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manmuncher777 · 8 months

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How You Deserve | JOHN PRICE

words - 5k

warnings - smut, unprotected, p in v, fingering, oral fem!recieving, slight degradation, cheating?

a/n: huge thankyou so much to @sky-is-the-limit for allowing me to use her idea, it's helped kickstart my writing again on a fresh account. I do plan on writing more, definitely. I am just a very slow paced writer. But I put a lot of effort into this and hope it lived up to what you imagined. This is the idea she had.

MDNI!!!

Apartment 138 b

Your apartment. 139 b was John's.

He told you to call him John when you first met, and you couldn’t think of another name since. You had lived there for just under 5 months now and seeing your neighbour every now and then was a blessing.

God the man was attractive, you always loved an older man, and my god does he pull it off well. When you first met he offered to help you move the rest of your things, and who were you to decline such an offer, watching his muscles flex and he picked up boxes. He even told you to call if you had an issue - giving you his number for ‘emergencies’. The little graze of his hand against your made you wonder if you could use it for more than that.

And of course you did call, one day when your sink wouldn’t stop dripping. you knew just the man to call, and when he came over you made sure to take great care of him.

You may have spent the afternoon cleaning your whole apartment before getting dressed up, but not to the point where it would have been noticeable. Just enough that you hoped you might catch his attention.

“Thank you so much once again John” you said as you moved about your kitchen, past the man under your sink. Your eyes not being able to resist travelling over that part of his exposed torso as he was under you sink. His shirt riding up with every movement of his arms, just enough to tease you. You bit your lip at the sight.

“sweetheart, you don’t have to thank me so much, it’s fine honestly. I'm happy to help, gets me out of the house” he joked, tinkering about with all sorts of tools, you leaned over the counter, watching as his forearms flexed with each twist of the wrench.

Fuck... those pet names he gave you always left you fangirling. He made you blush like a little school girl.

“wow, and here’s me thinking you had a wild night life”

he chuckles as you can’t help but smile at the sound, god even his laugh was sexy, and you wish you could see the smile on his face.

“Not me, the wildest I get is staying up past 10 on a weekday.”

“I'm shocked, I thought you would be a man of the night, getting up to all kinds of mischief, bringing women home and going down to the pub.” You fake shock, secretly you were just doing this to find out more about him. Find out if he had a girlfriend that was lucky enough to have him.

“Nope” he laughed once more “no wild women of the night for me”

‘awh dammit, that’s my chance blown then”

“well I do believe in second chances love." he says after a moments silence. He gets up from under the sink, standing with you counter top in between you both. His aftershave wafting towards you with his movements, drawing you in.

"lucky me then..." You say just above a whisper as you stare up at the man in front of you. God.

What you wouldn't do to jump over the counter and drag him to bed with you, wrapping your arms over his broad shoulders and dragging your hands over his muscular back. You felt jealous of your sink pipes for a second, realising that they got to feel his hands and you didn't.

But sadly he bid you a good night, letting you know he was just a call away if you needed help with anything. You watched after him as he walked out of your door and into his own.

You planned on breaking lots of stuff around the house to get him back round.

You saw him all the time, you would sometimes go out and plan to arrive the same time that he did, you soon figured out he was some kind of military man, and watching him walk by you in his uniform was a sight to behold, you would 'accidentally' drop your keys in order to prolong the time you could see him. You would exchange pleasantries and smiles whenever you saw each other, but you always noticed his stare lingering on you, and you never minded. To be fair, you practically undressed the man with your eyes whenever he returned home in his uniform. The sound of his boots against the stairs up your complex would leave you skin tingling.

In the mornings when he was due to leave for work you would be outside if your house in skimpy nightwear, getting your mail and wishing him a good day at work.

He was convinced that he actually had a better day at work on those mornings that he saw you. God he wouldn't even let you out of the apartment looking like that, he would keep you wrapped up in his arms in bed, risking being late to work for a few more minutes. He had to practically force himself to keep walking past and not stand and stare. But you were so sweet, practically inviting him in.

You were also so pleasant to him, he remembers having to correct you every time you called him 'Mr Price' and act like it didnt turn him on. You always dressed so nicely whenever he was round, wearing tops with necklines that complimented your breasts, or tight fitting skirts. And the smell of your perfume whenever he some over is almost intoxicating, its as if you sprayed some right before he came through the door (you did).

He was tempted to break something each time he was round so he had another reason to come back, he liked having you fawn over him. Asking him about his job, making him tea, giving him cookies to take back with him. And the way you would look up at him and rub his arm as he told you to call him if there was any thing you needed. And as he looked down at you, his mind couldnt help but wander.

Holding your stare he wondered if you would keep the same eye contact with him whilst you were sucking his cock, or he imagined if those pretty eyes would screw shut if he was eating you pussy. He had to shake himself out of it, walking away with lusty eyes and pants that felt significantly tighter than before.

Now you did have a boyfriend. kind of. a weird relationship with a guy you met a few months ago, he was a friend of a friend. You didn’t mind him, he filled the void and while you felt bad that it wasn’t a true relationship, you knew he felt a similar way. You could see his eyes wander and he’s always been rather secretive. A few times you have suspected cheating, but honestly couldn’t bother yourself with the drama. You didnt love him, and he didnt love you. simple. He served a purpose, or he did. He's started to not do so well in serving that purpose recently.

So there you lay, wishing you had spent the evening calling John over to fix the shower, instead you had your boyfriend rather aggressively trying to rub your clit, and failing rather miserably.

He had never been great at sex, but as of recently you kept having to question why you would invite him round, he never got better.

"you like that? yeah? you like my huge cock. It's big right?" okay. overstatement.

He thrust in and out of you hard and fast, clearly focused on chasing his own pleasure, his average - not huge - cock was not doing much for you. "so big inside you huh?" he questioned again, his rubbing not slowing down, neither his thrusts. You let out a lacklustre moan, hoping the quiz about the size of his penis would stop. You tried to be in the moment, but it wasn't really working. He had you in missionary, he wasn't even looking at you and to be honest, you were almost bored. He wasn't here for you, he was here for himself.

It left you questioning why you even let him come over "a bit to the left" you tried to ask him, guiding his hand with your own, but he wasn't really interested. Hardly paying attention. a few seconds later his thumb moving back to where it was before. no where near you clit.

"oh fuck- gonna cum" he splutters out, pushing all his weight onto you

God why didnt you call John. Of course he was on your mind right now.

Suddenly you felt embarrassed, he could probably hear this absolute shit show. You had days where you could hear his tv through your shared wall, and you realised he could probably hear this.

That embarrassment was soon replaced with another feeling when you got a little idea in your head.

"oh FUCK" you let out a nearly pornographic moan that even had your boyfriend snapping his head to look at you. You were fully aware that your bedroom wall was the shared wall between you and John.

"that feel good, feel it deep inside you?" oh god you were encouraging him. You just hoped John could hear this, because otherwise you would be boosting your boyfriends ego for no reason.

"soo good, fuck yes. right there. oh my god" you kept on, moaning loader and louder, practically squealing and screaming. "Sooo big!" God you actually had to try not to laugh at yourself.

This clearly excited your boyfriend as his thrusts sped up even more, a few seconds later and he was cumming with a load noise. You of course pretended you had cum too, putting on your best performance yet.

"oh fuck, yes yes yes gonna cum, OH, oh fuck" you squealed. Having to slap your hand over you mouth to stop a laugh following. John couldnt have not heard that. In fact you think the whole apartment building heard it.

Your boyfriend practically crushing you under you weight now, feeling rather proud of himself. He then leaves nothing but a few minutes later, of course. Not bothering to check on you. God you really needed to break up with him.

After cleaning yourself up and getting into some comfy clothes you decided you needed some fresh air, to try and get the captain out of your mind. You swear the say he told that he was a captain you almost exploded, got to love an authority figure as well. He just kept getting better and better.

As you lean on the railing just outside your front door, you heard movement from you neighbour, and as if it was a sign from the universe to tell you that he would forever be stuck in your mind, John comes out. Rather hurriedly zipping up his coat and locking his door.

"in a rush?" you ask as you watch him, a small smile on your face as you watch him freeze at your voice. As he turns to you, you can see his pink tinted face, as you hope its because of your little act earlier.

"uh, yeah, just needed some things" he says, clearing his throat as he glances at you, not looking at you for more than a few seconds before looking away.

"hmm, have fun" you nod at him, and he rushes off. You almost giggle to yourself as you made him squirm. Your hoping that your little plan worked.

And you think it did, Johns stares at you in the hallways became more intense, and when you did get him round to fix the shower, its as if he didnt want to leave, always finding new ways to continue a conversation or different things he needed to fix. You could basically feel the tension when you two got close. You wanted him, badly.

Just to make him squirm even more, you wanted to make him snap. You needed him to react, to do something, so you tried you little boyfriend trick once more. Calling over you disappointing boyfriend, who clearly enjoyed himself more than you, and then faking it louder than before. Something truly turned you on about the fact he could hear. And minutes after it finished you boyfriend left again.

You were prancing about your apartment, rather pleased with yourself once more. I mean, maybe not pleased as you just had incredibly shit sex, but it was worth it you hoped. After a quick shower to wash the evening disappointment off of you, you chucked on some panties and an oversized shit, preparing to wrap yourself up and watch a movie of some kind. Your wet hair tickling your back as you reached to grab some fluffy socks. Then without warning your whole apartment goes dark, you body jumps slightly as you search for your drawers, finding the flashlight you keep. Great just what you needed after trying to make a bad night good.

You rush about you apartment lighting some candles in each room, but you didnt have many.

This is an emergency, you thought to yourself.

Seeing as you didnt have your phone on you, it made sense to go and knock on his door, it was the evening, but not late enough for him to be asleep. You rush to your own door, opening only to find the man you were just about to go and get. huh, maybe you summoned him or something.

"John, I was just about to come get you, is your power out as well, what did you need?" you ask, curious as to why this huge man was standing outside your door, basically blocking and of the night sky from being seen behind him.

"I'm here to finish what that stupid little boy you fuck around with cant" He says, and you can feel your insides flip at his deep voice.

"Mr price-" You start, shocked to see the burly man practically oozing with lust, his heavy breathing and unbreaking stare made you feel timid as your legs turn to jelly, taking a few steps back.

"John." he corrects, stepping forward into you dimly lit apartment "Every fucking time I see his car pull up, I have to stop myself from beating the living shit out of him. How could a man not spoil something as precious as you" He says, his huge hands now gripping at your waist, you go to speak but he cuts you off. "and don't even try and lie, I know your faking it. I know you haven't cum a single time you've been with him, but still you want to tease me, you know exactly what you've been doing to me you fucking minx"

You don't even know what to say, you've been caught red handed. You lean into his grasp on your waist, his hands feeling even better than you could have imagined.

"not so noisy now love are you?" he coos at you, he can see you resolve slowly failing as you become putty in his hands "how about this? I give us what we both want and treat you like you deserve." A small smirk resides on his face as he watches your eyes light up.

He was cocky, but you loved it.

"yes John please, I'm sorry." You practically whine at the man as he quickly shuts your door behind him, the loss of his hands feels like a sin, but soon he grabbing you by the hand and taking you to your bedroom, you chuckle internally at the fact he knows his way around you apartment so easily.

"oh no darling, I'm sorry. I should've seen what a desperate slut you were sooner." He's whispering in your ear at this point, telling you filthy things, getting you as desperate for him as he's been for you. Gently placing you down on the bed before positioning himself between you legs, kissing at your thighs "Poor thing, you've been begging for it for months now, how cruel am I for not giving it to you"

Honestly you don't know how to react. Your brain has gone to mush while this gorgeous man is muttering filth to you and he's about to eat you out, but his stare is full of innocence. Those gorgeous eyes not breaking eye contact with you, even as he kisses you over your panties. You try your best not to cry out at the sight, but that is just a promise of what is to come

"let me show you what you've been missing out on, please?" there's that fake innocence again, it may seem like he's asking you to be sure, but he already knows your answer. He just wants to hear you say it.

"Please John, I want it so bad, want you." you beg him. I t felt good to finally tell him, all of that tension finally being released. And all you saw was the cocky smirk on his face again before he was removing your panties.

"shit sweetheart, Your practically soaked and I haven't even touched you yet. Did he ever do this for you?" John asked, running a finger through you soaked folds, to be honest you didnt even know you could get this wet before the sex even started. You shook your head, of course he didn't, he never thought to be that generous.

"dickhead" you could hear price mutter to himself as he continued to tease your dripping hole with his fingers. "what a waste" Without warning he then plunges two fingers deep inside of your, letting out a low groan at how wet you are.

You couldnt help but break the shared eye contact with him as your hands gripped as you bedsheets and your eyes screwed shut. Finally you were getting what you had been deprived of for so long. His fingers starting pumping in and out of you slowly, building a consistent pace. This time, instead of forced the moans you were so used to the moan let out was completely involuntary and you hands fisted as your sheets. John cant help but let out a small chuckle at the noises you make when he finally gets his hand on you.

"shh, that's it sweetheart, just relax f'me" he rumbled as his other hand finds it way to stroking you thigh, trying to calm your tense state. Your eyes snapped open, trying to get a glimpse of John. Each thrust of his fingers sending you mind further and further into mush. Your hips chasing his ever move, bucking with every brush against your g-spot.

He looked heavenly, his face gently lighted by the candles in the room, his hair slightly out of place while his eyes focus themselves on you completely. His hands flexing with every movement he makes.

Never taking his eyes off you, he leans down, finally tasting you. His tongue licking gently stripes, collecting your wetness.

He moans at the taste, something oh so satisfying about finally getting his mouth on you. Like his dreams come true.

His thick fingers worked magic inside you as their movements never faltered. His tongue increasing in its assault of your clit, running over the bundle of nerves over and over leaving you twitching and writhing beneath him. You could already feel you orgasm approaching yet he had hardly gotten started yet. "fuck, so good" you whimpered out, and you saw the pleased look he had on his face. Your body twisted and writhed on your bed, not used to the intense pleasure you were feeling as this man carefully and skilfully worked on your pussy.

"I know, I know. Being so good for me." he whispered, and even that drew another moan out of you. It was almost overwhelming, you hadn't had someone care for your pleasure solely before, and it almost seemed as if John was getting off on it by the quite groans he was letting out himself. Waves of pleasure flowing over you, and you wouldn.t mind being drowned in this feeling as you slip further into the lust.

Your hands released their iron grip that they held on the sheets and found their way to his hair, tugging at the dark roots. This seemed only to encourage the man lapping at your cunt. He was devoted for sure. The feeling of your hands gripping his hair, letting him know that he was doing his job right.

He could sense you were already nearing your climax, he could feel you tightening around his fingers, practically sucking him back in every time he threatened to leave. His tongue sucking your clit, focusing its movements, and that mixed with an added finger and some verbal encouragement, your orgasm grew ever closer. Every breathy moan as whimper was a signal to john that he was doing a job well done, he watched your face eagerly, watching to see what had an affect on you, trying to see what you liked the most. He wanted it just as much as you did. A desperate plea for release clear within you both

"come on darling, give it to me. Good girl." he spoke lowly, watching as you tried to force you eyes open, yet failing as your orgasm took over. You stomach tightening as his fingers carefully rode you through. You could be certain you weren't faking any of those moans as you basically sung his name like a prayer. "John, fuck, fuck-oh my god". Your legs tightened around his hand as you felt like every nerve in your body was on fire. You had finally received the pleasure you had been wishing for and it left your eyes burning with tears, tears of pleasure of course.

