#and I feel like more people need to see it

[lipsent]

SHOW ME WHO YOU ARE .ᐟ ── PITFIGHTER VI. been wanting to do something like this for a while now omg. i keep thinking about @shouyuus’s work and i decided to make my own version, because … i have rotted for far too long over this woman and i cannot lose any more sleep.

TAGS . . . 18+ !!! , f.reader , meeting at the bar , drunk vi , but she sobers up as she fucks you , vi yearning for you .

+ @eveningatthemoviesnetwork @thehoneypotserver @pixelcafe-network <33 tysm guys

ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI probably spotted you across the bar she always crashes into after her bloodied wins. she’d definitely give you a look and continue to stare even when you catch her, her eyes darkened and her brows furrowed as if she’d met you before and that non-existent encounter held a gory weight.

˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI pushed past all the people dancing and flailing around just to get to you. some poor guy even tripped and fell on his ass just from her drunken shove alone—and seeing as she too were fighting ghosts to keep from swaying, it couldn’t have been that strong of a push. then again—this is vi, the pitfighter champion.

ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI somehow had the balls to let loose in front of you while you were trying to dance by yourself. you surprisingly didn’t mind despite how heavy her glances were, and it was almost telepathic how you both communicated wordlessly when you allowed her hands to rest on your waist.

˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI kisses like she didn’t wreak of cheap liquor, her tongue nearly pinning your own down from how aggressive she was with needing to feel you on her. chest to chest, she supported your back when she continued to push against you like she knew she had this horrible habit of greed, of needing everything from something as sweet as you in three seconds, physical limitations be damned.

ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI cursed herself when she grabbed your hand and led you back to her room, knowing exactly how disgusting and grimy her sweat-filled bed was and had of course decided she’d rather get a slap to the face for even thinking you’d ever lie down on that thing than not try at all. what do you take her for, a madwoman? with a girl like you, she would be if she didn’t take you somewhere when you gave her enthusiastic consent.

˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI seems like she’s begging to get lockjaw when her tongue swirls anxiously around your clit, every so often flicking upwards in that sweet spot she’d discovered made you squeal and arch your back. how you reached new heights in both your moans and your nerves when she very carefully slipped a finger in, her thumb replacing her tongue when she rose up again and let you taste yourself on her tongue without warning. you grabbed her shoulders as if you want to shove her away, and when she entertains the idea that you could in fact hold a candle to her strength, she just huffed and smiled before going, “you opened your mouth, princess. don’t tell me you didn’t like that.”

ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI finally gets to fucking you and holy shit she was waiting so painfully long for you—her first strokes of her clit against your own were rough from the very start, both of you soaking and bubbling from everything that had been happening tonight—except she held out on her own pleasure just so she could see you come undone on her tongue and fingers. She bucks her hips against you roughly and the initial contact is explosive—you both moan in unison, yours higher and shakier as if racing her to something. you fell limp right after that first stroke and she continued to hold your leg up against her, hips bucking at a frenzied pace like she could see your orgasm approaching quickly, stopping at nothing to claw and fight to bring it back down to earth and let it spill all over her.

˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI has a death grip on your thighs and your waist when you cum, making sure you don’t squirm away now as your clit and hers throb in an unspoken rhythm like they’ve done this before and have made their shapes match perfectly with where contact is made and rubbed and heightened. You’re certain there’ll be bruises where her thumbs dug into her skin, and you can see it on her face the way one corner of her lips turn up just because she managed not to dig her nails into your skin but oh fuck is it going to bruise. she doesn’t even seem to realize, she’s too drunk on your clit to think now.

ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI cums and you scream because she pushes her clit all the way up yours like she wants to take up all of you in a capacity physically and biologically impossible for either of you—but she pulls your leg and waist towards her anyway, screaming your name when she cums and she pants, letting her grip lax finally as half-mast black-smeared eyes drag up your body from one last lick of the view before she collapses next to you, both of you panting and taking in the liquor and sweat.

˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI found the strength in her to somehow get up and pass you her waterbottle. when you tried to sit up, you winced and she snapped her head back to you only to put the waterbottle aside and slide a leg under your knee, her left arm slipping under the curves and lumps of your back and its bones before lifting you like you were wind ready to slip away. “hey woah woah—i’ve got you,” she muttered and you swore stars circled your head at how incredibly gentle she sounded, as if someone else’s sweet, unused and unexercised voice made it into such a hard-trained throat and still managed to stay soft despite everything. her hand’s grip was tight but her arms were so stable you might as well have been lying on a rock or a bumpy wall.

ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI lent you her jacket when she offered to at least send you off to wherever you needed to be in the morning. you were about to shrug the jacket off when it was time to leave but she chuckled weakly as her hands weigh it down on your shoulders, keeping it there before going, “nah, return it to me when we see each other next time. i’ll be at the bar every night.”

˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI lost her mind even more than she already had when you didn’t return for the next three days. her punching bag broke from its chain, stuffing blasting in her face and she had to go through one hell of a hassel to get a new one. but all she thought of was you and so she was ending fights quicker, thinning her voice and reducing it to a coarse hair of a sound from all the screaming. even if she had wiped the spot where both of you came, she flipped her mattress the moment she found the stain.

ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI jacked off to you eventually, needing to forget you quickly but after cumming found that it just might be her end because she can’t forget how sweet you smell, the taste of you somehow still lingering even when a week or two has gone by and she’s weakened by the lack of your essence—not just from your clit but from the saccharine flowers that you managed to plant in her head and her chest with the memory of your smile, eyes narrowed like it was making room for such a pretty thing. she can’t breathe when she jacks off to you, remembering how your hips twitched into her at how good her clit felt against yours.

[pboogerswbb]

DON'T KNOW HOW

Paige Bueckers x reader In which Paige is high off a great game and wants to celebrate by fucking you in her jersey. Warnings: sexual content (SMUT, FILTHY FR BEWARNED), strap, slight humiliation, breeding kink, language, etc etc Wordcount: 4K A/C: this is my 1K followers surprise for y'all! YOU FINALLY GET STRAP ik you guys been begging for it (freaks). anyway thank you so much for all of you for supporting me and reading what i write, i appreciate it a lot more than you guys even know. never thought i'd have 1k followers on here so tysm, ily all <3 now go have some fun reading (ok especially to my moots ilysm, i am so fucking happy i met all of you i love each and every single one of you so bad and i always always always got your back, ty for being the best people in the world)

-

“And it’s good, another three for Bueckers.”

“She's on fire. Been hitting those all night and making it look effortless too.”

“Seventh three of the night wow.”

The entire evening Paige had been like a sniper, shots going in with even more ease than normal. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from her blonde ponytail, the wide shoulders nearly too big for the navy Uconn jersey, glistening with sweat as the fourth quarter comes to an end. 31 points. You couldn’t be prouder to call her your girlfriend.

The crowd stands up, you jumping up and down and clapping with them, the white jersey tucked into your bra to crop it, proudly carrying your girl’s name on your back. Another victory for Uconn, as your girlfriend allows herself a small smile after the extraordinary game she just played. You wait patiently. What feels like close to an hour of the blonde shaking hands, signing jerseys and giving out interviews she finally meets your eyes from the opposite side of the court, jogging towards you.

“Babyyy!” You gleam as she wraps her strong, sticky arms around you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Seven threes is crazy,” you praise your girlfriend.

“Yeah?” Paige asks, a smug grin on her face as she pulls back and looks at you. “Missed two cause my girl look so fine.”

An involuntary blush spreads to your face as the girl’s blue eyes scam your body up and down.

“You like?” You ask with a sly smile, twirling for her. Paige lets out a low whistle, hand coming to hold your waist.

“Fuck you look hot in that jersey,” she murmurs, eyeing the way it sits on your body. You can see it in your girlfriend’s eyes - the way they were darkening in the way they always did when she needed you. 

Feeling flustered, you decide to change the topic, knowing she shouldn’t be eyefucking you in front of these cameras and fans. “So are we still going out with the team tonight? We should celebrate your big win baby.”

Paige laughs hoarsely, in that fuckboy way she does. “We ain’t going out mama, we going straight home.”

You know exactly what she means. Exactly what would happen when you get home. The idea is already making your stomach flip.

“Paige… It was a big night for you, we sh-”

“No disrespect but you need to shut up,” she sternly silences you. “You really think you’re gon’ look like this and not be folded in half in about an hour? Baby, c’mon.”

-

 “Paige stop!” You giggle, her hands holding your waist underneath the jersey, fingertips against your bare skin squeezing as she kisses your neck hungrily. Your hands are fumbling with the key, attempting to open the door to your apartment. Something you were finding extremely hard as the blonde behind you presses her hips into yours, sucking a dark red mark on your neck.

“Open the door,” Paige pants, her voice breathy and hoarse. It’s more a command than a request. Finally, you turn the key and the girl pushes you in with urgency, closing the door behind you.

Before you can say a word, the blonde is throwing you over her shoulder, making you squeal and giggle. 

“Put me down!”

“No ma’am,” she laughs, long strides heading towards the bedroom fast. With a grunt your girlfriend lowers you onto the bed, landing you on the soft mattress. Both of you are giggling as she eyes you on the bed, licking her lower lip.

“Wait here baby,” she coos, disappearing into the walk-in wardrobe. Once she returns, there’s an apparent bulge underneath the grey basketball shorts. Your imagination begins to go wild, heat growing between your thighs at the idea of what she had strapped on underneath. Paige had done it before, coming up behind you, the strap poking into your ass under her sweats to let you know what she was in the mood for. It drove you completely wild each time.

“Take your clothes off,” the blonde commands from the doorway, pulling her hoodie off and throwing it on the floor. You know what happens when Paige wants something and doesn’t get it, so you kick off the boots and denim skirt you’re wearing. Your girlfriend follows every move with watchful eyes, tutting once your fingers begin to tuck the jersey off.

“Leave that shit on,” Paige says, walking over to you on the bed. You lie on your back, watching up at her in the sheer white panties and white jersey and an unbearable ache between your thighs.

Paige’s shoulders look broad and filled out in the black sports bra she’s wearing, lower lip trapped between her teeth as her fingertips brush against the soft skin of your thigh.

“Look so fucking sexy,” she murmurs, her voice low and raspy. You needed her, badly. So you bring your hand to her core and just as you expected, feel the thick, purple strap underneath the fabric. Wrapping your fingers around the bulge, you rub it as if it’s her actual dick, just like the blonde liked to imagine.

Paige lets out a low groan, squeezing the skin on your thigh. 

“You want it?” She asks. It’s not a genuine question, she knows the answer. She can tell by the way you’re squirming, rubbing your thighs together. The way your brows are furrowed in desperation.

“I do,” you whimper, biting your lip and blinking up at the girl with round eyes in the way that drove her crazy. Works every time, and this is no exception, your girlfriend letting out a breathy sigh and throwing her head back.

“Yeah? How bad ma?” She asks, hand slowly inching closer to the edge of your panties, fingertips nearly sliding underneath.

“So bad baby,” you whine, arching your back, hand still working the strap through her shorts. “Just feel,” with a whimper, you grab the blonde’s hand teasing you and slide it inside your panties.

Both of you moan, your wetness covering her fingers the second she feels you.

“Fuck, you this wet just for me?”

“All for you baby,” you whimper. “Love watching you play.”

Paige grins, rubbing gentle circles on your clit already growing puffy and sensitive from how bad your body aches for her, the idea of her strap buried deep inside you making you eager, the wait nearly unbearable.

A sigh spills from your lips as the blonde pulls her hand away, her fingers coming to your mouth and slipping past your lips making you taste yourself. Your eyes flutter shut, lips wrapping around her long digits. Paige hisses, watching closely.

“That shit ain’t fair, I need to taste you too.”

With that, Paige is pulling you to the edge of the bed by your legs, kneeling on the floor face to face with your core. With a swift movement, the blonde’s fingers hook onto your panties and pulls them down.

“Holy shit baby I ain’t even fuck you yet, why you this wet?” Paige groans at the way your cunt glistens in the light, her arms wrapping around your thighs to hold you still for her. You could feel just how wet you were, your slick spilling out of you right under your girlfriend’s gaze.

“Couldn’t help it,” you whimper, attempting to buck your hips but for nothing. You weren’t going to be touched until Paige decided so.

“Yeah couldn’t help it cause you’re such a slut huh?”

The blonde’s lips roam your inner thighs, nibbling and sucking on the skin leaving behind little red marks as a reminder of the night for later. 

“Answer me,” she demands, but it barely registers, her hot breath on your core forcing goosebumps to form all over your skin. It’s driving you wild, every inch of your body on fire for her.

Suddenly a hand reaches to your jaw and firmly grabs it, Paige tilting your face towards her.

“Answer me.”

Suddenly even more flustered, your face turns red, needing her even more. “Only for you Paige.”

“Good girl, now lie down.”

The girl lets go of your jaw and suddenly her mouth is on you, tongue everywhere in your folds, licking you up like she’s been starved for life. A loud moan escapes your mouth, hands immediately flying to the blonde, soft hair of your girlfriend. 

She’s hungry for it, the victorious game leaving her starving. Her lips wrap around your clit and suck harshly, making you gasp and yank on her hair. But she won’t quit, hands coming to spread you further apart, trying to find a way to get closer in a moment of desperation.

“Oh… fuck baby,” you whimper, legs already shaking as she eats you, tongue swirling in your folds, moving from side to side. Paige hums against you, the sound vibrating against your cunt. She has you leaking like a faucet, not wasting a single drop as she kisses her way down, circling your entrance before her tongue slides in.

“P-paige,” you cry out, overwhelmed by the pace she was moving at, not giving your body time to adjust, leaving you breathless. But she couldn’t care less about your protest, eyes rolling back as she presses closer to you, the bridge of her nose pressing against your clit.

You’re squirming, legs shaking and eyes rolling back as you tug on her hair, whimpers quickly turning more high pitched.

“Perfect pussy,” she groans, practically just to herself. Her tongue presses flat against you in long licks along your slit. Biting your lower lip you look down at the blonde girl kneeled on the floor between your legs and for a moment your eyes meet hers.

With an arrogant smirk Paige brings her tongue flat onto your clit and shakes her head back and forth skillfully, knowing it drives you crazy each time. The glimmer in her eye doesn’t help, making your back arch and head tilt back against the mattress.

“Gonna fuck this pussy,” the girl murmurs against you, the tip of her tongue speeding up on your clit, flicking it back and forth. She’s determined to make you cum. And when Paige was determined, there was nothing that could stop her.

It doesn’t take more than a few minutes and your entire body’s writhing under Paige’s mercy. She’s desperately eating you up, taking turns working you with her tongue and mouth, sucking and licking everywhere. It’s overwhelming, too much and not enough at the same time. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, right there,” you gasp, eyes rolling back as her tongue circles your clit.

