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a-leg-without-fear · 2 months

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Strange Love

i am so fucking obsessed with this man it ain't even FUNNY. oh btw here's some filth

Ship: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Fem!Reader 🩸

Rating: 18+ (i need jesus)

Wordcount: 4.5k

Warnings: smut, foreplay, mentions of PTSD, bloodplay, PnV sex, oral (fem!receiving), fingering, logan's teeth, choking, knifeplay, slight voyeurism if you squint seriously this is so dirty i NEED jesus

Song: Strange Love by Halsey

It wasn’t the tossing and turning that woke you. It wasn’t the occasional movement of his hands, the pushing into your side, the sheets being tugged off your body. You had grown accustomed to the flinches and twitches. Those things were typical when sharing a bed with someone.

It was his breathing. Short, quick, ragged. Like a band of iron was squeezing his chest and restricting his lungs.

Your eyes snapped open and flicked to Logan. He was covered in sweat, beads dripping down his forehead plastered in drenched hair. His teeth were bared, grinding. Sharp canines digging into his bottom lip and splitting the skin before the wounds would seal themselves. Fists clenched in the damp sheets, claws just barely poking out of between his knuckles, fingers squeezing the cotton between them.

Right, a nightmare. He was having a nightmare.

These were a nightly occurrence for him. Logan’s past would dredge itself up in his sleep and torture him for hour upon sleepless hour. Raking his mind through the coals only for him to wake up and not remember a thing.

It was risky to wake him like this. Once, Marie had tried to get him to wake up only for Logan’s adamantium claws to end up pierced in her stomach. She was fine, having briefly absorbed Logan’s healing ability and allowed herself to live.

That wasn’t a risk you could take. You had a minor amount of healing your body was capable of. Smaller cuts and bruises were your specialty. You could manipulate the rate at which blood flowed and carried the necessary chemicals in order to seal wounds and reverse bruising. Foot-long claws stabbed into your abdomen weren’t something you could easily fix.

You cleared your throat, shifting to the side of the bed opposite him, and said, “Logan?”

No response. He continued to breathe heavily, eyes darting back and forth beneath his furrowed brow. You sat up, determined to end this round of nightly torment.

“Logan? Hun, wake up,” you said, louder than the previous attempt. A string of incoherent mumbles escaped between his clenched teeth. You sighed and climbed out of bed. Turning to face him and crossing your arms, you braced yourself and yelled, “Logan!”

His hazel eyes flew open as he jolted up, claws shooting out and chest heaving. Silver light glinted off the six razor sharp claws jutting out of his fists. The sheets bunched around his bare waist, his pillow falling off the bed and onto the floor.

“Logan?” you asked, as quiet and calming as possible. Logan’s gaze shifted to you from darting wildly around the room. As soon as his eyes met yours, the claws retreated back beneath his flushed and clammy skin.

He swallowed with difficulty as his mind registered who you were. You could practically see the gears turning beneath his soaked, dark hair.

“Logan? It’s me,” you said. Logan squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed at his eyelids.

“Shit, I’m sorry, doll. Did I wake you?” he grunted. He leaned back on one arm as he smoothed his hair away from his face. It was hard to prevent your gaze from wandering. A toned, tanned chest peppered in dark chest hair melting into defined abs with a trail of dark hair leading beneath the sheets. It took a lot of willpower to look back at Logan’s face.

“Eh, I’m used to it,” you replied, an easy smile falling across your lips. You kneeled back on the bed and ran a comforting hand along his shoulder. His gaze fell to your hand then met your eyes again.

“It’s not the best thing to get used to,” he said. You could feel the muscles in his shoulder tensing under your palm. A frown stretched across his face, “I shouldn’t be wakin’ you every night.”

“It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make,” you said softly. You lifted your free hand and smoothed out the wrinkles created by his furrowed eyebrows. Logan smacked your hand away as you laughed.

“Seriously. I could hurt you,” he insisted. To emphasize his point, a single claw extended from his right hand, opposite of the side closest to you. He lifted the metal beside his face and said, “When I sleep, I ain’t in control of these things. I… I can’t lose you.”

You raised your hand, running your fingertips across Logan’s arm, before taking his fist in yours. He allowed the action, keeping the claw extended. You moved his hand closer to your face.

“What’re you doin’?” he asked, tugging his hand out of yours. The silver claw retracted back between his knuckles. You sighed while climbing into his lap, straddling his hips with your thighs. You grabbed the same hand again.

“Do you trust me?” you asked. Logan’s glare searched for some kind of trick or fear hiding behind your amused expression.

“Of course I do,” he replied, albeit a little apprehensive. You placed a chaste kiss to his middle-finger knuckle.

“Then extend your claw, handsome,” you breathed into his skin.

Logan’s shoulders shuddered, his eyes falling closed as a strained breath floated from his lips. The hand you had stroking along his neck shifted to bury its fingers in his hair. His back arched, his bare chest meeting your sleep shirt.

“Vampire-”

“Extend your claw. I’ll prove that you’ll never hurt me,” you whispered. Your lips trailed across his knuckles while your fingers tangled in the soft strands at the base of his neck. A quiet groan bounced around inside Logan’s chest.

Slowly, reluctantly, his middle adamantium claw slid out of his fist. Moonlight danced along the sharp edge and gave the claw an almost ethereal glow. You turned Logan’s hand, inspecting the claw at all angles, enjoying the reflections it projected on the walls.

“Do you trust me?” you said, repeating yourself. You needed absolute clarity before continuing. Logan nodded as another shudder worked its way over his chest. You ran your eyes over his expression. His eyes were closed, tense, his lips parted slightly. The hand you had in his hair rested on his jaw, fingers buried in his short beard, thumb tracing his bottom lip, “Yes or no, Logan.”

“Yes. Yes, doll, I do,” he replied.

With the affirmation you needed, you shifted your focus back to the threatening claw in front of you. You considered it for a moment. The length, the width, the sharp edge. Squaring your shoulders and steeling your nerves, you brought his hand closer to your face as you parted your lips.

You ran the blade along the center of your tongue. The bite of cold metal pierced your flesh and stung as it slid along the muscle. You felt blood pool in your mouth, leaking out of the corners of your lips and down your chin.

Logan’s eyes popped open when the scent of your blood filled his nose. He yanked his fist away as his claw disappeared. Both of his palms clung to the sides of your face. You kept your mouth open, smiling, cradling the pooling blood on your tongue.

“What the shit? The hell’s wrong with you, vampire?” Logan exclaimed. Your smile held steady as his expression grew frantic. You watched Logan’s face closely as you enacted your plan.

