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#(but i feel like this was an important moment for them to move forward)
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Victoria gives me absurd powerbottom vibes tbh… making you kneel before her and lick at her pretty cunt before she decides when she’s done 😁😁
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abso-fuckin-lutely
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it's her favourite, really. her favourite spare time activity, her stress reliever — and she's got a lot of that. who needs coffee when you're here to make sure she has the best morning possible? so eager, too.
she once made you eat her out during dinner, and the taste of sautéed eggplant on her tongue mixed with the feeling of yours between her legs was absolutely delectable (you made her spill her wine on the brand new white tablecloth and got dicked down for it right on the table, too).
so, safe to say she gets slightly greedy about it.
thing is, she doesn’t like it when your mouth and her pussy part. it’s a union that, in her eyes, should be unbreakable. so no sticking your tongue out to flick at her clit, no irregular flat licks you try to sneak a teasing word in between. none of that. she needs you to commit to it, to devour her.
she wants to feel all of it — lips, teeth, tongue, so you better work it till your jaw is so sore you can’t even thank her properly when her slick gushes down your chin.
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“that’s it, sweet thing. just like that,” victoria murmurs as she watches you wrap your mouth around her cunt.
“s’pretty, vic,” you murmur, voice hoarse. “such a pretty pussy. you’re so—“
she doesn’t let you finish. a high-heeled foot pushes at the back of your head, guiding you right where she wants you.
"shh. less talking, more licking," comes the command she's so used to giving, her voice as sharp as the heel digging into your spine. "i didn't bring you here to blab. work it.”
you start slow, just as she likes it, your tongue tracing the length of her, from her entrance to her clit. you feel her shiver, her breath hitching slightly. encouraged, you continue, applying more pressure, more urgency.
"fuck," she breathes, her eyes fluttering closed as she lets out a soft moan. "pull away again and i'm tying you down and riding your face till you choke. don't fucking test me."
a very, very tempting punishment — but you don't exactly plan on disobeying.
you can't. not when she tastes so good, not when she feels so right.
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working under her for the fbsa is a whole new experience — completely and utterly unproductive for instance.
it’s also the reason victoria opts for pencil skirts instead of her beloved pantsuits these days.
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the only sounds interrupting the silence in her office are the gentle taps of her fingers against the screen and the wet softness of your plush mouth working for your ‘employee of the month’ title.
“hm,” victoria frowns at the numbers on her tablet, lifting it closer to her face. “now this can’t be right.”
she leans forward in her chair to get a better look, her free hand sliding under her desk, fingers wrapping in your hair to tug you off her – a string of saliva and juices connects your bottom lip to her leaking cunt. she doesn’t bother to admire the view — she has much more important matters to attend to.
you watch her brown eyes flicker through the report, a frown on her burgundy lips – something you'll have to work harder to get rid of. her hand still in your hair, manicured nails scratching at your scalp softly, victoria rechecks the numbers once more before scoffing.
“of course. i knew i couldn’t trust them with the percentage counting. honestly—“
her hand pushes at the back of your head firmly, and you hungrily slurp at the juices that have trickled between her puffy folds in the few moments you were separated from her warmth.
“—does anybody in this building know how to do their fucking job?”
you make a sound that sounds painfully reminiscent of a broken whimper, and victoria huffs out a laugh through her nostrils. brushes her hand up your scalp to move some stray strands from your face.
"no-no. it’s never you," she says, her voice a gentle purr as she strokes your hair. "you're doing just fine. it's everyone else who's the problem."
she leans back in her chair, her eyes never leaving the tablet as she continues to scroll through the numbers.
"i swear, if i have to redo the whole thing myself," she mutters, her voice laced with frustration. "it's like they're all just waiting for me to bail them out."
she looks down at you, smiling softly, "but you're not like that, are you?" she asks, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "you're my good girl. my little problem-solver."
you moan in response, the vibrations sending a shiver through her. she bites her lip, her grip on your hair tightening.
"gonna make my day so much better, aren't you?"
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victoria is very much aware the degree of your obedience varies from day to day, so you bet your pretty ass she's investing in a collar. no pet play— vicky isn’t into that, so don’t expect her name and phone number engraved on it, but it is a rather fancy thing nonetheless. the dark leather feels genuine and it smells exactly the way the inside of her mercedes does.
the leash attached to the collar gives victoria all the reign she could possibly have. at this point she doesn’t even let you breathe. you pull away? bad idea. she tugs you right back in, the slobbering mess of your face on her perfect puffy cunt the only view she’ll be having.
she might even give an idle tug or two just to hear you groan into her wetness, tongue-tied deep inside of her, and the pleasure from the vibration has her head tilting back, her thick painted lips parting with a soft sigh.
and when she cums — you don’t even want to pull away at that point, so pussy drunk she has to forcefully tear you away, lips swollen and eyes glossed over.
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zzukowo · 2 days
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the prince meets his princess <3 (26 September 2024)
Zuko x Reader
Prompt! Gaang goes to meet the water tribe princess who zuko finds himself at his knees for.
The journey to the Northern Water Tribe had been long and arduous, but the group finally neared the icy shores of the grand city. Zuko stood at the edge of Appa’s saddle, his eyes locked on the towering walls coming into view. His mind raced—part nerves, part anticipation. Aang and Katara had spoken about meeting the Water Tribe’s princess, Y/N, but Zuko wasn’t sure what to expect.
As they landed, they were greeted by a group of Water Tribe warriors, though it was clear they were awaiting someone more important.
“The princess will meet you shortly,” one of the warriors said, bowing slightly. “She’s been preparing for your arrival.”
Sokka nudged Katara with a grin. “Princess, huh? Bet she’s like Yue. All noble and proper.”
Katara smiled fondly at the memory of Yue but shook her head. “Not everyone’s like Yue, Sokka.”
Toph scoffed, her arms crossed as she sat comfortably on Appa. “Great, another fancy royal type. She better not be all high and mighty.”
Zuko remained quiet, his gaze focused on the palace. The Northern Water Tribe’s city shimmered in the ice and snow, a place of incredible beauty and power, but he couldn’t shake the sense that something—or rather, someone—was about to unsettle him.
And then she arrived.
Y/N stepped out from the palace gates with a group of waterbenders trailing behind her. She wore the elegant, traditional attire of the tribe, but there was something casual about the way she held herself—graceful yet relaxed, confident but not boastful. Her eyes swept across the group, lingering on each of them until they finally landed on Zuko.
“Welcome,” Y/N said, her voice carrying easily across the frozen courtyard. “I’ve been expecting you.”
Aang was the first to move, practically leaping forward in his excitement. “Thank you for welcoming us, Princess Y/N! Your city is amazing!”
Y/N smiled, her lips curving gently. “Please, just Y/N. No need for titles here.”
Sokka grinned at her, giving a mock salute. “Well, you’re already cooler than most princesses.”
Katara elbowed him hard in the ribs, but Y/N just laughed, her eyes twinkling. "I'm glad you think so. But don't let the title fool you—I can hold my own."
Zuko hadn’t said a word, too busy studying her. She was powerful; that much was obvious. But there was a warmth to her that reminded him of Katara, though her energy felt more like the calmness of water flowing steadily.
Y/N turned her attention toward him, and Zuko stiffened under her gaze. "And you must be Zuko," she said, a hint of curiosity in her tone. "The prince who turned against his father."
Zuko straightened, nodding slightly. “I am.”
Her smile didn’t falter. "You made the right choice. Fighting for peace instead of fear is the path worth taking."
For a moment, Zuko didn’t know how to respond. He wasn’t used to receiving such acknowledgment without any bitterness attached. His silence didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the group.
Toph grinned knowingly, sensing the vibrations in the ground from Zuko’s nervousness. “Oh yeah, he’s all tense. She’s totally got him wrapped around her little finger already.”
Sokka snickered. "Called it! Bet he’s already regretting wearing that broody look."
Zuko shot them a glare, but Y/N either didn’t hear or didn’t care, gesturing for the group to follow her. “Come, you must be tired from your journey. My people have prepared a feast for your arrival.”
As they walked through the grand halls of the palace, Zuko lagged behind, his mind swirling. He could feel the others’ eyes on him, especially Toph’s.
“I can feel how nervous you are, Sparky,” she said quietly as they walked. “She’s just a person, you know. No need to have your insides twisted up in knots.”
Zuko shot her a look, cheeks faintly reddening. “I’m not nervous.”
“Uh-huh.” Toph smirked. “Sure you’re not.”
When they reached the grand hall for dinner, Y/N took her place at the head of the table, her eyes occasionally flickering toward Zuko. He pretended not to notice, but everyone else certainly did.
“So, Princess Y/N,” Sokka began, leaning forward. “How do you spend your royal days? Training waterbenders? Organizing parties? Or, you know, defeating enemies like us.”
Y/N smiled, amused. "More like training waterbenders and making sure our warriors are prepared for anything. Parties aren’t exactly a priority these days."
Zuko remained quiet, watching her interact with the group. He could tell she was a capable leader, someone who was strong but kind, and it made his chest tighten in a way he hadn’t expected. There was something about her, the way she handled herself, that made him feel... off balance.
"You’ve been quiet, Hothead," Toph whispered, her voice dripping with amusement. “What, the princess got your tongue?”
Zuko stiffened, glaring at her. “Shut up, Toph.”
Toph smirked. “Relax, Sparky. Your heart’s pounding like a stampede.”
Sokka, overhearing, grinned from across the table. “Hey, Zuko, how’s it going over there? Enjoying the royal company?”
Zuko glared at him, his face flushing slightly. “I said shut up, Sokka.”
Toph snickered. “Too late. She’s already got you all flustered.”
The next morning, the group gathered at the training grounds to practice their bending. Y/N stood in the center of the field, demonstrating her mastery over water. Her movements were fluid and precise, the water responding effortlessly to her will. Zuko couldn’t help but watch, mesmerized by her control and grace.
“Are you just going to watch, or are you going to join me?” Y/N’s voice cut through his thoughts, and Zuko blinked, realizing she was looking directly at him.
“Uh, I—” Zuko hesitated, glancing at the others, who were grinning like idiots. “I’ll join.”
As he stepped forward, Toph elbowed Sokka. “He’s gonna embarrass himself, I can feel it.”
Sokka grinned. “Maybe he’ll manage to impress her. I doubt it, though.”
Y/N and Zuko faced off, her smile teasing yet focused. “Ready?”
Zuko nodded, trying to push aside the heat creeping up his neck. The spar began, water and fire clashing in a dazzling display of skill. Zuko fought to keep up with her fluid movements, but there was something disarming about the way Y/N moved—almost playful, like she was testing him more than challenging him.
From the sidelines, Toph grinned. “His heart’s pounding harder now. Looks like he’s a goner.”
Katara crossed her arms, smiling knowingly. “I think Y/N might be just what Zuko needs.”
As Zuko and Y/N sparred, it became clear that she was holding back. Her waterbending flowed like a river, never forceful but always controlled, while Zuko’s firebending was more aggressive—he couldn’t help it. The frustration building inside him made his flames larger, hotter, but none of it seemed to faze Y/N.
She deflected his flames with a single movement, sending the water back toward him in a spiraling wave. Zuko quickly dodged, skidding to the side, but as he turned back to counter, he found himself staring straight into Y/N’s teasing grin.
“What’s the matter, Prince Zuko?” she asked, her voice light, playful. “You seem distracted.”
Zuko clenched his fists, his brow furrowing. “I’m not distracted,” he muttered, trying to regain focus.
But it was no use. His mind kept replaying the soft, teasing lilt in her voice, the way her smile seemed to be aimed directly at him. And that only made him push harder, launching another stream of fire toward her. Y/N dodged with ease, stepping lightly across the icy ground as if she were dancing.
“Zuko, breathe,” Katara called from the sidelines, her arms crossed but her voice filled with concern. “You’re not going to win if you let her get under your skin.”
Toph chuckled, her grin widening as she shifted her feet, sensing the vibrations in the earth. “Oh, he’s definitely got more than fighting on his mind.”
Zuko shot a glare in Toph’s direction, but that second of distraction cost him. Y/N took the opportunity to send a jet of water straight toward him, knocking him off his feet. He landed with a thud, the breath knocked out of his lungs as he hit the ice.
For a moment, there was silence. Then Sokka burst out laughing. “Oh, man! She wiped the floor with you!”
Zuko groaned, pushing himself up, but before he could stand fully, a hand appeared in his vision. He looked up, seeing Y/N offering him a hand, her expression soft and amused.
“Good match,” she said with a slight smirk. “You put up a good fight.”
Zuko hesitated before taking her hand, feeling the warmth from her fingers despite the cold air around them. He rose to his feet, his eyes locking with hers, and for a brief moment, everything around them faded. There was something in her gaze, something playful but also… understanding. As if she saw something in him that no one else did.
But then the moment was broken by Toph’s snort. “Wow, Sparky, she knocked you down and now she’s got you all tongue-tied too?”
Zuko pulled his hand back quickly, his face flushing as he turned away. “I’m fine.”
Sokka came over, patting Zuko on the back with a grin. “Yeah, sure. Fine. Totally fine. Except for, you know, getting completely owned by a princess.”
“I didn’t get owned,” Zuko growled, shooting a glare at Sokka, who just laughed harder.
Y/N smiled, her eyes still lingering on Zuko for a moment longer before she turned back to the group. “You all must be hungry after watching the match. Come, let’s get something to eat.”
As they headed back to the palace, Toph fell into step beside Zuko, her smirk unmistakable. “You know, Sparky, for someone who claims not to be distracted, your heartbeat was going crazy the whole time. I could feel it all the way from the sidelines.”
Zuko groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Can you just… not, Toph?”
She grinned. “What? I’m just saying. She’s clearly into you too. You’re just too dense to notice.”
Zuko glared at her, but a part of him couldn’t help wondering if Toph was right. There was something about Y/N—something that pulled him in, no matter how hard he tried to fight it.
As they approached the dining hall, Y/N glanced over her shoulder, her eyes meeting Zuko’s again for a brief second. She gave him a small, knowing smile before turning back, and Zuko’s heart thudded in his chest.
Toph was right. He was definitely in trouble.
As they gathered in the grand dining hall, the group settled around the long, intricately carved table, the warmth of the firelight bouncing off the ice walls. Y/N took her place at the head, her calm demeanor only adding to the regal aura that surrounded her.
Zuko, sitting across from her, tried to focus on the food in front of him, but his eyes kept flickering back to Y/N. The way her fingers effortlessly twirled a strand of water from her cup, the smile that never seemed to fade, it was all too distracting. The others noticed—of course, they did—and it didn’t take long for the teasing to begin.
Sokka leaned forward, a grin already forming on his face. "You know," he started, glancing between Zuko and Y/N, "it’s kinda poetic, don’t you think? The Fire Prince and the Water Princess. It’s like something out of one of those old love stories."
Katara’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she chimed in. "Yeah, opposites attracting and all that. You two would balance each other perfectly."
Zuko’s face immediately flushed, his hands gripping his chopsticks a little tighter. "We’re not—" he started, but Sokka cut him off with a wave.
"Oh, come on, Zuko. Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about it." He leaned back in his chair, smirking. "Fire and water. It’s practically written in the stars."
Toph snorted from beside him. "I can feel your heart pounding from here, Sparky. You’ve been all jittery since we landed, and it’s definitely not because of the cold."
Y/N raised an eyebrow, her amused gaze flitting over to Zuko, who was desperately trying to keep his cool. She didn’t seem flustered at all by the teasing, instead taking it in stride.
"Well," Y/N said with a smirk, her voice light and teasing, "if we’re talking balance, I guess it would make sense. After all, fire needs water to keep it from getting out of control, right?"
The comment sent the group into a chorus of laughter, and Zuko could feel his face heat up even more. He glared at Sokka and Toph, though it did nothing to stop the teasing.
Aang, ever the peacekeeper, grinned as he nodded in agreement. "I think it makes sense! You both have this calm intensity about you. Like… you’re passionate in different ways, but it would complement each other."
"Exactly!" Sokka said, pointing his chopsticks at Zuko dramatically. "See? Even the Avatar agrees! The Fire Prince and the Water Princess, destined to—"
"That’s enough!" Zuko finally snapped, slamming his chopsticks down on the table, his face a deep shade of red. "We’re just… allies. That’s it."
But Y/N, ever calm and unbothered, leaned forward with a playful glint in her eyes. "Allies, huh?" She glanced at the group before meeting Zuko’s eyes again. "Well, I suppose we’ll see what happens, won’t we?"
Zuko nearly choked on his drink at the way she said it, the subtle teasing in her tone making his heart race even faster. He quickly looked away, his mind scrambling for something—anything—to say that wouldn’t make him sound like a complete idiot.
Toph grinned, clearly enjoying every second of Zuko’s discomfort. "You’re making this too easy, Zuko. I didn’t even need to bend to feel how hard you’re blushing."
Sokka leaned closer, whispering loud enough for everyone to hear, "I bet they’ll be exchanging love letters by the end of the week."
Zuko shot him a death glare. "Shut. Up."
But the teasing only continued, the group laughing and throwing playful jabs at the so-called "perfect match" of the Fire Prince and the Water Princess. Through it all, Y/N remained calm, an amused smile on her lips as she occasionally glanced at Zuko, clearly enjoying how flustered he was becoming.
And as the laughter died down and they returned to their meals, Zuko couldn’t help but steal one more glance at Y/N. She caught his eye, giving him a small, knowing smile that made his heart skip a beat.
Maybe, just maybe, there was something to the whole "Fire Prince and Water Princess" idea after all.
The air was crisp and cool as the group moved from the dining hall to the palace’s outer courtyard. The sun had just begun to set, casting shades of pink and orange across the sky, reflecting off the ice sculptures that lined the walkway. Y/N led the way, her steps graceful as she guided them to a peaceful overlook by the water.
Zuko trailed behind, still feeling the heat in his cheeks from the relentless teasing at dinner. Every time he tried to shake the embarrassment, Toph or Sokka would shoot him a look or make another comment under their breath, and it would start all over again.
Y/N, seemingly unbothered by the playful jabs, kept a small smile on her lips as they walked. Her posture was relaxed, her hands lightly trailing along the icy walls of the palace as if she had all the time in the world. Zuko couldn’t help but admire her ease. While the world was on the brink of war, and their futures felt uncertain, she moved through it all with a sense of calm that made everything around her seem less daunting.
It drove him mad—and fascinated him all at once.
As they reached the overlook, Y/N stopped, gazing out at the vast expanse of icy waters. The setting sun cast a golden glow on the waves, the calm surface reflecting the fire in the sky. She turned to face the group, her eyes bright with excitement.
“There’s something I want to show you,” she said softly, motioning for them to sit.
The group gathered around her, curiosity piqued. Aang, always eager to learn new bending techniques, practically bounced on his toes. Katara folded her arms, a smile tugging at her lips, while Sokka, now more relaxed after their earlier banter, sat with his chin propped in his hand.
Zuko, despite his best efforts to act indifferent, found himself leaning closer, his attention fully on Y/N.
With a graceful flick of her wrist, Y/N pulled water from the ocean, bringing it up into a sphere that hovered in the air. She stepped closer to the group, the water shifting and moving as if alive, responding to her every command. Zuko watched as the sphere shimmered, the light from the sunset refracting through it, creating a kaleidoscope of colors.
“I’ve been working on this for a while,” Y/N explained, her voice low and calm. “It’s a technique unique to our tribe, passed down through generations.”
She stepped back, giving the water a gentle push with her palm. It began to spiral, turning faster and faster until it formed a vortex, hovering just above their heads. The group looked up in awe as droplets of water began to fall, catching the light and sparkling like stars.
Even Toph, though unable to see, seemed to sense the beauty of it. “Whoa… that’s pretty cool, Princess.”
“Wait—” Sokka held up a hand. “Is this your way of showing off for Zuko? ‘Cause if it is, I gotta admit, it’s working.”
Y/N shot him a look, her expression soft but amused. “Sokka, not everything is about trying to impress someone.”
Zuko, once again the center of attention, immediately stiffened. “I wasn’t—”
But Sokka wasn’t finished. “I mean, come on, fire and water? It’s like destiny, right?” He leaned back with a smirk. “You two were literally made for each other.”
Y/N laughed lightly, shaking her head. “Is that so?”
Before Zuko could say anything, Aang chimed in, ever the optimist. “He’s kind of right. Fire and water balance each other, just like in nature. It’s all about harmony.”
Toph snorted, smirking in Zuko’s direction. “I dunno, Twinkletoes. I’m still sensing a lot of *tension* from Sparky over here.”
Katara, always the voice of reason, smiled gently at Y/N. “It’s amazing how you control the water so effortlessly. You and Zuko could probably teach each other a lot.”
