#and at least two of them aren’t in English

[artificialcaretaker]

There’s no fucking way I got into school mandated classic lit yaoi again why the fuck does this keep happening……

[Literally praying that we read page 222 in class I need to see everyone’s reaction to that.

Also, Bromden is literally me. Bro will start talkin about his paranoid delusions and how the Shadow Government is controlling him and I’ll be like “ONG TWIN 🫡🫡🫡”

That may or may not have some implications on my current mental health status.

ALSO also, I finally changed my signature. I no longer want to be associated with the same thing I used to mark the yaoi hentai I drew in middle school. That ain’t me. I’m a changed man. Like hell I’ll ever find it again but the important thing is that I’m moving on.

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

i'm down on my knees, i wanna take you there

summary: you are suiting up for your first mission, the only problem being everyone "forgot" (intentionally withheld) this information from Logan wc: 2.3k a/n: thank you thank you so much for all of your support about my other Logan fic!! I am really enjoying writing for him, and have a few ideas for this Logan as well as some for Worst!Wolverine aka Deadpool 3!Logan as well! More info about empath!reader's powers and her role at the school in this one <3 warnings: slight (incredibly) slight angst, protective!Logan, a bit of a hurt comfort vibe, Ororo, Scott and Jean are meddlers this is the previous fic with these two, not required reading at all, though!

The leather was cool and surprisingly soft against your skin. There had never been reason for you to have to accompany a mission requiring one of the suits before, and you were shocked at how comfortable the uniform was. Typically, when you were asked to help with a mission, you were there for intel. Scope the place out, get a read on the general vibe of the place. Your powers didn’t provide the same level of protection as laser eyes or a strong regenerative healing factor. You would typically arrive with Rogue, in clothes from your own closet and one of the least fancy cars from the garage. You would slip in, get your read, and get out. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to help, you just lacked the training that the other members of the team had. And after all, someone had to stay back to mind things at the school. When Charles had approached you a few months ago about some possible applications for your mutation that would come in handy on missions, you’d been hesitant. It was so outside of your comfort zone to load yourself onto a jet that you’d never even considered the possibility. You were far more comfortable in the library where you held English classes for the students, or helping Charles keep students calm while exploring their powers. Neither scenario included the possibility of a lot of violence. 

Ororo helped you finish zipping yourself into the suit, smoothing her hands along the sleeves before giving you a final nod of approval. Jean and Scott granted you small smiles and you did your best to look as confident as you knew they felt. 

They’d promised it was a simple mission, the kind they usually took students on when Charles felt they were ready to join the team, if that’s what they decided to do after wrapping up their schooling. Charles had heard word of a young mutant who had some kind of telekinetic powers and had recently had an eruption while at school. Everyone agreed that it would be best to find them and convince them to return to the school for some training with as little force as possible, only expedited by the fact that Charles had found them hungry and afraid after running away from home using Cerebro. In the past, the kids had been resistant due to huge amounts of fear, causing them to lash out. You knew they were right that your powers would be useful at times like these, and if you were able to help in any way you were inclined to. 

“The fuck do you think you’re doing to her?” You sighed. It wasn’t that you were all conspiring to keep this a secret from Logan. It wasn’t a discussion that you’d had to agree on group espionage. It just seemed that all of you had a sort of understanding that it might be better to ask forgiveness rather than permission. Not that you needed permission. 

Logan looked furious, and what’s worse, he felt furious. You and Charles had been working to extend your powers over further distances, no longer needing to touch someone directly to know how they feel. Though it certainly doesn’t hurt matters. You’d sensed him upstairs, seemingly pacing around and seething. You’d hoped one of the kids had gotten on his nerves, or something on tv had set him off. You could see that was foolish now. 

“We aren’t doing anything to her,” Scott had his visor on, blocking his eyes from view, but you didn’t need to see to know that he was rolling his eyes. “She’s chosen to accompany us on a mission.” 

“A small mission!” Ororo chimed in, doing her best to give Logan a reassuring smile. 

You checked back in with his aura. Still furious. But it was a nice try, you supposed. Logan’s hackles were raised, his chest heaving. This certainly wouldn’t do. “Can I have a moment with you,” you glanced around the room, briefly meeting the other three mutant’s eyes. “Alone?” 

Logan was still staring daggers at Scott. He wasn’t even the one who suggested you were ready to come along. Jean and Charles had approached you this morning. You laid a hand against his arm, hoping to lead him out of the room, but he flinched away. The pang in your heart was immediate. Did he really think you were so callous that you would ever use your powers without his express permission, or some kind of emergency. You could feel the tears starting to gather in the corner of your eye, your arms wrapping protectively around your midsection. 

Jean slipped one arm through Scott’s and took Ororo’s hand with her other, gently leading them out of the room. “We are going to check a few things with the jet, last minute.” She began to hustle them out of the room. “Call if you need anything!” 

The door shut firmly behind them, and you were left alone with Logan, who looked like he was going to start shaking. “I wasn’t going to-”

“You don’t think I know that?” You can’t help but recoil. You have never been afraid of Logan, even when it may have been in your best judgement to be wary, and you still aren’t. But you can’t deny that it hurts when he snaps at you. Especially when you thought, well. You thought you were growing close. You started to turn away, but before you could, a warm hand caught ahold of your arm. “I’m not… fuck.” He took a heaving breath, shaking his head as if he could clear whatever thoughts were bothering him. “I’m not mad.” 

Despite the serious energy of the conversation, you couldn’t help the incredulous look you shot his way. He tried his best to hide it, but you could see the corner of his mouth turning up at you. “Fine, I’m not mad at you.” 

“You know, you really can’t be mad at anyone, they were just doing-” you were cut off when you fell Logan’s hand traveling down your arm, and pushing your sleeve up gently from where it was covering your hand. He slipped his hand into yours and you felt yourself relax a bit. “Just, take a look, yeah?” 

“Are you sure you want me to?”

“I trust you, bub.” You searched his eyes for any sign of hesitancy, but all you found was trust. Complete and utter trust. You nodded, tightening your own grip on his hand. Doing your best not to let the gentle rub of his thumb against your knuckles distract you, you took a deep breath and opened yourself up to his feelings. 

At first you did feel anger, bright red and hot. You sifted past it, steeling yourself. The first time you had encountered such strong anger, you had felt as if you were going to collapse. But you were stronger now, more prepared to deal with these kinds of feelings. The anger was strong, but also surprisingly shallow. In the depths of his emotions, Logan was worried. Terrified. A deep dark purple that made your own hands shake. His grip on your hand tightened, effectively drawing you back to yourself. There was more, a soft inviting pink that you didn’t dare to touch and shiny bright gold, which told you he was proud. 

You opened your eyes, fighting back the heat you felt creeping onto your cheeks. His expression hadn’t changed, pure trust and tenderness. It should have been disarming, or at the very least surprising. Logan wasn’t so open and honest with people. But the two of you had always had different expectations for the other. 

You couldn’t help it, a smile crept over your features. “You’re proud of me?” 

He rolled his eyes, but his smile only grew. He took your free hand in his, pulling you in closer. “I’m always proud of you.” He hesitated for a brief moment, and you did your best to bite your tongue. You could tell Logan had been making an effort to open up lately, and not just to you, but that didn’t make prolonged silences and easier to bear. “I know it’s not my place to demand anything of you.” 

“You’re my… friend.” You cut him off, wincing at the pause. It didn’t feel like the time to pressure him into labeling whatever feelings may be floating around. “And I always want to hear my friend’s opinions. What’s bothering you so badly?” 

“I could hear your heartbeat from upstairs.” Your eyes grew wide, too shocked to try to school your expression. Logan had told you several times that he had learned to block out his enhanced hearing when he was quite young. Usually to tease you when you got on a long tangent about something you enjoyed. He pretended to zone out and ignore you, but he would always remember small details about your rants, bringing them up nonchalantly at a later date  “I, uh, keep an ear out sometimes. Helps with the worry.” 

He worries about you? Even more surprising, he’s listening to your heartbeat like background music to his day. You promise yourself you will ask him about it when you don’t have a room full of your friends waiting on you. “I thought we’d covered this. I can take care of myself.” 

He sighed, bringing a hand to rest gently where your jaw meets your neck. “Sweetheart, I know you can. But that doesn’t stop me from watching out for you.” 

Your hand moved to rest overtop of his. “The good news is that I will have lots of people watching out for me. You know they won’t let anything happen.” You receive a single huff in return. He’s not convinced. “You know that these are the kinds of missions we send the kids on. I’ll be fine.” 

He considers for a moment, before dropping his hand and nodding. “Give me a second to get changed, and we will head out.” 

You grabbed for his hand, but he was already out the door, and moving too fast for you to stop. “Logan, don’t be ridiculous.” 

“What’s ridiculous is you thinking that I would ever let you go out there alone.” 

“As we already established, I have three very capable friends coming with me. I am only going as a contingency plan.”

“Well then consider me the contingency to the contingency plan.” You huffed, following him next door. 

You darted around in front of Logan, pushing against his chest with all your strength, even if you were fully aware that it was the equivalent of a fly buzzing around him. He stopped all the same, eyebrows pulled together in frustration. “I know you’re worried and I know that this is you trying to help.” Logan had his I’m about to interrupt you look on his face, leaving you to shove him again. Thankfully, he understood your intention. “This is important to me. You can’t be there every time, and I have to stand on my own two feet. I want to contribute to the work we do here more than just teaching kids about how awesome Shakespeare is.” The look was back. “Which is still an important contribution.” You added, which seemed to appease him. “But, I don’t want it to be my only contribution. So I am going to go and make sure that this scared kid who is all alone out there makes it back here safe. And you are going to stay here and make sure that everyone gets dinner and help with their assignments. And then when I get back, we are going to have a talk about all this.” 

“All this?” A smile crept back onto your face, hearing the teasing tone in his voice. 

“Oh my god shut up!” He caught your hands before they made contact with his chest, but he was slow to let go this time. He brought the back of both of your hands to his mouth, dropping a small kiss on each one, before returning your hands to your side. 

“If you come back with so much as a bump to the head, Scott’s dead.” 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, and pointing out that this was exactly what you were talking about earlier did little to sway him. So you gave in, agreeing to give him a full report before slipping your hand into his and tugging him towards the jet. 

“We’ll be back in a bit.” You promised. You could feel the others staring from just inside the jet, but you barely noticed. Logan was checking over your suit meticulously, tugging zippers a few more clicks up and making sure that the collar wasn’t too tight around your neck. He kneeled down, checking to make sure the laces on your boots were double knotted. “Logan,” you laughed, reaching down to tilt his head up to look at you. “I’m too seconds away from sending a lot of exhaustion your way and leaving you passed out in here. You have to let me go, it’s going to be fine.” 

He remained kneeling for a second too long, a look in his eyes you couldn’t entirely place. The sound of the jet powering on broke the both of you out of your trance. He was on his feet in a flash, checking over you one final time. You rose up on your tippy toes, balancing by resting your hands on his shoulders, before gently kissing him on the cheek. You pulled back, nose scrunched up from the tickle of his facial hair. “We’ll be back in a few hours. Hold down the fort for us, yeah?” 

He nodded, pupils slightly blown out and a dreamy look on his face. You giggled, walking backwards for as long as you can before turning around and finding a seat on the jet. You could feel Jean and Scott’s eyes on you as Ororo began maneuvering the jet out of the garage. “Don’t even start.” You muttered, settling firmly into your seat, doing your best to soak up the pride and confidence the others were projecting into the cockpit. 

as always, feedback is so appreciated! if you have any requests for these two/wolverine in general, please leave them here!

next part

[erwinsvow]

wait imagine rafe’s reaction when shy!reader is talking (for once) and his friends start interrupting her and her words slowly die out, or even as a shy girl i always get self conscious when it looks like people aren’t paying attention to what i’m saying so i just stop talking at all😭 which i feel shy!reader would do with rafe.

this was the sweetest prompt ever for these two ♡ i completely feel the same way have always been like that too! my favorite thing in the world is asking people to finish their stories after someone else interrupts or remembering where they left off. small angelic behaviors!

"-and it's about two brothers, um, it follows the idea of cain and abel through different generations, so it's the brothers and then his sons, but-"

you're perched next to rafe, one of his hands around your waist keeping you in place, the other around his beer. he takes a sip, looking down at you talk about the book you were reading.

kelce had asked, and rafe is glad he did. you're too shy for your own good, clamming up around everyone. he wants to make you comfortable around his friends, at the very least. it's been going well so far, while you ask questions to them over sips of lemonade and reply thoughtfully when they answer.

you're interrupted by topper and the girl he's picked up ever since he stopped chasing after sarah.

"sounds like an english class book," topper comments.

"those books were always so boring. remember that one about the guy and the eyes-" his new girlfriend continues.

"i need another beer. kelce, need one?" topper asks, and you fall silent, curling up further next to rafe. he looks down at you, wondering why you're not continuing. you're quiet, leaning your head on his shoulder and playing with the hem of your dress.

they're talking about beer and classes now, even kelce sucked into the conversation. rafe doesn't like that, not at all, not the way your excitement faded away the second they stopped paying attention, the way topper interrupted, the shit they're talking about now instead of getting to know you, especially when you had listened to them so attentively.

"top, shut the fuck up. and stop cutting my girl off." they go quiet at once. you can hear your heart thudding in your chest. you look up at rafe surprised that he said anything. "keep goin', kid. so they're brothers?"

when it's just the two of you later that night, you hug rafe tight, pressing your head into his check and staying like that for minutes, feeling him rub your back and kiss your forehead, before pulling you away by your neck.

"what's that for?" he mumbles.

"for listening to me."

[sleep-0-deprived]

HIHIHI!! I saw that your rquests are open now, sooo, can i ask for twisted wonderland? Ruggie, Vil and and/or Floyd with a bunny male reader who is from Heartslabyul and is Riddle buttler pratically (like the white bunny and the queen of hearts), and they're only serious by Riddle's side, but when they're with their partner they turn into a flustered mess and get they knees weak, like all head over hell for them!! Nsfw or sfw whatever you want/can do (idk if that's right cause english isn't my native language so yeah, also if you didn't liked it only ignore this) :)

Twisted wonderland x male bunny reader nsfw and sfw head-cannons ~

A/N I decided to give both nsfw and sfw also I decided to do it as headcannons since I didn’t think you wanted it done poly in a fic so I hope you don’t mind!

Sfw

Ruggie

He loves to tease you every chance he gets even when your filling your duty’s to riddle he loves being able to walk up to you and whisper something really teasing in your ear then walking off leaving you standing all stiff and a flustered mess before riddle.

Ruggie also likes to tug on your bunny ears maybe even pull on your tail in public almost to show off he gets to make you flushed and touch your ears unlike anyone else can.

Vil

Vil loves to play with your bunny ears when you two are alone he likes to hold you in his lap playing with them whispering pet names to you doing his best to make you a mess in his lap.

Vil also loves doing your skin care he always compliments you saying how perfect your skin is without anything but he also makes your mental health is cared for just as much as he does with your physical.

Floyd

Very rare does he ever display touches or flirts with you in public but when the two of you are alone he likes conversation and closeness to you the most but he like the others is very happy in his ability to make you all embarrassed often asking you condescending questions when he sees you embarrassed.

Floyd likes to have tea with you and chat after classes enjoying your intelligence finding you the least annoying is what drawed him in to you since you were just the standard heartslabyul student but to his surprise one you two started dating he sees your real personality and it was unlike anything he expected but some how that just draws him in more.

NSFW

Ruggie

He’s very teasing even in bed whispering lewd words into your bunny ears watching your body tremble under him as your cheeks turn a bright red your eyes all wide and mouth agape when he thrusts into you making your pouty lips let out mewls and gasps.

Ruggie is the type to make sure your a blabbering mess by the end of the round, he makes it his goal during sex to ruin you because it brings him pride seeing such a smart and strict bunny boy like yourself all wrecked with your hole stuffed with his cum twitching tight and pink on the inside from him.

Vil

Vil is the type who doesn’t like doing things that bruise he’s all for hickies and kissing but he doesn’t like bruising your skin claiming it to be too perfect to ruin but he will get caught up during sex and get handsy gripping your hips tightly holding them up while he thrusts into you with his hand on your leaking cock rubbing your pre cum in.

Vil also enjoys handjobs, they aren’t as messy and they are enjoyable to sit next to you while you study in your dorm room, slipping his hand inside your uniform stroking you and palming your cock hard til you can’t stand it then making you cockwarm him as you study aloud for your next test with your bunny tail wiggling against his groin.

Floyd

Floyd is very strict he will grip your bunny ears and pull them tight making you gasp shoving his cock Down your throat grunting things like “be a good bunny yeah?” As you drool all over his shaft making a sloppy mess as your eyes roll forward looking up at him as you deep throat him holding his thighs for support sitting on your knees with gurgling noises as your lips wrap around him and your jaw wide open.

Floyd’s favorite position is doggy style because he gets to watch your ears lay flat on your head with the bunny tail right above your ass twitching frantically as your ass takes him stretching your rim widely around his girth as he holds your droopy head up by your bunny ears watching your face contort lewdly into expressions as you drool on yourself pouting to flustered to speak as he whispers humiliating words to you making you arch gripping the bed sheets

[russo-woso]

hii i have an alessia russo request :)

basically reader is a huge fuckgirl and everyone knows this, then when she meets alessia after alessias transfer to arsenal they become really close and start sleeping together but r makes it clear it’s just casual, then lessi starts catching feelings for her and r is aware of it but she is kinda playing with alessias feelings and showing mixed signals, eventually lessi breaks down and starts yelling at r about how cruel she’s being by playing with her feelings, happy ending though please maybe there’s an explanation on why r was acting the way she was?

also please write it with a bottom!alessia :)

No strings || Alessia Russo x Bronze!reader

Warning smut 18+, ab riding, fingering, orgasm denial, bottom!alessia, top!reader

It’s a long one :)

Moving to Arsenal from Barcelona had been a hard move.

You knew it would be a hard move but you had prepared yourself for it.

The worst part of it all was the fact you were leaving your big sister, Lucy, behind.

Over the summer, you had been too focused on the World Cup to think about the dread of moving, but once you reached the airport, Lucy approached to say goodbye and that’s when it finally hit you.

You hated it.

You hated the fact you had to move.

But you had to. You had to leave.

You had to leave her.

Her being Jana Fernández.

You and Jana had been dating since you were both twenty and had dated for two years, however, when you were still madly in love with her, she came to you and said she had fallen out of love with you. She told you that you weren’t the one for her, and that killed you.

Once you’d broken up with Jana, it just became awkward and toxic to be around her.

Every training, you purposely avoided her but it became impossible to do that when you were always put at partners for training.

So you left.

You left everything behind so you could have a new beginning, and you wanted that.

You promised you wouldn’t fall in love again, not for a while at least, but that rule started to fade once you saw her, Alessia Russo.

Still being 22, you were playing with the under 23s, however, within the days prior to meeting her, you had received your call up for the World Cup.

Due to the fact you were only getting your call up then, you had never met Alessia but Lucy and Kiera had both told many stories with a certain blonde striker in them.

Alessia and you signed your contracts for Arsenal on the same day and the photographers suggested you take pictures together, which meant Arsenal got to show off their two new signings that could potentially be the future of English football.

It was only after the shoots that Alessia spoke to you.

“You’re Lucy’s sister aren’t you?” Alessia asked and you nodded in response, worried that you’d stutter if you opened your mouth. “You two look alike.” It was the truth. You and Lucy really did look alike. You both were tall, muscular, tattooed.

“Alessia, right?” You questioned, already knowing the answer and was confirmed when she nodded. “I’ve heard lots about you from Luce and Kiera. I’m guessing you’re the blonde striker that goes by Less in their stories.”

“They talk about me? What stories do they tell you?”

“There was this one story where you supposedly tripped over someone’s boot and face planted the floor.” You slightly giggled as Alessia’s face went a light shade of red. “Don’t worry, I’m clumsy too. Ask Luce. I’ve always been clumsy since I was a toddler. Running into stuff, tripping over things, everyone says they’re surprised I don’t trip over the ball when I play football.”

“No way, I get told that all the time.” You and Alessia laughed as the similarities you shared arose.

“Anyway, I best go, my plane back to Barca is in a few hours and you know what London traffic is like.” You joked and Alessia smiled. “See you in Australia?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you in Australia.” Alessia confirmed and with a small smile, you waved and left leaving a very confused Alessia.

Alessia had never come across a girl who made her feel the way you made her which racked her brain full of questions about you, and herself.

———————

“Luce, come on, I don’t like her. I can’t like her.” You complained as Lucy kept going on and on about you liking Alessia.

Once you’d gotten back from London, you told Lucy your encounter with Alessia and she had been teasing you for the past week.

You were currently on the way to London to meet up with the team before making your way to Australia for the World Cup.

“Yeah, but you do deep down, don’t you?” Lucy asked, desperate to get the truth from you.

“Kiera, please tell her to stop.” You begged, for the fourth time, as Kiera looked, unimpressed, at the both of you.

“Lucy, stop it.” Was all Kiera said and it was your turn to look unimpressed at her.

