on your ass and you feel the sting ripple up your back. He wanted that one to hurt, and it did. Another sharp slap hits your other cheek soon after, the sting of pain made worse by your cold skin, but you're glad for it because you wanted that one to hurt too.
Both his hands rub across your cheeks, drawing a groan from you as he massages them and soothes the sting before rough fingers pull you apart. He always did like looking.
He wastes no time in plunging his wet tongue into your pussy from behind, Joel's hands yanking your pants down the to your feet to spread you open further for him. "You're fuckin' dripping," he says between breaths as you push back into his face.
"You this wet from those guys?" You don't answer, so he slaps a hand down on your ass again.
"Fuckin' answer me."
"N-no. M'not wet from them."
"Then why," he says, breathing deeply as he devours your pussy, the cold of his nose tickling your hole as the scruff on his jaw scratches at your inner thighs. "Tell me. Tell me why this needy fuckin' pussy is so wet."
"Because of you," you push your face down into his bed, biting at his sheets as his tongue swipes over your clit, already so sensitive your legs are shaking. You arch your back, exposing more of your cunt to his relentless tongue. There's no question or thread of shame in your mind why you like this - why you're already so close to coming undone just from him being an asshole and playing with your pussy.
"Me, huh? Little hole's desperate for me? Look at her cryin' out to be stuffed full, drippin' all over the place."
You couldn't help the drip of slick from your cunt, or the way his words always worked to make it worse. You knew you were a mess, but by now you knew he liked it, even if he taunted you for it. You felt how his grasping hands got firmer, saw as his cock got harder, just at the sight of your glistening pussy.
Two of his thick fingers are pushing into you, the cold feel of them startling you as they slide home. You'd spent a week thinking of his fist buried in your cunt, but his fingers still felt so thick, so much, plunged into your dripping wet heat as they were.
"If you make a mess on my sheets I'll rub your fuckin' nose in it. Act like an animal I'll treat you like one."
If you were an animal, he was fucking feral - a snarling, growling, feral animal of a man that you just couldn't resist.
His fingers curl, dragging against your walls harshly as his tongue slides against your clit again, swirling around the stretched rim where his fingers are embedded in you, tasting you, before slurping at your clit once more. You grind your hips back against his face, trying to get more friction on your clit as he fucks you with his fingers. They're warmed now, the burning heat from your cunt drawing the chill from his bones.
The wet squelch in your cunt is obscene as he laps at your clit, drawing you so close already, your feet still tangled in your pants and your moans muffled by the push of your face into his sheets.
Joel's fingers are gone just as your orgasm starts to raise its head over the horizon, ruining any high you were so close to getting. You slam your fist down on the bed in frustration, ignoring his gruff laugh as you muffle your fuck into his bed. His knees crack as he stands, undoing his belt and pulling his cock from his pants. He doesn't stroke himself, he doesn't need to, he just squeezes himself at the base, lines himself up with your hole and pushes forward.
A strangled moan pulls from your chest as he sheathes himself, pulling your hips back flush with his as his cock impales you in one movement.
"Fuck, if this pussy don't just love this dick."
He draws back slowly, pulling any slick from your cunt back with him, coating himself in you, before slamming back to the hilt.
"Uhh, f-fuck."
You feel him draw back again, holding himself back from you, tip barely inside your cunt, teasing himself at your entrance. Before he can, you push back onto his cock, taking him in with a deep moan.
He stifles a groan, fingers digging into your hips, pinching the flesh in his grip. You try to move, to fuck yourself on his length, but his grip won't let you. You can feel him throb inside you, and you hope he's already close to coming, that he wants you that much he can barely hold himself back.
The thought is gone as soon as he starts pulling back again and thrusting forward quickly, repeatedly slamming his hips into your ass and pulling you back onto him. The sharp slap of his hips and wet squelches of your pussy are muffled only by your moans and Joel's shaky breathing.
"Tell me - you fuck anyone else - like this," you say through staccato gasps as his cock collides with your cervix. "If you say you do - I'll know - you're even more of a - fucking liar."
He throws you forward, pulling out and standing glaring down at you when you twist to look at him, finally able to kick your pants and shoes off your feet.
"You think you're special?" he growls. You take him in, his massive figure stood there still clothed, cock hanging lewdly from his pants and covered in your slick. You want to lick it, taste your own pussy on his cock and catch the drip of precum from his tip before it's wasted.
"No. I'm not. And neither are you," you spread your legs as you say it, willing him to come back, to start fucking you again, but not daring to ask for it. "You're an asshole. I just like that you make me feel good."
"Feeling's mutual, sweetheart." He's pouncing on you before you can process it, yanking his shirt over his head before pulling your spread thighs across his clothed ones, notching at your entrance and sliding straight back in.
You thud back down onto the bed with the force of his cock fucking into you, staring up at him with an open mouth, panting as he starts to cant into you once again. His hands are holding your thighs against his as he rocks so deeply into you you think you can see your lower belly pulse with each movement.
His hands slide down your thighs, pulling you apart where his cock joined with you, swiping a thumb up the slick gathered there and rubbing it around your clit in rough circles. You reach down, hand trying to meet his and hold him there, but he swats you away. You move further instead, grabbing at the waistband of his pants and tugging down, slipping them over his ass before he's pushing you back again. Your fingers drag across his abdomen as you fall back again, watching a shudder crawl through him with the graze of your fingertips.
You try not to smile when his hand falls from you and shimmies his pants further down his legs, over his knees and kicking them off the end of the bed whilst still buried in you. You can see all of him again now, his broad shoulders, dark nipples, the trail of hair down to his cock where it disappears inside you. His thick thighs, spread almost as lewdly as yours, dusted in hair, the muscles flexing with each rock into you. He doesn't look at you as you drink him in, eyes focused on your cunt as he pulls you back open.
He spits down onto your clit. You whine when it collides with your skin and starts to trickle down your spread pussy. You whine again when his thumb draws it up and around your clit, massaging it into you, each swipe of his thumb jerking your swollen nub and bringing you closer to coming undone as he pounds you hard into his mattress.
You throw your head back with the feeling of it all, moaning loudly into the open room.
"You'd let me do anythin' to you, huh."
"Yeah," you admit, head still thrown back and eyes closed. You would, you couldn't even say why, just that you knew you would. That for all the pain at the end of the world, this was a pain that was worth it, a stretch that made you ache in the right ways, the sting of his palm that electrified you, made you feel alive.
"You're just beggin' for me to slap your pussy pink again, ain't you? Fill that pretty little asshole up with my cum. Wear you like a fuckin' glove." He's growling, muttering obscene things to you, things you both know to be true. "You'd let me fuck you anyway I want, even share you with whoever I want."
You nod, stupidly bobbing your head along with the rhythm of him sliding into you.
"This pussy is mine," he growls. "Say it."
"Yours!" you pant, you didn't want it to be anyone elses any more, what was the point when he'd ruined you for anyone else. "M'yours!" Fuck.
"All o' you? That's more than I even asked for sweetheart."
And he's falling forward over you, hands planting either side of your head for leverage as he pounds into you harder than he ever has, abandoning your clit just as you were about to fall apart underneath him yet again. Any words to correct yourself are gone as you groan, pulling your brows together and watching him. His face relaxes and contorts over and over, sweat beads at his temples. You know his hair would feel damp if only you would reached up to touch it.
He shifts to his elbows, the sweat from his chest and belly mingling with yours, making your bodies slick as they slide together. You watch his mouth open as he pants, the heat of his breath on your face cooling the sweat dripping down your neck. You can smell him, see every imperfection of his skin in such detail that you're struck dumb, angry, and desperate all in one swoop. Something so close still feels so far away, and a frustrated sob is bubbling from you before you can stop it.
Something inside you snaps with that. You'd be chasing it for weeks, denied something you hadn't even dared to ask for.
You grab him by the throat as his hips roll into you, gasping out a breath before you grit your teeth and say it, forcing him to look directly at you.
"Fucking kiss me."
He laughs in your face and you fight down the shame for even daring to ask for something you wanted, something you deserved. "Is that what you want?"
You nod, squeezing his throat beneath your fingertips.
He pulls back from you - you want to claw at him and hold him to you but he pushes your hand against his throat with his own. He looks down between you, your pussy creaming around his cock and swollen clit twitching with each thrust.
You tighten the grip on the sides of his throat, feeling the hard thud of blood through his veins at your fingertips, drawing his eyes back to yours.
"Fuck, that's it, sweetheart."
He suddenly throws your arm down from his neck, pinning both if your hands down as he puts his weight on top of you.
"That what you want?" he grits out. "That what you keep coming back for? Thought you were whoring yourself out for pills, not a fuckin' kiss. Are you that fuckin' desperate?"
He's goading you, you know he is. Still, you want to scream at him, but his face is close to yours now, so terrifyingly close you could kiss him by accident if you weren't careful. Suddenly you're terrified of it, desperate but terrified.
His aquiline nose slides up the side of your face, and you stop breathing. "You want this?"
"Please." You'll be angry at yourself for begging later, right now you'd say anything if it meant he'd finally give it to you.
He drags his nose across your face, rubs his nose against yours. He's practically still inside you now, the shallow rock of his hips the only movement either of you are making. "You sure?"
"Please," you whisper again, breath ghosting across his lips. You try not to move your mouth too much, barely muttering the word in case your mouth touches his. His own breath huffs against your mouth, teasing you with the taste of him.
"S'all you want, huh?"
"Mm." He's so close you don't trust yourself to speak.
His nose nuzzles into yours, the hair on his face tickling at your sensitive top lip. Then you feel it, the bow of his top lip swiping against yours, not kissing just feeling.
You're frozen, terrified to move, terrified to feel what you've been desperate for for months.
But you made it through the worst days at the end of the world. What was fear any more except another lie.
You press your lips forward, done with waiting, done with being patient, done with putting others first. You want it so badly that finally, finally, you take it.
At the first press of your lips to his, he releases your wrists, sliding his hand down the curve of your body to hold you to him. You moan into his mouth, blinking back angry tears as you wrap your own hand around his neck to pull him in further. At first he doesn't move against you, letting you kiss the soft swell of his mouth, but when you slip your tongue against his bottom lip and breathe him in, his mouth opens and his lips press to yours, giving back everything you're taking.
"This all you wanted this whole time?" he whispers against your mouth.
"Not all I wanted," you mumble. Your eyes are closed, head dizzy from breathing so deeply, from finally doing the thing you'd literally only dreamed of.
"No?"
"No," you swallow before continuing, the shame of admission gone now. What shame could there even be when it was so obvious. You open your eyes just as you speak. "I wanted all of it."
"Yeah?" You think from the look on his face that he needed to hear it as much as you needed to say it, so you kiss him again, just because you can.
He presses his hips into you harder, making you gasp straight into his mouth, the sharp pressure of his cock so much with the fuzzy high in your head. He does it again, kissing you of his own volition this time and swallowing your moan down as he starts fucking you again, one hand settling in your hair as the other wanders your body. You can still taste the salty sweetness of your own pussy on his mouth as you lick into him.
Your own hand dances with his over your body, teasing your own nipples and stroking down, down, until you push your hand between your bodies and feel between your legs. You're a mess, sweat and the wetness from your pussy merged together to create a slip and slide of slick as he slides his cock into your tender hole. You stroke at the base of him and feel another shudder work its way through his body before you move your hand back to yourself, circling your own clit as he rocks his length into you.
"You gonna make yourself come on my cock?" he says, looking down where your hand strokes at your clit. You nod, lips brushing his, capturing him in another kiss as you moan, so close already.
"Good fuckin' girl. You rub that pretty pussy. She just fuckin' loves this dick." True.
His cock in your pussy, his hands in your hair, holding your body, your own hand strumming your clit with well practiced movements, the feeling of his lips on your own. It's all so much so quickly, everything you've been craving for so long, that the fire in your body burns so bright it explodes out of every pore before you can hold it off.
"F-fuck, Joeeel."
You come with a cry, every part of your body shuddering and convulsing, hand twitching over your own cunt as you desperately try to keep the high going as long as you can, until you're so sensitive all you can do is grip your own thigh, your nails creating half moons in the soft flesh.
"You're all mine, huh?" he says gently, still inside you now as he feels your walls pulse and twitch around him. You nod, floating from his kisses and your own high. "No one else gonna touch this pussy. S'all mine."
"S'yours."
"Needy, needy, pussy," he grunts into your mouth, as your cunt quivers around him, an aftershock pulled from you at just his words and the rasp of his coarse hair against your clit.
It hits you then, for all he called you needy you never actually asked for what you wanted, what you needed. You never took it either. Not until now. But he always did.
"I think you're just as needy as I am," you whisper.
He clicks his tongue and cocks his head. "I never said I wasn't, sweetheart."
A quick shuffle of his knees later he's pounding into you with abandon, your cunt had barely stopped throbbing by the time he started again.
"Ohhhh, god."
You don't move to kiss him again, he's chasing whatever high he needs now and you let him take it, back arching, moaning as he pounds away, cock slipping inside you with ease. The hand in your hair pulls harder, tugging your head back. You think this is going to be it, he's going to come inside you like this, but then wet kisses are being peppered across your neck and collar bone, his moans sounding more like those of a common whore than his usual grunts.
You want to come again already, so you grip him tight, hands roaming from your body to his arms, his shoulders. Your nails claw at him, pulling him closer and pushing him away, trying to tear him apart with your bare hands as he fucks you.
He moves quicker still, head buried in the crook of your neck as he holds onto you and slams home over and over. You think he's almost there - hope he is because how much more screaming can your voice take before it breaks - when he's yanking your hair again. His mouth latches to your own in a sloppy kiss, tongue fighting with yours and his cock squelching into the wet heat of your pussy as he comes undone, groaning into your mouth, shuddering, fucking ropes of thick cum into your empty cunt and never stilling for a second.
His hips stop bucking against yours before his mouth does. He kisses you softer, groaning, slowing down to catch his breath before he finally removes his lips from yours with a shuddering gasp, screwing his eyes shut.
Cum practically gushes out of you when he pulls out, and you expect him to get up and leave like he has every time before. He doesn't. Instead, he rests his head next to yours, kissing your shoulder, the warmth of his body encasing yours.
Your face finds his, nudging against his jaw. He shifts, letting you in, and your mouth finds his again. You kiss him until you turn to liquid, sighing deeply and tracing soft patterns on his skin and your own with your fingertips.
Eventually, he releases your hair, and you think the moment is truly over. But then he rolls over, flopping down next to you, the weight of him dipping the mattress and making you shift closer to his side. He closes his eyes, putting an arm behind his head, and you take the chance to look down at his naked body, his cock now soft between his legs.
The feeling that bubbles up through you rips out of your mouth in a laugh. Joel's eyes fly open, finding yours, making you laugh harder. Tears are falling from your eyes - the absurdity of it all too much to bear. So angry at him, at yourself, for weeks now. Wanting something for so long, something that it turns out you could have just reached out and grabbed. Driving yourself near mad over wanting to be touched in a way you thought he never would, when maybe all along he thought you never wanted it. You're left with nothing but small giggles and an aching belly by the time the feeling bubbles out of you completely.
You wonder how all of this must look to him. How small and naive you must look, just a silly girl giggling in his bed. If he thinks it, he doesn't voice it. He just shakes his head softly and raises an eyebrow at you, as if to ask if you're done.
You lie next to each other in silence after that. He doesn't tell you to leave, and you don't move to either. You just lie there, arms barely touching, sweat drying and cooling both of your bodies.
You'd always been okay with silence, more often than not finding yourself with nothing to say, especially these days. But something in this moment tells you to speak, and so you do, filling the silence with your own voice before the opportunity can be taken from you.
"Thanks for helping me out there," you start softly. "I know you said you wouldn't, and I'm not trying to prove a point I just... Thank you. I was looking at you. I couldn't help it. I've been... angry. At you, yeah, but mostly myself. So I was looking, but I didn't realize it was that much, I swear and I -"
"S'okay," he stops your ramble so simply and quickly you frown, an involuntary tut falls of your mouth. He casts a glance over to you, almost chastising as he continues. "Ain't lyin' when I say it though. You gotta stop lookin' at me. I really can't be lookin' out for you, just got lucky this time. There's assholes bigger than me out there."
"Doubt it," you scoff. He raises an eyebrow and runs his tongue along his teeth, daring you to say more. You don't.
You fiddle with the sheets between you, biting at your cheek and bottom lip, so much more to say but the words just ending up jumbled in your head.
"I wasn't lying either. When I said I want it. All of it." That's a start, you figure.
"You don't want me. I could be anyone."
"Maybe I don't. Never said I did. I just know that I want whatever this is," you gesture between the two of you. Whatever had started as a transaction was clearly more than that now. You enjoyed the feel of him, the way he touched you and talked to you. You enjoyed the escape of it all. It was nice to know another person in the world knew you were there, that you existed, cared about you in some way, even if it was only enough to make sure you came. "Sex was never really any good with anyone else anyway."
"I've got other people I have arrangements with. I've got Tess, I've got -"
"I know. That doesn't matter. I'm not asking you to change. I don't want anything to change. I just want..." you trail off, shrugging. "I just want this for me. I don't care what it is for you, as long as it's good too."
He looks at you, taking you in with curious eyes, working out if what you're saying is true. If really, in this moment here and now, you want this exactly as it is. "I can do that."
You think that he gets it, understands it all more than you could ever explain. The thought of that alone is more comforting than any touch he could give you. It could have been a sweet moment, if that's what you two were. But it's not, and still he ruins it anyway.