“You gonna cum ma?”

“Yes, yes, fuck baby.”

Your hands are tugging on her hair hard, but the blonde doesn’t mind. The moans spilling from her mouth reveal quite the opposite. The familiar pit somewhere deep in your gut begins to burn, forcing your back to arch off the bed. The jersey on your body hikes up, Paige’s hand scratching on your lower stomach as she keeps working tirelessly, like the strain in her jaw wasn’t there.

“Paige I’m go-”

“Cum for me mama.”

And that’s enough, the coil in your stomach snapping the moment her words register in your hazy mind. The heat from your core spreads all over your body, waves of pleasure washing over you. The room is filled with the sounds of your high pitched moans, and the satisfied hums of the blonde between your legs sucking on your clit. Sweat drips down the back of her neck but it doesn’t matter. She’s not even close to done. 

Paige stands up from the floor, leaving you trembling before her, still getting over your orgasm.

“Cmere,” Paige says, licking her lips hungrily and sliding her hand into her shorts to stroke the strap as if an extension of herself. Body still recovering, you do as you’re told knowing the blonde didn’t like waiting. Kneeling on the bed, your eyes flicker from the bulge under the fabric to her blue eyes looking down at you. They’re heavy and dark, her jaw prominent and chest heaving with need.

“Take em off,” she demands, your hands wasting no time finding the band of her shorts and pulling them to her ankles, revealing the purple strap underneath. Paige’s hands wrap around it and stroke, tapping the tip all over your face. Without much thought your mouth parts, eyes locked onto your girlfriend’s. 

“Push your tongue out, be a good girl,” Paige groans, brows in a deep frown as she tries to catch her breath but it seems impossible with the way your big eyes stare up at her with your mouth open. She’s dizzy with want.

The moment your tongue slips out of your mouth, Paige is slapping the tip on it and moaning as if she could feel it herself - your warm mouth wrapping around her cock.

“That’s it, fuck ma,” Paige hisses, watching your tongue circling the length of the strap. “Get it wet for me.”

Bopping your head forward carefully, you take more of the strap into your mouth, saliva quickly building up and dripping down the corners of your mouth. 

“Look so pretty baby,” the blonde coos, gathering your hair into her fist and holding it back for you. “You like sucking my cock?”

With a slight smile you nod with the strap still filling your mouth. The sight is enough to make your girlfriend moan, and her grip in your hair tightens as she forces the strap down your throat, making every inch disappear into your mouth. 

“Mmph,” you whine, tears quickly welling up in your eyes. The sound of you gagging mingle with Paige’s low grunts, your nails digging into her muscular thighs. Paige can’t look away, you look too pretty to look away. Finally pulling on your hair, she allows you a second to gasp for air before returning and guiding your mouth on her cock, never breaking eye contact until your eyes roll back. Surely the strap was wet enough already, spit spilling from your mouth all over its length. But Paige is enjoying this too much to stop.

“You wanna get that pussy fucked huh?” The blonde grunts, pulling your head back with a string of saliva dripping down onto your chest.

“Please,” you whimper, your cunt throbbing, begging to feel the plastic inside you.

“Think you deserve it? Think you deserve my cock?”

“Baby need it,” you cry out, letting Paige rub the soaked tip against your lips and face, messing up your makeup. She always thought this was the best you looked, desperate, eyes red and glossy, mascara flaking underneath your eyes and begging for her. She couldn’t resist any longer.

“Turn around,” she murmurs and you do as she says, facing the other way on your hands and knees.

“Should I take the jersey off?” 

“Keep that shit on ma,” Paige says sternly, hissing as she rubs the tip of the purple strap against your soaked folds. Already whimpering, you grip the soft sheets tightly, feeling the blonde’s hands caressing your ass and waist, lifting the jersey just enough to see your lower back. “Fuuuckkk baby,” she praises, watching as the strap begins to glisten just from the sheer wetness spilling out of you. “She crying for me huh?”

“Yes,” is all you can muster to say, stomach flipping as the tip teases your entrance, everything you wanted so close yet so far. Your slick is already dripping on the plastic, Paige letting out a shaky moan behind you at the sight. 

“Shit, this pussy loves me,” she groans, gripping your hips and at last sliding the length inside you. A loud gasp escapes your body, the stretch so intense and powerful. 

“Oh shiiiit,” Paige hisses, watching the way your cunt stretches around the strap, swallowing her up. The trembling of your body is immediate, the blonde leaning down and kissing over your shoulders and neck. “Feel good mama?”

“Y-yeah baby,” you’re still breathless, body slowly adjusting to the size. 

“You tryna get fucked?”

“Mhm,” you hum, needy for your girlfriend to begin moving behind you. But she remains still.

Her big hand grips your ass harshly, slapping the skin leaving you with a slight burn. “Work for it mama, show me how bad you want it.”

You immediately know what she wants, craving to have you whimpering and pleading before she’ll give you what you crave. Paige always had to tease you just a little further than you could handle.

So you begin to move forward and back again, slowly pressing your ass against her. The strap slips in and out easily, but the size keeps you overwhelmed, slick dripping onto the sheets as you throw it back for your girlfriend, arching your back just right.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp, legs already feeling weak, hands balled into fists as your girlfriend’s hand slaps your ass again, the sound echoing around the room.

“Look at that,” she praises, letting out a shaky low moan as the vibrator against her clit buzzes. But you can barely hear, mind spinning and not a single coherent thought in your head anymore. “Such a fuckin’ slut.”

The nickname makes you whine, craning your neck to see the blonde behind you, eyes locked onto where your body is swallowing her strap up. Her mouth is wide open and cheeks burning red, she wants it just as bad as you do.

Her blue eyes travel up your spine to the jersey, grabbing a handful of your hair to hold up. To allow her to admire the way the jersey fits your body. Her name, her number on you as she fucks you. It’s enough to get her bewildered.

Meeting your eyes the blonde smirks, chest heaving with need. “You like that? When I call you that?”

You nod, maintaining eye contact as you grind your hips back into her.

Paige shakes her head in disbelief, hissing again as the vibrator angles against her just right. 

“Course you do, fuckin’ slut.”

Your upper body crashes against the bed, too tired to hold it up, ass remaining in the air.

“Paigeee,” you whine, begging for her to take control, legs too shaky to continue.

“What’s wrong mama?”

It’s almost sadistic, her tone. She knows exactly what’s wrong. But it wasn’t enough, Paige had to hear you say it, getting off on humiliating you just a little longer.

“Please.”

“Please what?”

You whine again in frustration, wiggling your ass in the air. But Paige remains stern.

“Fuck me,” you whimper, making the blonde smirk and lick her lower lip.

“Yeah? Is that what you want?”

You nod in desperation, letting her pull your face up from the sheets by your hair, other hand coming to hold your hip.

“Gonna fuck you so good,” she leans down and groans into your ear. “Gon’ fuck you until you cry.”

With that, her hips slam into you, the intrusion so intense you can’t help the way your eyes roll back. You gasp, Paige letting go of your hair and standing back up behind you, both hands on gripping your waist, fucking her hips into you at such a pace it’s making you see stars.

“Ohhh shit,” the blonde grunts, watching the way your ass jiggles as her hips slam against you. The sound of skin clapping and the squelching of the strap deep inside you fills the room, only thing cutting through are your joint moans.

“Baby fuck-” you cry out, part of you wanting to push her away from how crushing her thrusts are, the strap buried deep inside your soaked pussy.

“Look at you takin it, fuck baby,” Paige groans, right hand smoothing over her last name on the jersey. Over the number she wears each game.  “Takin’ my dick while wearing my name. So fucking good f’me.”

Your cunt is throbbing, squeezing the strap making it hard to think clearly. You wanted more, wanted less, you weren’t sure. But you could feel your eyes growing wet against the sheets. Paige’s hand travels all the way up to your hair, grabbing it harshly and shoving your face into the mattress.

“You take it like a slut huh?” 

You moan, feeling your slick dripping down your thighs, surely covering Paige’s legs now as well.

“Your slut baby,” you whimper, upper body pressed snug against the soft cotton as the blonde pounds her strap into you.

“Aww fuck- good girl,” Paige gasps, the vibrations having her legs shaking. With a swift movement, the blonde manhandles you onto your back, placing your legs onto her shoulders, sliding the purple strap back inside you.

“Need to see your face,” she groans, eyelids so heavy they’re barely open as she keeps fucking you. “Need to see you cum on my cock.”

“Baby, so big,” you cry out, eyes rolling back as the blonde kneels on the bed and leans forward, folding you over with ease.

“Take it so well tho,” Paige coos, bringing her face to yours, hand wrapping around your neck as she keeps slamming her hips into you. That athlete’s stamina could have her going like this for an hour. “Gonna cum inside this pussy.”

Her words leave you a moaning mess, your hands scratching at her shoulders leaving red marks behind. “Fuck,” you whimper, eyes squeezed shut.

“Fucking you so hard you’re gon’ have my kids.”

The squelching becomes louder, wetness dripping out of you as Paige’s strap hits deeper than before, making you gasp and scratch her soft skin harder.

“Aw- fuc- shit, ma that’s it. So deep in your guts,” she rambles, eyes beginning to roll back, trying to hold back on her orgasm. She brings her fingers between your legs, thumb beginning to rub lazy circles on your clit as the strap slips in and out of you, fucking into you at a rapid pace.

“P-Paige feel so good,” you cry out, gushing around the plastic desperately. Paige’s head lulls back and forth, fighting her orgasm. 

“Mama I need to cum inside you, needa fill you with my cum,” the blonde whimpers, voice growing more high pitched as she nears the edge, fucking her hips into you with such force you think you might black out. The familiar burn ignites at her words, pussy throbbing around the plastic, muscles beginning to coil in your stomach.

“Shi- baby I need you to cum on my cock,” she gasps, eyes squeezing shut, grip around your neck tightening enough to make you lightheaded.

“Paige I-” You cry out, Paige’s thumb pressing into your clit and the tip of the strap hitting the perfect spot with each stroke. 

“C’mon ma, lemme fill you up,” she whimpers desperately, legs shaking but never easing the pace. You can’t hold it anymore, letting go and allowing the fire to take over your body.

“Paige I’mma cum,” you gasp, the blonde letting out a moan of relief.

“Gonna cum inside you,” Paige grunts into your neck, as you lie underneath, helpless. Your back begins to arch off the bed, the blonde squeezing the sides of your neck and pinning you down, hips slamming into you. “Gonna fill this pussy aw- up- fuck.”

With that you’re both gasping, rolling over the edge as your climax takes over, pussy squeezing the strap tightly and gushing around it, all over the sheets and Paige on top of you.

“Oh shit-” Paige gasps, breath hot in your ear as she finishes, your mind blank as the ecstasy takes over your body, leaving you trembling underneath the girl, eyes shut tight.

“Holy shit,” the blonde murmurs, trying to catch her breath. Your chest is heaving and your face flushed. As your eyes flutter open, they’re met with the blue of Paige’s irises. She scooches both of you up the bed, crashing on top of you, the plastic still inside you, almost soothing. You wince as she pulls it out carefully, leaving you with an uncomfortable emptiness.

“You’re so great baby,” Paige sighs, resting her head in the crook of your neck. You wrap your arms and legs around your girlfriend, pressing a gentle kiss onto her forehead. “My number one girl.”

“You really like this jersey huh?” You chuckle as her pink lips kiss your collarbone, neck, jawline and finally your lips.

“Let’s everyone know you mine,” she coos, nuzzling her nose into you and rubbing the skin on your midriff where the fabric has hiked up.

“All yours baby,” you hum, body worn and tired but heart fluttering with love.

“All mine ma.”

-

taglist: @thaatdigitaldiary @sierrale8ne @bueckersfive @d3arapril @bueckersbitch @rosemariiaa @makethemhoesmad @xxloveralways14 @omg-imtumbling @she-is-my-unrequited-love34 @thelightknight21 @vamptizm @ohmybueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @avvwritesstufff @authentic-girl03

[housepartyprotocol]

Maple leaves

Hockey player!Oscar Piastri x driver!reader

Summary: YN is a Redbull driver and gets introduced to a certain NHL team, and a certain player Masterlist / TipJar

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, and mapleleafs and 42,639 others

oscarpiastri Coming to the end of the season strong!

view all 105 comments

user he is such a man whore lordy look at him

user delectable user how is he not taken user HES SINGLE !?!

user raw. next question.

user UNHINGED

user I wanna move to Canada to breathe the same air as him

user I am from his hometown in Australia and that's my biggest achievement

ynusername

liked by maxverstappen, landonorris, alexalbon and 532,620 others

ynusername Just a day of packing while wearing my teammates merch

view all 402 comments

user redbull merch is redbull merch regardless of the driver

user soft launching ...

user i doubt it, max has a baby coming user omg DILF

maxverstappen we all know you are immediately unpacking that suitcase

ynusername the things i do for the aesthetic maxverstappen and why would you pack a book you finished a month ago ynusername huh how maxverstappen i follow your Goodreads, we need to talk ynusername NO IGNORE MY READS user shes a smut reader omg user that wasn't on my bingo card

landonorris AUSTRALIAAAAAA

ynusername TIME FOR THONGS ynuersname that sounds strange ynusername nope im sticking with flipflops user HAH landonorris I WANNA WEAR A THONG landonorris ;)

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, and mapleleafs and 35,747 others

oscarpiastri I'm homesick

view all 97 comments

user Melbourne mention

user 5 minutes and a hair tie

user go to horny jail

user I got this just after the F1 post about the season starting in MELBOURNE

user crossover user no because a F1 x NHL crossover would be so sick! user @ F1 HEAR OUR WISHES

ynusername

liked by maxverstappen, landonorris, yukitsunoda and 654,224 others

ynusername it feels good to be back

view all 398 comments

user the queen is back on her throne

user WINNERR user since she got in the redbull she is a force to be reckoned with user she deserves everything

user shes a bitch

user GET OUT SHOO OUT

landonorris I hate you

ynusername I hate you too ynusername I hate the mullet landonorris NOT THE MULLET alexalbon NOT THE MULLET maxverstappen that was low, holy hell

landonorris

liked by ynusername, maxverstappen, oscarpiastri and 745,221 others

landonorris managed to get tickets to see my favourite hockey team. Took a doofus and now shes a bigger fan than me. Owns more merch than me

view all 573 comments

user they are such a cute couple omg

user they aren't user they aren't ?? user nope they just friends since karting

ynusername I slayyed that photoshoot

landonorris you are welcome ynusername I am learning more about the game every time I watch now ynusername would it be traitorous to switch teams now, i like this Jack Hughes with the devils landonorris NO YOU WILL STAY A MAPLE FAN user YN x Jack Hughes would be so cute user god all people do is ship her with people

mapleleafs Come back soon

landonorris WE WILL user F1 x NHL crossover LOOMING

oscarpiastri

liked by ynusername, landonorris, and mapleleafs, 29,977 others

oscarpiastri Ending the season cold, always.