“Look, Luce, I get it. You’re my older sister, you want to know who I like, but I can’t like Alessia. Not after Jana.” You explained and Lucy gave you a sympathetic look. “And anyway, Alessia doesn’t even like girls.”

“Listen, kid, as your older sister, it’s not just my job to know who you like, but it’s also my job to make sure you’re happy, and if I think you’d be happy with Alessia, I say to shoot your shot.” Lucy told you and you nodded along, pretending to listen to her when actually you were blocking her voice out because you knew you wouldn’t do what she was saying.

Once Lucy had finished talking, she pressed resume on her laptop and went back to watching her film which you were grateful for because it meant that you didn’t have to continue the conversation.

———————

“Y/N, hi.” You heard a voice say before a pair of arms wrapped around you.

“Hi Alessia.” You said, taken aback at how sudden the action was.

“How are you? How was your flight from Barcelona?” Alessia questioned, you figured to try make conversation.

“It was good. A bit of turbulence and Lucy being annoying, but other than that, fine.” You replied, grabbing your suitcase before starting to walk away, hoping to end the conversation with your action but nope, Alessia grabbed hers too, walking side by side with you.

“Oh, why was Lucy being annoying?” Alessia asked and you mentally screamed.

As much as you wanted to speak to Alessia, like you really really wanted to, you couldn’t.

Could you?

“Just being herself, you know?” You lied, definitely not being able to tell Alessia the truth.

“Y/N!” You hear Georgia shout from across the terminal and you let out a small thankful sigh, not loud enough for Alessia to pick up on it though.

“I’ll see you on the plane, okay? Bye less.” You smiled at her, before walking to Georgia who enveloped you in a hug.

——————

To say you had had the best weeks of your life was an understatement.

Smashing through the group stages and winning against Nigeria, the whole team had an excited buzz around them.

The only thing that could make the summer even better, was if you could just admit your feelings to Alessia.

Over the past weeks, you and her had grown closer and closer, and you were definite that feelings were there for her but you pushed them away, also definite that your feelings were wrong.

To celebrate the win against Colombia, the whole team decided to go out after the match.

It had started with you saying you weren’t drinking much, but with constant nagging from Lucy, Mary, and a few other girls to drink, you figured you might as well.

You deserved to and it also meant you could get them off your back.

Once you had your first drink, you expected to feel a bit tipsy and then that would have been time to head home.

However, what you didn’t expect to happen, was to be drunkenly taking Alessia back to your room.

Whilst at the bar, flirty and needy touches from both, you and Alessia, had occurred and you took Alessia’s hand in yours, leading her outside before planting your lips on hers.

“Stay in my room tonight.” You whispered in her ear, breaking your lips from her jaw.

Alessia nodded almost immediately, moving to look you in your eyes before pressing her lips on yours.

From that moment, you booked a taxi and eventually ended back at the hotel, you and Alessia the only ones there.

You led Alessia upstairs, not letting your lips off her.

As you entered the room, you pinned Alessia against the wall, moving your lips down her neck whilst her hands tangled themselves in your hair.

A small sigh escaped Alessia’s mouth, her grip in your hair tightening as you continued to attack the sweet spot on her neck.

“Fuck” she murmured, whilst you licked the sensitive, fast growing mark on her neck.

You grabbed ahold of the bottom of her shirt, pulling it quickly over her head, before reconnecting your lips with her body.

This time, instead of moving to her neck, you pressed your lips to her collarbone and down to her chest, just above where her bra sat.

“Move to the bed?” You questioned, pulling away from her body.

“Please.” She whined as you grabbed the back of thighs, lifting her up, effortlessly, and carrying her to the bed.

You placed her down in the centre of the bed before climbing above her.

“Fuck, you look so good beneath me.” You whispered in her ear whilst reaching beneath her to unclip her bra.

“Take this off.” Alessia told you, playing with the hem of your shirt.

You sat up, nearly ripping the shirt off you, your abs flexing at the cool air.

You watched as Alessia’s eyes trailed down your body to your abs, her eyes growing when she landed on them.

You smirked lightly before grabbing the top of her trousers, pulling down swiftly along with her underwear.

“Please hurry up.” Alessia mumbled, your mouth quickly attaching itself to her right nipple.

“Patience, pretty girl.” You told her, your voice husky which clearly affected Alessia because the moan she let out was almost pornographic.

Your tongue swirled around her nipple, your teeth often biting down gently to give her even more pleasure.

“Please, Y/N.” Alessia begged, and you lifted your head to look at her.

Her eyes were screwed shut, her head against the bed.

You locked eyes with hers once they opened, the blue that you’d fallen in love with was the only thing you could focus on.

“Are you sure you want this?” You asked, needing the confirmation before continuing.

“I want this, I’ve wanted this for a long time.” She revealed and you lowered yourself so you were in line with her pussy.

Planting teasing kisses to her inner thighs, you eventually thought it was time and connected your mouth with her mouth.

Alessia sucked a breath in as you made contact with her.

The whole experience was intoxicating for you.

The taste of her was intoxicating.

The smell of her was intoxicating, the perfume she wore was all you could smell.

Her laugh was intoxicating.

“You taste so good.” You moaned shamelessly into her pussy which made her buck her hips into your face.

You grabbed ahold of her thighs, keeping them in place whilst you continued to eat her out.

Your tongue took turns between going to her core and to her clit.

“I’m so close.” Alessia breathed out, her breath uneven and ragged.

You hummed in response, sending vibrations through Alessia’s body, moving her closer and closer to the edge.

The sounds escaping Alessia’s mouth made you feel like you were in heaven.

You felt Alessia’s pussy begin to clench so with a final lick you pulled away, leaving a very confused and angry Alessia.

“What? I was so close.” Alessia whined, out of breath.

“I know, pretty girl, but you’re gonna cum. I promise.”

You wiped your mouth, due to it being covered in Alessia’s juices, before leaning down to kiss her.

She moaned into the kiss due to her tasting herself.

As you deepened the kiss, you felt Alessia’s hand work its way to your abs, slowly tracing her fingers over them.

You smirked into the kiss, knowing how much she loved them.

“‘m gonna flip you, okay?” You stated and switched your positions so now, head was against the headboard and Alessia straddled your hips, more so your torso.

She bucked her hips at the contact with your abs.

You grabbed ahold of her hips, slowly guiding her up and down your abs.

“That’s it, pretty girl.” You praised her as she started to pick up the pace of her hips.

Moans escaped Alessia’s mouth and she increased her speed.

With the sensitivity from the denied orgasm, you figured Alessia would cum quickly and as you expected, she did.

It didn’t take long for her to mumble that she was close.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Oh god — ‘m gonna cum.” Alessia nearly screamed, and at that point, you flipped her again so she was beneath you and you slipped your fingers into her.

You continuously pumped in and out of her, to push her over the edge.

Curling your fingers to a particular spot, she moaned for the final time and her legs spasmed around your arm.

“God, I love you so much. I’ve loved you for ages, Y/N. I’ve wanted your lips on mine for months.” Alessia revealed and your face turned white.

You were speechless.

You didn’t know what to think. Maybe it was just post orgasm talk. Or maybe it was the truth.

“And I’m not just saying that because you just gave me the best orgasm of my life. I really do like you, Y/N.” Alessia admitted.

Bingo. There was your answer.

Thoughts swirled through your head.

You liked her back. You know you do. But you couldn’t. You knew you couldn’t.

“I’m gonna get a clean cloth and I’ll help you clean up.” You told her, desperately trying to change the topic.

“Oh, okay.” Alessia said, the sparkle in her eyes disappearing which killed you to think that you were the reason for the action.

You promised yourself from that moment that you wouldn’t sleep with anyone, especially Alessia, until you were ready for an actual relationship.

Seeing Alessia hurt and confused killed you, and you didn’t want to experience that again.

You broke that promise though.

Following the win against Australia, the girls went drinking and Alessia ended up in your bed again.

It wasn’t planned and you didn’t intend for her to end there.

But similarly, you left her confused and hurt when you came up with an excuse for her to go.

You hated it.

You hated yourself for making her go through torture.

But most of all, you hated yourself for giving her mixed signals.

You ignore her when you walk past her, but then sleep with her.

You pretend like you don’t know her, but then sprint to her when she scores.

You show her that you don’t like her, but then show her that you love her.

You figured Alessia would snap at you at some point.

What you didn’t expect, was for her to snap at you at the worst time possible.

After the final and the loss to Spain, the team went out for a final time, hoping the drink would take away their emotions.

The night consisted of alcohol, dancing and jealousy.

The jealousy part in all the girls who were jealous of Spain for taking the win, but for you, it was a different type of jealousy.

Throughout the night, a bloke had made his way to Alessia, a flirty smirk resting on his face.

You saw Alessia smile back and within the space of a few hours, they’d gone from talking, to his hands resting on her hips as they danced.

You hadn’t realised just how jealous you were until Mary pointed it out.

“Mini Bronze, what’s with the frown and the red face? Angry are we?” Millie teased and the rest of the team agreed.

Instead of responding, you got out of your seat, stomping over to Alessia and the guy before pushing him away from Alessia.

“Get away from her.” You almost shouted as he pushed back.

“Why?” He snarled, harshly pushing you again. “Are you her girlfriend?”

“What if I was? Have a problem with that?” You squared up to him before he threw a punch.

You eyed him down, throwing a harder punch back.

You felt a pair of arms wrap around you and Lucy telling you to stop.

She separated you and the bloke before telling him to get out.

“What’s your problem?” You heard Alessia shout at you.

It took you, and the rest of the team, by shock at her shouting because she never raised her voice.

“You give me signs that you like me and then you ignore me! You fucking sleep with me, but then walk straight past me the next day. I like you Y/N! Why can’t you just tell me if you like me back? I just want an answer!” Alessia continued to shout.

You watched everyone’s jaws drop at the sudden reveal.

“I do. I do like you Alessia. I’ve liked you since Lucy and Kiera would come home talking about this climbs blonde striker. But I can’t love you. I can’t.” Your voice broke as you said the final sentence.

“Why? Why can’t you love me?”

“Because…” You were about to explain but remembered all the people who had surrounded you, including your big sister and all your teammates. “Can we go outside?”

Alessia nodded, and you both walked out the door and into the darkness that surrounded the bar.

“Why can’t you love me, Y/N, because I need to know. I need to know if you love me or not. Because I’m wasting my life waiting for you when potentially, you don’t even like me back.”

“I can’t love you because I loved Jana and she left me. I loved her and she said randomly one day that she didn’t love me anymore. I don’t want that to happen to us, because I love you too much Alessia. I think I loved you before I even met you. I don’t want to lose you and if that means staying friends, then so it stays.” You explained, Alessia’s face changing from anger to sympathy. “I wish I could love you Alessia, I really want to. But I don’t want any of us to get hurt.”

“I don’t care if I get hurt, Y/N. And I promise I won’t hurt you. I’d rather quit football than hurt you. I’d give up football in a heartbeat for you, and that’s telling you something. Please, let me love you.” Alessia said, inching closer and closer until she stated the last sentence against your lips.

“I’ll never stop loving you.” You whispered against hers before connecting them.

This time, the kiss was slow and full of love.

“I’m so sorry for everything, Less. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to confuse you.” You rambled as you pulled away from the kiss.

“It’s okay. I understand, I promise you, I understand. That’s in the past now.”

Alessia was true.

Jana and that experience was your past, Alessia was now your future.

[astroninaaa]

wtf is going on with cellbit - by a brazilian law major student

hey besties ever since the day cellbit released that PDF i’ve been keeping up with his shit bc as a law student (only two years to go!!!!) in brazil it’s kinda really interesting to see how it goes, specially since i don’t think we’ve ever had this sort of judicial action taken by an internet celebrity, like, ever. so i’ve decided to kinda explain what’s going on. if anyone has any questions after this i’d be really up to talk about it i love talking about law 🫶 xoxo let’s start. also sorry if anything reads weird english is not my native language okay

for those who don’t know, very recently, a judicial action taken by cellbit has made public. in this action, he’s suing over 200 people for the crime of defamation.

the action was taken to court in january, but it was under what we call “secret of justice”, which means only cellbit himself and twitter’s lawyers had access to it. now that there have been decisions by the judge and everything, the process’s been made public.

basically, cellbit started an action against twitter (NOT THE PEOPLE WHO COMMITTED THE CRIME YET), citing a little over 200 tweets that accused him of crimes like SA, psychological abuse, pedophilia, and others. all of those are real crimes in brazil — and accusing someone of committing crimes (specially as awful crimes as those) without proof is a crime in itself (defamation). he claimed that the tweets were harmful to his honor, mental health, and reputation, besides categorizing as defamation, since there’s no investigation going on against him for all these infractions he’s being accused of.

with that, he asked twitter to delete all the tweets, and to provide him with the personal information of said twitter accounts so he can sue them directly for defamation. he did these requests through something called “tutela cautelar”, which means the judge gets to decide whether or not twitter has to do these things before proof production and proper investigation, since, if twitter doesn’t do those things, the damage to his honor and reputation will be ongoing + he won’t be able to sue the proper people in time.

the judge conceded to his requests, and twitter has already deleted all the tweets. the main discussion going right now is wtf do they do about the international accounts — does our law apply to them? what’s gonna happen? we don’t know yet. that’s being discussed in court for the moment and, considering brazilian courts, it might take quite a while.

so, yeah, all those people aren’t being sued YET. but they will, probably somewhat soon.

it’s also important to mention that this lawsuit is from january and was only now released to the public. there’s probably a lot more coming after the whole fiasco that led him to releasing his statement, including a lawsuit against his ex herself.

now, other topics — could he sue other twitter accounts for cyber bullying or death threats? probably, but my personal opinion is that suing for defamation and focusing on accounts that were accusing him of having committed crimes was a much better move because it’s a much stronger case.

there’s very little room for discussion when a person has outright said “cellbit committed this crime”. death threats have more room for discussion: “oh, but they’re hundreds of miles away, it wasn’t a serious threat”, “they didn’t mean it”, “it was a joke”. same thing goes for cyberbullying: it can get too subjective.

defamation isn’t subjective. you accuse someone of a crime they didn’t commit? boom, defamation, at least according to our laws. so, to me, personally, it makes a LOT of sense for his lawyers to focus on that: he’s a LOT more likely to win than if he was suing for cyberbullying, threatening, insult, or any of that. also, he’s a lot more likely to win FASTER.

when he gets to sue the actual people who committed the crime, that is. for now, he’s only requested twitter to give him the necessary information to get to these people, which i think they’ll very likely be obligated to do. there are digital data protection laws in brazil, but a crime is a crime. digital data protection isn’t gonna protect you from the court.

another thing: LGPD (brazil’s general law of personal data protection) forces all social media companies to keep records of all the content posted by their users for AT LEAST six months. many companies keep it for way longer. that’s a law created for judicial purposes, in case something published to twitter, facebook, or instagram needs to be analysed by a court. that’s why even tho twitter has deleted the tweets, they still have them, and why it doesn’t matter if the people responsible are deleting the tweets, the accounts, the fucking app itself. the records are still there, and they will be used judicially.

i think that’s the overall for the situation, but i’m willing to answer any questions and to discuss it if anyone wants to! i’m a big law enjoyer. also personally i think cellbit is so fucking right for this like YEAH people don’t get to commit fucking crimes on twitter and get away with it. really interested in how this is gonna go law-wise, but in general also really glad to see someone take action like this.

[lovebugism]

Virgin!Eddie thoughts?

THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT | quid pro quo

summary: eddie muson is a virgin and doesn't want anyone to know (because being an adult who's never fucked anyone is a total reputation ruiner). but you, his favorite customer, are more than willing to change that. pairing: eddie munson / f!reader word count: 6.5k (holy shit this was supposed to be a blurb) warnings: talks of virginity and masturbation, the word "tit" too many times, a handjob (sorta?) 18+ mdni a/n: you asked for thoughts but i had way too many of them for a single post so i might turn this into a whole virgin!eddie series that will only see the light of day if you guys are into this so... no pressure &lt;3

( MASTERLIST ) | ( NEXT )

You were Eddie’s favorite customer, though that went without saying. It was something both of you were more than aware of. Albeit it, it was a little strange, since he — the supplier of your weed — was essentially paying for your high. He doesn’t mind it, though. He never did. You made it up for him in other ways; and, no, it’s not as perverted as it sounds.

It’s actually much, much weirder.

It was your fourth time meeting with him but your first time without any money to give him in exchange. You’re all pink and fidgeting and feeling like a total loser as you shift on the hard wooden bench across from him.

Your gaze is tilted away from his and down at your hands where you twist the rings on your fingers — “I was supposed to get paid last Friday, but my boss is paying me weekly now instead of every two weeks, so he completely changed my payday on me, and he swears he told me about it, but he totally didn’t— anyway, that’s beside the point. I don’t have any money to give you, or like, at all. Genuinely. I’m gonna be lucky if I get to eat anything other than top ramen for the next few days.”

“Damn,” he laughs, not in amusement at your situation but rather pitying you for it. “That sucks—”

“That sounds like I’m guilt-tripping you, doesn’t it?” you keep rambling. “I’m really not. I’m just trying to be honest. I’m not, like, trying to do you over or anything. I swear. You probably don’t even care. You’re my drug dealer, not my friend, I wouldn't blame you if you didn't— I’m making a total fool out of myself, aren’t I?”

“No, not at all,” Eddie assures sincerely, the hint of a smile curling at the corner of his lips. That’s all he can muster. He feels like the fool right about now because your words sting a little harder than intended. 

He always considered you a friend. Or, at least, a whole lot more than just a client. You’re the only customer he has fun with, who he can laugh with, who doesn’t just hang around long enough for him to hand you your drugs like everyone else does, who actually cares enough to make conversation with him.  

Maybe that’s why he chose to give it to you for free that day. 

Because he’s started to grow fond of you (and because he genuinely believes that you’re in a bad way and that money’s a little too tight for you right now. He knows all too well what that’s like.) 

But he asks you for a favor in return when you take the plastic baggie from him. It has him blushing with embarrassment like you’d been just minutes before. He can’t meet your gaze as he says the words, but he can feel the incredulous beam of it piercing holes into him.

“You, Eddie Munson, are willing to give me weed, for free, as long as I… help you pass your next English exam?”

You weren’t repeating it to mock him or to make him feel bad for being a third-year senior. You’re just actually shocked because you know a thing or two about the Munson’s. You know that his Uncle is working two jobs, and his nephew has resorted to drug dealing to compensate for their being strapped for cash. You also know that suppliers giving out anything for free is bad for business, so it’s essentially unheard of. 

And aside from all that, Eddie wanting to study — to want to try to be good at something rather than just winging it and hoping for the best — was almost as surprising as him wanting you to be the one to help him. You literally have Gareth, his best friend, in your English class, and he’s way better at it than you are.

You try to find what makes you somehow special but come up short.

“Is that, like, really weird?” he wonders meekly, scrunching his nose and peering at you through his lashes. His eyes are the color of chocolate syrup, you notice then. Like, exactly. And they have a sort of sheen to them beneath the sun, like he's trapped a star inside of them.

“Yes,” you answer with a laugh that's as light as air. “Considering you could’ve offered literally anything else. Like, I don’t know— groping my tits or something.”

It’s what you were half-expecting. Not because you thought Eddie was that kind of guy, but because that’s how it often went down, at least in porn. A busty (broke) blonde orders a pizza, a man with an enormous dick delivers it… It’s a tale as old as time, really.

Your words make him tense for the second time in five minutes. 

He almost wants to be offended that you’d think of him that way, but his yearning far overpowers his wounded ego.

He’s got a soft heart. That offer never would’ve crossed his mind, and even if it did, he’d never be stupid enough to say it out loud. But he didn’t realize how much he liked you until right then. It wasn’t just a friend caring for another friend, but a boy with a crush on a girl eons out of his league (with boobs he would happily touch if she’d let him).

He clears his throat and irrationally prays that you aren’t a mind reader.

“I’m down if you are,” he answers with a playful lilt to his voice that makes you giggle again. He’s happy to hear it. Your laugh is like being basked in sunshine. He wants to keep it in his pocket when he gets lost in the shade. 

That’s the moment that started it all — the strange friendship that formed out of practically nothing. Who knew what being poor, free weed, an historically low GPA, and a missed opportunity for tit-groping could do to two people?

From then on, all your weed was free. As long as you broke down all the themes in Of Mice and Men for him, of course. And then, when he ultimately aced that paper, he wanted to run his D&D campaign by you — “So, you know, it isn’t totally lame when I show it to the rest of Hellfire.”

“Of course, it’s gonna be lame,” you deadpan from across the rotting bench. “It’s Dungeons and Dragons.”

He goes red at that, a flash of pink blotched around his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. He glows cherry with embarrassment and smiles faintly as he looks down at his hand, fidgeting with his silver skull ring. It’s cute. Too cute. The kind of cute that makes you grin to yourself without even thinking about it.

“I’m kidding, Eds—”

Eds. That was new, the boy remarks to himself. Not the nickname itself, perhaps, but the fact that you were the one calling him by it. You’re getting more comfortable with him. He likes that. It gives him a false hope; that one day he’ll be a friend to you and not just your dealer.

“—It sounds really fun actually,” you assure him with nod and a twinkling gaze that proves you sincere. “As long as you’ll smoke with me during.”