"Pussy really is no one else's but mine, huh?" There's an edge to his voice that tells you he's holding back a laugh, and you could fucking hit him.
This time, you do. You relish in the oof that leaves his body as your hand collides with the side of his chest. He catches your wrist before you can land another soft blow, your skin prickling in his firm grip. You know from the feel of his hand and the look in his eye that you'll fuck him again before you leave his apartment today.
It only takes a few minutes for you to prove yourself right. You climb on top of him all soft curves and bouncing tits, hair a mess, face scrunched and jaw relaxed as you ride him, kissing him as much as you've ever wanted. Even when your legs ache, when he starts fucking up into you with each bounce of your hips, you carry on, wanting to take from him again and have him fill you.
He never tells you to leave, but eventually you get up, putting your clothes on, tucking your torn t-shirt around you. You expect your dad will be wondering where you've got to soon.
Joel sits and watches you dress until you're stood fully clothed, looking at him lying nude on his bed, a total contrast to what happened in this room just a week ago.
You think for a moment, waiting as he gets up and walks with you back through his apartment. You take in the last few hours. The last week. The last few months of knowing Joel Miller.
"Joel?"
"Mm."
You look him up and down as you stand in front of his door, still naked as the day he was born. "You're a massive slut, you know that, right?"
He laughs. Full bellied, head back, laughs.
"Takes one to know one, sweetheart," he says with a smirk, winking as he unlatches the front door.
You kiss Joel again as you leave his apartment. He can't stop you now, and you don't think he would ever even try.
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girlgenius1111 · 5 months
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ACL tear #4, ACL couple #2
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r tears her ACL during the wolfsburg game. she's dating leah, but no one else on the team knows.
angst + fluff
In the world of football, there was no injury more infamous than an ACL tear. Every female footballer felt like they knew exactly what the injury detailed, hearing about it from so many teammates. Especially at Arsenal, where you were down 3 of your best players with it.
Which is how you knew what happened before you even hit the ground. The pain in your knee was excruciating, but it didn't compare to the dread that filled your body when you heard the pop. It was exactly like everyone had described.
The sound of the crowd seemed to fade, until you could only hear your heartbeat in your ears. No one was coming to you, and they needed to get you off, get someone else on, and beat Wolfsburg. That was really all you could think about, aside from the pain; that you'd drag yourself off the field if it would be faster. You waved your hand up in the air, trying to tell your teammates to kick the ball out. Eventually, Katie did. Her and Manu were the first to you, crouching down. The looks on their faces told you that they knew what this was too, but still, they asked.
"What hurts?" Katie said, placing a hand on your head.
"ACL," you responded, "heard the pop." The girls exchanged looks above you, and Manu motioned to the sidelines. You felt more hands on you, and then Lia was speaking in your ear quietly.
"It's gonna be alright, y/n. If that's what it is, we've got you," she told you. You appreciated her words, everyone's support, but you wanted everyone to just stop talking. You were fighting back tears now, and you were determined not to cry on the field.
Through clenched teeth, you asked, "are they coming?"
"Yeah, almost here," Frida told you. You nodded, still laying in a ball on your side. The pain was radiating out from your knee, and damn, everyone talked about how much it hurt, but this was worse than you were expecting. You continued to try to take steady, measured breaths as the medics got arrived.
You repeated what you'd told Katie, and their faces were grim as the got you up. You wanted to walk off, something you told the medics, Lia, Jen, anyone that was near you really.
"No, we're gonna need the stretcher. We don't need to make it any worse," Lia said.
"Leah walked off." You reminded her.
"I know, y/n, but lets just get you on here, alright?" You couldn't get off on your own, and it was clear they weren't going to let you walk off. So, you relented, allowing them to lower you back onto the stretcher. You were growing used to the pain in your knee, or maybe it was fading slightly, and as they carried you off, all you could think was that you just wanted Leah.
The two of you had been together for 6 months. No one knew yet, you'd been keeping it to yourselves, enjoying the privacy and the ease. It had been casual, until she'd done her knee, and suddenly, you were the only person outside of Viv and Beth that she'd really talk to. You'd watched her go through this, knew how hard it was. And as Viv walked with you, saying something that you didn't really hear, you just wanted Leah.
They took you back through the tunnel, and into one of the medical rooms. They set you on a table, and worked around you for a while. They hadn't let anyone in the room except Viv, and you loved her, you really did, but you knew Leah would be in the hall, going crazy. You couldn't think of any way to ask for her though without raising suspicion, even as Viv stood next to you, asking if she could get you anything.
"Alright, we need scans, but it seems like it's your ACL. I'm sorry, y/n." One of the medics told you. You nodded numbly, staring at the white ceiling, feeling tears burn the back of your eyes.
"You're gonna be alright, schatje, you won't have to do this alone." Viv spoke softly, and you shut your eyes.
"Can I just have a sec?" You asked, voice breaking pathetically, because if you couldn't have Leah, you didn't want anyone. The medics shuffled out, and Viv stepped away hesitantly, looking like she wasn't sure leaving you by yourself was the best idea.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, just need a minute." You replied. You were still staring at the ceiling, but out of the corner of your eyes, through tears, you watched as Viv walked out the door, shutting it quietly behind her. You covered your face with your hands as you let go, trying to muffle your cries in your hands. Your body shook with each sob, and you were sure that you'd never felt this bad, this upset, in your entire life.
-----
Leah had followed the stretcher at a distance, as Viv got to you first. She'd wanted to shove everyone out of the way and get to you as fast as she could, even when you were still on the field. She didn't care if people found out, if people talked, she just needed to make sure you were okay. But she would be damned if she was going to allow your privacy to be taken away from you too, along with your ability to do the thing you loved. In an impressive show of restraint, she felt, she kept her distance.
She paced the hallway outside the room you were in, feeling Beth's eyes on her as she walked back and forth.
"She'll be alright, Leah, she's a tough kid." Leah hummed in response, but kept pacing. She knew you were strong, but you were also her girlfriend, and she wanted to be with you. "Oh for god's sake, stop pacing." Beth said, grabbing Leah's hand and tugging her to sit in the chair next to her.
Leah obliged, but her nervous energy had to go somewhere, or she was sure she'd go bursting in the room, so she began to rapidly bounce her knee. Beth gave her a look, not really sure why Leah was acting like this. Sure, you were friends, and Beth was worried about you too, but the panic and worry she saw on her normally composed captain's face was so out of character.
"What is with you? You're normally the calm one when someone's hurt." Beth remarked, studying Leah closely. Just then, the door to the room opened, and the medics shuffled out. Leah tried to peek in and see you, but Viv closed the door quickly behind her. Leah looked at the Dutch woman with a question on her face, terrified of the answer.
"ACL," Viv said simply and Leah felt her whole body fall in on itself. She was sure then, very suddenly, that she must love you because she was trying to figure out a way to give you her good ACL, if it meant you'd be okay.
"Why aren't you in there with her?" Leah questioned, as soon as she'd pulled herself back together. She knew she was glaring at poor Viv, but she couldn't help it.
"She wanted some space," Viv told her, exchanging a look with Beth. Neither of them had ever seen Leah act like this before. Now that no one was speaking, they could hear you crying through the door, and they all flinched at the sound.
Leah sighed heavily, burying her face in her hands. Viv took the seat on the other side of Leah, looking over her at Beth. Beth just shrugged at her, and both of them pulled their attention back to Leah, as her shoulders began to shake lightly. Both girls blinked down at her, almost not believing their eyes. Leah never let anyone see her cry, not even when she'd hurt her knee.
"Lee," Beth began, placing a gentle hand on her back. Leah jumped up suddenly, wiping her face harshly.
"I can't take this, I'm going in there." She said, voice choked.
"She said she wanted-" Viv started.
"I don't care what she said, she needs me." Leah said aggressively, and her words had a finality to them. They knew better to argue, both throwing their hands up in response to Leah's deep glare. Leah pushed the door open, walking in quietly. She closed the door behind her, but not before Beth and Viv caught her first word to you.
"Love?" She said, just as the door fell shut.
Beth and Viv looked at each other. It wasn't odd for Leah to call a teammate that, but the word paired with her downright bizarre behavior since you'd gone down was leading them to question some things.
-----
Inside the room, you hadn't noticed Leah enter until you heard her soft voice.
"Love? Is it alright if I come in?" She asked, the harshness she'd shown Viv and Beth gone without a trace. She was only ever gentle with you, only ever soft and kind.
You pulled your hands down away from your face, and looked at her through tearstained and puffy eyes, taking in how worried she looked. Her hair was pulled back in a messy low bun, and you remembered it being down at the start of the game. Leah always fiddled with her hair when she was nervous. You nodded slightly, in response to her question, lip beginning to quiver again.
"Oh, baby," She said, walked quickly to your side. She pulled you into her arms, and you buried your face in her sweatshirt, inhaling the scent of her perfume. "I'm so sorry, my love. So so sorry," she told you, pressing kiss after kiss to the side of your head. You didn't respond, only pulling her in closer to you, grabbing her sweatshirt in your hands, as if afraid she was going to leave. She held you for a long time, only letting go when she felt you pull back.
She held your face in her hands, looking deeply into your eyes, trying to see how you were doing. "You can do this. I'll be here the whole time." She said, her words matching her unwavering expression. It was what everyone had been saying to you, and yet coming from her, it made you feel better. She watched as the defeat clear on your face disappeared, replaced by a fire she recognized. You pulled her down to you, pressing your lips to hers in a searing kiss. You tried to put your appreciation for her, your love for her into that kiss, even if you hadn't said the words yet. You both quickly got lost in the kiss, letting the world and everything that mattered fall away.
You were still kissing when the door opened, but neither of you noticed.
"Are you guys- oh. Viv you were right." Beth said, blinking at the two of you as you jumped away from each other. She said the words as if she hadn't just caught two of her friends making out, like it wasn't really a surprise. You felt your cheeks burning, and saw the blush reflecting on Leah's face. "Well, you're clearly alright. We're coming in now." Beth told you, and she walked into the room, taking a seat on the other side of you. Viv followed her in, both girls smirking at the two of you.
Leah tried return to being stern, but she was too worried you were mad at her for kissing you, and getting caught. She gave up the dirty look she was sending your friends, as they both sat next to your bed, staring at the two of you with stupid grins on their faces.
She turned back to you, deciding to pretend they didn't exist. "I'm sorry baby, I think I might have given that away. I was a bit of a wreck out there and then I charged in here, and I didn't mean-" You cut her off.
"Lee, it's fine. I just wanted you in here, but I didn't want to tell people before you were ready." You said. You both laughed lightly, realizing you'd wanted the same thing, but were too concerned with the other person to ask for it.
"You're gonna have to tell the rest of the team. Try to get Beth to keep this a secret, she'll lose her mind." Viv teased. Beth wacked her in the arm. All of you laughed at the disgruntled look on her face, and eventually she joined in.
Viv handed you a water bottle, and Leah pulled a chair over to the side she was standing on, sitting down. She was barely sitting though, leaning forward to hold your hand until she was almost off the chair. The other girls decided to leave her alone over that, opting to ask how you were feeling instead.
"Alright. It doesn't hurt a much anymore," you said, pausing. "How hard is it?" you asked quietly. They let the question hang for a minute before they each answered in turn.
"Nothing you can't handle." Viv said.
"Especially with blondie over there taking care of you." Beth said, once again smirking mischievously at you. Leah ignored her, waiting until you looked down at her before answering.
"Doesn't matter how hard it is. I know you can do it." She said, her voice full of confidence in you. You nodded, accepting the answer. Her words filled you with a feeling, one you could only describe as being loved.
-----
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Playing With Fire
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24/12: A Fancy Party & Praising - modern!Aemond Targaryen Word Count: 2.1k~ | Warnings: raunchy texts, pussy slapping, public sex, p in v sex, praise, dirty talk A/N: missed these two??? It's our Perfect Score duo!
12 Days of Smuff Masterlist
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She hates these events. Hates the pomp and ego. Her situation has changed but the figure skating business certainly hadn't.
Since returning to Singles, Rhaenys had encouraged her to get involved in it all again, as much as she knew she loathed it. Connections were everything after all. And she supposed it was an excuse to have a glass of bubbly.
Rhaenys was in her usual flawless getup. A floor length pale blue, with the corset littered with sparkles. Except this time, instead of dragging her around by her forearm, she'd bought her doting husband, Corlys, and was dragging him around instead.
She gravitated instantly to Baela and Rhaena, dressed in matching blues. Baela wore a skin tight dress without sleeves and it was such a dark blue that in some light, it could've been black. Whereas Rhaena matched her blue to Rhaenys, bar all the sparkle, since she insisted it was 'tacky'.
She'd rolled her eyes at that.
Some things never change.
"Hello, you", she turned to find a familiar face, voice and mop of curly brown hair.
"Jace!"
He gave her a tight-lipped smile and a friendly hug somehow without really touching her, "nice to see you out on the ice again."
"Oh, you know me, can't keep away", she smirked, throwing a lock of waved hair over her shoulder.
Yet another familiar face poked from the shadows, "miss me?"
Both Jace and her smiled brightly, "Cregan, nice to see you!"
"You too," he smiled, "fucking hate these things."
She gave a dry laugh, "yeah, me too. Just an excuse to have some fancy food really."
Cregan laughed, "at least you're honest."
As the glasses of bubbly began to work their magic, her head swirling pleasantly, she watched Jace and Cregan laugh with each other, and then Baela and Rhaena alike.
There was a full ache in her chest, tapping her fingernails against the glass flute, wishing that a certain person was also here to accompany her.
She had respected Aemond's decision to not attend events such as this.
He would support her at matches, cheering from the sidelines, even watching when she practised, sometimes joining her, but he couldn't for the life of him force himself to go to an event where he might catch a glimpse of Alys Rivers.
He'd get no judgement from her for that.
Besides, if Alys Rivers ever dared to show her face in the same building as her, she'd face her wrath.
She finds herself, absentmindedly sipping the tart prosecco, her third she notes, listening to Corlys Velaryon harp on about how amazing Rhaenys was in her day. How sensually she moved, how she used to wink at him from the sidelines and-
“Okayyy…I think I've heard just about enough.” She says awkwardly. Without that he might have gone on forever.
“Apologies. I can't say enough things to describe her.”
She nods, “I'm lucky to have her as a manager, certainly. Excuse me.”
She blinked a few times as she slid away, through the brilliantly dressed people, downing the rest of her bubbly as she pushed the glass doors towards the back of the hall to get some fresh air.
She fanned herself with her hand, feeling all hot from the humid air vaped off everyone’s bodies inside. Her phone illuminates her face as she pulls it from her clutch, a smile rising to her lips to find Aemond’s name as the most recent contact to have sent her a message.
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She laughed quietly, her thumbs moving quickly to reply, heart all aflutter.
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There’s a long quiet. Those three lines to say he’s replying come on, then off, then on again.
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Um.
What. 
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Okay. What the fuck.
Her eyes were like saucers, the cold blue light bouncing off them as she stared at his response.
Gods, what the fuck was Aemond on??
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She found herself looking around briefly.
Aemond hadn't known what she'd worn. How could he have?
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She was stunned for a moment, her thumbs unmoving as her eyebrows furrowed at her screen in confusion.
It was a good job she was outside, the squeal she let out bounced off the walls when she felt two hands sliding around her waist.
If she were a different person, she'd have used her clutch as a weapon, it was certainly heavy enough.
But in the end she's glad she didn't as she whips around to be greeted with the familiar smirk, platinum tied-back hair and mismatched eyes of Aemond.
Her phone nearly falls from her hands in shock, "Aemond, what the fuck?!"
He chuckles breathily, "Nice to see you too, princess."
"What the hell are you doing here?" she asked, gaining her breath back slightly, her chest feeling hot but at the same time, a smile rising to her lips at his presence. Stupidly, seeing him is just what she needed.
"Thought I'd come and see my girl, only to find that yet again that cunt Northerner is trying to get into her pants."
She swallowed at the way he'd said it, all low and halfway between flirty and angry. And ashamed as she is to say it, a warmth drifts between her thighs, her insides clenching around nothing, remembering perhaps the borderline dirty words he'd typed over text.
"I was...just being nice-"
"Oh were you now?" he drones, leaning forward impossibly close, a platinum strand falling from behind his ear to frame his sharp features. His hand on the wall on one side of her head feels close, half caging her in and the anticipation of his proximity is suffocating.
His gaze drops to her outfit, akin to the one she wore when her and Aemond had to attend their first shmoozing event back when they worked in Pairs.
"You do look gorgeous," he starts, humming appreciatively, "I remember you wearing something like this back when we hated each other."
"We didn't hate each other." She rolls her eyes, not able to help the smile that quirks at her lips.
But Aemond cocks his head, narrowing his gaze, "Uh huh, sure. Well you hated me then," he grins, "in any case, princess, I'm not sure I can wait for us to ditch this place."
Her lips part, unsure what he means until he has her pressed to the wall, his tall, broad form easily framing her in to trap her, rather enjoying the lost, dumb look on her face as his fingers trickle down to the hem of her dress.
"Aemond!" She whisper shouts, looking around as her face burns at the thought of being so brazen out in public like this. If anyone came through those horrendous glass doors... the thought has her core throb with danger and her skin alight with nerves.
"What? I promised, didn't I?" He muses, his lips descending to place open-mouthed kisses on her neck, below her ear, "I said I'd fuck you stupid."
