#and this is the first time I'm having these problems
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muntitled ¡ 3 days ago
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Hangman
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Pairings: The Salesman x Fem!reader
Summary: What's a broke girl to do when her university bills keep piling up and a sadistic Salesman offers to take all her problems away? All at one tiny little price.
Warning: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Kidnapping, SociallyAnxious!Reader, Blindfolds, Stalking, Knives, Blood, Stockholm Syndrome, Mentions of Suicide, Restraints, Anxiety, Smut (+18) mdni, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Erotophonophilia, Dom!Salesman, Sub!Reader, Dacryphillia, Sadomasochism, Oral Sex (m!rec), Deepthroating, Blood Kink
A/N: I'm not responsible for the media you consume
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You hadn't initially intended on slitting your own wrist. That idea was birthed almost vicariously in the moment. If he hadn't stopped you, your corpse would have been found laying on a park bench, covered in its own wet blood that would have been dripping from its open wrist like a faucet. Surely his proposition would be better than that.
With your vision obstructed by a heavy blindfold, your hearing is ten times more prominent. You hear the sound of your own breathing, as if your body was taunting you with all the life it still begrudgingly held inside it. You also heard heavy yet elegant footsteps cross a marble floor. Then you hear the scratch of a vinyl as the very sounds of an orchestra bleeds into the atmosphere.
"Hello," said the Man in the gray suit who had accosted you in the park. You remember the way in which he had sat beside you.
No one had ever sat beside you. Not even any of your peers that roamed the university. Everything about your countenance was so worried and severe. You wore your money problems on your sleeves and that evidently warded off any chance of a social life you had hoped to have.
The moon was shining particularly bright and the stars were twinkling little spectators to your silent meltdown on the park bench. Your eyes had been reading and re-reading the email sent to you by the university. An urgent email amongst a sea of urgent emails begging you to 'please just pay them'.
"Don't slit your wrist," he had said, "Not before you've given yourself a chance to win at life first."
You had looked up at him with bloodshot eyes from all that crying over potentially getting kicked out of university. He hadn't melted at your expression, in fact he only smiled softly. "We ought to play a game-"
"I wasn't going to slit my wrist."
"You were just holding that boxcutter for fun, then?" He curled up an eyebrow, leading both of your gazes down to the pocket box cutter that sat in your lap, the blade extended.
"I'm not in the mood to play a game."
"Not even at the cost of your university fees?" Your eyes snapped up to him then. He sat a healthy distance away from you. The space between you both was filled with possibilities so endless it was becoming uncomfortable to breathe. "How much do you owe them now?"
"That's none of your business," you were on the verge of gathering your things. Your boxcutter and your pride.
Perhaps you could kill yourself somewhere else, preferably without a man accosting you about the embarrassing state of your funds.
"I could pay for your university fees, you know," His words morphed into an anchor, keeping your butt firmly planted to the park bench. A midnight runner passed by you two. An evening breeze blew through your scalp and the goosebumps descended.
"Of course, you'd have to win first."
Anyone could see the conflict warring within your irses.
"This is how people get sex trafficked," you'd said, "Absolutely no thank you," How utterly in control you had been! A girl with a firm head on her shoulders.
He only laughed then. He laughed and laughed, so much so he had to politely clear his throat.
"You were about to kill yourself. Don't pretend to have any self preservation now," his words had struck a cord deep within the inner workings of your soul. Your face heated as you hid yourself, tucking your chin against your chest. You did suddenly feel remarkably silly and so incredibly juvenile.
"Don't worry," he had said with an almost lopsided grin, "It's your lack of self preservation that I find so incredibly intriguing, hence I'm asking for one game."
It was only one game.
One game and if you were lucky enough to win, you might coast through the rest of university stress-free. Like a normal 20 year old with normal 20 year old problems. Boyfriends. Clubbing. Whatever else all those girls did when they huddled together in their magnificent little groups. You could be a part of them. For once you had to give yourself the opportunity of feeling like a member of society.
"Are these restraints a necessary element of our game?"
As you sit in this room- a room he had brought you too- blindfolded- you tell yourself that you are giving yourself a chance to be a normal 20 year old. That's why you were currently restrained to a leather chair. The restraints held your wrists to the armrests and your and your ankles to the feet of the chair. This led to the slight and uncomfortable spreading of your legs- a dangerously vulnerable position to be in when you were wearing nothing but a university jumper and a pleated skirt.
You quickly find out that you didn't like to be restrained.
Your chest rises and falls a little higher with every sharp intake of your breath as you will yourself into calmness. Freaking out now seemed completely silly.
Almost as silly as letting a stranger bring you to his hidden location.
Had you no sense of self preservation at all?
Were you a walking piece of meat, waiting for the first predator to sink its teeth into you?
Has that predator finally arrived?
"The restraints are unfortunately a necessary element.” He says, softly, “The human body tends to get jittery when it's met with unforeseen stimuli, and I don't want you running out on me."
That lets the panic solidify itself even more in your bones. This man walked as if he was a perfectly stand up guy and that helped in your decision of letting him bring you here.
Nothing seemed particularly wrong with him at first glance.
His face has all the workings of a perfectly normal man. He looked like he was in possession of a cushy, stable job with pensions and benefits. A salesman.
He looked like he attended his kids soccer matches on the weekends.
He looked married to a beautiful woman who looks good in mom jeans and baked brownies for her Wednesday night book club.
He looked so painfully normal.
But the panic is rising, the more that ‘danse macabre’ fills the room.
"C-Could you at least play something else," You are fidgeting now and it causes him to raise a brow. "Danse macabre is just," you attempt to swallow but your tongue is completely dry, "-incredibly unnerving, right now."
You try to massage your wrists in the restraints and you breathe through your nostrils as a phantom pain shoots through your legs. The need to move was eating you alive.
"You know your classical music," The man regarded you with slight intrigue as he folded the piece of material he had once used to obstruct your vision. He places it on a tiny coffee table before you. "Interesting for a kid your age. Do you know the story behind it?"
"Of course, I do, why do you think I'm nervous?" You had his full attention now. You were almost drowning in it as he lowered himself to a leather chair directly opposite you.
You had never had anyone listen to you as intently as he does. No one bothered to hear what you had to say. The voices in your head were your only audience…
Now you have someone seated before you, so lax as he urges you to, “Go on, explain why it makes you so nervous.” It was completely addicting.
“W-Well,” you swallowed the air again. “Danse macabre quite literally means dance of death,” he sits back in his chair, his fingers tapping against his mouth.
“Why?” he asks in deeply monotony, as if you had captured him as much as he, evidently captured hou. Like you weren't the only one in restraints.
Your brows furrowed “Is this quiz apart of the game-”
“No. I just want to hear you talk.” He says as he reaches over the side of his chair uncovering a sleek black briefcase veneered in expensive leather. He assures you with a single nod of his head that he's listening as he clocks open the briefcase.
“Well,” your eyes are on the whiteboard he pulls out, “Camille wrote this symphony all dark and depressing because it's supposed to sound like it's being played by death himself,”
The suited man smiles down at his busy hands as he lays your boxcutter on the coffee table beside the whiteboard. “I-It tells us that death is the great equalizer. It doesn't matter if you have money or you're about to be kicked out of university for insufficient funds-” he cracks a small smile at that, pulling out a whiteboard marker in the process, “the dance of death is inevitable for us all. Money can't buy you out of it.” You shake your head, “It's real medieval shit.”
You watch him smile again. It's devastatingly attractive which immediately raises the alarms in your own head. This man has restrained you in a chair, in an undisclosed location. For all you knew, death was very well the thing waiting for you at the end of all this.
But he wouldn't stop you from killing yourself, only to kill you himself, would he?
You'd heard about serial killers being raging narcissists. You would virtually be a lousy victim, having already wanted to die.
That thought calms you somewhat.
“We're going to play ‘Hangman’,” he turns the board to reveal a simple drawing of a gallow and a man hanging from it.
“Are you familiar with it?”
“Of course,” you nod your head, your nerves level somewhat at the sight of the little stick figure.
Just guess a letter to a mystery before the Hangman is drawn. These were children's games.
“For every word you get right, a semester of your studies is paid in full.” He smiles, warmly, watching the awe blossom across your face. “You'll get your degree and become the psychologist you've always wanted to be.”
Your brows furrow, “H-How did you know I-”
“Of course there's a penalty to the game,” you watch him erase the little stick figure, as he draws the little lines corresponding with the amount of letters in the mystery word. “If you don't guess the correct words in time,” Time stands still. “Well… The word get carved into your skin.”
You had never been a cautious individual. When your mother would fret and nag about your safety, you would roll your eyes. Everyone else always had self preservation for you. Why would you need it? Bad things rarely happen to boring people. The news coverage worthy stuff? You?
But here you were, fucking drowning in the Bad stuff.
"I'm not playing,” You begin to try and twist your wrist out of the restraints as your panicked eyes zero in on the blade seated on the desk. “I'm not fucking playing-”
“I'm afraid that isn't an option. What's your first letter?”
Despite the soundproof padding stylishly plastered against the sleek black walls you still scream "HELP-Oh my god- HELP”
He walks over towards you in large strides, clamping his hands in your skull and pulling your head back. He's much closer now. Closer than he had been at the park. His eyes are sparkling with intensity and a manic sort of quality that escaped you on your first meeting. Where were these eyes when you were still on that park bench, still able to choose to run far, far away to the nearest police station.
Where were these wild eyes then?
“Look at how scared you've gotten...” He laughs, in your face, “A scared, terrified little Doll-”
“Please let me go-”
“I'm not the one keeping you restrained here.” He lifts his hands as if he were completely crime-free, “You decided to play this game out of your own volition. You're restraining yourself, Doll”
“Jesus, that doesn't even make sense-” you cry, “HELP-”
He pulls a tighter grip around your hair, silencing your cries as a wince bleeds out of your instead..
“You don't wanna do that,” he says, staring deep into your glassy irses, “I have a thing for little girls with pretty tears-”
“Please don't hurt me-” you didn't wanna be a newspaper girl. You didn't want to be a nobody-turned-somebody because her death was so grisly it graced the front pages of a newspaper. That isn't the way your story was supposed to go and so you plead with the humanity inside him. You search for it under all that black ink filling his almond eyes.
Nothing.
They're absolutely black.
“Guess a letter, Doll."
You steal your nerves. Your shoulders slump.
“E-Every word has a vowel in it right?” his eyes flutter shut as he presses his lips against the side of your face. He seems like he's transforming into a completely different person right before your very eyes and it set you alight with fear.
Fear and something else.
“That's it, now we're getting somewhere,”
“I'll go with ‘A’,” a tense, mortifying silence stretches between you too. He begrudgingly removes his hand from your hair, patting down your head like the child he regressed you to as he strolled to the white board.
“Correct.”
He writes the letter ‘a’ twice on the little lines. The first one of the second line and the second one on the fourth line and almost with your brain slotting into place you raise your head. you wipe a stray tear on your shoulder before saying, “I-I- know what the word is.”
He raises his eyebrow. “Already?” Intuition was a scary thing. It was like a last resort, leaving you clamouring for hope.
“Care to share,”
“Is there an ‘r’” you look up at him. “I need to be sure.” Your legs are fidgeting in anxiety. Your fingernails dig into the leather under the armrest.
He is quiet as he draws an ‘r’ over the second last line.
“Macabre. The word is ‘macabre.’”
A slow almost predatory grin stretches across his face.
“How much did you say tuition was?”
Your heart stammers in its chest.
For those few moments you don't think about death. You don't think about blood. All you think about is that outstanding amount as you murmur a quiet, “₩3,893,852.”
You had it memorized.
The number that haunted your every waking hour, bleed from your lips like a prayer.
You watch as he lowers the white board marker to uncover a phone in his back pocket. He taps a few buttons and in a matter of moments- he turns his screen towards you.
What a remarkable day this had turned out to be.
“How do you know my banking details?,” you ask, squinting your eye at the screen, “Who are yo-”
“That round was too easy.” He moves to sit back down, “Here's your next word,” your heart falls when he only draws three lines underneath the gallow.
Three letter words could be the easiest or the most difficult when it comes to a game like this.
“A?’” you ask through wet lashes. Your only option was to hammer through the list of vowels.
“Ooh-” he pouts, before drawing a Hangman's head. “Try again.”
“E?”
He's silent as he draws a stick for The Hangman's body. The panic kickstarts once more.
“Shit-”
“That's not a letter?” He jests, “One more non-word and you're Disqualified, Doll.” His knee is bouncing up and down. As if everything in him was anticipating the end of the game. Your nerves are drowing in anxiety.
“I-”
“You can't just name every vowel under the sun, Doll. You don't have very many options remaining.” He draws the stick figures first arm.
4 chances left.
“O?” Your breath catches in your lungs. You watch as he throws his head back to lift his hips slightly, as if adjusting his pants. It almost immediately lowers your gaze to the prominent bulge there. Fuck. Not only was he anticipating your loss, he was getting off to the thought of it.
“Well done.” He writes ‘o’ in the second line. Right between the middle and end lines.
“Uh- ‘c’”
He adds another appendage to the stick figure. “3 more chances remaining.” He says, standing up. His arm jitters as he picks up the boxcutter in.
“G-” you ask through tears. He kneels in front of you, his eyes are almost as desperate as yours.
“You are the most fun I've had in years,” he admits, before turning to draw another appendage.
“Guess again, Doll,” the boxcutter extends and you cry.
“You don't have to do this,” You plead and he only sighs as he places his forehead against yours.
“You are such a brave little girl, you know that-”
“Oh my god-”
“2 more guesses.”
“‘T?” You squeak out so quietly, as your eyes squeeze shut.
He presses his lips to your right cheek and you melt. The fear all disappears and it's just you and him. Even on his knees, he's so large, so towering. It sets you alight with incomparable need.
“Well done, Doll- I'm so proud of you, " he sighs, “One more word, baby.”
“P- wait, No!" the sound barely makes it out of your mouth and looks down at you, chest rising and falling.
You hold your breath, eyes wide and wet and it makes him so fucking hard.
“Y- my answer is ‘Y’.” He exhibited all the signs of a sadist. Of course his word for you word be-
“That's my answer. “Toy”
A tense silence bleeds as he brings the boxcutter into your field of vision, and you're once again writhing in your seat. “Please- please no-”
“Fuck I'm gonna need to cum-” He admits gravely. Even more grave, even more harrowing, you're squirming in your seat. Lust balling deep within your cut. You're terrified but so utterly turned on.
Is masochism a symptom of loneliness?
“Please-”
He presses the blade to your leg and you both watch as he sinks the tip down onto your skin. For all those moments, you revel in the pain. The blade breaks skin and you cry out as droplets of blood grows pregnant along your thigh. Danse macabre crescendos and tears fall. As he swipes his finger along the drop of crimson.
“D-Did I not get it right?"
“”You got it right,” he admits, undoing the buttons of his blazer as he stands to his heavy feet once more. The menacing shadow of a God. He's humongous and you crane your neck back to look at him.
“my little winner-” he mumbles, planting a heavy hand on your head as his other hand rubs over his erection.
“I-If I got it right,” you mumble through your sniffles, “Th-Then why did you cut me?”
He looks down at you. The hand planted on your head moves down to the side of your face as he unzips his pants. Your heart is banging out of its cage as he lowers his pants just enough to have his hand slipping into his boxers.
He watches the blood smudged across your thigh.
“I just-” he curses as he uncovers his fully erect cock, leaking precum,“I just wanted to see your blood.” he admits gravely before bringing his cupped hand to your lips.
'Spit.’ He commands.
You're unable to look away. The precum beading the head of his cock slides down the thick veins along the length of it- all the way to the base. You want him in your mouth. Inside you. The need and the pain is an avalanche of contradictions.
He makes you feel so scared, so wanted.
“Don't make me ask again.” He says darkly, tilting your head up to look deep into his eyes.
His fingers prod at your lips and your mouth falls open as his hand delves inside. “Tongue out.” He whispers hoarsely, cursing once again when you roll your tongue out. Somehow incredibly obedient.
“You're gonna be a good girl for me, Doll?” He asks, bringing the tip of his cock to your lips. You nod cautiously, feeling yourself descend into a state of mind you'd never been at before. You feel so pliant with his hand still on your cheek as he guides his cock into your mouth. You feel completely reckless. Someone like you who spends her time studying and worrying. Right now you were made to feel completely empty.
“That's it-” he coos, looking so utterly pained as his cock slides against your tongue, “That's my Doll,” he thrusts in and out of your mouth and you just sit there. Quite literally a doll. You let him use you, feeling more useful now than you've ever felt in all your years of living. There is beauty in submission that has a wet spot forming along your panties. You writhe as he begins to fuck your throat, drawing out a moan from him in the process.
“Shit- you're such a good girl-” there's fire in his eyes as he thrusts in and out. His hands move to the back of your head, forcing you down deeper on his cock. The sounds of your struggle -the gagging- it has his cocm twitching in your mouth
“Fuck-” he grunts, breathing so heavily as you begin to writhe in your seat, needing air.
“I knew you were special, Doll- I knew you were so far beyond self preservation- it borders pathetic” the saltiness of his precum trickle down your throat and you attempt to stomp your feet as your cries vibrate around his cock.
“Look at your hips moving baby,” he says, “You like this as much as I do. You're on my side. Even if you think you aren't.” Your hips are circling as if you're searching for friction along the chair as he groans. “Tell me you're on my side.”
He pulls your mouth off his cock and you breathe in deeply. You're coughing as droplets of spit run down your mouth. Spit and tears. Your face shows it all.
Your voice is hoarse. “I'm on your-”
“F-Fuck- I'm gonna cum-" He brings his cock back to your lips, “All over that pretty fucking face- fuck,” your tears fall as he strokes cock, emptying cock over you face. You keep your eyes shut, letting the sound of his pleasure-filled groans shoot straight to your puffy clit.