Your blood began to float out of your mouth in small beads, tiny planets chasing each other, flying from your tongue and into the air around you, forming a ring circling your head. Once you’d cleared most of the blood, you focused on closing the wound. You felt the flesh knit itself back together inch by inch, wound stitching itself closed. When the last bit of leaking blood had exited your mouth, your tongue fully healed, you closed your smile and let the droplets orbit your head.

“You won’t hurt me, Logan. No more than others have in the past,” you said. Logan’s expression remained unchanged, still eyeing you like you were fucking insane, hands clutched to both sides of your face. You stuck your tongue out again. “See? No harm done.”

“You… You can heal?” he asked. His thumb glided across your face to run along your bottom lip. You let your mouth fall open so he could see the absence of blood. He scoffed, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s not nearly as strong as yours. I can heal surface level stuff on anyone, not just me. Blood manipulation and all,” you explained. A fond smile remained settled across your face. You willed the blood floating around you to soar through the air in a stream, like crimson ribbons braiding and weaving into each other, before directing it into an empty glass on the nightstand.

Logan looked like you had told him the wildest theory about the moon landing imaginable. Eyebrows raised to his widow’s peak, nose scrunched, lips parted, eyes wide. It would have been amusing, laughable even, if it wasn’t such a tense moment.

Without warning his mouth was on yours, fingers tangled in your hair, arms shoving your chest against his. His hips rocked up against yours and you felt just how hard this conversation had made him. You gasped into his mouth when he tugged at the base of your neck.

“All this time,” he murmured. One of his hands left your hair and tugged up the hem of your t-shirt. His teeth trailed from your lips, to your jaw, to the soft skin at the crook of your neck, “All this fuckin’ time. I was worried I’d hurt you. That I’d wake up and skewer you like I did Rogue.”

A choked moan escaped your lips when his hand squeezed at your breast. Rough and calloused and almost mean. Logan’s sharp canines nicked the skin above the artery that ran beneath your ear. You whined as blood leaked from the new wound.

“But you? You’re just full of fucking surprises, aren’t you?” he said. He licked a broad swipe across the blood streaming down your throat. You ground down into his cock, the heat between your thighs seeking as much friction as possible. Both of you moaned as the deep liquid coated Logan’s mouth.

“We’ve got-shit, plenty of time to find them all,” you said through a breathless grin. The fingers in your hair tightened and tugged your head back, baring your throat as Logan lapped at your neck, staining it red.

You continued to grind into him while your hands gripped his forearms. Your nails dug into his skin, pinpricks of red sprouting around the crescent shapes. You brought a finger up to your mouth and licked along the tip of the nail. An explosion of copper coated your freshly healed tongue. A taste like none you’d ever had before, like a long-aged wine that’d just been opened.

You needed to have more.

The knife you kept on your nightstand, the pommel a glass ball filled with your blood, swished through the air and landed in your open palm. Your other hand carded through Logan’s hair in an attempt to get his attention.

“Can I cut you?” you breathed. A feral grin spread across Logan’s face. His claw shinked back out of his fist and slashed down your shirt. The cotton separated like butter under a hot knife, your shirt sagging down your shoulders and falling away from your chest. A thin cut was left between your breasts. Like a red clay path between two rolling hills.

“As long as I can cut you,” he replied, tongue tracing the new wound. Your head fell back as you arched into his mouth, doing your best to focus on closing the bite in your neck. Getting the skin to connect was growing more difficult as Logan coated his tongue in red and his half-lidded eyes met yours.

“Fuck, okay, I’ll take that as a yes,” you said through gritted teeth. You shrugged off your destroyed t-shirt as you felt the cut on your neck close. Your left hand tugged at Logan’s hair, bringing his lips back to yours, bare chests colliding.

The air between you grew heated and humid. Teeth clashed, tongues darted into each other’s mouths tasting of copper and sin, claws and nails and blade slicing through skin, fingers pulling on hair. Each wound that closed was replaced with a fresh one, tongue and lips following the lines of leaking blood. If you were normal both of you would be covered in more scars than one could count. But, because you were mutants, the skin sealed as if nothing had ever pierced it. Smooth and soft and absolutely covered in blood.

You felt the room spin as you and Logan flipped. He had one hand on your shoulder, pinning your torso to the bed, while the other wrapped around your throat. His broad, warm hand nearly encompassed your whole neck. The power he held over you stoked the flames in your abdomen to burn away at your sense and reason.

His mouth was back on yours, drinking from you like a dying man. Teeth nipped at your lips, your tongue, your chin. Sharp bites that left the taste of copper in their wake. The hand on your shoulder traveled down your overheated body. Passing over swathes of skin painted red and bruises long since dissipated. His fingertips brushed along the waistband of your shorts and a growl reverberated from his throat.

“You have three seconds to get these off before they’re ripped off,” Logan said, the words echoing in your mind like a prayer in an empty chapel.

You had never stripped yourself so fast in your life. Your fumbling hands slipped beneath your waistband, having to concentrate on both getting naked and Logan’s mouth on yours, and you slipped both your panties and your shorts off in one pull. You kicked them off the bed in record time.

“Mm, that was five seconds. I’ll need to see to that later,” he said, kissing down your jaw between growled words. A shiver rolled across your spine at the way his voice thrummed against your neck. You felt the hand gripping your throat tighten, restricting your breathing, making you gasp. Your hands launched forward, seeking anything to grab in their path, landing on the forearm choking you. Logan nipped your collarbone as he said, “Don’t be surprised to see those shorts in shreds tomorrow.”

He loosened his grip slightly, letting warm air back into your heaving lungs. You felt your pulse rushing in your ears.

“Logan, please,” you whimpered. The heat between your legs was unbearable. Wave after wave of arousal slammed into your trembling body and left you breathless. Your thighs were definitely soaked. You could feel wetness dripping off your skin and onto the sheets below you. Logan bit harder at your lowest rib, making you cry out, “Please! I need you. Please, Logan.”

“I’ve got you, hotstuff. Don’t worry,” he purred. His canines dragged along your stomach, leaving fire in their wake, as he shifted lower on your body. The hand gripping your throat slid down your chest and pinned your hips in place, arm slung across your stomach like a lead pipe. His free hand massaged and groped at your shaking thighs. He looked up at you through his eyelashes, grinning, “So polite, how can I refuse?”

The first pass of his tongue through your cunt made your back bow off the bed. Your hands scrabbled against the soaked sheets, nonsense and cries of ecstasy escaping through your kiss-swollen lips.

A low groan passed through his throat and vibrated against your clit. Your eyes rolled back in your head at the shocks of pure pleasure zipping through your bloodstream.