Zuko, whose face was now burning brighter than the setting sun, couldn’t take it anymore. “Enough!” He stood abruptly, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Can we just—” He paused, taking a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “Can we focus on the mission, not on… this.”
The teasing grins around him didn’t fade, but they did settle down for the moment. Y/N, however, remained calm, her gaze never leaving him.
“Alright,” she said gently, waving her hand and allowing the water vortex to collapse back into the ocean. “The mission it is, then.”
The group fell silent for a moment, watching the last remnants of the vortex disappear beneath the waves. The only sound was the gentle lapping of the water against the icy shore.
Zuko turned away, embarrassed by how easily the group had gotten under his skin. He was the Fire Prince, and yet, when it came to her, he couldn’t control his reactions. It frustrated him to no end.
But before he could spiral further into his thoughts, Y/N spoke again, her voice soft and steady. “Zuko.”
He hesitated, then turned to face her. She stepped closer, her eyes shining with warmth, not a trace of teasing in her expression.
“I know they’re just messing with you,” she said quietly, so only he could hear. “But if it helps, I’ve always admired your strength. Your fire isn’t something to hide from.”
Zuko blinked, her words sinking in deeper than he expected. She smiled at him, soft and sincere, and for the first time in a long while, Zuko felt like he wasn’t fighting alone.
“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Y/N nodded, stepping back to rejoin the group as they began discussing the next part of their journey. But Zuko couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between them—something subtle but undeniable.
And for the first time, he wondered if maybe—just maybe—the group’s teasing wasn’t all that far off.
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lilcathsmith · 3 months
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Greg in every episode of CSI (87/328) • Down The Drain •
#csi#greg sanders#nick stokes#sara sidle#warrick brown#gil grissom#catherine willows#csi s5#csi 5x02#there he is! my favourite white boy!#own post#mine: every episode#ok time to talk about Greg and Sara#i love them. not only are they my favourite duo in the whole show I have to argue that s5 is one of their best seasons for their friendship#Greg's crush on Sara is out of the way which leaves so much space for their platonic relationship to grow. their flirting/teasing is#so playful and completely lowstakes. Greg isn't trying to win over Sara anymore they're just having a good time and banter-ing#in episode 14 (i think?) after Sara gets suspended and Greg asks what happened she says she doesnt want to talk about it#and greg says hes a good listener Sara explains (briefly) and then they just move on is so wholesome its such an under-rated moment for the#and when he's like “Sara's been suspended? we have to help” is just so ultimate ride or die bestie#but what I think it most important is that whilst Grissom/Cath teach Greg how to actually BE a CSI and how to do the job Sara teaches him#how to DEAL with the job. like in this ep with Gregs first autopsy Sara asks how he found it and you just know that if Greg was more freake#by it she would allow him to say that without just being like “thats the job get on with it” which maybe some of the others would? and that#why I think Greg still has such a heart to the job. flash forward to s15 when the girl attacks Greg because shes been drugged and he gets S#SAD because he felt bad about not being able to help and calm her down I feel like thats bc of Sara :“)#anyway long stort short Greg and Sara are the best platonic pairing in CSI and i love them
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saudadeko · 1 year
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ADHD tips from a girlie who was diagnosed in her late twenties and has had little to no support since and is being so brave about it:
1) Make it easy, make it accessible, and make it appealing. If anything this is the most important thing, all tips going forward are based around this concept.
2) That thing you think would help you but you haven’t bought/done it yet because you’re technically surviving without it? Buy it, you need it. It doesn’t matter if people around you might think it’s wasteful or that you’re lazy, you’re not, just do it, trust me.
3) Expanding on tip #2, if you’re like me and eggs are your main source of protein because they’re quick and easy and feeding yourself is a near insurmountable task- buy yourself an electric egg cooker, make a bunch of hard boiled eggs and keep them in your fridge for quick and easy protein to add to any meal (handful of crackers, a hard boiled egg and a banana? 5 star meal right there. Or mash them up with some mayo for egg salad sandwiches). Other easy proteins include: potstickers (put them in instant ramen), edamame (they have microwaveable snack packs), chickpeas (put in salads!), beans (can of beans microwaved with shredded cheese and some tortilla chips), peanut butter (with crackers, apple and cheese, adult lunchable style), and tofu (cut into cubes, throw them into a ziplock with some seasoning and potato starch, shake that shit up and bake it until crispy).
4) Spend a little extra (if you are able) on daily use items that excite you, it will make you more likely to remember/want to do said daily task. For example: the only reason I remember to use sunscreen is because I bought some fancy japanese sunscreen that smells like roses so I get excited to use it, same for laundry detergent and body wash! there’s a gajillion different body wash scents out there, switch it up!
5) If there’s a task you continuously struggle with take a moment to think about which part of the task is making it difficult, it could be something even as small as “I don’t put my dirty clothes in the hamper because my hamper has a lid on it and lifting the lid is one step too many-”, sounds a little stupid huh? But trust your gut, it’s not stupid if it works. See tip #2 and BUY A HAMPER WITHOUT A LID.
6) If you are having trouble starting a task, break the task down further, sometimes the way I start a task is just by going “Ok step 1) stand up-“ and so forth. Don’t worry about the task as a whole just take it one step at a time.
7) If you’re halfway through a task and have to stop, leave it out. All this, “Put things away when you’re done with them.” is bullshit. you will be much more likely to finish the task if restarting it is easier because you left it out plus it’s a visual reminder. You can also create faux deadlines like “I gotta finish this project before my friend comes over on tuesday because after I finish it I can clean off the dinner table.” etc.
8) It’s okay to outsource tasks and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, humans are designed to ask for, and to require help (what do babies do when they’re first born?? cry for help!!) ask for help and receive help without shame, if it makes your life better, you are WINNING.
9) If you have one big overwhelming task that you think you need to get done before anything else, but you feel motivated to do other tasks, do those other tasks first, it’s okay. Otherwise in all likelihood (at least in my case) you’ll put everything off until the last minute and then have to do said overwhelming task and those other tasks won’t get done at all. Doing those smaller tasks also lowers the mental load and you can use them as a motivation launch pad to tackle bigger things.
10) If you notice you tend to not put something away/forget to do something, perhaps consider moving and storing the item closer to where it ultimately ends up or where you are more likely to see it. For example, my makeup, pills, and mail are all stored on my desk because that’s where I tend to do my makeup, take my pills and deal with my mail. I used to store my pills in my bathroom medicine cabinet but all too often I would forget because they weren’t in my line of sight. Now that they’re on my desk, I have multiple chances per day to pass by them, go “oh I gotta take those.” and take them.
11) Open storage, open storage, OPEN STORAGE.
12) Motivation can look like all kinds of things. sometimes the only reason I get out of bed is because I remember I have a fun snack and I get to go eat it if I get up. It’s okay to lean into those simple “animal-brain” type motivators, you’ll eat because then you can use that fun new kitchen gadget you got a daiso? Neat. you’ll shower because then you can paint your nails that fun new color you got? Fantastic. You’ll go to the dmv and do that annoying thing because you’ll take yourself out for boba after? Superb. Lean-IN to those small motivators, they aren’t stupid or childish, they are VITAL.
13) Don’t buy into the cult of “if it’s worth doing, do it properly” it’s guaranteed to set you up for failure. If it’s worth doing, do it in whatever capacity you are able to. I put sunscreen on once a day because that’s fucking better than not doing it at all and I sure as all hell will fail at reapplying it multiple times a day. If it’s worth doing, do it half-assed babieeee.
Go forth and prosper!!! xoxo ✌️🩵
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mostly-imagines · 5 months
Text
So This Is Love
jason todd x fem!reader
aka you show each other what love is supposed to be like
4 in 1 blurbs
warnings: section 1: close-call panic attack for j, mentions of ptsd for j // section 2: implied sexual activity // section 3: mild angst w comfort // section 4: implied ptsd for j
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He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.
The nightmare wasn’t anything unusual for him, but it did feel particularly vivid tonight. It was more of a memory than anything, though. That same one that plays on a loop in his head throughout the night the more he tries to push it away during the day. It was the last thwack of the crowbar that had him jolt awake in bed.
You shift in your spot next to him, opening your eyes to see his rattled state. If he’d been in a clearer frame of mind he would’ve lied to you. He would’ve expertly leveled his breathing and told you everything was fine and to go back to sleep.
But instead, he looks over at you with wide eyes, chest heaving and shaking like he might start hyperventilating at any moment.
You shoot up from the bed, instantly on alert. This isn’t the first time he’s had one of these nightmares around you, so it’s not hard for you to guess where this is coming from.
“Jay? What’s—what do you need?” You know better than to try and touch him unprompted right now, you’ve panicked enough yourself to know that sudden contact only makes it worse.
“I—I can’t, I—” Now he really looks like he’s about to lose all control of his breathing.
You sit up further, moving onto your knees. “Here, let me—can I see your hand?” you ask gently, holding your own out.
He extends it to you without question, a tiny act of vulnerability that he couldn’t have dreamed of doing in this state before he met you.
You flip his hand over, palm-up and start tracing lines over it in the moonlight. You’re looking at his hand quite intently like there’s something very important on it. It’s enough to make him question what the hell you’re doing. 
“I can read palms.” You tell him, simply. 
“What?” His voice almost breaks, like he’s right at the edge of tears. 
“Yeah, my friend taught me. I can tell the future and everything.” You look up at him, fingers not stopping their trailing. “Do you wanna hear yours?”
All he can do is nod.
You smile and start to inspect his hand carefully, tracing over calluses and a few tiny scars. You draw your finger across the short, deep line parallel to his fingers.
“This one…see the way it curves upwards right there?” He nods. “That means you’re very resourceful and ambitious. Like a leader.” His breathing starts to slow as he watches you, trying to focus on what you’re showing him in the dim light from the window.
“And this one,” you trace the line that curves downwards in the middle, “This one says that you’re strong and stubborn, which I can confirm,” he huffs out a laugh. It’s little but it’s genuine. “But it also means that you’re resilient. You’re built to overcome things and bounce back even stronger because of them. Which I can also confirm.”
He leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He takes in a deep breath, watching you draw patterns across the base of his palm.
The sensation soothes him in a way that he frankly didn’t know he could be soothed. He figures he usually can’t, except when it’s you. He tries to match your breathing, syncing up with you. If anyone else tried to get this close to him when he was on the verge of a panic attack they’d get punched, at best.
But you…you always know how to help him. He’s considered in the past that he did something really right somewhere down the line and you were sent to him as reward. He’d racked his mind for hours of every good thing he’d ever done, trying to find one that could explain your presence in his life. For anything that could explain why he deserved you. He poured and poured over every memory he could dig up but couldn’t find any good he’d ever done that surmounted to a single piece of the good in your heart.
There was a time when he would’ve thought—when he did think that you were only in his life to be taken away as soon as he felt safe. That would certainly be in line with previous experiences. But you showed him quickly that you have this way about you…it makes those loud thoughts in the back of his head shut up and just listen. Listen to your words, your breathing, your footsteps, your laugh…anything he could. Because it turns out, when he listens, he feels safe. 
He’s quiet for a long time, contentedly watching you work. He notices that at some point you’d stopped tracing the lines and began drawing designs instead. 
He breaks the silence after several minutes, softly commenting, “You don’t know how to read palms.”
“No, I do not.” 
But you continued to leave your invisible art on the palm of his hand just the same, both of you taking comfort in the sound of the other's breathing and the soothing feeling of each other’s skin.
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The radio plays lightly in the background, surrounding your night with soft ambience. You’re working at the cutting board with tomatoes as Jason leans against the counter next to you, having just finished getting the pasta set up on the stove.
His hands find your hips, resting them there as he watches you work over your shoulder.
“Watch your thumb.” He comments when the knife gets a little too close for his liking.
You shrug him off, “I know how to do it.”
He eyes the way the knife stutters as you cut through the tomato, slicing through not very cleanly at all. “Doesn’t look like it.”
You ignore him, elbowing him gently in the abdomen. He’s joking, but he’s not. The skill level you’re displaying is only above Bruce and slightly below Tim, which is not great.
“Will you let me do it?” he asks you when he realizes there’s going to be no improvement. 
“Fine.” You relent with faux annoyance. 
You switch over to the stovetop, keeping a careful eye on the pasta as it cooks. It’s quiet for a moment as he works, chopping with much more efficiency than you had.  
“You didn’t have to stay here tonight, you know.” You say quietly, still intently watching the stove.
In spite of the music, your low volume does nothing to faze him as he continues his actions, “Why wouldn’t I?”
You stir the contents of the saucepan around. “Well, I know Roy wanted you to go out…”
“Not missing much.” He mumbles, opening up the above cabinet to get out plates.
You lull your head to the side, “Come on, he’s your best friend.”
Jason frowns. “He’s not my best friend.”
You turn your head towards him, “No?”
He meets your gaze, frown consistent. “No. You are.” He says it like he’s confused that you don’t know that. 
“Oh.” You smile, “You’re my best friend too.”
His eyes soften at that, a light smile gracing his lips. He knew that, and he knew you’d say it, but hearing it out loud just…does something to him.
You flick the stove top off, prompting him to on instinct reach for the Marinara jar and crack it open for you. He hands it to you and you accept with a smile, twisting it open the rest of the way as you turn back to the stove. The jar sputters as you open, spitting out sauce.    
“Oh, shit.” You hiss, when the splatter hits your shirt.
He takes one glance at the mess on your shirt and pulls his own shirt off his back. He’s tugging yours off just as fast, replacing it with his. You’ve barely processed what happened as he scans your body, eyes lingering on where his shirt stops at your thighs. “Can you wear this to bed tonight?” He asks, hands running over your waist.
You laugh, “Really?”
He meets your eyes, face serious. “Yes.” He squeezes your hip, “You look good.”
“In your shirt.” You say with a knowing smile.
“In my shirt.” He confirms.
You turn back to the stove to dish out the salsa, his hands skimming around your thighs as you do. He watches you as you work, though rather than watching your hands he’s fixated on the size of his shirt over you and how fucking good you look right now. 
“Or…” He sweeps his eyes over your legs before looking back up at you again. “Did’ya turn the stove off?”
You tilt your head at him, “I did…?”
He grins at you, lifting you up by your thighs til you’re a head above him. “Good.” He maneuvers you over to the counter, setting you on top. He brings your wrist up to his mouth to press a delicate kiss before dropping to his knees.
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You’ve been laying in bed for at least three hours, bordering on sleep but never quite falling in. You and Jason had a little spat, though nothing insurmountable, it was still the biggest fight you’ve had to date. You’d tried going out (at night) to see your friend that was having a hard time, and yeah, you should’ve told Jason you were going. It was only five blocks, give or take, but in Gotham at eleven o’clock at night, it’s a risk to say the least.
You should’ve told Jason, you know. But he wouldn’t have let you go or would’ve insisted on putting hold on patrolling to accompany you. You always feel bad when he does that—people could be getting hurt somewhere because you needed your boyfriend to walk you down the street. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter in the end because he caught you red handed before you’d even made it a full block away. Of all the nights for him to come home early, it had to be this one.
He dropped down from the rooftop behind you and scared the absolute hell out of you, and you didn’t even have time to be relieved that it was just him because he was on you in a flash. 
“What the hell are you doing out here?” His voice was hard through the modulator, a rare tone for him to use with you.
“I just—my friend—” he sounded tired and angry, sure signs that he’d really not had a good night so far which was probably all the more reason that you shouldn’t have been out by yourself in the middle of the night.
“What are you—no! Go home. Now.” You would’ve, you really would’ve, but your friend called you crying about her boyfriend cheating on her again and she needed the in person support. 
“Ja—” You’d cut yourself off, “It’s down the street, it’s fine—” He dropped his shoulders in a huff and faced you dead-on. You didn’t need him to take his helmet off to know exactly how he was looking at you.
He dropped down and hooked his arm around the back of your legs, lifting you off the ground with no discernible effort. “Wha—”
He started walking before you were even fully planted on his shoulder, arm wrapping around your legs to hold you in place. 
“Hood! I am so fucking serious, put me down!” You swatted at his back and struggled in his grip, though in the back of your mind you knew it was a pointless effort. Even if you were a match in size, whatever mood he’d been pushed in was enough to guarantee that you had no chance. 
He ignored you, not even pretending that you were giving him any difficulty with your squirming. He marched you back down the block to your apartment, not stopping until you’re outside your door. He set you down in between him and the entrance, digging into his pocket for his key.
He kicked the door shut behind him, finally letting you go. He wordlessly grabbed one of his spare guns and two cartridges of ammo from inside the closet by the door and turned back to you with a firm stance. “Stay here.”
You immediately tried to push past him again, at that point more angry about him dragging you back here than about having to duck out on your friend. He stopped you, holding you by the arms, which led you to respond by raising your voice at him, “Jason!” 
But he didn’t waste any time letting you know how it is, “I will lock you in this fucking apartment. Stay. Here.” Him cursing at you like that was very rare and not a particularly good sign, so through your anger you’d made the decision that it was better to relent, for now. Your posture dropped and you frowned at him resentfully, a visible cue that you were giving in without you having to say it. 
He stayed true to his word and locked the door on his way out, though knowing you could easily unlock it from the inside. You’d trudged into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you.   
Now you lay on Jason’s usual side of the bed, partially because you do miss him, partially because the bed feels a little less empty when you can’t see all the empty space. You know he was just trying to keep you safe after what was probably a rough start to the night, so you feel less than great that you’d yelled at him.
Your dwelling over the memory is interrupted by a quiet creak of the bedroom door. You blink up at him blearily, “Jay?” You sit up, furrowing your brow. You didn’t even hear him come home. “What’s wrong?” You figure he must be hurt to come in here—it’s not unknown for him to sleep on the couch if he feels like he did something wrong or upset you.   
Your eyes attempt to adjust to the darkness, scanning over him for any injuries. He’s out of his armor and in his regular clothes which means he must have showered already. And you know from dozens of nights patching him up that he always tends to his injuries before showering.
This leaves you confused, as you look up at him, waiting for an answer. “I can’t…I don’t want to sleep without you.” He whispers, eyes on the floor. 
You shuffle back into your usual spot near the wall and hold your hand out to him expectantly. You’re still a bit cross with him, but you miss him too much to care right now.
It takes him a second to move, but he eventually lingers away from the door and makes his way to the bed. He takes your hand as he climbs onto the bed, letting go only when you lay down after him, staring up at the ceiling next to him. 
You weren’t entirely expecting him to wrap his arms around you and tug you into his chest. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’d assumed he would lay on his side and you on yours and that would be enough for him to fall asleep with. Instead, he tightens his arms and buries his face into the crook of your neck. You lay there in silence for a couple minutes, both thinking.
“You’re mad.” He mumbles into your shoulder after a while. You know he feels badly about the dispute, you knew it while it was still happening. As hard as he tries, he’s not very good at hiding his emotions. Not with you, anyways.
You shrug slightly. “Barely. I’ll get over it. This is more important.”
He picks his head up to look at you, “I love you. You know that?”
You wiggle out of his grip a bit, making him frown. You use the new space to flip over to face him, before placing his arm back around your waist. You peek up at him, looking him in the eyes, “I do. You know I love you. Even when we fight.”
He looks at you like he’s a bit thrown off by your words. “I’m sorry. It was just…it was a rough night…I—I’m sorry.” He tells you dolefully.  
You shake your head, frowning. “Don’t be. I should’ve texted you.”
“It—yeah. Please. I just worry about you.” He looks so sad and it makes you feel somehow worse.
“I know,” you whisper, “I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t be.” He kisses your forehead, not moving away after.
You feel like you can finally relax and your tense body doesn’t take long to slacken in his hold. Soon after, he does the same, both of you closing your eyes. You feel your heart slow and your mind starts to find a space of peace.    
Before you crash out, you mumble out, “I’m going to be a little passive aggressive in the morning, though.”
“I’d hope so.”
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Jason didn’t get it at first.
Honestly, he didn’t really realize that you noticed things about him that even he didn’t see.
Your neighbor was having their place remodeled and you knew there would be construction going on near your apartment all day.
Jason didn’t really care, planning to bury his head under the pillow and trying to sleep through it. You however, seemed very adamant about getting out of the apartment that day. You’d left hours before the construction crew had even gotten there, telling him it was a nice day out.
It was an alright day, but he let you have your way.
You held his hand as you walked down the street, looking into shop windows and commenting on things you think he’d like.
You led him into a book store excitedly, telling him about how the author he’d been binging had just published something new. He didn’t even know that.
You were browsing the sections, flipping through books as you went. You peered across the shop at a kid holding an absolutely massive pile of books, who was clearly struggling to keep them in his arms.
His mother tried to help him but he shook his head and strided away independently, albeit very slowly. The weight of the books though, did get the best of him, and you could tell by the quivering in his arms that he was going to drop them.