view all 87 comments

user I wanna be that ice water

user that's such a strange way to say you find him hot user I wanna be it too though

user I can't believe we now have to wait like half a year for more ice bath pics

user I am so sad that the hockey is almost over but the F1 is just starting !! so my calendar is always full

user He can't be single, look at this man

ynusername

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen, pierregasly, and 587,964 others

ynusername MIAMIIIIIII (cue feral behaviour)(yes redbull admin this is non-alcoholic, no drunk driving)

view all 306 comments

user THIS IS MIAMI

user her and lando become demons in Miami user it is so fun

maxverstappen maybe not that one, but the others..

ynusername don't spread such BLASPHEMY maxverstappen you remained sober completely ynusername I did, i just drank alot of caffeine landonorris ah a proper redbull advocate

user WHY DID I AGAIN SCROLL TO THIS FROM A NHL POST

user what NHL post? user the post Oscar Piastri did about him and some of this teammates at the Miami GP user OMG WHY ARE THEY THERE user Idk, they must be fans

oscarpiastri

liked by ynusername, landonorris, and redbullracing, and 42,875 others

oscarpiastri This getting into a new sport thing is fun

view all 121 comments

user NHL x F1 crossover !

user omg yes my life is complete user I am now trying to work out which of his teammates are F1 fans

user He is such a cutie

user OKAY I NEED OSCAR X YN CONTENT NOW

user they have never interacted user true, they could though

ynusername

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen, oscarpiastri and 604,887 others

ynusername had a wonderful time. suck it lando I got an autograph.

view all 435 others

user i love it when famous people are fans of other famous people

user whose signature is that?

user I think it is Oscar Piastri, he was there, and he plays for the Toronto Maple Leafs user she is now such a fan, everyone thank Lando

landonorris I got an autograph too

ynusername yeah you got a piece of paper signed landonorris it was the back of an important document mclaren what ynusername HA ynusername and you called me crazy for packing my hat landonorris you were crazy, but it paid off

user couple alert

user calm tf down

redbullracing

liked by ynuersname, maxverstappen, oscarpiastri and 104,520 others

redbullracing Just Leaving This Here

view all 153 comments

user OKAY maybe redbull got the team tickets to Miami...

user OMGOMGOMGOMGGG

user what are the Toronto Maple Leafs?

user they are an NHL team user huh user hockey

user okay so players in a car or drivers on the ice

user DRIVERS ON ICE PLEASE

ynusername

liked by maxverstappen, landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 548,125 others

ynusername some recent vibes

view all 355 comments

user HOT HANDS GAWD

user omg shes lucky is that her boyfriend

user they look like Lando's hands user no he wouldnt wear that watch though

danielricciardo giddyup

ynusername aren't my boots beautiful danielricciardo need them in my life ynusername don't think they are your size

landonorris very neutral aesthetic, very demure

user WHERE DID HE LEARN THAT ynusername why yes ynusername but don't say that again its weird from you maxverstappen you can call me demure Lando ynusername you are anything but demure landonorris ignore her, max you are very demure ynusername EVERYONE STOP SAYING DEMURE

user shes taken? i thought she was single

user no one is confirming either way user who? user no idea

redbullracing

liked by ynusername, maxverstappen, oscarpiastri and 210,526 others

redbullracing admin can happily say they died of laughter in the making of this...

view all 98 comments

user omg YN and Max ice skating with the team?

user god why won't drivers just stick to racing what's with all this unnecessary extra stuff

user YN so campaigned for this crossover to annoy Lando that she met the team

user I would too, have you seen them, like Oscar Piastri, DAMN

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, ynusername, mapleleafs, and 40,545 others

oscarpiastri Back home in time for the start of another dose of winter

view all 85 comments

user he just leaves these here and doesn't address them. Sir this is a thirst trap

user all he does is thirst trap (no one complain) user do you think if he gets a girlfriend he will stop thirst-trapping user i hope NOT user i'll just have to resort to Pinterest

user wait if he is in Australia then did he not take part in the Redbull F1 thing

user I think they have already filmed it user PHEW

ynusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen, and 600,010 others

ynusername Spain you were perfect

view all 230 comments

user redbull domination!

user the queen is leading the championship!!

user YESS user I hope she wins!

user god she's hot

user god you only watch the racing for the hot drivers woah user no that's stupid as fuck user sorry just felt appropriate to turn tables for once

maxverstappen you make me take a million photos of you and you don't even credit me

ynusername gosh i am sooooo sorry (not) ynusername everyone thank Max for taking the photo of me user thank you landonorris thank you ynusername why you landonorris you said everyone!

maxverstappen thats true you did, thank you Lando

user Why are we still waiting for Redbull racing to release the hockey crossover!

oscarpiastri

liked by ynusername, landonorris, redbullracing and 61,813 others

oscarpiastri Go check out the newest video on both Toronto Maple Leafs and Redbull Racings youtube!!

view all 98 comments

user OMG DID YOU SEE IT

user YN cannot SKATE HOLY HELL

user Oscar making goo goo eyes at that girl the entire time

user you mean YN, Redbull racing F1 driver user you have a lot to learn, she is amazing

user the camera panning as Max Verstappen just slowly skated directly into the wall and then fell over

user I DIED

user I came for the crossover, i stayed for this man WOOF

user I thought the girl in that youtube what his girlfriend user dont think so

user YUMMY

maxverstappen

liked by ynusername, landonorris, oscarpiastri and 514,657 others

maxverstappen What I felt like while filming. What YN looked like while filming. And then that.

view all 193 comments

user she is just FLAT

user im sorry Max that photo does not fit them vibe, its too hot

user you are so right

user She could not skate

user max was worse he is just hiding it!

ynusername you have done me so dirty, i will never forgive you

maxverstappen oh no, what ever will i do now ynusername i will run you off the track redbullracing no you wont ynusername no I wont maxverstappen haha mum told you off ynusername bully

landonorris she was so shit, serves her right

ynusername FOR WHAT landonorris FOR MEETING LOADS OF THE TEAM ynusername yeah I did do that, SUCK IT maxverstappen children, not in the comments

ynusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, georgerussell and 622,548 others

ynusername got myself a red hot date

view all 353 comments

user MAMA

user the hand placement, she knows what she is doing

user I wanna be her

user I want to be both of them, I am undecided

landonorris this is why you were being evasive about whether you were coming out with us or not

ynusername guilty as charged ynusername can you blame me landnorris I dont swing like that but no i do not maxverstappen do you know who that is landonorris I might im not sure, hold on ill text you user NO LANDO KEEP IT HERE WE NEED TO KNOW

oscarpiastri

liked by ynusername, landonorris, redbullracing, and 70,623 others

oscarpiastri Really liking this racing thing

view all 53 comments

user HES AT SILVERSTONE OMG

user SIR what you doing there

user the redbull garage, he was so invited by YN

user or max... or the team user I bet by YN so much

user no thirst trap..

user that photo is cute user yes but where is the HOT user has he been domesticated...

landonorris

liked by ynusername, maxverstappen, oscarpiastri, and 655,012 others

landonorris Party. Party. Party.

view all 293 comments

user what is in the water, its thirst trap after thirst trap

user shush you'll spook them away

user I want that man

ynusername Slut

landonorris you are calling me a slut? ynusername man whore ynusername bully landonorris what did i do landonorris OH i see what i did landonorris HOW DO I DELETE A PIC ynusername GRRRR

user DID LANDO JUST EXPOSE YN RELATIONSHIP

user NO IT LOOKS LIKE IT user DAMN ITS BLURRY WHO IS THAT

ynusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, alexalbon and 532,124 others

ynusername You know I dont love a london boy

view all 291 comments

user she is dropping hints!

user that mans back, yum

user this is so aesthetic

landonorris this is humorous

ynusername how so landonorris you down bad ynusername who said that landonorris everything you are doing, it is as new you landonorris i take credit ynusername HOW landonorris ;)

maxverstappen I feel like as your teammate i need to give you the talk after all of these photos

ynusername EW NO you arent my dad maxverstappen I wasnt saying that, its more, big brother vibes landonorris Ill join in ynusername gosh, i hate you all maxverstappen young lady!

user why is lando taking credit

user did he introduce them? user hear me out, introduced YN to his team... Becuase its Oscar Piastri user who?

oscarpiastri

liked by ynusername, landonorris, mapleleafs, and 63,201 others

oscarpiastri recently

view all 82 comments

user HES TAKEN

user bye bye thirst traps

user i wanna be her omg

user do you think she is canadian or australian user she could be neither

user he looks GOOOD

user he HAS been domesticated user it looks good on him

ynusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, maxverstappen, and 684,886 others

ynusername he is definitely not a London boy

view all 394 comments

user he is an ASSUIE BOY

user i feel like im suppose to know who that is

user its Oscar Piastri user ill google

user shes so lucky

user HE is so lucky

landonorris if you switch teams now, its divorce

ynusername i knowwwww ynusername i'll just dream out the Red Devils oscarpiastri you will do no such thing, I am not moving teams landonorris See even he agrees ynusername I hate you both

maxverstappen lets keep it PG in front of the children

maxverstappen happy for you pipsqueak ynusername we agreed to never use that name again maxverstappen sorry, happy for you teammate ynusername better, ish ynusername thank you <3 ynusername ALso what part is NOT pg

user F1 x NHL crossover FOREVERRRR

oscarpiastri

liked by ynusername, landonorris, maxverstappen, and 81,235 others

oscarpiastri I think I officially love this racing thing

view all 102 comments

user RIP Oscar Piastri thirst traps

user RIP user RIP

user He is down bad, its cute

ynusername Yum

oscarpiastri what? ynusername nothing, just you ;) user she is just like us I fear

user she is so pretty

user him being decked out in her merch just feels right

user him going to all the races!

landonorris YN WE GOING TO ALL THE MATCHES

ynusername fans for life babygirl landonorris ew why babygirl oscarpiastri yeah.. ynusername becuase look at him, he is BABYGIRL oscarpiastri fairs sorry x landonorris HUH

[alowlycaterpillar]

Maybe I'm just autistic but I struggle to find any of these instances funny. A quiet part of me feels some shred of satisfaction that the people who did this are experiencing consequences, but I see this shit and my heart just breaks. Most people are good, and they believed the information that was most readily available to them and they thought was going to best serve them and their loved ones. Most people did not vote for a fascist dictator with intentions of recreating certain events of the early 1940s, most people voted for groceries and gas to be more affordable and for their loved ones to be protected from criminals who sought to destroy their way of life. Most people were just scared and they voted for what they thought would keep them safe.

Like yes, google is free, the internet exists, they should have known better. Yeah. But they didn't. And at the end of the day I think we need to take the small win that most of the people voting for these corrupt oligarchs aren't evil or malicious or hateful, they're just very ill informed. It's okay to be a little stupid about some things, that doesn't make you evil.

Like at the end of the day we are all in the same boat right now in so far as we are all very frightened and very angry, and rightfully so! I just really hope that as right wing people enter this finding out stage of the FAFO laws, we can show compassion and love for our fellow man when they begin to realize they were wrong. We can be mad right now, but we've gotta be forgiving when the average everyday people who really did mean well and had no idea it would be this bad start fleeing to the left for help and safety.

Many such cases.

[cherrysweets-world]

Eyes of the Gods V

series masterlist - part IV

Pairing: Caracalla x fem!Reader x Geta

Summary: The Emperors are not subtle with their interest in you and others have begun to notice

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, eventual dub-con, power imbalances, mentions of previous domestic abuse, controlling behaviour, forced proximity, obsessive behaviour, unhealthy realtionships, unedited

Word Count: 3.5k

Sleep would not come. You tossed and turned for several hours before giving in and re-lighting the candle. Holding your fingers in the warmth of the flame, you began to contemplate your life.

The candlelight flickered and made you feel like the walls were closing in. In some aspects they already had. The walls had closed in without you even knowing it, so distracted by your own wariness. Now you were here, alone, and in reach of the emperors who had put you here.

How had you been so blind? Your own lack of self worth had made you stupid, disbelieving that the Emperors could have such interest in you. You had floated through those first two days, thinking that at any moment they would drop you, bored, like a forgotten toy. To your knowledge that was what usually happened! You had even see it; limping concubines and abandoned slaves. Instead, whatever was between the three of you had grown and mutated into something you had no hope in understanding.

The Emperors had power, yes, there was no denying it. Yet part of you felt as though you were giving them more. Specifically over you. They had not said you could not leave your rooms. So why stay when sleep insisted on evading you?

Your father had had that kind of hold on you and your mother. The situations were not perfectly similar but you were loathe to think you had allowed another man to control you like that. The thoughts made you feel irrational, made you feel like doing something dangerous.

The flame licked at your finger tips and you hissed, pulling them back to your chest. You knew this palace well. Better than the Emperors, even. You knew all the secret spots, all the ways to sneak around without being spotted. Perhaps it was time to put that knowledge to good use. A tiny rebellion of sorts.

Your mind was made up. If you thought on it too long you would lose all courage. Slipping into your sandals, you tried not to think too hard about what you were doing.

"I am going for a walk in the gardens," you said to yourself, "as I am entitled to do. I have not been told I cannot do otherwise."

The look Geta had given you flashed across your eyes and you squeezed them shut, dismissing him.

Reaching under your mattress, you gave your carved wolf a squeeze and then let go. You mumbled a quick prayed to Fortuna and then slowly opened your door, scanning the corridors before poking out your head.

There was no-one you could see. That did not mean that no-one was actually there; you were too close to the Emperor's chambers for their to be no Praetorians.

Part of you knew you were taking a risk. If you were so confident that you were allowed to leave your room then why did you feel the need to evade the Praetorians?

You scrubbed your sweaty palms down your sleepwear. The plain white wrap would make you a glaring target but your other options were no better. It did not matter; you needed fresh air. Needed to take it without the weight of eyes upon you. The illusion of freedom was better than nothing.

You slipped from your room like a breath in the wind. As expected, the first hallway you came to was lined with Praetorians. You wasted no time in slipping by them, dipping into a stairwell and tip-toeing down.

All you could hear was the pounding of your own heart. The sound made you dizzy and you allowed yourself to stop for a moment, steadying yourself. Trembling, you stumbled down the rest of the stairs under you reached a landing. There were yet more guards but they were looking for people sneaking in, rather than out. Waiting until their backs were turned, you made a mad dash for freedom.

The rest of the way was mercifully quiet. Slowing down, you appreciated the silence. Yours were the one footsteps you could hear. It was funny; that night, when you had first met Caracalla, you had been terrified of these empty halls. Now they curved around you, protective, and you brushed a hand against them in familiarity.