“Fuck, sugar. All this just for me, huh?” he murmured. You weren’t entirely sure if it was meant for you, but before you could decide he buried his face in your cunt. Tongue spearing inside you, nose bumping against your clit, large fingers holding you open. The air inside your lungs shot out of you like a bullet.

If your mind had any sense left, the sounds you and Logan were making would’ve been obscene. The wet squelching of him licking at your folds, his rough grunts, your breathless moans and airy whimpers. It would’ve made you embarrassed to ever show your face outside of this room again. But with Logan between your thighs and his arm braced across your abdomen, you could hardly care.

He shifted so his lips could wrap around your clit, sucking and running the blunt edge of his teeth over where you’re most sensitive. A startled yelp kicked out of your mouth. Your hands flew to his hair and tangled in the damp strands. You felt his fingers run along your entrance, gathering slick along the calloused pads.

“You want me inside you, doll?” he asked huskily, sounding almost as wrecked as you felt. It took all your willpower to lift your eyelids and meet Logan’s eyes.

“Please. Please, please, I need you Logan,” you slurred. Your grip on his hair tightened in an attempt to emphasize your point.

He latched back onto your clit, eyes still locked with yours, as two fingers pushed inside you. The digits entered you with almost no resistance, you were so soaked. A loud moan fell from your lips as the accompanying noise from your cunt made you feel fucking filthy.

“Fuck, doll,” he grunted against your clit. He started pumping his fingers inside you, slow at first, letting you feel every ridge and knuckle glide in and out, making sure to brush against that spot inside you that made you see stars every time. Your thighs involuntarily clenched around his head. Your head flew back against the mattress beneath you, breath leaving your gaped mouth in quick bursts.

When his pace increased, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. That coil in your core was tightening at a speed that even Peter couldn’t compete with. Your fingers scraped at Logan’s scalp, breathing seeming to be a thing of the past.

“Come for me, vampire,” he said, slipping a third finger inside you. The claws attached to the arm across your waist extended, piercing into the mattress and securing you further on the bed. If Logan wasn’t who he was, you’d be afraid of hurting him from how tight your thighs were squeezed around his head. But that chrome dome was nowhere near perturbed as he shoved you into your first orgasm of the night.

Sparks of white hot electricity short-circuited your brain and rendered you breathless. Your back seized up and arched off the bed, mouth flying open, breath halted inside frozen lungs. Pulsing, neverending, world-encompassing pleasure covered you like a thick, electrified blanket. Zaps of shityesgood sparked across your skin, burrowing deep into your flesh and filling your veins.

“There ya go, that’s a good girl,” Logan said. You barely registered him, the roaring in your ears was so loud. He continued to finger you through your orgasm, placing the occasional kiss on your hyper-sensitive skin, making you jolt.

It took several minutes for the aftershocks to stop, for the blanket to lift off your body. Logan slid his fingers out of you and brought them to his lips. Low groans brought you back to reality as he licked your slick off his fingers.

His claws retracted as he climbed back up your body, placing sloppy wet kisses as he went. You hummed when his lips found yours. You could taste yourself on his tongue, tangy and salty and distinctly you. Mixed with Logan’s smoke and whiskey, you felt like you could breathe this taste and grow intoxicated. You whined as Logan pulled back.

“Ready for more?” he asked. You nodded, biting your lip as a smile graced your features.

Logan grinned back as he hiked your legs up onto his hips and positioned himself by your entrance, cock hard and heavy in his hand. Your hands laced in his hair and yanked his mouth back to yours. The wet, hot tip of his cock glided through your folds, making both of you groan into each other’s mouths.

The first push inside stretched you almost to the point of pain, but you were so wet and needy you hardly cared. Your breathing grew ragged, panting into Logan’s open mouth, as he slid inside you. Every vein along his cock dragged against your walls, making you whine and cant beneath him.

When he was buried to the hilt inside you, hips connected with your thighs, he braced one hand above you while the other held your leg on his hip. It seemed to take all of his willpower to open his eyes and look down at you.

“Shit, you feel good. Doin’ alright?” he groaned. You nodded a frantic yes, gripping his hair tighter and touching his forehead to yours.

“Logan please fuck me, please, please,” you whispered. You were barely cognizant. Just a body made of an animalistic need. A pure, feral, unadulterated need that only Logan could satisfy.

Logan chuckled, “When you ask like that, doll, how could I say no?”

The slow drag out of you made you grieve the loss of feeling completely full. Your nails dug into Logan’s scalp as whiny moans passed through your clenched teeth. He whispered reassurance into your skin as he pushed back inside, a smooth glide all the way in. He tried to set a slow pace, tried to give you time to adjust. But the pleas spilling from your lips and the grip of your thighs around his hips gave him the last shove he needed.

Quick, wet slaps bounced around the room as he rammed into you, over and over and over again. Pounding into you so hard you swore you could feel him in your throat and that if you weren’t mutant, you would break. High moans met choked grunts in the air between you. The bed’s wooden headboard slammed into the wall behind you in pace with Logan’s thrusts.

And just like that his teeth were on you again. Biting and scraping and marking, drawing blood just for it to disappear under his tongue. Your shoulders, your collarbone, your breasts, your neck. None were left unmarked. And they remained ravaged, your mind too fractured by his relentless fucking to focus on healing yourself.

“Fuck, vampire,” he moaned against your skin. His eyes were glassy, distant. Like his entire mind was devoted to filling you to the brim over and over again. The hand braced above your head grabbed the back of your neck, lifting your head so his lips could crash into yours. You were a mess of teeth and tongues and blood. Mindless, breathless moans swallowed between you.

You could feel that coil again. It tightened tauntingly at each thrust, each pound into you that drove you further into insanity. Flames of pure need licked and burned along your skin, only satisfied when Logan was filling you to the brim. Jesus, if you couldn’t feel every thrust rattle your teeth and send you further into oblivion.

Logan adjusted above you, nearly folding you in half as both his hands landed next to you on the bed. Like this, every thrust hit that spot inside you. Splitting you open to leave nothing but a moaning mess behind.

He groaned above you, teeth gritted, and his claws shot out of his fists. The sound of fabric tearing filled your roaring ears. Deep gauges left in the mattress on either side of your head. Threatening, terrifying even. But to your fuck-drunk mind it only turned you on more. The unquenchable furnace burning in your core flamed into a blazing inferno. Your fingers scraped along his skin, searching mindlessly for something to ground you.

Another groan from Logan, reverberating from deep in his chest, as his forehead touched yours again. A spot of gentleness in the undeniably brutal way he was fucking you.