Yes, but I didn't think you meant here, is all she's able to think.
But her mouth fails to move as he rucks up her dress to her middle, surprised in himself to find there was nothing beneath.
"Trying to impress someone?"
"Can't wear underwear with this dre-ah!"
She has to cover her mouth when Aemond slaps her harshly right onto her hot core, throbbing with want for him by now she's sure. The action, so lewd and exciting, has her clenching around nothing.
"Yeah yeah, don't want your pathetic fucking excuses, princess," he utters darkly, his tongue running over the bit of skin he'd just bitten lightly, and she mewls, turning into a choked moan the second he eases two fingers into her.
She's not as wet as she would be with some preparation, but right now that's half the thrill. She's still excited enough from his words over text alone that there's no pain but only the stretch of his fingers as he crooks forwards, brushing that spot inside her that has her toes curling in her heels.
She grabs his wrist, "fuck-Aemond-"
"There it is. Such a dirty fucking girl for me, aren't you."
She nods feebly, not even really listening, too focussed on tightening her grip on him as he pistons two fingers into her, the tightness in her belly beginning to crest as Aemond brushes her sweet spot with every push inside.
"Fuck-I can feel you tightening around me you little slut."
He punctuates it with yet another wetter slap as he pulls his digits from her, making her let out a muffled squeal.
She barely has time to crack her eyes open before Aemond is pressed up against her, his hands grasping her thighs to pull her up the wall against him. He only really needs one hand to do it, his chest anchoring hers to him as his other fumbles with his belt.
"Tell you what, if you can be quiet for me, I'll let you cum." He breathes against her lips, his jaw all tense like this is all he's been able to think about since he saw her.
"Aemond, wai-"
He doesn't.
Both of them have to stifle a sort of relieved moan as he slides into her, the stretch of him never failing to steal the air from her lungs. Her arms tighten around his back, all ideas of being caught or the fact that there are several dozen people inside the building next to them right at this moment, is completely distant.
The first genuine thrust he gives makes her want to cry out, but she thinks better of it and presses her lips together, each movement of himself inside her making that task ten times harder. But the prospect of not being allowed fulfilment is the thing that keeps her from it.
"That's my girl - that's my good fucking girl - doing so well-"
She's ashamed to say how the praise shoots straight to her core, tightening around him so impossibly much that she swears Aemond fucking whines when he tries to push inside her again.
"Aw, did you like that, baby? - do you like being my good girl?"
She's not sure if she nods or if it's the force of Aemond's brutal thrusts that is making her head move, but he takes it as confirmation nonetheless.
"Fuck - I could stay buried in your pretty little pussy all fucking day -" he muses, his voice all strained the longer he continues his rapid pace, his skin that pokes out from beneath his shirt meets hers with a soft slap, her face heating up when she feels that her slick is beginning to come away on him each time.
And she knows she's done for as soon as his hand drifts down between her legs, his thumb playing with her pearl with the aid of her arousal.
And he expects me not to make a sound or cum? she thinks to herself.
She keeps herself together through sheer stubbornness if anything, the two overwhelming pleasures at once threatening to have her topple over the edge at any moment.
"My perfect girl - come on, I can't wait any longer, want you to fucking soak my cock, come on-"
He almost sounds impatient, and if the needy tone of his voice doesn't propel her into rapture, the way he presses his thumb against her clit certainly does. And she falls over the edge with a muffled whine into his neck, near sobbing with pleasure as Aemond doesn't let up, fucking into her with abandon to chase his own when he feels the way she clamps around his length.
She lets out another moan to chase the last as she feels Aemond's shuddered breath and the warmth fills her as he hits his own high. Staying like that for a brief, warm moment, before he sets her down on wobbly feet.
He grins at the exhausted look on her face as he pulls her dress down, not missing the way he's already started to leak out of her. But he can't talk, he's all flushed in the face as well, tugging his trousers back over his hips.
She adjusts her hair, all frizzy from the moisture in the cold winter air.
"Come on then." He grins wolfishly.
He walks the opposite direction she expects. And her brows furrow in confusion as Aemond heads to the glass doors, to go inside the venue.
"Where are you going?"
"Can't go without at least saying hello to everyone, now can I? Maybe I'll speak to Cregan Stark."
Her mouth hangs open in shock, "Aemond-"
Your cum is running down my thighs. She wants to say.
And he seems to understand, based on the way he smirks at the warmth that graces her cheeks in embarrassment, "Come on, princess, don't be rude now."
She bites her lip in annoyance, hooking her arm into his.
If she didn't love him, she'd kill him.
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General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorskyy @fan-goddess
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spamgyu · 1 month
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Tuesday // Jihoon drabble
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PARING: Jihoon x Reader GENRE: Angst IN RESPONSE TO THIS REQUEST: i need jihoon to break my heart bc he doesn't know how to balance his career and a relationship 😭 it would so gut wrenching bc he's being quite cold about it, but when he gets back to his studio the flood gates open 😭😭😭 *UNEDITED - Apologies for the grammar and spelling errors // tweaked the request a bit heh.
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You knew dating him wasn't going to be easy – but God, you didn't think it would be this painful.
When you met Jihoon, it was almost as if everything fell into place. From the moment you two had your first conversation, you knew he would be someone that would make a great impact in your life – and you the same with his.
It wasn't long before the friendship had turned into love – a partnership. He had always valued your understanding of his life in the spotlight – his career had always come first and you knew that. Even before you had agreed to be his girlfriend.
But years have come and gone, and there was no signs of things slowing down.
You were human, and it's normal to yearn for a life the rest of your friends had – a married life, a family, life outside of the city.
A boyfriend who would be there to support you through all your milestones.
You had been there for all his, standing at the sidelines as you watched him and his band of brothers accept the recognitions they worked tirelessly for.
But not for yours; because before you, there was them.
His fans.
His company.
His group.
They say that the same reason you fell for someone will ultimately be the reason why the relationship would fall apart. You two used to scoff at that idea. It may have been true for others, but definitely not you two.
At least, not during the first five years of your relationship.
It wasn't long before you realized that the two of you were put in each other's lives not to be together forever, but to be a lesson.
A lesson that love won't ever be enough; because if it was, you wouldn't be standing in the middle of his living room with tears streaming down your face as his remained unwavering. Almost as if his heart isn't breaking just as much as yours.
You two were no longer on the same page. All while you were ready to move on to the next chapter of your life with him, he was ready to wrap his book up – ready to end it.
"I know other idols are able to hide it," Jihoon's voice was cold, eyes dark with not a single glimmer of life behind it. As if he had rehearsed these same lines before. "But I can't, Y/n. I'm not ready to be whatever image you have of us in your head."
"So what? This is it?" Your voice cracked. You no longer cared to wipe your tears – it was far better they blurred your vision than seeing the man you love, end your relationship on a random Tuesday afternoon.
"I'm not changing my stance and I know you aren't, either. I know you want a ring, I know you want kids and– That's just not where I am and I don't think I will be for a long while."
You didn't know what was more painful; the fact that he was right or the fact that, in the back of your head, you wished it wasn't true.
The tears began to fall faster as the realization began to set in.
This was the end.
You knew him better than you knew yourself, he wasn't going to change his mind. Nothing could.
He was everything you have ever known for the past five years and it was all coming to a crashing halt.
"I'm sorry for wasting your time."
・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.
He thought he was handling it well.
Jihoon had kept himself together for four months – all thanks to their jam packed schedule which rarely allowed him any time to be alone with his thoughts, let alone time for sleep.
He prided himself for being able to handle the break up without a single tear being shed; breaking the news to the twelve boys that same day during practice as if it was just any news.
As if it was the most casual conversation.
All while they stood in shock, unable to grasp the sudden end to what seemed to be a picture perfect relationship, he continued their four hour long practice unfazed – brushing off their looks of concern and questions of how he was doing.
But just like the break up, the grief came crashing on him like a semi-truck going at full speed on a random Tuesday.
Jihoon had gone into the studio with Soonyoung with plans to work on their upcoming comeback. He had always looked into his past work for inspiration, playing snippets of the demos he had recorded for previous comebacks to allow the creative juices to flow.
It was going so well, the two of them laughing at how ridiculous the original version of their hit singles sounded.
And then he got to that one song.
The song that was originally meant to be a ballad – the heart-aching song that was meant to be assembled with strings and a piano.
He sat frozen as his voice echoed softly through the speakers. At the time, he had composed the song with no one in mind – simply taking inspiration from his other member's breakups.
Now, he could relate to every single one of the words.
"You okay?" Soonyoung eyed him from the seat next to his.
Jihoon hadn't realized it, but tears began to fall from his eyes – his chest heaving up and down as he tried to contain his emotions. In his head, he thought his composure remained calm; but he was falling apart with each line.
"No." He swallowed, unable to shake his thoughts away. That moment in his living room began to replay in his head – the sight of you in tears, the sound of your broken voice, the pure defeat in your eyes... the moment you walked out without sparing a second glanse.
Soonyoung quickly reached over to the mouse, hitting pause on the music; knowing that it had been the catalyst to the sudden break down of his best friend. "D–do you need time alone? Water?"
Jihoon shook his head. The silence had become much worse than when the music was playing – this time he could hear your voice, the sweet sweet voice he missed so much.
It wasn't until now that he realized how much he missed hearing your laughter, your words of encouragement, your ramblings over the phone – he missed you.
In the past few months, his life had become far too busy that he hadn't realized that there was a gaping hole in his chest in the shape of you. He had been able to fill it with his members, his fans, and his work – but it was all temporary.
A quick patch.
There was no replacing you. No one else's hand fit perfectly in his, no one knew what he was thinking before he could voice it, no one came close to understanding him the way you did – and now it was too late.
You took his cold response to the break up as a sign from whatever was above that this was what was meant to be – blocking his number, his social media accounts, and leaving without a trace. Almost as if you never existed to one another.
You were nothing but a stranger to him and it pained him to know that there was no getting you back.
"I fucked up." He choked out a sob.
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PERMANENT TAGLIST
@thegirlwhoimagined @forcheol @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy @yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult @alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu @bubbly-moon @lllucere @bo-fairykim @pluviophile-xxx @daegutowns @niktwazny303 @fragmentof-indifference @leah-rose03 @haolistic @eclliipsed @joshuahongnumbers @gyuguys @yaaaridk @christinewithluv @yoonzinoooo @livelikejinki @watercolureyes @whoa-jo @primoisellerose @wonwoobestboyy @rakshithanotrao @mingcouper @kkrriissttiinn05 @aksweet7
(for some reason it's not allowing me to tag some who wanted to be added to the perm tag list ... cries... pls check ur settings so i can for future posts)
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onlyseokmins · 10 months
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the devil wears baby blue • h.j.s.
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Pairing: joshua hong x afab!reader Genres: smut (minors PLS dni!), strangers to fucking lol Warnings: joshua hong himself 🚩🚩, swearing, alcohol, reader is a menace and tease too i'm ngl, grinding, groping, slight exhibition kink, degradation, name-calling, objectification, FINGERS (all of it fingering, riding, etc), mentions of knife/surgery, choking, wbk but major hints to big cock josh 💔, marking, licking, alluding to devil imagery uwu, roleplay sort of but not really, kind of public sex acts + a mirror, manhandling, lil slaps, dangerous fashion decisions + "fun" clothing shenanigans during sex ig????, mentions of car sex and oral sex (male rec.), dirty talk (joshua won't stfu), edging, lil bit of pain kink if you squint ❤️‍🩹, and tons of banter/insults, is there a thing like a wealth kink??? - as always lmk if i missed smth WC: 7k A/N: *taps mic* would love to thank @onlymingyus and @duhnova for proofing, hyping, and supporting me on this. also ofc a huge honorary shout out to @hwanghyunjinenthusiast for the constant cheering and screeching at me in and out of dms - hope you enjoy this hehe. idk if jackie will see this but her watch post(s) helped re-inspire me to attack this wip. and finally blowing kisses to the joshushushus in my inbox, i hope you'll like this! ps if anyone recognizes where the last dialogue is from, you receive a kiss on the forehead from me and get to spend one night with joshua!! 😏
↪ this is a loosely based prequel to idiot
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Seungkwan's hand lays steady on your back, guiding you through the crowd much more efficiently than you could have on your own. He has a way of navigating through the waves of people with practiced ease whereas you would rather just be swept away. It's why you enjoy going to the club with him, especially one as crazy as tonight's.
You would think you were still on the dance floor with how many people are bustling around you, mingling and giggling just as much on the sidelines as they do moving to the music. Drinks in hand, they chat and flirt with one another so it takes nearly twice as long to make it to the bar than you think it really should.
"This better be worth it," you shout directly into your friend's ear despite how close you are to him. "For the amount of times my feet have been stepped on!"
There's a sharp pinch from his fingers that snuck to your side. "Told you not to wear those stupid shoes." 
Though you can't exactly hear it, you can see how his pouty lips purse out in a huff. He's also grumbling under his breath and you're able to catch bits and pieces. Things like, "won't matter" and "swept off your feet anyways" and "don't blame me" make you roll your eyes.
"Acting like this is my social debut with the prince of wales."
"Someone's been watching too much Bridgerton. And with how often you fail to come —" he's interrupted by the loud thumping of the bass, "makes sense."
"You can't possibly compare me against your standards, Mister Social Butterfly. You know everyone… and you've probably screwed a lot of them as well."
Seungkwan can only guess a gist of what you actually say and is therefore mildly tempted to let you get lost in the sea of people like he knows you'd rather prefer. But he's finally made it all the way over to what seems like an impenetrable social circle, though the group readily parts to make room for the two of you to squeeze in. So, he'll have to bring you along for the adventure. 
"Hey there!" 
"Hello!"
"Fancy seeing you here."
"I know, right?" 
Greetings are easily interchanged. Most of them are familiar faces — friends of your own or people you've gotten to know simply through Seungkwan's ever-growing collection of new instagram posts. 
Jeonghan's got some poor new soul to flirt with again and Seokmin looks like he'd rather be at home watching cooking videos. Vernon is wearing headphones of all things while Seungcheol has a shit-eating grin on his handsome face. And you instinctively know Mingyu has to be up to no good because you don't see or hear him.
Not that you're actually paying that much attention to the same-old-same people, focus naturally drawn to the tall man standing next to Wonwoo. Light brown hair curls just beneath his ears, shaggy enough that the urge to run your fingers through and imagine what the tug of strands between them might feel like consumes you. It comes as a shock, considering that Jeonghan's had the same style before and you've never felt like this.
You drink in the baby blue shirt that compliments the mystery man's skin tone, top buttons left undone to showcase the delicate silver around his throat and framed by collar bones. The fabric's elegance belies the strength of the body it clothes, material straining tastefully in the tiniest bit over a broad chest and wide shoulders. Sleeves rolled up to accentuate the flex of his forearm down to the long, long fingers wrapped all the way around the glass of alcohol held between them.
"That's Joshua Hong," Seungkwan supplies helpfully though he can't hide how smug he sounds observing you and shares a knowing look with Vernon who snickers.
"Joshua Hong," you repeat and enjoy how easy his name sounds and feels coming off your tongue. "Is that so?"
"Yeah and to my knowledge, he's extremely single."
"Don't tell me that's how you introduce me to other people."
He feigns innocence. "Can't recall but even if I did, bet it's going to work in your favor. Don't look now but it seems like you've caught a big fish."
Of course, when someone tells you not to look, the first thing you'd logically do is look. Glad you weren't caught staring earlier now that the very same man you were drooling over has noticed your existence and is staring directly at you. 
Brown irises drop down to scan your figure and the suggestiveness of it lights something deep within you. You're quick to nudge off Seungkwan's arm around your waist when Joshua's eyes linger a second longer on it than you'd expect, ignoring your friend's sassy mutter of "hook, line, and sinker."
"I… I really don't like that implication, 'Kwan."
"Sure you don't."
Joshua Hong's intent gaze is far from unsavory. Even if it was more perverse in nature, you think you'd feel drunk off the same amount of power it fills you with and you haven't had a single drop of alcohol yet. A swear word escapes under your breath at the dampness of your back — and elsewhere — before sending the admiring man a demure smile of acknowledgement and turning once more to Seungkwan.
"You were criticizing my shoes earlier?"
"'Cause you can barely walk in them!"
"Then let's put these bad boys to good use."
Your friend can only shake his head as you stride away. He'll keep an occasional eye on you from afar for the rest of the night but he has a hunch things will be… fine. He hopes. Wonwoo did say Joshua was a decent man, after all.
He'll have to be… if he's willing to put up with you, Seungkwan thinks to himself with a cringe as he watches. 
Vernon hands over a much appreciated beer and he sidles up to the unbothered man's side, jutting his chin out in your direction and asking, "Are you ready for some entertainment?"
"Yo, always bro."
"Cheers to that."
Meanwhile, you've made it to the new company without stumbling once — something you're very proud of. You nod at Joshua. Nothing more than a soft flutter of eyelashes, alerting him that you're aware of his presence but indulging in nothing more. Instead, you choose to lean comfortably into his companion's space.
"Hi Woo, care to share?"
The bespectacled man wordlessly offers his nearly empty glass of wine, always easygoing and ever perceptive. Unlike his best friend who never fails to be endearing but can't take a hint to save his life. One of the many reasons why Mingyu has never succeeded as a wingman —  unfathomably clumsy but still loveable in all aspects to steal everyone's heart involved.