Cool air blasted you when you finally stepped foot outside. You laughed and it was immediately lost to the wind. You were not as weak as you thought. You would do whatever you could to hold onto this feeling of dependence.

The air was biting and made your eyes water. Staying out here for long was not an option. Goosebumps emerged along your arms and thighs as the wind pushed itself under your clothes.

When the gusts softened, you wandered further out. You allowed yourself slow appraisals of all the flowers, most of which you did not recognise. You had had no interest in gardening before but they suddenly felt like the most beautiful thing in the world.

Your past and present slipped from you like water. In this moment, it was only you. You could pretend that you had all the choices in the world.

And you did have choices. It was the consequences that scared you. You wished you could peer into the future and see all the possible answers, all the solutions, and make your mind based on those. But you were no seer; the future was barred from your questioning eyes. You would simply have to wait and go the long way around to see what the future held.

An abrupt sound startled you and you whipped around, eyes searching. At first you thought the garden was empty and you relaxed, releasing your death-grip on your elbows.

A flash of red made your head swim and you stood still, mouth parting. No, you almost moaned, no, no, no.

Gravel crunched underfoot as Geta appeared, rounding a flower bed and jerking to a stop. His cheeks were red despite being dressed warmer than you. His mouth parted at the sight of you and you swallowed hard.

Fortuna, you languished, you have forsaken me.

It took you a moment to realise it was not bad luck or coincidence that Geta had stumbled across you. It was difficult to see them through the myriad of plants but several Praetorians had accompanied Geta to the gardens. It seemed that you had not been quite as subtle as you had thought.

Geta started towards you and you squeaked, not daring to back away. It took only several paces before he reached you, grasping your elbows and yanking you to his chest.

"You," he gaped," what were you thinking?"

He gave you a hard shake to force the answer out of you. He was out of breath, almost gasping, and you were stunned into silence.

"Come," he barked, yanking you back the way he came.

You lurched after him, gravel grazing the tips of your toes. Thought escape you and all you could do was lock your eyes on the back of Geta's robe. The pattern was exquisite and you wondered what it would feel like beneath your fingers.

You expected him to let you go once you were back inside but he did not. He continued to pull you along, barking orders at Praetorians, all the way back to your rooms. Your face crumpled at the sight of it but you did not protest as he wrenched you inside and shut the door, sealing both him and you in.

He swiped a hand over his face, shaking. "Do you have any idea how fortunate you are that it was not Caracalla who stumbled upon your ridiculous little escape plan?"

"I -"

"You are well aware that he has some sort of dependency on you," Geta continued, pacing back and forth, "yet you would abandon him at the first chance you had?"

"No, no," you shook your head, "I wanted only to see the gardens!"

Geta stopped, eying you with disbelief. He looked on edge. He almost reminded you of Caracalla in one of his episodes. The more you learned, the more you realised how similar they were.

"The gardens?" he spat. "In the middle of the night? In the cold?"

You brushed your fingers down your arms, embarrassed. "Yes."

Geta shook his head, eyes flickering all over you. His eyes narrowed as he finally seemed to register what you were wearing. "And in those clothes?"

Nothing you said was going to make him calm down. You let your eyes settle on the floor and thinned your lips.

"You could have asked," he finally said, shoulders sagging inward.

"Asked?"

"To see the gardens," he threw his hands into the air. "I would have had someone accompany you. You could not comprehend the trouble you have caused tonight."

"What right do I have to ask for anything?" you said, shocked. "I am a servant, barely more than a slave."

Geta studied you in that way you had become almost used to. His mouth worked, opening and closing several times before settling into a fine line.

"Yes," he agreed, "and you will obey your emperors. You are not to leave your room till morning and we will have someone fetch you when we are ready. Goodnight."

He turned to your bed and yanked up the sheet, throwing it upon you before exiting from the room. He slammed the door shut and you stood in stunned silence, frozen until you heard the deathly sound of a lock sliding shut.

"No," you murmured at first, then quickly got louder. "No, don't!"

Your emotions spilled out of you all at once. Throwing yourself against the door you began to pound upon it. Geta was still outside; you could see his shadow lingering beneath the door.

"Please," you begged, "I am sorry, Emperor, please."

The shadow disappeared as though it had never been there. Choking on your own tears, you rested your forehead against the wood, fists aching. You let out one long, primal scream and then fell back, yanking the covers over your head and angrily wiping your tears away with the back of your hand.

You fell asleep like that, hands clenching the covers and cursing whatever Gods had pushed this fate upon you.

True to his word, Geta did send someone the next morning. A Praetorian soldier opened the door and peered in, cringing at your rumpled form on the bed.

"I am Consus," he said reluctantly. "The Emperors have sent me to retrieve you."

You scowled at the innocent man, dragging your body from the sheets. Your head was pounding and there were multiple spots on your hands where the skin had cracked and bled from your pounding on the door.

You were still in your bed clothes. Dirt stained the bottom and there were smears of blood dotted all over it.

"I need to get ready," you grumbled.

"That. . .will not be necessary," the guard said. "You will be relieved of your usual duties today but you must accompany me to the emperors."

Usual duties, you thought, whatever those were. But you were in no mood to argue so you stomped into your sandals and trailed after Consus. Whatever fight you had left had been squeezed out of you late last night. Now there was only the stinging of your hands and aching of your head.

It took less than two minutes to reach Geta's quarters. You had been foolish to think he would not learn of your brief dash for freedom.

Consus held open the door and announced your presence to the room. No-one had ever done that before. You had not been important enough.

You held your head up as much as you could and entered the room. Caracalla was the first to see you. It was almost comical the way his grin dropped from his face.

He stood up so fast that Dondus squeaked and leapt from his shoulder. He stormed over to you and cupped your hands in his, turning them over again and again as though he could not believe what he was seeing.

"What is this?" he was horrified. As though he had not caused worse injuries and found amusement in them.

"Brother," he snapped, "look. Someone has - someone has -"

Geta finally looked up. Despite being the last to see you, he was also stunned by your appearance. He swallowed harshly and stood straighter.

"She had a rough night, brother," he attempted to soothe Caracalla. "The healer is on the way."

His eyes told you not to say anything. You would not. There was no telling how Caracalla would react if he learned the truth of your escapade last night. Even though you had not truly tried to escape, it only mattered that Geta thought you had.

Caracalla yanked a hand through his hair. "Brother -"

"Enough," Geta raised his voice. "She is hurting. Let her sit."

The words seemed to do something to Caracalla and he steered you to a plush sofa, pulling you down so that you were half on his lap. You had no will to try to move and only sagged, letting Caracalla's hands wander over you.

It was strange how his jerky movements almost soothed you. Perhaps you were only glad for the company, having spent majority of last night confined to your quarters.

"Where does it hurt?" he whispered, eyes fixated on the darkened blood on your clothing.

"My head," you admitted, "and my hands."

Caracalla dusted careful fingers over your temples before turning his attention to your hands. He brought them to his face and kissed your palms. Your eyes welled from the soft touches. He murmured sweet nothings, brows furrowed as he took in your injuries. The smaller they were, the more they hurt. You sucked in a breath when his tongue darted out and swiped over a cut.

Consus appeared in the door once more, this time announcing the healer. The gentleman walked in, holding a leather bag that clinked with ointments and creams.

"Leave them and get out," Caracalla demanded, becoming louder when the man stalled. "Out!"

You would have felt pity for the man on any other day. He shrugged the bag from his shoulder and left it on a table, backing out of the room with his hands held up.

To your surprise it was Geta who retrieved the bag, handing it carefully to his brother. He eyed you in the way he often did and you held his gaze. Something like guilt flickered over his face but it was gone before you could analyse it.

Caracalla busied himself with the contents of the bag. He held up an expensive looking jar of cream and set it aside before picking up something much more recognisable - a small bottle of alcohol.

He popped the cork off. "This will sting."

You gasped and tried to yank your hands away but Caracalla held them steady as he dribbled small amounts of the liquid onto your palms. He used his own clothing to wipe away the traces of blood as if was nothing.

The cream was better. He dabbed it onto your cuts, glancing up at your face to gauge your reaction. You tried not to dwell to much on the fact that an Emperor of Rome was treating your superficial wounds.

"Better?" he asked.

"Better," you nodded. "Thank you, Emperor."

He looked over his shoulder and then back at you before leaning in to whisper, "You can address me as Caracalla."

A lump lodged itself in your throat. How many times had Caracalla been treated for his own injuries that he knew how to treat you for yours?

"What truly happened last night?" he asked you, careful to make sure Geta could not hear.

"Emperor Geta locked me in my room," you answered honestly.

Caracalla thought about it for a moment. "It is better that way," he decided. "It keeps you safe. Don't you want to be safe for us?"

Of course. Caracalla was no different to his brother though you could not pretend to understand their emotions or motivations.

Geta was watching the pair of you. He looked down when you noticed, pretending to be ensconced in his paperwork. Ignoring you just as he did last night when he left you screaming in your room.

You spent the whole day laying about in Geta's chambers. Caracalla doted on you, feeding you bits of food and checking on your wounds.

The more he touched you the harder it was to pull away. His touches got firmer, bolder; the back of your neck, your arms, even your thighs when you shifted. His eyelids grew heavier and heavier until it was impossible to ignore the blatant way he was panting over you.

And it was not as though you were immune to his caresses.

After a few hours of torture, Geta turned his attention back to you.

"There is a gathering tonight," he said, "you will get ready."

"And what am I to do at this gathering?" you boldly asked.

Geta pulled you from the plush cushions by your wrist. He leaned in close. "You are going because I cannot trust you enough to leave you alone. Do not complain; it is unbecoming of a young lady such as yourself."

His mocking tone sent a spike of anger through you. You deigned not to respond. Such blatant disrespect was stupid but you were still unfathomably angry that he had locked you away. You wanted to say that he had no right but, as Emperor, he did. Geta and Caracalla could do anything they wished and you were constantly reminded of it.

Geta pointed you to some clothes hanging up on a privacy screen. He dragged Caracalla away so you could change in peace - an apology of sorts? You yanked on the clothing and tried to let your temper cool. It would do you no good to have an attitude in the presence of others.

Once more you were back in the entertainment hall. Geta had you stationed by a wall, offering cups to anyone who wanted one. It was obvious you had been placed there only because it kept you firmly in his sight.

After an hour you found yourself feeling calmer, taking purpose in your small task. The familiarity made you at ease and you were able to put the Emperors to the back of your mind.

They were surrounded by concubines and tittering senators. A woman was perched on the cushions behind Geta, rubbing a hand on his shoulder and occasionally allowing it to dip beneath his clothing. Geta met your eyes across the room and leaned back, allowing her further contact.

The concubines were having a difficult time with Caracalla. He would relax into their forward touches and then suddenly jerk forward, shoving them away and screaming obscenities. You had never seen him quite so wild at a gathering; it was known that Caracalla enjoyed parties and was most approachable during them.

The concubines did not know what to do with themselves. Breaking point was reached when one dared to slip his hand beneath Caracalla's tunic. Immediately Caracalla was upon the man, hands flying in every which direction and beating him to a near pulp.

How was this the same man who had so softly attended to you earlier? Your anger seeped away and was replaced by familiar fear. What would it take for him to turn on you like that?

Praetorians approached and dragged the concubine away. The party continued as though nothing at happened. These people cared not for the lives of those below them.

Caracalla's eyes darted about the room. Searching for you, no doubt. You recoiled into the wall and shrank in on yourself, desperate to go unnoticed.

Someone did spot you, but it was not Caracalla. The master of gladiators gave you a predators smile and sauntered over, plucking a cup from the tray you were holding.

Something about Macrinus unnerved you. His smile was open enough but you did not trust the man. That had never mattered before when you were a simple servant in the kitchen but now. . .

"It is you," he smiled teasingly, bumping you with his elbow.

You recoiled at the unwanted touch. "I'm sorry?"

"You," he repeated, " who has enamoured the emperors and now takes up so much of their time."

Something cold slithered into your stomach. You did not like Macrinus - did not like that this man knew so much about you.

"I. . .do not know what you are speaking of," the lie caught in your throat but you pushed it out anyway.

Macrinus laughed, loud and cold. "I think you do."

At that moment Caracalla appeared, wrapping his hand around your elbow and exposing the lie you had told.

"I want to leave," he grumbled, "come now."

He uttered a tense greeting to Macrinus and dragged you from the room. You went willingly, thankful for any distance between yourself and the master of gladiators and his sharp smile.

Caracalla was rougher than usual as he tugged you along. This time to his chambers. He kept looking over your shoulder and muttering to himself, yanking you closer and closer until you were almost tripping over each other. You were not overly alarmed; you had faith that you would be able to pacify him.

Your mind was preoccupied with your brief meeting with Macrinus. The emperors made you uneasy but it was nothing to do with the sickening feel Macrinus evoked in you.

Authors Note - This might be my favourite chapter yet idkkkk - please let me know what you think! Please like, comment, reblog if you enjoyed and don’t be afraid to send asks because they are my favourite thing

taglist - @only4thefics @doodle-with-rhy @lover-rep-fanfic @claraisme23 @sashaphantomhive @multifandombtch @t6gse370

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[d-z20]

The Therapist's Touch (NSFW)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader

Summary: You sought out Dr. Harkness for clarity, for someone to help untangle the mess in your mind. But as your sessions progress, the line between guidance and something far more intoxicating begins to blur.

- OR -

Agatha manipulates you and your mind and uses it as a way to start fucking you in the name of 'therapy'

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, dubcon, smut, Dark Agatha, gaslighting, manipulation, other toxic behaviour, fingering (R recv), praise kink, lots of 'good girl', talking through orgasm, mild choking at the end

Words: 2.9k

A/N: Just to repeat: this fic contains dubcon smut, gaslighting, and manipulation so if that is something that triggers you, please do not read. Requested Fic

AO3 | Master List

You met Dr. Harkness after a particularly bad week. You hadn’t been sleeping, your thoughts a tangled mess of self-doubt and frustration. Friends—if you could even call them that anymore—had started pulling away, and work was becoming unbearable. It was one of those situations where you weren’t sure if you were the problem or if everyone else was. You needed clarity. You needed someone to untangle the mess in your head.

And Agatha was perfect for that.

The first few sessions felt normal, even helpful. She was warm but not overly so, sharp-witted with a knowing smile that made you feel like she already had you figured out. You liked that. You wanted to be understood. She had a way of pulling things out of you, teasing out the thoughts you hadn’t even fully realized were lurking under the surface.

"You feel like you're being abandoned," she told you during a session, her voice smooth and steady. "Like the people around you are slipping through your fingers, and you don’t know why."

You nodded, relieved that someone finally understood.

"It must be frustrating," she continued, tilting her head slightly as if weighing her words carefully. "To always be the one reaching out, only to be left in the cold."