“Loud noise.” You said quickly, seemingly out of the blue. Jason turned to you, confused, before seeing the stack the books splat flat onto the ground. It was indeed a loud noise.
He tilts his head at you, though you’re still busy watching the little boy as he throws his head back in frustration.
“What was that?”
You look at him, “He dropped his books.”
“Yeah, I saw. But why—”
His question gets cut off by the kid bursting into tears, wailing. You turn back to look at him, your gaze getting caught by the new book you’d been telling him about. “Ooh!”
You grab his hand and pull him over with you, smiling widely when you have the book in your hands. The sight of you makes him feel so warm so fast that he forgets about the odd interaction all together.
A couple hours later, you sit outside a cafe and eat lunch together, his back to the road, you sitting diagnal to him.
He’s telling you about the shit Damian got in trouble for at school last week, holding your hand with his right hand and eating with his left.
“He thinks he’s not going to get expelled for pulling shit like that every other week, it’s ridiculous.” He says, tossing his napkin down on the table.
Your smile is wavers as your eyes move past his shoulder looking down the block before widening, “Car—”
The sudden noise startles him enough to make him visibly jump, hand flying to where his holster would be. He looks over at the fender bender, shoulders relaxing.
He turns back to you to find your eyes looking far more worried than they should. You seem to be scanning his face, looking for something and he’s about to ask you what’s wrong when it sinks in.
He does get scared by unexpected loud sounds, doesn’t he? He never really thinks of it until it happens, but his mind is trained to expect gunshots or crowbars making impact.
It doesn’t happen often, but it noticeably takes a little piece out of him when it does.
“You…” he tries, but falters. He’s not even sure he’s processing this right.
He’s never seriously tried to fathom that you love him half as much as he loves you, though love doesn’t feel like a strong enough word. He lives and breathes for you, you’ve become a lifeline he’d been stranded without for most of his life. But now you're here and you’re everything, you’re in his head all the time, in every emotion he feels.
He thinks he’s here for you, that he was brought back from the dead because of you. You can’t possibly understand how much his heart is full of you, he doesn’t understand it himself.
He knows you love him, he’s gotten that through his head. But he can’t get a grasp on the idea that he’s equally matched in the who loves who the most battle.
Do you really care that much about him to go out of your way to keep track of things that might startle him? He knows there’s a million things about you that are in the back of his mind at any given time, but surely you don’t operate that same way with him?
Do you?
There’s this burning in his heart that aches and it only gets stronger when he sees you looking at him like that. So genuine. With care, with love.
He squeezes your hand, “I love you. More than anything.”
The look on your face sinks back into that sweet, adorable look that he’s so used to and it makes him want to scream.
You smile that bright smile and it sends his heart rocketing into oblivion. “I love you.” You squeeze his hand back, “More than everything.”
He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.
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theweewooshow · 4 months
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“Mmm,” Evan says after Tommy slips back into bed after cleaning them up. “We should get married.”
He’s still laying face down, pillow smushed against his face, so Tommy thinks he mishears it the first time around.
“What?” he asks, because there’s no way those words just came out of his mouth. They’ve barely been dating for six months.
Evan turns his head to the side and says clearly, “We should get married.”
“Yeah, okay, I thought I misheard you. You're not serious,” Tommy says, but his heart speeds up all the same.
They have keys to each other’s places, they’ve said I love you (maybe a little soon, maybe after a tough call, maybe because the feeling was too big to ignore even if it had only been a handful of months), Evan’s floated the idea of moving in when his lease is up.
So it’s not like marriage is something that Tommy thought was a total impossibility for the future.
Evan sighs and says, “I just really want to see Gerrard’s face if I put in a request to get new turnouts and shirts and new name pins because we got hitched.”
Tommy grins despite himself, but then schools his face into his patented Evan face, and says, “I’m not letting Gerrard steal an important moment from us just because you want to give him a heart attack. I do love this vindictive streak of yours though. It’s very sexy.”
He’s heard from both Chimney and Eddie that Evan has been a menace at work, literally carrying around the rule book hoping to catch any infractions Gerrard makes. He’s been yanked forward as Evan has tried to eat his face when Tommy picked him up after a shift, Gerrard looking on with a scowl. He’s heard from Evan himself about the judgment calls he’s made on calls just to be able to throw it back in Gerrard’s face (and save some lives while he’s at it).
And it’s all done nothing but turn Tommy on. He didn't know sticking it to Gerrard would be so fucking satisfying even if he has to live vicariously through Evan to do it.
“But not sexy enough for you to marry me,” Evan says, his lips pouty.
“Afraid not,” Tommy says, stroking a hand down Evan’s sweaty back. “Is that—is that something you would want, though?”
His palms feel clammy as the words come out of his mouth. They haven't talked seriously about what the future looks like for them because it’s still pretty early even if Tommy knows that this is kind of a once in a lifetime love for him.
Evan turns onto his side and props his head up on hand. “Marriage? Yeah, I want to get married one day.”
Tommy nods, a little too quick to be nonchalant. “I’d also like to get married one day.”
The words come out breathless and it’s too telling, showing all of Tommy’s cards, but he can’t find it in him to be afraid of this.
“What a coincidence,” Evan says, ducking his head and smiling bashfully. “Maybe one day we’ll both be married.”
Tommy can feel his face getting hot. “Maybe,” he says, his hand sliding down Evan’s arm so he can lace their fingers together.
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girlgenius1111 · 14 days
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throw it all away
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part 1 of 2 if no one is noticing any changes, there must not be a problem. but then, someone does notice. and there is a problem. that just isn't a reality you really feel like accepting. [putellas!reader]... alexia realizes you're struggling. how does she help you with something she doesn't understand? tw: this is a fic about r struggling with an ED. proceed with caution.
“You’ve lost weight.” 
It wasn’t said with an impressed nod or smile. It wasn’t said like a benchmark you’d met. It wasn’t said like it was a good thing.
Somehow, you knew it wouldn’t be. 
Instead, the physio’s voice was gentle, concerned. He spoke to you like he knew how you got here, but he couldn’t. How could he know?
No one noticed. Not your teammates, not your friends. Not Spain’s physios. Not even your sister. 
And that’s what you wanted. 
“Okay…” You said, like you didn‘t understand why he’d  brought this up. 
“Not a little weight. Enough that I’m concerned.” His eyes were squinted a little, like he was trying to see right through you. Still, you maintained your composure, kept your face blank. 
“Well, I didn’t have much of an off season. It’s been pretty nonstop even since the end of the league season. I’m just in shape.” 
He shook his head, now looking almost pityingly at you. “That’s what the issue is? You’re sure?” 
You did what you’d been doing for months: you lied. 
“Yep. Can’t think of anything else it could be.” Your tone was light, even as the weight of the unspoken words settled heavily on your chest. 
“We have to be careful with these things, you understand. We’ll change up your meal plan, and see how you are in a week. You’ll be on light training anyway, like the rest of the girls coming back. If it’s a matter of being overworked, we’ll get you back healthy in no time.”
He didn’t say what would happen if things didn’t go back to normal; if this wasn’t just being overworked. He didn’t need to. He was giving you a chance to correct this yourself before he has to involve the doctors and the coaches. And your sister. He was giving you a chance to fix this before it became a much, much bigger deal. 
As you left the medical room, you wished more than anything that this was a chance you could take, but you knew that it wasn’t. 
You knew the physio had opened his mouth a week later when he came out during a water break to pull Alexia, Irene, and Pere aside. He spoke to them quietly for a few minutes, all three of them furtively looking over at you every so often. You knew what you were in for when you got home; probably a very angry Alexia. Angry that you were jeopardizing your career and your health, throwing all your hard work away. For Alexia, football was the most important thing in the world. Sometimes it felt like it was more important than you, and you knew that she wouldn’t understand this. She would see what you were going through as a weakness, something you needed to quickly resolve, and get back to the most important thing. 
It was just that you weren’t capable of handling Angry Alexia right now. Not when you already felt kind of faint from training on an empty stomach, horribly grumpy because you were fucking hungry, and honestly still in denial that anything was wrong. It would lead to a whole blow up fight you didn’t want to get into, and as such, you weren’t looking forward to going home. Alexia surprised you. 
She’d started off angry, moving to stomp over, grab you, and haul you home so she could yell, when Irene grabbed her wrist and encouraged her to just listen for a second. 
“This is going to ruin her season.” Alexia seethed. “Does she not realize that she’s hurting the team?”
Irene regarded her incredulously for a moment, having to remind herself that the other woman’s brain just worked differently than hers. “Ale, she’s hurting herself. Whatever she’s doing isn’t a selfish decision she’s making. She’s sick.” 
Your sister grew quiet, chewing on her lip as she thought through Irene’s words. 
“You can’t yell, Ale. You can’t be mad at her. She needs help, and she isn’t going to want to accept it. You have to be careful with this, gentle and patient and kind. Okay?” Irene said, staring hard at her co captain. 
“Yeah.” Alexia said quietly. “Pedro, do you know why… or how?” 
Pedro shook his head, worry clouding his face. “I asked her about it a week ago, and she pretended she had no idea what I was talking about. I told her she had a week to get back on track, but she didn’t. I don’t know how, or why. Those are both questions for your sister.” 
Alexia nodded, her gaze stuck on where you were stretching, just inside the gym tent. “Pere, can we go? I need to talk to her, and I know there needs to be a conversation with everyone, but she’ll just feel cornered if that’s where we start. I want to take her home to talk.” 
Pere agreed immediately, telling Alexia to take as much time as she needed, and reach out to the club for any help they could provide at all. Irene walked with the blonde in the direction of the tent, her arm slung across Alexia’s shoulders. 
“She isn’t going to want to talk to me.” Alexia murmured. “She hates talking about her feelings, especially with me.” 
Irene frowned. “You’re her sister. She trusts you more than she trusts anyone. Just stay calm and don’t get angry. I know when you worry you tend to get angry, but try not to let that happen. It won’t help.” 
Alexia nodded, having arrived at the entryway of the gym. Irene patted her on the back, telling her to call if she needed help, before she headed inside. She called you over, receiving a few odd looks from her teammates at the strange tone of her voice. 
Your sister could see how terrified you looked, even from all the way across the gym. Her heart clenched at the brave face you were trying to put on; it didn’t hide how scared you were.  
“Yeah?” You said, trying to act casual as you walked over to your sister, even though you felt kind of dizzy, and your head was pounding with a headache, not to mention the anxiety that was coursing through your veins. 
“We’re going home, we need to talk.” Her tone wasn’t clipped or sharp like you expected it to be. Her face wasn’t set with anger, her hands weren’t clenched into fists at her side. She looked strangely… calm. 
“Talk? About what?” You questioned, feeling defensive even if your sister wasn’t mad. 
“We’ll talk about it when we’re home. Let’s go.” With that, she led you out of the tent, back towards the main building. You stumbled slightly, the dizziness and nerves combining to make you a bit unsteady. 
Your sister steadied you, both her hands on her shoulders. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” 
If you’d had any hopes that Alexia didn’t know what was going on, those disappeared. Her eyes flitted over you, her grip strong, as if she was worried you’d collapse or something. 
“Nothing. I’m fine.” Your voice was shaking, for a reason you weren’t quite sure of. 
Alexia softened, surprising you as she wrapped her arms around you tightly, pulling you into a hug. It was nice, comforting, and you sank into it, taking just a moment to allow yourself to be weak. 
It wasn’t comforting for your sister. Suddenly, all she could feel was the bones of your spine, more pronounced than they should be. It was a noticeable difference, and she knew that it likely felt more dramatic than it really was, considering the information the physio had given her, that this wasn’t that bad yet, that it was fixable. Still, your sister wanted to cry at how small you seemed against her. 
More than that, she wanted to cry that she hadn’t noticed this happening. 
You kept waiting for her to blow up. All the way to the locker room and to the car, all the way home, but she didn’t. She watched you carefully out of the corner of her eye, she carried your bag for you, and she insisted you drink an entire water bottle on the drive home. Alexia was worried, more than she was upset, and that was beginning to terrify you. 
She didn’t even really talk upon arriving home. She just set your bag down, looking around for Olga like the brunette would have all the answers to fix this. 
“Go shower, we can talk after, okay?” Alexia said over her shoulder, disappearing in the direction of the office Olga worked out of during the day. 
As you headed up the stairs, you wondered if the screen still slid out from your window as easily as it used to, when sneaking out was a bit of a habit. 
You wondered if your body could even take the jump down to the ground underneath your window. You wondered whether you even cared, if it meant that you’d get away from this conversation, escape the walls closing in around you.
Downstairs, Alexia was pacing a hole in the rug spread across the office floor. Olga was watching her march back and forth, waiting for her girlfriend to talk herself out, which she didn’t seem anywhere close to doing. 
“How could I miss this? Do I not pay enough attention? Is this my fault? Have I pushed her too hard? How long has this been going on? How did no one notice before now? What if-”
Olga stood, grabbing her girlfriend’s hands and putting her movements to a stop. “Amor, take a second. Relax. None of these questions need to be answered right now.” 
Alexia leaned almost imperceptibly into her girlfriend’s touch, desperate for anyone to tell her what to do here. 
“We need to talk to her. That’s where we start, and that is going to be hard, Ale. She probably doesn’t want to hear anything we have to say about this, and she might lash out, but you have to remember how much she must be hurting right now. You have to be patient, okay?” 
Alexia nodded her jaw tightening as her resolve strengthened. She’d be the most patient person in the world, if that’s what you needed. She’d do anything you needed her to, but the possibility that this wasn’t something that she could fix for you was terrifying her. She just wanted to help. 
When you came back downstairs after your shower, you knew you were in for an intervention. Ale and Olga were sitting on the couch next to each other, speaking in hushed tones. You approached them warily, sitting in the armchair across from the couch. 
Your sister took a deep breath, her eyes scanning over the piece of paper on the sofa next to her. It was a few notes that Pedro had given her, a few reminders she had for herself, and a few that Olga had added. 
Don’t get angry. She needs help, she doesn’t need your anger. 
Don’t push too hard, but don’t let her off with excuses.
 Be firm, but be kind. 
Don’t threaten to tell Mami, because she’ll just run. 
“I’m not mad.” Alexia started. Now that you were sure she wasn’t going to yell at you, you realized how much easier that would have been. You hated the concern on her face, the worry in her eyes. “You were looking at me earlier like I’d be mad at you, but I’m not mad.”
“Why would you be mad?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. Playing dumb always infuriated your sister, yet this time, she didn’t take the bait. 
“I talked to Pedro and Pere earlier. Pedro has some concerns, about you.” Your sister paused, looking at her girlfriend next to her, as if for reassurance. Olga nodded encouragingly, and Alexia straightened up. “I think you know what these concerns are, hermana.”
“I don’t.” You said quickly. “And I don’t appreciate you talking about me behind my back.” 
“You do.” Alexia said, still annoyingly calmly. 
“I really don’t, Alexia.” 
“Pequeña, please. I know that you aren’t okay. You don’t have to lie to me about that.” 
You wilted a little, eyes anywhere but on your sister, but she leaned forward, seeing an opportunity; a fracture in your walls. 
“I want you to be okay. I want you to get better, healthier.” Alexia said gently, her eyes flickering to the piece of paper in front of her every so often. It was a mix of her handwriting and Olga’s, though you couldn’t make out what it said. 
“I am better. I am healthier, Ale.” You argued weakly, finally looking at your sister. You half believed yourself, half knew that you were very far from healthy, the two conflicting sides waging war in your head. Would it be easier to admit defeat? To break down and let your sister fix you? You found that you didn’t really want to be fixed.
“Hermanita, this isn’t okay. You can’t keep going like this. It’s not safe.”
You shook your head defiantly, a single tear tracking down your cheek. “Alexia, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.”
You didn’t think about the times you’ve cried yourself to sleep after having no choice but to eat a full dinner. You didn’t think about the way everything is just a touch more exhausting, now. You couldn’t think about that, you wouldn’t. You were fine. Why couldn’t Alexia see that? 
She just stared at you, blinking rapidly. Fighting back tears, you realized with a start. Her hand gripped Olga’s tightly, and you couldn’t fight the wave of guilt that hit you like a truck. She was worried, and you knew she should be. Somewhere deep inside, you knew. And that was the most terrifying part. 
“Cariño, I am so worried. You aren’t okay, I don’t understand how you can’t see that. You are an athlete, you know you need to fuel your body in the right way. You know this isn’t normal. Can’t you admit that?”
You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, for the first time showing even a hint of emotion. It wasn’t anger, or sadness. It was fear. 
“I have it under control, Ale. I promise you, it’s under control.” Your voice wobbled, no confidence at all behind your words. Alexia shut her eyes tightly for a minute before blinking then open and looking at you in a much more intense way. 
“I don’t believe you.” 
You stood up, feeling a flare of anger surge through you. “I don’t care what you believe.” Moving to walk out the front door, though not sure where you were going, you froze at the sound of Alexia’s voice behind you. 
“You can leave, but we’re still going to have this conversation. I can wait, but the sooner we talk, the sooner you’ll be allowed back at training, and back on the team sheet.” 
You whirled around, hands balling into fists at your sides. “Since when am I off the team sheet?!” 
“Since today.” Alexia didn’t raise her voice to match yours, and she didn’t stand either. She remained sitting next to Olga, both of them looking at you so sympathetically, it made you want to sprint out of the house that instant. 
“How could you do that?” 
Alexia almost flinched at the genuinely betrayed tone of your voice, but she just shook her head. 
“I didn’t do anything, pequeña. The physios and Pere made this decision themselves, based off the information they have.” She replied, nodding towards the chair across from her again. “The only way you’re being allowed anywhere near training is if you talk.” 
“I don’t want to talk about this.” You snapped, throwing yourself down in the chair. 
“Well, we have to. I won’t watch you hurt yourself like this without saying anything.”
You flinched like she’d struck you. “I am not hurting myself, Alexia. I have it under control, it’s not dangerous, it’s not anything. It’s fine.” 
“You are hurting yourself. I don’t know how, but I know that you are. Whatever you are doing to make sure your body doesn’t gain weight is hurting you!” 
"You're being ridiculous, Alexia. Completely ridiculous." You spat back.
Nothing Alexia was saying was working. You remained just as defiant, just as frustrated. Nostrils flaring, hands clenched into fists, you refused to back down. 
Olga squeezed her girlfriend's hand, the blonde falling silent as she did so. 
“Pequeña, listen to me. We both love you so much. You are my sister, maybe not by blood, but in all the ways that count. And when you care about someone, it’s so hard to watch them go through something like this.”  
Olga’s voice was soft and gentle and somehow, the most threatening thing you’d heard. It was the way she looked at you, the way she spoke; like she knew what she was about to say would challenge you. 
“If this was anyone else doing what you’re doing, you’d have something to say. If this was a friend or a teammate, and you saw them doing this, you’d do something. Am I wrong?”
You found that you couldn’t lie, so you just shook your head. 
“Give yourself that same kindness. Give yourself that same love and care. You would get someone else help if they needed it, no matter what. Can you let us help you?”
Another tear ran down your cheek, your lip trembling as you fought to hold back your sobs. Only Olga’s hand in hers kept Alexia from leaping over the coffee table and pulling you into a hug. 
“I’m scared. I don’t want to.” You said finally. Your eyes fixed on Olga, refusing to look over at your sister and see the disappointment you knew was simmering. 
“But you need to. And you know you need to.” Olga said carefully. She watched as an array of emotions flashed across your face, until you finally landed on… resigned. 
“I… I don’t know where to start.” 
“That’s okay!” Alexia jumped in. “You don’t need to know. We can take it one step at a time. We’ll get through this, hermanita, I promise.” 
The way Alexia was talking made your stomach twist. There was no ‘we’ here. Alexia didn’t close her eyes when she got dressed in the morning, didn’t turn her back to the mirror before she showered. She didn’t have to come up with excuses to go to the bathroom after a big meal, she didn’t know exactly how to move her food around her plate to look like she’d eaten more than she had. Alexia loved you, and you had no doubt that this was hurting her, but there was no comparison to what you’d been putting yourself through. Alexia couldn’t fix this for you, couldn’t even really fix it with you. It was something you had to entirely be committed to, recovery, something that would take strength from the deepest parts of you. Alexia couldn’t promise that you’d get through it. It wasn’t up to her.
You didn’t say any of that to your sister. What good would that have done? Instead, you dropped your head into your hands, and tried to breathe. You still couldn’t quite believe this was happening, and a part of you wished you’d wake up and it would all be some horrible dream, and no one would actually know. Another part of you, though, felt like sobbing in relief that someone had finally noticed. 