You finish the rest of Wonwoo's drink off with a satisfied hiss at the taste but not without a snort. "I didn't mean that, silly."
He cracks a smile, returning the teasing with a fake, reproaching scold of your name. "Could've told me you wanted to steal my buddy and not drain all my alcohol!"
Joshua laughs — loud and clear above the din of noises surrounding you. It has an air of gracefulness to it and you're sure the club brightens in a way that's totally not from the strobe lights going crazy.
"So, this is Seungkwan's friend…"
You jab Wonwoo's side with a huff. "Hey, I'm much more than that!"
"If it's any consolation," Joshua cuts in with another laugh and a handshake, taking on a self introduction. "I'm just some guy named Joshua. Hope that doesn't disappoint."
"Just some guy, huh? One that wears a Royal Oak?" 
He thrillingly doesn't let go of your hand, keeping a firm but gentle grasp when turning it with his to properly glance at the notorious status symbol wrapped around it. The steel casing glints just as fiercely as the sapphire glass over white gold hour-markers embedded on its face. 
"Yep, still just some guy that's called Josh. Joshua Hong, to be exact. Scared you off yet?" 
"I wear heels that have a one hundred percent chance of breaking my ankle to a place where there's a terrible combo of dancing and drinks. But you think I'd be scared by a pretty boy wearing thirty-some jewels around his wrist?"
He steals another appreciative look up and down your body. Not as fiery as the first one but still bold without shame, striking another bolt of heat that flashes through your veins and simmers in your lower abdomen. 
"Taste. And bite. I'd expect nothing less from someone like you."
"Someone like me?" you scoff as he winks, taking a step back and extending your arm as far as it will go with the notion for you to follow.
"Dance with me?"
Wonwoo had quietly faded into the background and slipped away for another refill. Smart guy. There's no one to worry about leaving behind when you accept this unfamiliar man's invitation and let him whisk you in the direction of the dancefloor. But not before catching Seungkwan's mild and supportive yet watchful gaze before he raises his beer in a mock salute.
It's almost cute at how inept Joshua is maneuvering through the tumultuous flow and ebb of moving bodies compared to said good friend. The way his taller frame looks more like a poor cruise ship tossed helplessly in the waves of the ocean than the stationary lighthouse and its reassuring beacon you'd expect causes a chuckle.
"You're almost as bad at this as I am."
He shoots an apologetic smile at the same time someone once again jostles his shoulder, pushing him closer into you. "Nightclubs really aren't my scene."
You're not complaining about the aided proximity that lets you hear what he says without strain. Although you do try to match the beat as it changes to something more sensual yet still playful. Going along with the rhythm of the other dancers rather than against much smoother than Joshua's awkward attempt to mimic. He sticks behind you, failing to hide the blatant mesmerization at how you sway effortlessly to the beat.
"You're not bad at this at all."
You shrug. "I've been here often enough to blend in better than most. So tell me, what's a rich boy's usual scene then? Shanqin Bay's clubhouse?"
"Hah, you wanna come with me sometime and find out?"
"Only if you can promise a fun experience… oh," you throw a smirk at him over your shoulder, "and to cover all the costs, of course."
"A pretty thing like you would have anyone saying yes and wrapped around your little finger." 
"Maybe, but only if they're worth my attention."
"Afraid to disappoint yet again when I spend most hours of the day in the operating room."
You turn abruptly to face him, grateful for the hand that shoots out to support your elbow despite his surprise at your dubious side-eye. "Are you a doctor?"
"Maybe."
"Director's son?"
"Cliché enough for you yet?"
"I recall someone who's wearing a Royal Oak saying I had good taste so I'm not going to complain. Though it would have been quite the story to hear you were the one under the knife," you take a step closer and slip a finger underneath his silver chain to tempt him closer, "to end up looking this good." When large hands hesitate to land on your hips, you raise an eyebrow. "Thought a surgeon would have a steadier grip."
"Oh." Brown eyes flicker with a carnal desire, focusing on your lips. "You expect me to be a rich, talented playboy and not be naturally handsome too?" 
"Sorry, Doctor Hong but there has to be at least something wrong with you."
The polite smile he'd been wearing all night quirks up at the corners, changing into something more on edge. A little dangerous. Beckoning excitement. He spins you back around, hands solidly landing on your sides — this time without reserve — to prevent your lower bodies from touching and changes the subject back to when you approached Wonwoo and him.
"Do you always take drinks from guys?"
"Ah, hm. Just the good ones."
"Good alcohol?" His breath is hot against the ear he's speaking directly into. "Or… good boys?"
Biting your lower lip does nothing to hide the unfettered glee you're feeling. "Alcohol, of course." A breathy sigh and you take the leap. "Want a taste?"
There's no need to ask twice. It's like the right key turning its lock. The doctor's initial awkward movements are nowhere to be found as one hand smoothly leaves your hip, turning your chin toward him to meet you halfway with his lips ready to brush against yours. 
At the last minute, he backs off and turns your chin to its original position of facing forward with a smirk you can't see. Who cares about a missed kiss when his other hand slides across your stomach? Urging you to press your ass backwards and grind against the very obvious bulge that his khakis do nothing to hide.
Its growing hardness and promising length cause you to automatically moan, arching your back with the feral need to feel more. Your head tilts to the side, hips swiveling and swaying not to the beat but the rise of his cock. The position willingly grants Joshua access to lick, suck, and bite at the exposed skin. 
He hums along to the music with a melodic voice from what you can hear, though you find more enjoyment in the consistent vibrations against your neck. A naughty hand plays with the tucked-in hem of your blouse and an occasional finger teasingly slips under the waistline of your jeans.
You can now feel Joshua's smirk when in turn, your fingers tangle in the bottom hairs of his mullet. His lips curl up, moving to nibble behind your other ear and breathe in your scent. As delightfully predicted, there's a distinct pull by your rings when you tug them free from the strands that has him pausing. Eliciting a sharp hiss and equally as sharp — but appreciative — thrust against your backside. 
In retaliation, the lax hand caressing your throat tightens around it ever so slightly while he growls in your ear, "You said there has to be something wrong with me, right?"
"Mhm, oh yeah. Totally."
"Wanna fuck around and find out, beautiful?"
Hook, line, and sinker was damn right, Boo Seungkwan. Of course, the devil would be wearing a shirt the same shade as the sky where heaven's clouds make their home.
And you eagerly take the forbidden fruit — his hand, once again — and teeter after him. The red flags are already starting to fly at full mast but into the dimly lit hallway you go, elated to find an empty and quiet corner right before the stairs leading down to the bathrooms.
Underneath the neon glow of the exit sign, Joshua pins you against the wall with your arms laying on his shoulders. If you thought the attacks from his mouth were rough on the dance floor, they turn ten times more animalistic now that he has something to support you with other than strong arms and big hands. A pair of soft lips and the warm wet tongue between them contrast with the digging in of his teeth that follow your necklace chain to its adorning pendant. 
It hangs in the v-neck window of your blouse and he lets out a tiny grunt of displeasure at the breasts being concealed away by the fabric and its many buttons. That doesn't stop him from tugging the bottom of the shirt free like a petulant child, nothing preventing his fingers now free to tickle and feel up the bare skin beneath. 
This man is good at distraction. You don't think much of the light grazing beneath your tits, only a fleeting and casual touch. It feels so good when he cups under them like an additional support for the bra you're wearing and squeezes, causing you to keen and push yourself further into him. Then quick as lightning, one hand sneaks around the back to unhook the bra's clasp and the other deftly unbuttons your jeans.
"Joshua!" you squeak in protest, stepping back and pressing flat against the wall. You're quick to rush and slap a hand against your chest to keep the beloved strapless bra that's served you well from falling to the ground. "Is your red flag undressing someone in public?"
"Only if you insist 'cause surely I would never decline such a request being the gentleman that I am." The doctor makes no further move despite the way he licks his lips and teases, only chuckling at the menacing way you squint. "Just know my full intentions are to be touching all over and especially under whatever layers you're wearing very shortly."
There's no use hiding the whine that escapes when he places a hand on the wall next to you and leans in with a smirk.
"However, sweetheart… " 
You catch his line of sight dart off to the left and your heart plummets, the fear of being left high and dry (wet) setting in. "Josh — "
"You'll have to forgive this rich boy's schemes. You see, I've always been very spoiled and just have to take what I want right away. And you're much too irresistible…" 
He speaks casually. Like your jeans weren't suddenly unzippered and he isn't currently running a tantalizing finger on the fabric below the waistband of your panties, causing them to soaken further down. Way more than they already had and almost where you need him but also not even close in the slightest. 
"Though as a rich boy," he continues, "I'm more than familiar with providing a small courtesy here and there. Would this club's filthy bathroom offer enough privacy for you, gorgeous?"
"… Only if you make sure I'm presentable enough to get down there… and back up here after, for when I have to leave with my friends."
Joshua's eyes widen before he's throwing his head back and laughing, bright and cheery like he's not going to rearrange your guts. "So you don't expect to go home with me? Maybe I won't be such a walking red flag to you."
"Doubtful. Now fix me up, Doctor." 
"With pleasure." 
It's not like there are as many people milling about as in the main area. Still, it's good to be conscientious. The same adept hands re-fasten your top undergarment efficiently. When he ducks his head to kindly fix your pants — which is sort of hot — you take the opportunity to whisper in his ear for shit-and-giggles to gauge his reaction.
"You know there's a front clasp too."
He glances up from where he's eye-level with your covered breasts, eyes darkening. Bingo. 
"What a little whore we have here, hm?"
The nonchalant, degrading question and burning desire in his gaze makes your knees weaken, arousal skyrocketing. Enough that you almost throw all caution to the wind for him to fuck you. Right here, right now. But then he's pulling away, offering a palm you can't seem to refrain from taking a hold of. And ever the true picture of being a gentleman — helps you descend down the dark stairwell.
Your killer heels really do nothing for you physically (besides the threat of rolling an ankle) because it doesn't matter how tall or short you end up with them on. It's the confidence and ego that are heightened exponentially, which is all that matters. 
That's why you follow Joshua Hong into the sketchy bathroom, let him lock the door, and bat your eyelashes with a coy smile. Leaning against the sink and fussing with your blouse as he approaches like a predator eyeing up its prey. Greedily drinking in the bare skin revealed by each button that's undone until only one is still fastened — right across your tits — that the man can unclasp himself if he so chooses.
Barely anything stopped him before anyways.
And that's what also fuels you to put your arms around his neck, pressing your bodies close together. Even closer by hooking your right leg across his hip, the point of your heel digging intentionally into the back of his other thigh. It's hot and hard — the dick bulge that keeps growing pressed tightly into the snug warmth of your core — and Joshua lets you grind down and dampen his khakis for a few moments longer than expected.
"Desperate, aren't you? Didn't wanna fuck in public 'cause you're freakier behind closed doors?"
"Just a little." You fight back the urge to whimper or admit anything to him. Like you aren't humping his length that only swells more and feels achingly thicker the harder you rut against it, eyelids fluttering the few times it's able to deliciously spread your pussy lips just the slightest through your clothes. "I'm so wet — "
"The more of a mess you leave on my pants, the longer I'll have to edge you while waiting for them to dry." Joshua grins cockily at you trying to force your hips to stop themselves only to struggle pathetically in vain. "Think you'd like that. Haven't even gotten to fuck this hot little cunt yet and I'm already certain I wouldn't mind being buried in there for hours. But don't know if your friends will stick around for that long…"
"J-Josh, ah — Shua… mhm!"
"So I think you'd better behave if you know what's good for you," he stills your hips hard, "fuckin' slut."
You mewl at the hard, rude thrust that bumps your clit as if he was actually fucking you. Like goo, you let him manhandle you around so you're bent over and facing the smudged mirror, hands gripping tightly to each side of the sink basin. Aided by the reflections, you witness how he shamelessly ogles the tempting ass that's been rubbing all over him all night. And of course that means you have to perk up and wiggle your hips, giving him quite a show.
The small distance between you clears the lust cloud and you throw a smoldering glance over your shoulder. "If you fuck me with my heels on, I'll give you a chance with them off."
Joshua swats your ass — not very hard but you release a yelp of surprise. "Wasn't aware that you were running the show, sweetheart."
"It's my backside you're looking at."
"Knew you were mouthy the minute I saw you. You're aware of how kind I am, so let me give you a choice." He's anything but kind as he sighs and leans his weight over top of you. Despite the bracing strength of his arms, you feel suffocated by just being caged in between them and the overpowering scent of his cologne. "I shut you up with either my fingers in your mouth or around your throat."
Oh… decisions, decisions! Long fingers that would surely feel best deep inside your pussy but that wasn't one of the options. You purse your lips in thought and arch up, balancing the heavy cock supported by your ass and unconsciously pouting. Joshua has the audacity to look at the time while brushing back his hair and clicks his tongue.
"Wow, I'm letting you choose between sucking on my fingers like a slut or being choked like a whore and you still can't decide? What a high maintenance toy."
The urge to scoff is extremely strong. "Sucking it is then, Doctor Hong," you say sweetly and then add with a sneer, "like the perfect slut that I truly am."
"When your friends all said you were nothing but a gentle soul, I knew they were duped. Only one was partially truthful in saying you could be sassy which doesn't even come close. Little do they know there's a bratty cockwhore with quite a bite underneath all that charm."
"Haven't fucked any of them, that's why. No plans to either."
"Yeah, what was it you like — oh right, good boys?" He laughs — low, mean, and degrading. "Then what am I, sweetheart?"
"A doctor who's full of himself and needs taken down a few, ha, pegs."
"Ah, there it is." Joshua undoes the final button, slipping a curious finger beneath the bra's front hook pulling your tits together. You shiver when it snaps against your skin after he retracts, pointer finger tracing a lazy line up your throat to its final destination. "The attitude."
You willingly part your lips, lolling your tongue out mischievously to match the roll of your eyes. "Someone gets off on it."
"Is that so?" He smears the lipgloss on your lower lip by pulling it down before releasing it. "Do you think this is all a coincidence, darling?" Meeting the hardened gaze in the mirror, you shake your head. "The minute I saw such a sparkling gem on Wonwoo's story, I just had to have it for myself."
It's not hard to guess what he's referring to. A couple weeks ago, you wore enough scraps of fabric to just cover your nipples and the areas between your legs. Drinking far too much and hanging off of the WonGyu duo's broad frames while the whole gang partied it up together at Vernon's. You had even asked them to send you the videos and pictures after because damn, you did look hot as fuck.
Who knew it would be bait for an entitled pretty boy? 
"At least you waited to find me when I wasn't drunk."
"Much more fun to break someone sober."
"Glad to know consensual exists in your vocabulary."
"How about it — will you let me destroy this little pussy of yours and ruin it to keep you crawling back to me for more?"
"Sure, if you ever stop talking and actually do something — "
Joshua's quick to shut you up, almost cracking your jaw with the harsh thumb that's jammed in the corner of your mouth to prop it open. The following two fingers are thrust cruelly inside as a replacement so it can move to keep your chin steady. They're able to reach so far when pinning down your tongue, ending up wedged near the back of your throat so you're already gagging around them. 
"Most sluts behave the second I drop the nice guy act. But boy oh boy, it only makes you act up more, eh?" 
He finally does away with your bra to allow those gorgeous tits to spill out and casually rips the garment from your body like it's personally offended him. Maybe it has. Shoving it away into his back pocket and then urgently tugging your jeans down. The binding position you're left in helps keep your shaky legs in place while you cling to the sink like it's a lifeline. Upper body supported only by the cruel hold he has on your face until he yanks it back so you're flush against him instead, the cool baby-blue silk of his shirt set ablaze by your shared body heat. 
"Next time, wear something that has easier access. Or better yet… maybe nothing at all or I'll be forced to rip it off." A piercing set of eyes attempt to glare into yours that roll back delightfully despite what's likely some snark ends up sounding all jumbled. "Oh yes, there will be a next time, sweetheart. I have to train this cunt to yearn for my cock — and you don't think you'll get it that easily, right?"
Joshua chuckles darkly knowing you can't reply. But liking to be full of surprises, you relax your upper jaw while his fingers trail across your pelvis and close your lips around the ones in your mouth. Suckling and swirling once the tension in them relaxes despite the naughty thought of biting. That doesn't eliminate the occasional graze of your teeth as a threat, responding to his words in your own way.
"Just look at yourself, slobbering all over… bet you suck cock like a champ. And prolly like it real messy. How well-trained you'd look trying to balance on these pointed heels while I fuck that bratty mouth."
You moan at the visual he's painted in your head. 
"That's right, darling." There's a mean pinch to your clit followed by the man's groan at the ruined fabric squelching between his fingertips and how the covered little nub was already begging for friction. "Now tell me how long your cunt's been warming up and soaking these drenched panties?"
"Since the beginning…" you admit once he's freed your sore mouth and chooses to bully your breasts next. "When you looked at me."
He snickers, pushing your underwear to the side and petting at the bare slippery folds. Just able to barely see a small glimpse of where his actions play with your lower body in the mirror. At least your expressions make up for what he misses seeing.
"Aw, this soft pussy started drooling the minute I laid eyes on you? While I was imagining all the things I could do to these tits," the hand on one of them palms at the rounded flesh hard. "This ass," his pelvis grinds in a slow circle against it. "Mhm, and of course, this hidden gem." 