Your breath hitched. Was that true? You hadn’t really thought about it that way, but… now that she said it, it felt right.

"Maybe you expect too much from people," she mused, watching you carefully. "Or maybe they don’t appreciate you like they should."

A quiet pressure built behind your ribs, something heavy and unseen. That wasn’t a comforting thought, but there was something… validating about it. Like all the hurt you felt wasn’t just in your head.

"Maybe," you admitted.

She smiled, pleased. "I think people take advantage of your kindness. You let them, don’t you?"

You did, didn’t you?

—

The shift was slow, insidious. Agatha never outright told you what to think—she just guided you there, nudging you toward conclusions you weren’t sure were yours or hers. Your relationships became strained, but Agatha was always there to reassure you.

"You’re growing," she told you after a particularly emotional session. "You’re starting to see things for what they really are."

Warmth unfurled in your chest, wrapping around your ribs like a protective embrace. The weight of her gaze felt like an anchor, steadying you in a way nothing else had.

Agatha was dangerous in the way that only truly intelligent people could be. She never raised her voice, never forced an idea on you—she simply led you there, guiding you through your own thoughts like she was pulling a thread loose from a tangled knot.

And God, she was beautiful.

You noticed it in pieces at first. The sharp line of her cheekbones, the way her eyes stayed locked onto yours just a little too long, the elegant way she moved. She always dressed immaculately, sleek dark blouses that clung to her just right, lips painted in deep shades of red or plum. And then there was her voice. The kind of voice that settled into your bones and curled up there, wrapping itself around your ribs like it belonged to you.

It was embarrassing, really. You were falling for your therapist. But she made you feel seen in a way no one else had. And she never discouraged it.

Not directly.

"You hesitate when you talk about what you want," she noted, her voice gentle. "Why do you do that?"

You blinked, caught off guard. "I—what?"

"You second-guess yourself." She studied you carefully, fingers tapping lightly against the arm of her chair. "I’ve noticed it. You’ll start to say something, then stop. Like you’re afraid of being too much."

Your pulse fluttered. "I guess I just… don’t want to be a burden."

Her lips curled into something almost like amusement. "A burden?" she echoed, as if the idea itself was absurd. "Who told you that?"

You hesitated. Everyone, you wanted to say. Every time someone stopped texting back, every time you felt like you were grasping too hard to keep people close.

Agatha hummed, tilting her head just slightly. “Who have you been talking to about this?”

You blinked. “What?”

Her gaze was steady, expectant. “You said you feel like a burden. Who put that thought in your head?”

You hesitated. “I mean… I don’t know. I guess I mentioned it to a friend the other day, and they—”

Agatha tsked softly, shaking her head. “And what did they say?”

“They told me I was overthinking.”

A slow, knowing smile curled her lips. “Ah. Overthinking.” She leaned back, fingers tapping lightly against the arm of her chair. “That’s an easy way to dismiss you, isn’t it?”

You frowned. “I don’t think they meant it like that—”

“But it made you feel unheard,” she pressed gently. “Didn’t it?”

Your breath came a little faster. “I… maybe?”

Agatha nodded, like she’d expected that answer. “It’s interesting,” she mused, voice low and thoughtful. “How often people minimise your feelings. How quickly they brush you off.” Her gaze flickered back to yours, something soft and reassuring in it. “I would never do that to you.”

A tightness bloomed behind your ribs, bittersweet and impossible to ignore. “I know,” you murmured.

Her lips curled in satisfaction. “Of course you do.”

She leaned forward slightly, voice softening. "They made you feel that way," she spoke, like it was some kind of revelation. "Not because you are a burden, but because they don’t know how to appreciate you properly."

Something about the way she said it made your stomach twist.

"They don’t see you the way I do."

The words hung between you, electric.

You exhaled slowly, suddenly hyperaware of how close she was, how intimate these sessions had started to feelThe space between you felt thinner than before, her voice dipping into something softer, closer—like a secret meant only for you.

And then, like she knew exactly what you were thinking, she smiled.

"Tell me," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "When’s the last time someone truly listened to you?"

Your pulse hammered.

It should have set off alarms. But it didn’t. Because she was listening. She was there for you. More than anyone else has been.

Had anyone ever really listened?

—

The next session, Agatha watched you with something unreadable in her expression. Like she was studying a puzzle, waiting for the pieces to click into place.

“You seem tense,” she noted, her voice low, honey-smooth.

You huffed out a quiet laugh, but it came out strained. “Yeah, well. Life’s a little stressful.”

She tilted her head, gaze sharp, like she was peeling you apart layer by layer. “You hold yourself so tightly,” she stated, studying you like a specimen under glass. “You don’t even realise it, do you?”

Your brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Your shoulders.” A flick of her fingers. “Your jaw. Your hands.”

You followed her gaze, your fingers curling instinctively before you forced them to relax.

“I think,” she continued, voice slow, deliberate, “you’ve spent so long bracing for impact that you don’t know how to let go.”

A strange heat curled in your stomach, something unspoken threading through the air between you.

She leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on her knees. “Would you let me help you?”

Your stomach flipped. “Help me how?”

Agatha smiled—calm, measured, soothing. “A simple exercise. One that might help you process the tension you’re carrying.”

You hesitated, but there was no reason to refuse. It was therapy. She was your therapist.

“Okay,” you said finally.

Her smile deepened, approval warm in her gaze. “Close your eyes,” she instructed.

You obeyed, exhaling softly.

“Now,” she assured, “I want you to focus on the weight of your body. The way your spine curves. The way your breath moves through you.”

Her voice was hypnotic, her words weaving their way into your bones.

And then—

Fingertips against your jaw.

You startled, eyes flying open, but Agatha hushed you gently.

“Shh,” she soothed, thumb brushing along your cheek. “It’s alright. You trust me, don’t you?”

Your breath came a little faster. The warmth of her touch was dizzying. “I—yes,” you whispered.

Her lips curled in satisfaction. “Good.”

Her fingers trailed lightly, tracing the curve of your throat. You swallowed, pulse hammering against her touch.

“Your body reacts before you do,” she noted, head tilting slightly. “You don’t even realise how much you hold back.”

Heat rushed to your face. You couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment or something else entirely.

Agatha’s grip firmed just slightly—not enough to hurt. Just enough to remind you she was there. “I want you to let go,” she murmured. “Trust me to guide you.”

Your mind spun, tangled between this is fine, she’s my therapist and why does this feel so good?

But you trusted her. So you nodded.

Her smile was slow, knowing. “Good girl.”

Your stomach flipped again. A rush of warmth curled through you, unsettling in its intensity.

She let her touch linger a moment longer before finally pulling back, leaving you bereft. “See?” she said, as if the moment hadn’t just unraveled something inside you. “You hold onto so much. But I can help you carry it.”

You swallowed hard, clinging to her words like a lifeline. “…Thank you,” you murmured.

“We’ll work through it together,” she promised.

You believed her.

You wanted to believe her.

Even as something in the back of your mind whispered that maybe—just maybe—you shouldn’t.

—

The session after that felt different from the moment you stepped into the room. The air in Agatha’s office was heavier, charged with something unspoken. It coiled around you, wrapping tight around your ribs as her eyes tracked your movements, assessing, waiting.

“Welcome back,” she said smoothly, gesturing for you to come further in. You obeyed, feeling strangely exposed under her gaze. She hummed, studying you. “You look tense again.”

You exhaled sharply. “I mean… I guess?”

Her smile deepened. “You’ve been thinking too much. Haven’t you?”

Your breath caught. Because—yes.

She chuckled softly. “I told you, darling. You carry everything too tightly.”

You swallowed.

“I want to try something different today,” she announced. “Something a little more… physical.”

Your brain short-circuited at the word.

She leaned forward, voice dipping into something lower, more intimate. “Have you ever done guided breathwork before?”

You shook your head.

She nodded, as if she expected that. “It’s about control,” she said. “Releasing what no longer serves you.”

Your breath hitched.

“May I touch you?” she asked, voice velvety smooth.

“Y—yeah,” you stammered, your pulse pounded in your ears.

She stood, stepping behind you. The air shifted as she moved closer, the heat of her body ghosting along your back before her hands settled on your shoulders—firm, warm, grounding.

“You’re so wound up,” she murmured, her thumbs pressing in, kneading slowly. A soft sigh slipped from your lips before you could stop it.

“Breathe with me,” she instructed, her lips near your ear now. “In…”

You inhaled shakily.

“Good,” she praised. “Now out.”

Her hands moved lower, gliding down your arms, her touch light but deliberate. “Again,” she hummed.

You obeyed, and as you exhaled, her hands skimmed lower, fingertips ghosting over the curve of your ribs, her thumbs teasing at the sides of your breasts. You stiffened, heat pooling between your thighs, but she only hummed in approval.

“You’re still holding back,” she whispered, breath warm against your skin. “I need you to let go.”

Her hands drifted lower, over your waist, her grip firm as she guided you back against her body. A quiet, shuddering exhale left you, your head swimming, warmth pooling low in your stomach.

“Good,” she praised, voice like silk. “You’re doing so well for me.”

A shiver ran down your spine as she pressed closer, the solid heat of her flush against your back.

“This tension you carry,” she sighed, her breath hot against your skin, “it needs to be released.”

Her hands slipped lower, over your hips, nails scraping lightly against fabric. A slow, deliberate drag that sent fire licking through your veins.

“Let me help,”

And then her hands moved lower. Your whole body went still.

Agatha hummed in approval. “You feel that, don’t you?”

A sound—something between a gasp and a whimper—escaped your lips, as your body burned with arousal.

“Good,” she praised again, like she could feel you unravelling beneath her touch. “You’re doing perfectly.”

Her touch dipped between your thighs causing a sharp gasp to tear from your throat as your body jolted, nerves alight.

“Shh, this is part of the process,” she soothed, her lips grazing your ear, the warmth of her breath sending shivers down your spine. “Trust me.”

You did. You shouldn’t, but you did.

Her hands were steady, patient, coaxing you back against her body. Heat seeped into your skin where she pressed, her perfume—something dark, heady, intoxicating—curling around you like smoke.

“This is what you need,” she declared, her fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles over your clothed clit. “A full release.”

Your body arched, a broken moan slipping past your lips before you could swallow it down.

“There it is.” Agatha’s voice was rich with satisfaction, her free hand dragging lazy patterns over your torso, her nails grazing just enough to make you shiver. “That’s my good girl.”

Shame curled low in your stomach, but it was drowned out by the pleasure winding tighter, by the way she spoke like she knew you better than you knew yourself. Maybe she did. No one else had reached this part of you—no one else had understood what you truly needed.

Only Agatha.

“You’ve been holding so much inside,” she mused, her fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your underwear, teasing the sensitive skin beneath. “I think it’s time to let me take care of you.”

You whimpered, your breath coming in uneven bursts, but you didn’t pull away. You didn’t want to.

A pleased hum vibrated in her throat as she pressed her fingers against your slick heat.

“Oh, darling,” she cooed, her lips brushing against your temple, “you do need me.”

Your head lolled back against her shoulder, your lips parting in a breathless moan as she circled your clit with practiced ease, teasing and coaxing you into submission.

“Such a sweet thing,” she remarked, her other hand coming up to tilt your chin, guiding your gaze to hers. “Look at me.”

Your eyes fluttered open, dazed and glassy, and the look she gave you made your stomach tighten.

“There’s my good girl.”

The praise sent a pulse of heat through you, something deep and desperate unraveling at the sound of it. You wanted to please her. To prove that you trusted her.

Her mouth slanted over yours, swallowing your gasped moans as her fingers slid inside you, slow and purposeful. A sharp cry left you as she stretched you open, her thumb still circling, teasing, never letting you sink too deep into mindlessness. She wanted you present. Aware.

Your body jerked, overwhelmed by the sensation, but her hands were steady, guiding you through it. “Breathe,” she instructed, her lips brushing against your cheek. “In through your nose… there you go, good girl… and out.”

You tried. You really did. But every exhale was a stuttering moan, your body trembling against hers.

“That’s it,” she soothed, her fingers curling just enough to make you keen. “Let yourself feel it. Let yourself fall.”

Your fingers grasped at her sleeve, desperate for something to hold onto as she worked you open, dragging you closer and closer to the edge.

“You’ve spent so long running from this,” she murmured, voice low, hypnotic, each word coiling around your ribs and pulling tight. “From what you need. From what I can give you.”

You shook your head weakly, barely processing her words through the pleasure threatening to swallow you whole.

“No?” She tutted, her fingers never ceasing. “Then tell me, darling… why are you shaking?”

You couldn’t answer. She had you undone, every nerve alight, every thought consumed by her.

“Let go,” she commanded, her voice velvet-soft but unyielding. “Let me take care of you.”

As the pleasure coiled tighter, your body trembled against her, every muscle wound impossibly tense. Agatha’s touch never wavered—precise, knowing, relentless.

"That's it," she murmured, her lips grazing the shell of your ear. "You’re so close, aren’t you?"

A breathless whimper escaped you, your hips bucking into her hand, chasing that final push. She chuckled softly, her fingers maintaining their rhythm, teasing you to the brink.

"Good girl," she praised, her voice dipping into something darker, richer. "Give it to me. I want to feel you cum on my fingers."

Your breath hitched, your body straining under the weight of pleasure, but she didn’t let you fall just yet. Her free hand dragged up your torso, nails grazing along your ribs before curling around your throat, a light, possessive pressure that made you gasp.

"You've been holding onto this for so long," she crooned. "But not anymore. Let. Go."

Her grip on your throat tightened ever so slightly as her fingers curled against your g-spot, pushing you past the point of no return. A sharp cry tore from your lips, your entire body arching as the pleasure finally snapped, pleasure ripping through you in waves.

"That’s it, my sweet girl," Agatha cooed, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "Ride it out—just like that. So perfect for me."

Your walls clenched around her fingers, the aftershocks making you shudder, but she didn’t stop. Not yet. She drew out every last pulse of pleasure, her touch easing from devastating to indulgent, dragging you through the bliss until you were nothing but a boneless, gasping mess in her arms.

"Such a good girl," she muttered, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple as her fingers finally stilled, her palm resting possessively against your slick heat. "I knew you could do it."

She let you catch your breath, but her fingers traced slow, lazy circles over your sensitive skin, teasing, reminding you who had brought you to this point.

Your breath still came in uneven shudders as she finally pulled her hand away. You barely had a chance to process the loss before she brought her fingers to her lips, her darkened eyes never leaving yours as she sucked them clean.

Heat flared in your cheeks.

Agatha only smiled.“We’ll continue this next session,” she promised, brushing a stray bead of sweat from your forehead. “I think we’re making real progress.”

-----

In this AU Agatha totally only became a therapist so she could mess around with people's minds and get paid for it.