“I don’t really like to use my own product…” That was a lie. Mostly. He didn’t like to smoke his own stuff because that burned a hole into his profits. But that didn’t mean he didn’t do it. It was far too tempting to have a tin full of so much weed never more than just a few inches away.

Now he’s got a pretty girl in front of him, wanting to smoke with him, wanting to spend time with him. Hell’s freezing over as they speak and that certainly calls for a celebratory smoke session.

A smirk pulls at his pink lips and he tilts his head, bringing his ear to his shoulder, as he looks at you with a glimmering umber gaze.

“But I’m willing to make an exception. Just for you.”

Eddie swears you blush at that, but he catches only the shortest glimpse of your crimson cheeks before you duck your gaze to the table. The beam on your face is only half-washed away, however, when you turn up to look at him again. You look shy, almost, as you peer at him through your lashes.

“You’ll basically have to start from scratch too, you know that, right? I don’t know anything about that shit.”

“Well, I’m glad I can be your first,” he quips.

You laugh again. It’s like the pinky-orange of a sunset. He could paint it if he had the right supplies. And a set of hands that were good for things other than rolling die and playing guitar.

It was his first time, really. In every aspect of the phrase.

It was the first time a girl’s ever offered to hang out with him and not the other way around. The first time a customer’s ever offered to share their weed with him. The first time someone’s ever wanted him to explain his favorite hobby and not care that he’s been rambling for the better part of an hour. 

He doesn’t even notice that he hasn’t shut up since he started talking, mostly because you aren’t giving him that look of annoyance people usually have when he hasn’t gotten the hint. Most couldn’t care less about goblins and villains and battles and knights and princesses — princess knights.

It’s more interesting than you ever hoped a board game could be, but less so as enchanting as the glow Eddie’s got about him as he rambles on and on about something that makes him so happy.

He’s beaming and he doesn’t even realize it. He has no idea he could light up an entire solar system with the smile on his face. You’d tell him if it didn’t feel totally inappropriate.

It takes two weeks to perfect the campaign, which isn’t at all long if you compare it to the year it took him to build it from scratch. When the Cult of Vecna (you pat yourself on the back for coming up with the name) is polished and Hellfire worthy, Eddie starts giving you weed... just because.

There’s nothing left for him to offer in exchange. And he isn’t going to turn his favorite customer down for anything.

“What? No tutoring? No D&D campaign?” you wonder with furrowed brows and a face contorted in confusion.

Eddie shrugs and swings the baggie full of greenery back and forth with the tip of his pointed finger. “Nope. I’m passing English and the campaign’s all finished — the guys love it, by the way. Thanks to you. You’ve helped me out with enough shit, so… just take it.”

“Well, now I just feel bad,” you reject with a scrunched nose, displeased at the idea of taking something and not doing anything for it in return. He can hardly afford it to begin with, much less without anything in exchange. “You're basically paying for my weed already. I can’t just take it.”

“You could,” the boy lilts with a sardonic nod. “My hand's getting a little tired here, sweetheart.”

You huff and reach across the bench for the plastic baggie. Your face is still twisted with an absentminded annoyance and your gaze still uncertain. “You sure it’s okay?”

“Yeah. Cross my heart.”

“Fine.”

“Unless groping your tits is still on the table, of course,” he squints playfully over at you and then smiles softly at the recollection of the conversation from many moons ago.

It was supposed to be a joke. But you’re not laughing.

And when you nod at him, he isn’t either.

It’s got him nearly choking on air and sputtering for a response. “No, I was— I was just— It was a joke. I was just kidding.”

“I know. But, I don’t know, I’m down if you are,” you shrug. “That’s what you said before, right?”

And Eddie has no idea what to say to that. Of course, he wants to. There are a billion things he wants to do. He wants to graduate, he wants to play a show at the Madison Square Garden with Corroded Coffin, he wants to bend you over this table and fuck you silly.

He could do all those things if he were a different person, but he wasn’t. He’s just some guy who can’t pass an English class he's already taken three times, with a mediocre band that plays in front of about five drunks (if they’re lucky), who has a crush on a girl who’s offering to let him feel her up for a short-lived high. 

He repeats that last part to himself in his head a couple times. It sounds like a dream he had once. He pinches the skin of his wrist, just to make sure, and winces when it starts to hurt.

It’s real, you’re real, and that’s the scariest part. 

Because he’s never actually seen boobs that weren’t projected from a television screen through the grainy film of a VHS tape, or pictured in a crinkled magazine he stole from a gas station — let alone touched one. And the second he puts his hands on you, and you feel him shaking like a leaf and totally unsure of what to do, you’ll know that. 

That is, if he doesn’t come in his pants first.

He’s terrified that when you do realize that he’s a complete and utter, absolute and proper virgin, you’ll think he’s significantly less cool. And he can’t have that.

It’s bad for clientele. They’ll stop seeing him as the mysterious metalhead from the wrong side of the tracks but rather as some teddy bear who’s never actually been inside a woman.

He could probably handle the potential drop in income and the talks around school. Hell, he could even handle all the shit Jason Carver would spew at him if he knew. But the idea that you’ll stop wanting to hang out with him — he isn’t sure if he could take that.

He doesn’t notice that he hasn’t said a word until you’re speaking again. And even then, it’s all muffled like he’s underwater. 

“I can come over tonight, if you want.”

No, he thinks to himself. That’s far too early. I have to lose my virginity and learn everything there is to possibly know about sex first.

“I... I can’t. Hellfire,” he answers, almost slurring, still caught in a stupor.

“Tomorrow, then,” you challenge at his rejection. You cross your arms and lean over the table as you squint at him. The wind rustling through the trees carries the warmth of your floral-vanilla scent over to him, like a lullaby, or a magic spell.

As though he needed something else to make him all stupid.

Suddenly you're ten feet tall. Eddie feels like an ant. You could crush him if you wanted. You have all the power and the look you give him tells him that you know that. He fidgets on the hard wooden seat but can’t seem to break your stare. His voice is tight and a few octaves higher as he answers — “Yeah. Tomorrow sounds good. Great, even.”

“Cool,” you’re suddenly beaming. You stand from the bench and saunter off, tossing a look and a wave over your shoulder as you shout, “See you tomorrow, Eds!”

He has to jerk off after that one. He counts himself lucky that he made it to his van before he exploded completely.

Eddie has to become a sex god in twenty-four hours and he doesn’t know where to start. 

So, like any master procrastinator, he doesn’t. He just worries about it all night and the following day. He turns himself into a big ball of anxiety (if you touched him, he'd probably shock you) and it’s left him in the sort of worry that doesn’t let him sit still for too long.

Wayne’s sitting in his recliner, trying to eat his late lunch before he heads off to work the graveyard shift. It’s hard to enjoy his sandwich or the latest episode of Miami Vice playing on the television ahead of him when his nephew keeps bouncing in and out of the room. Making brief conversation, rearranging the knickknacks on the coffee table, coming in just to stand in place for a few minutes before leaving again to rustle in other parts of the small trailer. 

At one point, he comes in with the fucking vacuum and nudges at the man’s work boots until he kicks his feet up. Wayne’s never seen him do a chore in his life.

“What the hell has gotten into you today, boy?” the man complains through turkey, cheese, and bread.

“Nothing. What are you talking about? I’m perfectly normal.”

He’s never been normal a day in his life either.

Eddie disappears out of the room a second later with the whirring of the vacuum in tow. Wayne shakes his head to himself. “Boy’s gonna be the death of me,” he mumbles and takes another too large bite.

It’s unlike Eddie not to tell his uncle things, especially things weighing so heavy on his chest that they're starting to feel like pure steel. But his uncle doesn’t ask any questions, and Eddie’s grateful.

How the hell is he supposed to tell Wayne that a cute girl is coming over and that he’s jacked off three times at the thought of her?

Once in his bed, the first thing he did that day when he woke up from a dream about you that felt a little too real; the second in the shower when the cold water wouldn’t kill the boner he’d gotten; and the third in his bedroom, in the shirt he’d peeled off hardly ten minutes beforehand when he got into a bath. It made him feel dirty again though his skin was perfectly clean.

Wayne would think he was joking. At least with the “cute girl” part. He’d probably pat him on the back for the second one — “oh, to be young again,” he'd mumble to himself while simultaneously deciding to leave well enough alone.

Eddie’s so nervous he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

You’ve got him practicing what to do in the mirror, trying to plan the conversation, ironing out the wrinkles of what might happen. “Hi—” he starts but then shakes his head and clears his throat. His voice is deeper as he continues, “Hey, how are you doing? Oh, that’s cool, I’m good too— shit, this is so fucking lame.”

He wonders how you’ll go about it. If you’ll offer first, or if he needs to ask. If you’ll make small talk or if you’ll just straight up take off your shirt. He’d take either, honestly.

He jerks off one more time, just for good measure, after Wayne’s left for work. He’s already tired and his dick is practically raw with how much it’s been tugged at, but he hopes it’ll stop him from getting hard the second you walk through the door. And he figures with the amount he’s come that day, he’s a whole less likely to do it in his pants when he touches you.

You knock on the door at 7 o’clock sharp, like you planned it down to the minute.

He straightens out his leather jacket when he stands abruptly from the couch. He rushes to the door and then hesitates with his hand on the rusted brass handle — because he doesn’t want to seem too eager, right? 

He leans to the side to look in the dirty glass mirror hanging by the coat rack, brushing through his curly locks in attempts to tame them. Then he shakes his head so they’re wild again.

He finds you standing on his porch in a tight-black sweater that dips down at your chest; the pendant of your necklace sparkles under the yellow nightlight perched on the outside wall. It’s paired with a white nylon skirt that stops at your thigh.

He’s only seen girls on TV in the suede boots you’re wearing — the kind that’s tight up to your ankle with a short and chunky heel. They match the color of your skirt. He wonders if they were expensive and how much you’ve worn them; they look brand new, like you’ve brought them down from the top of your closet just for him.

You’ve got a stack of thick tapes in one hand and a brown paper bag of snacks in the other.

“What… What’s all this?” he wonders, not displeased at your effort but shocked by it nonetheless.

“Thought we could have a movie night,” you shrug then slide by him and into the trailer. He shuts the door behind you and watches from afar as you set the sack down. It’s not quite flat on the bottom so it topples over and spills some of its content onto the coffee table — red hot chips and sour gummy worms.

“You mentioned that you’d never seen Fast Times a couple weeks ago, so I decided to go rent a copy at Family Video, right? And then I started talking to Robin and she started showing me all the new movies that just came in, so I got a little carried away—”

You're rambling, he notices, almost like you’re nervous.

It makes him feel slightly better, knowing this obviously wasn’t your first time hanging out with a guy (or being touched by one, if he ever got to that part), but that you were nervous nonetheless. Like you wanted this — whatever this was — to go well just as much as he did.

Eddie puts the tape into the VHS player when you’re headed back from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn in hand. You sit it on the table before plopping yourself in the middle of the couch — the boy across the living room has no idea you spent the two-and-a-half minutes it took to cook the snack debating on where to sit.

You feared sitting too far on one side might spook him from sitting next to you, that he’d think you didn’t want to sit next to him. So you place yourself snuggly in the middle of the decade-old sofa and hope you don’t seem too eager.

Your heart sinks to your ass when Eddie sits so far on the edge he’s practically sitting on the arm of it.

You muster a smile and try to make a joke of it. “I don’t have cooties or anything, Eds.”

“Promise?” he lilts. The way his voice shakes is purely for comedic effect. Obviously.

“Cross my heart.”

He hopes that by playing it off, you won’t notice how anxious he is about sitting next to you. But when he plants himself beside you, just close enough so that the rough fabric of his jeans scratches your knee every time he fidgets, it’s a little like sitting next to a rock. You spend the first half of the movie wondering if he’s nervous too or if he really just didn’t want to sit this close to you.

The film keeps playing and he keeps snacking — eating chips and Oreos and popcorn in a rotation before combining all three and marveling at the taste; “You’ve got to try this!” he exclaims to you with raised brows and wide eyes. He eventually forgets to be nervous.

That is, until Fast Times hits 53 minutes and 5 seconds.

The smooth bass of Moving in Stereo plays lowly in the background as Phoebe Cates rises from the pool water, clad in a small red bikini. The chlorine-laced drops of water glisten off of her tanned skin. “Hi, Brad. You know how cute I always thought you were,” you quote quietly along with her.

Your eyes are as glued to the television as Eddie’s when she starts to unlatch her top, like it’s the first time you’re seeing it too. You joked to Robin once that you couldn't wait until they made this movie in 3D.

Eddie gets hard as a rock, then. In every sense of the phrase.

“She’s hot, right?” you ask him.

“Yeah,” he answers. He clears his throat when the word comes out too tight. “Totally.”

“That’s how I knew Robin was gay, you know? We watched this when I slept over at her house one time and I woke up in the middle of the night and found her playing this scene over and over again,” you confess with a laugh and hope your best friend won’t be too angry you told him this. “She was sitting, like, two inches away from the screen.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. And when we made out afterward, that really sealed the deal—”

“Holy shit—” he sputters before he can stop it. “—Are you joking?”

Please, say yes before I come in my jeans, he thinks to himself.

“Why?” you challenge, shooting him an arched brow over your shoulder. “Does that change anything?”

“What? No! Of— Of course not!” It just makes you, like, ten times fucking hotter, that’s all.

“Good,” you nod and then turn back to the television. You move on quickly, and Eddie’s grateful. You keep telling the story like it’s one you tell all your friends.

“I asked her why she was watching it without me, and she said she got bored, but I already knew why she was watching it, you know? I guess I just wanted to hear her say it. So I just came out with it — ‘If you want to look at a pair of tits, I’m literally right here.’”

Eddie’s so entranced by your words it’s like you're telling him a bedtime story. He’s looking at you so intently, his gaze locked to your profile like he’s trying to commit it to memory. And when you finally turn to look at him again, he can’t seem to turn away, to even pretend like he wasn’t just hopelessly staring at you.

“So, then it became this whole thing, right? Like, I’ll show mine if you show yours. And then she got all awkward and nervous and lost in her head, kinda like you right now, and then I leaned in…” you trail off quietly, doing it in time as the words leave your mouth. So teasingly and breathtakingly slow. Eddie finds himself drifting closer to you, too, like a bayman to a siren’s call. “Just like this… And then I—”

You don’t have a chance to finish your sentence.

Eddie’s already kissing you before he realizes what he’s doing. Your noses knock together, the tip of his crushed against the side of yours. The sweet flavor of your strawberry chapstick evades his mouth when your lips press together.

He’s as shocked as you are.

He’s wanted to kiss many pretty girls in his life, but this was the first time he's actually ever done it.

You feel his face burn red against you when he realizes what he’s just done. He tries to pull away from you, but you keep him there with a hand on the back of his head; deepening the kiss and telling him that you want this — that you’ve always wanted this — without actually saying the words.

Refusing to separate from him, you maneuver yourself to face him more as press yourself against his side and tuck your knees beneath you. You caress the rough pad of his tongue with yours all the while, one hand balled in the shoulder of his t-shirt and the other anchoring itself to his curls.

You wait patiently for him to take action. To grip your waist. To lay you back on the couch. To climb over you and take what’s his.

He never does.

He hardly even touches you. He’s got one palm on your hip, but it’s so featherlight that it’s barely even there. His other hand is clutching the pillow on his lap with a white-knuckled grip, like he’s fighting to contain himself in some way. But you want him to let go. To lose himself with you.

The cushion had been there for most of the movie, something to keep in his absentminded hold and get crumbs all over. You wonder, now, if it’s a shield for something else.

Your lips click wetly when you part from him. A small smile forms on your mouth when you notice a string of spit threatening to connect the both of you. It breaks apart, landing cold below your mouth, and you wipe it away with the back of your hand.

“Are you hard?”’ you wonder through bated breaths, coming right and just saying it.

Eddie’s eyes go somehow wider and his mouth falls agape. “Uh… No?”

Giggling, you ask, “Is that a question?”

“Maybe.”

“So what’s the answer?” you pry.

“Honestly?” he starts with a heavy breath and heavier eyes, still trying to joke. “Whatever makes me sound super cool and mysterious and sexy.”

“I’ve always thought you were all those things,” you confess with a soft laugh, twisting a strand of his hair with the tip of your finger.

“…Really?” he can’t help but wonder. Those words are about the most shocking thing that’s happened so far this evening.

“Yeah,” you nod, then tease: “Because you've never lied to me.”

So tell me the truth, he can hear the words jumbling around in your head. So does. He swallows thickly and then admits, voice cracking halfway through his confession, “I’m so hard that it fucking hurts, sweetheart.”

You’re smiling like the Chesire Cat at that, big and sly and mischievous. You have all the power and you know it.

“Can I make you feel better?” you whisper to him, lilting like you're taunting him. You mean it, though, and he knows that because you’re already tugging at the pillow in his lap. You don’t fight to snatch it away completely. You leave just enough room to allow him to say no. But his grip on the thing relaxes and allows you to slide the cushion slowly from his crotch.

He can’t say the words because his tongue is suddenly heavy in his mouth and his throat is closing on him. So he just nods, peering at you with eyes hooded with ecstasy.

You go back to kissing him, then, unhurriedly this time. You allow yourself to feel all of him, to hold his face in your hands and explore all the bits of him you never got the chance to before now. You do it more so in an effort to get him to relax, to forget to be nervous, but it only half-works.

He gets more comfortable with himself with time. The hand on your waist finds a more confident purchase there and the other climbs up to your face, cradling your jaw while his ringed fingers get lost in the strands of your hair. Then he starts to kiss you back harder, more earnestly than before, like he’s trying to prove something. Trying to tell you everything like this than with words he can’t seem to say out loud.

He forgets to be nervous again when your lips fit together like pieces of a puzzle — the kind with the funky edges, the kind you know goes together because there’s only two in the whole bunch like it. He stops worrying if he’s doing it right.

His breath is warm and heavy as it fans against your cupid’s bow. He’d rather take in small pieces of oxygen like this than stop kissing you now. You feel the same way as you straddle his thigh, careful not to move with too much haste that it knocks your lips apart.

Eddie’s legs part for you on instinct. When you settle more comfortably against him, he can feel the warmth radiating between your thighs through the thick fabric of his jeans. He wishes he was naked right now, more so that you were, so he can feel all of you, bare against his skin.

But he takes what he can get for now. And tries not to burst completely at the thought that the only thing separating you from him was the thin layer of your cotton underwear.

It’s hard not to think about your own pleasure like this. You could so easily move your hips against his thigh, let the rugged fabric of his jeans and your panties do all the work against your clit and bring you to a swift release. You want to. You’re sure Eddie would want you to if you asked him. But it strangely seems less important now.

Because you know you’re minutes away from making Eddie come so hard his legs shake. And you always wanted to know what he looked like when he came.

Your hand worms out of his hair and down his neck. Your fingernails trail lightly over his skin, leaving visible chill bumps in their wake. Your palm falls down his chest and stomach, smooth like drops of summer rain. The print of his Def Leppard tee is rough and cracked with age. You wonder how long he’s had it, how often he’s worn it, as your hand settles again. This time on his belt.

For a split second, he’s anxious about you seeing his dick. What if you think it’s too small? He thinks to himself. What if you think it’s too ugly? But then he realizes you’re not even trying to take off his jeans. You just rest your palm over the rough material of the denim and grip him through it.

A groan crawls up his throat and out of his mouth. His head falls backward and lands against the back of the couch.

He’s bigger than you thought, and warm against the tender skin of your hand, even through his boxers and his pants. It’d be ever warmer if you were feeling the real thing, you discern, but you figure you’ll save that for another time. Because even though it’s not the real thing and there are so many layers separating your fingers from his cock, Eddie’s letting out small and breathy moans that tell you that you’re touching him just right. The more you squeeze, the louder he gets.

“Is this okay?” you whisper to him.

“Are you kidding?” he retorts with a breathless laugh. “I feel like I’m in heaven right now.”

“Just wait until you come,” you giggle. It makes him moan again. His eyes fall shut because he knows he’s moments away from feeling what it’s like — not to come, obviously, but for it to be from your hand and not his. 

You massage him through his jeans, feeling him grow somehow harder with each caress of your fingers. Peering down at him, you can see his jaw clenching, the way it moves his temples, and the muscles in his neck straining as he climbs the peak of pleasure.

“If you think this feels good now, just wait until you're inside me,” you purr to him.

“Oh, fuck,” he drawls shakily at your words. He doesn’t know if you’re being serious or not. He wants so much to believe that it’s a promise, though. The idea that he could unbuckle his belt right now, free his cock from its restraints and slip your panties to the side and take you, just like this, with you on top of him and riding him for all he’s worth, that nearly does him in.

But he’s fighting to keep it at bay. To let this moment last as long as he can. Because it’s entirely likely that he’ll come and you’ll never want to do this again. It’s even more likely that he’ll wake up from this way too vivid fantasy he’s concocted in his brain. How good can dreams get until they’re nightmares again?

The hand on your hip darts to wrap around your wrist.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him, gaze sober and sincere.

Eddie breathes out a tremble sigh of relief when you slow your motions against him. “I just…” he breathes heavily. And swallows. “I really don’t want to come in my jeans.”