At that, a thumb brutally rubs at your clit while plunging a finger inside the warm, wet walls that eagerly pulse around it. You weren't wrong about how good the digit would feel inside, the length and stretch of its bony knuckle feeling good enough to substitute as a mini-dick when Joshua starts a slow and methodical pace with it.
"Thought about having you spread out in the backseat of my Bugatti La Voiture Noire, you'd look like a vision laying across its leather seats. And the best thing? No one can see inside so you'll get your much desired privacy while being right out in the open."
Then he's adding another finger, longer than the first. And finally one more with an additional push in and out of the others. Clearly his experience on how to work a pussy is more than helpful. Alternating between stuffing your hole full of all three or changing up the pace and number each turn. 
And of course, your chest is attended to as well. Both nipples tugged in iterations to match the rhythm of each finger spearing into your cunt, the pendant of your necklace bouncing in time. Without fail, he hits the bundle of nerves with a deadly precision that has you going slack against him.
"Maybe we should do that 'cause," he mumbles in your ear, "this filthy hole is awfully good at convincing me to spoil its owner like no one else. Let's see if it can tell me how much it'll want me to fill it up one day."
Your ears ring with the devastating screams of white noise at the sudden stop. The moans you were letting out trail off into a dissatisfied growl. His hand falls away from your upper body while the one in between your legs merely sits nice and snug, still inside but not moving. Far too relaxed, limp even.
"Joshua!"
"C'mon, weren't you listening? Convince me."
"Fuck you," is what you spit out, glaring at the challenging and impossibly smug reflection of the menace behind you. 
"You didn't say fuck off, so… I'm waiting." 
Another check at his watch like he's bored infuriates you enough to move your hips. Whining at how his fingers fail to stiffen and only follow your pitiful motions back and forth. Out of protest, you reach behind and take a harsh hold of the hard length you're able to grab.
"Watch it, darling!" Joshua flinches and the way his cock twitches dulls the venomous words that come next. "Or I'll leave you here all needy and by yourself, waiting for some other pathetic dick to hop onto in order to satiate just a little bit of this wet and slutty pussy's behaviors."
Well, that idea doesn't appeal to you whatsoever so you lean on the sink with a huff to do what needs done. It's a struggle to stay balanced on your heels while grabbing at his wrist but a small part of you knows he won't let you fall, a bicep supporting under your breasts. Revenge comes sweetly by digging your nails into the tense muscle of his forearm and leaving scratch marks that have him hissing.
And now you know for sure —  despite the doctor's incredibly huge ego and big talk, Joshua Hong's no better than a painslut.
"Hah," you breathe out and start to slowly rock your hips. "Disrespectfully, go to hell."
Ignoring the abrasive insult — because he's a demon anyways — Joshua focuses on the wet suctioning sound growing louder the faster you move. The feeling of your tits and necklace hitting his arm to the beat of your hip bounces and enjoying the view of how his fingers disappear beyond the jiggle of your asscheeks. Up into the tight heat of velvety walls as you force his hand to behave and serve your needs like one of your dildos, though they've never been this uncooperative.
"That's it. Yeah, there we go… just like that. Go ahead and make yourself cum riding my fingers, beautiful. Uh-huh, now who's using me like a little whore to get off?"
You're already losing yourself. Waiting for that rising wave to crest because despite his annoying mouth, Joshua's fingers are more than skilled enough to hurl you into a delightful climax. As long as nothing interrupts it.
"Answer me — or I'll make you choke yourself."
"Mhm…"
He likes seeing how your face contorts, moans getting louder. It's too addicting which is why he growls out, "Do it." 
It's a feat to let go of the sink but the reward is to move his arm around your bra-line to your throat, making his hand envelope it. The visual in the mirror is depraved — limbs all wrapped and tangled with each other — and your half-closed eyes taunt the searing gaze in the mirror, repeating his words right back. 
"Why not do it yourself, Doctor?"
"Are you some sort of succubus or what?" He spits out the question like it's the germs on the toilet seat next to you. Freeing himself momentarily from the grip of your hand and your cunt, the man's at least nice enough to assuage the pissed off whine with a consoling lick up your neck and tugs impatiently at your pants. "Take these off."
"Go fuck yourself," you mutter darkly with half the mind to walk out of there. But you do as he says, quickly shimmying them off while your clit buzzes and twitches angrily at the neglect of stimulation again. 
Joshua's eyes don't look away, his hands steadying your hips and your pussy aching when you hear how he slowly slurps on his fingers to clean them. Once you step back into your heels, he throws the jeans over his shoulder. 
"Careful with the phone," you threaten. 
Joshua snorts and bends over to secure a strap for you — sucking harshly on the skin of your thigh as a "you're welcome" but pulling away before your hands can tangle in his hair and keep him down there. 
"Wrong thing to say to someone who likes broken and expensive things. Shouldn't you be warning me not to break something else?" Suddenly, your other shoe dangles precariously off your foot when he uses a strong hand to lift and support your leg onto the sink's surface. "Like this poor pussy?" 
The straining burn in your muscles and the added chill of the porcelain is all alleviated by harsh rubbing at the tender skin of your entrance. Middle and pointer finger eagerly prying sloppy pussy lips apart once again.
"Ah, but I might enjoy that." 
A clear glob of arousal drips from your hole fluttering and clenching around nothing. Joshua leers hungrily past your shoulder at the mirror's erotic display of your exposed cunt and the wetness shining under the buzz of the bathroom's fluorescent lights.
"Dirty and yet it's such a pretty little jewel. Sparkling and glistening so, so lovely that I can't wait to watch it shatter while playing with it."
Finally, all three fingers from before work in tandem to scissor repeatedly inside of your tight warmth without forgiveness. This time, the devil has nothing but good intentions to send you over the peak of pleasure. His eyes can't stop feasting on the raunchy way your greedy hole gobbles up his fingers. The loud squelches accompanying his motions echo around the small enclosed space, mixing with the warm breath hitting the side of his cheek from your gasping moans.
Joshua thinks it's mighty cute how puffy your outer pussy lips grow and struggle to spread around the thick and long digits shoved inside plus the onslaught of his thumb bullying your clit. The angle shows the slightest bulge of them relentlessly stroking the bundle of nerves that has your leg twitching from the sheer pleasure.
He focuses on bringing you there, all on what you're feeling rather than his own pleasure because you have the most convincing cunt ever that deserves to be ravaged by a large, girthy cock. A shame it has to wait because he cannot give in so easily. But you're definitely a piece of work. Joshua likes that. 
"Gonna keep making a mess on my fingers, darling? Leave 'em all sweet and wet enough for me to wrap around my dick later and pretend it's your pussy instead."
You'll be the death of him when your head rolls into the crease of his neck, drool dampening the skin as you mouth senselessly at the vein protruding beneath. There's a sharp sting — the certain kind he hasn't felt in a very long time. A telltale warning of a hickey, the beautiful colors of red and purple already rushing to the surface and decorated by little nips of your teeth after you soothe the pain with your tongue.
No one marks up Joshua Hong. Sure, he's had lipstick stains before but those can easily be swiped off with a handkerchief and washed away in the shower. He can't help but smirk though, knowing when he eventually wipes your sticky lipgloss off, something of you will remain for a bit.
However you can't go without a little punishment. If you can even call it that when he returns to wrapping a hand around your throat. Anyone else who dared to leave a mark would be walked away from. But you — you simply lose enough oxygen causing your head to spin more pleasantly than it already is. 
And you claw at his forearm, scratching it up ten times more to serve as a further reminder for Joshua to look at. You're by no means urging him to stop but to earnestly keep going while simultaneously searching for something — anything — to anchor you down as you float into an almost unconscious state of pure ecstasy. 
It's by far the strongest, most intense orgasm you'd ever experienced. Becoming nothing but a bag of bones in his arms as your walls pulsate around his fingers and the fruitful expenditure of your release drips down his wrist.
He stays in that position, unable to move anyways with the vice-like grip of your spasming cunt cramping his fingers. Instead, drawing out the pleasure as much as possible by squeezing and releasing the pressure on your throat over and over again. The true picture of debauchery — heaven and sin mixed in one — and he kind of wishes for a third arm to take a photo for a keepsake. 
Everything in your body aches deliciously. You feel both refreshed and exhausted when you finally come to and even then Joshua supports your weak body as you try to regain control over your wits and whereabouts.
"Pants," you croak out and wave him off when he tries to gentlemanly assist. Which he still kind of has to when you almost topple face-first on legs that feel like jelly. "Bra." 
Joshua's a little less enthusiastic to hand that over, bitter sarcasm lacing his words. "Wow, won't even grant me a souvenir?"
"Boo-hoo," you gripe back and pretend not to notice the eyes glued to the way your tits bounce when adjusting the garment around them. Turning to look in the mirror, you work on dulling the "just got fingered in the bathroom" appearance. "It's not like you need one and it seems even less likely you'll keep anything from a stranger, especially lingerie."
"Hm, I like how well you read me."
"Of course you do, fuels that large privileged ego. Don't get used to it. But, want me to do something about that one though?"
He coughs at the rather suggestive insult, shifting his pants and shirt that does absolutely nothing to hide the messy boner you're referencing. "Guess I did a great job if you're begging for it already."
"Oh, for goodness sake I'm being courteous."
"Cute." 
Joshua admits it almost like he's startled by the words that escape his mouth. Further surprising both of you with a clumsy, sloppy kiss to the cheek when he leans over to fasten the top button of your blouse. As if embarrassed, he's already halfway out the door when he remembers to mention, "I'll be thinking of you darling, look forward to your call!"
You're left staring at the saliva spot reflected on your cheek in shock. And then, you wipe it off with the rest of the accumulated sweat to make yourself a bit more presentable and then head back to the club as naturally as possible.
Dr. Hong is seemingly nowhere in sight as expected. You figure it would be hard to return with a raging boner despite the low lighting and he probably left through the back exit to likely jerk off in his ridiculously expensive car. The visual of white ropes of cum streaming past the steel band of the Royal Oak around his wrist haunts your mind, making your aching core buzz to life again and your sticky panties even grosser.
Out of pure spite, you hope he stains his shirt too. 
Luckily, Seungkwan is still at the bar when you wobble over in search of him. He shouts your name in mock shock, assessing your appearance with pursed lips and eyeballing your figure dubiously. 
"You look like hell."
"Yeah?" you laugh it off as nonchalantly as possible, unaware of the phone in your back pocket lighting up with a returned text message from a newly saved number and a scandalous picture attached. "I just got back."
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onlyseokmins: July 2023 ©
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blossomthepinkbunny · 2 months
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Charlie as an underdeveloped character
One thing I was genuinely dissapointed by when watching Hazbin Hotel was that they never cared to dive into Charlie's Morality more.
I feel like a lot of people can agree that Charlie felt very flat/sidelined in a show she was supposed to be the main character of and I think that that's because they ran out of Character Moments for her. Her Backstory is pretty much just infodumped at the start so there's nothing you can really explore there (except for her relationship with her parents ig but they only really brought that up and resolved it in one episode). Alastor has the mystery behind him of what his goals really are, Angel Dust has his arc about standing up to his abuser, Vaggie has her dramatic backstory reveal thing and Sir pentious gets focus as the one real guest at the hotel and with his goal to be redeemed.
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Charlie really has no conflict at all, which is weird since the whole plot is that her idea is relentlessly mocked and never succeeds until the end. But she doesn't have a personal conflict. All the issues she faces come from the ignorance of the people around her who don't support her, but never from who she is. She never has to change. They try to hint at this with her being possibly invasive and not respecting boundaries in the Angel Dust and Valentino episode. But the episode doesn't focus on her and Angel as they talk it out and she realizes how she might have to change as well (from how I remember it). It focuses on Husk and Angel's relationship instead.
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I feel like the easiest route they could've taken for her character was that of a moral dilemma. Charlie believes in second chances and being able to change demons and her opposite is Adam, who doesn't think demons should be redeemed and should just be killed instead. But it's never specified if Charlie truly believes everyone deserves a second chance or if there are restrictions to that. Adam sings a song in the first episode and explaines his reasoning for why he believes demons shouldn't be saved, which is that they had their chance to be good and didn't choose it and now they can't expect another one (I guess the real reason is that he's just an asshole who doesn't care but that's because Vivzepop can't write Villains so I'll just pretend like that's his real reason).
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The problem is that Adam is presented as fully in the wrong and I just don't agree with that. I'm not saying he's right with killing random demons of course but the show never takes the time to consider that sometimes people go to hell because they are actually terrible and have done inexcusable things. Like yeah, someone who had an addicition or a mental health problem while they were alive obviously doesn't deserve eternal suffering without any chance for redeemability, but we know that those aren't the only people that go to hell (in the pilot it's literally confirmed that real life criminals like Jeffrey Dahmer are also down there).
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The show blatanly shows us characters like Valentino who are shown to do irredeemable things and be purely evil.
My question is just if Charlie would also look at someone like Valentino and say: "Yeah they deserve to be saved and get a second chance". She obviously thinks Valentino sucks, which we see in the Episode were she meets him.
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So like, what would she have done if in the second episode someone like him stood at their door and wanted to be redeemed instead of Sir Pentious. Does she draw a line? Or would she have really heard him out? Her morality with this "everybody deserves a second chance" attitude is so underexplored even though it would have been the perfect place to develop her more. If they had confronted her with an actually tough situation, where she is presented with a truly terrible person, they could've had two interesting ways to take her character.
She could've accepted the person and with that she'd have taken her role a fully 'good' saviour for the demons. Someone who is truly without judgement, or atleast believes that there is good in everyone that just has to be brought out. Which would've also given room to think about if people like that are even inherently good, if they can 'excuse' the actions of terrible people and still want to help them. This would have made her a very extreme character in her believes, but something coherent and definitive is actually something Charlie desperately needs for her characterization.
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The other way would've had her reject the person and with that she would have to face the idea that maybe Adam isn't fully wrong. In that situation she would have found herself in a similar position to the Angels in heaven, where she basically is the one deciding over what's acceptable and what isn't. This could lead to her having a moral dilemma. Is she even a good person if she's deciding what's moral and what isn't? Can she just be okay with making exceptions to her idea to protect her people? Does she even want to view EVERY demon as her family? Or does she think there are some demons that maybe deserve death?
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I'm just really dissapointed that the show takes such an interesting idea and such a difficult topic and then just does nothing with it. What we view as bad and good and which people we judge harder than others will always depend on social norms and the situation. It's a topic with no real right and wrong answer because there are so many things to consider. But this moral grey conflict that is literally one of the MAIN CONFLICTS in Hazbin Hotel is so incredibly underwritten, that it's not even funny.
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Instead of acknowledging the difficulty of the subject Hazbin does what it does best and takes the easy route with seemingly clear right and wrong sides. This is especially stupid, since morally grey characters are supposed to be the point of the show. Like there are these demons who have done bad things and who aren't perfect, but that doesn't make them bad people. Its about revealing that a person has layers (which the writing doesn't). This is also a big point in Helluva Boss, where characters like Blitzø or Stolas who mess up repeatedly, are supposed to be shown as still having interests, aspirations, and good things to them.
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The easy route which is taken constantly in both shows however makes it so that Charlie is completely in the right and anyone who criticises her is one of the evil people who try to ruin her plan, just like Adam. Who's also such a straw man for anyone who even dares to bring any objection to Charlies ideas, because everyone who does is apparently a hypocrite who just doesn't understand her and would rather side with genocide (I wonder were Vivzepop takes her inspiration from).
Charlies writing was just really dissapointing with almost never any reflection being done on her part. She doesn't have really striking moments, discussions or ideas to her in a show she's supposed to lead. That's just an issue that comes with Vivzepop never really putting as much work into her female characters, even tough they would desperately need it.
I know that only the first season is out so far, but I highly doubt thay they'll bring up a discussion like this in s2. Especially since Adam is dead now and the Angels will probably try to work more with the demons, after Sir Pentious' redemtion and the reveal of the exterminations to them. Also the Vees, Lillith and Alastor will be more of focus from what we can assume by the ending scenes.
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I just don’t like that Viv can take interesting conflicts and write them to be completely one-dimensional and boring.
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scribblesofagoonerr · 2 months
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God loves a trier though, right? | Inner Demons
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⟫ Alphabet Challenge, G - God loves a trier though, right?
Pairings: leah williamson x teen reader, arsenal wfc x teen reader
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Hi, sorry for the wait on this. This is a bit scrappy, not been proofread at all and I'm currently battling a headache while writing this so apologies if it doesn't make much sense, like at all!
I'm overwhelmed by the amount of support on this. It's definitely become one of my favourite things to write!
As always, my asks are open for anyone to drop me any ideas’ on this fic or anything else that people would like to see be written, however, I am only comfortable writing anything platonic though :)
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Reader returns from the hospital, which leads to a heart-to-heart with some usual classic teenage sarcasm.
TW: heavy angst and mentions of SH, MH, suicide and death.
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"Home sweet home" Leah pulls the car into the driveway and turns off the ignition, turning to look at you.
You fake a smile in the blonde's direction as you tug at the sleeves of your hoodie to fight the urge. "Glad to be home" You speak quietly.
You knew going home wasn't going to be as easy as you thought it would be, the reminder was right there in front of you.
A reminder of what you did, what could have been your end.
Until Leah had walked in and saved you.
You didn't really want to die, the voices on the internet were just too much to deal with.
The hate from the fans. The pressure from the media.
At times, everything can be overwhelming. But, being home makes it easier to regain control of being able to hurt yourself.
If you're being honest, that really does scare you.