N.B Agatha's behaviour is extremely toxic and manipulative due to the power she holds over reader. This work is purely fiction and such actions have no place in the real world.

-----

taglist: @aceday @danveration @alwaysharmony @idkwhatever580 @jujuu23 @lostbutlovely33 @sweetmidnights @6ange19

[charmedimsure]

THE NEXT EPISODE || thanos

pairing: Thanos/Choi Su-bong x f!reader

summary: You and Su-bong reunite after his stay at rehab. No debt/no games AU.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: rehab, drinking, drugs, addiction, depression

A/N: i've been working on this for like two weeks and i still feel like i could work on it more. i love this mini series i made and i'm excited to see how other people like it :) if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3

Part 1: Wake Up Call

Today is the big day. The day Su-bong has been working towards for the past six months.

Today he gets out of rehab.

He originally tried to quit on his own, but after multiple relapses, he decided he needed help. Due to his multiple addictions and how long he's been addicted for, the doctors at the facility suggested a longer stay for him, to which he agreed.

Before he left, he gave you the keys to his apartment, putting you in charge of managing the place while he's away. You also promised to get rid of anything in his apartment that could potentially be abused.

Rehab had actually not been bad. It certainly wasn't easy, but Su-bong felt better about it knowing there were so many other people there going through the same thing as him. He had ended up making some really good friends there, friends that he was excited to see again once they all got out. A few of them had made plans to meet up at a coffee house soon, about a week after Su-bong is released.

The thing Su-bong has been looking forward to the most while in rehab is seeing you again. The only visitors that were allowed were family members, so he had to settle for just talking to you on the phone.

"Can I see you soon?" Su-bong asks into the phone.

"I have to work today, but I'm off tomorrow if you want to come by?" you say. "Oh, and I left something for you on your counter."

Su-bong smiles into the phone. "You didn't have to do that."

"Don't get too excited, it's not much," you laugh. "But I just wanted to give you something to congratulate you."

"I'll be happy with anything you give me," he says.

"Cheesy," you groan, making him laugh. A small gasp comes from Su-bong's phone. "Shoot, my boss just texted me I have to go in early. I'm sorry, I gotta go. Text me when you get home, okay?"

"All good," Su-bong says. "Yeah, I'll text you. Let me know when you get to the club and back home safe."

"I will," he can hear the smile in your voice. "I'll see you tomorrow."

<>

Su-bong walks into his apartment. A chill washes over him. It's been so long since he was here, and he's changed so much. He puts his things down, walking into his kitchen.

A feeling of dread fills him. Was six months enough? Is he really able to do this?

A glint catches his eye, and he sees a small chain sitting on his counter. Attached to it is a dog tag. He picks it up, examining it. When he notices a clasp on the side of the dog tag, he opens it, revealing a small note in your handwriting.

'I'm proud of you <3'

A comfortable warmth fills his body as he smiles at your note. He closes the tag, immediately putting the chain around his neck.

He looks around his place. It holds way too many memories of his time before rehab. Waking up with a headache so bad he's worried his head might implode, turning over to see some random girl in his bed who's name he can't remember. That's not how he wants to live anymore.

He takes a water bottle from the fridge, which you must have put in there for him, and sits on his couch, looking up listings for available apartments. Preferably one close to you.

<>

Su-bong feels his heart race as he stands in front of your apartment door. He's been waiting for this moment for six months. With a deep breath, he knocks on the door.

Footsteps are heard from the other side of the door. Something makes a loud bang and he hears you curse, making his lips twitch upwards.

The door opens and there you are. He swears you've only gotten more beautiful since he last saw you.

"Woah, I almost didn't recognize you," you smile.

He smiles, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. He hadn't dyed his hair since before rehab, leaving it at its natural dark brown. "Yeah, I've been getting that a lot."

"I like it," you say. "You look much more like Su-bong."

He feels his face heat up, muttering a shy 'thank you'.

You step to the side, opening the door wider. "Come in! I'll go grab a snack."

Su-bong walks into your apartment, a smile playing on his face at the familiar set up. You move to the kitchen and he sits on your couch. He chuckles at the new blanket laying next to him, clearly having been used recently.

He looks up as you walk back into the room, placing a bowl of pretzels and a bottle of blue Gatorade on the coffee table in front of him. You remembered.

He gestures toward the blanket. "That new?"

You put a pretzel in your mouth and smile at him, nodding enthusiastically. "My mom got it for me. You have to feel it, it's so soft." He chuckles as you cover your mouth with your hand, too excited to tell him about the blanket to wait until you've swallowed your food.

He reaches out to the blanket, eyes widening when his fingers graze the fabric. "Holy shit."

"Right?!" you laugh, picking up the blanket and sitting down. You toss it over both of your legs. You take a moment to study his face. "You look really good, Su-bong."

He feels himself blush, turning away in embarrassment. "Yeah, my pupils are finally the correct size."

You laugh at the comment. "Yes, that. But you also just look much healthier. Much happier."

He nods. "I feel happier. I thought I was happy all those nights at the club, drinking away my life. But now I know that wasn't real happiness." He looks at you, looking deep into your eyes. "This is real happiness."

Now it's your turn to look away, feeling heat rush to your face. "I'm glad. You deserve happiness."

He smiles.

"Even though you once tried to pay me to take off my shirt."

Su-bong cringes, bringing his hand to his face as you laugh. "Can you please stop bringing that up?"

You shake your head. "No way. This is the punishment you get for that. Me making fun of you. I think it's a fair exchange."

He laughs. "Fair enough."

You continue talking for the next hour or so, telling each other about everything and nothing. Su-bong's heart soars every time he is able to make you laugh. He's made music his entire life, but no song could ever compare to the sweet tune of your laughter.

"On Sunday I'm gonna meet up with a few friends from rehab at that new coffee place around the corner," he says. "Do you want to come?"

You shake your head. "Thank you for the invitation but I don't want to intrude."

"You wouldn't be intruding," he assures. "I, uh, talked about you a lot and they really want to meet you."

Your face heats up at his admission, nodding. "In that case, I'd love to go."

He smiles. "Good."

You put on a movie to watch, saying you saw one while he was away and couldn't wait to show it to him. Throughout the movie, Su-bong sneaks glances at you. He's wanted you ever since he first laid his eyes on you. You were the hot bartender with a fiery personality.

Now, though, as he watches you chew your lip in concentration, he sees just how amazing you truly are. You're the beautiful girl who changed his life for the better. The amazing girl who gave him a reason to become a better person. The kind girl who talked on the phone with him every day while he was in rehab.

You're his best friend. And he's deeply in love with you.

<>

Su-bong opens the door to the coffee house, letting you walk inside first before entering as well.

"Hey, Su-bong!" a voice yells, getting his attention. He smiles when he sees his friends, waving at them. He motions for you to follow him as you head over to the table.

"Hey guys," he greets, giving each of them a small hug. It feels nice to see them on the outside. They all accomplished the same thing, and they'll forever be close for doing it together.

He looks to you. "Oh right. This is Jung-su, Shin-il, and Ji-hae."

Each of them wave and smile at you as he says their names. Once he introduces you, they all seem to get a similar look on their faces.

"Oh, so you're the girl he keeps talking about," Shin-il smirks. Su-bong lightly smacks his arm, making the boy laugh.

"Shin-il, be quiet!" Ji-hae rolls her eyes. She turns to you. "He told us about how you helped him get sober. We're glad he had someone so supportive helping him."

You smile. "I just wanted to help any way I could. He's the one who ultimately chose to get help." You smile at him and he feels his heart melt. "And I'm glad he was able to make some great friends in there, from what he's told me."

"Aw, you talked about us?" Jung-su flashes Su-bong with puppy eyes, making the ladder roll his own.

"Plus, now he doesn't call me 'Señorita' anymore, so really I got something out of it too," you say.

The table bursts out in laughter and Su-bong hides his face behind his hands. "Maybe it was a mistake bringing you here, I didn't realize you were all going to gang up on me."

You laugh, rubbing his arm. "I'm just kidding. Come on, let's go get something to drink."

You move to stand but he puts a hand on your shoulder. "I got it. What do you want?"

You tell him your order, thanking him as he walks to the counter.

Ji-hae leans across the table to you. "He really likes you, you know," she smiles. "Talked about you all the time."

You smile. "He's a really great guy. I wish I could've talked to him sooner, maybe he would've gotten help sooner. He's my best friend now."

"You should go out with him," she says. "Based on how he talked about you, he'd treat you right."

You turn to look at Su-bong, smiling as he rocks back and forth on his feet while waiting in line.

"I do like him," you say, turning back to Ji-hae. "I just want to give him some time first. He just got out of rehab, I feel like he should have some time to figure out what he really wants and adjust to sobriety, if that makes sense."

"Totally," Jung-su says, nodding his head. "I've been out two months now and I still feel like this is all new."

"Just please be there for him," Shin-il asks.

You nod. "I'm not going anywhere."

On the other side of the coffee house, while waiting for your drinks, Su-bong feels a hand grasp his shoulder.

"Holy shit man," a familiar voice says behind him. "You dropped off the face of the earth!"

Su-bong turns to see the smiling face of Nam-gyu.

"Where have you been, dude?"

Su-bong opens his mouth to answer but is cut off when Nam-gyu continues.

"You know what, it doesn't matter." He pulls a small bag out of his jacket pocket. "I just got some new shit. It's fucking insane, man. You gotta try it."

He stares at the pills. This is the first time that drugs have been so accessible to him since before rehab. A cold sweat breaks out and his breath gets quicker. It would be so easy. All he'd have to do is pop one little pill.

He turns back to look at the table. You're sitting there, laughing with Jung-su. The sound flows to his ears and a soft smile graces his face. The sweat stops and his breathing goes back to normal.

He doesn't need pills anymore. He has you. And you make him so much happier than pills ever have or ever will.

He turns back to Nam-gyu, straightening his posture. "No, I don't do that stuff anymore."

Nam-gyu gives him a look. "Are you kidding, dude? You can't get this shit anywhere, and you're turning it down? What the fuck happened to you, Thanos?"

"It's Su-bong, actually," he says.

"No more Thanos!? What's going on?"

Su-bong opens his mouth to respond, but is beaten by another voice.

"Nam-gyu, leave him alone, please," you say, putting a hand on Su-bong's shoulder as you step beside him.

Nam-gyu looks between the two of you before a knowing smile spreads on his face.

"Oh, I see," he says. "So this is the guy you've been calling all the time." The barista calls out his name and he takes his cup. "Knew it was only a matter of time before you two got together, I should've bet on it." He turns, walking toward the door. "I'll see you at work!"

You wave to him as he leaves, turning to Su-bong. "Are you okay? He didn't give you anything, did he?"

He shakes his head. "He offered, but I said no. I was expecting him to be a lot less understanding."

"I've been talking to him the past few months at work, turns out he's not bad when he's not constantly sticking his nose up someone else's ass," you say, making Su-bong laugh. His name is called and you take the cups from the barista, thanking them before handing Su-bong's drink to him, taking his hand and leading him back to the table.

"Welcome back, Señorita," Shin-il smirks.

The table bursts out in laughter again and Su-bong stands from the table, waving goodbye to everyone. You grab his wrist before he can get too far, laughing along with him as he sits back down next to you.

<>

It's been about five months since Su-bong got out of rehab. He's been doing very good, resisting every time he feels even the slightest temptation.

He's gotten back into music and is working on his next album, which is going to be the first he's releasing that's not under the name "Thanos", instead rebranding as Choi Su-bong. You're of course his biggest supporter and he plays you all of his songs to get your opinion. You've even helped on a few songs, and he plans on crediting you as a co-writer.

Remembering what you told him nearly a year ago, he surprised you one day with your own guitar, taking the time to teach you how to play. You're still learning, but he loves everything you play, nearly as much as he loves your laugh whenever you play the wrong note.

You've been dancing around each other for the past few months, both aware of your feelings, but liking what you have going on between you for now. As time passes, though, Su-bong can feel himself getting closer to the edge, ready to take the leap.

One day you're both sitting in Su-bong's new apartment when he turns to you.

"Hey," Su-bong says. You look up from your phone at him. "I uh, I want to play something for you, if that's okay."

You smile, locking your phone and putting it face-down on the couch. "Yeah, I'd love that."

He stands up and reaches his hand out towards you. You take it, standing as he leads you to his piano. He sits on the bench, making room for you to sit beside him.

"I actually wrote this for you," he says, shyly looking at you. You smile at him, giving him a nod of encouragement. With a deep breath, he begins playing the notes before singing.

"I text a postcard sent to you Did it go through? Sending all my love to you You are the moonlight of my life every night Giving all my love to you."

You feel your eyes start to water as you listen to the words. His words reflect exactly how you feel, put in a way that makes it more beautiful than anything you could say to him.

You've heard him sing more ties than you can count. But sitting here next to him, listening as he pours his heart out to you, you don't think any song will ever compare.

"With every breath that I am worth Here on Earth I'm sending all my love to you So if you dare to second guess You can rest Assured that all my love's for you."

Su-bong puts his entire heart into the song. He had started writing it on the piano they had at the rehabilitation center. He had written a few songs while he was there, but this one was specifically inspired by you. The lyrics were from notes he would write down while talking to you, things that came to his head as your sweet voice drifted through the speaker of his phone.

"My beating heart belongs to you I walked for miles till I found you I'm here to honor you If I lose everything in the fire I'm sending all my love to you."

He stops playing, bringing his arms to his sides. He slowly looks up at you. "You've done so much for me. I don't think I can ever pay you back, but I'll spend the rest of my life trying if you'll let me."

A tear escapes your eye. You sniffle, nodding your head.

Su-bong reaches out to cup your cheek, wiping away the tear with his thumb. He looks down to your lips before looking back up to your eyes. "Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

He leans forward, closing his eyes as his lips make contact with yours. Su-bong has kissed girls before, more than he'd like to admit, but he feels like a teenager kissing their crush for the first time.

This is a moment nearly a year in the making. All of his longing for you, his adoration of you is put into the kiss.

He pulls back, regaining his breath as he looks over your face. Your kiss-swollen lips are just begging to be kissed again, but there's something that needs to be done first.

"I love you," he says. "I've loved you for a long time. You're the most amazing person I've ever met and there's nothing I want more than to be with you."

You smile at him, and he feels starstruck by how beautiful you are. "I love you too, Su-bong," you say. "I'm forever grateful that you showed me the real you that day in my apartment. Because I love the real you. So much."

Su-bong's face lights up in a smile, leaning forward to capture your lips again in an awkward kiss that makes you both laugh.

All his hard work is paying off. He is finally worthy of happiness. He is finally worthy of you. And he's going to spend every day making sure he stays worthy.