You’re smiling again at that, pleased at how good you're making him feel. Like the pleasure is foreign to him. He can feel your grin as you lean down to kiss him. It’s a chaste peck, like you're just sprinkling yourself there so it can linger the rest of the night. 

Your kiss is far more fervent against his neck, wetter and more passionate. His skin has a faint taste of salt, like he’d been sweating. And he was, for the entire day that he anticipated your arrival, though there was never an ounce of him expecting this. You bite at the strained tendon and marvel as he shudders beneath you.

“It’s okay,” you leave your promise against his skin. “I’ll wash them for you after. Like a good little housewife—”

It was a joke and he knows it because you’re laughing at the absurdity of your words, at the reality of them. You’re probably the only person in the world giving your drug dealer a handjob for free weed and then offering to wash his damp bottoms when he comes in them — calling yourself his fucking housewife. But, for a reason he can’t explain, that’s what gets him.

Not marrying you, perhaps, but the idea that he could have this feeling forever. That you could bring him to complete and utter, blinding bliss and then take care of him while he comes back to earth. 

You give him an especially tough squeeze that sends a moan spilling roughly from his throat. His hips jerk up to their own according, his thigh jamming into your clothed pussy — he swears he hears you moan — and his toes curl in his boots.

He doesn’t let go of your hand as he comes. He grasps your wrist and presses you further against him. His grip is almost too tight but you don’t mind it, not when you can feel the denim growing damp with the evidence of his orgasm.

Eddie doesn’t feel anything for a while after that. It’s just pure pleasure for several long moments. The fuzziness of his climax, your hand pressed against him, your warmth still pressed against his thigh.

But then the high fades away like a rolling summer cloud and he starts to feel the wet patch forming in his clothes. The fabric of his thin boxer starts to stick to him and he almost feels gross, like he’s a teenager again who can’t so much as look at a woman with needing to come.

But then he sees the way you look at him, grinning like a cat who got the cream — because, in some ways, you are. You look like you're proud of him. Like you’re secretly wondering how many times you can do that before it’s too much. He wants to find out too.

You plant another kiss to his lips. Just because you can.

“Take your pants off, Munson,” you mumble against his mouth, kissing him one more time for good measure before pulling away again.

“Oh— shit— wait, really?” he sputters. “I thought you were joking about— about me being… I— I don’t know if I have any condoms.”

He totally does, in an unopened box under his bed, collecting dust. 

You don’t need to know that, though.

“I meant for washing them so you can change,” you laugh at his embarrassment. The sound somehow makes him feel better even though you’re slightly making fun of him. You shrug and arch a brow at him, lilting, “But… I’m down if you are.”

have any more virgin!eddie thoughts? or just thoughts about my writing/requests in general? leave them here if you want! ꒰◍ᐡᐤᐡ◍꒱

[seokgyuu]

The Sweetest Thing - Teaser

All your life you’ve been your sisters’ punching bag. Never good enough. Never fully accepted. When your mother makes one of them choose you as her maid of honor you reluctantly agree. Semi-vacationing in Tuscany with your ‘beloved’ family, you meet two handsome strangers one night and let them do whatever they want with you. Too bad you didn’t ask for their names first.

Pairing: Heeseung x F!Reader x Sunghoon 

Genre: Strangers to ???, Porn with Plot

Warnings: CHEATING!!! reader is hooking up with her sisters’ fiancés, sisters are horrible and suck, mentions of past verbal abuse, reader is somewhat a pervert (she defo is), heeseung & sunghoon definitely are perverts, heeseung & sunghoon are mean, they have nothing good to say about their fiancés, alcohol consumption, adult content MDNI! smut warnings will be in actual fic

Word Count: 5.7k (so far)

Release Date: August 8th

Taglist: @skzenhalove, @haelahoops, @deobitifull, @shiningnono, @jakeswifez, @slut4hee @gyuhanniescarat , @branchrkive @doublebunv , @capri-cuntz, @jaehyuniewifeu, @whateverhoon, @c-oupsie you can be added by replying to this post or sending me an ask <3 there must be an age indicator in your blog since this is a nsfw fic! 

Something about the Italian sky seems different. Maybe it’s because you’re not close to a big city, but the stars shine brighter than you’ve ever seen them. It feels like a movie; the stars and moon so visible with no cloud in sight, the small street of Arezzo you’re currently sitting in - a small restaurant with a small menu but a nice older man that speaks decent English. A glass of wine standing on the small table beside you and the first bit of peace you’ve felt in days. 

It’s when you take your next sip of wine you see them. 

Two men straight out of a magazine walking towards one of the free tables next to yours and sitting down. There is nothing you can do but stare. Both of them have dark hair, one of them a bit shorter than the other. They are dressed elegantly, designer shoes and pants, blazers hanging over their chairs. Even if you wanted to - you could not possibly say which one was more attractive. 

What a nice way to end a horrible day, you think. Smiling, you finish your glass and immediately order the next, not entirely used to drinking so much, but not caring since you are miles away from home and no one here knows you anyway. The waiter nods and then proceeds to go over to the newcomers. The one with the slightly lighter hair and the mole on his nose orders in perfect Italian, with just enough of an accent for you to know they aren’t from here. Your choice of table appears to be perfect for watching them, listening to them converse in a language you understand. 

And it all stays innocent like this - they talk about their flight and about friends - until suddenly the conversation sways.

“I honestly- fuck, I can’t believe we’re actually doing this, you know?” The one with shorter hair says and his friend sighs, taking his wine glass and finishing it in one go. Impressive. There was at least half left in yours. 

“I don’t know what to tell you. We committed and now we’re fucked.”

“Just that we aren’t getting actually fucked.”

They look at each other before they laugh, shaking their heads. Meanwhile, your ears perk up. 

“Fuck, I really don’t know the last time she let me hit it, Hoon. I think I’m going crazy.”

“Yeah, same here. Like, yeah, we fucked once the day before her flight. But literally only missionary and she didn’t suck me off.”

“Again? Dude, is she ever even putting her mouth on it?” 

“Nope. Ever since we got engaged she’s like this fucking prude. Is yours like that too?”

“Yeah. I got her flowers and her favorite chocolates and she still wouldn’t even jack me off, like fuck, if it’s gonna be like this forever I can just go cut my dick off.”

Jesus. These two seem to be in very happy relationships. Makes you almost feel better to not be in one. Even if your mother would beg to differ. She’s been desperate for you to find a match for ages. For whatever reason, really, considering her two golden girls were about to get married to rich and handsome heirs. 

“Just one good blowjob, man, that’s all I want, really. I miss getting some good fucking head.”

The way short hair looks at mole - with so much understanding and pity, you can’t help but chuckle. Chuckle loud enough for them to take notice. 

Their gazes burn on your face before you even see them. But when you do your smile dies and instead makes room for horror. They heard you laugh at them. Even worse, they know you’ve been listening. Shit. 

Thankfully, you are three glasses of delicious white wine in and the fourth one is almost empty. Which means you aren’t the sweet little wallflower you’d usually be. Scary, how alcohol can change people.

“Oh, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have eavesdropped.” You apologize, placing your hand over your heart. 

“Agreed.” Short hair says, his eyebrow raised. Now, with both of their eyes on you, it seems like they are even more attractive. Perfect faces with pretty eyes and soft looking hair. Handsome men in unhappy relationships that fail to give them what they need. It’s almost comical how the switch in your head turns over, how the persona you normally never let anyone see until you’re in a secluded space comes out and gives you the courage to speak your next words.

“I just couldn’t believe my ears,” you let your finger glide over the rim of your glass, eyes on the two men with your tongue slipping out to lick over your bottom lip, “how anyone would be opposed to having sex with you.” 

Oh.

Sunghoon and Heeseung’s ears perk up just like yours did earlier. Eyes widen slightly as they understand the innuendo in your words. 

They think about the same thing - the last time they took a girl together. Probably during senior year in college. Back then, they used to do that regularly. Having almost the identical type in women. Instead of having to let her choose, she’d get them both. 

But it’s been years since then. They are in committed relationships now, about to get married. And still - neither of them can deny that you fall right into their usual prey, or well, the prey they’d chosen back in college before their parents had picked out their wives for them. 

It’s the way you look at them, the way your eyes say so much more than your words. It is also the way both of them feel like they are 22 again with nothing but getting their dick wet on their minds. One thing about Heeseung and Sunghoon - they always worked perfectly in a pair. Back in college and now, too. They can almost read each other’s minds at this point, only a short exchange of looks needed to know neither of them gave a single fuck about anything right now.

“Want to sit down with us?” Sunghoon asks and points at the free chair opposite them. You smile. 

“It’d be my pleasure.”

header credit @wongyuseokie <3

[nmakii]

‘Can I ask you to do something about Alastor×reader? About y/n being a modern girl (2023-2024), and she often has strange gestures or words towards Alastor. One time she talked to him in modern language, making him confused and very curious. (You can expand the situation as you like, sorry my English is not very good)’

NEW IS ALWAYS BETTER!

— alastor x modern!reader (platonic or romantic!)

— alastor calls reader “good girl” so mostly fem!coded

— I WROTE THIS AND THEN IT GOT DELETED I MIGHT KMS.

alastor gets slangs that are common such as LOL, WTF, IDK but doesn’t get some that aren’t as common like LMFAO, IDRC, or WTAF since they’re just making them longer, so it’s quite useless…

he also doesn’t quite get shortcuts for words. one time you left him a note “lol brb rq imma b back in like 20 min. j gon pick smt up” most of it was honestly gibberish to him, but at the very least, he understood you’ll be back in 20 minutes.

gets really angry when you say things like “stop reaching, gooner. you’re just pissed that you’re a beta.” because; one, you’re blatantly disrespecting the radio demon and telling him to shut up. and two, he doesn’t get what any of that meant. what’s a gooner?

also gets annoyed often when you start singing songs like “i’m the alpha, i’m the leader” or “sticking out your gyatt for the rizzler” because, it’s a reflection on modern society and how music quality in modern times have plummeted significantly.

what happened to those beautiful songs such as “the man i love”? has it been replaced by this rizzler nonsense??? honestly, you’re giving alastor more and more reasons to dislike modernity… you’re lucky he finds your company enjoyable

in a desperate attempt to connect with you, he asked angel about your humor, hoping he’d understand. alastor knows that if anything, velvette would know. but, he’d rather get beaten by lucifer than ask the vees for help…

sadly for him, angel is just as confused. although, he at least knew what this alpha bullshit was, vaguely explaining furries and the alpha-beta-omegaverse to him…

you were in the hotel den, scrolling on social media as alastor walked in. “s/o, be a dear and fetch me some chicken breasts from the butcher, would you? i’d like to prepare something for tonight’s dinner.” alastor smiled

“hmm… nah. go do it yourself, furry” you giggled brattishly. “hahah… what did you call me?” alastor asked sternly, his face now close with yours, antlers increasing only slightly in size. “ah…” you stuttered.

alastor was never this mad when you said stuff like that, what was so different today? maybe he was in a bad mood? “ah… ill get it…” you conceded, using your hands to lightly push alastor away, lest he decides you’ll be for dinner…………

alastor snickered before patting you on the head. “good girl. don’t call me that again, this old dog can still learn new tricks, y’know?” he teasingly sang out. “huh?” you asked. “did you learn what a furry is?” you bit your lip, holding back your laughter.

“indeed, i did. horrifying that you’d think i would indulge in such hobbies…” he sighed, looking a little uncomfortable through his stressed smile. “what..? i don’t think you’re a furry, alastor. it’s not that deep. furry is just something that i used to laugh about with my friends back on earth.” you shallowly laughed, copying his actions by rubbing his hair.

he has to admit, that little mistranslation was a little funny looking back on it. but, he is a little disheartened that he got you scared over nothing. you were just having your fun and he got all pissed off. he’d definitely try to instead ask you about your slang as to prevent such a thing again…

[riality-check]

A continuation of this post. Part 3

ao3

As that long-haired guy walks away - his friend onstage called his name, but Steve didn’t catch it - Robin nudges Steve.

“Asshole roadies,” she says, sing-song.

“Get fucked,” Steve says with her.

It’s tradition, that little chant. Every gig, there’s always one venue where someone with far less experience says something. Steve knows he was blunt and probably shouldn’t have said anything with that tone, but after too many times, his patience is exhausted.

He can’t even blame the blunt thing on ASL. If anything, he’s meaner in English.

It makes sense. He knows English a lot better. He and Robin only started taking the ASL classes two years ago, when he really needed it. His left ear had been pretty much gone for a while (fuck you Billy Hargrove for putting ceramic in his scalp), but he sucked it up and started learning when his right ear started going, too.

Honestly, he has no idea what caused that.

Two years of ASL means he and Robin aren’t fluent yet. Not even close. But between that, his residual hearing, and the lip reading he’s relied on for longer, Steve does alright. If he wasn’t at a gig, he’d bring his hearing aids, but that’s a recipe for disaster and broken equipment.

Plus, he’s learned he can’t focus on his job when he hears as well as feels the music.

Robin taps his arm again. You good?

I’m good, he signs back.

They finish setting up before they grab a snack. The venue is pretty tiny, a standing room only place that serves pizza and a few drinks, and that’s it.

The pizza is really good though.

They finish up their slices before they go back to the booth. Robin is particular about not eating around the equipment, and Steve has long given up on fighting her.

Their jobs are pretty easy, in all honesty. The light cues are pre-written, and sound check was an hour ago. All Steve needs to do is hit the cues, and all Robin needs to do is adjust mic levels and turn them on and off as needed.

This leaves plenty of room for a healthy amount of fucking around.

As Robin, always on his right side, starts telling him a story about her friend’s ex’s (who is also her friend, because lesbians are just like that) latest date, Steve watches the crowd file in and nods along.

His mind, however, goes back to that guy. Someone always says something, and it’s always someone new to touring. Steve can just tell. All the rookies do the same thing; they look at the stage with wonder in their eyes. This guy was no different. Just some rookie giving Steve a problem, like always.

Except that this guy was different.

Rookies tended to want to prove themselves. They wanted to show off their fancy knowledge and make it clear that they belonged there along with everyone else who had a career. They wanted to catch Steve off guard, make him thank them for helping him out.

This guy didn’t do that. He was nosy and pushy and pretty and rambled a lot, but he wasn’t trying to be a dick. He was trying to look out for Steve, even if it was none of his business, even if he didn’t know him.

He ended up being a bit dickish, but he wasn’t trying to be. If Steve were a nicer person, he’d think that might count for something.

Steve is trying to be a nicer person, with emphasis on trying.

His watch vibrates, jolting him back to the moment. He lowers the lights, cueing the openers to go on.

The set list, along with Steve’s cues, is in in a binder between him and Robin, lit by a book light with a battery that’ll die at least twice, with their luck.

The first opener is a band Steve has never heard of called “Corroded Coffin.” If they’re any good, he might listen to their music.

Big emphasis on might because he’s not a big fan of metal. Punk has better bass lines, one that Steve likes to feel in his chest.

He hits the cue when they start their opening song, lighting them in reds and purples and-

Oh. Shit.

That guy wasn’t a roadie. He’s part of the opening band. He’s a guitarist.

A really good guitarist.

A really hot guitarist.

Steve is so caught up in stating that he nearly misses the next cue. He doesn’t, though. He’s a professional.

Robin elbows him, and he turns to see her signing. For one hopeful moment, he thinks she’s signing “hungry” and will offer to get them both more of that really good pizza like the wonderful friend she is.

But then she repeats the sign, again and again, and Steve smacks her before hitting the next cue.

“I am not horny!” he whispers, clearly loud enough for Robin to hear through her earplugs because she laughs.

You think he’s hot, she signs.

Steve rolls his eyes.

I’m right! she teases.

Steve faces away from her for the two seconds it takes for her to tug him back.

“Not fair,” she says, and Steve only gets it because it’s light enough to read her lips.

The band has gone through two songs, and the lead singer, a tall Black guy, is saying something to the crowd. Steve hears it just fine with all the mics, but understanding is too much of a struggle to bother.

He doesn’t really care anyway. He likes feeling the music and hearing it with what he has left (his audiologist said it won’t accelerate his hearing loss, so any hearing protection is a waste of money), not listening to whatever the bands have to talk about.

Anything important? he asks Robin.

She shakes her head.

Steve turns back to the stage in time to hit the next cue, casting the band in blue as the guitarist starts playing a really low intro.

Did you hear his name earlier? Steve asks.

Robin says something, but it gets lost in the music and the dim light.

“Hettie?” Steve asks aloud.

Robin shakes her head. Sorry.

She finger spells, messing up once and throwing it out with a wave of her hands.

“Eddie?”

She nods.

Steve hits the next cue and uses the rest of the time to appreciate the view. Eddie really is hot, in his dark jeans and tattered tank top, grin on his face and quick-moving fingers. And Steve has never had a chance to talk to the talent, even if they’re nosy.

But Eddie was nosy because he was worried. It would almost be sweet if it wasn’t so condescending.

He didn’t mean for it to be, the terrible little rational part of Steve’s brain pipes up. And he apologized. Multiple times.

The bigger part of his brain reminds him that it doesn’t matter what Eddie meant it as. Steve effectively tanked any hope when he snapped at him before the show.

Oh God.

He has to do a whole tour with this guy. Who he was a total dick to.

Yikes. At least he has Robin, who is-

Currently staring at him and signing “horny.”

Steve smacks her again, which she laughs at and returns instantly before they focus back on their jobs. They’re professionals, goddammit.

Professionals who are already on less than stellar terms with one of the openers.

He’s so not looking forward to the next few weeks.

Tag list (this is not a regular thing for me but it was manageable this time!): @just-a-tiny-void @weirdandabsurd42 @satan-is-obsessed @honeysucklesinger @coyotepup345 @gayafmermaid @thegingerrapunzel

[samkerrworshipper]

exhausted | barca femeni/alexia putellas x reader

reader has insomnia… but doesn’t tell her teammates alexia begins to figure it out though

was gonna make yall wait till tomorrow butttt i rlly can’t fucked lol

Sleep is something that has never come easy to you.

No matter how hard you try, no matter how much melatonin or herbal teas or meditation you tried, none of it worked.

You, quite simply, could not sleep.

It was fine when you were just a student, when you could dip out of your morning classes or sneak in a nap here and there between classes, when you didn’t have to make it through full days of work.

It was fine when you were playing for London City, when nobody cared about what you were doing, only if you could stop other players from getting past.

It had all changed though when the Barca offer had come in though.

It was known to every single footballer in the women's league that Barca had major injury problems, specifically in their backline, injuries that wouldn’t be resolved until long after the season was over.

You’d never thought though that some absences in Barcelona’s star squad would crate an opportunity for you, but for whatever reason, the Barca selectors had seen something in you, and even though it was mid season, had been desperate to sign you, it was a big move to go from England to Spain, but one you were more than happy to make for the sake of your career.

You’d never thought that the move from home would be so much more detrimental to your sleep schedule, but slowly you’d found yourself becoming more exhausted as you struggled to keep up with your new life.

There were a lot of things that were different about Spain, or more specifically the Barcelona Women’s team. When you were playing in London, training every couple of days and playing once a week, you could afford to miss some hours of sleep during the night, especially considering that nobody in London was concerned about making school a priority over there. You could take some naps during the day, laze around as much as you wanted and go to school whenever you could be bothered.

Barca was different, and not in a good way.

It was good for your football, internationally and just in general. Before Barca, you’d been more of a bench player then a starter for the England under 17s, but your game had lifted and you’d been a consistent starter in every tournament and friendly since.

You were exhausted, more than you’d ever been in your entire life, and you were sure it was starting to show.

It was hard enough being 16, in a foreign country, getting hardly any hours of sleep, training at least three hours a day as well as gym sessions and playing twice a week. Trying to be a full time student as well, it was completely unrealistic and it was starting to show.

“Nena, do you want to slow down on the energy drinks? Someone so itty bitty and young like you shouldn’t be consuming any caffeine, let alone two red bulls before noon, we’re lucky you aren’t pinging off the walls yet.”

Mapi’s hands are on your cheeks, pinching and squeezing them as if you are a baby. Instead of paying her any kind of attention you keep your eyes fixed on your laptop screen and lips pressed to the can of red bull that you’ve been tirelessly sipping at for the past couple of minutes.

Integrating into the team had been hard, but you’d actually become far closer with the crew of injured girls, mapi specifically, as well as her girlfriend Ingrid. Frido had also been one of the first people to welcome you, accompanied by two familiar English faces, Keira and Lucy.

Mapi particularly, had taken you under her wing, or had sort of adopted you in an older sister type fashion. It was sort of annoying, the older Spaniard was constantly talking, to the point where you’d learn to pretty much drown out everything that left her lips.

“If you keep touching my face then it won’t just be your knee that’ll be injured, your hands will be broken as well.”

Mapi frowns at you, her pinching fingers moving to brush loose hair from your face and rub at your temples, trying to rub away the frown lines deeply ingrained on your forehead.

“Wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning did we, nena? You know you’ll get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that, it’s not good for your little baby face.”

You shake your head in an attempt to get Mapi’s hands off of your face, it partially works, but not fully.