"There you go sweetheart, you did so well f'me" He whispers as he kisses up your body, his hands tracing over your skin as if he were trying to memorise every inch of it. He almost seemed angry that your shirt served as another layer between you both as he ridded you of both his and yours, throwing them somewhere in your room. You were too far gone to notice. You chest still heaving up and down as you came down from you climax. "Thank you" was the only thing you could mutter to him and he kissed up your chest and neck, before finally kissing you on the lips. You both moaning at the sensation, at something that had been long awaited. You had found their way to the back of his neck as he kissed you hard, his lips almost punishing yours as his tongue entered your mouth. You allowed yourself to be claimed by him, having no desire for any kind of power, you were his for him to do with as he pleased.

"can you take a bit more for me sweetheart? Got to have my cock inside you” he groans lowly in your ear, the noise practically ungodly. You whine, you cant tell if its at the loss of the contact of his lips or his filthy mouth. Or maybe its the huge hand now making its way to your breasts, playing with your nipples ever so gently, making it harder for you to form words.

"oh don't tell me I've lost you already love? First time being fucked properly and your already gone." He coos at you, smirking to himself. He is rather proud of the effect he's having on you, it had gone far better than he expected. Although your previous boyfriend didnt really leave much he had to live up to.

"please John, fuck me. I need it so bad, need your cock." Your whole body was practically screaming out for more. Your mind only being able to focus on one thing as your eyes trace over the man in front of you. The buzz of your previous orgasm still on your skin leaving you craving another. You couldnt help but be selfish as this man was offering himself to you so generously.

"oh you need it darling? well in that case..." he trails off, pulling your legs open, wide enough for him to fit in between as he lines himself up at your entrance, slowly teasing you, dragging his red tip through your folds. He had enough composure to tease himself also by doing this, being almost painfully hard. You couldnt help but watch intently, almost being mesmerised by the lewd act.

He couldn't take it anymore. H e needed to be inside you, he craved it. All those times he had imagined you bent over your kitchen counter, or him dragging you back to his room to have his way with you finally coming true.

Slowly, he pressed himself inside of you, inch by inch. He wanted you to feel him, all of him. And he certainly was big. A joint moan released by the both as you as he sinks himself inside of you fully, and he stays unmoving for a moment, basking in the closeness you now both shared.

You were absolutely fucked. You couldnt keep it together. You were so full, finally so satisfied that you couldnt even think straight, all your mind was focusing on was how you stretched so well around him. It was taking everything for you not to start moving your hips or crying out for him, trying to keep your restraint as you felt practically euphoric. You felt like you had been lit on fire, your skin feeling alive with every breath he took, the slight movement inside of you.

Finally after what seemed like centuries John moves. His forehead dropping down to rest on yours as he tries to ease a slow pace, practically torturing himself.

"Holy fuck- so perfect. You feel so fucking perfect f'me sweetheart" he groans out from above you, his whole body encasing yours as his hips speed up pace.

Your hands find his back, clawing at the skin as you lay with you mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure. Your eyes fluttering shut as you try to focus on how good you are feeling right now. That is until a firm hand grasps you jaw, not enough to hurt but enough to make your eyes open.

"You keep your eyes on me, don't you dare look away. Want you to watch me as I ruin you." he whispers to you. He wouldn't be surprised if you didnt understand what he said, you were a whimpering mess. He had just asked one of the hardest things for you to do. You had to watch this man fuck the shit out of you, it was almost too much to handle.

His deep groans echoing in your room, partnered with your moans.

What you don't realise is seeing you in this way, so vulnerable is his favourite part. The sparkle in you glossed over eyes as you cant help but be trained on him, the smudged mascara framing them perfectly. You glistening with either your spit or his, either way it turns him on. You spread out so innocently before him, for him to be the one to make you feel so good, and not be able to fake it even if you tried.

his hips were punishing, every thrust now pulling a moan out of you, music to his ears he thought as he smirked down at you. how cute he thought, watching you struggle not to close your eyes an scrunch them shut at the pleasure

"Too much for you sweetheart?" he questioned mockingly, receiving only a cry in response. You clench around him, never wanting him to leave your walls. He definitely didnt want to leave them either.

His hands coming down to brace your hips, stilling you wriggling as he pounds into you, harder and faster, he wants you to be able to feel him afterwards. He doesn't want there to ever be someone that can make you feel as good as him. You clench again, and again and John ca tell your close.

"Gonna come for me again love? Come on, on my cock, there's a good girl" Jesus this man knew exactly what to say to have you screaming for him. One of his hands releasing the bruising grip it kept on you hips to rub at your puffy clit.

With your moans and the way you fit him so perfectly, He couldn't see himself lasting much longer either, his main mission is to have you cumming before him.

"come on darlin, need it. Come all over my cock" Whispering in your ear with that gorgeous voice of his as his thumb fingers rub tight circles on your clit and his huge cock is practically splitting you open has you tumbling over the edge.

"John, oh my fucking god." Every muscle in your body tensed as he made you cum once again. God it was so good, like a coil that had finally been released. At last you had finally been satisfied. Your legs wrapping around his back, trapping him in as his hips still hammered into you, leaving you shaking from sensitivity. Like a madman possessed he chased his own orgasm, watching where you both connected intently as you soaked him completely with your release.

"Fuck sweetheart, gonna ruin this perfect little pussy" He moans, his hips now faltering in their pace, stuttering as his orgasm comes close. Your overstimulated body now quivering as you do you best to clench round the man, wanting to bring him the same pleasure that he just gave you.

"please John, i want it so bad" you whisper to him, and that sends him over the edge, spilling himself inside of you, thrusting his cu deep inside of you, continuing until he couldn't anymore. His hips stilling as he finishes, before gently pulling out of you. His eyes unmoving as he watches himself seeping out of you used hole. He wanted this moment imprinted on his brain

You lay there on the bed, completely fucked out and unmoving as he goes to grab a washcloth. It saddens him slightly to clear away this mark he had left in you. But he does it either way, gently cleaning you both off.

He soon settles next to you, a content sigh leaving his mouth. "So, who was better me or your ex?" he asks, a stupid question with an obvious answer. Laughing as you slap him playfully on the arm

"Oh my ex for sure"

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helen-with-an-a · 1 month

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I need to be perfect

Hi. So I kinda don't like this, but I kinda do at the same time, and I wasn't quite sure how to end it. It was also a really good request so I might use the prompt again in another way. Anyways, I hope you enjoy.

Barca Femeni x Reader ; Alexia Putellas x Reader (Platonic)

Description: R needs to be perfect and doesn't know how to stop.

Word Count: 2.4k

“When I say ‘jump’, you say ‘how high, coach?’ Got it?” The overweight, middle-aged man with an awful comb-over had shouted to you when you were just 9 years old. His methods were basically abuse, but he produced superstars. And that is what you were going to be. A superstar. It didn’t help that you already had perfectionist tendencies, and your parents were pushy – always expecting brilliance. No, not even brilliance. The best, you had to be the best. Perfect. Flawless. Faultless. Textbook. There was no other choice.

It was no surprise that Barca had come knocking when you were barely 16. You had mixed emotions: elation that Barcelona wanted you, happiness that you could leave the cruel atmosphere you lived in, fear that you weren’t as good as they may have thought, and nervousness that you needed the horrendous conditions to thrive.

Again. More. That wasn’t good enough. You’re not trying. You need to be better. Again. Again. Again.

You had seen the media asking how Barcelona could have signed a 16-year-old rising young talent from a lower league club. The world expected you to be great, Barca expected you to be great, and your parents expected you to be great.

But you didn’t feel great. Not at first. You had turned up to pre-season and noticed how far behind you were from your teammates. You hadn’t considered that it was because they were almost double your age and had been at the club or other high-level ones for years. You were struggling slightly to get the drills – Catalan was the preferred language, and you were still barely competent in Spanish. When the season started, you weren’t used as a sub very much, making your debut in November about 85 minutes into the match. You didn’t get your first start of the season until February. You had gone from being the best in the team at your old club to being a mere blip on the team sheet.

You are useless. You can’t even make it as a sub? You are a waste of time and money. All the effort we spent on you.

Your parents weren’t helping the situation. You already had the voice in your head telling you you weren’t good enough, and the constant barrage of texts, voicemails, and phone calls after another match where you weren’t used was starting to get to you.

So, you started to push yourself. After a season of being on the sidelines too much, you knew you needed to start working harder. You didn’t realise that Jonatan had been hoping to use this first year to let you get accustomed to Spain, the style of play and build your fitness. At first, it was nothing major. You stayed late a few days a week to work on drills, set pieces and technical skills. But then it was staying late every day you had training. And then coming in early. And then you began to run to training, leaving your bags in the locker room overnight for you to go and get changed. And then you began to run back from training, too. And then you added extra at-home workouts (nothing too crazy in the beginning; mainly yoga that turned into Pilates, which turned into an additional 2 hours of bodyweight exercises). For some strange reason, you had been allowed to live by yourself. You think that it was because so many of the girls lived nearby. Ingrid and Mapi lived in the same building as you. Lucy lived on the same road as you, as did Keira, Ona and Aitana. Alexia lived less than a ten-minute walk away, and you were within easy driving distance of everyone else. But because you lived alone, no one noticed how much you were putting your body through, even on your days off and mid-season breaks.

But the hard work was paying off. You started the next season well; pre-season had gone fantastically, and your name appeared on the Starting XI for the first match of the season. It stayed there throughout the year. You had also broken into a constant starter for your national team.

Again. Again. Again. Be better. Do better. Worthless. Poor. Again. Again

You couldn’t see a problem with it. You were fast, strong, technical, good, and great. You were going on two years at Barca, thriving, and playing your best football. You were barely 18, yet you had already been nominated for the Ballon d’Or. Everything was brilliant football-wise. You had to keep going. You couldn’t stop.

Do better. Awful. Again. Be better. Shocking. Rubbish. Useless. Horrible. Again

It was your day off after an intense few weeks when the truth came crashing to the ground. The Champions League had started up again, and a series of away games took place in a short space of time. It was hard with long days away from the comfort of your own home, and your daily routine was not helping the situation. Everyone could tell you weren’t ok – but they assumed it was from the travel. Lucy had picked up a cold or something, Keira was tired, Aitana and Pina were a little achy, and Alexia and Frido were more vigilant over the needs of their bodies. Everyone was exhausted. But you had to keep going. You couldn’t stop.

In your constant pressure to improve, you failed to notice Alexia’s troubled stares, Marta’s questioning looks, Patri’s concerned glances, and Irene’s worried gazes. They knew how hard you pushed yourself … almost. They knew you stayed every day after training, and they were a little concerned. But they didn’t know the extent of it. Not in the slightest.

It was El Clasico. Real Madrid vs Barcelona. A historic rivalry. You wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep until May, but that wasn’t an option. Everything was fine. You were on the score sheet, winning and playing great football. And then Athenea slid in for a tackle, catching you on your ankle in precisely the wrong spot. You tried (successfully) not to cry, but you couldn’t help the pained gasp that escaped your mouth. Alexia had been by your side instantly, ushering the medics over and holding you in place with her Captain’s stare.

“It’s your ankle, sí?” Alexia knew it was a matter of time before an injury came for you. If only she had stepped in sooner and helped you from overworking yourself. She helped you to your feet and walked you to the dugout.

“What? No! Ale, I’m fine. See,” You stood on your sore foot to prove your point. It hurt like nothing else you’d experienced, but it was fine; you just needed to walk it off.

“No, you sit the rest of this game out, get re-assessed back home and then we see if you can play.” She said with a note of finality as you huffed, turning around and walking off before you could comment.

Terrible. Awful. Be better. Dreadful. Terrible. Hopeless. Incompetent.

You knew it was silly. Your ankle was not ok, but you needed to train. It had been 2 days since El Clasico, and you were forced not to train yesterday, but it had been a travel day, so there wasn’t much you could do. It would be fine; you had trained on injuries before. You had waited until you knew the team would be out on the pitch as you snuck into the gym. Your ankle was heavily taped, but that was fine. You could put some pressure on it – that was all you needed.

You were determined to get at least a little run in. Just a gentle jog, really, barely above walking. Just a quick 5km. Nothing too crazy. You couldn’t afford to stop training, not after everything you have worked for. With your face in a determined expression and the idiocy of a terrified teenager, you got to work. You started on the bike. The movement was a little painful, but it raised your heart rate and got blood flowing. As you moved across the equipment, the door to the gym flew open.

“Qué crees que estás haciendo?” Alexia roared, making you jump out of your skin. Your first thought was that you hadn’t spent enough time on the bike, that she was angry at you for not working hard enough. For stopping. For taking a breather. “You are injured! Why the fuck are you not resting?” Alexia stormed over to you – she seemed angry. Her eyebrows were furrowed, her eyes were dark and stormy, and her mouth was a hard line. She was angry at you. Why was she telling you to rest? Rest? You couldn’t rest. You had to be better. Keep working harder. Push yourself to be the best.

“I …” You couldn’t answer her, you couldn’t make her angrier. You couldn’t disappoint her. “I’m sorry. I just needed some water. I’m starting again in a minute.” You rushed to get your explanation to her. She needed to know you weren’t stopping. You were just moving to a different exercise. You weren’t slacking.

“Again? What have you done already?” She wasn’t calming down. If anything, you were making her angry. With the lack of sleep, the mental exhaustion, the injury, it was becoming too much for you. Tears clouded your vision, Alexia becoming foggy as you tried to stop the emotions from bubbling up.

“I was just moving from the bike. I’ll start running now. I’m sorry. I’m not stopping, I promise.” You were a mess as you moved to start the treadmill.

Alexia stopped to look at you. Really, look at you. Your tired eyes, your dark circles and your sickly skin. The fatigue was evident in the way you stood; your body seemed too heavy for you to hold up. You also looked terrified. She couldn’t work out why, though. Yes, she was angry. A trainer had come into the medical room wondering who had cleared you for exercise. Alexia knew no one had done so; they had told her after the match that it would be 2 weeks or so before you could rejoin training at any level (after the string of injuries, the medical staff were also over-cautious in their assessments of minor injuries). So, she knew you were doing this against their advice. And that made her mad; it was one thing to push yourself in training despite coaches telling you not to overdo it but another to actively go against medical advice. But looking at you, she knew you hadn't asked for medical clearance. You were just a scared little girl.

“No, Chiquita. No, running.” Alexia was a lot calmer now, seeing your lip wobble and your eyes blink rapidly—clearly holding back tears.

“I have to. I can’t stop. I need to be better.” You whispered, ashamed of your perceived weaknesses.

“Cariño,” she cooed, reaching out to you. You flinched, not used to kind touches. Any touches you had received from coaches or captains were ones that would push you into running more, doing more drills, and practicing more set pieces. “Pequeña. You’re injured. You need to rest, mi amor.”

“I can’t rest. I need to train. I need to be better, do better.”