“I'm not letting you go,” his thumb moves over the cum coating your face. He moves his thumb past your lips, letting the cum seep into your mouth. Saltiness and need.
He needed you.
“You're not?” You ask petulantly, sucking on his thumb like you've regressed right before him.
“I'm not.” He confirms, “My little winner.”
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lady-of-endless ¡ 2 days ago
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"Veiled Intentions" (Hwang In-ho/Player 001/Front man x player!reader)
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Summary: No game of cat and mouse ends well.
Author's Note: Thank you so much to everyone who voted for this fic to be done first. I'm happy to provide. He might be a little obsessive, but you should've expected it by now. Don't worry; I got a softer, heartfelt, and angsty fic on the go for tomorrow. Hope you'll enjoy this one until then, darlings!
(Squid Game masterlist here)
Whenever he flashed a smile to the team, no one noticed how the coldness of his eyes was somehow still persistent. The charm of his smile always eclipsed that detail. It was enough to successfully manipulate most players, except for you. The only one who seemed to see the bigger picture was you and he could sense it. No amount of calculated smooth-talking, apparent encouragement, or fake short smiles could trick you too.
The others seemed to accept him easily, either for the calmness that made him seem reliable or for the vital need to have more people with the same vote. Not you, and it was clear to him.
In-ho had a plan going on; he had no intention of wasting time and trying harder to trick you too, letting you do your silent judging. But still, you were slowly becoming more and more present in his mind. You weren't warming up to him, weren't impressed like the others. Why not? More importantly, why did he like it that way? You were smarter and he enjoyed watching you analyzing everyone around, including him. Yes, you were a problem for him, but he was almost proud of having such a fascinating problem to take care of.
In-ho was too good at looking relieved, and joyful whenever the other players from player 456's team made it during the games. You noticed a strange spark in his eyes whenever you also completed the games. Was he really relieved or just glad that with each game he was getting closer to taking care of you personally?
Even now, he was watching you silently when the speakers announced bedtime. You all remembered what was the plan Gi-hun came up with to stay safe and looked around for a lonely bed bunk. Your constant doubt pushed you to come up with a plan to figure him out and now it was the perfect time to strike.
In-ho was ready to make a strategic choice when your voice interrupted his thoughts again.
"Join me?" You asked bluntly, with a warm smile on your face. A fake smile, a reflection of his. He looked at you, raising an eyebrow at your proposal. "For bonding time, getting along." You added, encouragingly, almost playfully, not to stir suspicion in others.
All the other teammates noticed how you kept your distance from him and were glad to see you try to get along.
In-ho almost wanted to chuckle at your reasoning but his expression remained composed. He could tell that you were trying to convince him with your charm and that you only played a role. And he was doing the same.
"Lead the way then." In-ho responded calmly, as always.
In-ho had a small, almost imperceptible smirk on his face the whole time following you, and his eyes were glued to the nape of your neck. How could he ignore you?
You crawled carefully under a bed that was placed closer to a corner no one else chose. A shiver ran down your spine when he joined you effortlessly, making almost no sound at all. The lights dimmed. However, that wasn't the problem. The problem was that the space from under the beds was not enough for two. Both of you were lying down on your backs, staring at the bed from above. His shoulder was pressed against yours, the feeling was impossible to push aside.
You closed your eyes tightly, cursing the tight space and sighing deeply. Why didn't you think this through? In-ho was amused by your frustration and how your body tensed next to his.
"You seemed so sure about this." He teased with a mocking tone he didn't even try to hide.
The way his voice sounded so intimate in the dark and how his warmth surrounded you, were making it hard to stick to the plan. You grew a little hotter under your clothes but you had to go for it. You took a breath in and spoke in a whisper.
"I can see right through your tactics." You said bluntly, still looking at the bed from above to avoid his gaze, knowing how intense it gets sometimes. You were almost proud of the sternness of your tone. "What are your intentions?"
He didn't respond right away, taking time to just look at your expression. In-ho was a meticulous man, he was expecting that question sooner or later from you.
"Wasn't I clear from the start?" In-ho asked calmly, almost innocently, switching his position to lay on his stomach and elbows, never losing sight of you. That position forced you to look up at him, exactly the way he liked it. He was getting too comfortable for someone who was cornered. Seeing how there was no sign of panic or surprise on his face, the previous boost of confidence was starting to slowly diminish in you.
"I think we both know what I mean." You added coldly, letting him know you've had enough of his games. He could feel your patience running thin and he was enjoying it.
Your assumption was true; you were so close to figuring it out but, at the same time, so far away, so clueless about what he really wanted, what he really was capable of. It gave him the freedom of acting anyways he wanted for a little bit.
"Indeed." He said, seeing an opening and moving a hand to the opposite side of your face on the floor, making it look like he was just supporting himself and not caging you. "And that's because you're playing the same games, don't you agree?" He asked smoothly. He watched as you rolled your eyes and looked away to hide your real reaction, taking you longer to respond. In-ho didn't insist, wanting to take his time exposing you bit by bit. When you turned your head back at him to answer, your heart halted, words dying. Your eyes met intimately, his face was even closer than expected.
"It won't work with me." His breath touched your lips. He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear to see your face better. He frowned when he caught himself giving in to his instincts, his fingertips caressing your cheek and stopping on your lower lip without thinking.
"But your tries were..." He added, applying pressure on your sensitive skin and moving his lips even closer to yours slowly. "Entertaining, to say the least."
In-ho watched your expression closely, observing the details of your face in the dark. He couldn't get enough that moment but his face didn't betray any sign of the greed that was coursing through him. So he didn't stop there, using the momentum of your shock.
"Was it fun?" He asked, mercilessly but blissfully tormenting and playing you. "To feel like you had the upper hand?" He whispered while his hand descended to the base of your neck.
In-ho looked at your parted lips again, waiting for your answer and not moving away. There was a storm of conflicted thoughts in your mind and the warmth of his palm on your pulse point was not helping you find a good answer in time.
"Answer me." His grip tightened slightly, his tone smooth yet demanding. "And look at me, darling"
You looked up at him and nodded, admitting silently. Finally, you understood what you got yourself into and felt more than exposed. It was frustrating how easily he switched the roles from being the one interrogated to the one asking whatever he wanted.
You shivered at the sight of his subtle smirk. It was nothing like the bright fake smile he offered to the team. One corner of his lips curled upwards while the rest of his expression remained composed. His eyes glinted with icy, calculated sharpness. Finally, you could see him, whoever he was, and not the simple player 001.
In-ho was studying her, thinking about how you weren't aware of the effect you had on him from how well he was concealing it. Still, none of your questions were answered.
"What are you going to-"
"Hush." He murmured against your lips, cutting your words. "Don't wake the others."
In-ho slowly traced your collarbones through the thin material of the shirt with your player number and placed his whole palm on your chest over your racing heart. He paused, just to feel your heart, taking credit for its hectic beating. The silence that surrounded you was not helping either, you could hear every breath, every move, enhancing the intimate feeling so much you had to remind yourself that you were still in the middle of a sick challenge with daily deadly games.
He looked back into your eyes and spoke softly, seeing your inner conflict, wanting to distract you from it. "I've caught you staring at me so many times."
"I was just spacing out." You whispered, not hesitating this time but still telling him another lie.
Even the always calm, rarely out of character In-ho chuckled at that. It was a pleasant, unfiltered but still strange sound.
"Liar." He said while caressing your hair again but making sure to tug gently at the roots as a warning. "You had so many opportunities to push me away since we got under here." He whispered, almost tenderly, meaning it. His eyes were not locked on yours. Was it because he was letting himself think out loud? "But you don't want to do that..." He added, pausing his touches, giving you time to object. But the truth was that your denial ended with him calling you 'darling'. That waited objection never came and In-ho understood.
With that, he allowed himself to take what he wanted. He thought to himself that it was inevitable. His lips found yours with an unexpected gentleness despite his restrained hunger. The hellhole you were trapped in seemed to fade away with the way his lips explored yours. His fingers tightened possessively against your skin as the kiss deepened. His warmth was embracing you blissfully but his tongue was making you dizzy with each breath he was stealing from you.
After what felt like time, bending to his will, In-ho broke the kiss slowly. Even if you didn't say a word, he still covered your lips with his finger for a moment.
"I'm expecting you to still be smart about this and keep it private." He spoke in your ear, an expectation or a warning. "Do that and you'll be safe no matter what."
What you couldn't understand was that this was a hidden promise. If you kept whatever he gave you a secret for yourself, he would pull all the strings to get you alone with him, away from that game.
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leahwllmsn ¡ 2 days ago
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tell me I'm the number one girl in your eyes
alexia putellas x reader
word count: 2.5k
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You thought that Alexia was the only person in the world who could never hurt you.
You thought about a lot of things. About how Alexia was going to be the one to propose. How your wedding was going to be an intimate one in your and Alexia’s hometown, by the vineyard. How you would have a maximum of two children, no doubt one of which was going to follow in Alexia’s footsteps.
Your life with Alexia was set. It was predictable, really. From the moment you met her back in Mollet del Vallès when you were children, to your first kiss in her backyard, to the day you moved to the city together.
Childhood best friends who fell in love along the way—it couldn’t get anymore perfect than that. Your families were neighbours, it was practically one big family. Everyone was looking forward to your wedding, and by everyone that included you too.
You had been dating for fifteen years (well, you were on and off at some point, but that didn’t count), so it wasn’t far-fetched that you were expecting a proposal soon. You and Alexia talked about getting married, it wasn’t a new subject for the two of you.
The only problem was that the proposal wasn’t coming and for the first time ever, you had a feeling that it wasn’t going to come. Ever.
You couldn’t pinpoint when Alexia changed, when Alexia stopped buying you flowers just because and when the conversations between you felt forced. Maybe it was after Alexia went back defeated from the Olympics. Or maybe it was after Barcelona won the Champions League and Alexia was everywhere but your home.
The distance between you grew and grew until you were left to beg for Alexia’s attention as if you were another fan and not her girlfriend, the person Alexia claimed she loved more than anything.
“I have meetings with investors tonight, for Eleven.” Alexia’s voice broke the silence in your apartment. “Might go on until late.”
“Okay,” was all you could say.
Another excuse, you figured. Another reason to avoid coming home to you. It had been going on for some time. You couldn’t remember the last time you went to bed at the same time anymore. 
Alexia’s figure appeared in the kitchen, she went straight to the fridge and took out her box of orange juice. Gone were the arms around your waist, the gentle kisses to your neck as you read the morning news. Her laughter would ring around the space as she claimed “only old people read newspapers these days, amor!”
“Are we still on for tomorrow though?” You hated that your voice was hopeful. Too hopeful.
Alexia finally looked at you, her brows furrowed. You weren’t surprised anymore that she’d forgotten. It was laughable at this point because it seemed that you were the only one still present in this relationship.
“Tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Dinner.” You tried to act nonchalant about it, as if it didn’t hurt that your own girlfriend forgot about your birthday.
Alexia stared at you for a few seconds, then nodded. “Of course. You know I finish training at four. Dinner is at seven, right?”
“Six.” And I thought you have a day off tomorrow, you wanted to argue. But you kept your mouth shut and let it go. 
Alexia finished her orange juice and grabbed her bag, stepping close to you to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “Don’t wait up.”
And just like that she was gone.
“I love you too.” You whispered to the empty apartment. It felt humiliating at times, to be the only one left in a relationship.
You wondered if Alexia still loved you. You couldn’t remember the last time she said those three words to you. You had a feeling that she stopped, that must be why she never said it anymore.
You wanted to confront her about it, to ask her why you weren’t worth her time anymore, but you didn’t think you were ready to face the fallout. You would be devastated when Alexia decided it was time to leave you. It wasn’t an if, but a when, because you knew it was inevitable. It could be tomorrow, or in a few weeks or even months.
Selfishly, you wanted to keep Alexia to yourself a little bit longer. Even though Alexia didn’t feel like yours anymore. 
You could pretend that you didn’t die every time Alexia’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. You could pretend that it was fine that Alexia never held your hand as you walked through the streets of Barcelona anymore.
You could pretend that Alexia still loved you, and that you were still the greatest thing the universe had ever given her—her words, a few years ago.
Tomorrow, you knew Alexia would go through her day as if it was just another regular day. If you were lucky, she’d remember that it was your birthday. If you were extra lucky, she’d even give you flowers.
Above everything though, you just hoped that she would show up to dinner.
You didn’t think you had any fight left in you if she didn’t.
—
The sun was shining against your face the moment you opened your eyes. Out of habit, your hands reached out to the other side. You couldn’t help the disappointed sigh that left your lips when you were met with empty sheets. You relished in the mornings when Alexia wasn’t awake and you could hold her, even though you had to pretend to be asleep as she gently lifted your hand and slipped out of bed when she woke. You missed when she would turn around and peppered your face with kisses to wake you up. She loved being the first thing you see in the morning.
Usually on your birthday, Alexia would treat you to breakfast in bed. It was tradition, one that she started ever since the two of you moved to Barcelona about a decade ago.
For a brief second, you had a dangerous glimmer of hope that Alexia was just in the kitchen. But with how quiet your apartment felt, you knew she left.
Alexia forgot. Or maybe she remembered, but she didn’t care anymore. You didn’t know which one was worse.
With a sigh and an ache so deep in your chest, you got ready for the day. You went through your usual routine: shower, breakfast, tidying any mess around your apartment that was out of place. 
It wasn’t until an hour later that the doorbell rang. A part of you hoped that it was Alexia, but the thought disappeared as fast. Your girlfriend wouldn’t need to knock on her own door.
It was a delivery man. Surprisingly, with flowers in his arms. Your heart leaped to the faint hope that they were from Alexia.
“Y/N?”
“That’s me.”
“Must be a special day,” he gave a kind smile, handing the flowers over to you. “Delivery for you from… Alba.”
The tinge of disappointment couldn’t help but creep into your chest. Still, you gave him the best smile you could muster and thanked him.
Alba remembered your birthday. Scrolling through your phone, you saw more people who remembered it was your birthday, even people you weren’t that close with.
It was radio silence from the person who mattered the most to you though.
Sitting alone on your sofa, you realized that you had nothing to do. You cleared your schedule out, and Alexia would usually take the lead. It was tradition to spend your birthdays just the two of you.
You dragged yourself to Mercadona, wanting to buy yourself a small cake and some candles. Before blowing the candles out, you wished for the impossible; birthday wishes were supposed to be powerful, weren’t they?
I wish things go back to the way they were before
Most importantly… I wish my girlfriend still wants me
—
You arrived at your favorite restaurant at exactly six o’clock. You ordered a bottle of wine and finished two glasses when thirty minutes had passed and your girlfriend was still nowhere to be seen.
The need to cry was overwhelming, you felt the tears pooling in your eyes already, waiting for the right time to fall. But you swallowed the ache and forced yourself to think of something happy, because crying whilst being alone at a table clearly meant for two was pathetic.
Your texts and calls went unanswered. An hour in and your last resort was to call Mapi and ask her if she’d seen or heard from Alexia.
“¡Hola, cumpleañera!”
“Maps, hey,” you tried to keep your voice steady, but they were futile. You were truly going to sound pathetic with your question. “Have you… Is Ale with you?”
“Qué? Alexia? Is she not with you?” Mapi sounded concerned. She sounded like she was ready to fight her best friend for you. The fact brought a slight smile to your face.
“No,” you took a deep breath. You couldn’t believe this was how your relationship had come to be. “She’s supposed to be here an hour ago.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, chica. She left a few hours ago, I don’t know where she went.”
“That’s okay.” You stared at your empty glass and contemplated on whether you should pour yourself another. You’d finish the whole bottle by yourself at this rate.
“Do you… do you want me and Ingrid to come over?”
The offer was sweet, your heart swell at the reinforcement that there were still people who cared about you. But you didn’t think you could go through conversations without breaking down.
So you politely declined Mapi’s offer and poured yourself another glass of wine. You were finishing this bottle, you decided.
It was a strange feeling. To feel abandoned. Alexia had never made you feel that way before.
Alexia was your safe space. She made you feel loved and made you feel that you mattered.
That Alexia felt like a lifetime ago, like she belonged to another, better version of you—one worthy of her time and effort.
—
The apartment was dark when you got home, but you knew Alexia was here. Her car keys were on the hook, and the shoes she wore earlier were haphazardly placed by the front door.
“Ale?” You let out a wince as you took off your heels, you could feel a blister coming.
As you entered your living room, you found your girlfriend still in her Barcelona sweatshirt passed out on the couch. She looked so at peace that you couldn’t help but pressed a kiss to her forehead.
As much as you hated how she’d been treating you, a part of you still had so much love for her. You knew you deserved better than this version of Alexia, but you didn’t think you had it in you to let her go.
Alexia stirred, not even a guilty look when she opened her eyes and saw you standing there. “Hey, what time is it?”
“Late,” you muttered, walking back to your bedroom. You heard faint footsteps behind you, telling you Alexia was following you. You knew she was watching you, you in your fitted black dress that stopped just above your thigh. It was Alexia’s favourite dress on you, hence why you decided to wear it tonight.
“I… fell asleep,” Alexia’s voice broke the silence. She must’ve realized her mistake then. A part of you broke when she said nothing else, not even an apology.
“That’s fine,” you shrugged. You stripped off your dress and changed into a t-shirt. When you realized it was an old, faded one which belonged to Alexia, you angrily took it off and tossed it aside. This was supposed to be your side of the closet, but over the years, your clothes and Alexia’s have blended together.
“Amor…”
You couldn’t remember the last time Alexia called you that. It used to bring you warmth, but now it only made you feel mocked.