Unbeknownst to you, Alexia and Olga were having a silent conversation. Alexia wanted to drag you into the kitchen and make you eat lunch, since she was absolutely sure that you hadn’t had breakfast. She wanted to talk, and talk some more, and find you a therapist, and call her Mami and tell her what was going on. She wanted to do every little thing she could think of, because she was sure if she tried hard enough, she could control this enough for you to be okay.
Olga knew better. She looked at you and could tell that you were barely restraining yourself from curling up into a ball and crying. She knew trying to make you eat a full meal in the way Alexia intended to right now would push you too hard. She knew that you needed time and space to process and breathe. The brunette could see how easily you’d be overwhelmed here, and it was this knowledge that had her firmly telling Alexia what she was to do. 
“Go upstairs and shower. I’ve got her.” She whispered, kissing Alexia’s cheek softly. 
Her girlfriend looked at her in confusion, both of them exchanging a few glances before Alexia gave in. 
“Please try to get her to eat something.” The blonde whispered back, standing and beginning to head upstairs. She paused at your chair, opening her mouth to say something before thinking better of it. Instead, she just kissed the crown of your head and headed upstairs. 
Only once Olga heard the shower turn on upstairs did she finally move, walking around the coffee table and crouching in front of you. 
“Nena?” She called softly. 
You looked up apprehensively. 
“What do you need right now? You tell me, and that’s what we’ll do.” 
Control. Olga was giving you control, but you didn’t know what to do with it. You felt overwhelmingly lost, not even sure if you could put one foot in front of the other without someone telling you how to. 
“I… don’t know.” You replied, shrugging your shoulders. 
“That’s okay.” Olga assured you. “We don’t have to talk any more today, but I’d like you to try to eat something. It doesn’t have to be big, or a whole meal, but something. Is there anything you’d like?” 
No, there wasn’t, you wanted to snap. That was part of the problem. Instead of snapping, though, you found yourself thinking. “Protein shake?” You requested shakily. 
Olga nodded, smiling proudly at you. “Protein shake and a piece of toast, I think.” 
You found yourself agreeing, somehow, rising from your chair and following Olga into the kitchen. You tried to think of what would be worse; eating or talking. Both seemed like pretty abysmal choices, but Olga set your small meal down in front of you, and you knew there wasn’t really a choice. As quickly as it had been handed over to you, you felt the control slipping out of your grasp. The shower turned off upstairs, and you reached for the glass, bracing yourself for everything you were about to feel, and everything Alexia was probably about to say.
back in my two parter era. let me know what you all think :)
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maysileeewrites · 26 days
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home is wherever i'm with you
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modern boyfriend!Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!reader
Synopsis: After a long, stressful day of studying for your upcoming exams, Jacaerys knows a way or two to help you unwind and relax … (modern AU!)
word count: 2k (she's a shortie!) || Jacaerys masterlist 
c.w.: fluff; established relationship; tooth-rotting fluff; dorks in love; bantering; Jace is down bad for the reader
AN: I'm back! I know I've been mia for a while now, and to be honest, I haven't been writing all that much lately ... but anyways, please enjoy this tooth-rotting, sickeningly sweet Jacaerys fluff!! And no, I was definitely not inspired to write this due to my own exam stress ...
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You sigh, tiredly rubbing at your eyes, before looking back down at your laptop screen and trying to concentrate on the essay you’re reading again. 
Trying, and failing. 
You’re not quite how often you’ve already read this paragraph on the years following Aegon’s conquest, without really comprehending and taking in any of the information the paragraph provides. Theoretically, you already know all of that - you’ve been studying for your end of term history exams for what feels like an eternity already. 
But, afraid of failing the exam, you decided on revising today and tomorrow, before the exam will inevitably take place on Friday. How has time slipped away so much that already, that the exam isn’t even two whole days away from now? 
A soft, tentative knock on your room’s door draws you out of your thoughts, and without looking up, you call out: „Yes?“ 
Your boyfriend enters the room, stopping mid stride when he sees you behind your desk, head between your hands, laptop and open history textbooks surrounding you. 
„Just wanted to say that dinner was ready- you’re still studying, darling?“ 
„Yes!“, you snap, with much more venom behind the word than you’d intended. 
You close your eyes, sighing. „Sorry. I didn’t - I’m just so stressed-“
„Well, no more studying for today“, Jace says and you can hear him stepping closer. When you open your eyes again, he’s gently closing your laptop and already reaching for one of your textbooks, when you reach out with your hand, grabbing his and preventing him from doing anything else. 
„Hey stop that! I was annotating that essay and if you’re the reason all my annotations are gone, I’m going to kill-“
„Yes, I love you too, darling“, Jace says, laughing lightly. 
You shake your head in frustration. „This isn’t funny Jace, I need to study for this exam, otherwise I’m going to fail! And then - and then they’re going to drop me and then what am I going to do?“
Jace’s eyes widen at your words and you bite down hard on your lip, immediately wishing that you could take your words back, or at least the venom in them.
But before you can say anything else, Jace leans down towards you, reaching for your right hand and gently interlacing your fingers together.
„Okay, first of all - you’re not going to fail, you’re way too smart for that. And second - what you need is to take a break and breathe. I know how important that exam is for you, but running yourself ragged, studying all day long is only going to drain all your energy. Please, love, you need to take a break, even if it’s just a short one.“ 
His tone has turned soft and pleading and when you feel the gentle squeeze of his hand, you can’t resist the warm, light feeling spreading inside you and slowly taking over your panicked and nervous state. 
„I hate it when you make sense“, you mumble, trying to fake-glare at him, but when your eyes find Jacaerys’ dark brown ones, and see the love and concern for you in them, your lips inevitably curve up into a smile. 
Jace just smirks, before leaning in closer towards you and gently pressing his lips to you. 
You close your eyes, leaning forward into the kiss and enjoying the sensation of Jacaerys’ soft lips moving against yours, making you forgot all your fears and worries about the exam, if only for the moment. 
But just when you move to wind your arms around his neck, Jacaerys breaks the kiss, smirking when you sigh frustratedly. 
„Dinner first“, he says firmly, standing up and taking your hands in his. He tugs on them, but you’re not ready to give in just yet. 
„Oh come on, don’t be such a-“
„Caring and loving boyfriend?“, Jacaerys says, interrupting you with a knowing smirk. 
You nod, feeling guilty for the moody and irritated way you’ve behaved earlier - and probably the last few days as well. „Yes - sorry I’ve been behaving so - so … like - like this lately …“ 
Jacaerys’ expression softens and he gently squeezes your hand. „You don’t have to apologize, love, not for that-“
„No“, you quickly interrupt him, standing up as well, and freeing one of your hands from his grasp, only to gently tuck a stray curl of his dark hair out of his face. „I want to. I can only imagine that I haven’t been easy to be around lately, and you haven’t even said a word and-“
Jacaerys interrupts you by leaning forward and kissing you. 
The kiss is soft and gentle, and once again over way too soon. 
Breaking the kiss, Jacaerys leans his forehead against yours, smiling softly. „I love you so fucking much, darling.“ 
You feel a familiar, fluttering sensation, like butterflies in your stomach. Jacaerys does that to you, he’s always had the ability to turn you to mush, with just a few heartfelt words, accompanied by soft, loving glances. 
„I love you, Jace“, you say, your breath hitching. 
You want to say more, to put into words just how much you love him, but words don’t feel adequate enough to describe the current of emotions threatening to overwhelm you, and so instead, you lean forward and press your lips to his again, hoping to convey all your emotions with the kiss. 
As you kiss him, your hands find their way into his hair, tangling themselves in his dark curls. But just when you begin tugging at his hair the way you know Jace enjoys, he breaks away from you again, panting slightly. 
„Later“, he promises you with a satisfied smile when you whine slightly as he steps away from you, putting a bit of distance between you two again. „Dinner first - I made your favorite.“ 
That convinces you, as he most likely knew it would. 
You follow him into the kitchen of the flat you two have been living in together for almost a year now, but stop short when your gaze falls on the laid-out kitchen table. 
Jacaerys hasn’t just cooked your favorite meal, you think, heart filling with love for the boy who holds your heart in the palm of his hand. He’s prepared you a candlelight dinner - the whole kitchen is aglow with the soft light of the different candles he’s lit, and he’s even decorated the table with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. There’s a bottle of your favorite wine as well as a box of your favorite chocolates. 
„You’re the best“, you say breathlessly and overcome with emotions, moving over to Jacaerys and hugging him from behind. Your hands move around his waist, coming to rest on his stomach, and you rest your head in the crook of his neck. 
Jacaerys’ hands come to rest upon yours and he turns his head, catching your gaze. „Only the best for my favorite girl“, he says, smiling smugly when he sees you rolling your eyes at his words. 
„You’re such a dork!“ 
„Yes, but that never bothered you, did it?“
You laugh, stealing a kiss from him, before forcing yourself to step away from him and moving towards the kitchen table. Really, you could’ve stayed like this with Jacaerys forever, soaking in his comforting presence, but now that your mind isn’t fixated on Aegon’s conquest and other historical events anymore, you can acknowledge that you really are quite hungry. 
And Jacaerys is a great cook and he’s made you your favorite meal. Your boyfriend really is the best. 
So, you pour each of you a glass of wine, before sitting down and impatiently waiting for Jacaerys to sit down next to you, raising your glass. 
„To the best boyfriend there is“, you say with a stupidly lovesick smile on your face, clinking your glass against his. 
„Now who’s the dork?“, Jacaerys teases you, before taking a swig from his wine glass. 
In reply, you only roll your eyes again, before setting the wine glass down again and reaching for the cutlery. 
„Wait“, Jacaerys says, just when you’re about to dig in. 
You raise your eyebrows in confusion as you watch him pick up his phone and opening the camera application, setting it to selfie-mode, leaning in towards you. 
„For Helaena“, Jacaerys says, laughing lightly, when he notices your confused expression. „As proof that I actually got you to sit down and eat something." 
You roll your eyes, but still, you feel a certain warmth at his words. Helaena isn’t just Jacaerys’ cousin, but one of your best friends - actually, it was her that introduced you two to each other, years ago, when you were still in high school. The rest is history. 
The smile on your lips is warm and genuine as you lean your head onto Jacaerys’ shoulder, looking at the camera. But then, just when Jacaerys taps on his phone to take a photo, you quickly turn your head, planting a soft kiss on his cheek, which causes Jacaerys to smile widely. 
You’re pretty sure that your smile matches Jacaerys’ as he shows you the photo - both of you with your eyes closed, smiling stupidly wide. 
„Perfect“, you whisper, stealing another quick kiss from your boyfriend, before finally digging into your food. 
„Mhm“, you sigh with your eyes closed, after tasting your food. „Delicious, as always.“ 
Jacaerys smiles and you can see his cheeks turning rather pink, causing the butterflies in your stomach to return as well. It seems that no matter how long you’ve known him, no matter how long you’ve been together, his effect on you will never change. And, seemingly, neither will yours on him. 
As you continue to eat dinner and sip your wine, you tell each other about your day. As always, there’s a lot of laughing and bantering involved, especially as you tell Jacaerys about your frustration with one of the essays you’ve read today. 
Throughout dinner, the warm, exhilarating and slightly dizzying feeling in you only seems to grow, as do the butterflies in your stomach. 
Jacaerys keeps finding small ways to touch you - a quick kiss pressed to your cheek here, a soft squeeze of your hand there, his arms around your shoulders. You gravitate towards him, leaning into his touch, as you always do. 
When he shows you Helaena’s reply to the picture of you two he sent her, your head is resting on the crook of his neck, his arms around your waist. By this point, you’ve both finished eating, but neither of you seems ready to get up from the table just yet. 
You dorks, Helaena has written. But glad you’ve managed to get Y/N out of her study cave.
„Hey!“, you say in protest to the term study cave, causing Jacaerys to laugh. 
Just then, Helaena’s next message appears on his phone screen. I know you’re reading this, Y/N. You know exactly what I mean by study cave. And you also know that breaks are important! 
„Yes, mum“, you say, sighing quietly, which only causes Jace to laugh again. 
„She’s just worried about you“, he says, after typing out a quick reply to Helaena, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. 
You sigh, this time much more guiltily. „I know …“ 
„And she’s right“, Jacaerys replies, „breaks - and relaxation are important …“ 
You’re not quite sure whether he’s still talking about Helaena’s message. Looking up at him, and seeing the darkened expression in his brown eyes, full of yearning, you know that he’s not talking about her messages anymore. 
The butterflies in your stomach are back in full force, and when you speak again, your voice comes out much more squeakily than you’d intended it to. „You think I need to relax more?“ 
There’s an amused glint in his eyes now, as Jace nods. „Yes - and I know exactly how we can accomplish that …“ 
„Oh?“ 
Then, his lips are on yours, the kiss hot and bruising and demanding.
You don't think about your exam for the rest of the night.
Not even once.
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tagging: @earth4angels (sorry for the long wait!)
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jobean12-blog · 1 month
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Mission Accomplished
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader
Word Count: 4,157
Summary: You've had a crush on Bucky from the moment you met and now that Sam has the two of you going on a mission together you're not sure how to handle it. Sure you've had casual conversastions before and hung out as a group but all this one on one time... what could possibly go wrong? Or maybe right?
Author's Note: I love a sweet and slightly shy, soft Bucky! The details of the mission are not really important here so I just have them flying from some lovely hidden away location to NYC for some sneakin' around to get info. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰
Warnings: shy and sweet Bucky, awkwardness from both characters haha, but lots of fun, flirting, tension, fluff, implied smut
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You’re alone in the elevator, having just left your meeting with Sam, when Bucky steps inside just as the doors are closing.
Your eyes meet and your breath catches in your throat, the weighted silence becoming awkward.
You open your mouth to say something but then stop, blinking away the words before leaning heavily against the wall.
The damn elevator is moving so slowly.
Finally, the doors open and Bucky gestures for you to go first. Instead, you nearly shout at him, “looks like we’re going on a mission together.”
“Yeah,” he says with a small smile.
“I’m excited, I’ve never been to the city before.”
He rubs the back of his neck and shuffles his feet. “It’s definitely somethin’.”
“Should I meet you at the Quinjet tomorrow morning? Or do we need to talk about anything before then?”
“I think that’s fine,” he answers, still holding the doors of the elevator open.
It starts to ding, and you register the sound with a nervous giggle and step out.
“It’s fine if we just meet at the Quinjet or before?” You ask for clarification.
“Um,” he starts. “It should be…”
“I don’t mind…” you begin at the same time.
“Sorry,” you whisper, “I interrupted. Go ahead.”
“We can just meet at the Quinjet,” he says as he shoves his hands into his jean pockets and starts to walk down the hallway.
“That sounds good,” you tell him. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”
“Yeah, see you in the mornin’.”
He smiles, his gaze lingering before he turns around the next corner.
“Great,” you mutter to yourself. “Now he really thinks you’re a bumbling idiot.”
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Your feet shuffle along the ramp onto the Quinjet and you squint against the early morning sun that’s just starting to rise above the top of the mountains in the distance.
Fumbling with your bag you head toward the seats, finding Bucky already inside and waiting. He stands and reaches for your bag.
“Hey,” he says quietly.
“Hi,” you answer back, staring.
He secures your bag and sits back down. You glance around at all the empty seats and then sit right down next to him.
“Do you mind if I sit here?” you ask. “I’m a nervous flyer.”
With a smile he says, “no doll. That’s fine.”
You watch him wipe the palms of his hands on his pants.
The door to the Quinjet closes and you shift in your seat, toying with the seatbelt and growing more frustrated with every passing second.
The engines ignite and you make a squeaking sound, finally deciding to just try and tie the seatbelt rope in a knot.
Bucky places his hand over yours. “Let me help?”
You nod and try to slow your breathing as his hands work smoothly to undo your mess and clip the belt then tighten it.
“There. Comfortable?”
“Yeah, perfect. Thanks.”
You feel the jet start to move, and you clasp your hands together in your lap. You can feel his eyes on you but for fear of further embarrassment you keep your face forward and try not to sweat too much.
“What did you bring for lunch?” he asks.
“What?”
“Lunch. What did you bring for the ride?”
“Were we supposed to bring lunch?” you ask wide eyed.
He laughs. “It’s not a long ride but I’m always hungry so I brought peanut butter and jelly and a bagel. Plenty to share.”
“That’s good,” you say with a smile. “And thanks. It’s a good thing one of us is prepared.”
“When it comes to food yeah, otherwise, I’m leaving that up to you.”
You smile. “Don’t worry. As far as the mission goes I know exactly what we need to do.”
“Good. And I’ll show you all the best places to eat.”
With a laugh you let out an exhale and realize you’re already up in the air and cruising. You give him a thankful look and smile.
He winks and then settles back in his seat.
Eventually, after some light conversation, you drift off to sleep, slowly slanting toward Bucky until your head is resting on his shoulder.
His movements are soft and easy as he drops lower, so your neck isn’t so stretched out and he leans back to close his eyes.
You wake to the jerking of the jet and the feeling of weightlessness in your stomach as you start to make your descent. You’re awkwardly twisted in your seat but somehow so comfortable. The body next to you is warm and firm and smells so good.
With a jolt you straighten and disentangle yourself from around Bucky’s metal arm. You then notice your leg is hitched over his thigh.
Trying not to wake him you remove the rest of your limbs from his body and rub a hand over your face. He’s still quietly breathing, eyes closed and long lashes fluttering when you start to study every feature of his face up close.
His hair is mussed at the back, and the front, normally pulled upward, now falls over his forehead, shiny and soft. His sharp jaw is covered in a dark shadow, highlighted every now and then by patches of gray that travel down his strong neck.
And there, on his shoulder, is a wet patch of drool covering his leather jacket.
You anxiously wipe at your face and search for something to wipe it off with. Your panicky movements jostle him enough that his eyes flash open only to find your face inches from his.
You smile with a whispered, “hi.”   
He blinks a few times before his blue eyes widen, his gaze moving from yours to the spot on his shoulder where you had been wiping.
“I’m sorry about that,” you mumble. “Apparently you’re very comfortable.”
He grins. “Good to know.”
“I guess I dozed off too. Sorry about that doll. I was trying to stay awake and keep you company in case the trip got bumpy.”
“Oh my gosh, don’t be sorry. You looked adora…”
You stop yourself, snapping your mouth shut and then looking down at your seatbelt.
“Think you can help me out of this I need to stretch.”
“Not sure that’s a good idea…” he starts as the jet hits another patch of turbulence.
You ignore his warning and start to work on your seatbelt, opening it with minimal effort and trying to stand. The moment you do your body is thrown off balance and you nearly fall into his lap.
He wraps a strong arm around your waist and holds you close to his chest.
“I got you,” he says with a mischievous smile.
“I shouldn’t have gotten up,” you sigh. “I’m…”
“Nah, don’t worry. I get it. I never liked flying much myself. I’ve just done it so much now I guess I’ve gotten used to it.”
The sincerity in his words and tone make you melt against him and instead of moving back to your seat you rest your head on his shoulder.
“You’re a comfier seatbelt anyway,” you say quietly.
You can feel his eyes on you, but you keep your own on the wall across, afraid of what he’ll see written all over your face.
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Once you’re out of the jet and into the fresh air you breathe deeply, taking in all the sights and sounds of the city. Bucky leads you to a small hotel on the upper west side of Manhattan, opening and holding the door for you.
The clerk greets you warmly and asks for your names.
“Separate rooms?” he asks with a questioning look.
You clear your throat and rush out with, “we’re here for business.”
The clerk nods and hands you your keys. You follow Bucky to the elevator, wincing inwardly when you remember your last encounter in one of these machines.
But this time the silence is more comfortable and when you exit Bucky points down the hallway.
“I’m right down here.”
“Looks like I’m next door,” you say. “I’m gonna freshen up.”
“Ok,” he says and watches until you unlock your door and get safely inside.
You fall against it and drop your head along the hard wood, groaning. You’d been on this mission for less than half a day and you’d already drooled on him, practically groped him, and threw yourself in his lap.
“Fucking hell,” you grumble and shuffle toward the bed, falling headfirst onto the pillows.
When you awake with a stretch you realize it’s only been an hour, but your stomach grumbles and you contemplate your food choices.
Before falling asleep you had managed to discard your clothes and don the soft hotel robe hanging in the closet. Now, as you tighten the knot at your waist you peer out into the hallway and hope there are vending machines near the ice machine.
It’s eerily quiet. Not even the sound of a television coming from a nearby room.
You head down the hallway.
“Doll?”
You let out a squeal of surprise in the quiet, the shrill sound echoing off the walls.
You turn and say, far too brightly and loudly, “HI!”
“What are you up to? I was just grabbing something to eat. Didn’t bring any snacks, remember?”
“Snacks?” he repeats, looking around the hallway before his eyes linger on your robe.