“María I am serious, you’ve got three seconds before I tear this can in half and use it to cut off your fingers, don’t you have rehab to do or something more entertaining than bothering me?”

Mapi’s hands fly up in surrender, something you are infinitely grateful for.

“Fine, you want to be grumpy then you can be grumpy by yourself, don’t come looking for me later when you’re bored of school and looking for some fun.”

You don’t bat an eyelid as Mapi retreats from your table.

You take another sip of your drink, praying that it’ll somehow make it easier for you to read the words on your laptop screen, even though it does absolutely nothing.

You’ve read the same page, over and over again and yet it’s done absolutely nothing to make you understand what it is you are supposed to be learning. It’s a mess of consonants and verbs, jumbled up words that just can’t seem to resonate in your brain.

Whilst Mapi has left, unbeknownst to you, you aren’t completely alone in the recovery room.

Alexia has been sitting on one of the massage tables, doing her exercises for the last hour, watching as you’ve gradually been getting far more frustrated with your work.

Alexia’s relationship with you so far has been… rocky.

The captain had made it clear from day one that whilst the club needed you, that your studies were going to be a priority alongside football. If you had known that you’d be going from doing as much school as you liked, to hours of online school everyday, you probably would have reconsidered your move to Spain, but you were here now and struggling more than you cared to admit.

Alexia knew something was up, beyond your clear hatred for school, she just wasn’t sure what yet but she was determined to find out why.

“Everything alright pequena?”

You practically jump at the sound of Alexia’s voice, hand clutching at your heart as you suddenly become aware of a presence in the room that you were unaware existed.

“Perfectly fine.”

You do well to recover from the shock, your eyes darting straight back to your screen almost as quickly as they had left it.

“You’ve been staring at the same page for the last twenty minutes.”

Alexia notices that your hands are shaking slightly, most likely due to the insane amounts of taurine that your body is processing.

“There’s a lot of writing on one page.”

You take another sip, finishing off the can and sliding it across the table.

“Mapi’s right, it’s not good for pequena’s like you to be drinking stuff like that, it’s bad for your brain cells, and don’t get me started on what it does to your body.”

Alexia moves to take a seat beside you at the table, her concern for you growing even more when she took a look at your face and realised how exhausted you looked.

“I don’t need the lecture, I’m poisoning my body, I’m aware of it, now can I please have slime peace so I can finish this off before training starts?”

Alexia isn’t anywhere near satisfied with your answer, she wants you to argue with her, not admit your wrongdoing like it’s nothing.

“Yes, you are, you aren’t an adult, you don’t need energy drinks, you will do perfectly fine without them.”

Your eyes leave the screen to look at Alexia for a second, a little exhale huffing out between your lips.

“Okay, whatever.”

Alexia can’t get past just how tired you look, so tired that you’re seemingly agreeing with her just to avoid conflict.

“Pequena, how about you take a break for a couple of minutes, go get some fresh air, I’m sure you can finish this up later.”

Alexia’s never let you finish school early, you don’t understand why she’s deciding to today.

“I need to get it done.”

Your body is so tense, Alexia’s scared that you’re going to pull a muscle just from how tight your body looks.

“I’m sure it can wait till later, you’ve been sitting here for two hours now, you need a break.”

Your hands are still shaking, and you’re as hunched over as possible without being asleep on top of your laptop.

“Alexia, I’m fine, I’ve just got to finish this and then I’ll be done.”

Alexia’s hand reaches up to meet your shaking one, somehow hoping that it’ll stop the frantic tremors.

“You’re taking a break, just go and spend some time in the team room, or go for a walk, just take fifteen minutes and I’ll next you when you need to be back. Go, now, I’m not asking.”

You slam your laptop closed with more aggression then Alexia’s seen from you all morning, your body dragging itself out of the room without any regards for your captain whatsoever.

Alexia begins to get worried when twenty minutes later, after multiple text messages, you are yet to return.

She knows you’re stressed, that school isn’t what you want to be focusing all of your energy on. But Alexia knows from personal experience how easy it is for somebody of your age with your kind of talent to disregard things like education, something that she believes is so crucial to any adult's life. You need options, Alexia is trying to give you them, even if you seem to hate them with every single fibre in your body.

Alexia decides to go looking for you once twenty five minutes have passed and you are nowhere in sight and have ignored every single one of her messages.

It doesn’t take her long to find you, although she does almost miss you.

Alexia peeks her head into the locker room, simply to ask if anyone has seen you, the room is silent and empty though.

She almost leaves, but just as she’s about to close the door, she spots your body, tucked up inside of your locker, your head tucked into your knees.

You look frightfully unrestful, you don’t look like most people look when they’re sleeping, most people look peaceful, you look bothered, like your body is fighting against the sleep that you so clearly need.

Alexia walks over to you, now more than ever she’s certain you’re sick, that you’ve caught some kind of cold that’s causing this exhaustion and the short tempered mood you’ve been in.

She brings the back of her palm up to your forehead, an action that has your eyes snapping opening immediately.

Alexia’s sort of surprised when she realises you’ve got no fever whatsoever, although she’s well aware that not all sicknesses result in fever, something about it is putting her off.

“Hola pequenita.”

It takes you a few seconds to realise where you are and what’s happening, but as soon as you do you are shaking Alexia’s hand from your face and pushing yourself out of your cube.

“Sorry, time completely slipped past me, I’ll head back now.”

Alexia’s hand grabs your forehand before you have the opportunity to slip past her, tugging you backwards until you’re standing directly in front of your captain, forced to look at her.

“Are you sick?”

Alexia isn’t sure what’s wrong, but it’s clear something is up and sickness is the clearest option. She knows that you are no stranger to energy drinks, she spends most of her time heckling at you to try and put down whatever drink you’ve got in your hands. She’s never seen you down two in such a short amount of time though and sickness would be a good explanation.

“No, I’m fine.”

Alexia can’t find any deceit in your words or mannerisms, it appears that you are being completely honest with her, something that makes Alexia even more confused. None of the tell-tale signs are there, you are telling the truth.

“I know you aren’t a stranger to a midday nap, but it’s unlike you to be so tired.”

Alexia’s arm moves from your forearm up to your face, gently tracing the deep purple bags that are sitting below your eyes. Her thumb is soft, it feels like she’s mending all of the fatigue that lies there, but as soon as her thumb moves it all comes back.

“I’m fine Capí, just stayed up a little bit later last night.”

Alexia can tell that’s a lie, a cover up from whatever it is that you’re hiding from her.

“Well see to it that you get into bed earlier tonight. The team is out on the pitch, I told Jona that you’d join them once finished up with your work that you’d head out but I think you need some fresh air. Better get moving.”

Alexia’s voice is ridged and your body reacts to it, reaching into your locker with more speed then she’s seen you work with all day, you grab your cleats and before Alexia has the chance to speak anymore you are marching out of the rooms and out towards the pitch.

It’s perplexing to Alexia, she hates being lied to, especially when it’s clear something is wrong. She waits in the locker room for a few minutes, trying to piece together the mystery yet she comes up with nothing.

Eventually she makes the decision to go out and watch the training, pitchside, maybe you’ll have perked up now that you’re out doing something you enjoy.

The first thing Alexia notices is how frantically you are playing, it’s unlike you to be sloppy and yet as she watches you it’s all she can observe.

You are sloppy, messy and uncalculated, something that you are normally the opposite of.

You are a technical player, something that has helped you settle into the Barcelona squad with ease, you adjusted to the Spanish way of playing without much fuss.

What Alexia is watching though, you look like a completely different player. You’re practically passing the ball directly to Salma, goal after goal being put through your legs and around your body. It’s embarrassing, and she’s certain other people are picking up on your abnormal behaviour, multiple people, specifically Ingrid coming to check on you and make sure everything is fine.

You shake all of them off, even though it’s clear that something is up and whatever that something is, it’s big and it’s affecting your game and mood majorly.

Alexia’s not surprised when Jona drags you from the field, already yelling at you and sending orders your way, what she is surprised by is the way that you don’t even flinch as he throws never ending criticism your way.

You just stare at him, neither nodding or trying to reply to him, Alexia’s not even sure if you’re hearing him, if you’re present enough to be listening to the words that are leaving his mouth. For a second she considers the possibility that you’re violently hungover or acting under the influence of some kind of substance, it would explain the drowsiness and weird behaviour.

The idea makes Alexia instantly filled with anger, you are 16 and she will take you to the grave if you’ve been touching any kinds of substances. She’s mad enough as it is over the energy drinks, and she’s going to express that when the two of you are in private later on, but the chance that you’ve consumed something illegal for someone of your age, it sends shivers down her spine.

Jona has you back out on the field before you can even begin to respond to his critiques, back into defence where you are brutally humbled time and time again by the likes of Aitana, Salma and Caro.

Alexia cringes every single time, she knows that you are struggling, what she’s completely unprepared for is for you to fully collapse on the field.

Caro volleys another ball over your head and for a second Alexia doesn’t even notice you crumpled up on the ground of the pitch, she’s too busy watching the sight of Caro’s ball perfectly managing to slot in behind Cata. It’s a truly beautiful goal, and truly there isn’t much you could have done about it.

She only notices you when Cata doesn’t turn around to grab the ball, instead, she rushes forwards, leaving the ball long forgotten beside the bottom right post. She’s rushing forwards, down to her knees, directly beside your crumpled up body.

Alexia jumps up from her spot immediately, running faster than she should considering the current state of her knee, it doesn’t matter to her though, seeing your tiny little body all clumped up against the grass terrifies her.

Cata’s smart, and apparently fast acting because before Alexia is sitting down next to you, Cata’s already got her shirt off, drenched it with her drink bottle and has it folded up over your forehead. The cold water seems to bring you back a little bit, your head jerking upwards in reaction to the sudden change of temperature across your skin.

Just as Alexia’s crouching down next to you, the medics are pushing everyone out of the way, kneeling down next to you and doing the same as Cata had done, placing wet towels across your skin. They’re treating it like you’ve got heat stroke and whilst Alexia is aware it’s a warmer day, she knows that whatever is wrong with you, it most definitely isn’t heat stroke.

One of the medics squirts some water onto your face, something that Alexia doesn’t like the look of, but it seems to bring you back awake, your eyes bursting open and blinking furiously as you take in your surroundings.

Alexia can see you panicking immediately, your eyes flashing to the multiple faces that are crowding your vision.

“Everyone take a step back, give her some space.”

The medics and your teammates take a step back, leaving Alexia to skoot herself closer to you. Her hand comes to rest on your face, gently brushing the water residue off.

“Hola nena, stay calm for me, you had a little fall, we’re going to get you inside now, do you think you can get up for me?”

You nod at Alexia, you can’t remember what happened but you don’t want to be on the floor any longer than you have to be.

Alexia helps you up and off the pitch, the medics leading the two of you inside.

Alexia immediately gets you situated on a table, the medics immediately getting their hands all over you.

“Test her heart for me please, and her caffeine and sugar levels. I’ll be right back nena, I’m just going to grab something from my locker, text me if you need anything.”

Alexia is inexplicably angry and she knows that if she spends any more time in a room with you she’s going to yell, or say something that she’s going to regret. If it wasn’t for all the doctors, she probably wouldn’t care but she doesn’t need to air out private situations in front of people who have no business in your private life.

So she stomps her way to the locker room, set on trying to detangle the mess of emotions that has developed deep in her gut ever since this morning.

It’s been longer than this morning, Alexia’s noticed oddities in your behaviour, ever since you’d arrived. The energy drinks, the constant eye bags, power naps whenever you could fit them in. You live by yourself, something that Alexia deeply disapproves of and after today she doesn’t think it should continue on like this. You’d requested your own apartment for two reasons, privacy and because you didn’t want to disturb the private life of your teammates.

Alexia wanted to punch a wall, or throw something. That was all that was running across her mind as she paced back and forth in the locker rooms.

All Alexia could think about was your body, crumpled up on the pitch and she had no idea why and no idea how to help you.

You were sitting in the medical room, by yourself, beside the many doctors and physios who were poking and attaching you to different things.

You were exhausted, you were finding it hard to keep your eyes open. You’d felt the same way all day, hitting the pitch had been too much, too hard, too much energy for your exhausted body.

You wished that you’d feel the same every night when you tried to go to sleep every night, but alas, it felt like as soon as you got into bed, or as soon as you tried to close your eyes sleep just avoided you.

Alexia was probably two laps of the locker room away from throwing her phone at a wall when Mapi walked in, weirded out by the sight of her best friend grinding her feet into the floor as she walked back and forth in the locker rooms.

“Ale?”

Alexia’s pacing doesn’t stop, but she does take a second to look up at María and for some reason the concernedly smiley face of her best friend seems to help the anger bubbling up inside her simmer down slightly.

“Alexia, what’s wrong?”

Alexia’s hands are fidgeting wildly in front of her, her fingers clicking and toying with each other.

“Somethings wrong with Nena, she’s exhausted and frantic and she looks like she hasn’t slept and she’s downing all those energy drinks and maybe they’re getting to her heart? Maybe that’s why she collapsed or maybe she’s sick but somethings wrong and I don’t know what and she collapsed right in front of my eyes.”

Normally, out of the two, Mapi is the one who confides in Alexia the most. Alexia isn’t an openly emotional person and when she is it’s with Olga, because for some reason that woman can get everything and anything out of her. Here though, it’s clear Alexia needs someone to de stress with and Mapi is happy to take up that role.

“It’s just her Alexia, she’s always tired and drinking energy drinks, it’s how the kids these days do it.”

Mapi’s words are supposed to soothe Alexia, honestly they do the complete opposite.

“But she shouldn’t, she’s an athlete, she shouldn’t need them. Mapi, I am telling you, something is seriously wrong, I can feel it. I know she’s always tired, but she looks like she hasn’s slept in weeks and I don’t know why.”

Mapi, for the sake of trying to calm Alexia down, decides that instead of trying to invalidate her worries, it’s best to just try and reason with Ale.

“Ale, how about we go see her, if somethings wrong I’m sure she’d tell us.”

Alexia nods at Mapi, taking the extended arm that her friend gives her and allowing the Zaragozan to lead her back to the physio room she’d previously been in.

When she returns, she’s relieved to see that you look a lot better than how you had on the pitch. There are still grass stains across your face, but you’re less pale than you were before and you’re sipping on a gatorade which somehow makes Alexia feel less guilty about the whole situation.

“Hola pequena.”

Your eyes manage to meet Alexia’s, something that kind of shocks her, considering just how weighed down your eyes seem to be by the deep purple bags underneath your eyes.

“Bon dia.”

Alexia would not call this a good morning, she couldn’t even call it an okay one.

“What’s wrong?”

Alexia’s focus is on the physios, not you, she’s saving you for later.

“Luckily, not a lot. I checked her heart and I couldn’t find any abnormalities, it’s clear that she’s tired, she’s told me she woke up a little bit earlier than normal this morning which paired with the warmer weather and some minor dehydration is probably the main cause. She’ll take today off, rest up, but I can’t find anything that would indicate any serious underlying problems so there isn’t any reason why I would say she couldn’t be back on the pitch tomorrow.”

It’s a positive sign, but not what Alexia wants to hear, she wants something to be wrong, so that she can get to the bottom of whatever is happening to you.

“Good, thank you, do you think you could give us the room for a couple of minutes, por favor?”

The physio smiles at Alexia, giving her a nod before leaving the room discreetly.

As soon as Alexia is certain he is no longer within hearing distance, she pivots on her heel, so she’s facing you directly.

“What are you hiding?”

It’s so ominous, even Mapi thinks it’s a little bit far-fetched, as a 16 year old, Mapi was probably hiding more than she was sharing, it’s not really a fair question.

“What am I hiding?”

It sounds like you're even struggling to get words out, your voice is just so tired, like it’s taking up so much energy for you to speak a few simple words.

“Somethings wrong, you’ve been drinking all these energy drinks, which are not only far too caffeinated but also extremely bad for you and you look like you haven’t slept properly in weeks.”

You want to tell Alexia that she’s right, you aren’t sleeping properly, you haven’t been your whole life, but she wouldn’t be the first person who tried to help you and has failed miserably in the process, it’s quite simple, sleep and you just simply do not work.

“Anyone from England would tell you that I just drink energy drinks, it’s not that deep Alexia.”

Mapi is teetering on the edge of having to hold Alexia back from causing you bodily harm.

“Deep? Collapsing on a pitch is not deep? It seems pretty deep to me amor, you can hardly talk, you could hardly read this morning, it’s clear something is wrong and I want to know what.”

You don’t know how to tell Alexia that something isn’t wrong, this is just you, or the new version of you in Spain. Your insomnia had always affected you, moving to Spain had seemed to make it worse but you’d always lived like this, ever since you could remember, sleep was just something that you could never have consistently.

“Nothings wrong, I am fine, I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

Alexia’s jaw sets and for a second Mapi does truly worry for you.

“I want you to not lie to my face.”

You visibly flinch at those words, you don’t want nor mean to lie to Alexia, but you figure you are saving yourself from a merry go round of painful conversations.

“I’m not lying.”

Alexia knows you are, she’s not stupid.

“Right, well you’ve got the day off, you’ll be coming home with me and staying with Olga and I until you look less like you are on the brink of a coma. María will go get your things.”

Mapi nods quickly at Alexia, walking out of the room as quickly as she can manage, leaving just you and Alexia.

Even though Alexia is mad, she begrudgingly helps you up from the bed, draping your arm over her shoulder to give you somebody to lean on as she walks the two of you out to her car. She’s just gotten you seated in the passenger seat and closed your door when Mapi pops up with your things. Before Alexia can hop into the car and get going, Mapi stops her.

“Be easy on her, si? She’s going through something and I know you want to know, I know you want to help her but whatever is wrong, she’s not talking about it for a reason. Maybe she doesn’t need you questioning her, just take a look, a proper look at her and see if you can get a better idea. For me?”

Alexia knows that Mapi won’t let go of her shirt without some kind of acknowledgement that she’s going to agree to her.

“Okay, I’ll go easy on her.”

It’s a half truth, Mapi seems to accept it though, letting go of Alexia’s shirt so that the Catalan can take her seat in her car and begin to drive the two of you home.

The car ride home is eerily silent, Alexia keeps her eyes focused on the road, her knuckles whitening from the grip she has on the steering wheel and her jaw so set that you begin to worry that her teeth must hurt from the constant clenching.

When the two of you pull up to Alexia’s house you’re feeling a lot better, your head is clearer and you don’t feel as broken as you had earlier.

You clamber out of the car, walking your way slowly to Alexia’s front door. Alexia bothers around with the keys, twisting them in the hole before opening up the door for the two of you.

“Ale? You’re home early.”

Olga’s voice filters in from the kitchen, the two of you making your way through until you spot her.

“Nena, is that you? I didn’t know we were going to have company, if I had I would have cleaned up a little bit for you.”

You shake your head at Olga, giving her a small smile that you’ve reserved just for Alexia’s partner.

“Go sit down on the couch, get your feet up.”

Alexia’s voice is stern, it immediately makes Olga frown at her.

Alexia allows her girlfriend to drag her from the kitchen and into their pantry.

“What’s with the mood?”

Olga’s happy space is her and Ale’s house, it’s supposed to be the one place that the both of them can get away from football and stress.

“Nena is hiding something, she collapsed at training and we don’t really know why but she does and she won’t tell us.”

Olga nods her head, the somehow younger but wiser woman putting on her thinking hat and trying to rationalise what Alexia is telling her.

“Don’t you think it would be smarter to try and be nice to her? I know that she’s fucked up, but it’s clear she just needs some love right now, maybe you should be giving it to her.”

Alexia thinks that Olga doesn’t understand the whole situation, she doesn’t see you everyday, doesn’t see how ragged you are and how deep this issue stems, but she also can’t not listen to her, the woman somehow tends to always be right and she can’t see why that would change now.

“Okay, okay.”

Olga smiles at her, getting up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to Alexia’s jaw before pushing her out of the pantry and back into the kitchen.

Alexia is unsurprised to find you dead asleep on her couch, your head lulled against one of her couch pillows. She’s glad, and decides to pocket the inevitable conversation she is going to have to have with you, instead opting to help her girlfriend make lunch.

You sleep for a total of 40 minutes, something that Alexia is less glad about. As soon as she notices you’re awake she’s forcing a bottle of water into your hands and two aspirins. You take them before she shoves them down your throat, taking multiple gulps of the water so Alexia didn’t have another reason to be mad with you.

To be fair, she looked a lot less mad than she had earlier, you wouldn’t even really describe how she looked as mad, more concerned.

Alexia sat down in front of you on the couch, taking a deep breath before she started speaking.

“I’m not going to force you to tell me anything, I understand that you are going through a lot, I just need you to know that I’m here for you, anything you need nena I am here to support you and try and help you however I think best.”

Alexia’s words cut deep for you, it’s a struggle for you not to break out in tears, as much as you really want to.

“I know Ale.”

She nods at you, holding back her own tears, there’s some kind of understanding between the two of you, that you aren’t going to cry or speak, just acknowledge each other for now.

“Olga’s made up the spare room for you, you’ll stay here until you’re in a better place. You’re welcome here and you’ll be no bother for the next couple of weeks.”