“What, Alexia?” You turned around and the sight of her finally in front of you, of her finally looking at you, made you snap. “It’s not like I waited hours for you, looking like a complete idiota as the waiter kept on checking if I was okay.”
“I didn’t—”
You put a hand up, signaling your girlfriend to stop talking. “Save it, Alexia. You know, I wasn’t even surprised that you didn’t show up. But I thought that your girlfriend’s birthday must count as a special occasion, right? I guess I really do mean nothing to you.”
“Your birthday?” Alexia’s eyes went impossibly wide. 
You laughed, that evil laughter you hear from villains in movies. There wasn’t anything funny. You just felt so pathetic to the point that there wasn’t anything else you could do but laugh at the situation.
Alexia looked like she was close to tears, but you forced yourself to not feel bad for her. She made you feel so much worse these past few weeks.
“I don’t know what I did wrong, Alexia,” you sighed. You knew you were going to lose her after this. There wasn’t going back. “I’ve done nothing but love you unconditionally, but even that seems like it’s not enough for you anymore. It used to be though, so tell me, Alexia, what changed? What did I do to make you stop loving me? We used to be so good.”
The tears were flowing freely down your face. You looked terrible. Your heart was in pieces. It wasn’t a birthday you wanted to remember.
“Ale… If you don’t want me around anymore, the least you could do is tell me. Tell me so I don’t have to wait for you to notice me again. Tell me so I can pack up my bags and leave you alone.”
“It’s not like that,” Alexia finally spoke up, her voice barely a whisper.
“Then what? I feel like I don’t matter to you anymore. You’ve done a great job of showing me that. Forgetting that it’s my birthday is the cherry on top.”
Alexia was crying too, but you didn’t know why she was crying. Guilt, maybe? But this had been going on for some time, why feel guilty now?
“I don’t think I can do this anymore,” you decided, having to force the words out of your mouth. “I know you don’t want to be the one to end things, so I’ll do you a favour.”
This wasn’t what you wanted. You wanted Alexia to fight for you, to prove you wrong. You wanted Alexia to tell you that she was sorry and that she didn’t realize she had been neglecting you. You wanted Alexia to pull you into her arms and not let go. You wanted her to convince you that you were still the love of her life and that she still loved you more than anything.
But Alexia said nothing else and that was all you needed to know.
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heavyhitterheaux ¡ 2 days ago
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Mo' Money Mo' Problems
See Me Through You Blurb
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Synopsis: Asking for help has always been hard for you, but when you aren't left with another option, your recently drafted NFL boyfriend comes to your rescue
Pairing: Boyfriend!Joe Burrow x Girlfriend!Reader
Requested: by a gorgeous anon 😍
Series Masterlist
Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere
Erin looked at you as you sat down across from her and sighed. This had been going on for the past week and you had now given yourself a headache trying to figure out what you were going to do.
“Call your boyfriend.” Erin told you as she threw your phone for you to catch it, but you quickly shook your head no as you caught it before it hit the floor.
“I am not calling him.”
“And why NOT?” She exclaimed and looked at you as if you were crazy.
“Because this is my problem and I'm going to deal with it. I don't have to run to him for every little thing.”
“YOUR BOYFRIEND PLAYS IN THE NFL! AS A QUARTERBACK! Or did you suddenly forget?”
“Just because he plays in the NFL doesn't mean I’m going to take advantage of that.” You said as you crossed your arms.
“Bestie, I love you but you fucking annoy me so much sometimes. So let me ask you this, Joe doesn't have a problem asking you for sex correct?”
“What in the world are you getting at?”
“Answer my question.”
“No, he doesn't.”
“And he fucks you raw simply because you had a fucking pregnancy scare two semesters ago when he won the Heisman.”
“Erin, get to the point already. I was scared out of my damn mind.” You replied as you rolled your eyes.
“My point is that you shouldn't have a problem asking your boyfriend who fucks you raw for money. At the very LEAST like bare minimum he can give you a little cash.”
“I get it but..”
“Uh no you obviously don't. And you know how he is. First thing out of his mouth is going to be why didn't you tell him. I'm convinced that man would drink your bath water if you let him.”
“I swear you get on my nerves.”
“Welp been doing that since we were three and that's not changing any time soon.”
“I don't know. I feel kind of weird asking people for anything. Like not just him and I’ve always been like that.” You said as you got up to go into your kitchen with Erin following close behind.
“It's not like he's going to want you to pay him back. I guarantee you that he'll give it to you without a second thought. You never know unless you try. Surprised he hasn't put your name on the bank account yet.”
“Something is wrong with you.”
“Bitch, don't act like he's not going to put a ring on your finger. Surprised he didn't do it our first semester.” Erin told you as you turned to look in the freezer for ground turkey to make homemade burgers for the two of you.
“Yes, obviously but not yet.”
“He is literally just waiting for you to graduate to do it.”
“And how do you know all this?” You asked as you began to cut up red onion along with some green bell peppers.
“I just do and like I said, he would drink your bath water.”
“Ew, Erin that's nasty.”
“Just calling it like I see it. But if you don't fix this in 48 hours when your rent is due, I'm calling Joe.”
Twenty four hours later you were finally lying down in your bed after a long and exhausting day, your phone rang indicating a facetime call coming through and you rolled over onto the other side to answer it. When your boyfriend's face came into view, you instantly smiled.
“Hi my love.” You quietly said and wrapped yourself tighter in the blankets that were covering you while propping up your phone.
“Hey baby doll. How was your day?” He asked while it looked like he was sitting up against the headboard.
“Hmm, long. I've been up since 4 in the morning. But you know I never pass up an opportunity to talk to you. I miss you.”
“I miss you too and Erin called me.”
“What? Why?”
She literally only gave you 24 hours and not 48 like she promised.
“You tell me. Something going on that I should know about?” Joe asked and you continued to look at him confused.
“Uh, not that I can think of.”
“Let me ask you this then. Have you paid your rent this month for your condo?”
“No and I have no idea why she called you. I told her I would take care of it.”
“Because you miscalculated your bills for this month and they added a whole bunch of fees and you decided to suffer instead of calling your boyfriend for help.”
“I…”
“Is that it?”
“I didn't want to bother you.” You quietly said and Joe just looked at you.
“Seriously? When are you ever bothering me? I have another question for you.”
“Yes?”
“You plan on being with me for a long time, right?”
“Yes.”
“And you know that I'm going to take care of you right? Especially when you graduate and move up here.”
“Yes.”
“So, why wouldn't I take care of you now?”
“I know you will, but if I can do it on my own, I'm going to try to.”
“But I'm here and you don't have to. Aren't you a WAG now?” Joe asked as he smiled at you.
“I want to be the W and not the G.” You replied without skipping a beat.
“Who’s to say that I don't already have your ring?”
“Well, my finger is still bare so? What does that do for me?” You told him as you held it up so he could see your hand.
“Touché, princess.” Joe told you as he smirked.
“Mm hmm, that's what I thought.”
“But next time you come up here we're picking out a house.”
“I…”
“Me and my future wife along with my future kids need a place to live so we can start looking. Or we can have it built, your choice."
“And a new car, mine is on its last leg.”
“Name it and it's yours. That goes for whatever else you want to.”
“NO! I'm going to get it! You are not going bankrupt buying someone who is not even your wife expensive things.”
“You ARE my wife; it's just not on paper yet.” He told you as he shrugged while your cheeks began to heat up.
“Babeeeee.”
“What? I'm not saying anything that isn't true. And besides, I'm not spending any money from my contract. Just my endorsement deals. But back to our original problem, you're good for the rest of the year.”
“I… JOEY! That was like 4,000 dollars!”
“Money is not a factor when it comes to you. If you need it, I'm getting it. So can we move on?”
"Fine, while I have you in a giving mood, I want an elephant." You replied and Joe simply gave you a blank stare.
"Best I can do is the Cincinatti Zoo, you gotta work with me here."
"Well, you said 'name it and it's yours'."
"Baby, I meant within reason and an elephant is not within reason."
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he-i-mean-they ¡ 2 days ago
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“Now I wanted to say something about the fact that we have lived over these last two or three summers with agony and we have seen our cities going up in flames. And I would be the first to say that I am still committed to militant, powerful, massive, non­-violence as the most potent weapon in grappling with the problem from a direct action point of view. I'm absolutely convinced that a riot merely intensifies the fears of the white community while relieving the guilt. And I feel that we must always work with an effective, powerful weapon and method that brings about tangible results. But it is not enough for me to stand before you tonight and condemn riots. It would be morally irresponsible for me to do that without, at the same time, condemning the contingent, intolerable conditions that exist in our society. These conditions are the things that cause individuals to feel that they have no other alternative than to engage in violent rebellions to get attention. And I must say tonight that a riot is the language of the unheard. And what is it America has failed to hear? It has failed to hear that the plight of the negro poor has worsened over the last twelve or fifteen years. It has failed to hear that the promises of freedom and justice have not been met. And it has failed to hear that large segments of white society are more concerned about tranquility and the status quo than about justice and humanity.”
From his speech The Other America by MLK Jr
(This is a link to read the full speech)
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gguk-n ¡ 2 days ago
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heyy could you maybe pls write a charles x reader fanfic where she is a doctor and they met bc he has a broken dick 😭😭
OMG!! This ask is haunting me bc if a hospital finds out you are with your patient, too many issues🤣🤣. Also, it's unethical, power imbalance😳😳 ig. Anyways, I tried not to think too literally.
Unethical
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Charles Leclerc was a Formula One driver for Scuderia Ferrari. Charles Leclerc was Monegasque. Charles Leclerc had recently broken up. Charles Leclerc was stressed. Charles Leclerc couldn't get an erection.
Charles was extremely embarrassed with what he was dealing with. He broke up with his girlfriend because of having erectile problems. He couldn't believe he was having to deal with it in his twenties. He wasn't sure what was the cause; he was supposedly fit, he ate well, he had fun when he wanted. But right now, he wasn't sure why he wasn't able to stay hard. This was a conversation he had with his older brother, who laughed at him first and then told him to see a doctor. Charles knew he had to see a doctor but he didn't want to.
After much pressure from his brother and mother, who Lorenzo informed as soon as he had found out. So, now Charles was sat at the clinic waiting his turn, surrounded by many men in their later years waiting their turn. Charles looked around and made contact with a few men who would tisk as they made eye contact with him. Charles wanted the ground to swallow him.
"Mr Leclerc, you're next" the receptionist called out. Charles stood up and followed her to the room. "Have a seat, the doctor will be here soon" she said, robotically and left Charles in the room.
When Charles thought he would see a doctor for his dick, he thought it would be some man in his fifties but a man nonetheless but right now, stood in front of him one of the prettiest girls he's seen in a while. She was gorgeous and Charles may have wanted the ground to swallow him then, but now he wanted it for real.
"Hello, I'm Dr Y/L/N. You must be Charles Leclerc?" she greeted. Charles quietly nodded. "If it's okay, can I call you Charles?" she asked and he nodded. "Could you confirm your age?" she asked again. "27" he replied. Charles was rubbing his hands up and down as the pretty doctor smile at him. "So, Charles, I see you're here because you aren't able to hold an erection?" she asked. Charles wanted to run away, but he held his head down. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about Charles. I'm here to help you. If you could answer some questions for me. I'll try to help you the best I can" she reassured.
After a while, and answering multiple questions Charles felt at ease. He wasn't sure why he was this scared. "From what you've told me Charles, I think it's probably stress induced. So, I'll refer you to a psychologist and they should be able to help you. If it doesn't improve, please do come back" she instructed Charles. Charles nodded along as she wrote down some stuff and handed him a paper. "Thank you" Charles said taking the paper. She just smiled, "Bye Charles" she said preparing to leave.
"Dr Y/L/N" Charles called out as she opened the door. She turned around to look at him, "When's your...um...shift end?" he asked rubbing his neck. It had taken a lot for Charles to ask her but her face was apologetic; "I'm sorry Charles. But that won't be possible" she spoke slowly. "Why? Are you taken?" he rambled. "Charles I can't date my patient" she stated and walked out. Charles walked out with shoulders slumped.
Charles got treated. He didn't have any issues with his dick. But he wasn't able to see Dr Y/L/N after that until he was back home and visiting his mother salon. That's when he saw her, sat on one of the chairs getting her hair done. "I have a son. He's great, drives for Ferrari" his mother boasted. "Maybe you two could go out some time" she suggested. She just laughed, "I'm sure he'll fancy a model." "No" Charles interrupted suddenly. She looked at him shocked. "I'm not you patient anymore" was the first thing he said after a while. "I know" she muttered. "Will you go out with me? You won't regret it" he said biting his lower lip. "Okay" she nodded. His mother was smiling at them, shaking her head.
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peachesofteal ¡ 12 hours ago
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I know Azriel has amassed a ton of wealth over centuries from doing the dirtiest work, and rarely spends it. He's never really had a need to. Of course, he buys gifts for his family, covers tabs at Rita's, buys himself things, essentials, etc but when it comes to spending for enjoyment or spending to indulge, it just doesn't happen.
He's not looking for reasons, either, until he literally stumbles into one.
You trip and fall into him in the Palace of Thread and Jewels. Trip over something on the ground, get twisted up, and flail forward, right into his path. You're rose and pink pepper, floral, sharp, sweet in a way he cannot fathom, and he doesn't think before stopping your fall. He just reacts, grabbing you around the arms and pulling you upright, holding you steady as you recalibrate your balance, looking up into his face, eyes shining bright like the stars. They're brilliant, full of life, but lined with an undercurrent of stress, of worry, he does not understand.
You're fumbling over an apology as he studies you, scrutinizing every detail on your face, down to the chap of your lips.
He's never seen a High Fae look so... off before, and they're not known to be clumsy.
"Are you alright?" It's polite to inquire, he assures himself, it's the right thing to do.
"I'm fine," you smile but it doesn't touch your eyes, "thanks. Sorry about that. I wasn't watching where I was going." He's unsure what to say next but before he can come up with something, you're giving him a quick thank you, and then disappearing into market.
He thinks about you that night. Wonders about you, as he stares at the bedroom ceiling. You obviously weren't well. Maybe he should have done more. It's his duty, isn't it? To Velaris? To care for it and its citizens, to protect them. Or at least, you. Do something to care for you, protect you.
He's not sure what to do, so he pushes the lingering questions from his mind.
And then the following week, he sees you at Rita's.
You're waiting tables, waltzing across the floor delivering drinks with a smile, the same one that slips away as soon as you're out of sight. Your shoulders slump as you stand at the corner of the bar, covering your mouth with your palm, yawning into it again and again.
Maybe he should do something, maybe you need a healer, maybe he could help-
No. He shouldn't. You probably wouldn't want him to, anyway. Right?
He shakes it off, tries to shake you off but can't stop himself from watching every step you take, trying to diagnose the problem.
It takes too long for it to click.
You're not sick, or clumsy.
You're exhausted, and it makes him irrationally angry, fills him with a need to drag you away from Rita's and tuck you up into a house somewhere, a place you'll never have to lift a finger again if you so choose. A place where you could be taken care of-
maybe even by him.
It takes him very little time to find the ramshackle duplex you live in on the outskirts of town, the roof too sloped, the wooden steps too rotted, the siding too loose.
It makes him uneasy, makes his skin crawl. Why are you here, in a place like this? Who has allowed this?
Why does a place like this even exist when Velaris has such wealth?
He begins to play a game, and at first, he tells himself it's to make himself feel better, that he's doing it for selfish reasons.
It's winter, and you don't have gloves, so he buys a pair and the shadows deposit them on your front step, and it makes the sick feeling in his stomach go away. For a few days.
When it returns, he buys you a hat, and this time, he delivers it himself, eager to see your reaction.
He doesn't expect to see the gloves still sitting on the porch, and he frowns. Did you not see them? Did you not like them? He leaves the hat at their side and lurks on the roof of the house across from yours, hiding in shadow, in wait.
The sun is still rising when you leave for your first job of the day, and you stop short at the sight of the hat. He perks up, expecting to see you relax with relief, or happiness, but is left confused when you hold the hat in your hands for a moment, reverently tracing the stitching, before dropping it back next to the gloves.
Why? You need these things. They're being given anonymously, alleviating some of awkwardness of accepting gifts, and he had hoped it would spare you from feelings of obligation or embarrassment. Perhaps you are too proud, he wonders, but shadows echo a different sentiment, one of distrust, of wariness.
The gifts scare you.
The guilt churns the bile in his stomach, and he flexes his fingers into fists before flying away, cursing himself the whole way home.
Idiot.
You're very surprised when he approaches you on your walk from the Palace to Rita's, so much so that you jerk to a dead stop, staring at him with your mouth dropped open as he tries to explain he has something to give you.
Yes, he knows you don't know him. Yes, he's aware how strange this is.
Yes, you will be taking this scarf whether you like it or not.
"I'm sorry?"
"This is for you." He extends the scarf towards you, holding his breath. Your eyes narrow.
"Have you been leaving things on my porch?"
"Yes." There's no point in lying. He's standing here trying to gift you a scarf, for Cauldron's sake.
"Why?" Your voice is tight, anxious, and he wishes there was a way he could reassure you without frightening you further.
"You needed them." It comes off as arrogant, but he doesn't care. He's getting to the point where he's past caring, where he's past watching you freeze and work yourself to the bone. His jaw is clenched so tight the muscles are straining, and it takes effort to steady his voice. "You're freezing."
"I-"
"I want you to have this." Just take it. The shadows skitter around him, trawling across the brick to where you stand, and you glance at them briefly, surprisingly unafraid, before looking back at him. He expects a fight, some kind of resistance, but it's all been bled dry. The only thing he sees is defeat, and it stings. You're suffering, you're suffering and he's got everything he could ever want, material wise, and then some. "Please," he murmurs, stepping forward, and you shake your head.
"I shouldn't."
"It's just a gift, I don't expect anything in return."