Song: Last Night on Earth by Green Day

Squid Game Tags: @thebiggestigurosimp @vvnbxz @lov3yy @miltzzy @l5byrinth @come-as-you-are-111 @starkeyszn @learninglinesintherainn @galactict3a @sawlover353 @jspidey5 @skywalker0809 @zannispppp @lianobody

Pt 2 tags: @dweeebazoid @apookalypse @jxsibat @fallout-girl219 @senorittaaaa

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist

[thewoollyviking]

I’m of two minds about this…

Yes, I agree it would be jarring for Steven to line the Diamonds up against a firing squad and have them executed.

Yes, it’s better to let them live if they can undo a lot of the damage they had done…

However, there is one notable harm that they have done that the show makes clear they cannot undo. And that is the abusive and neglectful treatment of Rose.

And this isn’t just me showing my Rose bias or being pedantic. Their mistreatment of Rose directly led her to most of the conflicts in this show.

They infantilized her and treated her like less of a person partly for not having a colony where they had several. So Rose wanted a colony.

They told Rose that Earth was her planet. That it belonged to her. But then turned around and told her she had no authority to stop the colonization peacefully. So Rose went to war.

Rose faked her shattering, believing the Diamonds cared so little about her that her death wouldn’t matter and that it would finally drive Homeworld away to end the war…

And then they corrupted all but three gems across Earth in an act of pure spite and grief.

After damn near 6000 years, Rose believed that Homeworld and the Diamonds all but completely forgot about her and Earth and was certain Steven and the rest of her family would never have to deal with them…

And, well, we know how she was wrong there…

They made Rose believe she was worthless and awful. In White’s own words “the part of me that I always have to hide”. The reason why Rose grew up such a guarded, broken mess of a gem who never felt like she could be open and honest with anyone.

Rose’s demons were placed in her head by the Diamonds.

Rose is gone, and more importantly gone FOREVER because of them.

And yet… after season 5 that revelation doesn’t seem to bother them? If anything the death of Rose is brushed aside so they can beg Steven to come live with them. And Steven in turn feels he HAS to be cordial with them.

The Diamonds seemingly learned nothing and have not suffered after realizing the family member they mourned wasn’t murdered, but instead ran away from them because of how awful they were to her.

But meanwhile for Rose, it’s as if everything she had ever done to try and crawl her way out of the pit of fucking misery she was born into didn’t matter.

At best, all the people she ever loved and cared about become deeply uncomfortable whenever her name is brought up in casual conversation. And at worst, as we see with Steven, they can’t even stand to look at her anymore.

Meanwhile, Steven and the others are making sure to be extra patient with the Diamonds as they take on the role quirky space grandmas

This is what I mean when I say that post season 5, consequences only exist if your name is Rose Quartz.

Why does Rose have to settle for the ending where everything good she did ultimately doesn’t matter, her own son regularly tap dances and spits on her grave. And her own family is all too eager to shove her in a closet and forget she ever existed…

But the people who abused her, who did such an awful job raising her that she was willing to fight a war partly so she could finally get away from them… we apparently need to be patient with and give them the benefit of the doubt.

Fuck. That.

The Diamonds may not deserve to die, but they sure as fuck deserve to suffer for the wrongs they inflicted on Rose alone.

They do not deserve the comforting lie that they could ever be good people if the show is already so quickly to condemn Rose.

Sometimes I think about how and why some people had such a *bad* reaction to the end of Steven Universe, specifically in regards to the Diamonds living.

Even though they no longer are causing harm to others and are able to actually undo some of their previous harm by living, some folks reacted as though this ending was somehow morally suspect. Morally bankrupt, even.

And I think it might be because so many of us were raised on a very specific kind of kids media trope:

They all fall to their deaths.

Disney loves chucking their bad guys off cliffs. And it makes sense- in a moral framework where villains *must* be punished (regardless of whether their death will actually prevent further harm or not), but killing of any kind is morally bad for the hero, the narrative must find a way to kill the villain without the protagonists doing a murder.

It's a moral assumption that a person can *deserve* to die, that it is cosmically just for them to die, that them dying is evidence that the story itself is morally good and correct. Scar *deserves* to die, but it would be bad for Simba to kill him. So....cliff. (edit: yes, cliff then hyenas. But cliff first. Lol.)

Steven Universe, whatever else it's faults, took a step back and said "but if killing people is bad, then people dying is bad", and instead of dropping White Diamond off a cliff, asked "what would actual *restorative*, not punitive, justice look like? What would actual reparations mean here? If the goal is to heal, not just to punish, how do we handle those who have done harm?" And then did that.

Which I think is interesting, and that there was pushback against it is interesting.

It also reminds me of the folks who get very weird about Aang not killing Ozai at the end of Avatar. And like, Ozai still gets chucked in prison, so it doesn't even push back on our cultural ideas of punitive justice *that much.* and still, I've seen people get real mad that the child monk who is the last survivor of a genocide that wiped out his entire pacifist culture didn't do a murder.

[genderqueerdykes]

I still feel really iffy about transandrophobia (a bit less so after your explanation) but the main thing confusing me is why is it considered the intersection of being a man + being trans when it stems from transphobia and misogyny? It can’t really stem from misandry because misandry is systematically not a thing. I’m starting to understand it a bit but i’m still SUPER confused. I also feel really bad that So Many ppl who believe in transandrophobia are really rude to transfems.

hello there. i hope i can explain things that help make sense of it a bit better. i appreciate you coming back to ask more. please note that i'm saying this to be productive and not to hurt your feelings or anything. i just need to point out some key things that i see repeated often in these conversations

it's not "believing" that transandrophobia exists, it is acknowledging that it exists. this is not a religion. this is much like gravity in that this form of oppression doesn't cease to exist just because someone doesn't believe in it. it's not like god, belief is not necessary. it will happen regardless of whether or not you believe it's happening

i really need you to understand that transmascs and trans men are PEOPLE above all else and talking over them and telling them they don't actually know what they're going through and need someone else to explain it for them is so fucking horrible. please don't do that to an entire group of people. transmascs and trans men ARE reliable narrators on their own lived experiences. why is it okay to freak the fuck out when trans men speak for trans women, but trans women are the only ones we can listen to when it comes to trans manhood? please consider how screwed up this double standard is. if you refuse to listen to trans men talk about trans womanhood, do the same when trans women talk like they know everything about trans manhood.

why is it considered the intersection of being a man + being trans when it stems from transphobia and misogyny?

because that's not what it refers to! trans men and transmascs experience misogyny but they're not using "transandrophobia" to mean "misogyny 2". it's specifically because they are trans MEN and nothing else. we did not reinvent misogyny, this is a specific experience that we face that people can learn about if they just listen to us talk about it!

transandrophobia is a specific type of transphobia that is directed towards trans men and mascs that is specifically directed at them because they are trans MEN and trans MASCS. it's NOT stock standard transphobia, transmascs & trans men are specifically being targeted because they are trans MEN. being told that you're "not a real man" because you're trans isn't misogyny. being told you're "not really a gay guy" because you're trans isn't misogyny. mocking trans men for not having deep enough voices or enough facial hair to pass isn't misogyny. telling trans men they're not real men because they don't have penises isn't misogyny. telling them they're not real men because they like women's clothing isn't misogyny. telling them they're not real men because they work in a female dominated field isn't misogyny.

mocking trans men who can't grow body hair for not "being real men" isn't misogyny. telling them they're not real men because they have feminine interests isn't misogyny. telling them they're too short to be a man isn't misogyny. telling them their face or body isn't masculine enough to be a man isn't misogyny. trans men getting misgendered for their voices isn't misogyny. getting called a "tranny dyke" or a "cunt boy" when someone finds out a trans man is trans isn't misogyny... all of these things are transandrophobia. these no longer have anything to do with being perceived as a woman, these have to do with being perceived/attempting to be perceived as a man/masc.

trans men are affected by misogyny too, but it's not the same as transandrophobia. as a matter of fact, telling a trans man that they're experiencing misogyny when they aren't IS transandrophobia..

I also feel really bad that So Many ppl who believe in transandrophobia are really rude to transfems.

i'm going to lay it down painfully easily for you, but when you say things like that, it really comes across as virtue signalling. i'm going to be blatantly honest with you here. it really sounds like you're trying to suck up to transfems for brownie points by saying trans men don't suffer any forms of oppression at all and that people who acknowledge that transandrophobia exist are mostly rude transmisogynistic assholes. you're participating in silencing trans men & transmascs for the sake of trying to look more Trans Friendly to transfems and trans women and we can see it for what it is. please stop. this isn't flattering. it scares transfems and trans women when you do this because we don't know when you'll turn that hatred, malice and ignorance toward us whenever the narrative shifts again. this does not make us feel safe around you.

acknowledging that transandrophobia exists doesn't mean someone is attacking trans women and trans fems. like i'm sick and tired of the "people who believe in transandrophobia are really mean to transfems" shit. it's not true! this is way over exaggerated for the sake of making trans men and mascs look bad. i cannot stress how much this is NOT true for every single person who acknowledges that transandrophobia exists. i have a lot of friends who acknowledge that transandrophobia exists, trans men, transmascs, and all other kinds of genders, including trans women and transfems! you know how many of them are ACTUALLY rude to or attack trans women?

0. none. i'm not saying those people don't exist but they are NOT the norm. hell, there are literally trans women who acknowledge transandrophobia exist. the world is not as tiny as you've been made to feel it seems. there ARE shitty people out there who acknowledge that transandrophobia exists, but it's not the norm. it's not the vast majority of us. we have to stop having this knee jerk reaction of "trans woman = defenseless pure cant ever hurt anyone constant victim always hurt by men no matter what the context is" and "trans man = evil because man subhuman deserves to die literally an attack to every and all trans women around them"

i would suggest actually reading the anons i get about transandrophobia if you want to learn more about it! please stop listening to people who AREN'T trans men and transmascs when it comes to what kinds of oppression they face. nobody else actually knows what they go through. please actually listen to THEM. it's not helping trans women by refusing to listen to literally every other kind of trans person. it's not alleviating trans women of the oppression we face to deny that other people can be oppressed, too.

also whether or not ppl wanna accept it, transmascs and trans men are human and you really, really do need to care about that. like genuinely. please just open your heart and care about transmascs and trans men in a way that doesn't involve throwing them under the bus to attempt to look better to transfems. it's not helping anyone. put your ego down for a good few hours and actually listen to other people- and yes, i really do mean more than just trans women. listening to trans women is great. we appreciate it. but stop silencing other people in order to do that. it's not necessary.

[plaidos]

The craziest part of all that Dropout discourse about how they almost never feature transfems outside of drag is that dozens of people were saying shit like “Well, if you don’t have any recommendations of trans feminine comics, then you can’t complain and you’re just looking for something to whinge about and you’re just as bad as them”

like first of all, i don’t live in LA and neither to most Dropout fans — it’s their job to find interesting & exciting talent local to them, not ours. secondarily this complaint & belief basically implies that the reason Dropout barely ever features transfeminine talent is because they just haven’t “come across” any. I saw literally dozens of TME people asking “well how do we know any transfems are applying?” — first of all, transfems who applied for positions at Dropout personally reached out to me to tell me that real world staff members of Dropout agree with me & that all of the transfems who are involved behind the scenes in the company do feel like they are being undervalued and underrepresented.

but secondarily, this just implies that Dropout would’ve definitely had more transfems if only they knew about talented transfeminine performers or if ant had applied — and this betrays such an obviously transphobic understanding of this situation. There are not so few trans women comics in LA that it would not be incredibly easy for Dropout to find one, and the belief that we are is indicative that you see us as some niche incredibly rare minority. there are straight up thousands of trans people in LA. LA famously has an incredibly rich & diverse scene for transfeminine talent.

…but even beyond that, the fact that many Dropout fans can’t name any transfem comics to suggest Dropout hire (which, by the way, that’s not how this works, and the reason most of us weren’t doing this is because it doesn’t make any sense to, it would be ridiculous to demand Dimension 20 hire one specific person?) is not an indicator that they “just want to whinge and don’t actually care” — it’s an indicator that transfems are so underrepresented that many people outside of the industry haven’t seen any big popular transfeminine comedians/etc. like… isn’t that fucking sad? isn’t that tragic??? isn’t that absolute proof that we need more people like us highlighted?

it just seems like a good way to punish transfems for complaining. Like I really don’t understand why so many Dropout fans are so upset at the fact that trans women are saying “hey, it’s really disappointing how little we’re represented, could we have more?” other than because they fundamentally don’t want to see us outside of as a drag queen. Like sorry but us wanting more transfem comedians doesn’t make it our responsibility to name each one. It’s giving “if you’re a fan of this band, name five of their albums” Why? Why should transfems have to name ten counterexamples every time they felt underrepresented? It’s an objectively shitty double standard.

[baeksqt]

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐒 — alexia putellas

alexia putellas x barcelona!reader

(a/n: on a roll trying to pump out my drafts cause I can feel the drought coming soon from uni >_< I’ve had this alexia piece gathering dust from last february)

word count: 2234

genre: somewhat fluff with angsty tendencies??

tw: emotional cheating

part two

summary: trying to keep your heart in check, but alexia’s charm keeps slipping through the cracks

You had always dreamed of playing for FC Barcelona. The moment you stepped onto the training grounds for the first time, it felt surreal, like walking through a dream you were afraid to wake up from. The weight of the crest on your chest, the legacy of the club, the camaraderie…it was everything you’d imagined.

What you hadn’t imagined was Alexia Putellas.

Alexia had a presence that couldn’t be ignored. As captain, she carried herself with an effortless confidence, but it wasn’t just her skill that made people gravitate towards her. It was how she made everyone feel like they belonged and were part of something greater. You admired that. Admired her.

But admiration was one thing. Whatever this thing brewing between the two of you? That was something else entirely.

It started subtly.

You noticed the lingering glances during drills, the way Alexia always seemed to pick you as a partner for rondos, and the teasing remarks that hovered just on the edge of something more. At first, you thought it was just the team’s natural warmth, a culture of closeness, of sisterhood. But then came the casual brushes of Alexia’s hand against your arm, the way she’d lean in just a little too close when you were reviewing plays, the way her eyes would linger just a second too long.

You weren’t unaware of the tension that danced just beneath the surface; rather, you were cautious. Caution was necessary because no one on your team was privy to the intricate details of your life back home. It wasn’t a secret in the traditional sense—more of a quiet truth you didn’t feel the need to broadcast. Lucia, your girlfriend, had been your unwavering supporter as you took the leap to move to the vibrant city of Barcelona. She understood the sacrifices involved, even as the miles stretched between you. You had made her a promise, a vow echoing in your mind: you would make it work, that your bond was resilient enough to withstand the distance and that nothing essential between you would change.

But things were changing, weren’t they?