“No, Chiquita. You don’t. You need rest; you need to get well again.” Alexia stepped forward. She could see the war raging in your head – the desire to stop but the need to keep going. “Cariño?” Her kindness made you break. You launched yourself at her, arms wrapping around her neck as you cried into her. “Oh, amor. You’re ok. Está bien. Todo está bien. Prometo. Usted puede parar.” You sobbed into her shoulder, tears dampening her shirt as you howled. Everything was too much. You hurt, you needed to sleep, you wanted to stop, and yet you couldn’t. The voice in your head told you to keep going. Your parents and old coaches told you you weren’t allowed to stop. It was far, far, far too much for you.

“Neña, deep breaths. In … and out … vamos … in … and out.” Alexia instructed as you were becoming hysterical. She made her breaths exaggerated, slow and obvious, helping you to match hers. “Bien hecho, pequeña,” she pressed gentle kisses to your head as she eventually slowed down. “Y/N, I am not angry at you; no one is. But I need to know why you are in here and not at home resting.” Alexia implored, her hazel eyes looking directly at yours.

“I can’t stop,” you said meekly, slightly ashamed of your outburst.

“No entiendo. You can’t stop what?” She spoke slowly, like you would to a child or a scared animal.

“I can’t stop training. I need to be better. I need to do more,” you said, getting agitated—at her lack of understanding or at yourself. You weren’t quite sure.

“Amor, why do you need to be better?” Alexia was truly at a loss. You were so talented; you didn’t need to be better.

“Because everyone says so. They say so.” You looked so fragile and nervous, eyes darting around the room, your fingers twisting around each other.

“Who is ‘they’?”

“My parents … my old coaches.”

“Chiquita, listen to me. You do not need to be better. You are more than enough. You are so, so talented. You work so hard. But pushing yourself will not be good for you, the team, or anyone else. You need to rest, slow down, and allow your body to heal.”

With Alexia’s kind questioning, she soon got to the bottom of everything. You had told her about the harshness you had experienced from a young age, the disappointment and anger your parents had expressed during your first season at Barcelona, and the voice in your head telling you to keep pushing. She knew you had a way to go, but with gentle reminders and constant check-ins, you learnt how to quieten the voices. Training became easier, your home was no longer a place to get more workouts in, and you finally stopped listening to the devils in your life and started paying attention to the angels.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start. And that was all they could hope for.

I hope you enjoyed it. It was kinda short and I don't know if I really like the ending but yeh.

#barca femeni #barca femeni x reader #fc barcelona #woso blurbs #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #woso fanfics #woso fluff #woso oneshot #woso #womens football #woso angst

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months

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Rafayel is the type to claim that you’re the clingy one out of the pair of you, despite the fact that he’s the one who’s holding onto your hand, he was holding your hand so tightly in fact that you were afraid you might loose all feeling in it if he didn’t let up anytime soon.

And even when you do leave, Rafayel is automatically on the phone to you, sending text messages, FaceTime calls and so on until it was well past midnight and you were in desperate need of some sleep; But even then Rafayel is on the other end and holding his phone close to his chest as though he were holding you instead as he drifts off, hop in that one day his dream to have you across from him and spend your mornings, evenings and nights with him to come true one day.

He wishes he had the confidence and courage to ask you to move in with him but until then, he can only dream of what mundane domestic lifestyle you two would chose to have together in his dreams.

Rafayel is the type to search for aspects of yourself in everything he sees, in everywhere he goes, in everything that he touches. Everything reminded him of you in some shape or form, whether that be in a recent memory you shared together, or in something that you mentioned or did previously before meeting him; Even in his paintings there were aspects of you that he’s integrated into his artwork without realising until the finish product, so much so that he might as well have painted a portrait of you because that’s how much of the painting reminded Rafayel of you.

He’ll want to immortalise you in some abstract but beautiful way that would leave anyone breathless upon seeing it. This would be one of the paintings that he would never dare put up for auction, never. For this was his magnum opus and he would never allow for it to be hung up and have its origins forgotten in the hallway of some snobbish, rich aristocrat, who had no use for it other then as a decorative piece.

It’s his and his alone that he’d keep safe elsewhere and look at it when he needed to feel you near when you were psychically needed elsewhere.

Zayne may never and will never tell you he likes/loves you but that doesn’t mean he won’t have signs that were obvious that he cares for you deeply.

Especially when he’s putting a stop to your excessive usage of coffee and energy drinks by making you substitute it for water or when he’s making sure you eat proper meals and helping you develop a better sleep schedule that better suited you and your lifestyle.

He’s doing small things for you like;

Making sure you walk on the inside of the curb and away from traffic

Tying your shoelaces when he noticed that they’ve started to become undone during your walk.

Placing your keys in more obvious places because he know that you’ll forget where you last put them or keep ahold of them himself as your getting ready for your outing before silently holding them out towards you when you begin to look for them.

Helping with the cleaning because he knows that you don’t have the mental energy to bring yourself to do so yourself, something that he’ll never shame you for as he’d rather you have a healthy mental state rather then a destructive one.

Making your bed in the mornings.

Having your medication on hand should you need it and acting as your personal reminder to take them when it reaches a certain time.

Zipping up your coat, adjusting your scarf and gloves so that he knew that you’d be kept warm from the cold.

Making you a drink in the morning followed by a well balanced breakfast in bed, followed by a cheeky sweet treat.

Zayne may never answer will never tell you he likes/loves you but he can only hope that his actions were enough to show that, that they spoke loud enough, but then again he highly doubts it being a possibility.

#rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #rafayel x y/n #rafayel imagines #rafayel imagine #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x you #love and deepspace imagine #love and deepspace imagines #love and deepspace fic #love and deepspace fanfiction #zayne imagines #zayne imagine #zayne x reader #zayne love and deepspace

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ma1dmer · 6 months

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League of Legends - Sett NSFW

gives him a thousand smooches

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex): he gets so needy, he pulls you close and presses kisses on your cheeks and down your neck, he is not sure of exactly what he should be doing, but if you ask him he'll do it for you happily

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): he loves his arms, he'll let you hang on his arm and secretly flexes whenever you put your hands on his biceps, he is not being half as subtle as he thinks he is being. on you he loves your hair, the feel of it through his fingers, long or short it doesn't matter, he'll tug on it to pull you close to kiss you.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person): inside, he'll grunt and press himself as close to you as possible burying his head in your neck and dragging your hips flush against his grinding himself against you until he is fully done cumming.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): mommy kink? did someone say mommy kink? its something he discovers down the line, and it's a battle for him to actually accept it, but sett, would absolutely want to be dommed at least once, have him on his knees and call him a good boy, make him pleasure you and call you mommy, drag your nails through his scalp and he is weak.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?): honestly, I can't see him with that much experience, probably all talk no substance when it comes to sexual experience and how much he actually fucks, he has been so busy trying to make something of himself and build up this ,persona that he really hasn't allowed a lot of people close enough to do such things. it doesn't help that he feels like he should find the perfect person his mother will approve of.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual): mating press, he'll always inevitably revert to it no matter what, he'll push your thighs to your chest when he is close and pound you down while chasing his release apologising if you are whining about overstimulation.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc): he tends to be goofy without really realising it, doesn't understand why you are laughing ,but is just happy to have you laughing.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.): he is definitely hairy, with a thick happy trail leading down to his crotch that definitely matches his hair.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…): he can't really do romance, he'll try if you ask, but it definitely doesn't come naturally to him especially during sex. he does want to be romantic he just isn't sure how and needs some guidance.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon): pretty often surprisingly, he'll think of you and if you aren't anywhere nearby or if he feels like he shouldn't bother you, he'll try to get himself off, frustrated that it just doesn't feel right without you there. loves having you help him, even if it's just your hand, fingers wrapped so prettily around him as you stroke him carefully.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks): breeding, some mild primal play, praise etc

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do): anywhere with a closed door, the idea of maybe being caught does spike something inside of him.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going): he needs you to take the reigns when it comes to when you two fuck, he won't get any hints, he needs you to be upfront about it but once he gets it he is absolutely ready for you. nothing like a person who can put him in his place once in a while.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): hurt you, he is definitely on the more vanilla side ,he'll try if you ask enough times, but his heart just isnt into it, he might accidentally do something that hurts you, he is a big man after all and sometimes his strength can be overwhelming ,but doing it on purpose, absolutely not.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc): whatever he lacks in experience he makes up with enthusiasm, he'll hold your thighs open and occupy himself with eating you out for hours, he wants to be able to please you properly and he won't let you leave until he has found exactly what works for you.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.): fast and rough, some could say it's, animalistic.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.): he loves those, he loves when you come to him and ask for his attention in any way, his chest will puff up with pride and he'll tease you about needing the boss to take care of you.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.): i can see him as being very on board with trying out something when you two talk about it, but when it comes to actually doing something different he loses his steam, needing guidance and reassurance ,and if its entirely out of his comfort zone he might freeze up entirely.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…): his stamina is through the roof, especially if you challenge him on it.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?): doesn't get why you need them when you have him, but he can swallow his pride with a long talk about how they can help you both. He just loves pleasing you so much.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): he doesn't have the patience to tease you or for him to be teased, if you try to tease him he'll growl and get grumpy.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make): he is definitely loud, grunts and groans, and when he gets close he whimpers and whines and curses like fucking sailor.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice): sett is absolutely a very needy and quite possessive partner, i can see him taking initiative more when he spots someone hitting on you ,or when he is worried of losing you.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words): is it too self indulget to give him a knot? its my blog and i can give sett a knot!

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?): definitely more talk than what he is backing up when it comes to sex and how much sex he wants to be having, he needs you to set the pace for how much you'll be getting it on because be genuinely doesn't mind.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): he falls asleep very quickly ,wants to hear you talk ,wants to spend time with you but he is so cosy and you are so warm so he ends up drifting off and if he could purr, he absolutely would.

#sett #sett league of legends #sett lol #sett smut #sett x reader #league of legends x reader #league of legends smut #league of legends

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sugar-grigri · 4 months

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The ambivalence of life: the massage metaphor

I'm going to get straight to the point: Denji is perfectly right to want to suffer - it's precisely what he lacked in his 'normal' life.

To understand this, let's go back to the chapter.

Introducing Denji as a CSM wannabe right at the start of the chapter isn't as insignificant as you might think, because this chapter helps to differentiate between CSM and a CSM wannabe.

After all, Denji could very well be one, and chapter 150 makes it clear that the protagonist's dream is to be a CSM, so he literally wants... to be a CSM.

But in order to become CSM himself, we have to understand what CSM is. And that's precisely where the difference lies between a CSM wannabe and Denji as CSM.

Part 2 has repeatedly shown that 'CSM' has become a marketing product, an idol for young people, a source of detestation for others, like express usurpers who have taken to the stage. In short, CSM's identity began to become more diffuse, questioned to the point where it seemed to escape Denji. So what is CSM?

Well, let me ask you this: what's the first thing you think of when I mention CSM?

Most fans will cite the most traumatic and tragic chapters, shuddering at the mere mention of volume 9. There's your answer: suffering is the secret of CSM's identity.

But let's move away from this more meta side, and get back to the chapter.

I know that Nayuta being pushed aside and put in her place stung some people's hearts and it hurt me too! But Denji is right to push her away, cruel as that may seem. Because the complexity of Denji and Nayuta's relationship also lies in the fact that their relationship can have several negative sides.

Firstly, Nayuta is and remains the demon of control, a demon who can't help but have a hold, even over those she loves. And she has done this with Denji on one occasion: when she forbids him to see Asa again.

She forbids it out of a desire to protect him, fearing that Denji will be taken in by yet another girl. This reaction depresses Denji, but he regains hope by acting as CSM, motivated by Nayuta herself because CSM is admired and loved by people. The first instinct at this stage would be to think that this is a bit contradictory: why push Nayuta away when she's the first to admire and encourage CSM?

Because she hasn't grasped what CSM is all about either. I'll expand on that later, but for now, keep in mind that suffering is intrinsic to CSM. Even when she prevented Denji from continuing his story with Asa, she was preventing Denji from suffering, in itself, from experimenting. The same experience can be just as beneficial as it can be negative, and it's part of the game of life not to know the outcome of a relationship, otherwise you wouldn't go with others.

And that's what Nayuta has done, the demon of control has a happiness that's enough to be two, it's a demon that risks being alone so much that a single loved one is enough to make her happy. But that's Nayuta's idea, not Denji's.

I'll come back to this a bit more, but for the moment I'm still going to follow the chapter. Denji almost comes to thank Barem and the others for burning down his house and his pets, but he's also aware that morality is being undermined and even talks to Pochita about it. And that's fascinating.

Even though it may seem horrible, the loss of his animal family allows Denji to realise that he needs this suffering in his life, for many reasons. If Kishibe judged Denji as a man made to kill demons, it's because suffering makes him gloat, because it's the most intense experience he's had in his life.

Transforming himself into a CSM is a way for Denji to confront suffering; he has even internalised it since he was a child, making his body suffer to pay off his debts.

CSM is a creature made for suffering. When Aki became possessed by the Gun Devil, CSM was the culmination of Denji's suffering, his demonic form killing his brother. Just as Denji transformed into Pochita was saved by a dying Power.

The foundations of Denji, Aki and Power only consolidated Denji's relationship with suffering. This double facet, between love and suffering through grief. Pochita is another example, because becoming CSM was followed by an experience of mourning, the loss of Pochita who had merged with him.

Suffering is as intrinsic to all species as are death and love because suffering is the result of both, the love we have for others is the cause of our suffering when they die.

CSM is this universality, with Pochita sacrificing himself to prevent Denji from dying, suffering every time the cable is pulled. And instead of fighting it, CSM uses it as the engine of his chainsaws. When Nayuta says that this is not the time for chainsaws, she wants to prevent her brother from suffering. But Denji understands that it's precisely when he's suffering that it's time to be CSM.

Having your head and arms brutally chopped off hurts, fighting demons hurts, in short, transforming into a CSM physically hurts and must hurt. Imagine having a cable cut in half across your torso: it hurts, so why pull it? That's why Denji IS CSM, because it's when it hurts that he realises he wants to be CSM?

Hybrids don't exploit this pain, demons like the Eternity Demon are even afraid of it, and that's what explains CSM's superiority: suffering exalts him and he uses it as a means to fight. When Quanxi cut off the weapons' heads, it was enough for them to admit defeat, while Denji calmly puts his head back on, not giving up the fight.

Weapons can't die, but they can see others die, just as suffering can't escape them either. Either they see themselves almost as demigods, as prophets, or they can see themselves as great knights out to save the world.

Denji knows how to exploit his nature; he drinks blood at the slightest opportunity, tries to devour like a demon and is not afraid to use it, unlike the other hybrids. (Quanxi is an exception)

As the spear weapon starts to provoke CSM by saying to really scare them, CSM exploits being sliced in half. Suffering is the fear of weapons.

The whole thing also has a symbolic force, because we've been trying endlessly to cut Denji in two, his human life on the one hand and his life as CSM on the other. Cutting CSM in two won't do him any good, all he has to do is pull his cable.

But above all, the comparison with massage is a very good one, because it sums up life, this combination of good sensations and not-so-good ones. This is precisely what pitted Denji against Makima, that bad films or bad facets of the world and humanity must exist.

This time, part 2 doesn't boil down to this ideology; what Denji is saying is that to live is also to suffer, to be happy is also to have been unhappy. All these things are not mutually exclusive, they go together.