“From the vending machine,” you chirp as you lean casually against the wall. “Hungry?”
“What were you gonna get? Doritos?”
A pop of color stains his cheeks and a hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his lips.
“Maybe an energy bar?” you muse.
“What about half a peanut butter and jelly?” he offers.
“What no bagel left?”
He dips his head and rubs his hand along the back of his neck.
“Might have eaten that when you feel asleep on the jet.”
Your head falls back with a trill of laughter, and it makes his stomach flip.
“I’d love some pb and j. Thanks.”
“Come on,” he says and steps backward toward his room.
After you stuff the half a sandwich in your mouth, Bucky eyes you suspiciously.
“That definitely wasn’t enough to eat. We have to get you more food. And me too.”
He rubs his belly and stretches, the motion lifting the hem of his henley and exposing the waistband of his boxers and the dark trail of hair that disappears beneath.
“Food…right?” you whisper.
“Are you still hungry?” he asks, oblivious to your ogling.
“Starved,” you say with a harsh swallow.
After excusing yourself back to your room you to change you emerge ready to eat. The air is cooler now and you close your eyes, grateful for the refreshing feeling on your skin.
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You take in as much of the city as you can while Bucky leads you with confidence down the street. You reach the corner and wait for the signal to walk. When the light changes, the crowd moves and you feel the press of his palm on the small of your back, urging you forward.
The sensation sends a shiver down your spine and when you reach the other side of the street he stops and gives you a concerned look.
“Are you cold?” he asks and starts to shrug off his jacket.
You’re anything but, however, there is no way you would ever turn down his jacket.
“A little. Guess I wasn’t expecting it to cool off so much.”
“Here,” he says and drapes his jacket over your shoulders. “Better?”
“Much,” you say, snuggling into his warmth and smell. “But won’t you be cold?”
“Nah, I’m like a walking heater,” he promises with a smile.
You continue down the sidewalk, now truly oblivious to all else other than the occasional brush of his shoulder and the feel of his jacket wrapped around you.
His voices pulls you from your trance and you finally register what he’s saying as you look up and see the iconic edifice of the American Museum of Natural History.
“Oh my god,” you say and stop dead in your tracks.
“Pretty cool right.”
You rush toward it, grabbing for your phone.
“Will you take a picture of me?”
You’re still trying to find your phone when you ask him and he laughs, pulling out his own.
“I’ve got mine. I’ll take it and send it to you.”
A sea of tourists rush by before he’s able to open the app and snap a picture but after he does the expression on his face is a little…charmed.
“Got it,” he says, turning the phone to show you. “Came great.”
You squeal in happiness. “Ok, now you come here.”
He stands next to you, and you take his phone. “Let’s get one together.”
“But…” he starts. “Your arms aren’t long enough!”
“Nah, I’ve got this! Just bend down a little and I’ll just…”
You start to maneuver closer to him, your heads almost touching.
“I’m being such a tourist right now,” he grumbles playfully.
“I promise I won’t tell anyone, “You giggle.
He takes the phone from your hand with a smile and holds your gaze for a fraction of a second, clearing his throat.
“Holding you to that doll.”
It takes a few tries to get the angle right but when you do he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you in tight, snapping the pic.
He looks at the photo then turns the screen so you can see it. It’s a great picture. You’re both smiling and cozy.
“What’s your number?” he asks.
You recite it and watch as he types. In your pocket your phone buzzes and you chime, “ah there it is!”
You try not to smile too widely at the photo or the fact that Bucky seems to be smiling just as much as he looks at it one more time.
The smell of something good starts to fill your senses as you continue walking down 81st street and when you reach another corner, Bucky stops at the hot dog stand there.
“Always go to the one with the longest line,” he says.
You try to wait patiently but he notices your hopping feet and wiggly fingers.
“Don’t worry doll, it’ll be worth it. I promise.”
Once you have your hot dog in hand you pull him away from the cart and onto a bench under the shade of trees.
You moan around the first bite. “Bucky…oh my god.”
Thankfully, you’re so engrossed in the joy of your street dog that you don’t notice the way he’s staring at your lips, his own parted with his sharp inhale. Your tongue darts out to lick the corner of your mouth and he nearly chokes.
“You ok,” you ask, forgetting about the food.
He nods and holds up his hand, motioning for the bottle of water you bought. You open it and hand it over, watching him take a long drink and focus on the way the muscles in his neck shift with each swallow.
“Yeah, all good,” he sighs, next stealing the napkin from between your fingers.
“So, you like it huh?”
“Yeah,” you say with grin. “Think I need another.”
On the way back to the hotel you discuss the mission and go over your plan for the next few days. You’re mostly there to collect information and be covert so other than being in the right places and the right times you’ll be free to explore.
You point out every landmark, asking questions and hanging on his every word. When you reach the door of the hotel he holds it open for you once more and you realize he’s been quiet the last few blocks as you’ve rambled on.
“Shit,” you mutter. “You must think I’m so weird.”
He smiles and follows you in.
“Weird, yes but weird is good. I like your energy, and I think you’re pretty amazing.”
Before you can respond, the elevator dings and a crowd of people file out. He walks you to your door and you shrug his jacket from your shoulders, hanging over his and waiting until his arms are through before you smooth the leather down his chest and fix the collar.
He sucks in a breath, and you wait, worrying you’ve crossed a line.
“Thanks for getting me dinner,” you whisper.
“Anytime doll face.” A small smile tilts his lips upward as his eyes search yours.
Your hands still linger at his collar, and he takes your wrists, securing your hands around his neck.
This time you gasp and the faint scent of him hangs in the air, leather, and warm spice. You lean in slowly, and he does too, making the space between you disappear. His nose brushes the edge of yours and you can feel his breath across your lips.
“Are you going to kiss me Bucky?”
His chest is pressed against yours and you feel his heavy breathing. He pulls away just enough to look you in the eyes.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to stop,” he murmurs.
“I wouldn’t want you to…I’ve thought about this. A lot.”
Your confession makes his brows hit his hairline.
You continue. “I always thought this would just be a crush. But now, spending time with you, I feel like I’m going a bit crazy…in a good way.”
When you look up and meet his wide eyes you groan. “And I’ve said too much and totally freaked you out.”
Your head drops but his fingers catch your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his soft expression.
“No doll, you haven’t. I’m just not used to any of it.”
“I can’t believe that” you smile. “You must have girls falling all over you.”
He shakes his head with a huff of a laugh. “Not really and uh…well, it’s been a while…since I’ve done this.”
He steps back and gives you a sheepish look. “So, if you’re really interested, you’ll have to be patient with me. I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing.”  
His admission is endearing, and you give him a reassuring smile before leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth.
“You’re worth the wait Bucky.”
You turn and with one last smile, close your door softly and once again collapse on the bed.
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The next day you meet Bucky in the hallway, ready to tackle the day and get things done. The brightly shining sun brings plenty of warmth and you notice Bucky rolling up his sleeves as you walk toward your destination.
While you’re admiring his forearms, both metal and flesh, you nearly run into the crowd in front of you. He grabs your arm and pulls you back just in time, against his chest, and you exhale before sharply inhaling the same breath at the feel of him so close.
“You ok?” he asks softly against the shell of your ear.
“Yeah,” you answer. “Sorry. Was just lost in thought.”
He nods in understanding and steers you safely through the crowd. He stays close, his arm hanging at his side and his knuckles occasionally brushing yours. You assume it’s accidental and try not to react as goosebumps spread along your skin. But by the third and fourth time, you begin to wonder.
His pinky extends and caresses yours, and every nerve in your body seems to ignite, beginning at where you skin touches and stopping at your toes. You sway on your feet and your stomach erupts in butterflies.
The more time you spend near each other, the more he seems to unwind, and his wordless flirtation slowly builds throughout the day.
You want to scream at him that he knows exactly what he’s doing but instead you go with it and make sure he knows you’re receptive.
When you’re on the subway back to the hotel, the train rocks back and forth as you move through a darkened tunnel. Your body sways into him and he grabs your hip, holding your back to his chest.
You can feel the flex of his fingers against your skin and the warmth of them through your shirt. By the time the train reaches the station you’re breathing rapidly and walking unsteadily as he guides your toward the train doors and steps behind you.
His large hand remains at your waist, and he presses into you, allowing you to feel him, every inch.
Back at the hotel, your skin is burning and your body aches and you’re sure you can see the same desperation reflected in his eyes.
But instead of making a move he simply takes your hand and lifts it to his lips, watching you over your knuckles and kissing each of them.
He looks like he wants to say something and even inches forward before letting out a nervous exhale and waiting for you to go inside.
It’s torture to feel this way, knowing you’re not dreaming that he wants you but also knowing he’s scared. And besides that, the entire day of quiet foreplay left you needy.
You opt for a relaxing bath which doesn’t relax you at all and when you spread your warm body out on the bed the urge to slip your hand between your legs is too great. Your mind immediately fills with thoughts of how his calloused fingers would feel on your skin, so sensitive and wet.
You know he’s only on the other side of the wall and you think you can hear him talking on the phone, his voice faint but it’s enough for you to pretend.
The swift movement of your fingers along with your wild imagination is enough to send you over the edge with a cry of his name.
It’s only when your breathing evens out that you notice how quiet it seems, and you realize that you might have been too loud.
A knock at your door makes you yelp in surprise, and you hear Bucky’s voice on the other side.
“It’s just me doll.”
On shaky legs you walk to the door and open it only enough to peek out at him. You don’t say anything, and he asks, “everything ok?”
“Yeah, sure, why wouldn’t it be?” you answer, still quite breathless.
“It’s just…I heard…I thought? Did you call my name?”
Your eyes widen and your mouth hangs open.
He taps his ear with a sideways smile. “Super soldier hearing.”
“Well. No. I mean, yes? Maybe. I think I was dreaming?”
He waits for you to finish and then gently pushes on the door.
“Are you gonna let me in?” he asks.
You hold his stare, your heart hammering against your rib cage.
“Are you going to kiss me this time?”
Something in his eyes answers your question and you let go of the door, allowing him to slip inside and shut it.
You lean against it, his hand still pressed to the wood above your head as the other joins it, effectively caging you in.
He tilts his head, wearing a smile that gently pulls at his lips.
“What were you really doing in here?” he asks.
Your gaze moves from his lips to his eyes and every coherent thought leaves your head. You stare and let your tongue trace the outline of your mouth.
“Answer me,” he demands quietly.
“I was thinking of you.”
He bends to kiss your neck softly, his lips tracing the column of your throat before meeting just below your ear to whisper, “that’s it?”
“And touching myself.”
He inhales sharply through his nose, exhaling your name and dropping his hands to take your face between them. He drags his nose along your jaw and then his lips hover just above yours.
He stills and as much as you know he wants this you know his insecurities are hard to overcome.
You slide your hands up his chest, feeling the strong muscles flex beneath your fingers, and curl your hands around the back of his neck.
“I came with your name on my lips,” you whisper, keeping your eyes on his.
It’s all he needs, and he lets a low growl rumble through his chest before he closes the distance and kisses you. Your lips slide over his and you pull his bottom lip between your teeth, making him groan.
Your fingers dig into his hair as his hands slide along the curve of your waist to your back, clutching and bringing you impossibly close.
The kiss grows deeper, and you let out tiny little gasps as he tastes you, barely registering what you’re saying before, “please, Bucky, escapes.
“Please what?” he says, his lips sliding to your ear, softly kissing the skin beneath. “Anything.”
“Just…kiss me.”
He smiles against your lips. “Pretty sure that’s exactly what I was doing doll face.”
“Touch me,” you beg, taking his metal hand and sliding it down between your breasts.
“You can’t be real,” he breathes out.
You kiss his neck, lifting your lips to his earlobe and nibbling it before whispering, “I am and I’m all yours.”
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935 notes · View notes
lionizingheathen · 1 month
Note
umm face riding with harry?? pleaseee
Yeah, no problem
Harry Potter x fem!reader
Warnings: Smut, oral sex reader receiving, face riding
"You should ride my face." You choked on your own breath for a moment before looking over at your boyfriend, who was tossing around an old ball like he hadn't just said something so forward... He'd gotten more forward after the war, after he was done with all the uncertainty and chaos but Merlin, you'd never be used to it.
"Pardon me?" You asked, your voice breaking over the words as he grinned over at you, seeming equal parts eager and concerned, like he was worried he'd said something wrong, which was not at all the case.
"You... Sorry, is that not something you're interested in?" He asked, tossing the ball aside as he turned towards you, resting his hand on your thigh. You cleared your throat, squeezing your thighs together as you felt your cunt throb at his touch.... Of course you wanted to ride his face, who wouldn't?
"No, i mean... Of course it is I just didn't expect you to be so candid... most people don't just say 'you should ride my face', they beat around the bush a little." You said, feeling a little shaky as you looked at him. All he did was sit up and nod a little, clearing his throat as he pulled his hand away from you.
You missed his touch the second it was gone.
"Normally I would too but I... I've been thinking about it a lot." "About you a lot, and I just... Please ride my face?"
"What if I crush you?" You asked, a question that you knew was stupid the second you looked at his face and saw his confused expression - you hadn't meant to confuse him, all you were saying was what if you fucking killed him? You'd be killing the savior of the wizarding world, that sounded like a terrible thing!
"Huh?" He asked, and you sighed, throwing your hands up before you covered your face with them, embarrassed that you were even thinking about that.
You wanted to disappear.
"I don't want to smother you! That would be mortifying." You said, your tone coming out far more defensive than you had intended. Harry chuckled, shaking his head as he looked at you, clearly not even slightly worried about that.
"I'm a big boy, Y/N. I can handle myself." He laid on his back, gesturing you over with a wide smile. "Now c'mere... Ride my face." You snorted, rolling your eyes even as you sat up.
Eager boy.
"I never said yes." He paused then, looking at you expectantly.
"Well...?" He asked, trailing off as you sighed, nodding before you slipped your panties off, seeing the hungry expression on his face.
Down, boy.
"If we do this, and you can't breathe-." He cut you off, waving you off like your concerns for his health were unimportant, but in your opinion they were very important... He needed to listen.
"Obviously I will tell you, now come here, I can't wait much longer." He insisted, and you chuckled, shaking your head even as you swung your thigh over his head, positioning your cunt over his face, pausing before you settled down.
"You're so needy." You said, and he nodded, looking up without any shame... God, he wasn't paying attention to a single word out of your mouth, was he?
"Only because you're fit as hell." He mumbled, bringing his hands up so that he could use his thumbs to spread you open. God, don't stare... "That's like... Part of it." You snorted, shaking your head.
Cute.
"Part of it? Very eloquent, Potter." You said, and he rolled his eyes, finally meeting yours before he spoke.
"Shut up."
"Funny, pretty sure you'll be the one doing-." He pulled you down suddenly, making you let out a gasp as he lapped his tongue over your cunt. You gripped onto the headboard and sighed. "That... Bloody hell..." You mumbled, feeling his fingers dig into your thighs as he buried his tongue inside you, his nose bumping against your clit as you moved your cunt against him.
Oh god...
"Mmm..." Your head was already fucking spinning and he'd hardly even started.
"Oh, that feels... So good." Glasses. "Your glasses, hold on... Hold on, Harry." You breathed, and he groaned when he pulled away, looking at you like you'd committed a crime against him.
Relax, pretty boy.
"I don't care-." You cut him off and carefully removed them from his face, shaking your head. It was cute that he was so eager, but the last thing you needed was any looks from anyone if he showed up to work tomorrow with broken glasses.
"I do. I don't want to explain why there's tape on them tomorrow." You said, and he snorted, shaking his head like it was a non-issue was he wrapped his arms around your thighs.
"I know how to fix my glasses, Y/N." Obviously, but you didn't want to give him a reason why he had to do that... You weren't really in the market of making someone blind.
"Either way." You set them on the nightstand before settling over him again. "There. Now you can go." You said, and he rolled his eyes, but nodded at you.
"Thank you." Perfect.
"So polite..." He lapped his tongue over you frantically, like he was trying to map your cunt and remember each and every fold, every inch from taste alone... God, was there anything he wasn't good at? "Just like that, yes, just like that." You whined, feeling his tongue trace over your clit.
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.
"Mmm... Suck my clit, good boy..." You mumbled, grinding down on his face with a sigh, feeling shivers through your whole body... It was no wonder he was good at this, he was already great at giving head and that was something you knew.
"Look so perfect under me... I..." You gasped, feeling a hand leave your thigh, but you didn't think much of it, you were too lost in the feeling of his tongue against you, how he sucked on your clit and moaned like he was in heaven.
Fuck...
"Harry... Please..." You weren't even sure what you were asking for, all you knew was that your orgasm was coming fast, and Harry was too lost in his own world to notice... Or he didn't care and intended to work you right past it, which wouldn't surprise you.
"Close... Getting close." You whined, and Harry nodded under you, letting out a whimper of his own, but you weren't sure why... Hell, you couldn't bring yourself to care, all you knew was that you were gonna cum, and Harry wanted you to.
Really, that was all it took to send you over the edge as you shivered against his face, reaching down to tug his hair as you let out long moans of his name... Fuck, you were seeing stars, and he was not stopping.
"Shitshitshit..." You slumped against the wall, shivering as his tongue continued to move before you slipped off of him and gently pried his face from between your legs, wiping his mouth with your thumb. "Jesus Christ, Potter." You mumbled, watching as he quickly sat up, walking away from you.
Huh?
"What?" He asked, sounding worried, and you were quick to shake your head. All you meant by that was that he made you feel so fucking good.
He reappeared and you grinned, shaking your head as you sat up to meet him with a kiss.
"Nothing... You are marvelous, sweet boy." You said, ruffling your fingers through his hair with a sigh as he spread your legs, carefully cleaning between them with a soft smile, leaving a kiss just above your cunt.
"Did that feel good?" He asked, and you nodded. Obviously that felt good, you would've told him if it hadn't felt good... But it was still nice that he asked.
He was the only guy you'd been with you ever bothered to.
"That felt so good..." You breathed, looking at him with a wide smile as he settled down beside you again. "Did you enjoy yourself?"
"Mhm... Plenty." He mumbled, and you furrowed your brows before it dawned on you. He'd cum while going down on you.
Fuck, that was hot.
"Oh." You breathed, feeling your cunt throb as you thought about just how turned on he must've been. He must've taken that for disgust, because he cleared his throat and looked away from you, taking a deep breath.
"Sorry if that's off-putting you're just... really hot." He mumbled, and you shook your head, wetting your lips as you looked back at his face, placing your hand against his cheek.
There was nothing wrong with him being excited while you were doing that, or with him handling himself... Your only regret was that it hadn't been your hands.
Next time it would be.
"That's so sexy, honestly." He let out a breath of relief as you dew him in for a long, lingering kiss, resting your foreheads against each other when you pulled away. "Though next time... Let me handle it, okay?" You asked, and he nodded eagerly, smiling widely as he pulled back from you.
Cutie.
"Absolutely." You chuckled, leaning in to kiss him again before speaking.
He just... Demanded it. Something in the way that Harry James Potter existed demanded affection.
"Amazing." You tucked against his chest, listening to the soft hum of his voice and the sound of his heartbeat as you let yourself relax, the serene moment filling your every thought.
Perfection.
447 notes · View notes
luna-azzurra · 3 months
Note
do you have any tips for writing arguments/fights?
Before you write an argument, know why each character is upset. Understanding their motivations will make the conflict feel authentic.
What are their personal stakes? What do they stand to lose or gain?
What are their emotional buttons? What specifically sets them off?
Keep Dialogue Realistic, Arguments often involve interrupted sentences, raised voices, and heightened emotions.
People often cut each other off in heated arguments. Use dashes or ellipses to show interruptions.
Use short, sharp sentences to convey anger or frustration.
Don’t be afraid to use exclamation points sparingly to show yelling or intense emotions.
Example:"I can't believe you did that!" she shouted. "I had no choice!" he interrupted, throwing up his hands. "You never listen to me!"
Show, Don’t Just Tell, Body language and physical actions can add a lot to an argument. Show how characters are feeling through their actions:
Clenched fists, crossed arms, pacing, or avoiding eye contact can show tension.
A character might slam a door, throw something, or storm out.
Flushed cheeks, narrowed eyes, or a furrowed brow can convey anger or frustration.
Build Tension Gradually, Arguments often escalate rather than start at full intensity. Build the tension step by step.
Start with a minor disagreement or a tense conversation.
Let the argument build as each character becomes more invested and emotional.
Reach a peak where the characters are at their most heated and emotional.
Decide whether the argument resolves or leaves characters estranged.
Use Emotional Beats, Incorporate moments of realization, regret, or empathy within the argument. These emotional beats can add depth:
A character might have a sudden realization in the middle of the argument.
Show a character feeling immediate regret after saying something hurtful.