You nod your head, biting down on your tongue to stop yourself from arguing back to her.

The rest of the afternoon is fairly similar, you are fed by Olga and then spend the majority of the rest of the day lounging on the couch, occasionally falling asleep, but as Alexia notices, never for longer than 40 minutes. It’s like your body refuses to properly rest.

When dinner comes around you look just as exhausted as you had this morning, you just look a little bit less dead.

After dinner, you head off to bed, alexia’s glad, she’s hoping that you’ll have a nice long proper sleep and that all of this will be solved.

She’s wrong.

Instead of hopping into bed, you pull out your laptop, knowing that if you stand a chance at getting even two hours of sleep it’s not happening any time soon.

You work at your school work, completing the things you hadn’t finished earlier. When 12 o’clock rolls around, you force yourself away from your laptop and underneath the covers of alexia’s extremely comfortable spare bed.

You stare at the roof, every now and again you’ll twitch and for some reason it’ll hurt your brain. You play your favourite song over and over again in your head, praying that it’ll somehow lull you to sleep, it neves does. You stare at the ceiling and try to focus on the sound of the fan. You stare at the ceiling and wonder if the swirl pattern in it is mobing. You think about your favourite film and how the characters used to provide you so much peace. When you remember how much they meant to you, you let a few stray tears fall.

You stare at the ceiling.

Every once and a while, you’ll roll over and press your face into the pillows and pull the covers over your head and hope that if you hide somehow you’ll fall asleep.

Eventually, you’ll fall asleep.

Sometimes it takes hours, all for you to wake up half an hour later feeling as unsatisfied as ever.

It’s how you live, it’s the same routine every night, it’s your normal.

When 4am rolls around and you’ve managed to get a measly twenty minutes or so of sleep, you climb out of the sheets, annoyed that your glass of water is empty. Your eyes are dry and itchy with the feeling of needing to cry, you push that feeling deep into your gut, ignoring the desperate need to ignore your feelings in favour of keeping a strong face.

You try to be as quiet as possible, filling up your glass and taking a seat on Alexia’s couch, looking out of the window of her lounge room at the Barcelona skyline that lights up along her back fence.

“Nena is that you?”

You nearly jump out of your skin.

Alexia is standing in the kitchen, leaning up against the island, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and staring at you inquisitively.

“What are you doing awake?”

The words trigger something in you, it’s probably the half dazed state you’re in, the complete exhaustion and annoyance you’re experiencing at your inability to sleep, but all of a sudden, tears are dripping your face and you don’t know why or how.

Alexia freezes for a second, she’d expected something obviously, but crying was not one of those things.

She’s never seen you cry, she’s never had to deal with a teenager who is breaking down right in front of her eyes. She doesn’t know what to do, or how to help you, all she knows is that you are crying a lot and she is just standing and watching.

The problem solver in Alexia tells her that she has to do something, so she paces her way over to the couch, sitting down beside you and tentatively wrapping an arm around your shoulder. She doesn’t know whether or not it’s the right way to go, but it seems to pay off when you immediately relax into her, your head craning into the pocket of her neck and shoulder. Fresh, warm tears drip down onto Alexia’s skin.

Alexia is tense, her back as straight as a board. She doesn’t normally have to deal with this kind of thing, she doesn’t have to try and sympathise with feelings. She’s not an emotional person herself, she cries once a year normally and that’s on the anniversary of her fathers death.

“Nena, it’s okay, I’m here.”

Alexia’s words are calculated, strategic, like she’s reading them off of google or something. Truly, she doesn’t intend for them to come off that way, but it’s kind of just how they do.

Alexia waits for the tears to stop coming, she figures it has to happen, you can’t just cry forever.

The two of you sit like that, crisscrossed on the couch until you manage to compose yourself, until you’ve cried out all the annoyance and grievances over your current predicament.

In the past, your insomnia would stop you from sleeping for days, but eventually the exhaustion would catch up with you and you would get a good night or a few of sleep, but it had been weeks now of you living in Barcelona and sleep had been avoiding you the whole time.

“Nena, what’s wrong?”

Right now, it feels like everything is wrong, it feels like your whole world is upside and you want it to be normal, you want to just be able to close your eyes and get some fucking sleep.

“I can’t sleep.”

Alexia’s brow furrows.

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have had so many energy drinks, no?”

It’s the kind of reply you should have expected.

“No Alexia, I can’t sleep, I have insomnia.”

Alexia struggles with the translation in her head, in-som-ni-a?

“Sorry, what?”

You take a deep shaky breath, pulling your head away from Alexia’s chest so that you can rub the tears from your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt.

“Insomnia, I can’t sleep, medically. I have a condition that stops me from being able to sleep regularly.”

Alexia’s head all of a sudden starts working, she’s a little bit behind, it’s 4am after all and she’s struggling to keep her eyes open.

“You can’t sleep?”

You shake your head, Alexia wants to tell you that you’re being silly, but when she sees the pure heart break and exhaustion in your eyes she knows that you can’t be lying. You look so young, tear tracks all over your face and body caved in on itself.

“I can’t sleep.”

It makes more sense to alexia now, all the energy drinks, the exhaustion, the power naps.

“Have you talked to the team doctors about it, I’m sure they could give you medication or something that could make it better, this can’t go on forever, nena.”

You shake your head at Alexia, your exhaustion turning to fear.

“No and you have to promise you won’t either. I’ve been through it, the sleep tests, all of it. I won’t take drugs, you can't make me and I refuse to.”

It’s like you go from being a mellowed out version of yourself to an attack dog.

“Nena, you need help, you can’t keep playing when you can hardly keep yourself standing.”

You shake your head, so fast that Alexia worries you might pass out from the sudden and frequent movements.

“I’m not taking drugs, you can’t make me, I won’t do it.”

Alexia doesn’t know where this sudden defensiveness has come from, but she knows two things. She needs to make sure that you understand that she can be there for whatever you are going through whilst also trying to figure out what is your random refusal to not take medication.

“Wouldn’t it help some?”

It’s hard to explain your complete hatred for any kinds of drugs. You’d grown up in a household where your mom might as well have been a druggie with how little she was invested in your life and where your dad was a legitimate druggie.

You struggled to take paracetamol, let alone any kind of prescribed drug.

You were scared shitless that somehow, you would turn out like your father and that was the last thing you could ever want.

You didn’t come from a loving home, you didn’t come from a place where you got the newest cleats every year and the best training. You came from a home where grocery money was spent on cocaine and any football money was spent on heroin. You’d been lucky enough that you were good enough for England teams to notice you, for academies to notice you. You were always good enough that you didn’t have to fork out the extra money and if you did it was your own money.

That’s why you’d been so eager to get out of England, to come to Spain. It saved you from the lifestyle that you had been so desperate to get away from.

“I’m not going to take medication Ale.”

For a long time, you’d blamed the insomnia on the constant partying that happened at your house as a kid. Your dad was a revolving door house kind of person, there were always people inside of your house, women, druggies, sex workers, partiers. It was never ending, and for a logn while you’d just thought you couldn’t sleep because of the constant noise inside of your house. When you went away for your first camp at 11, you realised that just simply wasn’t it, you had a serious problem. Maybe it was a byproduct of always being in a house full of noise, or maybe it was just your fucked up ness, you just knew that somewhere along the way, everything in your brain started working backwards.

“Nena, you don’t have to take medication, but can you tell me why?”

You figure that you’ve already told Alexia too much, why stop now?

“My dad has drug problems, always has, probably always will. My mom was never really home as a kid, when she was it wasn’t pretty. I don’t want to turn out like them. That’s why I didn’t go home over the break”

Alexia’s heart drops. She’s been through her own problems with her family, her fathers death and so on. But she’s always had something and that is a safe place to go if she ever needs it. Her parents loved her, they did everything to protect her as a child, Alexia grew up in a space where she could be whoever she wanted and her parents would support her. You, to some extent, clearly didn’t and it explained a lot to her. It explained why you were so hesitant to accept help from anyone, and why you were such a lone wolf, you had to be for survival.

Alexia suddenly wraps her arms around you, all of a sudden feeling an overwhelming sense that she has to protect you, that you need her to keep you safe.

You’re crying again, it hurts less this time, it comes more from a place of exhaustion than annoyance and anger.

“I just want to rest Ale, I just want some peace.”

Alexia’s grip tightens, she’s compressing your bones in the best way possible.

“It’s okay nena, I’ve got you, it’s going to be okay.”

Alexia just holds you, until you exhaust yourself so much from the crying that you fall asleep.

She doesn’t want to wake you, not after everything you’ve just confessed to her, so she lays herself down on the couch, keeping you pulled tight to her chest as she drapes a blanket over the two of you and rests down against the pillows, deciding that she might as well get a few hours in for herself.

You wake up to the sun in your eyes and the smell of bacon and pancakes.

You feel better than you have in weeks, blinking the sleep away from your eyes and slowly sitting up as you adjust to your surroundings.

Alexia and Olga are in the kitchen, talking hushedly as Alexia cooks over the stove and Olga rocks with her from behind. It feels and looks intimate and you are so tempted to sneak out of the front door to leave them to their peace and avoid all the obvious issues that are going to have to be unpacked with your captain.

You’re seriously considering, but your plotting is stopped when Olga turns around to grab something and she spots you on the couch, conscious and awake.

“Bon Dia, nena.”

Alexia pivots as well, sending a smile towards you.

“Good morning, what time is it?”

Olga detaches herself from Alexia, moving towards the fridge.

“It’s just past six.”

2 and a half hours of sleep, that’s not bad at all, it’s better than you’ve had in weeks.

“Breakfast is almost done, if you want to take a seat at the table.”

You nod at Alexia, standing up from your spot on the couch and walking over to the dining table, taking a seat at the table and trying to tame your bed head whilst Alexia plates up the food.

The plate she hands you is full of food, bacon, toast, pancakes, sausages, fruit. It reminds you of home in a weird way, it’s not a truly traditional Spanish breakfast, more English and it seems like Ale’s done it for a reason.

She waits until you’ve started to tuck into your food before she starts speaking.

“I’ve scheduled a meeting with Jona and the medical team this morning, for you.”

Your boyd goes from relaxed and at peace to tense, Alexia knows it’s breaking your trust in a way, but she also knows that she’s now obligated to protect you.

“I told you I don't want doctors or drugs.”

Alexia takes a deep breath, looking over at Olga and being reminded that sometimes she has to do hard things.

“I know nena, and i’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to, I don’t think I could if I tried, but this can’t keep going. I did some research, there are some really good drugs for people that struggle like you, that aren’t addictive and can help lots. I’m not a doctor and neither are you. We don’t know about these things, it’s not our job, but there are people who do know about this stuff and they can try to help you, really help you. You can’t live like this, it’s not sustainable in any way, we need to find some way to fix this. Whether it’s therapy or medication or resting, you need something and you can’t provide it yourself.”

Alexia words are a punch to the gut, but they also make sense, she knows what she’s talking about.

“You promise that I won’t have to do anything I don’t want to?”

Alexia nods her head, she’s shocked that you’re already sort of agreeing with her.

“I promise nena, I just want to help you somehow, however that may be.”

You take a big bite of your food, and a gulp of the orange juice that Olga has set down next to you.

“I slept better than I have in months last night, because of you, I don’t know how or why but something you did made me sleep and if you think that I need help, then I can’t really argue with that. It needs to be on my own terms though.”

Alexia nods, this is so hard for you, accepting help, accepting that you have a problem that needs fixing.

“Of course nena.”

You nod, drawing all of your thoughts together.

“I think I need help Ale, I want help.”

[skteezcursed]

❝0258❞ — j.yh.

PAIRING. ex!jeong yunho x fem!reader.

GENDER AND WARNINGS.smut. slight toxic behavior. dom!yunho. switch leaning sub!reader. possessiveness. alcohol consumption. yunho is borderline toxic (i apologize). fingering. orgasm denial. creampie. p in v. hair pulling. unprotected sex (please, do NOT). lmk if i forgot anything.

SYNOPSIS. yunho doesn’t like to share, he never did, especially not you. it doesn’t matter you two broke up, you are still his, so when he sees you flirting with other guys in a frat party (that you weren’t the biggest fan of), something builds inside of him and he just needs to make it clear that you belong to him, and him alone.

RATING. R (+18) - MDNI.

WORD COUNT. 4k.

NOTES. english is not my first language. part of the ateezchella especial and of the atz house event you can't out rage us. thanks to @juyofans and @yunhoszn for the costume idea, thanks @bro-atz for the plot idea, thanks coachella for the cowboy yunho with the rings, thanks for his parents for not having used protection or prevented their son from being born, because this man wrecked me completely. bye ♡.

IMPORTANT. this is a work of fiction, it has zero intent on portraying how any of the people quoted here are in real life.

CREDS. dividers by cafekitsune ♡

  He knew he would probably find you here. He knew you liked to party from time to time and how your friends would always lure you into one or another, even when you two were together. And in all honesty, he was okay with that, except for the fact you were at a frat party less than a month after you two broke up. Wearing a fucking chromed dress that barely covers your ass, the metallic make up just making you stand our more and he never hated a futuristic themed party more than he did now.

  As if that wasn’t enough, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you ever since they found you with your friends on the corner, dancing and smiling all the way. His eyes lingering at your outfit, wishing you at least had shorts underneath your dress. Only if he was allowed to touch you, only if he was allowed to see under that dress.

  “Well, this is becoming an embarrassment,” Jongho’s voice quickly found Yunho as he watched the youngest of his frat drown the last of his drink before indicating you on the other side of the room. “Weren’t you the one that broke up?”

  “So?” 

  Yunho tried his best to not make his eyes wander to you, or to acknowledge the amount of guys that were eyeing you, surrounding you, just waiting for an opportunity to -

“So, why do you care so much if another guy comes along? Aren’t they single afterall?”

If Yunho could punch Jongho at that moment we would, but he chose better, just turning the beer down his throat before meeting you again. A group of guys from another frat had gotten closer to your group. Yunho knew them, so maybe he -

  “He’s simping again, isn’t he?” Yunho just scoffed at Yeosang’s remark, feeling Mingi joining the others, a hand draped around Yunho’s shoulder. “If you can’t keep your eyes away from them, why did you break up in the first place?”

“Because (y/n) was saying that a lot of girls were trying to get with him and he wasn’t pushing them away, so -”

“Why would I give them the time of day when I had her? It was like she didn’t trust me, that’s why we broke up!”

“So, that has nothing to do with the fact that you started to notice how guys were always around them and accused them of cheating?” The other boys shook their heads as Yunho bit his inner cheek at Mingi’s remark. “So you didn’t trust her, and decided to break up, but now, you can’t keep your eyes off of them in that pretty little tiny dress that -”

“Mingi,” it was a warning, making the other tall one chuckle, raising his hands with a smirk. “You guys are fucking -”

“Oh, looks like she moved on from you, dude.”

  At that, his head snapped your direction, and he found Juyeon, from TBZ frat rather close with you, his hands on your back and you were fucking smiling at him, your flirty smile, the smile that made Yunho want you pin you down on the closest surface and fuck you senseless just to take that fucking smile off your lips.

  “And off he goes!”

Yunho could still hear all three guys behind him as he took the first steps in your direction. There was no way you’d go with Juyeon, no you were Yunho’s and no one else's, but as he got closer, he noticed one of your friends caught your attention, making you put some distance – which should be bigger – between you and Juyeon. As you turned to say something, your face got closer to his as Yunho noticed how the guy’s arm wrapped around your waist pulling you closer. He had half moons marking his palm as the custom rings Hongjoong had made for him dig into the skin.

  As you pulled away, your eyes met with his, making you stop almost instantly, only moving because your friend pulled you in. In all truth, you didn’t want to come to this party, you didn’t want to leave the house at all, ever since you and Yunho broke up, a lot of things crossed your mind as in the actual reason for that, as he came with a ‘I just think it's best if we go our separate ways, this isn’t working anymore’ and left at that, ignoring your calls and texts, until you gave up after almost a week. 

  If it weren’t for Alexa, you probably weren't even gonna be at the NCT frat party, also, you thought that Yunho would have gone to the BTS frat last night and not show up at this one so you wouldn’t bump into him. As if that wasn’t enough, all you could think about was the face he gave you as Alexa guided you through the bodies of people. He was mad, he was fuming. Was he so annoyed you were there? Did he really hate you that much?

  “Just keep watch okay, I trust the boys, just not every guy in this forsaken party!”

She said as she closed the bathroom door making you touch your head against the wooden door sighing deeply. All you wanted in that moment was to leave that house, curl in bed and cry for everything that happened with Yunho. 

  “Why is my pretty girl sad?” You raised your head finding Haechan getting out of his room, curiously not accompanied by anyone. “Did anyone give you a hard time? Just let me know and me and the boys will -”

  “It’s fine,” you said quick but the sadness was still noticeable in your voice and eyes. “I just want some time alone, I… I just saw Yunho and -”

Haechan’s arms quickly wrapped around your figure as you held back your tears. It has been a month, you should have a grip on your emotions already. You hid your face on Haechan’s chest, apologizing for the amount of makeup that was smearing his shirt, but all he did was kiss you head, temple and cheek while rubbing your bare back, suddenly way more conscious of how open the back was.

“He’s the idiot to let go of you, maybe you should take this party to enjoy, yes?” You nodded slightly, your hand going to the back of his neck, fingers playing with the hair ends. “Mark sent a picture of you with Juyeon from TBZ frat, he’s a good guy, maybe you should try it out with him.”

“Thanks, I might, just need to get a grip,” you said, pulling away from Haechan cupping his face before leaving a small kiss on his cheek. “Go enjoy your party, I have to wait for Alexa to leave the bathroom anyways.”

  “Come meet me later, I can help you find some fun.”

  You chuckle and waved towards Haechan as you watched him go down the stairs, sighing loudly, cursing on your mind at how long Alexa was taking, getting a little worried at that. 

“Guess you moved on quickly, right pretty?” Your whole body became suddenly aware of how close he was, when did he arrive? Why was he here? “So, who is it gonna be? Juyeon or Haechan? Maybe both?”

  “What do you want, Yunho?” 

  “Can’t I ask about your whereabouts?”

“You lost that right when you broke up with me,” you turned to him, half of the reason why your face was flustered was for the alcohol and annoyance, but the other half was by his presence, if he knew that or not, it was still up to be discovered, “don’t you remember?”

“Oh, I remember well enough,” he towered over you, making you take small steps behind until your back was pressed against the bathroom door, the smile on Yunho’s lips when he noticed he got you cornered made you press your thighs together, “but that doesn’t mean I’m okay with others wanting what it’s mine.”

“I’m not yours for a while now.”

“Oh pretty, you’ll always be mine,” you can’t lie to yourself and pretend like you didn’t miss the possessiveness Yunho carried whenever you two were together. “Should I remind you?”

  “I’m not yours anymore, Yunho, you decided that.”

  “What if I decided that I don’t want you to be my ex anymore?”

  “Because you are jealous or because you actually mean it?” That was it, that was the moment you saw his eyes darken, the cover from the cowboy hat only helping with that. Your eyes lingered a little longer on his before falling to his lips, a small smirk appearing once you saw them forming a thin line. “Are you jealous that I might like Juyeon or Haechan more than you?”

  As his hands held you by the waist and hip, your breath hitched, but neither of you reacted to that, your body already telling him enough. The hand that was on your waist trailed towards your bare back and a gasp left your lips as the cool metal of his rings touched your exposed lower back, making him smile at that pulling you closer to him. Your hands quickly find the vest he was wearing, getting tangled with the necklaces. He was too close, his body fitting into yours as if it was made for it to happen. 

  You whined as you felt the sharpness of his ring against your skin, what kinda ring he was wearing you didn’t know, but you for sure didn’t want to see it or else, it was just another thing to occupy the ‘Jeong Yunho Folder’ on our mind. For a moment, you tried to react, but instead of pushing him away, your fingers held the vest tighter, making him chuckle as his face got closer to yours, the hat already touching your head as you could feel his breath mixing with yours. Way more stable than yours could ever be.

  “I think that’s something neither should be worried about, don’t you think, pretty?” Before anyone could answer, both heard the sounds coming from the bathroom, but Yunho was faster, turning both of you away and into Haechan’s room, the door closing the same second Alexa opened the bathroom door. You felt the cold metal of the rings on your lips as Yunho was paying attention to the sound on the other side. “Keep quiet pretty and I’ll reward you later, yeah?”

  You just nodded, feeling the pressing of the rings on your lips, one of the rings touching your throat making you raise your head slightly. Who had the fucked up idea to give Jeong Yunho those freaking ring sets? You cursed, closing your eyes, only to open them, becoming even more aware of your situation. Yunho pressing his body against yours, one of his hand on your waist, as his ringed finger touched your lips, one of his legs in between yours, all this while in Haechan’s fucking room.

  Alexa cursing and searching for you was barely on your mind as all of these were processed. How Yunho’s fingers tighten on your waist and he lowered his head leaving the air he was holding against your neck, making you shiver. A small whimper left your lips as his adorned fingers cupped your jaw pulling you to eye him. There was lust and anger in them, and you knew you shouldn’t crave him, but it was impossible not to when we looked like that, with his intense gaze on you as if nothing else existed, as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't broken up with you.