"You say that now." Your voice trembles. Anger cracks like lightning through his veins. Is this what you fear? A transaction? An exchange for help? There are only so many things one could want in a situation like this, and all of the them fill him with rage.
"I promise you," his voice is steel, firm and unrelenting, "I want nothing in return."
"You promise." It's not a question, and you won't meet his gaze, but he pushes on.
"I do." You reach for it hesitantly and wrap it around your neck, tucking your chin into the softly spun wool, cheeks lifting in a very small, shy smile. Good girl.
He chose perfectly. It complements your skin, your eyes, illuminates your already striking beauty.
"I... thank you. This is really nice. It's lovely." The shadows hum, and he secretly preens, the warmth in his chest spreading as you tell him your name.
"I'm Azriel," he says in return, and you nod.
"I know." You sigh, and look past him, down the street to where he knows your work awaits. "I have to go."
Or he could take you. It's tempting, so, so tempting. It's wicked, and rotten, but satisfying at the same time, and it soothes the reckless pieces of him calling out to you.
No. He shouldn't. He settles on a different course instead.
"I'll see you soon." Your brow furrows.
"You will?" He nods, spreading his wings, preparing to launch into the sky, pleased by how you marvel at them.
"And you'll wear both the gloves and hat when you're outside from now on." Your lips part with surprise. "Yes?" It takes a beat, and then two-
"Yes."
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shoresoftheshadowlands ¡ 1 day ago
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For me this is part of my aversion to small-talk and verbal chatting. If its in text, I can usually glance back right away at what was said. When its verbal, I have to struggle so hard and I get headaches quickly trying to hold everything together. It isn't anything against anyone trying to talk to me, it's just I cannot follow it, especially if people are talking too slow, or being too roundabout on what they're trying to convey, which I know is part of the art of small talk. I know its an important skill to have, but damn, it sucks.
It's even worse when it isn't small talk but some kind of lecture I'm getting for some reason, especially when it's complete BS (I live in a household of far rights, if you know you know), or if it's something that is a non issue that, for some reason 'today', it is suddenly their problem (For example, I organize the space behind my desk in a way that works for ME. It is in MY room which I pay rent for. It may look disorganized at first glance but isn't actually messy. Got a lecture today about how I must clean up and organize and so on because partner is coming to visit.
And I basically just said 'Look, this is organized in a way that works for me,' (I did not bother trying to explain how or why it does because it wouldn't matter in the long run trust me) and I explained that anything that does need tidying up I've already begun working on (Which she did not notice whatsoever, and instead got on my ass about 'all the dishes and stuff' which are clean, or was a take out container I'd only just been using moments prior to her walking in so it wasn't like it was sitting here moldy) Queue the 'Well I know you love me but I am beginning to suspect you don't like me very much!' because I am short and to the point and we've done this dance countless times and I'm so tired. I say 'While I'm gone please DO NOT DECORATE MY ROOM FOR ME.'
I come home. Wow, looks like my room is decorated! And there's nick-nacks and shit in place of where my things need to go! Great! I hate it! Exactly what I asked you not to do! COOL! I'm so glad you value your 37 year old disabled adult child's wishes and boundaries!
But even trying to maintain a conversation about it, verbally because her reading comprehension is shit and she doesn't understand what I'm saying even when I write it down very clearly, we are always at an impass of 'wow this lecture is going on for so long I don't even know how we started' or 'nod and agree, it will be over sooner'
the curse of adhd:
i will remember with absolute clarity, when the thought strikes me that i have a text to send someone, that this is the fourth time in three days i've attempted to send this specific text
i will forget, in the time it takes me to pick up my phone, that i picked it up intending to send a text
44K notes ¡ View notes
kari-sims ¡ 2 days ago
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Tomiko Moriyama (she/they) as my entry for the Total Drama Sims season 3 by @jonquilyst!! (thanks for letting me participate <3)
also huge wall of slightly amusing text below the cut (you've been warned!) cause i was caffeinated and ended up having some fun with this ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻)
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👩 Age: 14 🪐 Lives in: Strangerville 🐛 Goals in life: to open a bug museum 💖 Orientation: thinks girls are cute, but doesn't want to waste their short teen years chasing them around (that's what the 20's are for!) 🎶 Hidden talent: encyclopedic knowledge of kpop girl group's songs and dances 🥇 Honorable titles: -> 'Mighty Collector of the Fun Hats' -> 'Prestigious Ambassador' at the ''International Bug Diplomacy Federation'' (only actual human member, but it'll grow, just wait!) 👍Likes: iridescent beetles / cut rock hard candy / slippery mud you can draw on / putting googly eyes on random things 👎 Dislikes: homework / cleaning things that'll get dirty again / humans evil bug killing inventions (unless it's a laser shooting death ray gun for mosquitoes, cause yeah, even a bug loving girl hates those bastards!)
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[RECORD 434, another sunny day in strange Strangerville]
🔴 ▶ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|•
(sound of someone clearing their throat, followed by what's obviously a kid trying to speak in an exaggerated deep voice)
Tomiko: "Tomiko is a girl who didn't need a home with walls or windows - the roof to her 'home' has always been the sky above." (pauses, mutters to themselves) Ooh that's a good one! Wait, people will think i live in the woods, no? Wouldn't that be the dream…
(moment of silence as Tomiko daydreams, then remembers she just started recording)
"Tomiko doesn't have many friends, because she was destined to be a free-spirited loner. With the exception of Clarisse, a girl who dreams ofbecoming a marine biologist. Clarisse was made fun of by strangers on a dumb internet show she went to one day, all because she wanted to win the money and go on a trip to Sulani. Now everyone calls her the 'Dolphin Girl'. After Tomiko decided to console her at lunch in school, both of them ended up bonding over their crazy obssession with nature. They've been inseparable friends ever since."
(another pause, followed by an audible sigh)
"Well, they were inseparable, until Tomiko moved away. Now Clarisse is being weird for no reason... anyways, where was i?
(forgets why they went on a Clarisse tangent and starts to fumble with their unorganized notes)
"Oh yes, destined to be a free-spirited loner, ya-da ya-da. Unfortunately, Tomiko was forced to live in a boring house made of bricks, with white furniture, and a mom who was always mad about her muddy boots on the carpet."
(voice shifts to mimic the mom's screech)
- I'm not gonna raise a savage wild child! Since you love dirt so much, go live with your bum of a father in that Strangerplace world, or whatever it's called.
"Best thing to ever happen to me!" (voice switches to normal accidentally, then goes back to the fake deep one) - I mean - best thing to ever happen to Tomiko! Even though her dad looks kinda weird lately, walking around aimlessly at night in search of his mother. Classic dad, being a weirdo. No idea how this man got married..."
- Dad, I told you grandma still lives in Willow Creek. Why do you think she's in the middle of the desert? Also, she wouldn't be caught dead wasting away her fabulous heels in this god-forsaken place.
"Tomiko pretends she doesn't see it, because now she can do whatever she wants, why complicate things? The only problem is, there isn't much to do in Strangerville with the infection rumors going on, and all the damn sus soldiers. Also, the taste of travelling for the first time has left her wanting to see more. Imagine all the bugs she could find?! But you need money for that, sooo… what to do, what to do…"
(voice returns to normal, a bit defensive)
"Okay, fine, I'm the one recording this… (sighs) I know what you're thinking - "just steal from your dad!". Seriously, who do you think I am? Anyways, I did something else instead. I heard there's this competition with other teens where you get to travel the world, and guess what? I signed up for it! Without my parents knowing, of course, but that is irrelevant. They won't even notice I'm gone, I fear. I just hope the organizers don't ask for their permission, because Clarisse was the one who knew how to fake signatures, but now she's hanging out with other kids at school, and thinks she's better than me."
(inhales, then proceeds to speak loudly at a wall, probably)
"Like... Nina? The enemy? Be so for real right now Clarisse! My life is just grand without you! I'll get to travel the world and educate people on how bugs are friends, and definitely NOT disgusting or too dangerous! Well, most times. I'll also prove that even if you're a weird bug loving kid like me, you can still have a chance at a game that requires you to make friends. It'll be eaaasy! In a few weeks I'll be like, Clarisse who? Hahah!"
(brief pause on their flex-rant, which is totally NOT a defense mechanism because she's hurt by them growing apart. They return, slightly worried)
"Do you think I can die in there? Cause gosh, let's hope not! Imagine going on an adventure of a lifetime and not being able to tell people about your heroic deeds... that'd be so lame! Anyways, I'll see you when I see you, whoever is listening to this… Tomi out!"
🟥 ▶ •ııııııııııııııııı•
[RECORD ENDS]
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wow if you're still here, thanks for reading, you wonderful bean! here, have a cute snail
(´・ᴗ・)>~🐌
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littlefanficprincess ¡ 3 days ago
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Wine Red
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──────────── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──────────────
Movie! Shadow x gn! Reader
Word count: 3,5K
Synopsis: You find Shadow after he crashed down to earth (again)
(A/n): ‼️Spoilers for Sonic 3 and the first after credits scene‼️
──────────── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──────────────
"The Wheel Of Fortune...The High Priestess...and The Lovers!" A hand flips around three tarot cards, naming each one. "Follow your intuition and you will meet your fated one!".
A (animal) mobian lets out an amused sigh, leaning on their hand. "Rosy, you've been giving me readings since you discovered it and each time I get the same fortune".
Amy smiles, placing her hands on the table. "That means it is definitely true!" She exclaims, excitedly. She gathers her cards back into the pile and picks three from them. "Alright...The Chariot...The Sun and...The Lovers! Yes!".
"So you have to go out and find the one?" (Y/n) guesses, having a bit of knowledge of it because of their friend. They watch the pink Hedgehog do a victory dance.
"What do you think fits me the best" Amy strolls over to her closet. She places a green hairband on her head, turning to (Y/n). "It matches my eyes, but I'm not sure" She tosses it off when she sees her friend shaking their head.
"Black? Not my style. Pink? Blends too much with my quills. Orange? Clashes too much. Blue?" She places a blue hairband on her head, adjusting it to be comfortable.
(Y/n) gets up and walks up to the Hedgehog. They gently remove the hairband from her. "Baby blue is not your color, maybe a brighter blue. But I think red fits you the best" They suggest.
"You're saying that because you love red" Amy takes the band from their hands and placing it on their head. "I think it suits you more".
"Thanks Rosy" (Y/n) smiles, brushing their hands against the headband.
"No problem!" The girl replies, placing a red head on her own head. "Now let's go find them" She turns to the empty pinboard, tapping her bottom lip. "Now to pin down their location" she tapes a drawing of planets in the board and throws a dart at it. It lands on a round blue and green planet.
(Y/n) walks over and looks at the small text underneath the planet. "Eeth? Uth? Ert...Earth Earth, like dirt?" They read outloud. "It looks pretty big, it's possibly gonna take ages when you finally find him".
"I am also prepared for that" Amy removes the drawing and places a map of earth. She throws another dart, almost hitting (Y/n)'s head. It lands on a big piece of land on the left side, in bold letters it says "UNITED STATES".
Immediately, Amy speeds around the room. She stuffs clothes, toothbrush, hairbrush, her harmer into a suitcase. She stood on it, trying to make it fit.
"Amy, Amy, hold on" (Y/n) places their hand on her shoulder. "You can't just rush to a planet you don't even know to find the one and how are you supposed to know it's them. Remember last time you went off, I had to go get you and bandage you up"
Amy seemed to deflate at (Y/n)'s argument, her smiles turns to a pout. She turns to her friend, giving them puppy eyes. Her puppy eyes were quite effective, challenging Cream's ones.
Giving in, (Y/n) sighs. "How about this: I go to Earth and see if it is safe for you to travel there" They offer, just wanting the best for their friend.
"Thank you, thank you!" The pink mobian exclaims, hugging the (animal). She was extremely grateful they would do this for her.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
"Already traveling to other planets, They're growing up so fast" Vector wipes his tears with a hankerchief, blowing his nose with it.
"They aren't that much younger than you" Espio calls him out. He turns to (Y/n) "Be careful".
Amy, along with their other friends stand next to eachother. They bid the (animal) goodbye, the mobians know they will be gone for a while, so they want to give a well made goodbye.
"You beter bring me a souvenir back!" Charmy requests, pulling at (Y/n)'s arm. He was pulled off by Vector, who was still crying.
Vanilla approaches the (f/c) (animal), placing a container in their hands. "I made some cake for the journey, I hope you will enjoy it" The two hug, before letting go.
Out of nowhere, (Y/n) feels something clinging to their leg. Looking down, they were met with Cream. She looked like she was about to cry, making (Y/n)'s heart melt. "You're gonna come back, right?"
The teen mobian smiles, patting the small rabbit's head. "Ofcourse, I promise" They nod. They walk to the spaceship as Cream lets go. (Y/n) gives a final wave, before stepping inside.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
The ship flies down, crashing in the woods. The door was the ship creaks open. Come out crawling was (Y/n), letting out little grunts of pain. They push themself up, grabbing their bag and putting it onto their bag. "So this is earth, quite tall trees they have here".
They travel through the forrest, trying to find a good place to set up camp. Soon, find a small cave, big enough to sleep and leave her stuff. As they put down their back, they hear a tapping sound. They turn to the entrance, finding water fall from the sky. "Water?" Slowly, they walk over to the edge of the cave, holding out their hand. They feel the droplets fall onto their palm "Woah, so beautiful".
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
After countless journeys, the cave resembled more like a home. In the back sat a bed with a pillow and two blankets. At the side stood a wobbly table with a flower pot on it, a framed picture next to it of them and Amy. And finally hanging around were fairy lights they found in a trashcan.
(Y/n) sat ontop, living their legs back and forth. Their (e/c) eyes latch onto something what they assume is a comet flying across the midnight sky. It crashes down not too far away from the (animal)'s hideout.
They jump down, before rushing over where it landed. Pushing aside leaves of the trees, they gaze as the mysterious object from the sky. Light flickers from a crater, before it dims completely. They peek over to see what it was and...
"A hedgehog?"
A hedgehog with black and red quills, a patch of white fur on his chest. He was wearing white black and red gloves and shoes. Laying next to him were two slightly burned golden bracelets and a big green emerald.
Carefully, (Y/n) wraps the gem from the ground. They tense up as their feel a weird ticklish and prickly feeling go through her veins. "Woah" They mutter. They turns back to look at the hedgehog, finding that he was wounded.
They stuff the emerald and rings in their bag. Putting an arm under his knees and his back, struggling to hold him up. "Is he the one Amy is looking for?" They think outloud, walking back to their cave with the hedgehog in their arms.
Once they arrived, they lay the stranger on their bed pulling first aid kit from under the unstable table. They sit down on the mattress next to the hedgehog, taking a roll of bandage. They lift his head with one hand and wrapping his head with their other one. They continue with his other wounds, being as careful as they could be.
Not having much else to do, they lay the pillow and one of the blankets on the floor next to the bed. They lay down, pulling the blanket over their body. With that, they close their eyes and let their consciousness fade away.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Shadow's eye began to open, finding himself staring at rocks above him. He lets out a grunt of pain, feeling his head stinging. He tries to remember what happened, but his mind was left foggy.
"Oh, you're awake, that's good to see. I am surprised you're bot out longer, by the fact you literally crashed to earth"
A voice chirps, a sweet one. He turns his head, seeing a figure standing next to the bed he was one. They were slightly blurry as his red eyes still try to readjust to the bright light behind them. What he was able to make out was a a light blue headband resting on the person's head. "Maria..?" He groans.
"(Y/n), actually" The person corrects, with a soft smile. "(Y/n) the (animal). Nice to meet you. You got a name, stranger?" Their voice echoes through his mind, like a broken record.
"Maria, what happene–" He sits and gets up from the bed. He stumbles, almost falling over. Luckily, (Y/n) catched him before he could. He gazes down, finding part of arms bandaged up.
Carefully, (Y/n) pushes him back on the bed. "You shouldn't go walking off yet. Just because you're up early doesn't mean you get go dancing around like that. Please, just go rest" They suggest to the hedgehog. His behavior reminded them of Amy, how stubborn she always was after getting injured.
Shadow looks over to a barely stable table on the left. A picture frame, a flower pot and a big green emera– "Ah!" Shadow cries, gripping his head. Images flashes across his mind: Gerald Robotnik, a younger looking version of the doctor, blue, red, yellow and finally an explosion.
The (f/c) mobian frowns, pitying the Stranger. He has probably been through a lot, ofcourse be doesn't own them his story. "If you some quiet, I'll let you be" They propose, letting out a little sigh. They turn around, ready to leave the cave. They were stopped by the hedgehog grabbing their hand.
"I want you just stay, my head feels more at ease when you're near" He mumbles, avoiding their eyes. He feels them sitting down next to him, he had to stop himself from leaning into them. He wondered what the loose ties in his mind meant., trying to follow them made him want to scratch his own skin off.
"Can I finally know your name. I know I don't owe it, but I can't just call you 'hedgehog'" (Y/n) mentions, turning to the other.
"But you already know it, M–" Shadow shakes his head, responding with "My name is Shadow". He looks down at his gloves, finding something missing. "Where are my limiters?" He questions with urgency in his voice.(Y/n) reaches into her bag and takes the two golden rings from. "These one?" They ask, holding them for him to grab.
Snatching the slightly burned bracelets from their hands, Shadow snaps them around his wrists. He lets out a huff of relief as his finger trace the rim of it.
"It's nice to put a name to the face. I must say I quite like your eyes, they remind me of jaspers" (Y/n) compliments, glancing at the emerald and then back at the hedgehog's eyes.
Shadow pauses, before speaking up. "Your eyes are nice aswell, I suppose. They look like..." He trails off, realising he didn't know much gems. "They feel comforting" He mutters under his breath, just loud enough for (Y/n) to hear.