A character might momentarily see the other’s point of view, even if they don’t fully agree.
Reflect the Stakes, Make sure the argument reflects the stakes of the story. The higher the stakes, the more intense the argument should be. If it’s a minor disagreement, keep it low-key. If it’s a life-changing issue, let the emotions and tension run high.
Vary the Pacing Not all arguments need to be fast and furious. Vary the pacing to reflect the ebb and flow of real conversations, Use quick back-and-forth dialogue for intense moments. Allow for pauses where characters collect their thoughts or calm down slightly before the next surge of emotion.
Consider the Aftermath, Think about the consequences of the argument. How does it affect the characters and their relationships moving forward?
Are characters feeling guilty, relieved, or still angry?
Does the argument bring characters closer, or does it drive a wedge between them?
Example of a Written Argument
"You never take my side!" Luana shouted, her voice echoing in the small apartment. "That's not true," Jamil replied, his tone defensive. "I just don't think you’re being reasonable." "Reasonable?" She laughed bitterly, crossing her arms. "You call ignoring my feelings reasonable?" "I'm not ignoring your feelings!" Jamil snapped, taking a step closer. "I just think you're overreacting." "Overreacting?" Luana's face flushed with anger. "You always say that! Every single time I bring up something important!" "Well, maybe if you didn't blow things out of proportion—" "Don't you dare say that!" she interrupted, her voice trembling. "I can't talk to you when you're like this." "Fine," he muttered, turning away. "Maybe we shouldn’t talk at all."
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cxffecoupx · 1 month
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vernon as a girl dad
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girl dad! vernon fluff, crack, a little smut, requested warnings: reader has a womb, vernon and his daughter sharing one braincell, sex (only a little though) wc: 771 writer's notes: it's been too long so i couldnt wait to post this (read: i didn't proof read this). to the anon who requested it, i'm so sorry for the long wait😭😭 but i really hope you understand and forgive me and that you enjoy it :) do lemme know your thoughts!!
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girl dad! hansol who zones out during the birth of your babygirl. like, man's just stood there like🧍‍♂️while you're screaming out in the pain and frustration. he seems motionless, but trust that he's just processing the whole situation. like, what do you mean he's having a new member in his family? a little proof of your love for each other? he needs some time to compose.
girl dad! hansol who does not get overwhelmed for some reason. it's funny cause you just bawled your eyes out to him like, two hours after giving birth, and he's sitting beside you, one hand holding your hand and stroking it, and the other carefully cradling your daughter, who sleeps oblivious to all this chaos.
girl dad! hansol who becomes hesitant with your daughter. he knows he isnt the best to take care of her, and constanly worries if he'll end up doing something wrong. asks you every minute about what he should do, or why she's crying, or how to burp her. he's like a little boy trying to take care of his little sister.
girl dad! hansol who LOVES it when his baby plays with him. he'd be just sitting there, and she crawls over, pulling the ends with his pants to get his attention. he lifts her up on his shoulders, while watching the program on the tv. the next moment he feels her pulling his hair and his ears and he starts blushing and giggling. you sit beside from them, watching his giggles elicit hearty laughs from your daughter.
girl dad! hansol who secretly worries if your daughter will like the room he's taken so much effort to decorate. he's tailing along as you take her to her new room; he eagerly watches her as her tiny eyes look around the room; he ends up beaming with pride and joy when she squeals and runs to him for all the beautiful decorations. he feels so happy his heart threatens to explode and his cheeks hurt from smiling too hard.
girl dad! hansol who is eager to spend some alone time with you. dont get him wrong, he would love to spend every waking moment with his little girl, but it's been too long without any intimate touch and it has slowly driven him crazy. so the moment his sister, Sophia, is out the door with your daughter, his mouth is on yours and his hands on every inch of your skin, like he's trying to remember what your body felt like before all this beautiful chaos.
you're giggling, watching his rush and eagerness, but he takes no time to silence you and replace them with moans and whimpers as he slowly relishes you. his tongue moves with a new grace and vigor, and all thoughts to remain silent leaves your mind as you call out his name repeatedly throughout the night.
girl dad! hansol who is beyond ecstatic over the fact that his daughter and he share the same love for food. who steals food from your plate and ends up indirectly teaching his daughter the same. so now, when you have burgers and fries on special nights, you remain extra cautious because one moment of distraction could lead to the crunchy fries and half a burger going missing.
girl dad! hansol who looks forward to fridays for movie nights with his favourite girls. you both have always had this ritual, but now with a new member along, he takes this as an opportunity to pass on his love for movies to his little princess. by 8pm, you prepare caramel popcorn and vanilla ice cream as she rushes to sit on her daddy's lap and pick the movie to watch.
girl dad! hansol who begins to slowly learn along with his baby. hearing you talk to your daughter about the importance of expressing emotions helps him understand that hiding them only pains those who love him. catching himself laughing loudly over some antics of his girl's make him realise that laughing out loud only brings more happiness to your life. watching his babygirl go from hearing her mother read stories to her to reading those stories on her own made him worry of the fact that time passes by too quick. he starts to cherish every laugh they share, every hug they have, every silly little competitions they keep.
and although his worry still remains, he likes to push it away with the thought that there's no other people he'd rather watch the sunsets and sunrises (that bring the calm after the chaos of crying over sleep and getting ready) with.
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yikimiki · 10 months
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>> bones and ashes
⚔️ sukuna x fem!reader | warnings for: violence, mentions of death, possessiveness (sukuna is as evil as they come so basically every red flag under the sun), non-con that turns into dub-con (Stockholm syndrome), mentions of virginity loss, anatomically impossible size difference (if u know what I mean), blood play, etc | around 5-6k words | also important to note that I absolutely assassinated the canon lore in some points but bare with me
Sukuna doesn’t really have the ability to love. But he thinks he gets close enough when it comes to you. Of course, in his own twisted, macabre way.
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Sukuna isn’t familiar to the concept of fondness, let alone anything more profound or meaningful than that. He knows want, desire, possession, curiosity even. But none of those feelings have ever tilted towards the side of affection, nor does he want them to. They’re all narcissistic pulses that keep pushing him forward — towards more power, more control, more of what he can become. He’s not even fond of his own abilities. Arrogant? Perhaps, but not fond. He can’t be fond of something he knows is not at its peak yet, that would just be weakness.
And Sukuna is everything but weak.
He sees you in a cold winter morning and he does what he knows best: he takes. Takes your pride, your virginity, your blood. Takes you like he took the lives of the rest of your village, paints your skin red and watches as the tears wash it away. Sukuna takes and takes until you have nothing left to give, just like he has done countless times before and yet… this time, something switches.
This time, he decides to let you live. Trapped in a dark cell, of course, but alive regardless.
The days move slowly, and you learn to mark their passing by the loud, clanking sound of a metal dish being thrown through a cracked door. The food is mostly raw meet and, after a few days of disgust, you cave in and eat a little of it. Not enough to be satisfied, not even close, but enough to keep you alive for at least a few hours longer.
Sukuna comes by in irregular intervals, and you soon give up on trying to find a pattern in his visits. You know it’s him from the way the door creaks open even further to accommodate his size, and you watch as his large shadow observes your movements for a moment before he kicks the disgusting plate towards you. Most of time time he’s there, you force yourself to eat, afraid of what should come if you turn down his unspoken commands. Once he seems satisfied, he exits without a word.
There is one single advantage in being in a windowless, isolated cell: you can’t hear what goes on up there. You’ve heard enough the day that Sukuna came to your village — the shattering screams, the pleads for mercy, the babies crying, the sound of wood and bone breaking almost too similar to differentiate. You saw creatures beyond your realm and heard awful whispers and threats; held you family as they died and gave up as the snow beneath your hands became as red as the burning sky above. And you know enough about Sukuna’s legend to be aware that it wasn’t an isolated incident.
When evil incarnate arrives, there’s not much you can do but surrender.
Though, when it comes to the legends, you thought that his palace was more of a manner of speak than an actual location. Once again, though, you’ve heard enough legends to know when to stop inquiring about the details.
Sukuna comes in after a week with a plan and a cloud of amusement over his head — frankly, given the state you were in, he thought you would be dead by now. Your stubborn hold on life is as impressive as it is pathetic.
“You looked so small when I first saw you,” his thunderous voice breaks the silence. There’s no food in his hands this time, only the fire cracking behind his form. You’re sitting down on the cold floor, back against the wall, and you don’t even bother looking up at him. “You look even smaller now.”
You don’t answer, because you don’t know what to say. Of course you’re smaller — you’re weak, starving, lacking movement and sunlight. Every muscle in your body aches and the aftertaste of dried blood never leaves your mouth. Smaller is a compliment; you wish you were just bones and ashes by now.
Sukuna takes a heavy step inside the dark chamber. “I killed everyone you’ve ever loved that day,” he says, bluntly. There’s no amusement nor sorrow in his tone — it’s a neutral statement. He lowers himself to your level and, on the corner of your eyes, you see his four arms. He is so wrong, even in a physical sense. Like the scar of something that shouldn’t even exist. “And yet… you live. Do you want to know why?”
You sneer. “I wish you’d just let me die.”
He chuckles, and one hand meets the side of your head. His fingers dig into the dirty, messy strings and pulls on the roots. There are tears on the corners of your eyes but you refuse to let him see them. “That’s exactly why you’re alive,” he says. “I knew you were ready to die when I saw you — all bloodied up, on your knees in the snow. It was quite a sight.” Sukuna’s voice is a malicious whisper as he comes even closer to you — he smells rotten. The tongue that licks up your cheek makes you want to puke. He tastes you the same way as he did on the first day, and you have no idea what he’s searching for. “Tell me, why were you so ready to give yourself to me? Most try to plead at least.”
“Plead for what? Your mercy?” The sarcasm is clear through your tone. The words you mean to say are knotted in the base of your throat and the odor Sukuna reeks is making you dizzy; making you remember everything that came before this. “I— I didn’t have anything else to live for,” you stutter. “You killed… you killed my mother, my father, my baby brother… why would I want to live without them? Why would I humiliate myself asking for mercy from a creature that clearly doesn’t have any to spare?”
Through anger, you look up at him. His eyes are flames bursting through the darkness, and they shine as your words settle on his skin. “Do you only live for love, my little dove?” He asks. “What a purposeless life you have.”
“Do you only live for hate?” You ask back before you can hold your tongue. Somewhere in your mind, you know that he’s capable of unimaginable evil, but you are beyond the point of caution. “What a purposeless legacy you’re leaving behind.”
This angers him. The corners of his mouth twists as he speaks. “You people fear me. Even the strongest of sorcerers doesn’t dare to go against me.”
“I pity you and your ridiculous need for destroying what isn’t yours,” you spit. “And I hate you for keeping me alive. I hate you for everything you’ve done to me and to the people I love. And I hate that you even dare to come here and talk to me like I’m the smaller person for daring to care about something.”
The hands on your hair tighten and he pulls your face against his. Sukuna’s forehead is a furnace against yours, his eyes burn into your soul. “You little insect, I could kill you with a snap of my fingers if I wanted to.”
Your voice shakes but you say it regardless: “Do it, then, what are you waiting for?”
“No,” his answer is more cruel than death could ever be. And he knows that. “And you know why?”
“If you are keeping me alive to have your way with me, so be it, have it,” you say. The tears are obvious now. You wonder if he can smell how fearful you really are. “Violate me like you did before, I don’t care anymore, but just don’t keep me alive just to waste me away.”
His lips are touching yours now, but you can’t pull away even if you tried. Sukuna’s chest is heaving like he’s in the middle of a battle, his voice like a roar in your ears. “Then ask. For. My Mercy.”
“I w-would n-never…”
“Ask!” It’s a loud command that crashes against you like a wave. You sink like there is no adrenaline in your body to keep you afloat; the anger that moved you before is no longer within your reach.
The truth is clear: you’re human. He’s a curse — the king of curses, older than you could ever imagine; probably even more powerful than the legends you’ve heard. His eyes say that there are fates worse than death and you believe them. And maybe, just maybe, if you play by his rules, he’ll grow tired of you and let you wither away.
“P-Please,” you are sobbing now, tears falling down like a cascade. Sukuna licks them and hums in satisfaction, watching as you break apart into a mountain of hiccups and trembling limbs. “Please just… have mercy on me. I’ll do whatever you want just — please, stop torturing me like this.”
“Aw,” he coos. “Was that so hard?”
You want to say that yes, somehow, that took everything still left in you. You want to say that if he wanted to break your spirit, congratulations, he’s done it. But you don’t get the chance.
Sukuna kisses you with the same ferocity you expected, sharp teeth crashing against yours and tongue exploring your mouth with no prior warning. He groans as he tastes you — you, the blood in your food, the salt of your tears — and suddenly it’s all that he will ever crave again. You whimper against his lips as his two lower arms crawl up your thighs and hold onto your hips, pushing you against him as he stands up and presses you against the wall. You feel more caged now than you have felt these past few days.
“Silly little human,” he raps against your lips, then licks your cheek for more of your precious tears. He realizes how much he likes to make you cry. You wince and give out a little sob, which only makes him smile. Finally, his grip on your hair loosens. “What is my name?”
You blink, dumbfounded by the sudden question. “S-Sukuna…?”
He pouts. “Say it like you mean it or I won’t be so nice.”
“Sukuna,” you say more firmly this time.
“There we go, that’s a good girl,” he says. “See how things just work better when you don’t misbehave? Hm?”
You nod. He doesn’t like it. “Y-Yes, I see, I’m sorry.”
“Very good.” The hand that was on your hair moves to hold your face, and it’s so huge that you feel like it would crush your skull with one single movement. As the other two arms hold onto your thighs, the fourth limb squeezes your breast. “Now, this is what’s going to happen, my pretty little human,” Sukuna starts, “I will have my servants take you to my chambers. You will be washed, clothed, and taken care of. They will feed you proper human food this time, whichever it is that your heart desires. How does that sound?”
Sounds like a trap. “And, in return, what do I have to do for you?”
“What do I have to do for you…?” He raises his eyebrows.
“Sukuna,” you complete.
“There’s my perfect little girl,” he says. You hate that something inside you likes the praise. “You will have to wait for me there. Do whatever you prefer, but don’t leave my room. Any attempt at escaping or killing yourself will be futile, and I’ve already warned every single curse that your death will result in a much more dire future for them. So you will be brought back to me. And I promise I won’t be so nice.”
“I understand… Sukuna,” you correct yourself quickly. It doesn’t go unnoticed.
The hand on your breast squeezes tighter, and you bite your lip so you don’t complain. “I knew I was right when I brought you here, something made me spare you. Yet, I don’t know what it is just yet.”
Sukuna is a looming threat above you, his limbs trapping you, and his deep voice is like thunder about to break. You know why so many fear him — you fear him too. And the sooner you act like it, the sooner he’ll grow tired of you. Sooner he’ll realize he was wrong in bringing you into his fortress.
He smirks. “But I believe I’ll discover soon enough.”
- ⚔️ -
Sukuna’s chambers are as spacious and monstrous as himself — corners switching and adjusting like breathing flesh; furniture morphing into different shapes; the weird odor of something old; the feeling for something lurking. The large windows show a world between worlds; a reality that doesn’t seem right no matter how long you stare at it. His palace is in a dimension you can’t reach, and you give up on trying to understand it. If anything, the more you wonder about it, the more you shake under the weight of the sheer power it must take to keep it all existing like solid matter.
Your passage of time is morphed and unreliable, but you would guess that a couple weeks have passed by the time that you come to terms that, perhaps, Sukuna isn’t as easy to bore as you first expected. The fire in his eyes doesn’t seem to diminish as he sees you — if anything, his eagerness to have you all to himself only seems to expand — and the way he takes care of you makes you realize that he isn’t planning on letting you die anytime soon.
Life in his chambers is far more comfortable, you admit, but it’s a prison nonetheless. Still, you can’t say that you are mistreated. In his chambers, you are bathed and clothed, well-fed and pampered. You soon come back to your normal weight and the fatigue leaves your body; there is more space to move, more things to do. The curses that come to check on you seem to be strangely kind and human-like, though you know it’s out of fear and not out of worry, and they keep your mind occupied with several stories and legends as the days move on.
Sukuna is more absent than you would have imagined, conquering and killing as often as he can. When he finally comes to you he is clean, recently bathed, but you can still see he is fresh from a battle, some mindless corruption beyond the horizon that you would rather hear nothing about. There are shallow scars and deep cuts that heal unreasonably quickly; dried blood that hasn’t quite washed away and ashes beneath his fingernails.
You ask whose village he has attacked this time, but he says it doesn’t matter, because there are no survivors.
“I never leave any survivors,” he completes, kissing your forehead, “besides you, my little human.”
You don’t push beyond that information, but the feeling of being special, chosen, starts to blossom like a dangerous rose inside your chest. It stings and stings, but grows regardless, and you see yourself less able to fight against his possessive claims. You start to enjoy them. You start to wonder if life beyond those walls is worth fighting for when you seem to have everything you would ever wish for right here.
You can always tell when Sukuna is about to arrive in this world because the atmosphere switches into something darker, heavier. The air seems thicker and the clouds beyond your windows start to bleed into a deep shade of red. Sukuna returns with the apocalypse on his back, and, when he does, he uses your body as he pleases.
Like the room around you, there is constant change. Sometimes it hurts like hell; sometimes it’s pleasurable. Sometimes you wish it would just end and you end up crying in despair; sometimes you look at him like you might get used to feeling him inside of you. Some days, Sukuna is kinder, more patient, taking time to adjust you to his enormous size and even makes sure that you enjoy it before reaching his end; fucking you full of his cum until you can’t think of one single thing besides him. Other days, you know he is angry just by the way he walks through the door — and, in those days, you are left bleeding and bruised as he uses your body in every single way until he’s close enough to satisfied. That, on itself, can take a long, long time.
You realize that, during those violent days, he could use one of his curses to please himself, but he prefers to use you — because you bleed, you cry, and you suffer. As long as your pain exists, his interest is unwavering.
However, like everything else, you adapt, get used to it. Routine becomes familiar and you learn the tell-tale signs of his rancid mood; learn how to make it a little better and what things to avoid. You stop thinking about getting away — you don’t even have anywhere else to go — and start longing for his presence as he takes more time to come back home. Sukuna is warm, safe; next to him you know you are shielded from any harm. When he appears, no one dares to look or touch you, no one speaks until they are spoken to. Just by being in his gravitational pull, you are protected and no harm will ever come your way again.
Even if it hurts, you start hoping that he won’t get tired of you.
Sukuna, on the other hand, isn’t quite sure how he feels about it all.
It’s not love — he has gone over that one a few hundred times already, has marked off every possible scenario and imagined every possible feeling, and he is sure it isn’t love. To be frank, he doesn’t even think he’s capable of it even if he wanted to, he sold his soul too long ago to even remember how normal humans love. But if it’s not love, it’s something similar — a kind of tenderness, fondness. He has a soft spot for you, to put it bluntly. Though not in the typical sense.
Sukuna adores you like a painter adores his favorite canvas; like an exotic bird in a cage — he adores you with possession, obsession, with the knowledge that you can’t ever get away from his grip. He is fond of you in a way that he would murder anyone who would even dare to touch what is his; but would never set you free. He can hurt you, he can tear you into pieces and build you to his liking. Sukuna can kiss you or bite you; hug or break you, but it’s because you’re his little pet and no one else’s.
He is fond of the way you bend for him; the way you look at him with sheer adoration in your eyes even after he has taken everything from you. He is fond of the way that only he could kill you; that your small life is in his hands and you thank him for it. Sukuna is fond of the way your tight little cunt stretches so wide to take his fat cock; lives for the little whimpers you give out and the tears that stain his satin sheets when he finally allows you to cum for him. If he could crawl inside your soul, he would. If he could take it and eat it and have you forever, he would.
He doesn’t know why he craves you so much, but he knows that nothing else gives him the same high anymore.
So he keeps you.
It’s a heavy stormy night when he comes back the next time, and his room is only illuminated by a few candles and the lightening from outside. You’re in his large bed, looking as small as that day in the snow, and there is a touch of worry in your eyes that he doesn’t miss. But he ignores it.
“Undress,” he commands.
You rush to do as he says, throwing the faint fabric over your head. It falls to the ground as Sukuna walks towards the bed, his massive weight making it dip under his knee as he leans closer to you.
“My pretty little doll,” Sukuna muses. “Missed me?”
He always asks that. And your answer is always the same.
“So much, Sukuna.”
It’s more honest every time.
He hums, satisfied, and smirks as he pushes your hair away from your face. “I have something to tell you, and I think you will like it,” Sukuna says. You look at him with wide eyes as he settles over you, his four arms caging your body as you lay down. The mouth on his stomach open and closes, a large tongue coming out before it vanishes again — it always does it when he’s particularly excited. “Would you like to know what it is?”