That's why Denji wins against the weapons, because he won't fight against the suffering they'll put him through, he'll use it to the full, knowing that behind it all there'll be a good feeling. And that seeing the positive side even in pain is nothing other than hope.

Denji himself says that life is a superposition of all these facets. There are things we may never get over, but they don't stop us from moving forward. That's why this chapter is incredible, because Denji doesn't accept suffering as a demon when he's fighting, he wants to accept it in his life too, Denji's life, he has to experiment without Nayuta's permanent approval.

Denji has lost many people close to him, including his pets. It is precisely through their loss that he wants to suffer. Because suffering is the privilege of the living.

Chainsaw Man is nothing more than 2 entities reunited to survive together.

CSM's laughter is symbolic of this, and chapter 151 made an explicit reference to chapter 82 when Makima starts laughing despite the paroxysm of suffering for Denji, who has just seen Power die. What Fujimoto does is bring together the previous antagonist and the protagonist, to bring out the essence of his work.

Both Makima and Denji laugh despite the horror of the situation as the mask finally comes off, Makima presents her plans and Denji realises what Chainsaw Man is. In short, laughter is the symbol of letting go, as the mask finally comes off. And all this sums up Chainsaw Man, this confrontation between comedy and tragedy, this strange association.

Readers, don't fight the suffering of the characters either, you're reading CSM precisely because of it. You want to suffer just like CSM. So have fun with it.

#chainsaw man #csm #csm part 2 #csm spoilers #csm 152 #csm 151 #denji hayakawa #denji #asa mitaka #yoru #nayuta #nayuta hayakawa #kishibe #pochita #makima #tatsuki fujimoto #my thoughts #csm analysis

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clerc16 · 4 months

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mamma mia

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: sometimes, in order to live the summer you want, you have to take a chance and risk everything. in your case, going to italy while knowing absolutely nothing about the country. not even the language.

warnings: google translated italian, language. nothing else (for now). this will contain narrated parts and social media parts.

01: THE ARRIVAL

Easier said than done. Your summer in Italy was not off to a good start. Almost midnight and literally no taxis. Wasn’t this an airport? Where are the taxis?!

You sighed as you stood awkwardly outside the airport gates, praying for a car to show up. Much to your dismay, nothing had appeared, and you were beginning to regret this whole trip.

You looked around for a few more minutes before deciding to walk further down the road. Maybe there will be cars around there, yeah?

Well, no. Nothing, absolutely nothing - the only cars in sight were either parked or not taxis. You sighed loudly as you shook your head, the jet lag beginning to creep up on you and the overall exhaustion and stress of the flight.

You felt - and looked - hopeless, as you walked around the streets with your luggage bag, not knowing what to do. At one point, you did come across a few taxi drivers, but they all spoke little to no English. Just your luck.

Eventually, you decided to sit down and text Nat again. The chances of her replying were low, but not low enough to discourage you from actually messaging her.

As you walked, you found an empty bench across the street, and you decided to cross and stay there for a while. There were very little cars around during this moment as the city was beginning to fall asleep, but did you want to risk it? No. So you waited until the lights turned red.

The weather was warm, but there was some slight wind which caused you to momentarily feel peace.

Momentarily.

Just as the lights turned red, you began to cross the street, but a car coming at full speed braked slightly too late, and you swore you saw your life flash before your eyes.

There was a small moment of panic, but when the car stopped merely a few centimeters away from you, the panic slowly dissipated and was replaced by none other than anger. Fury, even.

As the driver hastily jumped out of the car, clearly panicked, you began to yell mindlessly at them.

“Are you insane?! You almost just ran me over because - what the hell were you even doing?!” You screamed, unaware of the driver’s constant apologies.

“I am so sorry - I didn’t see you, I didn’t realise the lights were red, I-” He continues, slowly making his way towards you.

“Fuck’s sake. Just forget it. My night can’t get any worse, anyway.” You sigh as you begin to walk away.

“Wait- no, I’m really sorry, are you hurt?” He asks, still following behind you.

“No.” You say coldly, not turning around. But when you feel him still standing there, you finally turn around. You can see, and sense, that he truly feels sorry, and also somewhat shocked about this occurrence.

“Do you... need any help?” He mumbles after a while, looking at your luggage. You sigh, then proceed to tell him - the opportunity came straight to you, might as well just use it.

“I just arrived in Italy a while ago. There are literally no taxis in sight, I cannot speak Italian and I just want to go to my hotel.”

He pauses for a moment before speaking up again.

“Well, it is pretty late. Would you like me to... maybe give you a ride?”

You considered it for a second: you just met the man, he almost killed you, you don’t even know his name, and now he is offering to drive you to your hotel.

“No pressure.” He says again, softly. You sigh and nod; you truly had no other options. He smiles a little before helping you put your bag in the backseat, allowing you to get into his car.

The car ride was short and quiet, but calm. On multiple occasions, he attempted to start a conversation, but it was shut down quite fast. Possibly due to your visible exhaustion and tiredness.

As you finally reached the hotel, you breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Uh... thanks for... driving me,” you say, looking at him. He smiles back, waving it off.

“It’s nothing, really. I’m Charles, by the way.” He says. You nod, then freeze halfway through.

You knew you recognised him from somewhere, something - it’s fucking Charles Leclerc. Charles Leclerc almost ran you over then drove you back to your hotel. In Italy.

“Oh! I actually- I know you,” you say, trying to seem nonchalant and calm. Deep inside, you were freaking out. He laughs at your response slightly.

“That makes my life a lot easier,” he replies before getting out of the car to grab your luggage.

“I’m Y/N. Y/N L/N ... thanks for driving me, again,” you smile as you take your luggage from him.

“No worries!”

You stand there for a moment, wanting to say something, but not being able to.

“Have a nice night, Y/N - enjoy the rest of your holiday,” he finally says with a wink, as you nod in thanks and begin to walk inside the hotel.

Holy shit, what just happened?

🔔 charles_leclerc just followed you!

mamma mia here i go again!

lmao i hope this was nice and promising, hopefully i will get to work on a next part soon! ❤️

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 #scuderia ferrari #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc imagine #formula 1 #charles leclerc x you #fanfics

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sleepingdeath-light · 1 year

Text

s/o who stays with him hcs ; lovesick!wally

requested by ; anonymous (06/05/23)

fandom(s) ; welcome home

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; wally darling

outline ; “Sweeet! Could I get Lovesick! Wally x reader where reader realizes that Wally is aggressive when he's ignored and most of his love is focused on them so they decide to stay inside Home, getting sick too but Wally is calm and stops trying to escape, just wanting to be around reader now”

warning(s) ; lovesick au, reader succumbs to the same sickness as wally, self sacrifice, references to reader losing their mind, author is new to writing for welcome home so characterisation might need some tweaks in the future

you were doing this to protect the others — everything you had done was for them and if you kept on reminding yourself of that then, maybe, this whole situation could be that bit more bearable for you

but, then again, there was only so much one could do to ease their mind when you were spending every second of every day trapped inside of the same four walls with someone who was sick

so very sick

and you knew you were too

you could feel it in your mind, warping your perceptions and thoughts — making your mind feel less and less like you

you wondered if this was what wally felt before he became too far gone — before the aggression and obsession kicked in and he started to jeopardise the lives of everyone in the neighbourhood to get to you

spreading this disease through words and a phone line that nobody could bring themselves to cut off no matter how many times you begged them to

so, with no other options in sight, you gave in

gave him exactly what he wanted

gave up the potential for a cure or salvation

gave up your freedom

gave it all up because they deserved better — they didn’t deserve what wally was putting you all through

julie deserved to keep wandering through the neighbourhood and styling her hair and her clothes in ways only she could pull off

frank deserved to keep chasing butterflies

sally deserved to keep on pursuing her passion for performance

barnaby deserved to keep on entertaining everyone and being himself

poppy deserved to be able to keep on baking the foods she loves

howdy deserved to keep on tending to his business and multitasking with an expertise only he could have

eddie deserved to be able to keep on doing his job and pursuing what he loves

they deserved better than this

they deserved freedom, and that was your last gift to your friends — the last act of true kindness that you were allowed before you too became trapped in home

trapped with the man who had been incessantly calling you, preaching his adoration and affection and obsession through the speakers every day — moving on to others when you stopped picking up

calling once then twice then dozens and hundreds of times a day when he realised you weren’t answering intentionally and he started to become frantic

desperate for your attention, your affection, your adoration

to hear your voice, to see your smile

he wanted you — needed you

and now he had you

and now you realised just how far gone your old friend was — how wally hadn’t been wally in a very long time

it was his eyes, they’d changed and you couldn’t help but notice how drastically they had when you had nothing else to do but look at him

they were filled with hearts

they were branded with them, like he was filled to the brim and bursting with this overwhelming feeling and it was starting to warp even his appearance

but that wasn’t the end of it

his usually perfectly styled hair had been left to flop over his face — an ocean of messy, tangled blue only partially obscuring his painfully dilated warped eyes as he stared at you all day long

a small part of you wondered how much your own appearance had changed — a larger part of you was terrified to find out

the small consolation that you had was that wally had become completely docile once he’s realised that you were now staying with him

the escape attempts stopped and as did the constant calls, as he had no reason to keep on doing either

you were right here, after all, so why would he ever need to leave?

most of the time he just sits and stares at you, love ringing clear in his dreamy expression as he looks at you like you yourself hung the stars in the sky

like you were an art piece to be admired

like he could see you for exactly who you were

you felt exposed, naked, vulnerable

but you couldn’t leave so you just grinned and beared it

making sure to cut all of the phone lines the moment you settled in to your new, comfortable prison

other times he’d actually talk to you, his words well considered and his tone oddly airy and light — carrying like a dandelion seed in the breeze, more whisper or hum than words really — and hanging so dearly off of every word you said

he treated your statements like gospel, your syllables like sermons, your words like the greatest philosophical constructs — considering each thing you said heavily before responding

sometimes he’d just touch you, grasping your hand, running his fingertips along your face when he thought you were sleeping

like he couldn’t believe that you were really there

like it was all a dream and he was going to wake up and it would all go back to the nightmare he was living before

and through it all you were coping with the reality of just how sick your friend was — how horrifically obsessed he’d become with you and how it would ruin him if you left

and you could feel yourself slipping

bit by bit; slowly at first

your eyes would linger on him for a few seconds longer than you meant to

you’d catch yourself smiling whenever you stumbled upon his restful form

but over time these changes became so significant that you could no longer dismiss them

you were sick, really sick, and you could feel yourself slipping away

and in a sick and twisted way you couldn’t find yourself caring — the small part of you that did being massively drowned out by the larger not-you part that was already too far gone

you were sick and you were changed but you were in love and you had your wally

and in much the same way that wally lost all of his aggression the moment you relented, you lost your will to fight before it had even formed

because you had him and thus, really, you had no reason to leave

your neighbours would get over your loss eventually, you were sure, but for now what you really needed was to give your love a hug

it had been far too long since the last…

#sleepingdeath #gender neutral reader #lovesick au #welcome home x reader #wally darling x reader #reader insert #first fandom request

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avocado-writing · 7 months

Text

Kinktober 4

4. Overstimulation, Oviposition/Egglaying, Human Urinal

notes: this was inspired by this incredible fic from @naromoreau, thank you so much for putting naga!crowley into my mind! also this is super monster-fucky. i do not apologise.

afab!reader

biologically this is not at all how snakes work but uhhhhhhh Crowley is a demon so I’m allowed creative license 🤷‍♂️

Crowley’s been irritable.

Snapping, brooding, being generally difficult to be around. You can tell Aziraphale doesn’t love it either, but he’s at least had the commodity of knowing Crowley for longer. In fifty years of happy romance between the three of you this is the first time that your demon has ever gotten on your nerves, and you won’t stand for it.

“Look,” you say through gritted teeth after he’s barked at you for some unrealised slight, “you’re in a mood. But it isn’t my fault, and it isn’t Aziraphale’s, so stop taking it out on us.”

Aziraphale freezes and looks between the two of you. Crowley raises himself up to his full height… and then deflates.

“Sorry,” he mutters, running a hand over his face. “You’re right, it isn’t your fault. I’m just…”

He trails off, and you can tell he’s trying to work out if he should admit something. You close the gap and take his hand.

“Crowley, love. If there's something the matter you need to tell me. Tell us. We can help!”

Is he blushing? It’s hard to tell, as he turns his face away.

“Look, I’m just a bit… worked up.”

“Oh! …Oh. Well, there’s no reason we can’t assist with that?”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Crowley sighs. You look over to Aziraphale. He clearly has more of an idea of what’s going on, but knows it’s Crowley’s truth to tell. “It’s demon breeding season.”

Your cheeks get hot all of a sudden.

“Oh, I see. I didn’t even realise they had one of those.”

“Well, of course. Otherwise where would new demons come from?” he asks, baffled at your confusion. You suppose you don’t have an answer for that.

“So what do you need to do?”

“Well, usually I’d just slither downstairs and find someone receptive and we’d –”

“No!” you say, suddenly, with such force it makes both of your partners jump. In the future you’ll experiment more with other bodies, engage in orgies so you can watch Aziraphale and Crowley be fucked (and become smug in the way it’s never quite as good as when you do it) but for now the idea of your demon being in bed with anyone but the people in this room shreds your heart. “I mean, look. You don’t need to do that. I’ll help.”

“We’ll help,” Aziraphale says softly. You know this must be quite a gap for him to bridge, having known Crowley when he’s been going through these heats before, but now knowing him as a lover. Crowley looks between the two of you, strangely touched.

“Are you certain? I don’t look… I’m a bit more demonic when I need to mate.”

The idea sends a chill down your spine to straight between your legs.

“That’s fine,” you say, a little too quickly. Despite it all, Crowley grins.

“Alright. Get to the bedroom. I’ll be right with you.”

🐍

You strip down, quickly, excitedly. Secretly you’ve wondered about what Crowley looks like when he’s a proper demon for a while. Hellfire caressing your skin? Horns to grab onto? Your mind is going a mile a minute.

You turn to Aziraphale. He’s removed his cravat and overcoat, and is currently turning up his sleeves to the elbow. You look at him, confused.

“Are you not going to…?” you gesture to your bare body. Aziraphale smiles.

“I think this might be something you want to experience by yourself first, love.”

You open your mouth to ask him what that means, but you’re distracted by the sound of a door creaking.

Crowley slithers in.

No, literally.

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t this. The top half of him is the Crowley you know. Bronzed skin, copper hair down his back, yellow eyes with blown-wide snake pupils.

But that isn’t the only part of him that’s serpentine.

From his hips onwards, he is entirely tail. Black scales rippling as he moves towards you, osteoderms moving with his breath. He looks both entirely like and unlike himself, a strange creation of familiar and not.

He is beautiful.

“Oh,” is all you can manage from where the rest of your body has frozen. You know it was the wrong move, because Crowley looks deflated.

“You don’t like it,” he says with a sigh, and you immediately feel terrible. What he means is ‘you don’t like me.’ You can hear the sadness tinging his voice. So you step forward, hand out, careful.

“No, love, it’s not that at all. Just give me a moment to… adjust.”

You move forward, unsure how to touch him. Aziraphale’s voice whispers from behind you:

“Go on, nightingale. He won’t hurt you.” And then, after a beat, when the angel realises what you’re really worried about, “you won’t hurt him.”