After an intense afternoon training session, most of the team had already headed inside, but you stayed behind to run a few extra drills. You were focused, dribbling through a set of cones, when Alexia appeared at your side, effortlessly matching your pace.

“You know, overachieving isn’t always attractive.” Alexia teased, her voice light, but there was a glint of something more in her eyes.

You smirked, side-stepping around a cone. “Good thing I’m not trying to be attractive.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.” She chuckled, a rich sound that sent warmth prickling down your spine.

You rolled your eyes and tried to focus on the ball at your feet, but it was hard when Alexia was right there, watching you with that signature, half-lidded smirk.

“You always this serious?” Alexia asked, dribbling in sync with you.

“Serious wins games.” You said without missing a beat.

Alexia grinned. “Yeah, but flirting makes them fun.”

You barely managed to avoid tripping over the brightly coloured ball that had rolled onto the path. With a swift recovery, you straightened yourself just in time to see Alexia snatch it up, a playful glimmer dancing in her eyes that made her amusement unmistakable. “You’re unbearable,” you muttered half-heartedly, nudging her lightly with your shoulder in an attempt to redirect the conversation to a more comfortable territory. But Alexia didn’t shift away; instead, she leaned in just a bit closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You like having me around though.”

You swallowed hard, a knot forming in your throat as you grappled with an unfamiliar warmth creeping over you. The afternoon sun beat down relentlessly, but the flush in your cheeks hinted at something deeper—an awareness that you could not shake. “I like winning. You help with that.” You attempted to keep the atmosphere light, forcing out a nervous chuckle that barely masked your racing heart. Alexia, ever perceptive, tilted her head to the side, a playful spark dancing in her eyes as she regarded you with an amused smirk. “Good answer,” she replied, the corners of her lips curling up in delight. A quiet sigh of relief escaped your lips as Alexia leaned back a fraction, the teasing tension lingering in the air between you, thick and palpable.

In the locker room later, you sat down on the bench, wiping sweat from your brow. Your phone buzzed with a message from Lucia: Miss you. Call me later?

You stared at the screen, feeling the weight of the distance between them more than ever. You were loyal, you loved Lucia. But Alexia had a way of getting under your skin, of making you question things you didn’t want to question.

“You good?” a familiar voice broke through the haze of your thoughts, pulling you back into the bustling hallway. You looked up to find Alexia standing a few feet away, her silhouette framed by the harsh fluorescent lights. She leaned casually against the row of lockers, one leg crossed over the other, a relaxed posture that somehow emanated confidence. The warmth in her gaze was new; it held an unexpected softness that made your chest tighten slightly.

“Yeah,” you replied quickly, a hint of defensiveness creeping into your tone as you shoved your phone deep into the recesses of your bag. “Just tired.”

Alexia studied you for a moment, her brow slightly furrowed in concern, but she didn’t press further. Instead, she offered that signature smile of hers, bright, infectious, and impossibly charming. “Dinner tonight? A few of us are going out.”

You hesitated, feeling a wave of uncertainty wash over you. You were acutely aware of what this invitation could spell out—more time spent close to Alexia, infused with her teasing laughter and those lingering looks that made your heart race. Despite the swirl of apprehension, you found yourself nodding, the corners of your mouth lifting in an awkward smile. “Yeah,” you said, the word escaping as a soft agreement. “Sounds good.” 

As Alexia turned to walk away, her laughter trailing behind her like a melody, you let out a slow, deliberate exhale. You leaned against the cool metal of the locker, the weight of the day and your mixed feelings pressing down on you.

This was fine. This was friendly. This was nothing.

The problem was, Alexia didn’t let up.

On and off the pitch, she found ways to insert herself into your orbit, offering to run extra drills with her, sitting next to her during team meetings, and walking alongside her after training. And every time, there was that look, the one that made you feel like you were standing on the edge of something dangerous.

You regretted saying yes almost immediately.

Dinner with the team was intended to be a simple outing, a chance to unwind and bond over good food and drinks. Yet, the moment Alexia stepped into the bustling Barcelona restaurant, the atmosphere shifted. You should have sensed the impending chaos and politely declined the invitation, preferring the comfort of a quiet evening at home. Instead, here you were, surrounded by a vibrant mix of teammates at a long, rustic wooden table, laughter and lively chatter enveloping you like a warm embrace.

The aroma of grilled seafood and roasted vegetables wafted through the air, mingling with the sounds of clinking glasses and cheerful toasts. But amid the joviality, your thoughts were consumed by the presence of Alexia. She sat so close that every subtle movement caused your arms to graze against each other, sending a jolt of warmth through you. Her laughter rang out, bright and infectious, drawing everyone in, but for you, it was a reminder of the tension layered beneath the surface. You should have called Lucia, sought the solace of familiarity, and anchored your heart where it truly belonged. Instead, you played along, trapped in this delicate balance of camaraderie and unacknowledged longing.

“You don’t drink?” the blonde asked, raising an eyebrow as you stuck with water while the others sipped on glasses of wine. You smiled faintly. “Nah, not really my thing.”

“You’re always so serious, chica,” Alexia leaned in slightly, her voice low enough that only you could hear, “Ever thought about letting loose?”

You met her gaze, trying to ignore the way your heart thumped harder. “I’m plenty of fun,” you arched an eyebrow, “just…in my own way.”

Alexia smirked, eyes twinkling with something you couldn’t quite place. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

The rest of the team was oblivious to the tension simmering between you two, caught up in their own conversations. You did your best to focus on the food, the chatter, anything but the way Alexia kept looking at her as if she was trying to figure her out.

Without any hint of hesitation, Alexia leaned closer, her breath gentle and warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “You know,” she whispered, her voice low and inviting, “if you ever want to talk about whatever it is you’re keeping locked away, I’m a really good listener.”

You froze in place, your fork paused mid-air, a piece of food forgotten as her words sank in. Alexia pulled back slightly, a playful, innocent smile dancing on her lips, but behind that façade, you sensed a deeper intention. She was observing you keenly, prodding and probing, pushing the boundaries to see what lay beneath your guarded exterior.

And the worst part? It was working.

The night stretched on, and you found yourself relaxing more than you intended. The conversation flowed easily, and you were reminded of how much you truly loved being here. How much you loved the game, the city, the team.

But every now and then, Alexia would say something, touch your arm softly, or glance at you in a way that made your thoughts spiral into dangerous territory. By the time you left the restaurant and the team spilled onto the lively Barcelona streets, you felt like you were walking a tightrope. 

“You heading home?” Alexia asked casually, falling into step beside you as you walked through the city. 

“Yeah, early training tomorrow.” You nodded.

Alexia smiled knowingly. “Always responsible.” 

“Someone has to be.” You shot her a look. 

You walked in silence for a moment, the cool air wrapping around you both like a gentle shroud, before Alexia broke the stillness. With her hands tucked into the back pockets of her jeans, she spoke in a softer tone, almost as if she were sharing a secret. “You know, I get it. Keeping parts of your life to yourself.”

You stiffened slightly at her words, glancing at her with curiosity and caution. “Do you?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Alexia nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Yeah,” she replied, her gaze drifting to the ground ahead. “People expect things from us. Sometimes it’s just easier to keep certain things private.” She paused, taking a deep breath as if the weight of her confession lingered in the air. “But…it can get lonely too,” she added quietly, her eyes flickering with a hint of vulnerability.

You contemplated her words, the significance hanging between you like unspoken truths, debating in your mind whether to share your own feelings. After a moment's hesitation, you finally responded, “Yeah,” your voice low and reflective. “It can.”

As they approached the intersection where their paths would diverge, Alexia paused for a moment, an indecision flashing across her face. She looked up at you, her eyes glimmering in the soft glow of the streetlights. “Well,” she said, a small, almost hesitant smile forming on her lips. “Goodnight, chica.”

“Night, Alexia,” you replied, your voice slightly strained as you forced a smile back at her, feeling a mix of emotions swirling within you.

With that, you turned away a little too suddenly, your heart pounding in your chest as you walked briskly down the street. Each step felt heavier than the last, the sounds of the evening fading into a dull roar in your ears.

Once you finally arrived at your apartment, you slumped down onto your bed, the familiar comfort of your room juxtaposed against the storm brewing inside you. Your gaze fell on your phone, which lay silently beside you. An unread message from Lucia caught your eye, its simple declaration striking a chord deep within: I love you. Call me when you’re free.

A sigh escaped your lips as you ran a hand through your hair, frustration and longing intertwining in a tangled mess of emotion. You loved Lucia, you truly did, but the weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings hung in the air around you, suffocating yet inescapable.

You lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, your phone resting on your chest. Lucia’s message glowed softly in the dark, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond just yet. Your mind was still tangled in the evening, in the way Alexia looked at you, and spoke to you.

This isn’t a problem, you told yourself. I’m just overthinking it.

And yet, you knew better.

You sighed, finally picking up your phone and typing out a quick reply:  I love you too. I’ll call tomorrow, I promise. Training ran late.

A lie. A small one. But it was easier than explaining why she hadn’t called sooner.

[swaps55]

I know everything feels so bleak right now, but I need you to believe me when I say there is hope. Sometimes you just have to look for it, in places you're not used to seeking it out.

One of the things I occasionally do for my job is attend networking events with people who work in planning and development for public agencies like cities, state universities, transit agencies, etc. They talk about the projects they're working on, from new roads to new academic buildings to public parks to new rail lines.

These aren't elected officials - these are people who are doing the work. They're looking at the problems the people they serve has, and are looking for ways to fix them. And they're doing the work. They're looking for solutions, fighting with budgets, making compromises to ensure that they can make at least some of these ideas real.

In the one I attended yesterday, I listened to four different transportation agencies talk about all the ways they are trying to extend rail lines to relieve traffic congestion and pull cars off the road. They have so many challenges in their way, but every day they get up, go to work, and try. Because it will make lives better.

Another project in my area is working hard to add a park to one of the most underserved areas of a major city to make lives better for the people who live there. Right now my job is trying to make sure the awesome people I work with are the ones they pick to make that idea a reality. That's cool. That's some good I can put back into the world.

A community college here is going all out to build more on-campus housing to help relieve the housing crisis because of how many students get their education while living out of their cars. They see this happening - and they want to help. Guess what! I voted to give them more money to do those kinds of projects, and they got the money.

I wish you could hear how passionate and excited these people are. They care. They see problems in their communities and want to fix them. Many times they'll have the wrong priorities, have ideas that won't work, suffer unintended consequences, etc. They're human. But still get up and they try. Every day. That hasn't stopped with this new administration. It won't stop.

If the big picture is making you feel hopeless, look at your community and see what's happening there. These are things that can affect you directly - and make your life better. There are Leslie Knopes in the world!

It may feel like you have no power over what's happening, but I beg you not to lose hope. Even the smallest kindness is an act of rebellion right now. They are trying to take good out of the world. Every good thing we put back in it stands in defiance of that. Good comes in so many shapes and forms. Good is still out there.

All is not lost.

[frostedpuffs]

i know this is probably a very unpopular opinion but i prefer the new animation over the old style. Adrien's new design will take some getting used to but everyone else looks AMAZING. and im sorry, i know we all loved the old animation, and it's nostalgic, but it was OUTDATED. miraculous needed an animation update so badly. some of the old episodes looked a little bit too much like cocomelon if im being honest!

i think a lot of people hate the new animation because they don't like change, which i get. I initially felt the same. but i think it's a massive improvement and those people who are refusing to watch the new season bc of the change are doing a massive disservice to themselves and the show.

it's all just so fun! the background characters have more diversity. there are so many more little details (like the strands in Marinette’s hair, the red streaks in ladybug's, the seams on their suits, Marinette’s room having clutter, the wrinkles/textures in clothing, nino's curls, and the entirety of Paris looking less dead). all the characters feel so much more like themselves and the new animation brings so much life to them. the new akumatization sequence is so cool and creative.

overall, i really, really love it, and i don't understand why people are so adamant saying it's bad when it very clearly isn't? other than disliking change which i do understand. but man im gonna be honest, it feels like this fandom hates any sort of change and literally always has something negative to say. shows getting an animation update after a long runtime is completely normal and happens all the time. maybe not this drastic of a change, sure, but it's very common. after 6 seasons of this show id HOPE the animation would've changed and been more up to the higher quality standard other animated shows are.

anyway, loving season 6 so far. loved episode 2. excited to see more. i adore this show more than words can describe it makes me so happy

(please do not make me regret keeping reblogs on by coming on here and telling me why you dislike it and arguing with me. i am fed up w the negativity)

[sergle]

ALSO IMPORTANT TO NOTE, people dropping mad mad sums of money on gfms and charities and stuff are extremely impressive but that DOES NOT MEAN that putting like $5 towards someone's fund or any good cause is any less valuable, a lot of crowdfunding is about momentum and those single digits add up super fast, you do not need to be Rolling In The Dough to make someone's day!! moving the dial at all is extremely positive!!

[cazort]

this is exactly how I feel whenever someone responds to a cry for help by "You need to get therapy."

like no shit Sherlock, would you see someone bleeding out on the ground and tell them "You need to see a doctor." ?!?!?

cause that's how it comes across sometimes.

Therapy has been hard enough to access when I have had insurance. Imagine not having insurance. I spend around 7 years of my adult life uninsured. Any therapy I paid for was out of pocket.

now, self-help WAS useful. and I got some precious good advice during this period and it helped me a lot.

some things that REALLY helped me:

the right self-help books, which I was able to get used online incredibly cheap

stable and supportive friendships, especially people who reached out to me and checked in on me periodically

good financial management skills. a bank with a low minimum balance and a transparent fee structure with few fees. a brokerage account that I could move money into and out of with fewer limitations than a bank, allowing me to save and access higher interest rates. paying my credit cards off in full every month and totally avoiding high-interest rate debt

having a cheap place to live and roommates to share rent and utilities and also to hang out with and look out for each other

having mostly good relationships with family at least most of the time. and having some other people in my life who were like family.

eating well, and specifically, knowing how to eat well. realizing I was vitamin D deficient and starting taking vitamin D. discovering red lentils and how cheap, easy, tasty, and healthy of a food source they were. more broadly, realizing the financial and health trap of processed foods and getting out of it.

I don't want condescending or trite advice to do some stupid thing I've already heard 100 times. I want real, actionable advice and tips. The kind that I share with others.

Like yesterday I realized I could use foam packing material I had saved, to fill a gap under a windowsill that was leaking cold air, to reduce my heating bill. I want tips like that. 1000 of them. Things I might not have thought to do that will improve my life, my comfort, my finances.

i think a lot of the conversation around self help is useless to anyone who isn’t financially stable. no amount of affirmations and manifestation and effort to take control of your own life can change the material reality of living to work and pay rent and scrape by. and it’s not a moral failing to be incredibly frustrated by this or even to experience depression and dysfunction because of this