You know he will tell you regardless. Like all the tales of his battles, he lives for the glimpse of horror in the back of your eyes. “Yes, Sukuna.”
“Seems like you are famous now,” he starts. You furrow your eyebrows. “Sorcerers are trying to save you. The poor little human girl that Sukuna took as a prisoner months ago.” He kisses your neck, then licks the skin. You shiver — months, it has been months then. “Two of them tried to enter my domain today, stupid little insects,” he continues. Another hand lands on your exposed breast, playing with your nipple. “You have no idea how enraged that made me, my little human. To have someone try to take you away from me; to try and to enter my domain and take you from me.”
His voice turns into a growl by the end of the sentence, and you feel the familiar pulse of terror running through your veins. He’s in a bad mood, that’s obvious, but there’s something hiding beneath that as well.
“What did you do to them?” You ask. “Did they get in?”
Sukuna chuckles darkly, and the hand that was on your breast now settles on your clit, massaging it softly. “I took care of them, my sweet thing, of course,” he says. Your breath hitches at the slow pleasure of his movements, and your eyes flutter shut. “No one will ever take you from me.”
“I don’t want to lose you,” you say without a thought. In your heart, you feel it’s wrong. But without him, you have nothing. “I’m yours forever, Sukuna.”
“I know you are,” he answers.
Sukuna holds you by the throat as he kisses you — not enough to suffocate you, but enough to make you a little dizzy. Your eyes cross mindlessly as his tongue invades your mouth; a deep groan coming from his chest as he tastes your lips. He always kisses you violently, possessively, like he wishes to suck your soul out of your chest. Beneath his size you can only shrink and hold onto his large biceps, the wetness between your legs growing as he takes what is his.
He pulls back, ignoring the string of saliva that connects you two. “Pretty little thing,” he muses, shoving his middle finger inside your mouth. “Suck for me.”
You do as he says and he smirks at the feeling of your pretty lips around his large finger. Soon enough, the same digit is invading your pussy, curling up so quickly that you see starts at your peripheral vision.
“Relax or it’ll hurt again,” he says — not like he cares about it. “I want you to remember tonight.”
“W-Why?”
“Because I’ll make sure that you’ll be mine forever,” he says, a devilish smile on the corners of his lips. “So no one can take you from me. No one would even try.”
Your breath is getting heavier, and you don’t even register what he’s telling you — he could do a billion things to you and you’d still let him. The time spent only in his company made your resolution vanish, and you became exactly what he wanted you to: another possession for him to do as he pleases. Because of him, you have nothing else. Besides him, you have nothing.
“You’re not cumming around my finger tonight,” he says and quickly removes his hand from your cunt. You whine at the sudden emptiness, walls spasming around nothing, but you know better than to protest. “It’s going to be around my cock, you got it?”
“Yes, Sukuna,” you say.
“Good girl,” he muses. His lower arms move to undo his pants as his mouth attacks yours once again. His sharp teeth drain blood from your lips and he groans at the metallic taste; drinks the little sob of pain you let out. “You’re all fucking mine. Forever,” he growls, “I’ll make you live forever with me.”
Months ago, that would be torture. But now, “It sounds like heaven, Sukuna,” you say. “I love you.”
Your vision falls to where his hands are working. His cock is massive, bigger than your forearm, balls swinging out of his shorts and falling heavy under his shaft. Your entire body tingles in anticipation as he strokes himself, aligning his cockhead with your opening. “Tiny fucking cunt,” he curses, rubbing it against your soaked folds. “I’ll train you to take my cock even better than now, kitten.” Your mouth falls open as he starts to push in and it hurts — no matter how many times you’ve taken him, it always burns. “Way too fucking tight for my fat cock, you know that?”
“I-I’m sorry, I’ll do better-“
He chuckles. “I fucking love it.”
In one strong motion, he shoves himself as deep as he can, pressing against your cervix as you whine at his size. It isn’t fair — it’s so thick you can’t even breathe, you can feel him in your stomach, pressing and pulsing until you can’t think of anything but the sheer size of his massive cock inside your poor little hole. Your walls hurt to accommodate his girth, stretching as far as they can, but it never seems like it’s enough.
“It’s t-too big, Sukuna,” you whine. And it is. You know he must be doing something to your body so you can even be alive right now, because it’s not humanly possible to take such a big cock. “I c-can’t…”
His hand lands on your head and pulls at the roots. “You are my special little human, my obedient little girl,” he reminds you. His cock throbs inside you and you whimper, the small movement alone makes you drool. “You will do anything I tell you to do.”
You nod. “Y-Yes.”
“So when I tell you to take it….” He rolls his hips even deeper and you call his name so loud that you’re sure the entire world will hear it. “You’ll fucking take it.”
You don’t even have the ability to answer as he starts to pound deep inside your soaked cunt, hard and violent, as he is. Your vision is blurry with tears as you look down to see his massive cock bullying itself again and again inside your cunt, taking everything you have to give.
“Look at me when I claim you,” Sukuna warns and you do it instantly. Your legs wrap around his hips and he squeezes your ass so hard it will bruise. There’s a malicious glint in his red eyes that never quite goes away, no matter how much he tries, and now it’s deadset on you. “My precious little girl,” he calls, voice strained with pleasure. You can tell from the way his cock throbs that he is close, but it doesn’t matter. He just keeps going. “You told me you love me. Do you only live for love, kitten?”
“I live f-for loving you, S-Sukuna,” you respond automatically. “I live for you.”
Sukuna groans like an animal — he adores what a stupid little fuckdoll he has turned you into. He can never get tired of this; he can never let it get away. “You’ll die for me, kitten?”
You nod so quickly you get dizzy. “Yes, a-anything… I’m yours f-forever.”
He calls your name like he has never done before, a little insane, a little sweet. If the sheer size of Sukuna’s genitals aren’t anything to go by, he cums a lot — it oozes out of your cunt before he’s even halfway through, cock throbbing and leaking again and again until you’re filled to the brim. His huge balls smack against your ass as he continues to bully himself inside you, a little more desperate now, intoxicated by his own pleasure.
There’s no rest, there never is. He only takes and takes.
“I’ll make you mine,” he groans.
“I’m yours, Sukuna, I’m yours…” you repeat like a broken record, half-aware of your own voice through the loud moans and hiccups. You watch in ecstasy as he uses one of his sharp nails to cut the palm of his hand, blood oozing out of it and dropping on your breasts. It’s like you know what he will say even before he says it. “You want me t-to-“
“Drink it.”
Perhaps you should be scared, but you’re not. Your mouth opens without a second thought and he presses his large palm on your lips, muffling your moans and allowing the hot dark liquid to invade your tongue. Sukuna’s blood is thick and it tastes like poison, but you do as he says, liking his flesh and drinking it until he seems satisfied and takes his hand away.
It strikes your body like an arrow, straight through your chest and expanding like deep roots. You feel as his blood burns your insides, changing something in your very existence. It’s hard to think through the sensations — the pleasure building up, the venom running through your veins, the mixture of devotion and fear that dances inside your mind. Your vision is double, black around the edges, and you think you might be cumming but you’re not sure you can even feel your body anymore. Sukuna’s voice echoes muffled in the background, and you can see his mouth moving in slow motion, but you don’t understand his words. You think you are crying. You think you can’t breathe. You think you are dying and being born at the same time and you don’t know why you feel so grateful for it all.
Your lungs are on fire and your throat is dry. You try to speak, but can’t. You have the vague flashback of the time your uncle made you drink alcohol, it burns just the same, but this time, no one is laughing. This time, you’re dying.
“… at me.”
This time, Sukuna’s voice rings sharp and clear. You stare at him, confused, as the flames inside your chest slowly subside.
“Keep looking at me,” he repeats, commanding.
You try to nod, but your head doesn’t move. You can’t see the room around you anymore. “H-Hurts,” you manage to get out.
“I know,” he says, and there’s a touch of softness in his voice you don’t ignore. “Focus on me. I’ll make it feel better.”
And that’s what you try to do, even if your soul seems to be floating miles above your body. You look down at where he is still moving in and out of you, at the white-coated mess that drips from your hole and soaks your inner thighs. It doesn’t seem to hurt as badly now, like your body is changing to accommodate him even better — in fact, it feels like heaven.
You look up at him, dumbfounded. “I t-think I’m going to cum, Sukuna,” the words come easier now, and you feel like you can move again. Though, it still feels like a dream. “It’s so g-good.”
“Cum on my fat cock, then, make me proud,” he coos. You close your eyes and nod, trying to focus on the paradise that blooms between your legs. You feel every ridge and vein of his massive cock; hear the lewd squelching sounds of his cum leaking out of you. It comes to you faster than you would have imagined, washing through your body like a wave as you cry and shake miserably. “That’s my girl, fuck, there we go, that’s my perfect little girl.”
The spasming of your walls manages to milk more cum out of him and he groans loudly as he releases inside you once more. Sukuna cums so much it makes you breathless, filling you again and again until he’s satisfied and the sheets beneath you have no salvation left.
“There we go, take everything,” he says in a strained groan, “every fucking drop inside this tight fucking cunt.”
Sukuna looks absolutely insane above you — fucking his cock so hard into you that it seems like he will never have the chance again; eyes blown wide and his teeth clenched. You cum again, this time a little softer, as you feel his thick cock shoot a specially large amount of cum inside your pussy, and wait until he’s done using your body.
Eventually, he settles, pressing his forehead against yours and looking deep inside your eyes. The redness in them is shining like flames, watching every movement of your face.
“Feels weird,” you say. “I feel dizzy.”
He chuckles and removes himself from you. Another white-hot wave gushes out of your cunt, and he sits back to watch it drip. “There we go, it wasn’t so bad, was it?”
You swallow, your tongue is still numb inside your mouth. “It was horrible, Sukuna. I felt like I was going to die.”
Sukuna smiles and uses two fingers to push some of his cum back inside you. “I can promise you it was better than when I did,” he says, and you’re confused for a moment. “But now we don’t have anything to worry about anymore, my sweet thing. Those pathetic little sorcerers won’t want you.”
“H-How are you so sure?” You ask.
“Aw, my sweet, stupid little girl.” He pouts, condescending as always. “No one will want to save a curse now.”
Your eyes widen. “Did you…?”
“I told you.” Sukuna licks his own blood at the corner of your mouth. “You are mine forever.”
2K notes · View notes
steddiealltheway · 11 months
Text
The upside down is colder than Steve remembers.
To be fair, he only wearing a vest, pants, and no shoes at the moment, and he may be actively bleeding out even with the bandages because of the damn bats but… he just doesn’t remember it being this cold.
He probably didn’t spend long enough in the tunnels to truly get a feel for things. But now that he’s fully here, he can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for Will.
The place is dark enough to even give Steve nightmares although he has Robin, Nancy, and Eddie at this side. How did Will survive with no one?
Steve looks down and carefully steps over a vine as he makes his way through the woods. Did Will ever step on-
“Is this a bad time to mention that I haven’t kissed anyone?”
Steve and the girls turn to Eddie, giving him looks of confusion at the random outburst.
Eddie keeps walking, staring at the ground as he tries not to activate the hive mind. “I’m just saying, it kind of feels like the end of the world here, and it makes you think. Like, do I really want to die a virgin? Not really, but dying without kissing anyone… I feel like that’s a bigger problem in my book.”
Robin and Nancy share the same look of confusion mixed with an air of why are you talking to us about this? But Steve thinks he gets the nervous rambling. He wouldn’t want to die unkissed either.
Eddie slowly stops and turns around, finally noticing that the three of them stopped when he made his first comment. He just stares at them for a moment before sighing, “Forget I said anything. I just hate walking in silence with all these thoughts of impending doom.”
With that, the girls start walking again, quickly catching up to Eddie, but Steve struggles as he thinks a little too hard about what Eddie said instead of thinking about not stepping on a vine. So he compromises speed for a very important thought.
Eddie wants to kiss someone. Probably. Definitely.
He can’t kiss Nancy because she’s with Jonathan, and Steve’s pretty sure Nancy would not be the greatest choice of a first kiss - since she would be unenthusiastic.
And Robin… well. She would be equally as unenthusiastic, probably even more so.
And really, everyone must be thinking the same thing. Because there’s one obvious solution.
“I’ll kiss you,” Steve announces as he steps over a vine. He watches as the three of them freeze in front of them, and Eddie almost even trips on a vine.
Once he catches up to them, Steve says, “It’s the clear solution to the problem.”
Robin shoots him a look of bewilderment and mouthes what??
Steve just looks away from her. It’s not a crazy thought really. Eddie wants to kiss someone before the world maybe ends, and Steve is just a really generous person who would like- enjoy- no, volunteer very very generously to help the good cause.
“You’re kidding, right?” Eddie asks.
And oh. Steve hadn’t really thought about how Eddie might not want to kiss him. Shit. He shakes his head. “I’m not kidding, but I wouldn’t do it unless you wanted to. And it’s okay that you don’t. Let’s just keep going.”
Eddie reaches out and grabs his arm. “I never said that I didn’t want to,” he says quickly.
Steve’s pretty sure he hears Robin snort at the comment, and he can sees Nancy trying to hide an amused smile behind her hand. He ignores them and puts his hands on his hips. “Alright.”
“Okay,” Eddie says.
They both stare at each other not moving.
“We’re going to give you some space,” Robin says, grabbing Nancy’s hand and pulling her deeper into the woods.
Steve doesn’t pay much attention to them as they walk away, he’s too busy staring at Eddie. And yeah, he’s a good looking guy. He knew that from high school whenever he would go on his rants, and Steve had an excuse to stare. And really the thought of kissing him is definitely not the worse and actually… he’s kind of looking forward to it, if the fast beating of his heart is any indication.
Eddie though, he looks… scared. Maybe just nervous. But his expression definitely isn’t in any way happy.
Steve takes a step toward him and softly says, “We don’t have to do this, okay? And it’s okay if you don’t want to.”
Eddie shakes his head and laughs humorlessly. “It’s not that I don’t want to it’s just… you’re Steve Harrington.”
“And?”
“And that name means something. And it shouldn’t be tangled up with my name.”
Steve raises his eyebrows at him. “I’m pretty sure we already crossed that line a while ago.”
“But you know what I mean,” Eddie sighs, looking at the ground.
Yeah, he does know what he means. But… “The world might end. I think there are stranger things than you and me kissing.”
Eddie shakes his head. “I think that would be the most shocking thing out of all of this.”
“Then get ready for me to rock your world, Munson,” Steve says with a smirk, stepping closer and brushing a curly strand of hair out of his face.
Eddie takes a deep breath and settles his hands on Steve’s waist above the wounds he’s forgotten about. “Is this… okay?”
Steve nods and wraps his arms around Eddie’s shoulders. “Yeah. Is this?”
Eddie just hums mhm, his eyes get a little wider and his cheeks flush a deeper pink.
Steve can’t help but look over Eddie’s face, taking in what he looks like at the closer proximity when he’s allowed to look. His eyes wander down to where Eddie’s full lips are slightly parted as if they’re just waiting for him to kiss them. But Steve looks back into Eddie’s dark eyes, searching for hesitation but only sending nerves and anticipation.
“I like that you’re the same height as me,” Steve randomly blurts out.
“Why’s that?”
Steve feels a blush creep up his neck. “Because my neck won’t strain when I kiss you.” Eddie laughs, and Steve decides that if the world really is coming to an end, he should be fully honest. “Plus, it’s easier to look at your eyes when they’re at my level.”
Eddie’s grin turns into a soft smile. His eyes glance down at Steve’s lips.
He knows the moment has come. “I’m going to kiss you now, if that’s okay.”
“It’s more than okay,” Eddie says, leaning in closer.
Steve smiles before closing the distance between them and kissing Eddie slowly as if they have all the time in the world. He breaks the kiss and pulls back enough to take in Eddie's expression - eyebrow raised in astonishment, lips slightly parted, and eyes still closed.
And yeah, they might not make it to tomorrow, plus Eddie looks hot. So, Steve doesn’t pull away. Instead, he kisses him again, this time with much more fervor and… yes, tongue. Sue him. He just wants to make Eddie’s first (and second) kiss memorable.
Eddie’s hands press into Steve’s back, pulling him closer as Steve slows the kiss, needing air. He pulls back and breathes in deep, staring at Eddie’s kiss swollen lips and feeling… many things.
But instead of giving into those feelings, Steve just pats Eddie on the arm and says, “See, you’re a natural.” As soon as he walks away, Steve wants one of the vines to drag him far far away so he doesn’t have to think about what he just said. Christ. He’s not smooth.
As soon as he catches up to Robin, she practically yanks him back so Eddie and Nancy can wander off out of earshot.
Steve crosses his arms and stares at her. “What?”
“Don’t ‘what’ me. You know exactly what this is about,” Robin says, jabbing a finger into his chest.
Steve winces. “Okay. Yes. I kissed Eddie. But what else was I supposed to do? Make you or Nance kiss him? No way.”
“You realize that he was just thinking out loud, right? You turned his thought into an invitation.”
Steve shrugs and walks toward the other two, trying to make sure they don’t go too far. “It sounded like an invitation to me,” he says with a shrug.
“I’m sure it did,” Robin mutters.
Steve turns to glare at her.
Robin sighs and lays a hand on his arm. “You can talk to me, you know? Even if you’re in the process of figuring things out and can’t get a true read of things.”
Steve turns and looks back at Eddie, noting how his heart beats a little faster and his body wants more than anything to get closer to him. He looks back and Robin and asks, “How obvious am I being?”
The tension in Robin’s shoulder goes away slightly at the question, and she smiles. “With the ‘you’re a natural’ comment? Totally fooled. No one would guess a thing.”
Steve’s jaw drops. “You were watching that?”
“How could I not? And do I regret it?” Robin pauses before answering her question, “A little when you started using tongue.”
“Jesus, Robin,” Steve says, trying to sound annoyed, but he can’t help but laugh.
Robin smiles and nudges him. “It seems like you have a type.”
Steve raises an eyebrow before he looks to where Robin is staring. He watches as Nancy and Eddie talk quietly about something, both sharing a small smile, amusement evident in their big round eyes, and dark, curly hair framing their faces. Maybe Robin has a point.
“Maybe I do,” Steve says as Eddie glances back at him and smiles. When he turns back, Steve asks Robin, “Do you think we could talk more about it when we’re not in an alternate dimension, and I have time to think about things?”
“Of course,” Robin says and squeezes his arm. “But for now, I’m going to give you things to think about!” she announces before running ahead to Nancy and quickly starting some type of hushed conversation.
Steve looks at where Eddie lingers behind the girls and quickly runs up to him, deciding maybe he can figure things out now. And maybe he can verbally thank him for saving his ass instead of just kissing him and hoping he gets the message.
Gosh, he doesn’t know if he can get through this without getting distracted by his lips. But he’s going to try.
(And he’s going to fail)
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goldfades · 4 months
Text
★ AND YOU SAY I ABANDONED THE SHIP / BUT I WAS GOING DOWN WITH IT / MY WHITE KNUCKLE DYING GRIP / SO HOW MUCH SAD DID YOU THINK I HAD, DID YOU THINK I HAD IN ME? / HOW MUCH TRAGEDY? / JUST HOW LOW DID YOU THINK I'D GO? ─── PB⁵ (part 1/2)
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❪ requested -> paige and ex gf!reader that plays on iowa where theres a lot of tension on the court bc they ended on rough terms but u can see that they still care abt each other yet have to prioritize the game // hii could u write for paige x ex gf iowa!reader where they play against each other in the final four and everyone can tell theres sm tension on the court between them bc they ended on rough terms ? they still care abt each other a lot but r forced to put those feelings aside for the sake of the game (but they def had a talk afterwards) - u can make it so that iowa still won or uconn won i think either one would be interesting ! tysm ❫ part two!!!!!!!!!!
─ warnings | ANGSTTTTT!!!!!! mentions of transfers, fighting, paige being a BITCHHHH LIKE so mean (but its for the plot trust), banter at the end, mention of cc and kate martin, jealous!paige
─ ev's notes | tried a new format for the third little part thingy idk if yall like it but lmk (like the iowa game part)
⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!
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JUNE 2022
Y/N L/N ANNOUNCES ENTERS THE TRANSFER PORTAL AFTER ALLEGED DISAGREEMENT OVER PLAYING TIME. In a surprising turn of events, UConn defensive star Y/N L/N has announced her decision to enter the transfer portal.
Despite the official narrative focusing on playing time, insiders report that L/N's decision is rooted in a desire to find a new environment where she can heal and focus on her game without the added stress of her recent breakup with Paige Bueckers, another star player for the Huskies. The emotional toll of the split has reportedly affected her performance and well-being, prompting her to make a fresh start at another school.