You run your palm along the soft heat of his scales and Crowley sighs, both in relief and in excitement. You take your time, exploring the pattern of him, the curve of his tail. You don’t realise but soon he’s begun to curl around you, wrapping you up gorgeously tight in his coils. Soon your legs are totally engulfed by him.

“Isss thisss alright, nightingale?” he asks, voice low. You try to move and find that you can’t, really, but at the same time you’re fine with it - you know the one holding you is someone you trust with your life.

“Very,” you laugh. You feel someone embrace you from behind and realise Aziraphale has crossed over to you, his chest against your back, his face buried in the crook of your neck. You give yourself over to the strange new feeling of being held like this.

“So now what?” you ask, looking at Crowley’s tail, trying to work out how he mates. It doesn’t take you long to find it: a slit towards where his groin would be, beginning to leak slick down his scales. You run your fingers over it and Crowley gasps, shuddering. “Do you need me to touch you here?”

Crowley shakes his head, breathless with delighted chuckles.

“No. Well, I want you to, but that doesssn’t have to be part of it.”

You decide that you want to as well. You press into him there, his cloaca, and giggle when he leans forward to rest his forehead on your free shoulder.

“Fuck…” he groans.

“If you’re offering,” you say, cheekily. Both your partners huff a laugh, and as you explore deeper into him, you feel something beginning to emerge. You remove your hand to make way, expecting some sort of appendage… and to be fair, it is, but not one you’ve ever seen before.

“What’s that?” you ask, breathless and both bewildered and gleeful.

“That’sss… what I use to lay my eggs.”

A beat passes.

“Hmm.”

“Sssstill game?”

“Crowley, am I going to get pregnant from this?” you ask with very real concern. A hand comes up to caress your face, a thumb swipes across the plush of your lips.

“No, love. I’d need to fertilissse them too, and I won’t do that. I jusssst need sssomewhere to, erm. Push them.”

Well, you’ve come this far. Over the last fifty years the three of you have introduced many things into the bedroom: lace, leather, toys. But as your demonic lover says he wants to lay eggs inside you while your angelic one helps you brace for it, it’s nice to know that there’s still some surprises you can give each other.

You nod, and lay back. Crowley’s eyes go wide.

“You’re sssure?”

“Yes, love. Of course.”

What leaves his cloaca is a tube, for want of a better term. It’s just over a foot long and dripping with slickness. It seems to give him pleasure as it releases, you know what he looks like when he’s about to orgasm, and when it twists its way towards you all you can do is relax into his tail, into Aziraphale’s arms.

The angel threads his fingers through yours and holds you tightly.

“You’ll be fine, darling.”

“You don’t seem very surprised about any of this,” you say, breathlessly. A thought occurs to you. “Hang on, have you done this before?”

Aziraphale goes bright pink.

“Erm…”

“Once,” Crowley hisses, grinning - have his teeth gotten sharper? No, he’s just grown fangs - “yearsssss ago. Before either of ussss met you.”

“I was a friend helping another friend,” Aziraphale says quickly, a line he’s clearly been using to justify his lust for years. You can’t help but laugh at your utterly daft and obtuse lovers, and that’s good – it loosens you up and allows Crowley to slip inside your cunt.

You’re already quite wet from the new, explorative play that’s come so far, but the tube is slick and searching. It surges up inside you, far inside you, further than either of their cocks have ever hit, but it doesn’t hurt. Something about what it’s secreting is relaxing your inner muscles and allowing it access into your core. You gasp as you feel Crowley root himself there, and the demon moans.

“Fuck. You’re…”

You’re too overstimulated to reply, so just nod. Yes. He is, too. Across the width of your shoulders you see Aziraphale kiss Crowley, soft and long.

“You are so lovely like this, Crowley.”

“Gorgeous,” you manage, honestly, and Crowley looks like the praise might make him burst. Settling back into the moment he locks his eyes on yours, serious, sincere.

“”I’m going to ssstart now. It might feel a bit sssstrange, but I promisssse it will be good.”

“It is,” Aziraphale agrees, shyly. You smile, and nod. You trust them.

Crowley closes his eyes and you see him squeeze. Something travels through his tube, passing through him and up inside you. The strange spherical nature of the object has you gasping, firstly in surprise and then in pleasure. The press of it is strange and illicit and when it pops inside of you, you try to roil; you can’t though. Crowley has you too tightly.

“That’sss the firsssst one.”

“Oh my god,” you moan.

“Are you alright?”

“Keep going,” you command, your voice no-nonsense. And Crowley does. Another egg passes from inside him to inside you, pressing through your cervix with no issue to deposit safely. After four of them you’re beginning to feel a bit full. By seven, you can feel the eggs jostling around inside of you, an unusual and filthy intimate slide. Your silky insides are making them the perfect home.

“How… how many are there?” you breathe. Crowley’s face is drenched with sweat, his eyes rolling back in his head. From his cloaca a fresh stream of cum drips onto the tops of your thighs.

“Usually ten or twelve.”

“Twelve?!” you gasp, not sure how you’ll fit those, but willing to try. On cue, another egg presses your vulva apart and nestles in deep.

You’re showing them now, stomach starting to stretch. It doesn’t hurt though. It feels wonderful. You’ve never been so full before, your body warm and deliciously thrumming. You look over your shoulder to where Aziraphale is holding you, in some strange approximation of a husband helping a wife give birth. His eyes are firmly fixed on your abdomen, lips slightly apart, cheeks bright red.

“Aziraphale?”

“Sorry, darling. You just look…” he trails off, instead choosing to rest his hand on your stomach. You moan as he bumps the eggs inside you, and for a moment you’re swept up in it, and think it wouldn’t be so bad to have Crowley make them viable, maybe you’d quite like carrying his clutch, so long as the two of them looked after you like this.

The last two eggs come at once, one right after the other, filling you to the brim. You can feel them taking up the tunnel to your core, hardly fitting in properly. You whine and try to find a way to feel comfortable, but you’re so full, so needy, and they’re pushing against that sweet spot inside you, and –

You come unexpectedly, an orgasm wracking your body wildly. It takes over your every sense with a crashing wave, your cunt tightening and spasming as Crowley finally withdraws. You’ve never been so stuffed in your life and it’s wonderful.

“How long… How long do they stay?” you manage when your heart is finally at a normal pace again.

“A couple of hoursss, until they realissse they’re not going to grow. Then they’ll disssssolve.”

“Dissolve?!”

“It won’t hurt, my love,” Aziraphale assures you, hand still protectively on your bump. “In fact it’s somewhat of an aphrodisiac.”

You moan and collapse into them. You’re not sure how you’re going to survive this.

@bootlmoth @elleofdragons @angelic-anarchy27 @yeethaw13 @candlewitch-cryptic @kwyn-q @rat-that-writes @buryustogether @letthenightingalessingagain @ltlthetrifecta @angiestopit @purplefrog1sblog @wereallbrokenangels @angelspathway @clarina04 @belilwen @chaospossum @eightsdoctor @oo-delallymrcrow @silcosmoke @climbingivy97 @live-logs-and-proper @project-sad @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @imagination-phantom @anonymously35 @corgis04 @peytonpenguin37 @catlynharper @unabashedgentlemenpirate @wolfe-houler @darktealrat @mxxny-lupin @willbedecided @detectiveapparatiagreen @shadowluna25 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @xquinn-bartonx @blue-bell22 @foolishprincipalitee @fandomawesomeness @eweweweewewe @latersgaters-steven @llamaproblem @night-affiliate @randompost18 @hunterispunk @jessica-laufeysdottir @uxcaran @bunnymallowo @jae-michael

#aziraphale x reader x crowley #crowley x reader x aziraphale #Fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween #avo's kt 23

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la-petite-lapin · 15 days

Text

Double the Love | Part Eight

Double the Love masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x female civilian!OC Word Count: 2.1k Series warnings (may change between chapters): 18+ Minors DNI, angst, mentions of death, mentions of violence, excessive swearing, mentions of sexually explicit content, self doubt, OC has anxiety, poor communication, polyamory, M/M/F, FMC is (once again) bad at feelings

The morning after

The next morning, John calls.

Simon and Johnny have left to get some food shopping in, allowing me some much needed time to decompress. I woke up this morning feeling... I don't know. Conflicted. Confused. Like the consequences of getting myself into this - whatever this is - are finally starting to land.

"Hey, Tali," John says softly, and I can hear voices talking in the background. A woman, not Marcella, and a man who sounds fairly pissed off. It takes me a minute to recognise that it belongs to Gaz. "How are things on your end?"

I blow out a long breath. "Everything's okay."

There's a pause. A long pause. An I-know-that's-bullshit kind of one. "Talia, come on. It's me you're talking to." When I don't immediately spill my guts, he adds, "If you won't tell me what's playing on your mind, at least talk to Winslow. Marcella, even. Or, if it's something that the boys have done, try and talk to them about it. They're far more understanding than they look."

My heart stutters in my chest. That's part of the problem. And, to add to that, I don't even know what's wrong.

In the past few days, I've gone from not wanting any sort of relationship at all, to wanting nothing more than to have both of them tell me that they want me. Not even that they love me - God knows that it's far too soon for anything that serious - but something. Any sign that last night was more meaningful to them than a couple hours of mindless fun with a brand-new toy.

But I don't know how to ask. And I don't kind I'm strong enough to handle the inevitable rejection. Not when I've grown to consider them as friends.

"I would... if there was something wrong," I grumble back. My eyes flicker around the empty apartment/ Maybe having some more company around would be a good distraction. "Can you and Kyle come over again, please?"

I can hear the smile in John's voice as he replies. "We're a little busy at the moment, but I'm sure we can sort something out for the weekend. We could watch some more of those God-awful military movies Gaz likes to rip apart."

I snort out a laugh. "Perfect."

We say our goodbyes and John hangs up, muttering something about an 'incident' that he needs to deal with. But, before I can put my phone down, I catch a glimpse of a missed call and a text message from Winslow, all while I was on the call with John.

WINSLOW SLOANE: Call me xx

I'm calling her number before I can even think about it, a sense of panic gripping my chest as I raise the phone to my ear. What if she'd been in an accident? What if she was hurt? Stuck somewhere in a foreign country with no way of me getting to her...?

"Hey, honey," Winnie says immediately, answering on the third ring. Her voice soothes my frayed nerves, so much so that I almost let out a sigh of relief. Just hearing her makes me feel lighter than I have all day.

"I'm so happy to hear your voice." It's only been a matter of days since we last spoke on the phone, but it feels like it was a lifetime ago somehow. Thank God she only has two weeks of her France trip left before she's back home again. "How's Paris?"

Winnie lets out a breathy laugh. "It's been... interesting to say the least. But it's part of the reason why I called." The cold feeling of realisation slides in as she elaborates, "It looks like I might have to stay a little while longer. Just while I help them sort some stuff out and tidy up some loose ends."

My heart seizes at the vagueness of 'a little while longer'. "Okay. How long is that looking?"

"Um... maybe an extra week."

"Oh." It's the only word I can think of.

"I know, I know. I'm really sorry, Tali," Winnie says, and I can hear the genuine sadness in her voice. "I'll be back in time for Alex's birthday though, I promise."

My gaze trails across to the calendar hanging up beside the kitchen. Just under a month. In four weeks, he would have turned thirty.

We would have thrown a big party; which would have pissed Alex off to no end. He would've grumbled about it for months, complaining that he's a private person, which is just a code word for boring, but secretly loving that I'd gone to the effort. Just like his twenty-first.

My heart aching in my chest, I say, "It's okay, Win. You've got to do what you've got to do, and I have the guys here to keep me company." There's a beat of silence, so I follow it up with, "And I'm going back to work, which I've strangely missed."

We both laugh at that.

"Anyway, how've you been?" I can hear Winnie settling in on the other end of the line. I find it more amusing than I care to admit that she's still so invested in what's going on back here while she's living it up overseas. Despite it being a work trip, I've seen her Instagram posts. She's thriving over there.

"I've been good. But there is something you might be interested to know."

Winnie giggles. "Oh? Please enlighten me."

A mischievous grin forms on my lips. "I slept with them. Both of them."

There's a long stretch of silence. It's a pause so long that, for a minute, I think the call might have dropped.

"Winnie? You still there?"

She coughs, spluttering for a second. "Still here. Just stunned into silence because... wow! You really did it? With both of them? How did that even work? What was it like? I have so many questions, Tali! You can't just drop a bomb like that than and not expect me to have questions!"

A laugh slips past my lips, dissolving into a burst of laughter. "It was something new. But it was fun. They didn't take everything all serious and alpha like some guys probably would. They made it fun, we laughed about stuff, and the aftercare was perfect."

"10 out of 10 would recommend then?"

"I would," I reply, letting myself smile. Despite all of the conflicted feelings I have about what happens now, it doesn't in any way diminish how unwaveringly happy I feel thinking about last night.

We talk a bit more - mostly about all of the interesting people Winnie has met in Paris, the new places she's seen, and all the restaurants she's tried - before she has to go. We say our goodbyes and I promise to call her in the morning on my way into the office. Not long after, I hear the sound of the spare key turning in the lock, and I look up to see Johnny nudging the front door open.

He's beaming, a broad smile on his face and two overflowing shopping bags in his hands. Simon follows him into the kitchen, carrying the other three. He nods to me on his way past, a black surgical mask covering the lower half of his face.

"Want to help us with the meal plan, princess?" Si calls out from the kitchen.

Huh?

I follow them through into the kitchen to find Johnny leaning over the counter with a piece of paper and a pen, as Simon dutifully unpacks the bags. Johnny takes one glance at the questioning look on my face before offering me one of his most charming smiles. "Me and Si were talking. Did'nae think it's fair for ye to be doing all the cooking, not when ye're going back to work now. And we eat most of it."

A frown forms on my lips. "I didn't complain about it."

Si turns around now. "We know, but we don't think it's right. You do a lot for us already, darlin'. Just let us do something for you."

I try not to blush as I fold my arms across my chest. "Fine. Okay."

Johnny grins. "So, what do ye want on Monday?"

After dinner, we settle in to watch TV in the living room. I fold myself into my armchair, letting Johnny and Simon cuddle up together on the sofa.

It's hard not to keep glancing over at them; even harder to hold back the un-earned feeling of jealousy that keeps nipping at my heart. They're a couple. They're allowed to act lovey-dovey in the privacy of their own home.

Home. Thinking about that makes it even worse. At some point - when all of their army drama blows over - they're going to leave.

Logically, I know that. I know that me, them, and Winnie can't all live in this two-bedroom apartment together, but it still stings. It's irrational, and I know it.

I watch as Simon runs his fingers through Johnny's hair - the Scotsman all but asleep with his head in his partner's lap - as I swallow down the growing resentment. Bitterness coats my tongue, and I swallow thickly.

Simon looks over, because of course he does, with a questioning look of concern. Mask-free, it's all too easy to see his expression now. It almost hurts to look at his face; to know just how beautiful he was.

I shake my head and close my eyes, kicking myself for being so stupid about this.

We're all grown-ups. We agreed to have sex. It was one night.

But then why does my chest burn when I think about them, like someone's trying to squeeze the life out of me?

"You alright, love?"

I nod, my eyes still firmly shut. Why did I do this to myself? Let myself have a taste of the one thing I can't have from them?