They didn't say anything, just kept staring. They noticed he was a bit cold and hesitant, but they didn't mind. It was the best to wait until he was ready to tell them what happened before he crashed into the woods.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Sigh
Tap tap tap
The sound of footsteps makes (Y/n) stir awake. They sit up, looking over to see Shadow standing the entrance of the cave, holding onto rock for stability. They notice he was just staring up at the sky, muttering something to himself.
Getting up, they quietly walk over to him. They hear him let out a hum, acknowledging their presence. "The stars shine so brightly. Usually not a lot of people see them, by the time they appear, everyone is sound asleep" Shadow mummers, not taking his eyes off of a particular star. "You're not Maria, I see that now. My mind was so fragmented, it merged my old memories with my vision"
"So that is why you called me that" (Y/n) concludes, thinking back to all the times he called her that name. "Are you finally going to tell me what happened to you? now that you got your memories back" They ask.
"My name is Shadow, project shadow. I was found in a meteor and was brought by a company called GUN. The lead researcher was Gerald Robotnik, his granddaughter, Maria, resided there aswell. Robotnik tried finding a cure for her illness through me, I began bonding with her" A barely visible smile appeared on his face as he tells the story, but is quickly fell as he continued.
"GUN wanted to take me away, Robotnik couldn't handle it. He tried escaping with me and Maria, Maria got killed in the crossfire. The doctor was arrested and I was frozen for fifty years. After that he got me out of there, bringing his grandson along. They wanted to blow up the Earth, but a blue hedgehog made me realise that that wasn't what Maria would've wanted. With the power of the master emerald, we steered the weapon away from Earth. The hedgehog was saved by his friends, I wasn't so lucky. I crashed down at that was where you found me"
"That is quite the story, Shadow. I was surprised to see another mobian here, but you tell me there is another one or even more. So are you going to leave now that your wounds were healed and your memories are back?" The (animal) inquires, kicking a rock near them. They wonder what the other hedgehog and his friends are like.
Shadow thinks, giving a quick look at the cave and then back to the sky. "I am grateful for everything you've done for me. It is probably too much to ask for shelter. I have nowhere to stay, I am not expecting Sonic to welcome me with open arms".
"Ofcourse you can stay" (Y/n) answer with hesitation, shuffling a bit closer to the hedgehog. "We should get another bed, cause no way one of us is going to sleep on the ground. Feel free to bring your own stuff in here, I won't mind sharing my cozy cave" They turn around to look at their home, with their hand on their hips. They already imagine the cave being filled more stuff, perhaps they could even find a better place to live.
(Y/n) pulls out their Snappie, unlocking it. "Hey, how about we do a shot for our first official day as cavemates" They suggest, holding up their device.
"A shot? Like alcohol?" Shadow repeats with a raised eyebrow. He eyes the object, confusion in his gaze.
The other mobian shakes their head, answering "No, it is short for a snapshot. Me and my best friend always made by special moments or just when were having fun, to make memories. These things can only make photos and send text, but I'm only able send photos to her"
They pull Shadow close as they raise their Snappie into the air. "Smile!" They grin, closing their eyes. As if magic, Shadow does as they say, having a small smile on face. They might not be Maria, but he doesn't mind. (Y/n) snaps the picture, not realising they weren't very visible on it because of how dark it was.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Hours...Days...weeks passed by.
The cave grew fuller and resembled more like a home. Shadow mostly stayed in the cave, hesitant to leave it. (Y/n) actually caught him sleeping in their bed, which he denies ever happened. (Y/n) once spotted the fast blue hedgehog when looking for for food, but he sped before they could reach him.
One day, Shadow and (Y/n) were walking in the forrest. (Y/n) held the other's hand tightly, Shadow couldn't help but glance at it from time to time. They stop when they hear laughing and talking, it seemed like it was coming not too far away. The (f/c) (animal) leads their friend along with them as they talk closer, making sure not to make a sound.
(Y/n)'s eyes widen as they see Sonic, along with two humans, two mobians and a weird creature that walks on four legs. A red echidna and a yellow fox with two tails, quite a unique pair. "We should go say hi" (Y/n) says, about to walk through a bush infront of them.
But they were stopped by Shadow pulling them back, shaking his head. "We can't just bardge in there, they dont even know you" He argues. He sees how happy the other hedgehog seemed, making him feel envy. He was just getting close to (Y/n), he didn't want to risk losing her aswell.
They went back and forth, (Y/n) trying to pull away and Shadow pulling them back. But (Y/n) accidentally pulls a little too hard and pulls Shadow with them. Their body hit the ground with a small 'oof', they look up to see Shadow's face. His hands on were each side of their head and his knees were caging their legs, trying to not to fall into them
"Um, am I interuppting something?" A voice chimes, making the two freeze. Looking down at them was none other than Sonic, who came to check out the noise. He should've been surprised about Shadow being alive. But his attention was more towards the mentioned hedgehog was hovering above a (animal) he didn't regonise, not to mention close to where he was camping with his family.
Shadow quickly gets up and turns his head, hiding the blush he gotten from embarasment. It was one thing be get so close to his friend, it's another thing to be caught in that position by Sonic.
"You're Sonic, right?" (Y/n) pushes themselves up, brushing the dirt off of them. "I've heared a lot about you, it's great to finally meet you. I hope you don't mind if I and shadow join you guys"
"Ofcourse I don't mind, always great to meet a fan" Sonic scratches the back of his neck, grinning. He turns to the black and red hedgehog "We have a lot to catch up on". He walks back, motioning for the two to follow after him.
(Y/n) was about to go after him, when they notice Shadow didn't move a muscle. They exhale, approaching their friend. Their hands grasps those belonging to Shadow, tracing the back of his hands with their thumbs. "I know you have trouble connecting, but I want to make more friends to connect with and rely on".
Taking in their words, Shadow hesitantly nods. He lets them drag him through the bush and to where the group was. "Hey there" (Y/n) greets, waving.
Their voice takes the attention of the two humans and mobians. The human and fox's Jaws dropped, the latter dropping his marshmallow into the fire. "I win!" The echidna cheers, raising his marsmellow on a stick in the air. He notices that the others were staring at something, so he follows their gaze. After like a month of thinking Shadow died, he stood there infront of them.
"How did you survive the explosion o-or even the earth atmosphere, me and Sonic only barely got to safety thanks to Knuckles" Tails stutters, remembering Knuckles using a ring last second to teleport them away.
Shadow crosses his arms. "I am the ultimate life form, I won't be killed that easily" He pauses. "After I crashed, (Y/n) took me in and cared for me" He adds, glancing at the mentioned creature next to him.
Feeling the attention drawn to them, (Y/n) perks. "Oh, right, I should probably introduce myself. I am (Y/n) the (animal), nice to meet you all" They mention, smiling. They reach into their bag and pulls out the big emerald. "I found this near Shadow, do you know wha–"
"THE MASTER EMERALD!"
The echidna stands up (after chomping his marshmallow) and walks up to (Y/n) with his hands out. (Y/n) places the green gem in his grasp, looking up at the tall mobian. He nods at them with gratitude, which (Y/n) does aswell.
"Snappie?" The (f/c) (animal) turns to Shadow. Before he could answer, a voice chimes.
"Snappie? Like snapshot?" Tails asks, tilting his head.
"Yeah!"
After some talking, with (Y/n) pushing Shadow to speak to the others. They gather around as (Y/n) raises her device into the air, taking a photo.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
DING
Amy snatches her Snappie from her bedside table, unlocking it. She taps on (Y/n)'s contact, finding they had send a photo. It was them with four other mobians, her eyes widen when she notices a blue hedgehog.
"It's him!"
──────────── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──────────────
Watching Stonik tiktoks while wiping my tears.
271 notes ¡ View notes
sucodelaranja86 ¡ 2 days ago
Note
Baking n shared kisses w Hyun-Ju perchance?😇
- baking with Hyun-ju : ★
featuring: hyun-ju cho x reader
summary: money is getting tight, so your girlfriend is teaching you how to bake a cake for your upcoming birthday.
warnings: none.
genre: fluff
A/N: This request is so cute what ;33
★ . ★ . ★ . ★
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➤ "No, no, no. You don't stir with a metal spoon."
You were currently getting scolded for your 3rd error that night. Baking shouldn't be that hard! You had bought the idea of making your own cake as a way of saving for some money for your upcoming birthday, but it seemed baking was just not for you.
"Cmon, Hyun-ju! Everything i do is 'wrong' or 'not right' now?" you objected, already annoyed with how many times she had corrected you in just the making of the icing.
"It is if you don't do it right." she affirmed, her voice a bit stern. She then continued, "And you're the one who asked me to teach you, baking a cake is not the hardest thing to do. i could simply bake one for you without a problem."
"You're just saying that because you're naturally talented." you alleged, trying to get on her good side after having nagged her all night.
"Didn't you say you were having a hard time finding a job? Maybe you could just stay at home while i wor- ouch! What was that for?" you chanted in an exaggerated furious tone after receiving a slight slap to your nape.
"If you're trying to flatter me, it's not working." she retoned with a sigh, finishing picking up the necessary ingredients. After a few seconds, she added. "Now hurry up. If you're having a hard time with the easiest part, then you're not gonna last much longer."
-
After giving the icing part to her, you followed her directions to the hilt (mainly to not get slapped again). You started by pre-hesting tue oven, and then started mixing the ingredients in a separate bowl for the batter. Eggs, milk, butter, flour, sugar, baking powder... This was kind of fun!
You added a bit of vanilla to the mix, smelling already a good scent coming from the bowl. However, your thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a sudden peck to your lips, surprising you for a second.
You look up to see Hyun-ju smilling satisfied at you."See? When you follow my orders correctly, things don't go wrong." she gently assured you. However, she could notice your dream-stuck face, and an idea immediately popped into her head.
"There is much more where this one came from. If i notice you are doing it right, i might reward you, lovely." she whispered teasingly while giving your nose a playful bop, getting it a bit dirty from flour.
"Yes, ma'am!"
-
"It burned a little..." you mutter disappointingly, turning you head up to look at Hyun-ju, waiting for what she was going to say.
"You overcooked it for some minutes." she acclaimed. You look down, upset that you managed to ruin the perfect dough you prepared so proudly. Hyun-ju, however, noticed your melancholy, and quickly bowed down a bit to you level.
She puts her hands on each of your shoulders, whispering softly in hopes to soothe you. "Don't worry, nobody gets it perfect on the first few tries. I'm very happy i got to spend time with you, sweetheart. You're sweeter than any cake we could have baked today." she assured you.
She then turned you delicately towards her, putting her hand on your cheek and kissing you. Her docile methods quickly lifting up your mood.
As you both separate from each from each others lips to breathe, you give her a confident look, smirking slightly while proposing the following suggestion.
"You're still gonna bake me a cake for my birthday, right?"
with a sigh, she responded.
"Yes, my dear. I am."
★ . ★ . ★ . ★
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astridflies ¡ 1 day ago
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So I got my first glasses in 9th grade, even though I definitely should have had them like much sooner.
The problem was I had RAGING UNDIAGNOSED ANXIETY. And so whenever my eye exam rolled around my very unhelpful brain was like "Ah. An exam. I need to pass it." So I memorized the lower lines on the eye chart in the waiting room, since I could usually puzzle out the larger lines based on the letter shape.
I sat at the front of the class anyway because otherwise I could not see the board. But eventually my nearsightedness was so bad that my grades started to slip. So during a conference with the teacher I said I couldn't see the board. And he was like, then I think you need glasses cause I can't have you two feet from the board.
We go in for an irregular appointment and I do the test for real. I do not memorize the chart because I had a C in algebra. And the doc is like, oh do you not like candy? Of course, I'm like... I love candy I am a teenager sugar is life. And he asks me if I missed the two-foot candy bucket in the waiting room. I did. We do the exam. The doc said, "well I know why you missed the candy bucket."
Yall my vision at the appointment was 20/400. This means that what normal people see at 400 feet, I see at 20 feet. This is severe visual impairment. Of course I could barely read math equations six feet in front of me.
I got glasses. Guys, there were things I knew existed. I knew there were clouds and blades of grass and leaves. Conceptually. But I had never SEEN them. I walked home and saw the true shapes of clouds for the first time. I didn't know how beautiful a tree could be or how many branches they had. My eyes watered because I didn't want to blink.
Anyway the lessons here are 1) make sure your kids know eye exams are not pass/fail and 2) please do not ignore your child's mental health. They might not know the shape of clouds.
I didn't really know how to divide the categories but I tried my best.
Please recognize for larger sample size!!
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chrisisvbun ¡ 3 days ago
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old rogers. young!bucky barnes x older!fem reader.
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synopsis: bucky had a crush on you since he was fourteen years old, and now, at twenty-four years old, finally gets a chance to make a move.
cw: riding, unprotected piv mommy kink, a little bit of nudity, masturbation, silly teen crush, Freud mentioned but really bad explanation, flirting, sub!top reader, dom!bottom bucky, age gap, secret relationship, crempie, Bucky cums a lot.
a ten nsfw chapter series masterlist.
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Bucky and Steve had been friends since high school, and the connection they had was evident. Bucky adored Steve, he was truly his best friend, he wouldn't change him for anything, he wouldn't ever want to push him away.
But going to the beach with Steve's family was always so freaking hard. His mom and dad were the sweetest, his little brother was so fun too. The problem was you.
You were already in college when Steve introduced Bucky to the family. He was fourteen while you were already twenty, and of course you realized how enamored he was with you. He loved your laugh and your eyes, he could've stared at your face for hours, but he couldn't, you were his best friend's older sister and you even had a boyfriend at the time, and clearly, he wasn't old enough. And also, you hadn't even interacted with him a lot, since you were always studying or in college.
But that year, it was the first beach vacation you shared with your family and Bucky. He was already twenty-four, and you were thirty, two adults, right? But still, you were off range, you were his best friend's older sister.
But still, he couldn't help but stare. You were tanning with a towel and an umbrella, you had undone the knot of your bikini and you were laying on your tummy to tan your back smoothy.
He was almost drooling with his milkshake in hand, he felt like a hormonal teen. He thought this was over, that it was just a stupid crush with the first mature, hot girl he saw when he was fourteen, since he went to a only boys school. But it seemed that it wasn't, because he felt like the first time he laid eyes on you.
"Jamie." You called, lifting your sunglasses, and smiling gently at him.
"Y-yeah?" He swallowed hard.
"Can I have a sip?" You rolled over your back, your bikini top still untied. The top was covering almost all of your breasts. Almost. The curve of your tits was completely on sight.
"Sure..." I said with an enamored sigh, drooling at the sight of your tanned skin.
He approached, sitting next to you and handing you the milkshake. You grabbed the straw in your lips without using your hands, sipping from it as you looked at him in his eyes. Once you swallowed the white beverage, you smiled at him. "Thanks."
He nodded quickly, casually standing back up and running to the bathroom. Once inside, he covered his mouth with his free hand while the other was in charge of stroking his cock tightly. He focused on imagining it was your mouth, or your cunt, whatever you would let him use.
(...)
The second day was even worse, you had another bikini now, a red wine one. The color suited you beautifully, your skin glowing in the sun while you read a book.
He took a breath, preparing himself to approach now.
He, nervously, approached and sat next to you. "H-hey." He swallowed hard.
You turned to him and smiled instantly, he felt his heart flutter, and his cock throb. You removed your glasses and closed your book, the attention was making him even more nervous.
"Hi, Jamie." You smiled, you were the only one who called him that, you did it since you met him and he had fantazised for nights with you moaning that stupid nickname.
"What were you reading?" He tried to make conversation.
"My good friend, Sigmund Freud." You chuckled, showing him the book. "Some psychology thing I remembered I read in college. But let's not talk about me, how are you doing now? Gonna enlist?" You asked.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm... I'm enlisting." He said, smiling stupidly.
"Isn't it kinda scary? I mean, I freak out with just the idea of going."
"Well, it is scary, but it's scarier to think of my loved ones being in danger, you know."
You smiled lovingly, your eyes shining. If he were a dog, he would have started wagging his tail with just that sight.
"You are really brave, Jamie, I like that." You smiled.
He felt his heart skip a bit, his stomach flipping with exciment, he was about to fucking vomit a bouquet of flowers and give it—
That was it. Flowers. He needed to get you flowers, that was it.
He blushed and rubbed the nape of his neck. "Ah, it's nothing, it's just how I feel, I guess."
"I always knew you were kind-hearted."
He felt like you were flirting. Were you flirting with him? He had flirted with women before, but he had totally forgotten how to answer to any compliment. His brain was blank.
"You were always sweet with me, I wouldn't treat you any different." He smiled back, resting on his forearm.
You bit your lip as you smiled, clearly flustered at his comment.
Yes, Barnes, fucking yes. Smart mother fucker. (More like sister fucker.)
"Well, you were worthy of my kindness I guess, you always treated Steve really good, I knew I could trust you that." You shifted a bit to face him better.
"Trust me what?" He furrowed his brows slightly.
"I knew you would take good care of someone you appreciated." You smirked a bit. "So I knew I could trust you my baby bro." You giggled a bit.
He blushed heavily, but tried to act non chalantly.
This is the moment, Bucky, think, think, you gotta give a more explicit sign, come on. Use that stupid head of yours. He thought.
He pretended to think once he had the most risky comment in the tip of his mouth. "You think... I could take good care of you?" He finally looked at you in the eye, his icy blue eyes piercing yours.
You blushed more, your lips parting because of the surprise.
Before you could answer, your younger brother shoot both of you with a water gun.
"Greg! You little shit, I'm gonna kill you!" You said as you grabbed your soaked book.
Greg just laughed and ran away.
"Mom! Greg ruined my book!" You complained, cursing under your breath.