“I’m-Fuck!-I’m getting real close, doll,” he grunted, his pace never slowing or lessening in its ferocity. He unburied his hand from the bed, retracting his claws, and lowered it between your bodies to rub circles into your swollen clit.

“Ah! Fuck, Logan!” you yelped. You could feel yourself hurtling toward your inescapable second orgasm. Your eyes, unfocused as they were, tried to zero in on Logan above you. You felt like you were caught beneath a launching rocket, being blasted by the flames from the metal beast above you.

One, two, three more thrusts and then you were gone. Ecstasy poured into your veins like ink in water, drowning all you were, all you knew, all you felt. Eyes clouding over with swirling spots of black and white, the inferno in your core overtaking you like a forest fire. All you were was burned away, flames inhaling your body and mind, until all that was left was a mewling, breathless, writhing person that didn’t feel like yourself.

Logan wasn’t too far behind you. The relentless pounding inside you grew ragged, sloppy, his fingers tangling in your hair to let him breathe the same air as you. A sharp groan echoed from his chest as his thrusts stilled, spilling inside you. Hands gripped at the soft flesh on your hips, pinning you against him, prolonging his orgasm.

You felt weightless, like you were floating on the destroyed bed below you and the only thing keeping you grounded was Logan on top of you. Lazy, trembling fingers traced the veins on his forearms, still clutched to your sides. Your hazy vision focused on his face. Blissed out, eyes closed, chest heaving. You felt a lopsided grin stretch across your swollen lips.

“Told you, ya won’t hurt me,” you rasped. You must have screamed at some point, because your throat was scratchy and sore. Not that you minded.

Logan let out a breathless chuckle above you. His fingers massaged soothing circles into your hips as his eyes opened, gaze landing on your post-orgasmic smirk.

He cleared his throat then said, “You sure? I got pretty rough.”

Your eyes fell closed as you used the remaining fragments of your mind to close the wounds across your neck and chest, willing the skin to seal and the bruises to flush away. Once you were satisfied you opened your eyes again.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” you said, grinning. Logan shook his head, matching your grin, as he slid out of you. An involuntary whine slipped up your throat at the loss of him inside you. The loss was quickly remedied by him laying down beside you, wrapping you in his arms and tucking you against his chest. You settled in, nestling your cheek against his damp skin, while he hummed above you.

“I know you can, but I’m not so sure about the sheets.”

Embarrassment flooded your cheeks as you observed the carnage around you. The once (somewhat) pristine, light blue sheets were absolutely covered in blood, loose threads, and other results of what the two of you had just done. Not to mention the holes in the mattress that could no way in hell be fixed.

You let out a sigh as your hand covered your eyes, face flushed. Logan smirked and kissed the top of your head.

“We’ll get ‘em replaced, doll. Don’t worry about it,” he said, amusement at your situation laced in every word.

However, the two of you froze in response to the words that filled your heads, the disappointment palpable and tone icy.

“It’ll come out of your wallets.”

i'd like to thank @madschiavelique and @gracethyomen for encouraging my obsession with logan. much love to them both and the rest of the murdock tuna team 🐟

#wolverine #logan howlett #hugh jackman #wolverine fanfic #logan howlett fanfic #hugh jackman fanfic #xmen #xmen fanfic #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #this is FILTH please don't judge me #that honda odyssey scene rewrote my brain chemistry #and i am a weak weak leggy

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crumblinggothicarchitecture · 4 months

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Taylor Swift is a Female Rage icon? Get a Grip.

I’ve just received word that Taylor Swift is calling her show “Female Rage: The Musical.” Here is my very much pissed off response to that nonsense:

The phrase, Female Rage has an intimately rich history:

Some of the first accounts of female rage dates to the Italian renaissance. To be clear, women in those days were not allowed to become painters- the arts were seen as the domain of men. They did not believe that women have rich inner lives capable of delivering the type of artistic innovation with which renaissance men were obsessed.

However, rebels abounded, through the might of their fucking rage. Several women created some of the most compellingly emotional paintings I’ve ever fucking seen. They did it without permission, without financial support, and often under the threat of punishment. They did it as a protest. In paintings like “Timoclea Killing Her Rapist” by Elisabetta Sirani (1659), and another by Artemisia Gentileschi “Slaying of Holofernes” (1612) as it depicts the bravery of Judith as she slayed a traveling warlord out to rape Judith and enslave her city. The painting often is referred to as a way Artemisia was envisioning herself as slaying her rapist. These paintings were used against these women as proof that they were unfeminine- and far too angry. Both these women suffered immensely for their audacity to call attention to the violation men perpetrated on them. Female Rage bleeds off these paintings- bleeds right through to the bone-deep acknowledgement of the injustice women faced being barred from the arts and having their humanity violated in such a sick way. Both women were hated- and considered far too angry.

In philosophy, also as early as the 15th century, an example of female rage is a philosophical text, often hailed as one of the first feminists works in the western world, written by Christine de Pizan titled The City of Ladies (1405). She wrote in protest on the state of women- writing that “men who have slandered the opposite sex out of envy have usually know women who were cleverer and more virtuous than they are” (“The City of Ladies”). People mocked her all her life- but she stood fast to her convictions. She was widowed at a young age with children to feed and the men wouldn’t let women have jobs! She wrote this book and sold it so that she could feed her family- and to protest the treatment of women as lesser than men. Her work was called aggressive and unkempt- they said she was far too angry.

In the 18th century, a young Mary Wollstonecraft wrote, A Vindication of the Right of Women ( 1792) upon learning that the civil rights won in the French Revolution did not extend to women! She wrote in protest of the unjust ways other philosophers (like Rousseau) spoke about the state of women- as if they were lesser. She wrote to advocate for women’s right to education, which they did not yet have the right to! She wrote to advocate for the advancement of women’s ability to have their own property and their own lives! The reception of this text, by the general public, lead to a campaign against Wollstonecraft- calling her “aggressive” and far too angry.

Moving into modernity, the 1960’s, and into literary examples, Maya Angelou publishes I know why the caged Bird Sings (1969) in which she discusses the fraught youth of a girl unprotected in the world. It beautifully, and heart-wrenchingly, described growing up in the American South during the 1930’s as it subjected her to the intersection of racism and sexism. The story is an autobiographical account of her own childhood, which explains how patriarchal social standards nearly destroyed her life. Upon the reception of her book, men mostly called it “overly emotional” and far too angry. Maya Angelou persisted. She did not back down from the honesty with which she shared her life- the raw, painful truth. With Literature, she regained a voice in the world.