"Hey, love," Simon calls again, voice laced with something I can't place. "Open your eyes for me, yeah?"

So, I do. I open my eyes and level him with the blankest expression I can muster. "I don't feel well. I'm going to go for a walk," I say, thankfully giving no hint of my emotions. "I'll be back before midnight."

His hazel eyes harden. "Not on your own you're fucking not."

I wince, but something in my resolve strengthens. "You can't tell me what I can and can't do."

"I'm not telling you what to do," he growls. "I'm saying it's dark out, it's cold as fuck, and I'm not having you out there alone surrounded by a bunch of creeps while I sit in here like a lemon."

We stare at each other for a long, long time.

Uncharacteristically, he breaks the silence first. "Just let me put Johnny in our room and I'll come with you." He nods to the dead-weight of a completely knocked-out Johnny's cheek resting on his muscular thighs.

My temper flares. "I didn't invite you."

I can feel Simon battling his anger from here. I also get the distinct impression that if I was anybody else - other than Johnny - I'd have already received the bollocking of my lifetime for being so damned difficult right now.

"The only way you're leaving this flat tonight, princess, is if I'm with you," he grumbles, hazel eyes dark and unwavering as he pins me with a glare. A glare that tells me Ghost is back. "I'll lock you in your room to keep you safe if I fucking have to."

I match him with a fierce glare of my own. "Why do you fucking care?"

That seems to take him aback. His eyes soften, the harsh line of his mouth pulling down at the corners, making the scars around it all the more apparent. "Of course I care."

"But why?" A hollow laugh slips past my kips and I spring up from my armchair, starting to pace in front of the TV. I'm completely aware that I must look borderline hysterical as I look at him with wild eyes. "I'm just one of the many, many women you two have fucked. Why do you care if I want to go walking at night? If I cook dinner?"

Simon's frown deepens. "That's not what this is. You know that."

"Really?" I gesture wildly to Johnny, who's still blissfully unaware of what's happening. "All night you've been cuddled up, while I've just sat here and... and watched you. Do you know how much that hurts? After last night when you made me feel so fucking included? And now you're back to making me feel like an outsider." The words spill out of their own accord, frantic and rushed as I feel the tears start to roll down my cheeks. A broken-sounding laugh bubbles up from my throat. "I've spent all day telling myself I wouldn't do this because it's so fucking embarrassing. It was one night, and now you're both going to think I'm crazy."

Si stares back at me and the expression on his face is so heartbroken that it hurts. "I... we didn't know you'd see it like that."

My heart cracks in two inside my chest. The tears pour even faster as I glare down at my slipper-covered feet.

How could I be so reckless? I've just ruined everything.

"Tali, can you come here please?"

My eyes trail back to Simon. To his hand patting the tiny space on the sofa beside him - the side not occupied by Johnny, soft snores pouring out of his mouth like cats' purrs. My feet carry me across the room. I slot myself into the gap beside Simon, trying not to let any part of my body touch his. Preparing myself for whatever it's not you, it's us speech that is inevitably coming.

a/n: hey guys! hope you've enjoyed part 8 :) sorry that it ends on a bit of a cliffhanger, but it was getting quite long and I try to stick around 2.5k words to make it flow better i'm aiming to have part 9 out by the end of next week, but I won't make any promises just yet <3 - much love, lapetitelapin

#cod #cod fanfic #fanfic #ghoap x reader #simon “ghost” riley x reader #soap x reader #callofduty #cod x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x reader x soap #female reader #female oc #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny x reader x simon #simon riley x reader #double the love #romance #angst

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russellsppttemplates · 7 months

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What we have is worth fighting for (Lance Stroll)

Lance's lifestyle seems so different to your own that your mind has no other place to go other than doubt

Note: english is not my first language. Here's some Lance for you. And also a topic that whenever I have way too much time, I sometimes think about and I have yet to reach a proper conclusion. Do I like how this turned out? I'm not sure

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: reader has worries and negative thoughts that could be associated with anxiousness

"Do you have time to go to my place for a bit? I know you have an early morning tomorrow.", Lance pointed out despite wanting to enjoy your company for a little longer. Looking at your wristwatch, you debated it, figuring that, realistically, another night where you slept a little bit less was not going to make a difference considering you hadn't slept the recommended amount of hours since you were a teenager, "I have time", you smiled, allowing Lance to open the door on the passengers' side of his car so you could get in.

It was not the first time you had been in his car on your way to his place. From the beggining, you understood that while Lance had a very public job, he preferred to keep the other parts of his life on the private side, hence the fact that you had kept your dates as private as possible, in smaller places in town that you knew of and between your flat and his place. You sat in his big sofa after leaving your shoes at the door, making yourself as comfortable as you could while he went to the laundry room, mentioning something about a blanket he had spilled some tea on.

"The stain is cleaned, so, there you go", Lance announced, arriving with the soft material in his arm and giving it to you, "do you want some tea? I think I found the one we had at your place last week", he offered, accepting your nod, "yes, please", and heading for his kitchen.

Looking around, you couldn't help the curiosity that came over you as you looked at all the picture frames while laying the blanket on top of your legs. Some family holidays, you presumed, with Lance and his sister playing in snow in some pictures, but also some with a beautiful beach in the background. The pictures with a city background made it harder for you to guess where it was, some aspects allowing you to distinguish between probable different continents given the architectural design of the buildings, but still not enough to list all of them. "Don't look to close or you might start loosing interest", Lance startled you as he walked with two steaming mugs, setting them on the coasters on the coffee table in front of you.

Blushing for being caught, you thanked him and held the mug between your hands, taking a sip from it as you expected him to pick up on any subject we'd want to talk about. Lately, every day you had spent some time with Lance, it usually ended up in either of your places, just talking while having some form of snack or drinks. He was definitely not who you expected to click with, much less with how quick it happened. You felt yourself roll your eyes everytime you thought about it, but he was the picture you imagined whenever someone questioned you about the qualities in the partner you were looking for.

"I think it's time for me to go home", you admitted reluctantly, realising that if you didn't, you would suffer the consequences while you were attending lectures, "let me take you then", Lance smiled, patting his thighs and getting up while you folded the blanket. "No, no need, I can just call an Uber, I-", you were interrupted by Lance, "Nonsense, I suggested we come here, and I have the time, I'll do it", he noted, grabbing his car keys once he put his shoes on and leading the way.

"Hey, are you having a good day? I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time", Lance asked over the phone, the sound of the blinker allowing you to presume he was driving, "hello! I've had a full day, I'm leaving the library now - thank you, see you tomorrow -, sorry, I was just talking to the desk lady, but yes, it's been work heavy, but I got all of it done", you smiled and sighed, the tiredness overcoming your body as you walked down the stairs.

"That's good, Y/N, that's amazing!", he reinforced, "how would you feel about having something to eat together? I know you probably don't want to go anywhere, so how about I get us some take away and I meet you at your place?", he offered, making you feel warm and fuzzy inside. Given your busy schedule and how tired you got when it all piled up, it was not easy for some of your friends to understand that you preferred to stay in instead of going out.

"That's a nice plan. I'm going home now, so I'll meet you there? I just have to change out of these clothes so I look a little bit more presentable", you chuckled, "I'm sure you look the prettiest", he urged over the phone, "I'm going to call and make the order and then I'll let you know when I'm heading to your place", he finished, bidding goodbye to eachother as you walked home.

Walking inside your small flat, you thanked your past self for having taken care of cleaning it during the weekend, only having to put away some textbooks and some folders so the papers wouldn't be floating around the living room. It didn't take long before Lance texted you saying he already had the food with him and that he was making his way to your place.

You were setting the table when you heard the knock on the door, looking around and checking if anything else was misplaced before opening the door, "hey! Come in", you urged him, seeing Lance carrying two bags of food, "can you bring those to the table, please? I'll just leave my shoes and coat here", he smiled charmingly, doing so while you carried the bags to the table, wondering what he could've possibly bought that was so heavy.

"I'm here!", Lance approached you, kissing your cheek and showing you a small bunch of flowers, "the shop by the restaurant only had these left, they were just about to close and the lady made them look as pretty as possible", be smiled, handing you the nice smelling flowers, "Oh, I wasn't expecting these, thank you!", you smiled, kissing his cheek and he took the opportunity to squeeze you into a hug, "it's alright", he forwarded, "Shall we eat though? I'm quite hungry, and I bet you are too, so I got a little portion of a few things from this italian that is really really good. I went there with my sister when she and her husband visited and they loved it, too!", he said as he took the take out boxes from the paper bags.

Despite there being a lot of different starters and main dishes, they had been perfectly portioned so they would satisfy both of you and not leave any leftovers, "Oh, try this! It's incredible", you mentioned, swirling your fork so you could gather the pasta and forming a shell with your hand so the sauce wouldn't drip and you could give it to Lance, not even thinking about how the gesture would be perceived. Quickly, Lance ate the forkful and groaned, not seeming to have minded it, "it tastes amazing! But is is better than this one?", he quirked, doing the same wirh his fork and feeding you a ravioli, smiling when he noticed your puffed out cheeks blowing air so it wouldn't be as hot.

Like usual, conversation flowed easily and you had a great night, ending up sitting together on your sofa and had slowly inched closer to one another, "today really tired you out, hm? Do you want me to leave?", Lance said, noticing you were nearly falling asleep on his shoulder, "no, don't leave", you quickly replied, "but yes, I had a lot to get through", you noted, feeling his head turn to look at you, "what tasks did you so then? Is it that research project?", he curiously asked. Looking back up at him, you listed all the things you had done, "we got to the next phase already, so that's been good, but also more work. Then some spreadsheets where I almost lost my mind, but some video on YouTube explained it, so that was sorted", you said, "and that was it. I know it sounds like I didn't do much, but it did consume some energy", you blushed, "Why would you say that? You are in front of all these projects and making sure things are running smoothly. That's not an easy job, you should be proud of yourself, like I am", he tempted. It wasn't the first time he had said something like that, and he hoped you were starting to catch up on his intentions. It was hard to deny the attraction he felt for you, but also how you just clicked. Lance hadn't felt like that about someone in a really long time, where he thought that someone could be it in the long run. While he didn't want to come on too strong or feel like he was on a clock, he also wanted to make sure you knew where he stood when it came to you.

"You are?", you questioned, maybe a bit too strong for the average person's liking, but it was not a word you heard everyday, much less a feeling you knew people had for you. "Yes, I'm very proud of you. Of what you're doing and how you're doing it", Lance looked straight into your eyes, "I'm also growing very fond of you. I really like you, Y/N", he gazed between your lips and your eyes.

"I really like you too, Lance", you whispered, afraid to disturb if you spoke to loud you'd ruin the moment, pushing your face closer to his so you could show him that if he wanted to, you were all in as well.

The Canadian driver took this opportunity to cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb on your clean cheek before he pressed his lips to yours, lips moudling perfectly with one another. Smiling within the kiss, you wetr the first to break it off for air, looking up at him, "seems we're on the same page then".

You spent the rest of the night basking in eachothers affection, feeling brave enough to do so now that you both knew how the other felt and enjoying how it made you feel until Lance had to leave, "tomorrow has an early start for me, so I better get going", he groaned, getting up from the sofa and holding his hand out, making you attach your hand to his. Thinking he was just helping you up, you were surprised when he pushed you up with enough strength to face his, chest to chest so he could kiss your forehead, "C'mon, I want to help you tidy the kitchen before I leave", he smiled, guiding you both to the room in question so you could do so.

Lance had already left with a kiss of goodnight and a promise he would text you when he got gome, leaving you to close the apartment and also get ready for bed. Walking out of the kitchen, you noticed that you had left one of the paper bags on the floor, grabbing it so you could fold it for another time when you heard some wrinkling. Inside, the noise belonged to the receipt of the order, and you grabbed it mindlessly and a little curious. The food was great, you recognised, but the price Lance paid for a middle of the week take away was out of whatever you could have imagined. He insisted he wanted to pay for it all, despite you saying that you should at least pay your half, and now you couldn't help but think how normal and fine it had been for him to just swipe his card and pay for it. Probably like the no big deal that it was for him.

Lance was away for a race weekend, and despite the busy schedule, he still found time to videocall you, always looking forward to hearing how your day went and what you had been up to, "we just started on the data collection, and it's going really well. It's not some groundbreaking thing right now, but it's going somewhere, I can feel it", you smiled, "and you? The car seemed good today", you asked him, seeing his smile that went immediately to your stomach, butterflies erupting into a dance.

"Yes, it was incredible! It finally feels like we have a car that can takes us to the podium of the championship, you know? It's a pleasure to drive and the track is awesome!", he beamed, "I just wish you were here with me to experience it all, the city's really cool too", he offered, listing a few activities he had done and places he had seen.

There was another thing that got your mind spinning. As much as you didn't like to admit it, those thoughts had been plaguing your mind for a few days now. If there was some scale to assess it, you're Lance's lifestyle and your own would be pretty far from eachothers. He spent the better part of his year travelling around the world, staying in the most luxurious hotels and enjoying the most incredible experiences. On your end, you were lucky if you got enough time to take some time off and away from all the work. If this was to go further, your schedule and your lifestyle wouldn't allow you to be the partner that travels to nearly all the races or the one that is seen strutting around the paddock in the most lavish outfits. Would that be an obstacle in the relationship you were building with Lance? Should you start backing out now?

"Hey, Y/N?", he called, "is everything okay? I think I lost you there for a bit", he smiled, teasing you even though there was also a slight concern, "are you too tired? I probably shouldn't have called so late, right?", he forwarded. Despite not wanting him to feel guilty about it, you took the opportunity since your mind wasn't settling, "don't feel guilty, Lance. I haven't been sleeping well these past few nights and it's catching up on me", you half lied, "but I think I might have an early night today, see if sleep comes around", you smiled genuinely at the screen as you saw his features soften, "alright, sweetheart. Have a good sleep", he softly said, blowing you a kiss while you did the same, dialing off the call and pressing the phone to your chest.

Would this feeling on your chest ever settle down? Would your mind stop racing about thoughts about why you'd never fit in Lance's life? The worry grew even bigger, considering you were probably not going to fall asleep for a while.

Sitting at Lance's dining table after spending the entire afternoon with him, you tried your best to mask the thoughts that had been plaguing you and that you hadn't managed to shut off. But apparently, not with enough skill, "there's something worrying you, I can tell that much", he noted, "is it something I can help you with? Also totally okay if you don't want to talk about it, but I don't like seeing you so stressed", he launched his hand so it would land on top of yours, softly caressing the skin.

"Can I be really honest with you about what has been bothering me?", you asked, already knowing this would be an important conversation and no matter where it ended up going, it needed to happen sooner rather than later, "sure, Y/N, absolutely", he assured, growing a little bit more concerned at your tone.

"I don't fit in this, Lance", you began, gesturing your hands around, "your world is so different than mine in so many ways, I could never fit in it", you gulped, "you were just saying earlier this afternoon that maybe it was time for us to take the next step, and I don't know if I can", you stopped to gather your thoughts.

"It's okay if you're not ready, I'll wait. And I didn't want to pressure you, I'm sorry if it felt like that", Lance was quick to say, an expression of guilt somehow in his features.