  “Why you here Yunho?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” The cool metal of the rings made your breath hitch as the tips scratched the back of your head, his thumb going over your lips before his eyes focused back on your own. “I’m here to claim what’s mine.”

  “We broke up and now you are jealous,” although you tried to sound sure, you both noticed your voice break, a small smile appearing on his lips. “I’m not yours anymore, Yuyu.”

  “Do you think they can make you feel like I do? That they know your body? Know what makes you tickle, what makes your cunt dripping wet?” His face bore on your neck and you felt the cowboy hat fall on the floor as you whimpered feeling his wet lips on your skin. “Do you think anyone can compare to us?”

  “Maybe you should have thought of that before you broke up with me, no?”

  “You accused me of cheating when you were the one doing it all along.”

  Your eyes turned to him, so that's why he broke up with you? Because he thought you cheated? “Who the fuck told you that? One of the girls from your dance class?”

  “I’m not blind, (y/n), I saw it with my own eyes how you’d led some of the guys on, with your damn perfect smile and -”

  “It’s called being polite, Yunho!” You tried pushing him, but he held you close, your attempt barely moving him out of place, making you sigh annoyed. “I never cheated on you, you lunatic, I’m fucking in love with you!”

  “Yet, you were out there flirting with Juyeon and Haechan.”

  You scoff, realizing he really was jealous. “So that’s what this is about! You are fucking jealous.”

  “I told you once before, pretty, no one touches what’s mine, and you are mine,” you tried to close your legs only to find Yunho’s thigh in between them, making him chuckle as his hand on your face went to your neck, no pressure, just pure dominance. “Well well well, apparently someone is feeling horny,” his lips brushed against yours as you tried to move your hips against his thigh to alleviate the pressure, only to get his fingers to secure your waist, unabling you to move. “Maybe I should remind you how well I know your body and how no one will ever be able to please you better than me.”

  In a swift move, he pulled your face to his, lips crashing as your hands finally left his vest, only to mess with his hair as the kiss deepened. You felt his hands wander south towards the valley of your thighs, only to hear him hum against your lips once he found the short shorts that you had under your dress. 

  “What?”

  “I’m torn between calling you a good girl for wearing shorts under this fucking dress and to punish you for using it all together.”

  Your breath hitched as his fingers put slight pressure against your clothed core and clit, throwing your head back and arching, trying to give him more room to work on your lower half, receiving a light chuckle from Yunho. “I was using the shorts because I had no intentions on getting with anyone tonight.”

  “Is this you asking me to call you a good girl, pretty?” You melted at his words getting a snarky comment in response. “If you were a good girl, you wouldn’t be here in the first place, now would you? Wouldn’t be dresses like that, wouldn’t be getting other guys attention, or –”

  “Please Yun–argh!” You bit your lip as you felt the pads of his unadorned fingers pressed a little harder against your clit. “Please, I’ll be good, please just touch me, I–I need your fingers, please.” 

  “Now, I need more than that pretty, I’m still not okay with what I saw earlier.”

  “I don’t want them,” your mind haywired for a moment before you could put your thoughts together, remembering how he had seen you with both Juyeon and Haechan earlier. “I want you, Yunho, please I only want you.”

  “That’s better.”

  Nimbly, his hands moved inside your shorts, his cool fingers meeting your heated core and the shock made you shiver a little as you felt his adorned fingers in the back of your head, holding you in place so he could see all the reactions your body had towards him. A satisfied smile danced on his lips as he pulled you in for a kiss before his middle finger entered your wet hole, making you moan against the kiss. In a slow, torturous way, he curled his finger while moving it in and out the best he could, the heel of his hand occasionally pressuring your clit as his lips never got tired of your own. 

  In a swift movement, he added his ring finger inside, curling them while putting pressure on your cit while his other hand put pressure on your neck, forcing your face up to kiss him as your legs were already way too weak to hold you in place, only making Yunho smirk as he started to pump him fingers in and out of you, watching your face twist in pleasure.

  “Who does this cunt belong to?” You couldn’t utter a coherent sound as his fingers nimbly worked their way to help you reach your high. His adorned fingers tighten around your neck making you whimper as your legs start to shake. “To whom does this fucking pussy belong to?”

  “To you,” the cry came as his fingers slowed down inside you enough to help you make a coherent phrase. Knowing Yunho was smirking at your words you manage to open your eyes just enough to find him mere centimeters away from you, the lust in his eyes helping with the build up in your stomach. “This pussy is all yours, Yunho.”

  “That’s it, pretty, now let’s make sure no one forgets it, yes?” You cried as his fingers left your wet folds, being denied the orgasm you so long waited, but as you watched him lick his wet fingers, you could’ve swore you could cum on sight. “Are you gonna be good for me pretty?” You mumble a small ‘yes’ as you watch him guide his fingers towards your mouth. “Suck it, let’s see if this helps you remind how good I make you feel, yeah?”

  As your lips parted, he pushed the two fingers inside, eyes darkening even more as he feels your tongue swirl around it, your lips firmly on the base of his fingers as your eyes never lost contact with his. At that, your hips started to move against his leg in between your thighs, making him chuckle but not stopping you for a second as he observes your wreck yourself using him. To watch you beg and ruin was one of the favorites views he had, so have you do this without him saying, was making him harder in his trousers. 

  His fingers quickly left your mouth as he pulled both yours legs up, making you wrap them around his waist as he guided you to Haechan’s bed. Your friend was totally gonna kill you if he found out, but in that moment, all you wanted was Jeong Fucking Yunho. He dropped you on the bed making you gasp before his hands grab your jaw making you eye him. His unadorned fingers quickly untied his belt and opened his tight pants as you held eye contact with him. Your fingers traveling over your thigh finding your clothed core, you could already feel the wet patch regardless of the panties and shorts that were forming a barrier. 

  “Please, Yuyu,” you begged as he watched your fingers travel to in between your legs.

  “Lose the shorts and panties,” he let go of your jaw and you did as you were told, knees finding the mattress as you finished taking you panties off, being thrown along with Yunho’s pants and vest on the side of the bed. “Now take this useless excuse of a dress,” your arms crossed in front of you, taking the dress away as you watched him unbutton his shirt, watching your naked body in front of you. “So fucking beautiful, so fucking mine.”

  “All yours,” your hands pulled him in for a kiss as the button down shirt met the rest of the pile, the only piece of fabric between you two being the fucking boxers, that you were quick to put your hand through, finding his hard heated leaking cock, making him moon against your lips. “I want your cock, Yun, please, let me have your cock.”

  “All fours, now.”

  As you turned around, he got rid of his boxers, pumping his dick using the pre cum, watching your glistening pussy welcome him. A low groan left his mouth as you wiggled your bottom to him, but instead of getting his cock, a harsh slap found your asscheek making you jolt and moan in pain, the chuckle Yunho gave being the only answer you were gonna have. Behave like a fucking brat, you get treated like a fucking slut. Not that you cared, but in that moment, you wanted his cock, and if you kept acting like that, you knew he wouldn’t dick you down until he got you crying in bed. 

  So, in response, all you did was lower your upper body into the mattress, face turned to the side as one of your hands went up your clit rubbing it eagerly, as he watched your every move. As he felt you had suffered enough, he took two steps towards the bed, his cockheading meeting your wet folds, making your fingers leave your clit as you knew what expected you. In a torturously slow, calculated movement, his cockhead entered you just enough to have you crying for more. 

  As you were about to plea to him again, he buried himself inside of you, holding your hips the same second he felt you jolt forward, holding you in place as he felt you adjust to his size, groaning as he felt you clench around his length while panting face in the bed. The only sign you gave him that it was okay to move, was your hips moving. The chuckle came the same second you felt him pull out almost completely before starting ramming inside of you in a swift motion, hitting your cervix with every single thrust, making you cry a little.

  One of your hands went to find his adorned fingers, as the unadorned ones got a hold of your hair, pulling your head back, as your hand held his adorned fingers in a tight grip. His erratic pace along with his breathing and his cock hitting all the right places, not helping you keep your sanity or a low volume. “Touch yourself for me, pretty, I want you creaming on my cock while I fill you up, can you do that, hun?” 

  Without a second to waste, your available hand reached your bundle of nerve, circle movements quickly taking over as you tried your best to keep a sane mind as you felt Yunho’s deep inside you, saying the filthiest things against your ear as he watched you coming undone with a cocky smirk. It didn’t take you long to come undone with a loud moan as you creamed around Yunho’s dick, as he kept ramming inside of you chasing his own high. 

  “Cum for me, Yuyu, make me yours for life.”

  With that he came inside of you, letting go of your hair, allowing your body to finally hit the mattress, but he kept holding your hips up as he pulled out of you, watching as part of his seed fell out of your hole before pushing it all back with his fingers, making your squirm at the overstimulated area. 

  “Keep it all inside pretty, once we get back to my frat I want to see it all still there if you have plans on going anywhere tomorrow.” You cried as he pulled his fingers away, cleaning them on your ass as he watched you clenched your used pussy, trying to keep all of his cum inside. “That’s my good girl,” he kissed your ass close to your cunt before turning to find all your clothes, quickly picking your panties and putting on your legs, before throwing you short shorts through the room, making you complain before eyeing you carefully. “You are mine, there’s no point in using that thing anymore, no one will get near what's mine and it will make it easier to see if you kept my cum inside of you or not without that piece of fabric you call shorts.”

general masterlist here ♡

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©skteezcursed (2024) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[aestheticaltcow]

Hi

I read some of your stuff and really liked it and I was wondering

If you could do like a carmy x English major fic?

Like maybe a book store opens somewhere near the bear and it’s Natalie’s babies first birthday and he figures that kids like books and stuffed animals and he’s been too busy to get anything for the party cuz he’s helping Natalie by catering so she doesn’t have to worry about it

So he goes in and he meets reader and she recommends him something (like stellaluna or where the wild things are, like a classic kids book that carmy has somehow never heard of)

But then he thinks she’s really cute so he just keeps finding excuses to go in and talk to her and she starts like regularly recommending him books and everyone’s like “when the fuck did he learn how to read?”

No pressure just thought I’d ask, tysm!

Written Romance

Carmy Berzatto x Reader

The Bear Masterlist

 “What do you even get a one-year-old?” Marcus queried as he looked down at the pastel-fruit-decorated birthday invitation. Michelle Witaske-Berzatto’s Berry's first birthday was this upcoming Sunday, and of course, the entire Bear staff was invited.

Carmy shrugged, “Last time I babysat, she played with a paper towel roll for 45 minutes.” he chuckled, remembering his niece squealing as she threw it in the air as much as her chubby little arms could. While he had become one of Natalie’s go-to babysitters, his apartment lacked baby-friendly activities. He’d busted out a couple of his old stuffed animals from Donna’s garage, and he had a couple of soft blankets for her to sit on, but aside from that- he was the awkward uncle who didn’t know what to talk about with a baby. He did like reading about French cuisine with her, but Sugar argued she preferred the story books Donna and their Nona used to read them when they were little. Carmy insisted she was actually a huge Julia Child fan, but his opinion was written off.

Carmy was taking out the trash when he noticed a new bookstore had opened a few storefronts down. He paused before throwing the bags in the dumpster; he’d have to check it out on his break.

~

It had been a slow day in the bookshop, granted days like this were nice since you were behind on homework. You were on a hot streak with your writing when the welcome bell rang, signaling you had a customer. After mentally cursing their existence, you closed your laptop and looked up to see a handsome man. Black Dickie work pants, crisp white t-shirt, and Birkenstock clogs with a reusable tote bag on his shoulder. You bit your cheek as you watched this mystery man approach the counter. “Hey, how can I help you?” your voice cracked subtly enough for him not to notice- or at least not indicate he heard it crack.

“Do you have any children’s section and recommendations?” he asked hopefully. “Well, that depends,” you started as you walked around the counter. “How old is the kiddo?” you asked as you walked toward the back of the shop, motioning him to follow you. 

“She’s one.” Carmy answered, following you through a narrow hallway made up of two overstuffed bookshelves. You nodded, “Well, my nephew loved Stellaluna when he was little- so that’s my go-to.” 

Carmy nodded, “Okay.. any others? It’s her birthday, so wanna get her somethin’ fun.” he explained as you handed him a copy of Stellaluna, “Is this about bats?” he asked as he held up the book to you. You laughed and nodded, “It’s charming- it’s about embracing differences and how different people can be friends.”

You directed Carmy through the children’s section for about an hour. Carmy held a pile of colorful picture books and a copy of a fairy series you’d recommended for when Michelle got older. “You’re really into this, aren’t you?” Carmy asked as he set the pile of books on the counter. You nodded as you began ringing up his purchase, “I’m getting my Master’s in English Lit.”

Carmy smiled, “That’s cool.” 

“Thanks… what about you? Are you passionate about your work?” you challenged as you put each book in a paper bag. “Passion is a subjective experience… I’m a chef- I actually own The Bear.” he laughed, gesturing toward the exit. “Is it nearby? Sorry, I don’t go out to eat often.” you grimaced, hoping you hadn’t offended him. Carmy nodded, “It’s across the street a few doors down.” 

“I’ll check it out sometime.” you smiled, handing him his bag. Carmy nodded, “Sure thing. I’m Carmy, by the way.” 

“Y/N. I hope the little one likes her books.”

“I’ll be her favorite uncle for sure.” 

~

It took a few weeks for Natalie to notice, Carmy was happier. When she went to pick Michelle up she noticed an ever growing stack of children’s books, coloring books, and his not ratty old stuffed animals from Donna’s garage. Something was goin’ on… she just didn’t know what. 

“Is Carmy dating someone?” she asked Syd one night when they were alone in the office. She shrugged, “Honestly, I don’t want to know about his love life.” she laughed at the end. The sheer obscurity of Carmy having a girlfriend after the Claire saga was something Syd didn’t want to wrap her head around. “He’s been going to that bookshop a lot- if he is seeing someone, she probably works there.” Syd thought aloud as Natalie hit print on the document she’d been working on. 

“Hm. Interesting…”. “Natalie trailed off as she exited the office with the paperwork and a pen. She walked into the dining room to get Richie to sign off on an order. She watched him squeeze the bridge of his nose at the host stand. “Stressed?” Natalie commented as she set the documents in front of Richie. Yeah… where’s Carmy? I need to ask him about the menu for next week.” 

Natalie shrugged, “Not sure. He said he had to run an errand?” 

Richie shook his head, “I swear that child is tryin’ to get with this girl- mother fucker learned how to read to impress her. Marcus saw him reading some philosophy book in the office last night.” 

“Hm. I guess I’ll just have to ask him about it.”

[joelsgoldrush]

come back same time and place the next night

prologue / 3k words

pairing: dad's coworker!joel miller x f!reader

raiting: 18+ (minors dni)

series summary: your chances of hooking up with your dad’s soon-to-be coworker are low, but never zero. turns out the two of you have a lot more in common than you thought, especially when you find out he’s going to be staying at your house for a while. you know what they say: if you can’t beat them, fuck them.

series warnings: no outbreak AU, dad's coworker!joel (idk if that's a thing but yeah), lots of feelings (angst/fluff), age gap (reader is 23, joel is 50), no use of y/n, i'm not good at choosing names for side characters sorry for that, some chapters will include smut 18+ and i'll let you know at the beggining of each part

warnings for this chapter: soft!dom joel, oral (m receiving), dirty talk

A/N: HELLO AGAIN i'm back with a new series!!! first of all, i just wanted to say THANK YOU bc of all the love you gave my previous post. i'm so thankful for all the likes, reblogs and comments, you truly made me feel incredibly happy. tbh i used to have a hard time figuring out whether i should start posting my own creations or not, and the support you showed me made me realize that it was definitely the right call. so yeah tysm for that and i hope you also enjoy this new project of mine :) i juIt have one final left and then i'll have a couple of weeks to relax and work on this series! also english isn’t my first language so if you come across any mistake please tell me!

here's my masterlist in case you want to read my other works :)

“Sneaking out of my house / I must be out of my mind / I’m running out of excuses / We’re running out of time / You say the love will come and go / We’ll learn how to ride the ebb and flow / You’ll always leave before the light / Come back same time and place the next night.”

You take another sip of your drink, alcohol making its way through your throat. It leaves a trail of burning kisses down the inside of your esophagus, and you make an effort not to swear as the sensation settles heavily on your chest.

Stacy looks around the bar for a while, her knee impacting rhythmically against yours ever so slightly. Next thing you know, she’s snorting, her blonde hair falling like cascades over her collarbones. “I'm afraid you, my dearest friend, have lost your good judgement. There isn’t a single hot guy in this bar.”

“That’s not true,” your fingers pinch the pink straw floating on your glass, a lipstick stain adorning it. You’re not exactly sure, though. The truth is you aren’t looking for somebody tonight, at least not right now. “Give me a second.”

Scanning your surroundings, you try to concentrate on your quest: finding a new hobby for Stacy. And by hobby, you mean a man she can simp over for the rest of the night. Once you’ve examined the room multiple times without success, you feel… slightly disappointed. 

Just when you’re about to agree with her, this pretty waiter comes on the scene, placing a martini under your friend’s nose. “Here it is. Hope you enjoy it.” 

Oh.

Stacy giggles at him. It’s that specific kind of giggle you know very well. “Thank you, but I didn’t order this.”

“Don’t worry. This one’s on me,” the hot-waiter answers, giving her a smile that’s all white teeth before disappearing between the mess of sweaty bodies on the dancing floor. 

You look at her, because you already know what she will do next. She wiggles her eyebrows in your direction and takes hold of her purse, not without previously drinking almost half of the cocktail she got for free. 

Her forehead furrows in a funny way. “It’s not very good. He’s lucky he’s cute.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” you tell her, ignoring her words. “I’m being serious.”

She leaves and you’re left alone, though you don’t mind the lack of company. The beating of your heart seems to sync with the pounding music from the pub. There’s this one girl doing karaoke, but nobody seems to be actually listening to her. You wonder if she’s aware of it, although she appears not to, because her tone gets even more high-pitched every time she gets to the chorus of the song.

After some minutes, you decide to give Stacy’s drink a try. She wasn’t wrong: the taste of it is absolutely awful. Some muscle in your jaw twitches as you cough a little.

“Is it that bad?” 

You turn to your side, looking for the owner of that unknown voice that startled you. A man stands beside you, pointing out the martini. Leaning in closer to him, you hand him the drink. “Why don’t you try it yourself?”

His cold fingers brush yours gently when he takes the glass into his hands. The straw vanishes between his lips momentarily, and then he proceeds to chuckle. “You’re right. It’s… definitely somethin’ else.”

This must be your lucky night. When was the last time a guy this good-looking approached you? He jerks his thumb toward the empty chair in front of you. “Are you waitin’ for someone?”

You can't help but smile. “Not anymore.” 

The attractive, charming stranger sits down, and you seize the opportunity to take a closer look at his face. You’re not sure of his age, but he’s older than you. He seems to be in his early 40s, the hair on his beard starting to get a bit gray. It’s subtle. If you weren’t such a perfectionist, perhaps you wouldn’t have seen it. But you did, and if possible, it just makes him come across as even more appealing to you.

“If you don’t mind me askin’, why did you order that drink?”

“Well, I didn’t. It was a gift for my friend,” you rest your chin on your palm, giving a half shrug. “She’s with the guy that gave it to her. The blonde girl over there, with the white tank top? That’s her.”

His eyes follow your gaze, finding Stacy just a couple of meters away from where the two of you were talking. She raises one of her hands in greeting, the boy from before attached to her hip like a lost puppy in the middle of the road.

“She seems nice,” he murmurs once he focuses his attention on you again. 

“Yeah, she is,” as you finish that sentence, you feel your phone vibrating in the pocket of your jacket. “Excuse me.”

It’s a text from Stacy. Said message reads: 

whose dad is that??? he’s hot af

You laugh at her occurrence, and he tugs at his shirt collar. “What happened?”

“She texted me: whose dad is that?” staring at him, you lift an eyebrow. “Do you have any children I should know of?”

The stranger seems to hesitate before replying. “No, I don’t,” you watch him lick his lips. “Why? You’re not into dads?”

He's cocky. Good thing you like cocky.

Time flies. You learn some things about him: he’s from Texas (the southern accent gives him away) and works as a contractor (just like your dad, you think, which is funny.) When he reveals how old he is, he seems to look for any sign of discomfort on your features. “I’m forty-five.”

“Twenty-three,” you retort with your own age. He glances up to the ceiling, and you give a bitter laugh. “Is it a problem for you?’”

“Shouldn’t I be the one askin’ that to you?”

You flutter your eyelashes at him. “I don’t mind.” If anything, you like him more. However, there’s one mystery left to bring to light. “What I do mind is that we’ve been here for almost an hour and you still haven’t told me your name.”

He leans back in his chair. “Let's play a game.”

“Be careful. I’m really competitive.”

“You have three chances to guess my name. I’ll just give you my initial. You gotta do the rest, deal?”

What were the odds of guessing it? I should take the risk, you think as you find yourself already nodding your head. “Deal.”

“It starts with the letter J.”

“Jack,” it’s the first name that comes to your mind. For an instant, you believe you’ve won, but then you catch him smirking. “It’s not Jack, isn´t it?"