Interwoven into each of the examples I have pulled out here, is the underlying rage of women who want to be seen as human beings, with souls, dreams and hopes, yet are not seen as full members of society at the behest of men. They take all that rage, building up in their souls, and shift it to create something beautiful: positive change. Each of these cases, I have outlined above, made remarkable strides for the women as a whole- we still feel the impact of their work today. They were so god-damn passionate, so full of righteous anger, it burst out into heart-stopping, culture-shifting art. Feminine rage is therefore grounded in experiences of injustice and abuse- yet marked too by its ability to advocate for women's rights. It cannot be historically transmogrified away from these issues- though Taylor Swift is doing her best to assert female rage as pitifully dull, full of self-deprecation, and sadness over simply being single or losing money. She trivializes the seriousness with which women have pled their cases of real, painful injustice and suffering to the masses time and time again. The examples above deal with subjects of rape, governmental tyranny, and issues of patriarchally inspired social conditioning to accept women as less human than men. It is a deadly serious topic, one in which women have raised their goddamn voices for centuries to decry- and say instead, “I am human, I matter, and men have no right to violate my mind, body, or soul.”

The depictions of female rage over the last few centuries, crossing through many cultures, is an array of outright anger, fearsome rage, and into utter despair. The one unyielding, solid underpinning, however, is that the texts are depicting the complete agency of the women in question. The one uniting aspect of female rage is that it must be a reaction to injustice; instead of how male depictions of female rage function, (think Ophelia), the women are the agents of their art with female made- female rage. They push forth the meaning through their own will- not as subjects of male desires or abuses, but as their own selves. That is what makes the phrase so empowering. They are showing their souls as a form of protest to the men who treat women like we have no soul to speak of.

Taylor Swift’s so-called female rage is a farce in comparison. Let’s look at an example: “Mad Woman” (2020). I pull this example, and not something from her TTPD set, because this is one of the earliest examples of her using the phrase female rage to describe her dumb music. (Taylor Swift talking about "mad woman" | folklore : the long pond studio sessions (youtube.com)

The lyrics from “Mad Woman” read “Every time you call me crazy, I get more crazy/... And when you say I seem angry, I get more angry”

How exactly is agreeing with someone that you are “crazy” a type of female rage in which she’s protesting the patriarchy. The patriarchy has a long history of calling women “insane” if they do not behave according to the will of men. So, how is her agreeing with the people calling her crazy- at all subversive in the way that artworks, typically associated with concept of female rage, are subversive. What is she protesting? NOTHING.

Then later, she agrees, again, that she's “angry.” The issue I draw here is that she’s not actually explicating anything within the music itself that she’s angry about- she just keeps saying she's angry over and over, thus the line falls flat. The only thing this anger connects to is the idea of someone calling her angry- which then makes her agree that she is... angry. So, despite it being convoluted, it’s also just not actually making any kind of identifiable point about society or the patriarchy- so again, I beg, what on Earth makes this count as Female Rage?

In essence, she is doing the opposite of what the examples above showcase. In letting an outside, presumably male, figure tell Taylor Swift what she is feeling, and her explicit acceptance of feeling “crazy” and “angry,” she is ultimately corroborating the patriarchy not protesting it. Her center of agency comes from assignment of feelings outside of herself and her intrinsic agreement with that assignment; whereas female rage is truly contingent on the internal state, required as within our own selves, of female agency. As I stated above, the women making female rage art must have an explicit agency throughout the work. Taylor Swift’s song simply does not measure up to this standard.

Her finishing remarks corroborates the fact that she's agreeing with this patriarchal standard of a "mad" or crazy woman:

"No one likes a mad woman/ You made her like that"

Again, this line outsources agency through saying "you made her like that" thus removing any possibility of this song being legitimate female rage. There is simply no agency assigned to the woman in the song- nor does the song ever explicitly comment on a social issue or protestation of some grievous injury to women's personhood.

She honestly not even being clever- she's just rhyming the word “crazy” with “crazy.” Then later rhyming “angry” with “angry.” Groundbreaking stuff here.

Perhaps Taylor Swift is angry, in “Mad Woman,” but it is not the same type of rage established in the philosophical concept of female rage of which art historians, philosophers, and literary critics speak. Instead, it is the rage of a businesswoman that got a bad deal- but it is not Female Rage as scholars would identify it. In “Mad Woman” I fear her anger is shallow, and only centered on material loss- through damaging business deals or bad business partners. She is not, however, discussing what someone like Christine de Pizan was discussing by making a case for the concept that woman also have souls like men do. In her book, she had to argue that women have souls, because men were unconvinced of that. Do you see the difference? I am saying that Swift’s concerns are purely monetary and material, whereas true examples of female rage center on injustice done against their personhood- as affront to human rights. Clearly, both things can make someone mad- but I’d argue the violation of human rights is more serious- thus more deserving of the title “Female Rage.”

Simply put, Taylor Swift is not talking about anything serious, or specific, enough to launch her into the halls of fame for "Female Rage" art. She's mad, sure, but she's mad the way a CEO gets mad about losing a million dollars. She's not mad about women's position in society- or even just in the music industry.

She does this a lot. The album of “Reputation” was described as female rage. Songs in “Folklore” were described as female rage. Now, she’s using the term to describe TTPD, which is the most self-centered, ego-driven music I’ve heard in a long time.

Comparing the injustice, and complete subjugation, of women’s lives- to being dumped by a man or getting a bad deal- wherein she is still one of the most powerful women of the planet- is not only laughable, but offensive.

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satoruzlove · 2 years

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omi and his girly little gf <3

he thinks you’re so PRECIOUS. when he first saw you walking across campus with your nails done, shorter than most of your friends, dressed well and in pink he couldn’t stop thinking about you. atsumu had to snap him back into the conversation. kiyoomi thought that you looked like a pretty princess.

when you two become friends and talk more, he’s a little more obvious about it. when you get your nails done or ask him if he likes a skirt you got he always compliments how well it suits you, that pink is your colour!!

if you’re black, and you add pink into your braids/ dreads/ locs/ twists he thinks you look like an absolute FAIRY!!! you come back from the salon [ he wanted to come see you. he swears he did. but you didn’t let him for the ‘surprise’ of it): ] his mouth curls into a smile and his dimples are on display, he gets up from his spot on the sofa and asks if he can touch them. he clears some of the hair from your face and he places a feathery kiss on your forehead , “it’s not fair, how pretty you are,” he says.

kiyoomi just loves when you have french tips. he loves it. especially when the base is a pale pink colour, and the tips are just a crisp white. he loves how it contrasts with his black rings as he holds your hand. his heart flutters when your little, neat palm can only wrap around a few of his fingers. he loves how your manicured thumb rubs against his battered knuckles - it makes him feel dizzy.