Then, you put a hand on Bucky's right shoulder. Your hand was warm, but the water made it cool down a bit. Still, your touch, even if it was a few seconds, was soft and delicate. His breath hitched as he looked up at you.
"I'll be right back." You said, before going with your parents.
When you came back, Bucky wasn't there. You were confused, but assumed he got bored waiting since you took really long.
Bucky was for his third orgasm already and his cock wouldn't stop getting hard at the memory of the whole interaction.
(...)
The third day, you weren't at the beach at all. Bucky looked around like a lost puppy, trying to get a glance of you, but nothing.
"Hey, your sister didn't come." He said casually to Steve.
"Ah, yeah, she told me to let you know she would stay in her bedroom. I think it's because you were having a chat before Greg got annoying, right?" Steve answered.
Was that it? Could that be the sign he was waiting for?
"Yeah. Yeah, sure." He said, casually, trying to ignore the throb of his cock.
Bucky didn't even bother to put a shirt on, he almost jumped all the way to your hotel room. He knocked on the door eagerly, and a few seconds later, you opened the door.
You were in a pair of grey shorts, a wide t-shirt, clearly no bra on, your hair wet and dump, you had just jumped out of the shower, and that just made him more excited.
"I was wondering when you were gonna show up." You smiled, letting him come in.
"Steve told me you wanted to keep chatting with me." He smiled as he sat on your bed. He smiled back, he had more confidence, he could sense that you wanted him back, and he was just getting more and more excited.
"Stupid Greg made me not want to go out today, I loved that book." You huffed before you sat next to him. "But I felt we had a chat pending." You sat sideways, holding your body in your right hand as you looked at him
"Do we?" He smiled a bit, but internally, he was shivering.
"You know I'm a bit too old, right?" You started. He nodded quickly. "And you know I'm your best friend's sister." He nodded again. "Alright."
You sat straight and pushed him to make him lay on his back. Bucky's pupils went wide when you began to crawl on top of him. "So, when Steve asks, we were reading about Freud, right?"
He nodded eagerly, his lips parted as he sighed, your hands ran up his bare torso.
"You got huge this time, you lift a lot?" You asked, squeezing his muscles with a smile.
He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbed up and down. "Yeah, a-about a hundred and fourty pounds."
"Hundred and fourty pounds?" You said impressed. "You could lift any girl you want." You teased with a smile. You leaned down, your lips pressed against his sun-kissed collarbone.
"Y-yeah..."
"Could you lift me?" You asked in whispers as your kisses began to climb their way to his throat.
"I..." He sighed of pleasure. "I would love to."
You giggled, the sound making Bucky shiver. His shaking hands moved to grab your clothed waist.
"Steve can't know about this, okay?" You said, your eyes in his, your hands cupping his cheeks.
He nodded obediently and quickly, he sank his fingertips a bit harder into your waist, while his eyes darted between your soft plump lips and your eyes.
"Gonna be good f'r me?" You ran your fingers through his hair.
"Yes, yes, I'll— I'll do anything for you." He muttered. You smiled, and he noticed how much he loved the way your eyes crinkled. He leaned a bit, and he forced himself to not moan when his lips brushed against yours.
Your hand held the back of his neck and you pressed a soft kiss on his lips. That was it? Right? Just— just a kiss? He thought.
(...)
"Oh, fuck!" You moaned out loud while your hips snapped into his.
His eyes were wide as he had his face buried in the crook of your neck. Moaning, drooling, babbling, he was totally overwhelmed, trying so hard not to come too quick like he already did. Three times.
He felt lime a virgin teen, when he was an adult man and definetly not a virgin.
You were riding him so skillingly, you knew some much, he felt just dumb, he gave in the second you had pushed him in that bed. His hands were gripping your back while his legs shook of overstimulation. You were whining and moaning in his ear as you scratched down his back, using him like the perfect sex toy he was.
"Gimme another one." You mumbled in his ear, making him sob a moan again. "C'mon, I'm so close, make me cum, baby."
He pulled away a second, his hands running through your sides as he got drunk in the sight of you. Your soft tanned tummy, your pretty arms, your pink cunt sucking his cock, and your beautiful, bouncing tits.
He sank his face there, sucking them, biting them, while his hands gripped your middle back.
"You like my tits? Wanna get nursed like a baby?" You teased a bit, between moans.
He looked up at you, glassy blue eyes into yours, he squeezed your body, his cock throb and all for the thought of you taking good care of him. For the thought of being your baby.
You saw his eyes full of hunger and desire and kissed him gently, pulling his hair delicately, you started to ride him slower.
"C'mon..." You said softly. "Take what you want."
He didn't have to think twice, he grabbed your left nipple in his mouth, and sucked like he could get milk from it. Your hand ran through his hair, stroking him, petting him.
"That's a good boy, making mommy feel good."
Something snapped at him, like a rubber band. He moaned, and whined like a hurt dog as he sucked and sucked. He planted his feet on the mattress, and he began to thrust upwards, his tip directly hitting your cervix.
He heard you gasped and moan out loud, your nails sank on his shoulders as you tried to find support.
"Mommy, mommy..." He moaned feraly in your ear. "So good, so good, tell me I'm good, mommy..." He begged in sobs.
Your nails were almost piercing his skin. "S-so good, baby, so f-f-freaking great for mommy."
He moaned with just your words, keeping his pace. "Gonna fill you up so good, lemme fill you up, lemme make you a mommy."
His primal needs made his eyes go blurry, he was so desperate to cum, he needed to fill you nice and good, knock you up, having your round and fat with him.
"Baby, you know you can't..." You said breathless.
"Please, please, please, please..." He begged, his sobs filled the room with the slapping sound of his balls against your skin. "I can't pull out, I can't— I can't, please, let me fill you..." He almost cried in your shoulder.
How could you say no to him? How could you deny him anything if he spoke in that tone?
"C'mon, baby, fill momma up." You mumbled in his ear and he moaned at the permission.
"Thank you, oh, mommy, thank you..." He cried as his thrusts began to get sloppier and sloppier.
You pulled his hair and clenched around his shaft. You moaned loudly, and your back arched in his embrace when your climax almost made you tear up.
With that, the gave a final thrust and came inside, his cum filling and spilling all over your bed.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I can't stop, I just can't—" he sobbed, holding your body against him as he kept coming. He never came this much, but the orgasm he just had... you might have ruined him for the rest of women.
"Shh, it's okay, baby, don't worry about it. You did great." You kissed his face gently, making him purr at the soft aftermath.
(...)
"So, what did you guys do?" Steve asked, when all of his family, including you, were having dinner.
"Ah, she showed me a book he had, one Freud wrote." Bucky said casually.
"Wasn't that the one who fucked his mom?" Steve's dad said.
Bucky nearly chocked with his food.
"Dad! Don't be stupid! He didn't fuck his mom, he had his arguments about the unconscious desire of having sexual relationships with the opposite gender parent, like the myth of Oedipus." You explained. "It's a normal sexual wish that kids have when they are really young, and that feeling disappears once they grow, it's almost biological."
"Well, some dudes still have some of that, am I right?" Your dad chuckled.
"Dad, quit it—"
"You know what I mean, Barnes." He elbowed Bucky, whose face was red as a tomato.
"Y-Yeah, sure."
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13uswntimagines ¡ 2 days ago
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All In My Head (Alessia Russo X Singer!r)
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Part III of the Safe Harbor Universe. Find other parts here
Summary: Being Sick on tour sucks, but that doesn't mean that you want your team to inform your girlfriend. She has her own career to think about. The problem is that honesty is rule number 1 in your relationship.
Warnings: there is mention of a D/s dynamic, but nothing is super explicit. Alessia is referred to as daddy.
Authors note: Yes the ending is a cliffhanger. But this has honestly been in my drafts since like August, so i wanted to put it out. I'm considering a Pt. 2, but it will depend on if people want it. I really hope you enjoy it, and let me know what you think.
You sighed heavily, leaning against the stadium's cool stone wall and twisting the bracelet around your wrist. 
Which stadium, you couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter, really. They all looked the same after a while anyway, blurring together in the never-ending cycle of rehearsals, performances, interviews, and meet and greets. 
All your life seemed to be was performing and promoting music you weren’t even excited about anymore. It was a nonstop grind filled with late nights and early mornings, with almost no time for your well-being. 
You almost wished your girlfriend had implemented a rule that placed a limit on how much you could do. At least that would give you the power to say no. 
You did your best. 
You squeezed in as many phone calls with your girlfriend, Alessia as you could, but she had her own commitments with the Lionesses as they prepared to defend their European championship.
Most of the time you ended up passing out over FaceTime, and waking up to texts telling you she loved you. 
You understood. You both had careers and obligations. You both had to make sacrifices to get to do the things you loved. 
It was… intense, but for the most part, you enjoyed it. You loved playing for the fans. You would deal with all the promotional bs just so you could interact with the people who loved your music as much as possible. 
They deserved that. 
And this tour had been going far better than the ones you had been on before it. You were holding it all together far better than you had in the past. 
Or it had been. 
It all started with a slight tickle in your throat in the city before last. A whisper of huskiness that went away with a nice steam session and some tea. 
It was easy to ignore in the beginning. 
Then you played 4 shows back to back last weekend. 
By the end of the 3rd show, you knew you were screwed, you could barely muster a horse whisper. Alessia had commented that you sounded like a chain smoker, your first sign that she was seeing through you, but you assured her you would be fine. You even joked that you had enough throat coat and grether's pastilles to turn her off for a year. She let you soothe her worries. 
You pushed on, powered my menthol lozenges and Honey, and you made it through the 4th show. 
It would have been fine. It shouldn’t have mattered that your ability to make any sound at all was hanging on by a thread. The 5 days off you had should have been enough to set everything right.
Except you didn’t have 5 days off. 
It was filled with promotional performances for a new album and interviews about how well it would accompany the movie it was attached to. If someone else asked you about how it felt about the possibility of an Oscar nod, you were going to scream. Or rip all of your hair out or both.
The tickle had turned to hot nails, and nothing - not the steam machine or tea and honey - had the power to soothe it. 
You sounded like you were talking through gravel, and your team had been hesitant to even let you go on tonight. 
Alessia definitely would not have, if she knew how bad it really was. You started avoiding her two days ago after you couldn’t make it through a sentence without a crack, and you couldn’t continue to blame the low whistle that accompanied every one of your breaths on allergies. 
You knew going in that performing tonight wasn’t a great idea, but you refused to let the fans down. There were only 4 shows left. Surely you could make it. 
The entire show felt like a battle. 
You had to fight for every note. For every breath. 
Your lungs felt like they were on fire and your throat was raw before you even got to the piano set. 
It took everything in you to hide the thinness in your voice. To prevent every sound from cracking as you forced each lyric out. 
It was…rough to say the least. 
But you made it- even if it was only by the skin of your teeth. 
You were shot by the time you did your final bow and disappeared backstage. You ignored the cold Gatorade being pressed into your palms, knowing it would only aggravate the glass shards in your throat, and shrugged off Steven and Clint. 
You didn’t need their concern, you needed to escape the roaring in your ears. The pounding in your chest. 
So you took turn after turn until you were in an abandoned section of hallways. 
You sighed, grasping at your throat as you slid down the cool wall, pulling your knees to your chest and pressing your forehead into the rough material of your costume to drown out the pounding in your head. Your fingers tangled in the hair at the back of your head and you groaned. 
The sound felt like hot coals in your throat, and it made your chest ache. 
You feared that no amount of steam, or tea, or pastilles would stop it this time. 
The cold bricks of the stadium felt nice against your skin, leaching the heat from your body, though it did nothing to help the fire in your chest. 
A fire that was quickly moving past the gray areas in your agreement with Alessia, and into a place that your daddy would definitely have something to say about. 
You were treating your limits with her like a tightrope, carefully toeing the edge. Except with the way you felt, you knew you were about to topple one way or the other. 
You ignored the sounds of clicking shoes coming closer, hoping that whoever it was wouldn’t see you. That they would leave you be to pull the cracked pieces of yourself back together. 
But your team knew better than to leave you to your own devices.
“Y/n?”
You tensed at the soft hand on your shoulders, and the sound of shifting clothing as someone settled on the ground beside you. 
“You ok, kid?” Natasha asked softly, running soothing circles on the top of your shoulders. 
You let out another breath before you pulled your face from its hiding spot, resting your chin on your knees. “I’m ok. Just wanted some quiet,”
You frowned at the horse whisper that left your lips, and the flair of pain that accompanied it. 
Natasha hummed. 
She had been part of your team from the beginning, back when you were a dumb 16-year-old, long before Pepper, Tony, Steve and the rest of the crew had joined, and she knew you nearly as well as Alessia did. 
She raised an eyebrow at you. “Just some quiet?” 
You knew that wasn’t what she was actually asking. 
The question went much deeper. 
She knew about your… dynamic with Alessia, and she had seen the striker take care of you in various ways. She was asking you what you needed. 
You nodded, looking away from her, afraid that she would see through you. 
“I needed a minute,” You said, your voice barely a squeak. “It was all too much, and I wanted to be alone before I got pulled into something else,”
She made a low sound at the familiar explanation. “And this has nothing to do with how you sound like you’re gargling rocks?”
You grimaced. “Nothing at all,”
She hummed. “So you’re not in any pain at all?”
“Nope,” You breathed out, the p the only clear part of the word. 
“Y/n,” She sighed. “I know you have an… aversion to admitting when you’re not… at the top of your game, but pushing yourself isn’t going to help anything. You don’t have anything to prove here,”
You ran a hand through your hair and rolled your eyes dramatically at her. She chuckled at the action. 
“There are only 3 more shows,” You said. “I can make it 3 more shows,”
“And how would Alessia feel if she knew you were going to put your comfort aside for 3 more shows?” Natasha asked softly. “And not just your comfort, your health. You sound like shit,”
You huffed at the mention of your girlfriend, your fingers instinctively finding the braided bracelet that never left your wrist. 
You knew how she would feel. You could practically hear what she would say. I expect you to take care of the things that belong to me. I expect you to treat them with respect and give them the love and care they deserve. 
“I’ve got it all under control,” You rasped, wincing at the action. 
It was Natasha’s turn to roll her eyes. “Sure you do. Since you have it all under control, you’ll stop ignoring your girlfriend,” She pulled the device out of her back pocket and balanced it on top of your knees. “She’s been blowing up your phone all day. I think she’s worried,” 
You stared at the phone, and as if on cue, it buzzed again with a new message. 
Alessia was going to be furious with you, and your daddy would be on another level entirely. 
She was usually the one to take the reigns when you were set on driving yourself into oblivion for the benefit of everyone else. But she wasn’t here. 
You sighed heavily. 
You knew that if you told her, she would drop everything. She would move heaven and earth if that was what you needed. 
You didn’t want that. 
She needed to focus on her game, and that meant that you couldn’t be a distraction. You would not disappoint her. Not when you were so close to finishing. 
“She needs to focus,” You mumbled, your voice straining. “She’s gotta impress Sarina to make the team. It’s important,”
“I think you forget that you are also important,” Natasha argued back softly, patting your back before carefully pushing herself to her feet. “I’m going to have Pepper cancel the meet and greet. You’re in no shape to meet fans. I should also have her call a doctor, but I already know you’ll fight me on it,” 
You frowned. You never sold meet and greet tickets, choosing to instead have your team select fans at each show. 
“But-“ 
She held up her hand before you could argue. “That isn’t up for debate. Get rest tonight, and we’ll assess tomorrow in the morning.”
Your jaw clenched, but you nodded, knowing there was no arguing with her. 
“I know the world thinks you’re superhuman, but it’s ok not to be indestructible,” She said, softly. “You need to remember to be Clarke Kent sometimes too. There’s a reason Lois fell in love with him first,”
With that, she walked away, leaving you alone with your thoughts. 
The silence of the empty hallway wasn’t as welcoming as it had been. It didn’t quiet your thoughts like it had. 
Instead, it felt suffocating. Like the walls were closing in on you, trapping you in your misery. 
You sighed another painful breath, before you grabbed your phone, reading the top notification, longing not to feel so…alone. 
Hey babe, caught the end of your show on a random livestream. Are we still on for our FaceTime tonight?
You let your head fall back, thumping the wall. 
Everything in you longed to say yes.
But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t. 
It was still nice to fantasize about seeing her. About hearing her say ‘Hello my little one,’ with a soft smile that brought out her dimples. If you closed your eyes you could almost feel the pressure of her fingers on the back of your neck, running through the baby hairs that lived there. ‘I’m here, and I’ve got you,’
You let your mind linger there for a long second before you forced your eyes back open. 
It took you three tries to type out your reply: sorry darling, I’m super tired. Rain check?
And you paused, your trembling finger over the send button, knowing you shouldn’t send it, but hitting the little blue arrow anyway. 
It was awful but necessary. 
You let out another long, ragged breath before you forced yourself to your feet and shoved your phone into your pocket, so you didn’t have to see her reply. You leaned heavily on the wall, no longer enjoying how it sucked the warmth from your skin, but using it to stay upright as the entire hallway tilted to the side. 
You should go back to your dressing room before Steve sent out a search party. Dealing with Nat was one thing, dealing with the overprotective instincts of Steve, Clint, and Thor was another. 
You didn’t have the mental capacity for that, and maybe your dressing room couldn’t make you feel like there was a rope on your lungs, dragging out your soul.
*****
You were not particular about a lot of things when you were on tour. You didn’t care about the size of your hotel room or the cars you were shuttled around in. You didn’t request overly expensive foods or special bubbly waters. 
The only thing on your rider that you were very specific about was your dressing room. 
It was your sanctuary away from the noise. A place you would spend more time in than your hotel room. 
It was important to you that it was always the same. Lit with twinkling fairy lights, the comfy gray couch that followed you on every tour stop standing near the table with your kettle and vocal steamer, and a diffuser already filling the room with the soft scent of lavender and honey. 