"No, it's not because I don't have feelings for you, because they're here, they're very much here!", you chuckled nervously, "I just don't think I fit in your life like it was supposed to be, like it's expected", you mumbled the last part, forcing yourself to look at him. It pained you as well, because the look on his face was also painful. He wasn't expecting you to feel like this, so much so that there was little to ask but "did I do something to make you feel like that?", still not sure if it was what he wanted to ask.

"No, it's just that our worlds are different. You paid the equivalent of my university monthly tuition for a dinner that was lovely, but still! That's how different we are, we don't align", you gestured, "I could never be the partner you need. My schedule could never be the same if you wanted me to be at races, because I can't be travelling here and there every weekend. And I'm not someone who attends galas and fancy dinners", you hiccuped, the pressure on your throat building up. Even though you had this perspective, it didn't mean that your feelings were on the same page as it.

"And don't take this the wrong way. I have loved every moment we've spent together, and everything you've done for me. And I'm not blaminh you. Your parents did everything they could for your best, and that's not a bad thing. Don't think I'm pointing fingers because I'm not, it's a privilege you have and it is no one's business, much less my business either. But I don't have it", you let out a shuddered breath.

Lance was at a loss for words, gathering his thoughts before he said something that might come out the wrong way, "and is that something that is a deal breaker?", he asked, "Isn't it? I'm not the person people like you go after. Take a look at everyone on the paddock. All the wives and girlfriends are the opposite of me. Anyone you're supposed to be seen with, to have some sort of a relationship with, they're not me, they're not what you think whenever you imagine someone who relates to you in some way", you gulped again, the tears now clouding you eyes.

"You see, Y/N, it's because of those things that I know we have something good. I don't give a care about what other people think who I should have a relationship with. I never wanted someone according to whatever standard, much less after I met you", he smiled, "you are a breath of fresh air in my life, and I needed that so blady. You showed me that there's so much more to love. You have listened to me, you've been there for the highs and the lows, you've allowed me inside your life and showed me the force of nature that you are", he tempted your hand, lacing his fingers with yours, "yes, all of those scenarios are frequent in my life, and I understand that I'm not around as much as other partners, but it will be my biggest mistake if I let you go without a fight, without showing you that what we have is too good to go", he urged you to look at him, lowering his head so he could catch your eyes and bring your eyelines up a little.

"You know, I texted you during the breaks between free practices and my mother commented that she finally found out why I was so happy, all because I was smiling at the picture you sent me from the library", he smiled, blush covering his cheeks, "and, while we are on this, I'm not going to pretend that I don't have the money, because I have. And I don't pay for things to show it off, I do it because I can and it allows me to show people that I care about them", he explained, "if I ever made you feel uncomfortable because of it, it wasn't intentional. I don't need big plans to feel good with you. I'm happy just sitting next to you on the sofa while we watch some TV or while you read some books", he shrugged, "I'm not even a fan of those big events myself, so I wouldn't want you to be one.

"All I know is that I think we're good together, and I want this to work so bad. I want to be with you if you'll allow me", he squeezed your hand, "or, at least, allow me to show you that what we have is good and that it is worth fighting for", he finished.

You felt somewhat guilty for how you felt about it, even though you also knew you weren't being unreasonable, "I'm sorry, but it was eating me away and, yeah, I didn't know how to go about it", you gestured between your bodies, seeing Lance open his arms so you could sit in his lap, "it's okay, I'm glad we talked about it and everything is clarified. We can always talk about these things, I'm very happy that we did. Even though I'm a little saddened that you think so low of yourself, Y/N", he flicked your hair behind your ear, "you're so amazing, you don't even know it. Your passion about your work, the way you love other people, the way you care about them. All of your concerns that you're not like the others? It's what makes me love you even more, what makes me want this, us, to be it", he smiled, kissing your nose when he saw your smile, moving to kiss your lips multiple times, "now, I've admitted verbally that I love you two times, and I'm yet to know how this goes", he teased.

Smiling again, you craddled Lance's face in your hands, "In case I wasn't clear, I love you too", you giggled, "Good. That's good. I will make it my mission to make sure you know it everyday, but until then, I will enjoy having my girlfriend in my arms", he mumbled, pulling you closer to him, "it's a good thing we are both homebodies then".

#lance stroll imagine #lance stroll × reader #lance stroll fanfic #lance stroll fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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l00rem · 3 months

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Imo, this is the most telling/concerning line of the explorers

As we’ve seen, the environment of Explorers is incredibly toxic. 3/4 of the other admins have each insulted or taken shots at Amethio somehow. And it looks like this is nothing new, it’s horrible how Conia’s reaction to him being in a room alone with them is ‘oh god i hope he’s okay’. Amethio is a minor, he’s in a room full of people who seem to all be much older than him and ,in complete contrast to Liko’s situation, they all belittle him and insult him for every little mistake. It’s really upsetting how the only two people who have any sort of concern for him are his underlings- but Conia and Zir are absolutely powerless to really do anything about this. As much as they care about him, I don’t think Amethio would even be able to allow himself to be proper vulnerable around them. He’s already having to constantly prove himself, so how could he do something as unprofessional as spilling his worries to his underlings? It seems the only one he’s comfortable being open with is Ceruledge, but once again there is very little it can do to help him.

Then there’s Hamber. I’ve seen a few people give him the benefit of the doubt, especially because of episode 34 where it looks like he’s taken a shine to Amethio. But don’t let his fake concern fool you.

All i see here is basic professionalism, like he’s reading what he has to say off a script. He doesn’t actually mean what he’s saying: we’ve seen how high the Explorers expectations are, I mean just look at how much Amethio is overexerting himself in the second op, surprise surprise Hamber is sitting back and merely watching despite his earlier comment of not straining yourself. Not to mention, the moment things start going well for Amethio, Hamber immediately undermines his agency by going with Sango and Onyx to sort things out personally. Like no wonder Amethio seems to be triggered by not being taken seriously when this is how his (employers? guardians? idk) treat him!

He’s also got soooo many red flags! The biggest being when Sango half-heartedly refuses orders, to which he responds:

Literally physically intimidating her! And her reaction raises even more red flags, despite her happy demeanour the way she instantly complies is very telling that this isn’t the first time Hamber’s resorted to such threats… and this is the same environment a 16ish old is being raised in!

Maybe it’s just the amount of pressure he was putting on himself, but look how stressed and low-key terrified Amethio looks when fighting Hamber!!

And even if we want to make the case that maybe Amethio is this special exception for Hamber and that he’s got a soft spot for him… he is ultimately still complicit in grooming Amethio into this shady organisation. Episode 34 even reveals that Hamber was the one who trained Amethio, which also fuels the idea that he might have been some random child they find and realised how easily they could manipulate him into becoming the perfect loyal admin. Well i personally subscribe to the Amethio is an orphan theory rather than Gibeons son, especially considering that comment about Gibeon ‘awakening’, Idk if Gibeon is even properly alive.

Btw if you’re interested in further exploration in what I’ve discussed in this post allow me to shamelessly plug my fic that finished recently. It delves into the shadiness of Explorers and how really fucked up Amethio’s situation is! https://archiveofourown.org/works/52757629

It’s kinda weird how we’ve gone from ‘haha look at team Rocket blast off again aren’t they so wacky?’ to literal child grooming. I’m all for the serious themes tho.

Tldr: Hamber deserves to be pushed down a flight of stairs, Amethio needs so much therapy.

#pokemon horizons #amethio #anipoke #pokemon hamber #pokemon explorers #pokemon conia #Now if only Horizons would give us more than 5 mins of amethio everytime he’s on screen #Manifesting an episode that focuses on him for the entire runtime #Pls don’t make me wait 15 weeks to see him again #tw child grooming mentioned

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bibibbon · 4 months

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MHA and dumbing down all might

Yes, you heard this right I wholeheartedly believe that horikoshi has been dumbing down all might because some of the stuff that happens really makes no sense.

The canon MHA stats that are made by horikoshi himself state that all might is actually quite intelligent yet we never see it in the series. If all might was very intelligent then wouldn't he :

Train Izuku in basic hand to hand combat? I mean he literally gave izuku A whole diet plan and gym routine so he can build up muscle because he realised that it would be DANGEROUS to give izuku OFA at his current state so wouldn't he also train Izuku in hand to hand so izuku can use OFA in closer range? Like are we talking about the same all might who planned how Izuku's life will go for the past 10 months by a whole schedule couldn't be offer izuku combat training?!?!

Fully explain to him the concequences of OFA? I don't mean anything about AFO but the quirk OFA itself. Even though they were both in a rush you could of had all might warn izuku not to use the quirk until the last moment because he was still weak as a user and needed more time to grasp OFA but he just ends up giving izuku horrible advice which just makes all might look dumb.

Realises how bad of a person bakugo is, plans to then help him and then NOTHING?. This can be easily explained by horikoshi and his absolute love for bakugo but all might actually realises that one of his students needs help and he planned to give bakugo counselling that's more then any other teacher has done but afterwards he also becomes blinded by bakugos "greatness BS"

Realises how much of an escalated battle between izuku and Katsuki but doesn't stop it? This one is 50/50 for me while all might didn't have any audio from both of them he saw how badly that battle escalated and it also escalated so badly to the point you had students like kirishima saying that bakugo was going to murder izuku at this rate. Iam actually fine having this one because maybe all might never understood how bad their relationship was so he allowed this to go on but we could of had an apology scene afterwards where all might could of apologised for not stopping it sooner and have some teachers give him constructive criticism on his teaching.

Actually keeps in mind that his successor is a child and understands that OFA is a big secret for a child to have or keep but then kind of leaves izuku alone with no proper support system? Look I get it. Telling every single living being about OFA is very very dangerous but the only people that do know about it do NOTHING to help or support izuku and with something like OFA Izuku definitely needs support so you could of had at least a bit of the teachers know vague details of the quirk (they don't have to know about how it can be transferred and passed down) but know that Izuku got it late. I get the reason why all might is so strict about telling NO ONE but it doesn't help Izuku. ALSO PROPS ON ALL MIGHT FOR ACKNOWLEDGING THAT IZUKU IS JUST A KID!!!!!

Withholding help from izuku (but not really??) ???. Idk how to word this but let's be honest it's not a good look on all might when you have Izuku learning more from GRAN TORINO AND ENDEAVOUR?!?! When it comes to OFA all might is just there a lot of the time ( he doesn't really do much) and yes you can blame this on the narrative because we don't get that many scenes of them and their relationship in their first place but the point stands it's not a good look on you when you're successor is learning more from people who aren't OFA user's. I know all might was probably afraid of gran Torino and that's why he didn't contact him but like almost withholding and putting off help for izuku isn't a good look especially when we see all might do nothing about izuku breaking his bones.

Forgetting to tell izuku about AFO?? At the beginning of the conversation after the stain arc it's stated that all might forgot tell izuku about the origins of the quirk which rubs me off the wrong way. I think the whole AFO reveal and it's involvement with OFA could of have been a great plot point that would make us see Izuku's feelings and maybe create some tension in AM and izu's relationship which can be sorted out because Izuku just accepting that he is gonna have to FIGHT a full on villain that has killed multiple people with no complaints rubs me off the wrong way

All might is scared of gran Torino because of how hard he was "trained" by him but then brutally beats izuku and bakugo around??? I don't know but the whole final exam fight seemed so out of character of all might especially with how hard he was going at Izuku like recovery girl herself stated that he would of damaged Izuku's lower back a whole lot more if he added more aggression and this makes no sense to me. You're telling me the guy who was beaten around by Torino until he vomited and was on the verge of passing out would do that to his own successor and another students

There are definitely more examples of this happening that I didn't include but the point is the plot and narrative tend to heavily dumb down all might which is sad.

Someone can be a GOOD MENTOR but a BAD TEACHER ( especially if it's with a group of overpowered teenagers) however, the plot doesn't do all might justice.

#mha critical #bnha critical #hori is a bad writer #horikoshi critical #izuku deserves better #all might #all might deserves better

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watatsumiis · 1 year

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Being Comforted After a Nightmare (part 1)

Content: Gender neutral reader waking up from a nightmare and being comforted. Sharing the bed, general physical affection and snuggling is mentioned in some, but nothing inherently romantic or explicit in nature. Childe’s has a hint of angst. Oops.

Characters: Ayato, Capitano, Childe, Gorou, Itto, Kaveh.

Word count: 1.8k

Ayato has a bit of a soft spot for you, that much is known by almost all the staff of the estate. He doesn’t sleep as often or as much as he should, so chances are you’ll find him in his study, working hard as usual. On the odd occasion he is sleeping, he may be a little grouchy at being woken up (and it can take some prompting to get him to even open his eyes, since he’s spoiled rotten and used to being woken up with a fancy cup of tea and a snack by Thoma). Either way, he softens right up upon realising it’s you disturbing him. You can just see that coldness in his eyes melt away as he tilts his head to the side and furrows his brows ever so slightly. He’ll lightly chide you, asking what you’re doing up at such a time, but the moment you open up and let him know what’s happened, he drops all pretence and moves right on to comforting you, beckoning you close and wrapping one lanky arm around you, rubbing your upper arm as he soothes you.

Ayato will just hold and shush you for as long as it takes for your shaking to cease and your breathing to even out. If appropriate, he’ll tug you into his lap, pressing his nose into the side of your head as he holds you close and reassures you that everything is going to be okay. Once you’ve calmed down, there’s a pretty decent chance that he’ll offer to have one of his retainers bring you up a snack or a calming cup of herbal tea full of things like chamomile and lavender to help you sleep. He’s more than happy for you to keep him company or share the bed with him if that’s what you so desire.

Capitano is often awake at odd hours of the night, though the route he ‘patrols’ is predictable enough. He isn’t exactly quiet, so it’s a fairly simple task to find him. If he’s in a place he considers to be safe, he sleeps like a log and it takes a lot to wake him up, but anywhere else he’s wide awake the moment you walk into the room. Sometimes it’s hard to tell if he’s awake or asleep, since he even sleeps with his helmet on, so if you seem unsure, he’ll tilt his head to the side and crook one gloved finger at you to signal that you’re allowed to come closer.

While he doesn’t have much to offer in the way of words, his actions are more than comforting enough, he seems to know the perfect way to wrap his big, burly arms around you to make you calm right down. His plate armour is always cool to the touch, and can really help bring you back to reality if you need something to ground you and pull you back to yourself. He’s surprisingly gentle, always being so patient and kind with you, even if you’ve been sitting with him for a long time, or if he had other plans to get around to.

If you don’t want to talk about it, Capitano won’t force you to, but if you do, he’ll just listen quietly, occasionally humming or dipping his head to show you that he’s still listening and taking it all in. Sometimes he might happen to have some useful anecdote or advice, but even if not, he’s a very calming person to vent to, and he doesn’t mind sharing a bed if you need company while you go back to sleep, but he’s always gone by the morning.

Childe seems like a deep sleeper, and mostly is, but it’s like he has a sixth sense for when you’re feeling off, so he’ll snap awake immediately, fixing his cold blue gaze on you as he asks what’s wrong, tensing up and reaching for the knife he keeps under his pillow as he subconsciously prepares himself for a fight.