he loves when you wear skirts or get new ones, he always twirls you around like you two were slow dancing. he’ll chuckle along with you when you giggle, “i think this one’s my favorite now,” he said to you ; although he’s said that about all 7 of the skirts.

don’t you dare try to do anything when you’ve just gotten your nails done. laundry? he’ll help. you wanna make yourself smth to eat? nah, he’s got it. you wanna shower??? why????? he’ll just clean you🤞🏻🤞🏻. his big sister used to complain about having to do things with her nails on and he’d never let his sweet little princess do anything by herself ):

omi would absolutely let you do his makeup if you wanted to try a new makeup look. you sit him down, putting his bouncy curls in a little bun and then priming his face. his cheeks smush and squish as your small hands work on him gently. he can’t help the warmth in his chest when he feels that you’re making a conscious effort to be gentle when you’re soaping down his eyebrows or blending out the highlight. his favorite is when you put on mascara- the way your index finger tilts his chin upwards and you mutter a ,’ look up f’ me, kiyo’ in the most sugary sweet tone he’s ever heard. he replies with a simple , ‘ ‘kay’ that could never give away the butterflies in the pit of his belly.

lastly - he’s spoiling you ROTTEN. he’s got allll that athlete money for what???? you, obviously. you saw some pretty mary janes you wanna wear to work? done. you want new earrings? done. you want a necklace with his name on it? done. well, that part wasn’t a choice- but he’s still happy that you wanted it. if you two are out and you even say that something is cute , his immediate response is , “do you want it?” and he’s dead serious. even if it’s ridiculously over priced. if you’re someone who cries when they accept gifts i’m projecting i’m sorry consider his heart SHATTERED when he hears the break in your voice as you thank him. he’s coddling you, asking if you really hated the gift that much, but when you explain that it just overwhelms you he feels tears in his own eyes at how precious you truly are. his large hand caressing your head and the other rubbing gentle circles on your back, whispering to you that you deserve his gifts, his love, his patience because you give it back to him. you deserve to be a princess- his princess- forever</3333333

#sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa fluff #sakusa x reader fluff #sakusa x female reader #sakusa kiyoomi x female reader #sakusa kiyoomi drabble #sakusa kiyoomi domestic fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x female reader #haikyuu x reader fluff #first female reader fic #shittinf my pants

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br7ght · 9 months

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It's your reward Millie Bright x Mary Earps x Reader

summary: You've scored the winning goal at the World Cup Final and you've got two women ready to give you your reward.

warnings: dom!millie, sub!mary, brat!mary, sub!reader, threesomes, sex toys, strap-on, cunnilingus, fingering, praise kink, daddy kink (only if you squint), this fic is actually too filthy to write out all the warnings

pairing: millie bright x mary earps x reader

word count: 8000+ [you're welcome ;)]

Just a side note, this was my biggest challenge yet so feedback would be appreciated! Also, there is definitely a shit-tonne of typos, but you'll let me off once you've read it

“I can’t believe you scored the winner!” Mary squeals in genuine excitement, throwing off her jacket and jumping on top of you as you sat on the bed. It was the night after the World Cup Semi-Final win and the entire team had been out partying, a lot of the attention all focused on you. All the kindness from the girls was something you never really got used to, it made you blush uncomfortably. Yet when it was Mary grabbing your face and telling you how happy she was for you, you melted into her touch.

“You played well darling; you made us both so proud.” Millie beamed; her eyes glowing at you as if she held sunlight in her gaze. You felt your cheeks flush, going all shy as you were sure that you must have been bright red at the praise you were receiving from both girls.

“All I did was kick it at the right time, you were the ones stopping them from beating us.” You spoke truthfully even though you knew that your goal was easily the best you’d ever scored. It flew into the top left corner and even you were shocked that it went in.

“God, so humble.” Millie teased, stroking a strand of your hair behind your ear, her thumb caressing against your blushing cheeks. “I think this all calls for another drink, go get that bottle Maz.” She instructed, gesturing towards the fridge that had an unopened bottle of champagne that Millie had bought in anticipation of the win that she knew deep down you’d have tonight.

“I don’t think she needs anymore alcohol.” You giggle, watching Mary walk to the fridge, clear to everyone in the room that she was beginning to feel the small effects of the alcohol she had consumed with the rest of the team. She popped open the bottle, overexcitedly cheering as the champagne began to pour from the top, clasping her tips over the leaking bottle to stop it from making a mess on the hotel floor. You and Millie were in stitches as you watched her chaos erupt in front of you both.

“The rest is for you, golden girl.” Mary smiled as the red returned to your calmed cheeks. She walked towards you, a stumble in her small steps as her thumb brushed your bottom lip, tipping your head back as she tips a little into your mouth.

“You really are our golden girl aren’t you.” Millie hummed, her hand still playing with your hair, taking a strand, and twirling it around her finger. Despite the small time you’d spent together as a three they both knew exactly how to make you squirm underneath them. Both of their hands on you and you were burning up in front of them.

“Watching you score that goal had made me so fucking hot for you.” Mary exclaimed, her body connecting with yours in a passionate flurry of arousal, straddling herself over your lap, your face in her hands and she pulls you in for a kiss. The feeling you got when her lips clashed into you, her heated frustration was contagious. She swiped her tongue across your lip, tasting the champagne on her mouth. Her tongue was moving with yours with such urgency that you didn’t see Millie reposition herself behind the other woman. Without hesitation, Millie pulls back on Mary’s ponytail, inciting a sharp gasp from the shorter woman.

“And what about you hm, making that incredible save against the best striker in the world.” She pulls Mary in for a rougher kiss, her head turned towards Millie at such an uncomfortable angle, but it allowed you the perfect view of Millie’s tongue swiping into her mouth, her hand reaching down to hold her by the throat. Their lips were moving together in such a way that made you wonder what they looked like together before they added you into the mix.

Everybody knew that Millie and Mary had been hooking up for months, they weren’t exactly subtle about it, making bold moves on each other at social events and then leaving together early on into the night. That’s why you were so confused when Mary made a move on you at the last Christmas party, that was until you found out that Millie had basically told her to do it. Mary had admitted that she was eager to hook-up with you and Millie wasn’t one to limit her, wanting her to do the things that made her feel the best she possibly could. Finding out that the two of them had discussed you in a sexual manner was something you found impossible to put to the back of your head and it all blossomed from that moment. Now here you were, Mary straddling over your thighs while Millie choked the woman who dominated you in such a way that you found it difficult to believe she was in this position.