It filled your lungs the second you stepped through the door, wiping away the burning ache that accompanied every breath for just a second. Reminding you for one fleeting moment of the honeysuckle of Alessia’s favorite shampoo (the reason she picked the essential oil blend to begin with), before the knives returned to your chest. 
You rubbed your knuckles over your sternum to quell the feeling, stumbling over to the couch and collapsing into it. 
You pressed your nose into the soft gray material, wishing that you had grabbed the bright red sweatshirt you stole from your girlfriend when you last saw her. The smell of her perfume was beginning to fade, but it wasn’t gone yet, and there was a distinct longing in your stomach to be close to her. Even if you were the reason there was any space to begin with. 
You could hear your kettle bubbling next to you, and you knew you should make yourself some tea to soothe the sharp edges in your windpipe, but the thought of moving felt like too much. 
Instead, you sunk into the couch, your arm dangling off the cushion, your fingers brushing the ugly red carpet. 
You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, and you didn’t have to look to know who was texting you. Still, the urge to see what she would say was too great for you to ignore it. 
It took all of your strength to move your heavy arm to your pocket and pull out your phone. Your fingers fumbled over the screen as you squinted at the device with the eye not pressed into the couch. 
The light made the throbbing in your head worse, and the words written on the screen made your lungs constrict.
Ok, my love. Are you sure everything is alright? This is the 3rd time this week.
You could almost hear the worry in her voice. See the suspicion in her blue eyes. 
They never failed to see through you. To strip away your exterior and leave you vulnerable and raw beneath them. It never made you feel exposed, even in the beginning when the two of you decided to extend your dynamic beyond your bedroom. Instead, you felt seen and safe. 
Sometimes she liked to have to work for your submission. She liked to peel away each layer of you one by one until you were a trembling mess beneath her. Open and vulnerable in a way no one else ever got to see you. 
Other times, you gave your submission willingly, stripping off your public persona like a dirty shirt and allowing her to envelop you in her warm comfort. 
How much you wanted that. How much you needed it. 
It was a desperation that filled your entire being. 
Before you could process what you were doing, you had already pressed her contact photo and brought the now-ringing phone to your ear. 
You laid the device on the side of your head and let your arm go back to dangling. It was too heavy to hold. 
It only rang twice before her voice filled your ears. 
“Hey my love,” She said, worry and relief mingling strangely in her tone. “I’m so happy you called me. How are you?”
Her voice washed over you like a soothing wave, like a balm on the sharp edges of your nerves, though it did little to help the fire in your lungs and throat. 
You pressed your nose into the couch, pretending that it was her shoulder for just a second. That the honey and lavender surrounding you was her perfume. That she was here. 
“Y/n, are you there?” She asked, and you opened your mouth to respond, but the words just wouldn’t come out. 
You couldn’t force any sound, beyond a low whistle past your inflamed throat. Your lungs crackled with each breath. 
Your inability to make sound didn’t bother you as much as it should have. 
“Y/n? Did you butt-dial me?” Alessia asked again, and you could almost feel her running her nails through your hair, gently scratching your scalp. “I’m worried,”
The words were said with too much force, not at all the soft murmur your brain had been waiting to hear. 
It shook you out of your haze just enough for you to reach up and grab your phone, clicking the decline button too fast. 
You let the phone drop to the floor with a low thump as it immediately began to ring again. 
Your fingers twitched above the screen, but you didn’t have the strength to reach for it, even as it lit up again with your girlfriend's contact photo. 
Well, it was a photo of the two of you. You were curled up in her lap, in one of her blue UNC sweatshirts that were too big, and she was kissing the side of your head. 
It had been taken after a particularly grueling day in the studio. It was Alessia’s turn to host team bonding night. You didn’t remember exactly who took the picture, Leah or Lotte, maybe, but it was one of your favorites.
What the camera didn’t catch was that your arms were not in the sleeves. Instead, they were tied with intricate knots behind your back, hidden by the sweatshirt. 
It was something the two of you often did, and it was one of her go-to's when you were starting to spiral out of control. 
A part of you longed for the feeling of the knots now, and her fingers twisting the soft rope against your skin. 
Sure, the weight of your bracelet was nice, but it wasn’t enough. 
You let out a wheezing breath that crackled and hurt. 
If you asked, she would be here. She would wrap you up and pull you from your free fall. 
It took you a long second to remember why you couldn’t have that. 
Alessia had a job to do, and you wouldn’t stand in the way of that. 
The phone buzzed again against the ugly carpet, the little voicemail icon flashing. You doubted you would be able to resist calling her back if you listened to it.  
Still, you had to do something. 
So you flicked the screen with one finger, going to your messages, and typing out words that felt fake, even to you. 
Sorry, I’m ok. Just tired. I’ll call you tomorrow after the game. Love you.
You clicked send before you could overthink it though, or your trembling fingers could betray you and type out the truth. You laid your head back down on the couch, curling into yourself as a painful cough forced its way past your lips. 
You weren’t sure how long you laid there, shivering before there was a soft knock at the door, and then the little click as it opened. 
A part of your brain hoped that it would be Alessia. That she had read your mind and somehow teleported to whatever city you were in. 
But the feeling of gentle fingers on the top of your shoulders told you that it wasn’t. 
“Y/n?” Natasha asked, very close to your ear, and you blinked up at her. 
You didn’t remember closing your eyes. 
“Hm?” You hummed, the sound raw and painful. 
“Let’s get you changed, and then we can go back to the hotel and you can sleep,” She said, placing a hand under your armpit and guiding you to a sitting position. 
The tiny movement had coughs ripping past your lips. 
She held you steady with one hand and grabbed you a change of clothes with the other. 
“Easy,” She breathed out, carefully unbuttoning your shirt and pulling it from your sweaty skin. 
She left you shirtless for a long second as she disappeared into your bathroom, and the cool air of the dressing room felt nice on your overheated skin. 
It didn’t bother you. Natasha had seen you in far less clothing than your sports bra and underwear. 
She returned only a moment later with a towel, using it to dry you off before she slipped a light blue t-shirt with a foot on the back over your head. 
The pants took a little more wiggling, but eventually, she was able to get you out of your costume and into a pair of sweats that were far too big for you.
She slid a pair of Converse onto your feet, scooping up your phone and tucking it into her pocket. 
“Let’s get you to the car,” She guided you to stand, keeping an arm wrapped tightly around you. 
“People?” You asked, leaning more of your weight onto her as she pulled you towards the door. 
You missed her eye roll. 
Of course, all you were worried about right now was who would see you, and what they would think. 
“Not here,” Natasha reassured you gently, opening the door. “Only when we get back to the hotel,”
You made a low, painful sound as she half-carried you into the hallway. 
You still had time before you had to pull yourself together. 
******
The city lights blurred into a distorted kaleidoscope of colors during the short ride back to the hotel. 
The cool glass felt nice against your temple, though it did little to ease the throb in your head or the lava in your throat. 
The feeling of eyes watching you for any wavering in your resolve also wouldn’t go away. You couldn’t be sure if it was worry (that you would puke all over the car or pass out), or concern about what the fans would think when you pulled up to the hotel. 
The whirring of the engine wasn’t loud enough to block out your racing thoughts, but any music was too much for you to handle. 
You were drowning. 
Every breath hurt, but you didn’t know if it was because of the physical pain or the anxiety gnawing at you. 
You didn’t like to upset people. You didn’t like to disappoint them. 
You were a people pleaser to a fault, and this wasn’t the first time you had self-destructed to meet everyone’s expectations. 
But at the end of the day, the person you wanted to please most. The person you wanted to not disappoint the most was Alessia. Was your Daddy. 
You knew you were failing, but you didn’t know how to stop.
The car came to a stop in front of the hotel far too quickly, and not for the first time, you were thankful that the dark tint kept you hidden from public view. 
“Ready, kid?” Steve asked, turning around in the driver's seat to look at you. 
You nodded once, reaching forward and grabbing the sunglasses facing the wrong way on his head, and pulled them over your own eyes. 
You took a deep breath before Clint opened your door, painting your signature smile across your features. 
You didn’t wave when you got out, too focused on keeping yourself upright, as Steve’sarm wrapped around you on one side and Natasha’s did the same on the other. 
You felt safe tucked between them, though they did nothing to shield you from shrill screams and cheers that met you as soon as your feet touched the ground. They amplified the pounding behind your eyes, and the way the crowd pressed around you made it even harder to breathe (not that you thought that was possible). 
You did try to flash the crowd smiles as Natasha and Steve guided you through, Clint protecting your back, and you were thankful your eyes were hidden, despite it being nighttime. 
You never wanted the fans to see the… fakeness. The lie.
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when the hotel doors slid closed behind you, placing more of your weight on Steve as Natash called the elevator. 
“You’re burning up kid,” Steve murmured, shifting to get a better grip around your waist. 
You made a low sound, that turned into a full body caught that nearly had you doubling over. “Is that your way of calling me hot Stevie? What would Tony think?”
The words came out garbled, cracking with every syllable as you tried to talk through the coughs. 
Steve’s arm tightened around you to keep you upright. 
“I think he would say that you are sick,” Steve sighed at the mention of his husband, your publicist, taking more of your weight as another round of coughs wracked you. 
You pushed off of him as soon as you could breathe again, even if it felt like sucking air through a straw filled with needles, and swayed your way toward the elevator. 
It binged open as soon as you reached it, and you stumbled inside, gripping the metal bar on the back wall for support, and resting your forehead on the cool wall. 
You could feel the heat of your skin leaching into the surface, but it did little to quell the pounding in your ears or the feeling like everything was tipping on its head. 
Your fingers instinctively found the braided bracelet, running over the soft leather strands. 
However, this time, it didn’t ease the bubbling anxiety and fire in your chest. 
“We’re almost there, and then you can rest,” Natasha said softly, and you felt both her and Steve’s eyes on you as you leaned further into the wall. 
The movement of the elevator was starting to make you nauseous, but you didn’t think you could voice that even if you wanted to. Not with how raw your throat was. 
It took you a second to realize the elevator had stopped, and it wasn’t until Natasha gently touched your shoulder that you began to move again. 
You let Steve guide you out of the elevator and into the hallway. 
Natasha had the door to your suite open before you even got there, and Steve half-carried you to the bed, settling you on the fluffy white comforter. 
Your fingers tangled in the expensive sheets as you fought to keep yourself upright. 
“Do you want to take a shower?” Natasha asked you softly, kneeling in front of you and carefully undoing your sneakers. 
You shook your head slowly, smothering another cough. “Sweatshirt,”
The croaky word hurt as it left your lips, barely audible and surrounded by more lung-crunching coughs. 
But they understood, Steve, passing you a bright red sweatshirt from your bag. 
You brought it to your face and collapsed back onto the bed, breathing in the perfume that clung to the material. 
It burned as it filled your senses, but you could pretend that it soothed the edges of glass in your throat and lungs. You could pretend that it was her taking off your shoes and tucking you in. 
You could pretend that it was all ok and that she wasn’t going to be livid when she found out. Not that you were sick, but that you hadn’t told her immediately. 
You knew you would take whatever punishment she decided you deserved with no questions. She could be rather creative when she was annoyed with you. 
“Let’s get you settled properly,” Natasha said, shifting you on the bed so your head was on the pillows, as Steve moved the covers and tucked them around you. “Rest now, and we’ll deal with the rest in the morning,” 
You groaned, sending more flames down your airway, rolling over and pressing your face more firmly into the sweatshirt. 
You heard the distinctive sound of your phone being plugged in, and the click of the door. 
And then you were alone. 
More alone than you had been in a very long time. 
Even if it was all your own doing, you hadn’t been this disconnected since the beginning of Alessia’s college career, and your first tour with Taylor. The infamous break in your relationship. Even though neither of you had actually experimented with anyone else, and you had texted and called nonstop, you had been hesitant to push too far, to ask for too much. 
You blew out a long breath into her sweatshirt, ignoring the little needles that followed the air, eyes fixed on the phone on your bedside. 
It buzzed again as if it knew you were thinking about it. 
You reached your hand out, pulling it close so you could look at it, but it was still plugged in. 
The movement had the screen lighting up with a string of messages. The one at the top made your heart hurt.
Please don’t ignore me, my Little One. I’m worried.
It said, and you could almost hear the inflection in her tone. You could almost see her eyes softening, and feel her fingers brushing your hair behind your ear. 
You closed your eyes, pressing more deeply into the sweatshirt under your head. 
Your fantasy world was far nicer than the reality you were in, and the universe wouldn’t end if you stayed in it until morning. 
********
Your night was… hazy, filled with half-dreams that were increasingly difficult to distinguish from real life. As the morning light crept its way further and further across the ceiling, you leaned into the sweatshirt slowly losing its smell, one eye peeking out to track its progress. 
It felt like a timer. A countdown clock on the imagined feelings of soothing hands on your back and whispered reassurance that everything would be okay. 
Soon enough the door would open and you would have to be you again. You would have to pretend like each breath you took didn’t feel like a bear was mauling your lungs, and your brain wasn’t a freight train threatening to escape from your skull. 
You would have to deal with the incessant buzzing of your phone that had kept you on the edge of real sleep all night. 
You would have to face your girlfriend. Your daddy. 
You were not looking forward to it. Any of it. 
The only thing that you were semi-excited about was watching your girlfriend play, even through a screen. That had been your only saving grace back when she was in college before the two of you got back together, and you knew it would be your only saving grace now. 
You sighed, rolling over, the sweatshirt falling from its bunched-up place against your cheek, and reaching for the phone still on the corner of the bed next to you. 
It buzzed again as your fingers caught it, and brought it closer so you could see the screen. It was filled with notifications. 
Some were from the group thread you shared with your manager, assistant, and publicist. Some were emails from people you were collaborating with. 
But the majority were from Alessia. 
You couldn’t help but click on the thread. 
You knew it was a mistake immediately. 
Good morning little one. I’ll have some time if you want to FaceTime before the game. I miss you, and I’m worried. You don’t usually ignore me.
It was like an arrow straight through your heart. 
A direct hit to your will. 
You swallowed hard, ignoring how badly it burned, and typed out a message. 
I miss you too. Good luck today. You’re going to do amazing
You dropped your phone after you hit send, deciding that finding the starting 11 wasn’t important anymore, and stared up at the ceiling through half-lidded eyes, pulling the comforter more tightly around you despite the sweat breaking out across your chest. 
You thought it would help the hollow feeling slowly taking over your insides, or the dull throb that accompanied each breath. 
It did not. 
You let your eyes slide back closed, deciding that the light hadn’t transversed far enough across the ceiling for you to need to be awake yet. Not when the pull of sleep was so strong, and the comfort of your half dreams was too difficult to resist. 
“You know I don't like it when you hide from me,” Alessia’s voice said sternly, as though it was right next to your ear, and you felt fingertips graze your lips. 
You didn’t open your eyes. Even amongst the haze that was filling every crack in your brain, you knew she wasn't here. She couldn’t be here. Not when she was back in London about to play some team you couldn’t remember. 
“I know,” You rasped out.  
The fingers gently pulled at your bottom lip before they circled back towards your cheek, and a thumb brushed across your closed eyelid. 
“And you’re still doing it?” She asked, and you felt the air of each word on your ear. 
You shook your head, turning it slightly, hoping to feel her nose bump hers. “You need to focus on the important things,” 
You didn’t come into contact with her, though you knew you should have with the way you shifted. 
“And you are not important to me?” She asked her voice hardening in the way it only did when you were about to receive a punishment. 
An involuntary shiver ran down your spine, and your eyes opened automatically. 
You sucked in a painful breath, blinking blearily at the face above you.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Natasha said quietly, even as your eyes darted around, searching for your girlfriend. “It’s 1, so you need to wake up so we can make a decision about tonight,” 
“Less?” You asked, your voice barely a whisper when you saw that Natasha was the only other person in the room with you. 
Natasha frowned, brushing your hair away from your forehead. “She’s in London, remember? The game against Luxembourg starts soon,” 
Your eyebrows pulled tightly together. You hadn’t remembered that they were playing Luxembourg. 
“She’s starting?” 
“No,” Natasha shook her head. “It’s mostly the young ones starting since the over-under is plus 20 for England,”
Your nose scrunched, and you forced yourself to sit up. “She has to play,”
None of this would be worth it if she never touched the field. 
“I think Serina is using this as more of an identification camp,” Natasha countered, stepping in to help you sit up. “The girls need rest after doing both the Champions League and regular play these last couple of weeks,”
You grunted though it sounded more like a pained wheeze than a grunt. 
Alessia’s schedule had been nearly as insane as your own for the past few months. It was part of the reason you were so… reluctant to bother her with something as trivial as a tickle in your throat. 
“Maybe you should take a page out of her book,” Natasha added. 
Your nostrils flared immediately at the implication. 
Your job was so much less physical than Alessia’s. You didn’t do anything to deserve rest like she did. 
The pressure you both face to perform was inherently different.
She didn’t let down millions of people every time she rode the bench. She wouldn’t crush the dreams of thousands of people if she didn’t take the pitch. 
But still, you could already hear her argument ringing in your head. 
I expect you to care for the things that belong to me as deeply and completely as I do. That includes yourself. Your needs matter, and I will not allow you to disregard them.
“No.” You rasped, none of the bite you meant appearing in the word. 
“Yes,” Natasha countered, shifting the pillows behind you before you leaned back. “There is no way you can perform tonight,”
You huffed, and crossed your arms, glaring at the city beyond the large window to the right of the bed. “People paid-“
“To hear you sing. Not hack your way through a set,” Natasha cut you off. “They’ll be more disappointed if you give them a show that’s not your best. Reschedule the last 3, so they’re worth what they paid,”
Your glare only deepened, and your eyebrows pulled very tightly together as you processed what she was saying (taking a few extra minutes to cut through the thick fog in your brain). 