It just about breaks his heart when he realises the time and recognises that look on your face that symbolises how upset you are, and he puts the pieces together. He’s had his own fair share of nightmares, and it physically pains him to know that you’re suffering too, and it’s not something that he can fight off for you. He tries not to let his easy going, ‘I can conquer the world’ facade drop, but you can feel him shaking ever so slightly as he pulls you close, clinging to you like a barnacle as he puffs out something about tracking down and beating up whichever archon is responsible for dreams. He’s so touchy, it’s almost like he’s the one who had the nightmare, the way he doesn’t want to let you go. He’ll happily listen to you talk about what happened, comforting you all the while, nattering about how if he were there, he would’ve beaten up whatever it was you were dreaming about that freaked you out (even if it’s something physically impossible to beat up).

Childe’s stubborn attitude and insistence on kicking the ass of anything and everything that hurts you will often brighten your mood, and his clinginess and the pressure of him practically sitting on you can really help bring you back to reality.

Gorou is very good at telling when others are feeling unwell. It’s like it affects him too, and more often than not, he’s already on his way to your bedside by the time you’ve been stirred into full wakefulness. He’s a little bashful about this uncanny ability of his, his tail curling up as he tells you that he just had a gut feeling that he should come check on you, and that he’s glad he did. He’s extraordinarily good at listening and will wrap an arm around you as you talk about what happened. He has a knack for being able to reframe negatives into positives, or spinning something around so it’s significantly less scary for you. He may ramble somewhat, repeat himself, or talk in circles, but it still helps.

If you don’t feel like talking about it, he’ll still reassure you and sit nearby if you seem like you need some company. This is one of the rare opportunities where he might allow you to pat his ears and tail if you ask softly and sweetly enough. He’s like a therapy dog, the way he leans into your touch and offers to rest his head on your chest, lap, or stomach so that the weight will help to soothe you as you pat his fluffy fur. Though he’s the one who woke up to come find you, it doesn’t take long for him to submit to his own remnant sleepiness, so you may find yourself unwittingly sharing your bed with a very sleepy general. It’s okay though, he doesn’t take up much space, and he’s very polite.

Itto sleeps like a log. He could sleep through anything and everything, it’s a chore in and of itself to get him awake, and even then he’s half-delirious and a complete and utter mess. The way his hair sticks up all over the place is almost enough to cheer you up simply because of how ridiculous it looks. It may take him a little while to pull himself to full wakefulness, but luckily his default state is one of being entirely open to cuddles, so if you walk over towards him, he’ll pull you into his arms and squish you close to his chest (possibly murmuring something ridiculous to do with whatever dream he was having before you woke him up). He’ll rest his chin on you as he blinks blearily and absently fidgets with your hands in his.

Just his presence can be really comforting, but once Itto is fully awake and aware of the situation, he’ll do anything to help perk you back up (though not without bragging about how you came to him because he’s so fearless and not scared of anything). He’ll check under the bed and in the closet for monsters (even if you didn’t ask), let you play with his hair (“Come on, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity to run your fingers through this luscious mane, I use all the best products! I know because I spent lots of mora on them, so they’ve gotta be good!”), or just sit with him and cling to him like he’s a giant teddy bear (which he is). If you want him to keep you company for the night, he’s more than happy to share his bed, but be warned, he snores like a mitachurl and starfishes across the middle of the bed, and may just plonk one of his big beefy arms over you and make it nearly impossible to escape.

Kaveh can look like a little bit of a nightmare himself when he’s just woken up. He has an awful resting bitch face when he’s still pulling himself out of his sleepy state, and his hair looks just about mangled if he didn’t tie it back before he went to sleep. He doesn’t tend to get much sleep in the first place, but he’s amicable when he realises it’s not his dreadful roommate who is disturbing him because he left paper stuck to the front window (again) and it’s just you approaching him for reassurance. He swings into comfort mode immediately, comforting and crooning over you. Sometimes it seems like he’s not paying much mind to your preferences in your day-to-day life, but it’s moments like these when his careful attention to detail truly shines through. He seems to know exactly what to say and do to make you feel safe and comforted, and will hug you so sweetly and gently that you can’t help but cheer up.

Though he’s not entirely familiar with the concept of dreams and nightmares (and feels a strange semblance of bitterness at how you naturally experience something he missed out on for so long), he’s still a brilliant companion to have at your side. He’ll utterly spoil you, bringing you anything and everything you could possibly want, and then some. Stuffed animals, snacks, fancy drinks, you name it, he’ll have it to you as soon as humanly possible. He may not be a great listener, but all he wants is to make you feel better, and that’s what counts.

Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagarise my writing! This includes posting translations to other sites.

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emeritus-fuckers · 3 months

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Can you make headcanons with Papa or any papa of your choice comforting afab!reader? My period suddenly happened when I was away from home and I bled through all of my clothes and on my winter coat and I want to cry from pain and because of my ruined clothes

Papas supporting their afab!s/o on their period

CW: mentions of weed in young nihil's.

Primo

Very calm with the whole thing, this is nothing new to him he's had to support people before so he is really good in how he deals with it.

He makes you feel just as calm and helps you not to feel embarassed, nothing to be embarased about.

He goes to your room and gets clean clothes for you to put on.

He makes a calming pot of tea bringin git to you and pouring you both a mug.

"Don't worry about the clothes, I know you loved them but we can clean them, if not I know some really nice shops. The main thing is you are okay" He wraps his arms around you and kisses you.

"You look beautiful amore, no matter what you wear you are more beautiful to me than the sunrise" He smiles at you and kisses you.

You kiss him back and snuggle in his arms. You start to realise you are no longer in pain and look back at the tea. Primos little smile lets you know that yes he has learnt to brew a tea that helps with period pains.

Secondo

Somehow, as usual, he seems to know more about you and your potential issues than you do.

The moment you mention your period, he's giving you a warm shower (showers with you if you ask, of course) and then puts you in bed in the most comfortable clothing you own.

If you deem his clothes as more comfortable, he will make you wear his clothes.

Don't even thing about worrying about getting anything bloody. That can be washed out or he can simply buy you new things.

You're being kept in warmth with chocolate, painkillers and water on the night table waiting.

You want anything at all? You got it, no questions asked.

You are getting spoiled as much as possible.

This man does not let you do anything You're going through Hell right now, you are allowed only to rest.

And if you need to have your brain fucked out so you can't think of the pain, his blood kink will be happy to deliver.

Terzo

They know all too well when your cycle is starting…because they came to the realization your cycles had synced.

You aren’t quite sure how he knew to leave out the supplies, painkillers and chocolate until he walked in with the same predicament of being coated in blood.

“I see we both got caught by surprise amore…come.”

He draws the both of you a bath, already ordering takeout for you both according to cravings. (Why does he have ghouls if they aren’t meant to get them their nuggets?)

Leaves gentle kisses all over your face and shoulders as you both get cleaned up.

Comfy clothes are left waiting for you both on the bed, Ifrit under the blankets to serve as a living heating pad for you both. (Again; why do they have ghouls if they aren’t heating pads?)

They are definitely not concerned about blood getting on anything when you both are suffering.

Terzo might not feel well himself, but they’ll spoil you rotten as you suffer this monthly curse together.

Copia

He hears how distressed you are on the phone and drops everything immediatly. He hates hearing you like this and it scares him but he knows he can also help.

He tells you stay where you are and takes the car to come and get you. Just him on his own no Ghoul to drive him this time.

He helps you in and wraps a blanket around you and hands you a hot water bottle for the pain. "Don't worry amore" He says with a calm smile "These things happen cara".

When you get back to his rooms he lends you his most comofrtable t-shirt and traksuit bottoms and sorts out the dirty ones sending them to be cleaned. No one will know they are your clothes and the ministry cleaners are very good at getting blood out of clothes.

His clothes are so comforting they smell of him and you curl up on the sofa.

He gets you anything he can to help with the pain and then sits with you on the sofa. "Video games or watch a film?" He asks with a soft kiss to your lips.

He also brings you the nicest hot chocolate or something else depending on what you are craving.

Old Nihil

He's very sad to see you in pain, but also somewhat clueless on what to do.

Gets you a nurse so you can have all the care you need.

He's gonna stay in bed with you for as long as you need him to.

He does not care about the state of his robes, if they get all bloody, so be it. Cuddling you is more important.

He makes sure you know that the bloody clothing doesn't matter, it's just clothing.

Spends a day in bed with you, watching movies and cuddling.

Well... you watch a movie. He watches you, just being happy if you feel better. As long as you're comfortable, everything is okay.

You two share a bunch of sweets together and drink a lot of tea (which results in him having to go to the bathroom about as often as you do when changing pads/tampons).

Yes, he waits outside the bathroom like a lost puppy.

He's gonna be with you the entire time you need him to be.

And let's be honest, his arms are very comfortable.

Young Nihil

Gets you a shit ton of sweets. Chocolate, candy, sweet drinks, pudding, jelly... anything.

Also, drugs. Be it painkillers or just good old weed that you may need.

Cuddles and sex. That's what you do most of the time, honestly.

Movies and snacks, too.

He probably has a Sibling of Sin get you some period products because let's be real, he'd totally get something completely unrelated. Or buy out the entire store.

Or somehow come back with a new pet, which can vary from a kitten to a llama to a fucking dinosaur (somehow), so it's best not to send him shopping alone.

Besides, he's much more comfortable to lay on.

And all the treats he brings are nice, too.

And of course, the Seven Inches of Satanic Panic don't need much stimulation to get hard.

Papas I and IV written by Nyx.

Papa II and Papa Nihil written by Nosferatu.

Papa III written by Death.

Taglist: @charlie-is-a-menace @copias-fluffy-asscheeks @randodummy @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @calliedion-dungeon @randominstake @callmeicaro @thecuriouss @nuntia @dio-niisio @firefirevampire @mybotanicaldemise @emo-mess @natoncesaid @sirlsplayland @thatoddboy @ouijaboardemo @lightbluuestars @strawberriiblossoms @z-xmyers @igodownjustlikeholymary @dark-angel-is-back @choco-meow69

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obessedwithfictionalmen · 1 month

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You have to live

Curt Biddick X Female! Reader

Summary: Curt survies his crash, but he's in a bad shape...

Warning: Mention of injuries/ swearing/ Google translated german/ dead brother/

A/n: Based on a request, hope you like it :)

He was dragging his body on the ground; he was hurt from the crash he just lived. He didn’t know how he survived this, but he was grateful that he did. He saw smoke coming from what he thought was a chimney, he had to go there, maybe they’ll help him. Curt had no other choice.

Y/n was outside, taking care of the garden when she was a man collapsing on the ground, she rushed to help him, she lived alone, since her brother died in combat, she was alone. When she came near the men, she realised that he was a pilot. ‘’American’’ he mumbled. Y/n helped him up and allowed him to put his weight on her. ‘’Thank you, I’m Curt’’ he mumbled. ‘’Stop talking, save your energy’’ she said with a French accent. She was from France, at least her mother was, and she taught her French since she was young. Her dad was German, that’s why she was close to Regensburg, where Curt’s mission was.

Curt sat down in the kitchen as he watched the woman run around the house to get medical stuff. When she got in front of him, she seemed overwhelmed, he had so many injuries, she wondered how he was still alive. ‘’Can you take your equipment off? I need to see how bad your injuries are’’ she asked. He nodded and began to take his equipment off, but he was struggling, she helped him. ‘’I never caught your name’’ he said, weakly. ‘’Y/n’’ she simply replied. She analyzed the man and decided to start with his legs, he had burns on his right leg and some glass in his left leg. ‘’I��m going to take the glass pieces out, it might hurt, but talk to me, about anything. I need you to stay conscious, I’ll give you something for the pain, ok?’’ she asked him. She shot him in the leg with morphine, he was lucky, her mother was a nurse and she had medical stuff in the house. More than a normal person would own. ‘’Okay, well like I said, I’m Lieutenant Curtis Biddick, I’m with the 100th bomb group’’ as he continued to talk about himself, Y/n got to work, piece by piece she removed them form his leg, she was careful, she didn’t want to hurt him.

After 25 minutes, she was done healing his legs, she had blood on her hands, but it wasn’t too much. ‘’Can you take your shirt off, I need to take a look’’ she stuttered. He smiled before taking his shirt off, he had small burns. She put an ointment on his burns, it was homemade, but it worked. ‘’What about you, Y/n, are you married?’’ Curt asked, curious about the woman. He didn’t saw a ring on her finger, but maybe he was too injured to notice it. ‘’Nope I’m not married, Lieutenant’’ she simply replied. ‘’You can call me Curt, you know, ranks don’t apply here’’ he chuckled, but moaned in pain at the contact of the ointment. ‘’You’re really lucky to be alive, you know that?’’ Y/n states, making Curt nod.

They didn’t know how much time went by, but Y/n had finally healed each of Curt’s injuries. Right now, he was sleeping in her bed, he needed to rest, and Y/n needed to clean all the blood he left in her kitchen. But a knock at the door made her jump, she made sure his uniform was hidden, she gave him her brother’s cloths. When she opened the door, her heart sank, German’s officer. ‘’Hallo Madam, können wir reinkommen? ‘‘he said. He asked her if they could come in the house. She was terrified, if they found Curt, they would kill him, and her. She tried to look as calm as possible. ‘’Of course, my husband is sleeping, be quiet’’ she replied in German. Shit, she didn’t have ring. Officers looked around the house, she hid the uniform in the garden before they arrived, they never looked outside. ‘’Why don’t you have a ring?’’ one of them asked. ‘’We’re too poor, I inherited this house and I sell my cow’s milk to have money. My husband works at a factory, he’s deaf, so he can’t join the military’’ she lied. She was nervous, her hearth was pounding. The Germans nodded and closed the bedroom’s door. ‘’There was a crash, if you see American soldiers, alert us right away’’ he ordered as they left her house. When they finally left, she sighed, they were so close of getting caught.

Curt woke up 30 minutes later. He was woken up by the smell of something. It smelled good. When he exited the room, he found Y/n cooking. ‘’Hello, dinner’s almost ready, sit down’’ she smiled. ‘’Did someone come here while I was sleeping, I thought I heard people talk?’’ he asked as he sat down. Y/n nodded and took a deep breath. ‘’Yes, German soldiers, looking for American survivors, I told them you were my husband, and that you were deaf, so that’s why you weren’t in the military, they believed me and left’’ she explains as she serves him dinner. His mouth opened in shock. ‘’I’m so sorry, that must’ve been so scary!’’ he apologized. ‘’It’s okay, you needed to sleep’’ she smiles. ‘’You know, Curt, you can stay here until you’re fully healed’’ she offers. ‘’I would like that, thank you very much for your hospitality, Y/n, you’re an angel’’ he says, looking at her. She blushed and took a bite out of the chicken she cooked. ‘’It’s normal, everyone would’ve done that’’ she huffs shyly. She was nervous, but it was a good nervous. Curt was really attractive, and the fact that he complimented her, made Y/n blush. ‘’Not everyone can lie to German officers, you literally risked your life. I owe you one’’ he says. She smiled as she bites her bottom lips. ‘’But you’ll have to be my fake husband for the time of your stay. If they come back, we’ll have to act like we’re married.’’ She stutters. ‘’Not a problem’’ he quickly replies. He was truly grateful for her. Without her, he would be dead. But he was looking forward to this stay, she was an amazing woman and he couldn’t wait to get to know her better.

#curt biddick x reader #curt biddick #curtis biddick #master of the air #master of the air imagine

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