“Now do you want to help me reward her.” Millie spoke into her ear, her heavy breath beating down against her neck, talking about you as if you weren’t underneath them both. Millie released her hands from her throat as she nodded eagerly, allowing her to turn back and look darkly into your eyes, her arms wrapping around your neck and pulling you back into a deep kiss. There was something about the way Mary would draw you into her body, making you tremble just at the feeling of her lips on yours. “What colour are you at?” She directed at you, you were fairly new to their dynamic and Millie liked to make sure that you were both entirely comfortable with everything she suggested.

“I’m completely green.” You smile, Mary nodding in agreement.

“Take her top off then baby.” Millie directed to Mary, the bed indenting slightly as she knelt beside you both. She complied immediately, never usually doing what Millie told her to do, but she wanted nothing more than to see your nipples harden when they make contact with the air of the room you all inhabited together. Once your top had come over your head, Millie’s fingers attacked the hair tie that was holding your hair loosely together, fanning your hair out over your shoulders.

You barely had time to think before you felt Millie’s hand snake around your body, grasping at your bare breasts, taking your nipple between her fingers, making you softly gasp into Mary’s mouth. This drove her crazy, her hips involuntarily grinding against your lap at nothing but the sound of you. Millie sensed her arousal and she wanted to make sure she felt as equally as important, finding great pleasure at having two women riled up in sexual frustration in front of her.

“I think you should get a reward too sweetheart.” She whispered into Mary’s ear, “You’ve made me so proud.” It was Mary’s turn to take Millie’s praise, both of you victims of her words that were making you simply kiss each other harder and with more desperation. Her hand found its way into Mary’s hair now, pulling her away from your lips and guiding her head towards your chest. Without much more prompt, Mary’s tongue swirled around the edge of your nipple, teasing you gently before taking it into her mouth. You feel your back arch against her lips connected to your chest so perfectly, your nipples hardening against her tongue as she increased her pressure, wanting to hear you moan so perfectly like she knows you can.

“I want you to ride her face while I give her a reward for playing so well.” Millie demanded and if you weren’t moaning desperately before, you certainly were now. Your eyes were wide, Mary’s gasp at the request vibrating against your nipple as she continued to tease you with her tongue.

“Is that okay with you baby?” Mary asks you, your breasts in her hands now as she kneads them underneath her palms, not wanting to let go of you as her desire to have you grew stronger.

“Fuck yes, Mary please.” You beg, her nails gripping into the sides of your chest at your pleading. She asked you with desperate eyes that you’d never seen before, she was usually so in charge of you and yet with one ounce of Millie’s praise and she was ready to give it all up.

Before you could even finish your train of thought, Mary was pushing you down the bed, sliding your skirt from your waist and both of the women smirk as they found nothing underneath. “Oh baby, you didn’t even wear underwear to the party.” Millie glowed, her proud smile telling you that you’d done something right. In Millie’s eyes you were the perfect submissive, you barely ever stepped a foot out of line, and you would do anything to make her happy with you. Mary was different. She challenged Millie a lot of the time, finding pleasure in being bratty, especially in comparison to you.

“Now my perfect girl, spread those legs for me, let me see how wet you are for us.” Millie had barely strung her sentence together and your legs were wide open, and Millie smiled down at you, dragging her fingers across your inner thighs. She could see you glisten on the inside of your legs, your lack of underwear meaning your arousal had spread down your legs.

“Mm absolutely soaking for us, and I bet this isn’t all from now, is it?” Mary asked you; her natural dominance always found a way to shine through, even when it was clearly Millie who held the control. You shook your head at her question, and you heard them both let out a scoff at the thought of your arousal starting to drip down your legs at the celebrations earlier just at the idea of coming back to this room with them.

You had your eyes shut in anticipation of what was to come, always feeling overwhelmed when the attention was completely on you. Mary was sat to the side of you, her clothes quickly chucked on the floor, her fingers pinching your nipples lightly, not enough to hurt you but enough to make you squirm under her touch.

“Mary baby, come keep her legs open and her mouth shut for me.” She instructs adding a sharp slap to her ass as Mary obliges, not even having to think about her body as she turns herself around. Mary knelt over your face, leaning down against your stomach, her hands gripping your thighs to keep them apart. Millie lies down between your legs, dragging her fingertip up and down your slit a few times, making you tremble at how light her touches were. As soon as Millie made contact with you, Mary let her body drop against your face and you followed Millie’s teasing on Mary’s folds, copying the same strokes she made but with your tongue.

Mary was anything but a quiet lover, she was the loudest of all three of you and those noises that she made was anything but innocent. You savoured the taste of her, this was one of your favourite things and they both knew this. You loved having her toned thighs squeeze against your head as she grinded down against your tongue, controlling her own pace as she rode your face. You remembered exactly how Mary liked to be ate, the exact twists and swirls of your tongue that made her head go fuzzy. You felt gentle kisses being placed against your clit, gasping against Mary which made her nails grip harder into your thighs, her hips moving against her will. The mix of Millie’s fingers teasing your entrance and the soft gentle movements of her lips against your folds was mind-blowingly pleasurable for such light touches.

“Fuck Fuck you feel so good, you’re so fucking good with that tongue of yours darling.” Mary gasped, her voice hitching over certain words as you quickened your pace, desperate to make Mary weak at the knees, you wanted her thighs to tremble around your face and you quickly gained this small pleasure. As Mary praised you, Millie teased a fingertip into you, her mouth around your clit making you a moaning mess against Mary’s cunt as the rest of her finger followed. Lost in your own pleasure you forgot to remember how Mary was staring directly at Millie going down on you along with slowly pulling her finger from your pussy before inserting it again, your arousal slick against her hand.

Once you were stretched around her finger you began to rock against Millies’s hand, giving her the signal that you were ready for her to thrust properly into you. Your moans were muffled and drowned out by Mary’s breathy gasps; the high-pitched sounds suddenly being cut off as Millie’s spare hand found its way around her throat. “God you both sound so fucking hot.” Millie let out, coming up for air and focusing on finding the points on Mary’s neck to clasp harder against, knowing that would send her into overdrive, her wrist slamming against your skin as she equally continues to fuck you at the same time.

Every time you felt Millie curl her fingers against your g-spot, the swirling of your tongue on Mary’s clit got quicker and you increased the pressure and you finally got what you wanted, her knees started to give way and you were convinced that the grip of her nails on your thighs was going to leave bruises. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop, your mouth feels so fucking good.” Mary managed to let out as Millie let go of her throat, allowing a full stream of oxygen enter her body.