The vague memory from that night still haunts you as you walk through the flat, sending a chill up your spine.
"Bubs?" Leah calls out to you, as she watches you freeze as you pass the bathroom.
"Uh, I'm... I'm a bit tired. Think I'm gonna have a nap" You tell her, slowly moving in the direction of your bedroom.
"Alright, I'll go and cook us some dinner. I doubt you've eaten much in the last few days if hospital food is anything to go by huh?" Leah jokes as she presses a light kiss to the top of your head. "Have a good nap, I'll wake you up when it's ready, yeah?" She adds.
Slumping into your own space, you glance around your bedrom and you're glad to see it's exactly how you left it.
You had missed your private space when you was in the hospital and you're just glad enough that the blonde hadn't gone to the extreme measures of removing your bedroom door at least.
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"So the girls wanted to come around tonight but I thought it was best to hold off for now" Leah slides the dinner plate in front of you, you can't help but smile when you see it's smiley faces and nuggets.
One of the only things that Leah can actually cook.
You actually missed the small things like that while you were on an extended stay in the hospital.
"Sure" You agree as you reach for the ketchup bottle and squeeze a decent amount on your plate. "I'll be able to see them tomorrow at training, won't I?" You ask.
"Bubs" You can tell Leah is cautious to speak.
"I can train, can't I?" You look directly at the blonde as you await her answer.
Although you have a feeling that you're going to be sitting on the sidelines for a while.
"I have to train, Le! I can't put it off. I've gotta be ready to be selected for the matchday squad!" You insist as you stab your fork into a chicken nugget.
You watch as Leah frowns and hesitates to speak and that confirms your thoughts about it.
"We have a meeting tomorrow with Jonas, Kim, and some of the other staff at the club to discuss things--" Leah begins to explain, starting to eat her own dinner.
"I'm being sidelined?!" You interject in disbelief.
Leah shakes her head as she swallows her food before she speaks. "I didn't say that, Y/N" She states.
You can't help but scoff. "But you sort of did. I can't be sat on the bench-- I can't do it!" You try to insist. "I... I need some kind of purpose. I need a reason to get up in the morning!" You fight back the tears that threaten to spill.
You have to play. You have to be able to do that. You can't have that taken away from you.
"Bubs, let's just see what is said tomorrow. Okay?" Leah frowns and tries to take hold of your hand as you snatch it back.
"I have to be on the pitch, Leah. I can't be sidelined. I... I just can't do it" You state as you push your chair back and bolt up from the table.
"Where are you going?" Leah asks, confused.
"I need to get out. I'm going for a walk, or is that not allowed now?" You sneer as you move to walk over to the coat rack and grab one of your jackets.
"I'll come with you" Leah stands up from the table.
You huff and roll your eyes. "I don't need to be monitored. I want to be alone" You all but plead with her.
"I... I can't let you do that. You know I can't" Leah shakes her head in disagreement. "So we either go for a walk together, or we don't go at all" She states sternly.
"Guess we're both going then, wonderful" You mumble sarcastically and shove a pair of trainers on.
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"It's cold out here this evening" Leah mumbles as she tries to pull her jacket more around to try and get warm, you decide to take a walk alongside the canal not too far away from the flat as you always thought clearer when you were near water.
"You didn't have to come with me" You mutter as you keep your hands shoved in your pockets.
You'd never been too much of a fan of the cold, but you just needed an escape as you felt like the walls were caving in around you being inside the flat.
"You know that I did" Leah replies quietly, exhaling a sigh.
"Oh yeah, of course, that's cos' I'm on suicide watch, right?" You can't help but joke with the blonde.
Leah tenses up at the mention of the subject that's joked about so casually as the two of you walk alongside the canal.
The blonde can't help but try and reach for your bicep to try and pull you away from being too near to the edge of the water.
"You can relax a bit Le, I'm not gonna try and off myself again" You continue to crack jokes about death like you're talking about the weather. "Although jumping into the water seems like a great idea" You add.
The blonde clicks her tongue. "I wish you wouldn't say things like that sometimes" She states in disagreement as she hesitantly looks at the water, trying to pull you back from the edge.
"It's the easier coping method" You quietly admit as you shrug your shoulders as you linger dangerously close to the edge of the water. "How deep do you think it is?" You ask, looking in the direction of the blonde.
"Come away from the water" Leah tries to pull you away from the edge again.
"Why? Afraid I'll actually jump in" You fire back as you can't help but laugh slightly. "You know I can swim, right?" You ask her.
"I know you can swim, but..." Leah looks nervous as she eyes your every move.
"But you think I'd rather try and purposely drown instead?" You wonder, already knowing her answer.
Leah shakes her head and exhales a sigh. "Y/N" She states in a knowing tone of voice that you knew all too well.
"The pressure is too much sometimes, the media... They can be ruthless" You admit quietly, looking back out to the water in front of you.
"I know" Leah replies just as quiet, waiting for you to speak again.
You tug at the sleeves of your hoodie and bite your bottom lip. "It's all too much sometimes. Sometimes I think the world is against me" You tell her, honestly.
"Bubs..." Leah starts to speak.
"Why were you and Katie fighting when I was in the hospital?" You change the subject, refusing to let your vulnerability show.
Leah exhales another sigh. "It's complicated" She says.
"Bullshit" You can't help but scoff and roll your eyes.
"Language" The blonde scolds.
"Well, why aren't you?" You repeat the question, wanting to know the answer.
"Well, adults have disagreements sometimes" Leah states, looking out to the water.
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. "C'mon Le, I'm a not naive kid-- Why're you not getting along?" You feel like you're constantly repeating yourself right now.
Leah exhales a sigh and hesitates to speak. "She just thinks that my decision was wrong, to allow the doctors to detain you in the hospital" She explains.
"I know that. You guys were literally fighting about it right in front of me" You remind her with the usual teenage cocky attitude you have.
"She thinks you should've been at home instead, with all of us watching out for you" The blonde defender continues to explain. "But Y/N... I don't know how I can keep you safe when you're at home. You joke about death so casually, I'm so scared that I am going to have to leave you alone, that when I come home, I'll find you lying dead on the floor in a pool of your own blood. At... At least this way when you were in the hospital, I knew you were safe and you couldn't hurt yourself" She confesses the truth.
The truth that leaves an eerie silence.
"I knew you were safe and you couldn't hurt yourself" Her words were like a continuous loop in your head.
Her confession hits you suddenly, leaving you feeling numb.
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wlntrsldler · 3 months
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Hi, I loved “apple pie” so much!! Would you consider doing a part 2 with Jamie’s injury during the game and the reader taking care of him when they get home to Richmond? I feel like it would be so soft 🥹💗
sweet nothing | jamie tartt
based on the song sweet nothing by taylor swift
description: part two to apple pie, but can be read alone!
pairing: jamie tartt x actress!reader (she/her)
warnings: language-- it's ted lasso, what did ya expect?; tooth-rotting fluff! jamie being pookie asf. mention of sex but nothing crazy. mention of his dad.
wc: 1.7K+
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Nobody in the owner's box spoke. Jamie was lying on the pitch, arms crossed over his eyes in pain. You could hear Man City fans hollering insults at him in the distance, but all of their noise was drowned out by the thumping of your heart. You forgot how to breathe.
You felt Keeley squeeze your hand, bringing you back to the present. You watched the physios help him off the field. The game continued but you were no longer interested. Instead, you found yourself staring at the boy sitting on the sidelines as he talked to Ted.
"Come on, Jamie," you whispered, biting your thumb anxiously. "You got this, baby."
With a pat on the back, Jamie re-entered the game. You cheered along with Keeley and Rebecca, tears pooling your eyes. You were so proud of him.
The taunts from Man City fans got louder as he walked toward his teammates. Jamie, looked around, rolled his eyes, and stuck his tongue out as he banged on his chest where the AFC Richmond logo was stitched on his kit. You laughed, wiping your eyes, enjoying how confident and full of life your boyfriend seemed to be even after getting injured.
You watched as he masterfully dribbled the ball, dodging three Man City players, before he got in position to kick the ball. The loud whoosh of the football rang throughout the entire arena and before you knew it, all AFC Richmond fans were on their feet cheering for the native Mancunian.
Jamie looked up at the owner's box where he knew you'd be and blew a kiss in your direction. Although you knew he couldn't see you, you blew him a kiss right back. As he was exiting the pitch, he was met with thunderous applause from supporters of his old team.
"That's how good he is," you heard Higgins say from behind you. "Jamie Tartt is a legend."
Your smile widened as you nodded in agreement. The camera crew focused on Jamie's expression as he allowed himself to marvel at the crowd's praise. He no longer had the cocky smile on his face, but rather, his face was relaxed and full of gratitude. This was a homecoming that he deserved.
When the full time was called, the team celebrated on the pitch. Jamie stayed for a bit, but excused himself to come find you. You were waiting for him in front of the locker room entrance, unable to contain your excitement when you saw him.
Briefly forgetting his injury, you ran to him, engulfing him in a hug that made him lose his balance. You peppered kisses all over his face, "I am so proud of you, Jamie Tartt. God, I love you so much."
He tried to laugh to mask the hiss of pain he let out when he put too much pressure on his ankle. You pulled away quickly, suddenly feeling horrible for nearly attacking him. You stepped away from him, "I completely forgot. I'm so sorry, love."
"No," he whined, immediately reaching out for you again. You reluctantly obliged and approached him, much calmer this time around. Jamie sighed in content, leaving light kisses on your neck, "Much better. Don't go too far."
"Jamie, you're hurt," you tutted, threading your fingers through his hair. He hummed in approval, still refusing to let go of you. You placed a kiss on his cheek, forcing him to separate from you to capture your lips in a kiss. You pulled away, "Let's get you to the physios, yeah? Make sure you're all good to go?"
Jamie knew you were right. He did need to get a thorough check-up. He nodded, intertwining his fingers with yours, "Let's go?"
You squeezed his hand gently, letting him lead you away.
Thankfully, Jamie was okay for the most part. The physio told him that he needed to take it easy at least until the next match, but he should be able to participate in light training after two days. Roy grunted in disapproval after hearing the news, but you could tell that he was relieved that Jamie wasn't hurt any more than he was.
The bus ride back to Richmond was rowdy. The boys were absolutely wild over their win-- as they should be, but it also meant that Jamie refused to rest the entire time. You were glad, however, that he remained seated the entire time and didn't put too much pressure on his hurt ankle.
It was nice to be around the boys again. You didn't realize how much of a community, a family, you created in Richmond. Jamie played a big part in that. Before him, you had friends in the industry who were shooting projects in England, but never anybody who's grounded and secured here. You craved stability, at least as much stability as you could get being an actress. You never thought you'd find it here, in Jamie.
"Hi, love," Jamie whispered from beside you. He had a hand on your thigh, "Whatcha thinkin' bout?"
"Just how much I missed all this," you motioned toward the loud, ruckus of the team around the both of you. You turned your head to look at him, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose, "How much I missed you."
"Don't get all sappy on me now, love," Jamie teased, though he wrapped an arm around you to pull you closer, "I'm the one that's hurt here. I'm the only one allowed to be sappy."
You faked a groan, rolling your eyes, "I suppose you're gonna be a big baby for the next few days."
"Oh yeah," he answered too quickly. He chuckled, placing a kiss on the crown of your head, "Gonna get so sick of me. We're gonna lay in bed for two days straight. Doc said I had to take it easy, remember?"
"You know that also means no sex, right?"
He turned to you in horror. He shook his head in disapproval, "Well Doc doesn't know what he's talkin' about anyway. He obviously doesn't know that my proper fit girlfriend hasn't been home in so long and that rest wasn't an option for me when you're only back for a week."
"Knock it off," Roy grumbled from in front of you. "You guys are fucking disgusting."
"Don't worry, grandad. I'll save some lovin' for ya." Jamie made kissy noises as he spoke to Roy, making you laugh uncontrollably in your seat.
By the time you made it back to the facility, the boys were buzzing to celebrate the night out partying-- all of them but Jamie. You were waiting in the car park by his car, thinking that you'd drive it to his place while he celebrated with the team, but you were caught by surprise when he walked out with his bag, looking as cozy as ever.
Dani and Colin waved to him, both excited to spend the night getting wasted with the team. Jamie walked towards you, careful not to put too much pressure on his ankle, and handed you his keys.
"You don't mind driving tonight, do you love?" He asked. "Need to get my ankle sorted before the next game and I don't want to do too much."
"I don't mind at all. I figured I would be drivin'," you replied, unlocking the car. You and Jamie both got in, adjusting the seat a bit so you could drive properly. Before you pulled out of the facility's premises, you turned to Jamie, "Are you not going to celebrate with the boys?"
"Nah," Jamie said, so casually. He buckled his seatbelt, twisting his body to grin at you, "See them lads every fuckin' day. Love 'em, but I love ya more. You're only here for a week so I'm makin' the most out of it."
"Such a romantic," you teased, but his words made your heart flutter. Jamie didn't know the effect he had on you and honestly, even if you tried to explain it to him, he probably wouldn't believe you.
It was already hard for him to believe that you said yes to dating him. Sure, if you had asked him a year ago if he saw himself with the hottest up-and-coming actress, his prick self would've said, "Of course, I'm Jamie fucking Tartt." But now that he's finally allowed himself to be vulnerable and care about people, that facade he once had no longer seemed necessary. With that side of him slowly fading, he'd be lying if he said small parts of his confidence didn't.
That's why he's so fucking lucky that you decided to take a chance on him. You never did anything that made him doubt how much he meant to you. He spent so much of his life trying to figure out who actually loved him and who didn't-- massive thanks to his dad for that one-- that it's so nice to not have to worry about something like that.
You made him feel so fucking loved that sometimes the idea of it overwhelmed him, in a good way of course. All the times he wondered if he was worthy of love seemed so trivial now.
The both of you fell into your comfortable routine as if you hadn't been gone for weeks when you got to Jamie's place. It was like you never left. In between the mundanity of getting ready for bed, you gave each other kisses on the cheek, and hugs from behind, always somehow touching each other or so close to each other.
At the end of the night, you and Jamie were lying in bed, Jamie's head on your chest. You were absentmindedly running your fingers through his hair, letting out a soft chuckle when he sighed happily. A few times throughout the night, he would get a video from one of the boys, pissed drunk, doing something so stupid, that you both could only hope that the paparazzi weren't there to see.
You talked to each other about everything that's happened over the last few weeks-- what restaurants you guys need to try together when Jamie visits you in New York, what new training regimen Roy prescribed Jamie, what Colin and Isaac were bickering about this week. You ended up falling asleep before Jamie because jetlag was finally catching up to you.
Jamie, who became the big spoon after you fell asleep, laid awake, unable to stop himself from smiling. This, he finally allowed himself to admit it, was something he could see himself doing for the rest of his life. With you sleeping soundly next to him, clinging to him like you never want to let go, Jamie lets himself deserve this good, loving life with you.
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bun-lapin · 8 months
Note
Hello!
If requests are still open, I'd like to yeet over a request. Hear me out: the reder gives spelldrive club bois and the track club bois a kiss on the cheek after a successful game/track meet
Hello there! Thanks so much for this request~! I loved thinking about the viewpoint of a reader who really supports their athletic friends and shows it with a little kiss. Gotta give some love and credit to our boys in the athletic clubs lol I went for a mostly silly, lighthearted platonic mood for this one with some sprinkles of flirtation. Hope you enjoy~ <3
CW: gn!reader, cheek kiss, friendship, some flirtation, silliness, fluff
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The crowd around you erupts into a sudden roar of cheers and celebratory shouting. The match is finally over and the athletes begin making their way off of the sports field towards the sidelines. Walking quickly towards the field, you keep your sights on a familiar figure. As soon as you get close enough, you throw your arms around him and excitedly shout, "You won! Congratulations! I'm so proud of you!" With a grin on your face, you quickly press a kiss against his cheek.
🦁 Leona:
Leona initially looks very surprised when he feels your kiss against his cheek. With wide, green eyes, he just stares at you for a few seconds, one ear twitching and his tail swishing wildly behind him. However, he quickly regains his composure and then smiles smugly at you. He slightly turns his head to the side and silently taps a finger against the cheek that you didn't kiss. You laugh and place a kiss on the side of his face that he offers you. As your lips brush against his cheek, you hear Leona let out a happy, satisfied sigh from deep in his throat that sounds almost like purring.
🍩 Ruggie:
Ruggie’s face immediately breaks into a lighthearted, beaming grin when you kiss his cheek. As you take a step back, you see that his blue-gray eyes are sparkling with excited gratitude, as if you had just presented him with a giant platter of his favorite donuts. Letting out a hissing, giddy laugh through his teeth, he jokes, “Wow! What a great present to celebrate our win! I wonder how much better I’ll have to play in the next match to qualify for a kiss on the lips?” Ruggie then makes a series of extremely silly and exaggerated kissing faces at you, complete with pouting lips and fluttering eyelashes. You both burst out into wild laughter and the two of you lean against each other, laughing until your sides ache.
🍎 Epel:
When Epel feels your kiss on his cheek, he immediately takes a step back in surprise and starts stammering, in his hometown accent, a jumble of confused country phrases. You have no idea what he’s saying but you laugh in a good-natured way at the funny, contrasting look of his eyes wide with shock and his mouth curved up in a pleasantly surprised grin. When Epel sees you laughing, he seems to snap out of his initial surprise and he laughs along with you. Grabbing your hand, he grins mischievously, plants a small kiss on your cheek, and shouts, “Payback!”