UConn’s coaching staff and teammates have expressed their support for L/N, acknowledging the challenges she has faced. "Y/N is an incredible athlete and person," said Coach Geno Auriemma. "We respect her decision and wish her nothing but the best in her future endeavors."
As L/N navigates this difficult period, she remains committed to her basketball career and is looking forward to finding a new team where she can continue to shine both on and off the court. While the specifics of her next move remained uncertain for a short time, it has now been confirmed that she will be transferring to Iowa.
Fans and fellow players have taken to social media to show their support for L/N, emphasizing the importance of mental health and personal well-being in the demanding world of collegiate sports. Iowa's coaching staff has expressed their excitement about welcoming L/N to the team. "We are thrilled to have Y/N join us," said Coach Lisa Bluder. "She brings exceptional talent and experience to our program, and we are committed to supporting her both on and off the court."
As Y/N L/N begins her new journey with the Iowa Hawkeyes, there is no doubt that she will continue to be a formidable presence in collegiate basketball. Her resilience and determination promise to make her time at Iowa just as remarkable as her tenure at UConn.
──
"So you're really doing it?" Paige's expression was unimpressed, bordering disgusted as she pushed herself between you and the door.
You sniffled, glaring at the blonde. "Get out of my way, Paige."
She crossed her arms, standing firm. "So that's it? You're just going to run away? Because of us?"
"It's not about that," you snapped, the weight of your duffel bag making your shoulder ache. "It's about me needing to be okay. And I can't do that here."
Paige's eyes softened for a moment, but she didn't budge. "Y/N, we're a team. You can't just leave us like this. Leave me like this."
You shook your head, frustration boiling over. "This isn't about the team. This is about us, Paige. I can't be around you every day, pretending like everything's fine when it's not. I'm not okay with being on the same team as you, do you get that, Paige?"
Paige's expression flickered with a mix of anger and something else — maybe hurt. "You think Iowa is going to magically fix everything? Running away doesn't solve anything, I promise you that."
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "This isn't running away. This is me choosing to put myself first for once. I have to do this."
"What happened to loyalty? As soon as things get hard, you're running away! How does that make sense?" Paige let out a bitter laugh as you bit your lip, trying your best not to blow up. "God, what is wrong with you?"
You couldn't hold it in anymore. "You shouldn't be talking about loyalty, Paige! You left me, remember? We've been through-"
"Don't you dare say it, Y/N." Paige's voice was sharp, but you pressed on, the dam of emotions breaking.
"We've been through so much together, and you just threw it all away! You can't expect me to stay here and pretend like everything's fine when it's not."
Paige's eyes blazed with anger. "Oh, don't turn this around on me! You think you're the only one who got hurt? You think it was easy for me to make that decision? You're such a selfish-"
"Selfish?" you interrupted, your voice rising, ringing throughout the locker room. "I'm selfish for wanting to protect my mental health? I'm selfish for needing to get away from the constant reminder of what we had and lost?"
"You're selfish for abandoning the team! For abandoning me!" Paige shouted, her voice cracking. "Do you have any idea what it's going to be like without you here?"
"You don't get to play the victim," you shot back, tears streaming down your face as you sniffled. "You're the one who ended things. You don't get to decide how I cope with that."
Paige took a step closer, her face contorted with rage. "Fine, go to Iowa. Run away like a little pussy. But don't you dare come back and expect everything to be okay. Don't you dare think you can just waltz back into our lives when it suits you."
"That's not what I'm doing," you retorted, your voice shaking as you averted your gaze. "I need this, Paige. I need to get away from you."
"Then go!" she yelled, her voice echoing in the empty locker room. "But don't expect me to forgive you for this. For leaving when things got tough. For being a pussy."
"Oh, really?" You laughed, anger filling your body. "Fuck you. I thought we could be mature, but apparently we can't."
Paige's eyes flashed with fury. "Mature? You're the one who's bailing when things get hard! That's not mature, that's cowardly."
You clenched your fists, trying to keep your composure. "You think this is easy for me? You think I want to leave? I'm doing this because I have to, not because I want to. I'm trying to survive, Paige!"
"Survive?" she scoffed, stepping closer. "What about me? What about the team? We need you, and you're just walking away."
"I'm not your crutch," you shot back. "You have no right to make me feel guilty for taking care of myself. This isn't just about you, Paige. This is about my sanity, my well-being."
Paige's face twisted with a mix of anger and hurt. "Fine, go ahead and leave. But don't expect me to be here waiting for you when you decide to come back."
"I don't expect anything from you anymore," you replied coldly. "I'm done expecting anything from you."
Paige's expression darkened further, and she took another step closer, her voice lowering to a venomous whisper. "You know what? Maybe it's good you're leaving. No one needs your drama and bullshit. You're not as important as you think you are."
The words stung, cutting deeper than you expected. But Paige wasn't finished. "And let's be real, Y/N, Iowa's not going to "fix" you. You're still going to be the same fucked-up person, running from your problems. Maybe if you weren't so broken, none of this would have happened."
You felt as though the air had been sucked out of the room. Her words were like a knife twisting in your gut. You blinked back tears, feeling your heart shatter into even smaller pieces. "You... you have no idea what I've been through," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "To get here, to prove myself to everyone."
"Clearly, I don't," Paige shot back, her voice full of disdain. "Because if I did, maybe I would've seen what a complete waste of time it was to care about you."
The finality of her words was like a slap in the face. You stood there, stunned, feeling the weight of her anger and your own heartbreak. Without another word, you turned and walked out of the locker room, each step feeling heavier than the last.
As you stepped outside, the cool evening air did little to soothe the burning pain in your chest. Iowa was waiting, but now it felt more like an escape from a nightmare than a fresh start. You knew you could never go back, not after what had been said. The bridge between you and Paige was not just burned — it was incinerated.
Driving away, tears blurred your vision. The future was uncertain, and the path ahead seemed daunting. But one thing was clear: you were done with Paige, done with the hold she had over you. It was time to find a place where you could heal, far away from the person who had just torn your heart apart.
──
NOVEMBER 2022
"Welcome, everyone, to what promises to be an exciting game tonight!" The commentator's voice boomed through the arena. "We have Iowa facing off against Ohio State, and all eyes are on Y/N L/N, the transfer from UConn. Let's see how she gels with her new teammates, especially standout stars Caitlin Clark and Kate Martin."
"Y/N L/N, the former UConn star who made headlines with her controversial transfer, had seamlessly integrated herself into the Iowa lineup. Her defensive prowess, combined with her sharp shooting skills, had brought a new dimension to the team's gameplay."
"And there she is, folks! Y/N L/N, number 89, making her presence felt on both ends of the court. She's been a force to be reckoned with tonight, shutting down opponents left and right while sinking those crucial shots when her team needs them most."
From the moment the game tipped off, Y/N was in her element. She moved with a grace and confidence that captivated the audience, her presence on the court undeniable. Within minutes, it was clear that she had found her rhythm with her new team.
"Clark passes the ball to L/N... she fakes, drives to the basket... and what a beautiful layup! L/N puts Iowa on the board first with an impressive move."
The crowd erupted in cheers, and Y/N's teammates swarmed her, sharing her excitement. Clark gave her an encouraging pat on the back as she jogged back on defense.
"That's the kind of play Iowa fans were hoping to see from L/N," the commentator continued. "She brings a fresh energy and versatility to this team."
As the game progressed, Y/N's synergy with her teammates became even more apparent. She seamlessly integrated into the flow of Iowa’s offense, making smart passes and setting effective screens.
"Clark with the ball now, looking for an opening... she finds L/N at the top of the key. L/N drives, kicks it out to Martin on the wing... and it's a three! Kate Martin nails the shot, and L/N gets the assist."
Kate Martin and Caitlin Clark were all smiles, high-fiving Y/N as they took a moment to savor the play. The three of them were quickly becoming a formidable trio on the court, their chemistry undeniable.
"Y/N L/N is not just playing well—she's thriving," the commentator observed. "Her ability to read the game and make those around her better is exactly what Iowa needed."
In the second half, Y/N continued to shine, her defensive efforts just as impressive as her offensive contributions. She hustled for rebounds, dove for loose balls, and her tenacity was infectious.
"Ohio State struggling to get past L/N's defense... and she steals it! L/N on the fast break now... passes to Clark, who finishes with a perfect layup! What a dynamic duo!"
As the final buzzer sounded, Iowa secured a decisive victory. The scoreboard read 82-67, and Y/N's performance was a significant part of that success.
"And that's the game! Iowa takes the win, and what a debut for Y/N L/N. She finishes with 12 points, 7 assists, and 5 rebounds. An all-around stellar performance."
"And there you have it, folks! A stunning performance from the Iowa Hawkeyes, led by the dynamic trio of L/N, Martin, and Clark. With players like these, the sky's the limit for this team, and the rest of the league better watch out!"
As Y/N waved to the cheering crowd, she couldn't help but smile. This was the fresh start she needed, and it was only the beginning.
──
"Great game tonight, ladies!" The reporter started, a broad smile on her face. "Y/N, this was your debut with Iowa, and you were nothing short of fantastic out there. How does it feel to be part of this team?"
You smiled, your eyes twinkling with a mix of relief and joy. "It feels incredible. The support from the coaching staff, my teammates, and the fans has been amazing. I couldn't have asked for a better start here at Iowa."
Caitlin, sitting to your right, nodded enthusiastically. "Y/N has been a fantastic addition. Her energy and skills have really brought a new dynamic to our team."
Kate Martin chimed in, a playful grin on her face. "Yeah, she fits right in. It's like she's been here all along, like seriously."
The reporter continued, "Y/N, you and Caitlin seemed to have an almost telepathic connection on the court tonight. Can you tell us a bit about how you've built such strong chemistry so quickly?"
You glanced at Caitlin, who gave you an encouraging nod. "Honestly, it's been pretty natural. Cait is such a smart player, and she makes it easy to connect and play off each other. We've been putting in a lot of extra time together, and it's really paying off."
Caitlin added, "Y/N is a hard worker, and her basketball IQ is off the charts. We clicked from day one, and it's only getting better."
Kate, not wanting to be left out, jumped in with a laugh. "Don't forget about me! The three of us have really gelled as a unit. We push each other to be better every day."
You put your arm around the blonde, earning a laugh from her. "Don't worry, Katie we wouldn't leave you out."
The reporter smiled, clearly enjoying the dynamic. "It's great to see such strong teamwork and friendship! What's next for this Iowa team? How are you planning to build on tonight's performance?"
You looked thoughtful for a moment before answering. "We're just going to keep working hard, stay focused, and take it one game at a time. Tonight was a great win, but we know there's a lot of work ahead of us."
Caitlin nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. We have high expectations for ourselves, and we know we can achieve great things if we stick together and keep pushing."
Kate leaned in, her expression serious but with a hint of a smile. "We're aiming high. We want to make a deep run this season, and with Y/N on board, we feel like we can compete with anyone."
The interview wrapped up, and as the cameras turned off, the three players shared a group hug, your bond clear for everyone to see.
As they headed back to the locker room, Caitlin threw an arm around your shoulders. "You did great tonight. Welcome to the team, officially."
Kate added, "Yeah, we're glad to have you, Y/N. And this is just the beginning, trust."
──
"The fuck," Paige grumbled as she watched the post-game interview on TV, bitterness clear on her face. Nika and Aubrey exchanged amused glances as they watched Paige, who's eyes were glued on the screens.
Despite the fallout with Paige, you were still close with the rest of the team. You wouldn't let Paige get in between you and your old team, no matter the circumstances.
Paige's gaze finally averted from the screen, looking at the girls. "Does this shit not bother you guys like, not even a little bit?"
"Nah, P." Nika responded as she sighed, leaning back on the couch. "We're proud of her."
Aubrey continued, her tone gentle but firm. "I mean, you guys dated and shit. There's bound to be some bitter feelings, y'know."
Paige scoffed, crossing her arms tightly. "Yeah, well, it still sucks seeing her over there, acting like everything's fine."
Nika gave Paige a sympathetic look. "I get it, Paige. It's hard seeing someone you care about move on, especially after everything you two went through. But she's doing what's best for her. You have to respect that."
Aubrey nodded in agreement. "And honestly, she's killing it over there. Seeing her happy and thriving makes us happy, too. It's not about choosing sides—it's about supporting our friend."
"Did you hear her?" Their words went in one ear and out the other, her gaze turning back to the TV. "Oh Katie! We'd never leave you out. Like shut up," she mocked as Aubrey let out a laugh.
It was obvious she was jealous, it was a rare sight for the usually, confident blonde. Nika and Aubrey exchanged another glance, this time with knowing smiles. They could see right through Paige's facade.
"Wow, Paige, are you actually jealous?" Aubrey teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Never thought I'd see the day."
Paige rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the blush creeping up her cheeks. "I'm not jealous," she protested, though her tone lacked conviction. "I just don't like seeing her act all buddy-buddy with them."
"Sure," Nika said, leaning back and stretching. "It's just because she's happy and thriving without you, right?"
Paige shot her a glare, but there was no real heat behind it. "Shut up, Nika."
Aubrey laughed again, patting Paige on the shoulder. "It's okay to admit you miss her, Paige. We all miss her. But she's doing what she needs to do, and we have to respect that."
"I do respect that." Paige interjected, her voice defensive. The three of them quieted down, continuing watching the TV. "I guess she has a thing for blondes," she mumbled under her breathe.
"Come on, Paige!" Nika groaned as Aubrey began to laugh uncontrollably. "Stop encouraging her, Aubrey."
Paige rolled her eyes, a faint smirk playing on her lips despite herself. "What? It's true. First me, now Kate. Seems like she has a type. Blonde, 6ft and hoopers, I mean..."
Aubrey wiped away a tear from laughing so hard. "Oh my god, Paige. You're insane."
Nika shook her head, trying to suppress her own laughter. "First, you are not 6ft. And maybe it's time to focus on your game and let Y/N do her thing. You can't keep dwelling on this."
"Yes, I am! With shoes, I am." Paige sighed, the humor fading from her expression. "And I know. It's just hard, you know? Seeing her so happy without me. Without us."
Aubrey softened, leaning in to give Paige a reassuring pat on the back. "You'll get there. It just takes time. And who knows, maybe this will be a good thing for both of you in the long run."
Paige nodded, her eyes drifting back to the screen where Y/N was still beaming in the post-game interview. "Yeah, maybe you're right."
Nika stood up, stretching her arms above her head. "Alright, enough of this. Let's hit the gym. We have a season to focus on, and we need you at your best, Paige."
Paige took a deep breath, standing up as well. "You're right. Let's go."
Aubrey joined them, a supportive smile on her face. "That's the spirit. And remember, we're here for you, no matter what."
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clockwayswrites · 11 months
Text
City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 6
WC:1288 Masterpost CW: Self-esteem issues, past abuse, past experimentation, past starvation
“Hey Kid,” Jason said after he knocked on the door. It may have been left open a crack for safety reasons, but Jason still wanted to give the kid as much privacy as they could with all this.
The kid looked up at him from the bed with wide, startled eyes.
Right.
“I’m the one with the helmet.”
“I, yeah, same outfit,” the kid mumbled but didn’t look any less wide eyed.
Jason held back a sigh “Can I come in?”
“Sure, yeah,” the kid said as he forced himself to sit up against the wall with shaky arms.
Jason took the seat that Tim had used and kept a careful distance between them, even as he leaned forward and clasped his hands. “I want you to be honest with me, Kid, because you feeling safe here is the most important thing. I’ve made some soup and I’d like you to eat it and some bread, but if you don’t feel comfortable eating something I made we can do am MRE instead. That way you can know it’s still sealed.”
“No. I mean, no to the MRE. Soup sounds…” the kid had to stop and swallow. “That sounds really good.”
“Okay, Kid,” Jason said with as gentle of a voice as he could manage right then. “It’s only going to be a small portion to start, just to give your body time to adjust, but you keep it down and are still hungry there will be more. Whenever you’re hungry there will be food, I promise, and you don’t have to do anything to earn or deserve it. You can just ask whoever is around. Hell, when you’re well enough to walk around you can get anything you want from the fridge or pantry, okay?”
The kid nodded slowly, but that wide eyed look was back. Jason was going to have to warn the others about making sure that the kid ate and knew that he had free access to the food. They should get some granola bars, chips, and bottled drinks for the kid’s room too, but only once they knew the kid wouldn’t gorge himself.
“And just to check, any allergies or restrictions? I made the soup vegan, just to be safe, but it’s got some corn starch as a thickener.”
The kid shook their head.
“Good. After you eat, if you feel up to it, it would be good for you to take a bath or shower. But if you can’t,” Jason gave a little shrug, “that’s fine too. It can be another time.”
The kid shook his head. “I want to. I mean, if I can, I want to. A shower sounds… really good.”
“Yeah, I bet it does. I’ll go get you that soup and a sports drink. I know it’s going to suck, but we’re going to want to track you staying hydrated so you’ll be drinking lots,” Jason warned to another answering nod. He closed the door most of the way behind him again as he left the bedroom.
“He was awake then?” Dick asked softly when Jason moved to fill up a bowl.
“Yeah. Hey, can you start a log? I want to track what the kid eats and drinks and when,” Jason said.
“What’s the starvation concern?” Dick asked with a little frown as he tapped on the tablet.
“Right now I’m worried about the kid not believe he can eat whenever he’s hungry, so we’ll have to keep asking. But we need to watch for gorging. Lots of small meals often right now.”
Dick nodded. “Okay. I’ll make the log and set a silent alarm for whoever’s with him every hour. Did you talk about moving safe houses?”
Jason shook his head as he place two bowls and a plate of buttered bread on a lap tray. “We’ll let him get fed and through the shower first, maybe even another nap.”
“We don’t want him to get too settled here,” Dick pointed out.
“But we also don’t want to spook him,” Jason countered.
Dick just sighed. “Fucking timing.”
Jason opened his mouth—
“And if you make a dick joke right now I will throw something at you, little wing, I am not kidding.”
Jason help his hands up in surrender for a moment before he picked up the tray and headed back to the bedroom. He knocked with his foot before he pushed the door open.
The kid had fixed the bed while Jason was out of the room. He even straightened up the mess of tools that Tim had left.
It made Jason’s stomach turn over.
“You didn’t have to clean up,” Jason said, hoping to let the kid know he didn’t have do work to stay. “Red leaves a mess wherever he goes.”
The words had the opposite effect and the kid ducked his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched.”
“Nah, it’s fine,” Jason soothed. He’d have to mention this to the others too. “It’s nice not to accidentally step on a screw or something, just that you didn’t have to. Can I set the tray on your lap?”
The kid nodded and scrambled to straighten back up. Jason was careful not to touch him as he set the tray down and made sure it was balanced.
“So I divided the veggies up differently. Which bowl do you want?”
The kid’s eyes darted between the two bowls and then up to Jason, as if trying to find the right answer.
“I don’t mind either,” Jason added, casually as he could, and sat on the bed next to the kid. “I can get more if I want it. Hell, I probably will. Spoiler always says I’m a bottomless pit with how I eat.”
Slowly, the kid reached out to scoot the bowl more more potato chunks closer to him. He glanced up at Jason from under the messy white bangs. Jason just smiled and took the other bowl for himself. He blew on a spoonful of soup before starting to eat. A beat latter, the kid did the same.
Jason ate steadily, setting a rhythm for the kid to follow, and the kid was mimicking him. It was almost like the other didn’t even know how to eat any more. For a moment, Jason had to close his eyes and breathe. The Pit Rage wasn’t what it used to be, but there was a still an anger that could burn inside him and when it did, it burned so fiercely hot. Right then, it wanted to burn whoever did this to the kid to ashes. Jason didn’t much want to stop it, but he wouldn’t risk scaring the kid for vengeance.
Not when this was his new little brother.
(He wasn’t going to mess up this time, not again.)
The sound of the spoon scraping softly against the bowl next to him trailed off. Jason kept eating, focused on his own bowl, so not to call note to it. He’d like the kid to eat a little more, but he wouldn’t push it. He’d push so little with this kid, not outside of keeping him safe.
When the barely there weight settled against Jason’s side, he froze.
Slowly he turned his head as little as possible.
The kid was tipped over, head pillowed against Jason’s arm, sound asleep.
Jason reached up with his other hand and tapped his comm twice. Dick was at the door in a flash, silent despite having obviously run. The alert bled out of Dick as he took in the sight and his face split into a grin. Silently laughing, Dick raised the tablet still in his hands and started taking photos.
Jason flicked him off for the next shot.
Damn brothers.
---
AN: Another mostly soft Trauma Tuesday! But my is poor Danny messed up... at least he has his big brothers looking after him! (Even he doesn't know that part yet.)
I no longer tag, but you can subscribe here!
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