You knew she was playing on your sensibility. You thought ticket prices were disgusting, and had fought to lower them as much as you could. You had made your show longer in retaliation, so the fans got what they paid for. 
You wouldn’t give them a sub-par show. 
You didn’t look at her but nodded once. 
“I’ll have Tony write a statement. Do you want to approve it before it goes out?” She asked, her voice gentle. 
You shook your head, your lips pursing. 
“We’ll release it then, and I’ll call a doctor so we can get you some real medication,” The redhead continued, ignoring the deep frown pulling at your features. 
It wasn’t that you were trying to be difficult. You just knew what would happen the second the people staked outside of your hotel caught sight of a doctor. 
But now you felt like you didn’t have a choice, and not in the fun way.
“Fine,” You muttered, a hacking cough following it. 
Natasha patted your back until the coughing stopped, and you relaxed back against the pillows. “I’ll take care of everything. I’ll have food sent up, you just watch the game and try to get more sleep before the doctor gets here,”
You huffed but didn’t protest as she tucked the blanket tighter around your torso. 
“I know you’re unhappy with all of this, but it is what it is, and we need to look after your health too,” She sighed, turning and bustling around the room, flipping on the television to the game and grabbing a mug you hadn't noticed from the dresser by the door. “Drink that, and I’ll be back in a bit,”
You didn’t respond as she placed the mug on the table beside you, and disappeared through the hotel room door with a soft click. 
You wanted to groan. To yell. To throw the mug across the room, but you knew it wouldn’t help. 
The other part of you wanted your guitar, not that you were sure your fingers were strong enough right now to actually play.  
You closed your eyes, tilting your head back on the pillows. 
It wasn’t long before you felt fingers in your hair, though you hadn’t heard the door open again. 
You instantly knew who it was, though her perfume was suspiciously missing. 
“You look like you got hit by a bus,” She murmured, her breath brushing across your nose. 
Your eyes fluttered open, meeting her blue, except it was two shades darker than you remembered, the same shade as the old UNC jersey she was wearing. 
“I’m fine,” You croaked, the sound pulling a hacking cough from your lungs that burned as it left you. 
“Ah yes, because you sound just fine,” She huffed, her nails scratching lazily at your scalp. “You don’t need to hide from me,”
You blinked slowly, and her form shimmered slightly beside you. “‘M not. ‘M right here,”
“Rule one is honesty for a reason,” She countered, her hand pausing. “You’ve not abided by that.”
You swallowed around the glass in your throat at the confirmation of what you already knew, and your eyes closed again as the heavy weight of it settled on your mind. 
You had broken the most sacred rule and you were in trouble. It wouldn’t just be a punishment you would have to take. It would be regaining her trust that would take the longest time. 
It was a fragile thing, and you had shattered it. 
You forced your eyes open again, determined to say something- anything- that would make it better, except when you did, she was gone. 
You blinked heavily at the empty bed beside you. The space she had been seconds ago. 
You wanted to shake your head, but with the freight train pounding in your skull, you knew that was a terrible idea. 
“This is a very different starting eleven for England, but it’s what we expected. The only change of note is that Alessia Russo is unavailable for this game.” 
Your eyebrows furrowed at the television, flashing the starting lineup for the game. 
Natasha said Alessia wasn’t starting, but you expected her to at least be on the bench. 
You closed your eyes and let your head fall back. 
What was the point of suffering alone if Alessia wasn’t even going to play?
You weren’t sure anymore.
******
“I’ve got her,” 
You stirred at the familiar voice, and the feeling of gentle fingers running through your hair and the bed shifting next to you. The scent of lavender and honey wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, pulling you closer to consciousness. 
Your eyebrows pulled tightly together before your eyes flickered open, meeting the familiar blue of your girlfriend. 
“Hey there,” She said softly, her thumb smoothing out the crease between your eyebrows. “How are you feeling?”
You opened your mouth, but nothing but a low hacking cough came out. 
“Easy, little one,” Alessia shushed you softly. “Just relax. I’m here, and I’ll take care of you now, ok?”
It was painful how real she felt. Painful how much you wanted to believe she was here with you. 
“Trouble,” You mumbled, coughing violently afterward, unable to stop yourself from leaning into her hand. 
“I think we should make it your middle name since you seem to find it so often,” She murmured, running her hand again through your hair. “But no. You’re not in trouble. Not right now,”
You made a low, wheezing sound, shaking your head, despite the waves of nausea it sent to your stomach. “Real daddy disagrees,” 
She frowned. “Real daddy?”
You swallowed hard, forcing words past your stolen vocal cords. “Not here. In Luxembourg. Won’t fool me again,” 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” She said, her nails dragging against your scalp in the way she knew you loved. “Natasha called me last night, and I got on the flight as soon as I could,”
It took a few extra seconds for her words to filter through the unpleasant haze in your brain. Even then, they didn’t make sense. 
Hell, her entire demeanor, including the softness in her features as she looked at you, didn’t make sense. 
You explicitly told Natasha not to call her, and you couldn’t process her going against that request. Not when Alessia had a game to play. 
“My brain is making you up,” You wheezed after another long second. 
She breathed out a half chuckle. “While your brain is brilliant, I wasn’t conjured by it,” 
You made a low, husky sound that could only be incredulity. 
Her thumb again smoothed the space between your eyebrows. “What will it take for you to believe you’re awake?”
You blinked heavily at her, your shoulders lifting and falling. 
She shook her head. “You’re too much,”
“No,” You mumbled, the crease between your eyebrows pushing against her finger. “‘M a good girl,”
“Yes. You are always my good girl, even when you’re being a stubborn pain in the ass,” She agreed fondly, leaning down to press a kiss to your too-warm forehead. “Sleep. I’ll be here where you wake up, and maybe you’ll actually believe you’re not dreaming,”
“Promise?” you asked. Sounding small, as exhaustion pulled at you. 
She hummed. “I promise,”
Her fingers kept their soft rhythm in your hair as your eyes fluttered closed, and you shifted to press your nose into her shoulder, breathing in her perfume with each rattling intake from your lungs. It surrounded you, soothing the burning in your chest, and soothing the sharp edges in your throat. 
For the first time since the lingering tickle started, you actually felt at peace. You felt calm enough to let yourself truly relax. 
It would suck when you woke up and Alessia was gone, but doing anything other than allowing your mind to linger in this delusion felt unbearable. 
Instead, you allowed yourself to sink into the overwhelming pull of exhaustion. 
And you swore you heard an “always,” before sleep pulled you under. 
Even if this alessia didn’t turn out to be real, you trusted her. And as angry as you wanted to be at Natasha and Steve for calling her, you knew she was exactly what you needed. 
She always would be, even if she was just made up in your mind. 
282 notes ¡ View notes
wtfaniii ¡ 16 hours ago
Text
I can do it alone, but he can also save me
Fem reader x Hwang In-ho / Fem reader x Hwang Jun-ho
Part 1 // Part 2
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•Summary: Jun-ho's girlfriend was a decorated policegirl, strong and brave, she, along with Gi-hun were taken to the games to stop them, however, there was a setback in between
•Note: Thanks for the support! Here I bring you the second part of this one shot that is personally one of my favorites.
•Warning: Maybe some drama, Some violence and attempted abuse, ¡Don't worry! this man arrives on time like a prince on a white horse
N/A: I haven't checked this yet, sorry if it has spelling mistakes
Gi-hun had told some participants that the next game would be dalgona, but it was not so and now they were upset with him, surrounding him and complaining about his mistake, calling him a "liar."
—You guys decided to play these games —the girl said standing in front of Gi-hun —Face the consequences and don't expect someone to come and save us.
—He's a fraud! —Player 100 shouted at him, pointing at accusingly and with contempt.
—ibelieve in him word —001 interrupted, standing next to her.
Due to the first impression that the two made on all the players, the complaints immediately stopped and retreated.
—It's nothing, I really believe you —Young-il said with a friendly expression
—And if you allow me... I would like to be on your team.
The next game would be in teams of five players, counting the girl, Gi-hun, Jung-bae, Dae-ho and now Young-il, they were full, however, when they were talking to get to know each other a little, a woman with the number 222 on his uniform approached them cautiously.
—¿Can I be on your team? Please —Jung-bae was going to interrupt her to tell that they were full but the young woman finished his sentence first —I'm pregnant.
The five pairs of eyes fell on the small bulge of her belly and noticed that it was true. Immediately, the woman spoke. —I'll look for another team.
—¿Are you sure you'll do it?— In-ho asked, looking at her carefully. A person who looked out for someone else's well-being in these games was rare to see, but considering the situation, it was quite understandable. He wouldn't give up his place if he wasn't so interested in his enemy.
She nodded confidently and left to find another team, it didn't take long, after all, most people took advantage of having someone like her on their team just by considering the word "police" in their introduction.
Once the teams were formed and they were told what had to do, they sat on the floor to wait the turn.
As time passed and gunshots mixed with screams sounded in the background, the young woman thought silently.
ÂżWill Jun-ho be okay? She really hoped so, she had known him for four years and knew that there were times when he could go to extremes to get what wanted.
It was something she loved about him but right now just worried about.
—¿What game are you going to play? —246 asked sitting next to her, momentarily taking her out of his thoughts.
—Gonggi —answered immediately, she was very good at that game, it had been his favorite since she was a child.
The others nodded and continued talking, she didn't go there with the intention of socializing too much.
For starters.
She was only there because Jun-ho had asked her to.
Jun-ho...
She just hoped him could find her and Gi-hun in time.
The policeman had no intention of stopping now, even without having the tracker active and with the fact that apparently someone was sabotaging them from inside, he was not going to stop searching.
The woman he loved was in those games, that wasn't going to be the plan, she was only supposed to be Gi-hun's bodyguard but things didn't go as planned.
—I think we should stop, it's almost time to eat and we're a bit far from the shore.
—We can't be so close now —he said, somewhat irritated and helpless. —Every minute they spend on that island is a danger.
He felt guilty for having dragged her into his own problems.
He remembered the last conversation he had with her before he lost sight of her.
[...]
—We are police officers —Jun-ho said, showing his badge to the guard who was guarding the entrance of the place
—Just like everyone else tonight —the man said with a mocking laugh, pointing at the long line waiting to get into the Halloween party.
Jun-ho didn't have enough patience to tolerate this, so with no other choice he went up to the man and took his gun out of his pocket.
—¿Do you want to see if this is a toy?
The guard stepped back in fear, giving them free passage.
The girl smiled proudly and waved her hand as if it were hot while sighed.
—That's my man —she boasted to the guard as they crossed the entrance. Jun-ho managed to hear her and inevitably a sly smile appeared on his lips.
—We have to find him before they do —he said, referring to Gi-hun searching the crowd but no masked pink guard was visible.
—It will be faster if we separate —she added, taking out her weapon and pointing it at the ground just to be ready in case used it —When we leave here it will be fondue night —she said without losing her charming touch.
It was something they both shared, despite being in tense situations like this, comments like that were never lacking, especially from the girl and that was something Jun-ho adored, her daring was part of what made the policeman fall in love with her.
—Maybe I should drag you into my problems more often —He replied with a smile and separated from her.
The girl was the first to find Gi-hun and surprisingly they let her get into the limo with him.
Jun-ho was unhappy about that but he couldn't change her mind and just when they thought they could intercept the front man of those suicide games they were forced to make a last-minute decision by shooting at the tires of the cars.
[...]
His stomach turned just remembering what people go through inside those games, he trusted that she could survive but the odds of not making him tremble and want to vomit.
—Okay... we'll call off the search —He relented after a few minutes.
He looked up at the sky and asked whoever would listen him to keep the woman he loves alive.
Meanwhile on the island, they had managed to get through the second game alive, she was sitting with Gi-hun's team silently watching around them when 001 sat next to her.
—Hi... —he greeted her with a soft smile, hoping that the mask being Young-il was convincing enough to fool her —I'm curious... if you're a police officer, ¿how did you end up here?
—¿Debts? —She replied with a false smile —My job was to take care of Mr. Seong but it didn't turn out the way I had in mind —she admitted, looking away again but feeling Young-il's intense gaze on her.
—So... ¿you're here as an undercover agent? —he asked, feigning surprise and curiosity.
He himself was the one who gave the order to allow her to also get into the limousine to accompany Gi-hun.
In-ho knew his brother would be worried about her, searching for her relentlessly, but it was inevitable, he needed to meet her in person and be sure how good of an influence she was on Jun-ho.
Or at least he thought it was a good excuse.
—Yeah... —She looked at him silently and attentively when she noticed a certain peculiarity in him appearance —¿Do I know you from somewhere? I feel like I've seen you before...
Him face seemed familiar but she couldn't figure out why. In-ho kept eye contact with her, waiting for her answer.
It was a pity, if she recognize it him had no other option to let her die in the next games but luckily for the girl she denied it.
—Forget it, I'm just stressed ¿And why are you here?
—My wife is sick and pregnant.
She looked at him with pity as he told her his story, it wasn't a lie, it was just that it happened years ago and he couldn't do anything to keep her alive.
—I'm sorry —The girl said after he finished his words.—I promise we'll get out of here and I'll help you as much as I can with the expenses.
The police had money, not to say that she was a millionaire but she lived in a good social status, she was willing to help him only because her heart was softened by him story.
–You barely know me, ¿why would you do that?
—My boyfriend has also had a somewhat hard life and I took this job for a reason, to help others.
She did not consider herself a saint, but if she had the opportunity to do something good for other people, she would do it regardless of the consequences.
—Also... I think I'm pregnant —She said with a small smile.
How chaotic and unfair could fate be that just one night before she was to go to the medical laboratory for her results, she was taken to those games against will.
On the other hand, she could also feel a slight connection with this stranger, which was why she revealed that to him so naturally, but she still didn't know exactly why.
—I have to go to the bathroom, I'll be right back.
He nodded and watched her leave but his eyes also noticed three other suspicious looking players who followed her into the bathroom.
Without thinking twice he also stood up.
Not even two minutes had passed since she entered the bathroom when a woman grabbed her by the collar of the jacket and threw her backwards, making her fall on back.
–¿You remember me? —the woman demanded, looking at her with disdain and annoyance
—No —She answered standing up.
—You threw my husband into prison and won't be out for another twenty years —The woman pulled out a small pocket knife and another woman stood behind the police girl to hold her —I thought about how to kill you for days.
—Very cute, I still don't know who you are.
Those words only made the woman even more furious as lunged at her and tried to stab her,
Her hard training served her well in this unarmed fight.
But she was counting on another man to come in to help the two players who were trying to kill the young policewoman.
—Three against one unarmed is not fair... —she gasped for air as saw that he had a small opening in his head, her had hit himself on the sink at one point during the fight.
—¡It was also not fair that my husband was sentenced to twenty years in prison for attempted abuse!
—Oh, believe me, I tried to make it forty.
A kick to the face from one of them managed to stun her long enough to give them time to pin her down on the cold, damp bathroom floor.
She couldn't hear clearly what they were saying but when she saw how the man placed himself on top of her, their intentions were quite clear.
She didn't have enough strength to continue defending himself, her felt bleeding from his leg from the knife and the cut on his head hurt, but like a hero coming to save the day, Young-il walked through the door and shouted "Hey!"
That small interruption was enough for her to hit the man in the genitals with her knee, making him move away and moan in pain.
She was too stunned to see what was happening, but before she knew it, he had her in him arms and walked out of the bathroom leaving the two women unconscious on the floor and the man with a bleeding nose.
—¡You should do a better job as guards! —he yelled at the two pink soldiers guarding the door, she didn't know it but that scolding was enough to fire those two.
He carefully led her to the men's room where, due to his front man advantages, he was able to have a guard deny another player access until he said so.
—Thanks... —Her murmured as he dropped her on the ground—But I had it under control.
She let out a giggle that made his ribs hurt, In-ho refrained from laughing, now he had to focus on fixing her wounds.
—Being a police officer you made many enemies —He said while using his jacket with some water to clean her.
—You have no idea.
In-ho continued to clean her wounds and after a few minutes everything was better for her, the girl stood up cautiously because of the wound on her leg and thanked Young-il with a small bow.
—Thanks for helping me, for the second time.
—I hope it doesn't become routine —he said with a soft smile, looking her up and down unconsciously.
When they came out of the bathroom there were suspicious glances but neither of them cared.
It was cute, she liked the way this man treated whenever her found himself in trouble, in a way he reminded her of Jun-ho,
She liked that even though she could defend herself, there was still a knight in shining armor who would arrive in the worst situations.
Young-il, the gentleman who arrived just in time and the only one who knew about her suspected pregnancy.
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necarion ¡ 19 hours ago
Text
In undergrad, I was on a choir search committee for a new director. We had a fantastic audition by a prospective director who did everything right and would have made us a much stronger choir. But toward the end of his audition, he said "looks like I'm running out of time, let's move to the last part" and then spent basically the perfect amount of time on it.
But about 75% of reviews mentioned "bad with time management" as problems. Friends, he was not bad with time management, he just gave an unimportant area a little less time. But he said it, and that probably doomed his chances.
The choir's first choice was ultimately picked. And she was a disaster of time management. She never said so, because she didn't realize it. But the choir suffered badly for it (and from other issues).
Ran into a kid today who reminded me of what's probably some of the best advice I've ever received
People usually don't notice your mistakes, right?
They definitely notice some of them, but not all of them
So when you apologize for every mistake, the second you make it, you're kind of just highlighting that extra stuff that might have slipped by, and suddenly they DO notice every tiny thing
So like
If you hurt someone, apologize
If you don't hurt someone, and it's something you can easily fix, fix it first
If you just suspect someone has a problem with you, they can tell you. That's their responsibility
Or
If youre a compulsive apologizer, focus less on seeking forgiveness and more on the thrill of getting away with it
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