🐺 Jack:
Jack is celebrating loudly when you walk up to him but, the minute you kiss his cheek, he quiets down and raises his eyebrows in surprise. Crossing his arms over his chest, he wears a somewhat nonchalant smile on his face and he politely thanks you for congratulating him so sweetly. You peek around his giant frame and see that his tail is wagging so quickly it’s kicking up a tiny cloud of dust behind him. Jack notices where you’re looking and laughs in a slightly embarrassed way. With a warm smile on his face, he then reaches out to you and pulls you into a big, comfortable hug.
♠️ Deuce:
The second your lips touch Deuce’s cheek, it’s like he’s been hit with a freezing spell. You take a step back and see that his eyes and mouth are wide open from surprise and his body is frozen in place. You can’t help but laugh because he looks like some kind of comedic statue. In between fits of laughter, you reach out and poke the spot on his cheek that you kissed to try and break him out of his trance. Deuce snaps back to reality and swats at your hand with a mixture of embarrassment and satisfaction on his face. In a laughing voice, he says, “Hey, quit it! Don’t make fun of me like that! You really surprised me, you know?” He grins at you and raises his hand to give you a high-five. Unfortunately, he completely misses your hand and falls forward, grabbing your arm on instinct as he falls to the ground. You both fall in a little heap on top of each other, laughing like crazy.
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ftmtftm · 5 months
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I know this is just sort of the nature of Tumblr and the internet in general, but I genuinely deeply, deeply resent the way reactionary, inflammatory behavior tends to get the most instant gratification type of attention from both those who agree and disagree with the subject matter in conversations about transandrophobia. It's blatantly obvious and it's childish / teenagerish in a way I am deeply uninterested in. Which sucks because it absolutely comes at the cost of the state of the transandrophobia tag being filled with types of rhetoric I find really distasteful.
It's part of why I've shifted focus into generally just posting more about gender and feminism with a focus on trans masculinity, rather than specifically posting about transandrophobia explicitly honestly.
I think a lot about an anon I got forever ago that essentially accused me of having a "holier than thou complex" or something along those lines and maybe there is truth to the fact that I like being mostly on my own over here in my own corner doing my own thing posting about feminism and gender - but I also genuinely just don't see any merit or meaningful function in being intentionally inflammatory or argumentative or poking bears with sticks for the sake of engagement. It's purposeless beyond the mini dopamine hit a ton of notes and support gets you and that's very much not the reason I made and continue to use this blog, you know?
It'll be interesting to watch though because I'm already starting to see a decline that is really actually echoing what happened with transmedicalist spaces in the 2010's.
A lot of transmed spaces, at least when I was initially being introduced to them, were actually full of a lot of people who were passionate about understanding more about medical transition - particularly the destigmatization surrounding trans masculine medical transition. There wasn't a lot of talk about dysohoria being necessary to transness or brain sex type stuff, so much as it was a lot of guys who wanted more research into different kinds of bottom surgeries, sharing information about top surgery options, challenging biased ideas about testosterone as a scheduled drug, etc. etc.
Then those spaces started melding with truscum spaces and the people interested in genuine medical advocacy began to jump ship because the reactionaries were becoming too much to manage.
I'm definitely starting to see something similar happen right now. And you know? I'll be deeply disappointed if something like that happens to the conversation on transandrophobia, but also? I'll kind of be unsurprised - especially given the fact that I have already unfollowed folks for bordering on things like transmed rhetoric themselves the last few months.
I won't stop posting in the ways I do in my own little corner because I believe in the things I say and the work I do on and offline, but it is fascinating and sad to watch this kind of thing happen again from the sidelines.
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pulisicsgirl · 8 months
Text
not going anywhere - christian pulisic
summary: after Christian (and several others) notice how Y/N hasn't been herself for the last few weeks, he finally decides to confront her about how she's feeling
pairing: Christian Pulisic x reader
word count: 2.3k
warnings/tags: established relationship, angst, discussions of mental health and illness, mentions of meds, supportive Christian, hastily proofread
requested: no
notes: Hey there!! This has been sitting in my draft for probably 6 months and I wanted to put something out, so I tried to finish it and make it at least decent for y'all! I promise I'm trying to work on your requests and I have several halfway written, but I've just been struggling in the writing department all summer. Thanks for being patient with me! If this fic is a steaming pile of garbage... pretend you didn't read it
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It hadn’t gone unnoticed by Christian that you hadn’t been yourself lately.
Your relationship was fairly new, having only been together for a few months, but as attentive as Christian was, he recognized the little things that had shifted in your personality.
He noticed how when you smiled at someone, it never quite reached your eyes—the little wrinkles that usually appeared in the corners were absent. He noticed how when you laughed, as soon as you thought no one was looking, the grin on your face quickly faded, replaced by the absent and distant look that adorned your face so often recently.
He noticed that you would zone out far more often than usual, eyes unfocused as you stared at a distant point. When he caught you in this state, Christian would tangle his fingers with yours or gently place his hand on your thigh, drumming his fingers in an attempt to pull you back from wherever it was that you would drift off to.
He was concerned, to say the very least, but each time he tried to bring it up to you, you dismissed his concern with a wave of your hand, chalking it up to being tired or overworked.
It didn’t take long for others to notice the change, too. As a prominent member of the media department at Chelsea, you had a friendly relationship with many of the players. You were often on the training pitch or on the sidelines at games, snapping photos of the boys as they played. Often, you would mess around with them, cracking jokes and laughing along with them, but not recently.
The joking had been cut to a bare minimum, and you rarely interacted with them at all. You spent just enough time on the training fields to get the content you needed before leaving to work in your office, unseen for the rest of the day. Several of the boys had asked Christian about you. They missed you. But Christian didn’t know what to tell them.
Finally, Christian decided enough was enough. He would have to “corner” you in some way and get you to talk to him. He had wanted to let you have your space and respect your desire to not talk about the matter, but he could see the whole situation physically weighing on you, and he knew that if he continued to let you bottle it up inside, you were going to explode. He resolved that by the end of the day, he’d talk to you.
That night, you had come over so that the two of you could have dinner together. Most of the dinner was spent in silence, you lost in your own thoughts, and Christian trying to work up the nerve to ask what he needed to. He wasn’t sure how to approach this kind of conversation with you—the two of you hadn’t dealt with a situation like this yet in your relationship.
Once your plates were cleared, you stood in his kitchen, washing the dishes, despite Christian’s protest that he could do it later that night. He sat on the counter, wanting to still be in close proximity with you. His heart broke a little when he noticed that you weren’t humming like you always did when you cleaned.
You rinsed off the last dish, placing it on the drying rack with the others, and you were rinsing the leftover suds from the sink when you felt Christian’s arms slide around your waist. He pressed his chest to your back and rested his chin on your shoulder as you turned the sink off, drying your hands on a towel.
“Can we talk?” He spoke softly and placed a kiss onto your shoulder.
You felt your heart sink in your chest. You knew this conversation was coming, but you were hoping to postpone it as long as you possibly could. “Yeah, what’s up?” you tried to speak casually, downplaying the nervous feeling that had settled in your stomach.
“C’mere,” he whispered. You dropped the towel on the counter next to the sink as Christian pulled you to the side where he had been sitting before and turned you around in his arms. He placed his hand on your hips, lifting you to sit on the countertop.
For a moment, the two of you remained in silence. Christian stood between your legs, unsure of what to say first. He rested his hands on your thighs, rubbing the bare skin below your shorts soothingly. Your heart pounded so quickly in your chest that you swore he could hear it as he stood in front of you. You desperately tried to calm yourself, still determined to play things off if you could manage it.
“So… um, you… you haven’t really been yourself lately,” he stumbled over his words and mentally cursed himself for starting so poorly. “I just… I’ve noticed a lot of little things that seem different, and you don’t really seem… happy.” He glanced up at your face, trying to gauge your response. He felt a little guilty for being so direct with the situation, but he didn’t want to keep dancing around the problem.
You drew in a breath, but Christian spoke again before you could. “And please don’t tell me that you’ve been tired, because you keep saying that, but I think it goes beyond that.” The nervousness you felt only intensified, and now you felt slightly nauseous, knowing there was no easy way out of this conversation.
You brought one of your hands up to your mouth, biting at the skin by your nails. Christian recognized the nervous habit of yours and he saw how you used it to try to put space between you and him as a form of defense. He reached up and took your hand in his. With a gentle but firm tug, he pulled your hand back into your lap and looked at your face with earnest concern.
You hesitated a moment longer, looking anywhere but at his face.  Sitting in front of him, your hands held in his, resting on your thighs, you had never felt so vulnerable and exposed. He stroked his thumb over your knuckles, squeezing your fingers in an attempt to pull you out of your thoughts and back to him.
The silence between the two of you was long and overwhelming as your head spun with wild thoughts. Did you continue trying to put a wall between you and tell him nothing was actually wrong? Or did you open up to him, tell him what was really happening, and run the risk of scaring him off?
“Come on, I can practically see you getting lost in there.” He poked your forehead gently with his free hand, laughing softly to try to relieve some of the tension in the air.
You glanced up at Christian’s face, and his gentle, reassuring smile brought tears to your eyes instantly. Looking back down at your lap so he couldn’t see you beginning to cry, you settled on trying your best to explain the thoughts that had been swimming around in your mind for the last couple of weeks.
“I don’t know, Christian, I just… kinda get this way sometimes.” You shrugged your shoulders. It didn’t make sense to most people, but it was the reality. “Nothing really happened. Everything is fine. You didn’t do anything. I just… I feel kinda hollow.”
Christian was relieved to hear that your pain hadn’t been cause by something he had done, having toyed with the idea as he wracked his brain for the last weeks, trying to think of what could have gone wrong to make you feel this way. But he still wasn’t sure he understood exactly what you were saying.
“I used to take meds for it, but I stopped taking them a little while after I graduated high school. They made me feel like I wasn’t really myself, and I didn’t want that anymore.” Your still fidgeted nervously as you opened up to him, but at the same time, the weight on your shoulders felt the tiniest bit lighter as you let Christian bear some of it with you.
Christian remained silent for a moment after you stopped talking, processing the things you had just told him He thought he was beginning to understand what you were saying, though your vague description left several questions swirling in his mind. He was happy, though, that you finally felt comfortable opening up to him, and he figured the finer details could wait until another day.
His silence, however, did nothing to calm your racing heart.
“So, I guess this is the part where you leave?” you whispered before you could even think about it, uneasy with how quiet the room had gotten. Your eyes were glued to your lap, and Christian’s hands froze at your words, where they had been smoothing over your knuckles, trying to soothe you.
“W-what?” he stuttered in surprise, heart sinking at the thought that you might be breaking up with him. When you finally looked up to his face, his eyes were wide, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He looked so hurt that you almost felt bad for saying it in the first place.
You took your hands from his as you began to pull away from him, picking at the edges of your fingernails, fixing your gaze downward again. “I’ve done this before, Christian,” you mumbled. “I get weird, you ask about it, and then once you find out that I can’t be fixed… you leave.” You sigh, having resigned yourself to the outcome that had played out in your life before. You sat there, feeling defeated, with your shoulders slumped.
A sniffle coming from him causes you to dart your eyes up to his face, and his eyes are misty as he fights back the tears that he can feel welling up in them.
“You really think that?” his voice quivers.
All you can muster is shrugging your shoulders. “That’s what everyone else did. I’m not worth the trouble.”
Your words shatter his heart into a million pieces. The pain of thinking you were ending your relationship vanished quickly, replaced with a new kind of pain at the realization of how you had been treated in your past.
As the first tears slipped down his cheeks, Christian pulled you into a tight hug, holing you as close to his body as he could muster as he buried his face in your neck. You felt the warm tears against your skin as you slowly returned the hug, caught off-guard by his actions.
Christian felt a bit silly. Here he was, crying on your shoulder after the things that you had just revealed to him, experiences that you’d had in your own life. He just couldn’t fathom that anyone could possibly treat you in such a way. You were the kindest, most gentle and caring woman he had ever known, and he truly believed that you deserved the world. Sure, it had been hard to see you in the state you had been in for the last few weeks, but he knew what he was feeling was nothing compared to what you were. And it never would have even occurred to him to think of you as burdensome—to think that he needed to “fix” you in some way.
Christian drew back from the embrace, quickly wiping his eyes while he still held onto your waist with the other. You were caught a bit off-guard by his behavior, never having experienced this reaction before, and you weren’t entirely sure what it meant.
Christian breathed a soft “I’m sorry” before he looked back up at you, cradling your jaw in one of his hands, and you couldn’t help but lean into his comforting touch.
“Y/N, you are absolutely worth everything. It’s not a burden to be with you. You know that right?”
Tears quickly sprung to your own eyes at his words, and you cast your eyes back down to your lap. In an honest answer, you shook your head ‘no’. This was how you had always thought of yourself, and you constantly felt like you needed to be compensating your partner in some way for the things they had to put up with for your sake.
Christian’s other hand came to your cheek, holding your face gently so that you would look him in the eye.
“You’re not a burden Y/N,” he spoke softly, his eyes flicking over your face. His expression held a sort of desperation—aching to show you that he truly believed what he was saying. “You’re not, I promise. And I’ll spend every day for the rest of my life telling you that until you believe it. I’m not going anywhere.”
Your heart fluttered at his words.
‘…every day for the rest of my life…’
He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you?
Marriage wasn’t something the two of you had really talked about yet, because your relationship was so new. But any time you thought about your future, you knew you wanted Christian to be in it. And knowing he felt the same way meant the world.
You felt Christian’s thumb brush across your cheek, wiping away the tear that had fallen. You could only stare at him, wondering to yourself how you had managed to find someone as perfect as him.
“I’ll always be here for you. Anything you need,” he smiled at you, feeling that he was finally getting through to you.
The only response you could muster was a soft, “okay.”
“Yeah?”
You nodded.
The relief Christian felt that he finally had some understanding of why you hadn’t been yourself over the last few weeks was nearly overwhelming. He pulled you toward him, pressing a firm kiss onto your forehead.
“I love you so much, Y/N. Never doubt that.”
tag list: @landoslover @thoseboysinblue @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @masonsrem @bracedes @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @notsoattractivearenti @chilwellspulisic
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thinkingotherwise · 6 days
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Hello🤸‍♀️, I hope you are well.Could I request Sakura, Kiryu and Suou (individual) madly in love with a reader who is super talented in dancing, gymnastics and is super strong?
The reader is preferably female, 1'56 tall, who dances ballet but her body is not thin but rather more vuluptuous or curvy. Her left eye is somewhat strange since her pupil has a not very defined star. Since she was little, she has had incredible strength by nature (her way of fighting is mostly with her legs on tiptoe), she uses very well-groomed nail designs with complicated but well-groomed designs. and she has a funny personality, kind even if her words don't say it, playful and with peculiar tastes for many things, but very loyal to those she trusts.I'm sorry if this request is too long or if you don't make requests with that many characters, it's okay to reject it, but if not I would love to see more of your writing.
Got a little sick, but I'm better now. Hope everyone is doing great.
I read the request and immediately my thoughts went to the reader being someone like Katelyn Ohashi. She is so passionate, joyful, and talented.
Haruka Sakura, Mitsuki Kiryu, Hayato Suou x fem! Dancer/Gymnast! reader
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You could say that Haruka knew you were strong since the beginning of your relationship. He knew that dancing and gymnastics were very demanding and helped your lower body become more powerful.
Haruka Sakura
The thing Haruka loved the most about you was you being so passionate about your hobbies and so merry whenever you let yourself go.
However, when he first saw your raw strength, you already dated but were still in this early stage. Somehow you found yourself in the gym together and he spent every minute nearby, keeping a watchful eye on your figure, and trying to show everyone else that you were his. And when you, after Haruka's persistence, did some kicking practice on the punching bag, he was shocked and awed. Noticing the power in your kicks and the strength in your legs made him blush. You were just perfect. At that moment he was falling even more in love with you if that was possible.
As time passed throughout your relationship, he asked you to help him with his gymnastic skills that he sometimes used during fights. But truthfully it was just a pretext to see you more often and spend even more time together, while also supporting your passions and letting you train yourself.
Observing you for so much time he noticed everything about you. The star in one of your eyes was something he started thinking of as fate, because your uniqueness of eyes matches his. And because of that, he loved staring at your eyes, even though he easily got flustered. He did it stealthily. His eyes full of love for you and all your passions.
Haruka like no one else understands your drive for dancing and gymnastics and loves it when you talk about it. He lets you talk his ear off because he feels like he can encourage you to continue moving further and pushing your limits, just like you support his passion for fighting and being the best fighter.
And what would be a better way to show his support than going to your practice from time to time and watching you from the sidelines as you have so much fun doing something you love?
Haruka entered the room when you were mid-practice and sat on the bench on the sidelines. His eyes moved to you and never left from the moment he came into the room.
You, at the same time, were so into your routine, that you didn't notice anyone joining your little session. Moving around the place with focus but also joy evident on your face.
Haruka was amazed, at how something so hard and dangerous to perform seemed so easy when you did it. All these complicated figures and poses.
"Woah.." He muttered to himself again and again through the routine.
As you finished, your eyes from focused turned soft and joyful and a distinct sound of clapping echoed in your ears.
"Oh, when did you get in Haru?" Your gaze followed your flustered boyfriend sitting quietly and watching.