The corner of his mouth turns up. “Keep tryin’.”

“Josh?”

“Ice cold.”

“Joe?”

Something you're unable to even distinguish glows in his eyes. “I’m givin’ you one more chance.”

“So I’m close?” you ask him, probably too enthusiastic. He doesn’t say anything else, so you go on. “Is it Joel?”

He places a hand on top of his shirt where his heart is, pretending to act relieved. “Fuckin’ finally.”

You punch your fists into the air. “Yes! I knew I was gonna get it.” A sincere smile takes place on your face. “What’s my prize?”

“Well,” he inches forward, his pinky nudging your wrist, that mere touch giving you goosebumps. “You could give me your number and go on a proper date with me.”

God knows you want it. Rising from your seat, you tuck a lock of brown hair behind his ear. “I was thinking of something else.”

That’s how you end up in the ladies restroom, your back flushed against the wooden door as Joel presses his clothed knee between your legs. You moan into his mouth without thinking if there are any other people outside waiting to use the bathroom. Joel draws in a long breath, grinning as he takes in the sight of you. “You wanna put on a show for the others? I'm not one to judge."

“I want to suck you off,” your hand is dangerously close to his crotch, your nails ghosting over his zipper. He seems to be having an internal fight with the last brain cell he has left, but then he detaches himself from you, unzipping his jeans. The sound of his belt hitting the floor with a thud is what finally leads you to fall to your knees.

He’s big. You can tell his size from your position, a wet patch forming into the fabric of his boxers. Playing with the waistband of his boxers for a mere second, your self-control attempts to falter. You grab him by the base, stroking it experimentally. Joel fights back a groan, urging you to take him. “Come on, sweetheart. I don’t like t’beg.”

But you do, that’s the thing. “Please,” you whisper, hoping he’ll hear you. His eyes find yours and suddenly it clicks. A lightbulb goes on in his head. He curses under his breath, directing his dick towards your open parted lips, and your eyelids get heavy as the taste of his precum invades your tastebuds.

It’s not your fault he has an amazing dick.

You begin to bob your head, taking more and more of his length with every one of your short movements. Slick must be already staining your own panties, but you can’t get yourself to care about that insignificant detail. Not now, when Joel’s hips thrust deeper into your mouth, his tip brushing the back of your throat and making you gag. It's dirty, and you should probably be ashamed of getting caught by a bystander. All your worries are swept away from your mind the moment he decides not to keep quiet. “Fuck, baby. Knew you would put that gorgeous mouth to good use. Attagirl, takin’ me so well.”

A stupid whine gets lost somewhere in your vocal tract. Intertwining your fingers with his, you locate his wandering hands on your hair, wishing he'll take the hint. He does, and grabs a handful of it, pulling you off his cock. 

“You really like this, don’t ya’?” Joel smears your lower lip with your spit. “Were you thinkin’ about this while we were talkin’ back there?”

“Y-yes,” you try to take him in your mouth again, but he doesn’t allow you to, his iron grip on your nape getting tighter the more you fight against it.

Then he lets you have it. “Bet you get off on this too,” his voice drops an octave, and it sounds so nasty and intimate you’re on the verge of crying. With teary eyes, you swallow around his length. 

You lose track of time. His bare thighs tremble and the only noise you can hear is his heavy breathing. “F—fuck. I’m close, where do you want it?” Mumbling something you can’t even comprehend with his cock still in your mouth, his thrusts begin to lose finesse, thick fingers holding you where he needs you the most. “So good, baby. Lettin’ me have you like this. Fuckin’—“

He’s about to come.

“—good girl.”

It all happens so fast you have to remind yourself to gulp down his cum, hot and sticky and just Joel’s. You patiently wait for him to come down from his high, nuzzling his happy trail. He helps you stand up, kissing you and tasting himself on your tongue. As soon as he tries to sneak a hand into your panties, getting closer to your aching cunt, you recognize your phone ringing in the distance.

Groaning, you stretch your arm, answering the call. “Hello?”

“Well, hi. This is awkward.”

You frown. Joel mimics you. “I’m sorry, who’s this?”

“I’m calling you from Stacy’s phone. We were making out and then she told me she was feeling sick, so I took her outside… and now she’s throwing up,” the boy on the other side of the line explains to you and you detect a hint of agitation in his voice. “She asked me to contact you.”

“Oh, God. Hot-waiter?”

“Yeah, she also said you were probably going to call me that,” he seems to move his phone away from his ear, and then talks to you again. “She’s not passed out, but she shouldn’t stay here.”

Does he actually think you’re going to leave her alone? “Can you tell me where you are?” you suggest him while Joel tucks himself back into his boxers.

“Next to the parking lot.”

You hang up after telling him you’ll be there in five minutes, and you feel Joel’s lips on your neck, a sigh spilling from you. His teeth nip at your sensitive skin. “You gotta go?”

Humming, you smooth down your skirt, facing the mirror and observing your reflection, some leftover mascara sticking your eyelashes together. He appears right behind you, his broad frame becoming more visible this way. “Stacy’s throwing up. I have to take her home.”

“Do you have a car?” 

“No, but I’ll call an uber. It’s no big deal.”

Joel puts his hands on his hips. “I brought my truck. Let me help you.”

Of course he has a truck. 

“Joel, you don’t have to,” you massage the back of your neck, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. 

“It’s the least I can do,” tilting his head, his lips catch yours once again. “Consider it my way of thankin’ you, since I cannot return the favor.”

It shouldn’t feel like this. You weren’t used to doing this kind of thing on a regular basis, but you’re more than sure that men don’t treat you this way after sucking them off. Still, you accept his offer since it means you’ll get to spend more time with him.

He walks you out and helps you get Stacy on her feet. As she sees Joel, she spreads her arms wide, hugging him. “Oh my God! It’s the hot dad!”

“Sweetie, you have like— puke all over your clothes,” you tell her, so Stacy chooses to hug you instead. “She gets pretty sensitive when she’s drunk.”

“I can tell,” Joel opens the back door of his truck, jerking his head in the direction of it. “Get her inside while I start the car.”

It all goes pretty well from then on. He asks you for Stacy’s address and you give it to him, the palm of his hand resting on top of your left thigh. Stacy gets comfortable in the back seat, yawning. “You two look like my parents before they got divorced.”

“That’s a really nice compliment,” you mutter with irony as Joel laughs by your side, rubbing his chin.

Soon after that, she falls asleep. Joel parks his car right in front of Stacy’s porsche. He glances over his shoulder, making sure she’s still sleeping before his seatbelt’s off and he’s grabbing you by the jaw, leaning in for a kiss. The fucker’s a very good kisser, you notice throughout the night.

“Are you gonna give me your number?” he murmurs against your mouth, his hot breath mixing with yours. 

“It depends. Will you call me?”

He tells you he will, and you prefer to trust him as you watch him save your number, a smiley face next to your name.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Joel doesn’t call you.

You don’t want to admit it, but it’s starting to get to you. He did sound honest. Why the hell did he treat you like that if he wasn’t planning on calling you? Why did he insist so much on getting your number?

Men suck. Joel sucks, you decide after a whole afternoon of staring at your phone, waiting to receive a text from him. Given the situation, anything would make you feel better.

Hey! It’s Joel, from the bar. I’m so sorry for not calling you. I forgot to tell you I’m married and have three children, two cute little puppies and a cat. Anyways, what a great night we had! Take care!

Okay. Perhaps not anything.

You’re home, sitting on the couch while you watch a meaningless TV programme. It consists of answering random questions, and if you get them wrong, you fall down some dark tunnel that only God knows where it takes you.

Normally, during a night like this, you’d be studying or perhaps at Stacy’s. But tonight, your father had asked you to actually stay. He didn’t tell you why he specifically needed you there, and you didn’t bother to ask him.

Out of the blue, you hear the doorbell ring. None of your parents seem to be on the first floor, so you walk to the door, opening it. 

You choke on your own saliva.

Joel’s here. Joel, who didn’t call you. Joel, who looks absolutely good with his hair slicked back. 

“Did I ever tell you where I lived?” the tone of your voice falters, your legs suddenly feeling wobbly.

He can’t believe it either. “No. I must have the wrong address,” keeping his eyes fixated on the box of chocolates dangling from his hand, he straightens his back. “What are you doin’ here?”

“I should be asking you that,” you hiss, your pupils flared with anger. “Why the fuck are you at my house, with a freaking box of chocolates, when you couldn’t bring yourself to call me?”

Then, you hear the sound of footsteps coming from the kitchen. It’s your dad. He contemplates the scene with a smile. “I see you’ve met my daughter. Trust me, my wife and I taught her better manners than this. Don’t know why she didn’t invite you in. Food’s almost ready!”

You’re about to short-circuit. Definitely not a joke.

“Sweetheart, this is Joel Miller. Remember I told you last week that someone from the company was coming over for a while? Well, this is him,” your father chuckles, expecting you to come up any kind of answer.

Joel’s faster than you, intending to shake your hand, those same calloused fingers that he had used to touch you in that dirty bathroom now playing dumb. “Nice to meet you.”

If he wants to pretend you don’t know each other, then so be it.

You squeeze his hand without measuring your strength. “Oh, the pleasure’s all mine, sir.”

Turns out that your chances of hooking up with your dad’s soon-to-be coworker were low, but never zero. 

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

tags: @spurz :)

[reminiscingtonight]

cowgirl's got my heart?

Cowgirl's Got My Heart Blurb

A/N: featuring a chaotic Leah Williamson

“Babe, do you know where my charger is?”

Straining your ears, all you can make out is the quiet buzz of the television going off in the living room downstairs.

Sighing, you make the long trudge down to the first floor. The closer you get, the more you can make out what is playing on the TV.

“Stupid Arsenal girls obsessed with the Arsenal boys,” you mutter under your breath when you realize it’s an Arsenal Premier League game.

You love your girlfriend, you do, but her English bestie has somehow turned your cuddle buddy into an avid Premier League watcher. You’re all for 'supporting the boys,' but less so when it comes at the cost of losing your quality time with Lia.

Honestly, how much football could a footballer watch? The answer is not enough apparently.

With the living room in sight, you sigh out your question again. “Baby, do you know where--”

Feet screeching to a halt, you have to fight the urge to groan.

“You’re not my Lia.”

The blonde head of hair sitting on your couch turns at the sound of your voice. Leah gives you little wave, toothy grin on show as she snuggles deeper into your cushions.

“Williamson, where’s my girlfriend?”

“Dunno,” she shrugs, eyes quickly darting back towards the television when the crowd momentarily breaks out into a cheer, which quickly dissolves into annoyed groans as the ball goes out of play.

“Who even let you in here?” you moan, thumping your head against the wall in frustration.

“Got my own set of keys.”

Your head flies up at that, eyes instantly zeroing in on the Arsenal defender. There, in her hand is a small keyring filled to the brim with what you can only assume are the keys to mutliple of her teammates’ houses.

Your eyebrow twitches. “You... what?!”

Before you have a chance to cuss her out or try wrestling the keys out of Leah’s grasp, there’s a soft hand wrapping itself around your forearm.

Turning around you come face-to-face with a very amused Lia.

You all but wrap yourself around your girlfriend, journey for a working phone charger long forgotten. “Baby, make her go away,” you groan, pressing your face deeper against Lia’s neck.

Your girlfriend chuckles, hand coming up to rub soothingly against your back. “Sorry, no can do. We’re watching our counterparts play.”

“You’re watching them lose,” you correct, flinching when a seat cushion goes flying and hits you directly in the head.

You turn around to glare at Leah, who has an equally as annoyed look on her face. “They aren’t losing.”

“It’s 0 - 1, they’re losing.”

Leah huffs in frustration and this time you can’t stop the smug smirk from rising to your lips. Leah lives to annoy the living daylights out of you but you do the exact same to her.

Though your smirk is quick to fade at the harsh pinch you receive.

Yelping, you turn to see Lia giving you a pointed look.

“What? They’re losing!”

“It’s not over until it’s over,” Lia quips, pulling you to the couch with her.

You let out a disgruntled noise when you end up sandwiched between the two Arsenal players.

Leah instantly throws her feet into your lap, ignoring your look of disgust. “Foot rub please.”

“Did you grow up with cave people? I know Amanda raised you better than to throw your feet into laps uninvited.”

“I said please! And I’m stressed. Watching the boys can be stressful sometimes.”

“Turn it off then!”

The frantic “No!”s from both sides of you almost has you jumping... Until you realize their four eyes are glued firmly to the television again.

“Sorry.” At least Lia has the decency to look apologetic when she sees your unamused face.

Leah on the other hand seems to relax further against the coach, toes digging deeper against your thighs as she crosses her arms behind her head. “Gotta get with the program, (Y/N). Football’s not a hobby or a job. It’s a way of life.”

She says it with a little smirk, self-satisfied expression on her face as she turns her full attention back to the game on your television.

Your eyebrow twitches again.

Leah lets out a yelp when you actually tackle her this time, hands digging around her pocket for the keys.

“You can have your football life somewhere else that isn’t my couch!”

Send me a fic title

[miskamix]

Soukoku with a very reluctant reader despite being with them throughout practically everything (15 arc to present) and being in a relationship (dating/married whatever) with them they still aren’t comfortable and exclude themselves on purpose, dodging their kisses, slipping out their arms in hugs, and avoiding them in general because they feel as if the two are quite literally meant for each other and they’re just a nuisance (it’s soukoku they are literally made for each other) so they don’t think much of it until the two of them confront them, y’know?

𝓢𝓸𝓾𝓴𝓸𝓴𝓾 𝔁 𝓖𝓷! 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

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I've been really wanting to write this for a while now but i haven't had the motivation to do so 😓

I decided to make it so that like chuuya and dazai had started to talk about wanting kids with the reader and then reader also wanting them but becoming much more distant since they think they dont deserve to start a family if that makes sense??

I'm sorry if this wasn't like what you wanted this is just what i came up with :(

TW: Idk really know, Talk about pregnancy? Please do tell me if there is something that could need a TW

Also reader is AFAB but uses GN pronouns.

English isn't my first language!!!

Words: 1,6k

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You love both your hubands, Chuuya and Dazai, very much, but you always felt like you were in the way of their love, like you were a bother to them or that you didn't deserve them. In your mind they were meant for each other, which they are, but you felt like you were just there, like you aren't meant to be with them.

For as long as you can remember, you've been the most distant one in the relationship, the one that gives the least kisses, hugs ect ect. Both Chuuya and Dazai just thought you weren't into physical touch so they didn't ask much about it, but they still gave, or at least tried to give you lots of kisses and love.

Most of the time when one of them tried to kiss you, you slip away to avoid the kiss. Only sometimes did you actually let them kiss you, and they cherish those moments with you since they're so rare.

You always try to convince them that you dont need to join them on dates and that they arent your thing, even when all you wanna do is go on cute dates with them. Even with your excuses, they still get you on dates most of the time, but even then you're still very distant.

You even sleep in a different room, and saying "I'm more used to sleeping alone" or "i sleep better when i'm alone" as an excuse when they ask. Still, your heart hurt when you thought about how they cuddled in bed in the room right next to you, you knew you could just walk in and join them, but you felt like you weren't worthy of that.

Over all, you felt really insecure in the marrige, you really had made yourself believe that they didn't love you at all.

.....

You've been very insecure about the relationship for years, even when you guys were just teens, it all started when they asked you to be they're partner when they were both 17, since then you've been like this. But now, for some reason, you've been worse then ever.

Ever since you overheard them talking about wanting children you've been trying to keep away from them compleatlly, for what reason? You honestly dont know. you don't know why you are like this, you want children with them, so why are you becoming more distant then ever?

You've spent nights crying because of this, one of the most reacent ones were, chuuya hugging you from behind and caressing your belly while you made some food for yourself. You don't even know what made you want to cry, the gesture just made you feel something inside. After that you had excused yourself and rushed into to the bathroom, turned on the shower and cried.

Because of your change in behaviour, and becoming more and more cold to the both of them, they fianlly started to think that maybe, just maybe there was something wrong with they're precious sweetheart.

One night when you had gone into your room they both could hear faint sobbing, and they had gotten worried. That night they stayed up until late talking about times where they had both been oblivious to your actions and how they should bring it up to you. They were both very guilty, even if they didn't know what was bothering you.

...

...

You were sitting on your bed looking at the snow falling outside through your window while drawing something, everything felt so peacefull at that moment, like nothing else but you and your little space existed.

Everything felt fine until the thought of a child came back itn your mind. what would it be like to have a child with them? would that make you feel loved? would it make you feel like a part of they're relationship?

You thought about the time you overheard them talk about having a child through surrogacy. "Maybe we could try surrogacy? It didn't look like [Name] enjoyed it when we had sex, and i'm not sure they would wanna carry a baby" you had heard Dazai say to Chuuya.

Surrogacy wasn't a bad thing to you, but you were scared that they would ask you, since you knew you couldn't bring yourself to say no. It made you scared that another person was gonna carry your child. You were scared they would find them prettier, more beautiful then you and leave to be with them.

You felt tears form in your eyes at just the thought of something like that happening. Your tears fall onto the half done drawing thats in your lap, making small damp spots on it. You try to hold back your tears as best as you can but they just keep coming, its like all the emotions you've been bottoling up for the past few years are fianlly beinfg released.

As you sit on your bed sobbing, you fail to notice both Chuuya and Dazai standing outside your room listening, both of them looking worried. They both give each other a look and decide to walk in and see if you are alright and if they can figure out why you've been acting so distant.

A sudden small knock on the door of your room snaps you out of it and you quickly start to wipe your tears in a hurry, "W-what..?" You say, trying to not making it sound like you've been crying, since you dont want them to wotty about you. "Darling, we heard you crying.." Chuuya opens the door and gets closer to you. "Please tell us whats wrong.. we care about you.." He takes your hand and strokes it gently with his thumb.

This small act of love makes you burst back into tears as Dazai and Chuuya take you into they're arms and start to rub your back as your sobs become louder. At this moment you feel trully loved by them, you feel safe and protected in they're arms, as if there is nothing that can hurt you at this moment.

"[Name], darling whats wrong? did we do something to upset you? ..why have you been so distant?" Dazai ask you while moving some of your hair out of your face. You can see the worry in both they're faces, and you start to feel guilty for maiking them worried. "..its nothing.. i swear.." You try ti make up excuses and you try to slightly push them of you, but you feel so weak at the moment.

"we can obviously see that you aren't doing alright.. please.. we care about you and your health.. we dont want you yo suffer alone.." Chuuya wipes your tears and kisses your forehead gently.

After a while of just being in they're arms you fianlly feel brave enought to try and tell them, you tell them how you've felt like you are just a burden in the relationship, like you're in the way of they're love. "..I just feel like i dont deserve to be with you both.. its.. just that you two are double black.. you both are amazing and strong.. and i'm just nothing... i haven't done anything.. You both would be betrter of dating someone else" You say while sniffling and wiping more tears of your face.

They both look quite sad as they listen to you explain how you feel, they both feel really guilty for not noticing earlier. "Darling.. we both love you more then anything in the world, just because 'haven't done anything' doesn't mean we dont love you.." Dazai takes your hand and kisses it, "We married you because you're beautiful, smart, funny and much more.. we really do love you.." Chuuya cups your cheeks making you look at him.

You can feel yourself starting to slightly feel better, knowing that they both love you, but stil, the topic of surrogacy was stil heavy on your mind. "..but.. what about the surrogacy thing..? do you guys still wanna do it..?" You ask them quietly and they both look at each other.

"Well, we do want to have a child, and surrogacy is a good option.." Dazai answers and he can see your face immediately drop making them slightly worried. "is there a problem dear..?" He asks you, "..i know it sounds dumb, but i'm just scared you both will leave me for the surrogate mother if we do a surrogacy.. i'm scared you two will think shes better then me.." Your voice shakes a bit as you talk, and you can see them both kinda realize why you're so sad.

"Oh, so this is what you've been sad about? You've been thinking about us leaveing you for someone else..?" Chuuya says before he continues, "Dear, we would never make you agree to have a surrogacy if it makes you uncomofrtable.. the surrogacy idea was just a back up plan.. for you know.. if you could for some reason carry the baby or you didn't want to carry it.." He chuckles a bit, trying to make you a bit happier. "Did you ovear hear us talking about it? Because if thats the only thing you heard, i'll have you know that that wasn't our first idea" Dazai adds and you feel a bit dumb for feeling so upset over something so small.

"But really [Name], we want to start a familly with you, but we both think its best you get some therapy first. And i'm not saying this as an insult but, we both think you aren't in the right state of mind to make such a big decision, we want you to have healed and to be fully sure if you want to have a child.." Dazai tells you, and now that you think about it, maybe therapy is a good option for you. "..I will.." you whisper.

You hear a satisfied hum come from them both, "We will both be by your side the entire time.."

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OML i'm finally done with this, i hope you like it. Again the ending might be a bit ass since i didnt really know what to write 😢

Also, please tell me the gender of the reader, cuz if you dont i'm just gonna make them AFAB and GN Like i really dont want to acidentally write like AFAB reader when you actually wanted AMAB, so please tell me it in the request 💀

Also, if you wanna be tagged in my post just tell me, idk if anyone wants to 😢