Haruka was far from passing by, he actually came here right after his patrol knowing well enough you'd be here. He just needed his daily dose of you and your smiles, although he wouldn't confess to it even if someone asked him. Well, maybe if it would be you, maybe then.
While being in the same room as you and seeing you training it was certain that he got red in the face. Honestly, it's all because of your curves and how good you look in your sportswear.
"A few minutes ago, just passed by and thought you'd be here." He said casually but there was nothing casual or random in this.
After a few seconds, he hesitantly stood up and walked towards you. You tried to teach him some of the steps of your choreography but they seemed to cause him some issues. Still, he spent the rest of your practice trying his hardest and your heart filled with love when he showed so much appreciation to your interests.
"Oh, so you were watching me all this time?" Your eyebrows furrowed and you jutted your hip out making your curves even more visible and also his face redder.
"Didn't want to disturb you."
"Well, you can always join me." You replied to his mutter and he jumped in his seat.
Mitsuki Kiryu
Mitsuki loved the fact he could be part of your hobbies, even if it meant him helping you choose outfits, or giving you his own.
Not only clothes you wore were making him crazy for you, but it was also the colourful nails and how it seemed you didn't break them even when you trained so hard every day. He honestly loved it when he could go with you to the nail salon and help you pick out the patterns and colours on your nails, sometimes even having his nails done as well and most certainly matching yours in one way or another.
Having Mitsuki as your boyfriend you were used to him gushing over your clothes, nails, and makeup. He would be the one who appreciated your style the most.
He adored watching you wear his cardigans and sweaters seeing as they hug you in all the right places on your shapely body. Especially when all you had under them were your leotards and/or other tight clothes. Mitsuki would even go as far as always carrying backup clothing whenever visiting you hoping you'd wear it.
Your sweet boyfriend loved showing up with matching things and letting everyone around know you were his just as much as he was yours. He would even show up during your competitions or training with clothes matching your sportswear and cheering you on. He was so head over heels for you.
Mitsuki loved having accessories in his hair and because of your star-shaped pupil, he started buying himself some matching pins that he could place in his hair. As soon as he saw something star-shaped he thought of you and your pretty eyes, and would usually message you sending a photo. You also loved the thought and bought him even more accessories sharing them with him.
Mitsuki took you on a lot of dates and after one of them when you were walking back you found yourself walking through the park.
"Would you like something to drink?" Your boyfriend asked as he motioned towards the nearby alley and vending machine.
"Actually yes, can you get me my favorite?" You asked and he nodded.
He kissed your cheek and quickly ran up to the vending machine picking up your drinks. During that, you found some bench and as you were walking towards it a random guy, you didn't know came to you. He eyed you up and down before standing in front of you and smirking.
"Hi there doll."
"Ugh.. sorry but I'm not interested." You said awkwardly trying to turn away from him but he grabbed your wrist keeping you in your place.
"Oh come on surely you can find some time for me." He continued pestering you and you once again tried being nice.
"No thank you, I've got a boyfriend."
He smirked at that making a show of looking around and then leaning closer to you.
"Can't see him here."
You stepped back and frowned at him.
"Come on it will be fun, I bet I could be better than this dumb boyfriend of yours." He cut in before you could say anything gripping your hand tighter and pulling you towards him.
"Leave me alone." You said between gritted teeth trying to keep calm and not the irritation you felt get the best of you.
"You should be thankful someone like me even talk to a bitc-"
You felt your your anger bubbling inside and before he could finish you harshly jerked your hand away from his grip. Taking a quick step back you sent an annoyed, strong kick in his belly making him gasp and stumble back into the tree.
Hearing the annoyance in your voice Mitsuki stepped closer to the man and nudged him with his foot. The man groaned in response but when he saw the look on your boyfriend's face he quickly gathered himself and ran away.
Mitsuki seeing that someone was so close to you ran from the vending machine with your drinks in hand. He was angry, how could some dumb guy come so near you? But the moment he saw you kicking the idiot back and him falling into the tree a smile grew on his face.
"Did this brat disturb you?" His voice grew more annoyed as he handed you your drink.
"Yes, he was quite annoying."
Mitsuki sighed deeply and moved towards you embracing you tightly.
"Sorry it took so long and I didn't see him earlier." He moved his free hand over your back in a comforting manner trying to calm you down.
"'s alright." You mumbled in his chest letting his warm envelope you and drain your anger.
"But that was something else, I wasn't aware your kicks could be so powerful." His voice became more joyful and a chuckle left his lips.
"You really beat him up quite well."
Even though he knew you were strong, Mitsuki was really impressed when you kicked the man so hard that he flew into the tree. You were really something else and that's why he loved you.
Hayato Suou
Being able to show you how much you mean to him in front of others, and letting him shower you with words of admiration is what Hayato loved the most.
Sometimes the cookies would be star-shaped and when he would see them at the bakery he would send you a pic saying he misses you, or that he saw it and bought it just because it reminds him of you, and that in itself is an invitation to come and spend some time with him and that if you didn't want the whole thing you could even have a small bite. He tried to make you as comfortable and confident with your body as he could. Because he loved everything about you.
You frequented tea times shared with Hayato, that he insisted on having, because he would always prepare some special blends depending on how you felt. You also didn't mind as you loved it when he shared his tea with you talking about the new types and their benefits.
With that, he would always prepare some small snacks that he encouraged you to taste. If you were denying it, he would make sure you knew he loved all of your cute curves.
Hayato was very open about showing off the relationship the two of you have, calling you his star and it was both because of your eye but also because you're literally the star for him when it comes to dancing, ballet, and gymnastics.
The two of you sometimes trained together, as Hayato was doing martial arts. Both of you sometimes warmed up and stretched before he would start training while you did your routine. His eyes would frequently search you as he was impressed with the strength you possess in your legs and how flexible you could be.
And once when he saw you beating the shit out of your pointy shoes he teased saying he wouldn't want to anger you if that was how you treat your shoes.
So whenever you two are out he would see someone he knew he loved showing you off. Praising your skills and talking about how good you look when having fun during your routines. He wasn't afraid to say with a straight face how much you mean to him.
It also showed when he was cheering for you before, during, and after your competitions or shows. Hayato was your biggest fan and he did everything he could to show it.
For the first few times, he would bring you some flowers, a bouquet, a single rose. It was different each time. Your room quickly became full of his gifts and as much as you loved it, you worried he spent too much money on you so you told him about your concerns. He understood you and told you he'd try to keep it less expensive.
"What is that?" You questioned after yet another show you took part in.
Hayato stood in front of you with a little smirk holding what seemed like a bouquet of flowers but it was paper-made. The colourful papers were expertly folded and matched each other in every aspect.
"A little present for you, it was less expensive just like you wanted." He said clearly pleased with the reaction you showed.
Were you surprised? Yes. Awed? Yes. Did you like it? Yes, yes, yes.
You grabbed the bouquet from his hands and brought it closer to your face, observing each flower carefully.
"So I guess you still like it?" He asked and you nodded your head fervently a big smile blooming on your face.
"Of course I do, thank you."
You quickly hugged him and he embraced you, thankful you appreciated his gift.
You didn't need to know it but he spent a few days learning how to fold paper flowers making sure they would look perfect. And spending those hours was so worth it, if it meant he could see you smile so joyfully.
"Did it take you long to make it?" You asked suddenly aware that origami sometimes could be time-consuming and the flowers in your bouquet didn't look all that easy to make.
"Not really, only like 2 hours." He said it so nonchalantly you had to look at him.
"But it was clearly worth it, seeing as it made you this happy." His eyes met yours and he gave a quick peck on your forehead before smashing your body into a hug once again.
Tags: @misticbullet
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norris-lando · 7 months
Text
you made me feel as though i was enough
Lando Norris x reader
warnings: slight angst
author’s note: This is sooo short, I'm sorry :( I just didn't wanna make it feel like it was dragged on forcefully. Anyway, I hope you enjoy :)
word count: 674
summary: in which Lando had a bad day and reader is trying to comfort him
This was requested by @navia3000 (original request can be found here)
It had been a rough day. It was rough for Lando who was driving and it was rough for you to watch from the sidelines. The sprint hadn't gone to plan and the GP was no better. To be honest, the whole weekend was one big shitshow. For everyone.
The post race interviews were hard to watch. You knew the interviewer's were just doing their jobs but it pained you to see Lando up there, so broken by the questions. You wanted to run up there and pull Lando into your arms and to hold him and never let go.
You were fidgeting, your legs bouncing whenever you sat down. But when that felt too hard, you paced around the room as you waited for Lando. You were sure you were going to burn a hole on the ground with the way you were going. But you didn't care. All you cared about was seeing Lando and hoping there was a way to make him feel better.
After what felt like an eternity, the door to Lando's driver's room opened. Lando stood there, a look of defeat on his face. There droplets of what seemed to sweat dripping down his features. He held his gaze on you for a moment before he let it hang low, falling to the ground.
You hadn't realised it yet but you had come to a sudden halt and now stood still in the middle of the room. The air felt thick and suffocating. You didn't know what to do or what to say.
Lando sighed. He walked in and closed the door after him.
"Oh, baby," you said, rushing over to him. You pulled in for a hug, holding him tightly. Your hands rubbed his back and you could feel Lando push his head deep into the crook of your neck.
Lando tried to say something but his words fell short, muffeled by the your clothes and skin. You could feel his lips moving and you could picture on your mind the sound coming out.
"I know, I know," you whispered. You never let go of him, only tightening your grip with each passing second.
Lando felt like he was suffocating and gently shifted and nudged at you. To show that, even though he appreciated the gesture, he was hoping for you to ease your hold onto him.
You did just that, when you finally realised, what Lando was attempting. And as you pulled away from him, you quickly said 'sorry' to show him it wasn't your intention to smother the poor man.
"It's okay," Lando said in return.
The way his words fell out, made it seem like he could have been referring to your tight gripped hug as well as the day in general. But you knew that this day, this weekend, wasn't 'okay'. None of it was. But that's the way it was. Only thing you could do now was be there for Lando. To support him. To show him that no matter what, he was always your number one.
You felt so bad for Lando. You hated seeing him like this - like everything was falling apart. You sighed and offered a small smile to him.
"You know I love you, right? No matter what. I will always love you so much," you told him. You held Lando's hands in yours, your thumbs going in circles against his skin.
Lando hummed and smiled back at you, "I love you, too, babe."
Suddenly a light bulb went on in your head.
"How about," you started with an excited sound in your voice, "once all this is done, we go do whatever you want?"
"We can go get ice cream and just stay in bed all day long," you trailed off when you saw a bright smile appear on Lando's face.
He pulled you in for a hug, a laugh escaping his lips. Lando gave you a small peck on your cheek before he whispered in your ear, "you always make me feel as though I'm enough."
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Text
fever
The stadium was alive with the roar of the crowd, and the adrenaline was coursing through my veins as I sprinted down the field, chasing after the ball. It was a crucial game against Spain, and I was determined to give it my all. But something felt off. My movements seemed sluggish, and my head was pounding with each stride.
I shook off the discomfort, thinking it was just pre-game nerves, but it wasn't long before my vision started to blur, and my legs felt like lead. I couldn't afford to let my team down so I did what I do best and fought through it.
I kept pushing myself, desperately trying to ignore the mounting fatigue and the feeling of my body betraying me. I wasn't about to be the weak link on the field.
It was Sonnett who noticed first. Playing in college together, we practically knew the in and outs of each other. As I jogged past her, I saw the concern in her gaze but looked away guilty until a player on Spain’s team went down and I made my way to the sidelines for water.
"Y/N, are you okay?" Sonnett asked, her voice laced with worry.
I tried to muster a convincing smile. "Yeah, Sonnett, I'm fine. Just a bit tired."
But she wasn't buying it. She could see right through my facade. "You're shivering, Y/N. Something's not right."
I brushed off her concern, attempting to maintain my composure. "It's nothing, really. I just need to push through."
Sonnett didn't let it go. She knew I was too stubborn for my own good. "Y/N, you're not being weak by asking for help or taking a break. Your health is more important. Let's get you off the field."
“NO, SONNETT!” I snap, the fever coursing its way through my body. I see her taken aback and so am I but I try to not let it show because I know she definitely knows something is up as I rarely raise my voice. 
“Chill, Y/N.” She says before the ref signals we can resume the game and I make my way to the field. I can’t help but notice Emily talking to Tobin, Christen, and O’Hara while they look at me… Yup, I’m screwed. 
I try to ignore the concerned faces on the sidelines and keep playing. I defend well until Putellas body checks me and Carmona comes from the opposite direction causing my body to be jostled around until I hit the ground. I hear the commotion of my teammates yelling at the ref to card the players while Kristie and Naeher check on me, bringing me to my feet. All the motion caused my already fevered head to be boggled and the dizziness hits before I go sprinting out to our sideline. I barely make it to the trashcan by the benches before I empty the contents of my stomach. Hands immediately rub my back as another hands me a towel.
“You’re okay, Y/N. Get it all out.” I hear Christen say.
“C-oldd.” I whimper with my hands gripping the trashcan afraid if I let go, I’ll collapse. Sonnett takes off her big jacket and places it over my shoulder within seconds before wiping the hair from my face so she can make eye contact with me. 
She hisses as her fingertips graze my forehead, “You knew you had a fever didn’t you? And you still played? Y/N, you can’t be doing things like this.”
I nod, not really being able to focus on her words, “Can you help me back to the lockers before I puke again or collapse.” I whisper, all the adrenaline wearing off. 
Sonnett and Christen didn’t hesitate to lead me towards the locker room, their concern never wavering. I was still shivering, my body weakened by the fever and the strain of the game, and they wrapped their arms around me to provide support.
The fluorescent lights inside the locker room were harsh compared to the stadium's floodlights, and I winced as we entered. They gently guided me to a bench and began to help me change out of my soaked uniform and into a warm sweatsuit.
Christen and Sonnett exchanged worried glances as they tried to get through to me, but I could barely comprehend their words. Everything felt muffled and distant, and my thoughts were a jumbled mess.
Sonnett's voice was patient but laced with frustration. "Y/N, you need to let us know when you're not feeling well. Playing with a fever is dangerous, and it doesn't make you a better teammate."
Christen continued, her tone equally concerned. "We rely on you, but we also need you to rely on us when things like this happen. We can't help if you keep it to yourself."
I tried to nod in understanding, but my movements were sluggish and my vision was still hazy. They finally managed to get me dressed in the sweatsuit, and Sonnett helped me to my feet, her arm wrapped around my waist before guiding me to a cot in the corner of the room. 
“Take these and lay down,” Sonnett said sternly, leaving no room for discussion. I listen and take the pills in her hand that the trainers told her I needed. Another jacket is placed over me as Sonnett makes herself comfortable on the ground and rubs my back trying to warm me up. 
“Yo-u can-n go bac-k out. I’ll- I’ll be okay.”
“You’re more of an idiot than I thought if you think I am leaving your side.” 
With that we sat in silence for who knows how long until the team came back in, their chaotic selves calming down as they saw me. Mal, Rose, and Trinity came and joked around about how my puking made some of the Spanish players feel ill, which threw them off their game, “You really helped us win the game.” Rose laughed but Tobin cleared her throat.
“Do not encourage her. And if any of you feel sick and play sick without telling anyone, I will make sure you are benched for the next few games.”
The silence in the room is deafening before I crack up, the fever making me delusional and mock Tobin which only leaves her more angry. Christen is by her side ensuring her, “Tobin, she’s sick. It’s the fever. You can lecture her later.”
“I’m going to take her to the bus so you guys can change peacefully.” Sonnett says. 
“No.” I pretend pout, “I want to stay here. Tobin is just being a control freak.”
“Uh no, before you say something in your state that you can’t take back .” Sonnett says remembering how my fevers cause me to have no filter. 
“Like that time O’Hara got caught hooking up with-” A hand clamps over my mouth before I can get the rest of the words out. I bring my gaze to follow the hand up to its owner and see O’Hara glaring back at me.
I could feel the collective tension in the room spike as the words hung in the air. My teammates exchanged awkward glances, and O’Hara cleared her throat loudly, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment.
"Right, well, let's not go down that road," Christen said, attempting to steer the conversation in a more appropriate direction. "Y/N, you should get some rest."
“Yeah, she's right. Sonnett, take good care of her." Kelley forces a smile before looking at me and if looks can shut people up and kill them I would be dead. 
Sonnett nodded in agreement and helped me to my feet, her arm securely around me. "Don't worry, everyone. Y/N's going to be just fine. We'll make sure she gets some rest and recovers."
As we made our way out of the locker room, I mumbled my apologies to Sonnett for my earlier words. She chuckled softly and said, "Don't worry about it, Y/N. You just focus on feeling better."
Outside, the night air was cool and refreshing, a welcome relief from the fever that had plagued me during the game. Sonnett guided me toward the team bus, and as I climbed aboard. 
She sat me next to her and I nestled closer to her, the plush cushioned seat providing a soft landing. She draped her arm around my shoulder, her touch reassuring and gentle. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to me. My eyelids felt heavy, and I couldn't fight the exhaustion that washed over me.
"Hey, Y/N," Sonnett whispered, her voice a soft, comforting murmur.
I turned my head slightly to look at her, my vision still a bit blurry. "Yeah?"
A fond smile graced her lips, and she brushed a strand of hair from my face. "You know, even when you're sick and delirious, you manage to bring a smile to our faces. You're one of a kind, Y/N."
I mustered a weak smile, my eyes half-lidded. "I'm just a handful, aren't I?"
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