“Don’t you dare fucking come Earps, I mean it, I want her to come first.” Millie ordered, her thrusts into you still getting quicker, her thumb nudging against your clit with every movement. Millie liked to dictate the act between you three, getting off on both of you listening and acting how she asks of you. She rarely got what she wanted as Mary enjoyed ruining this simple pleasure for her, and it didn’t look like this was going to change as you harden your tongue, flicking her swollen clit back and forth, knowing this would send her over the edge every single time.

“Mils she feels too good, I can’t stop, I want to cum on her face.” Mary gasped, her voice break paired with her shaking legs signalling that it was too late to listen to Millie’s orders now, she was going to cum on your face no matter what Millie wanted. You were beginning to get close, each thrust met with her thumb sliding against your clit.

“Mary, I’m warning you.” But by the time Millie had even finished her sentence, her words were cut off by Mary’s moans, her hips jerking uncontrollably against your face, you found your hands on her thighs, pulling her down closer as she rode out her orgasm. Before you had chance to join in on the high all contact from you was removed. You whined, your building orgasm stilling.

“You are so fucking good with your tongue.” Mary let out; her head hung as her body calmed after the shocks through her body started to relax. You were still underneath her, the frustration between your legs at the loss of contact so close to your orgasm doubling the arousal to your surprise. It had turned you on more than you thought it would.

“Clearly too fucking good considering you couldn’t do what I asked.” Millie growled, grasping a handful of Mary’s hair, and forcing her to meet her gaze. Millie was met with a smirk, no level of remorse shown for disobeying her orders and she knew that Mary was going to be as much of a brat as she could, like usual, still refusing to submit to her without a fight. “Get on your knees now.”

“Make me.” Even you knew that was a mistake as you felt Mary being forcefully pulled off your body, hitting the ground with a thump. You watched in suspense as Millie placed her on her knees, knowing that Mary needed more than you did to submit fully to her. Your eyes were darting back and forth between the two women, observing how Millie grasped Mary’s face in between one hand.

“You’re going to stay like this, you didn’t listen to me, and you need to learn to be more like y/n.” Millie demanded, looking directly into Mary’s eyes, her smirk wiped completely from her face, and you felt your legs squeeze together at the combination of the praise but also the view of Mary on her knees for her. “Don’t do anything stupid, trust me you’re on your last chance.” She warned, her thumb sliding down against her bottom lip. “Colour?”

“Green.” Mary revealed in true honestly. As much as she didn’t want to admit how much she was enjoying being forced onto her knees on the cold wooden floor, her gaze still being able to catch glimpse of you lying there in suspense of what was left to come, she wasn’t going to lie about it.

“That’s a good girl.” Millie was the only one left with a smirk on her face, looking in awe at Mary finally on her knees for her, silence overwhelming the room as she walked over to the bed, straddling your body and stroking your hair behind your ear. With every touch your breath was shaking.

“I bet you’re desperate for a release after she ruined it for you hm?” Millie asked you directly, both of your eyes diverting to glance at the goalkeeper. She was sensing from your desperate groans and small squirms that you were accidentally edged by her. “Tell me what you want as your reward for doing everything I’ve said, you’ve earned it from being so well-behaved.”

You didn’t know what to say, at this point Millie could do anything to you but that’s not what you really wanted. You three had only shared a few moments together like this and usually the focus was completely on you, but this time had been different. Millie was trying to make Mary just as submissive as you, rather than letting her take turns. You wanted to watch Mary struggle against Millie’s fight for dominance, one that you knew Millie wouldn’t lose. From the second you watched the heat between them tonight you were so curious as to what they would look like together, alone.

“I want to watch you fuck Mary.” You whisper and Millie stops stroking your hair in shock, that’s not what either of them were expecting. You glanced again at where Mary was knelt, and she was smirking at you with her wide eyes, and you felt the heat between your legs burn against your thighs. You didn’t understand how Mary could have this dominating effect on you while she was forced to be on her knees.

“I’m sure that can be arranged baby.” Millie reassured, reaching for her bag, and pulling the strap the inner pocket. Your eyes widened at the sight; you’d never introduced toys between the three of them. You knew that Millie and Mary would be much more experienced in that field which made you all the more excited to watch them both together. “Do you think you can take it first, just for a little while, I’ve never wanted to fuck that beautiful pussy more than right now.” Her words were so gentle towards you, just filled with lust and desire to have you there and then. You nod, your eyes brushing over the sheer length of the toy, as she slipped the harness over her thighs, pulling the straps tight, fixing it into place.

“C’mere Baby.” Millie’s voice was calm and soft, different than when she was talking to Mary. You felt her hand against your face, brushing her fingers down the length of your jaw. She took your hand, squirting some lube against your palm. “Get it ready.” She instructed yet her tone of voice remaining gentle as you took the length of the strap between your fingers, spreading the lube against the silicone toy. You flicked your wrist up and down it, not once making eye contact with the blonde who was looking down at you as you moved your hand. She placed a kiss against your forehead, tilting your chin up to look at her. In that moment when your eyes met hers you forgot that Mary was down on her knees just watching the two of your together. This was a completely different dynamic than anything you three had done before, it was always a joint effort, but the addition of such slight voyeurism was making you more desperate than before.

“Please Millie, I want you to feel your cock inside of me.” You spoke, the innocence to your voice differing completely to what Millie was used to with Mary being so bratty all of the time. While Millie loved Mary’s bratty side, she was beginning to fall for your well-behaved submissive act too.

“Lie down baby, let me make you feel good, you deserve it.” She whispers in your ear, her breath grazing your skin as your back hits the bed. Her hands were on your chest, your legs spreading open for her without request. “See, this is how you behave.”

Millie was edging towards your aching opening, teasing you with the head, wanting to get as much of you on her strap. Her hands loved to explore your body, making you tremble under her touch as the head pushed against your clit, feeling the shock rock through your skin. You knew not to beg too much, knowing this was one of Millie’s frustraters, you knew that she liked you to be grateful for everything she gives you, even if it is teasing you into oblivion.

“Breathe for me baby.” Millie instructed as she held the strap in her hand, guiding it towards your entrance and pushing the tip inside of you. You felt yourself begin to stretch around her and the moan that escaped your lips had Mary’s eyes locked onto your face, watching desperately at your reaction as Millie pushed inside of you. “Take your time.” Millie continued to coach you through it, knowing that it was an overwhelming feeling as she continued to push until she felt resistance.

“Fuck Mils, you- I- you feel so good.” Your voice was shaking, barely able to string a sentence together as your eyes slammed shut, your body getting used to the feeling of stretching around Millie’s cock. Her hands were soothing, tracing shapes against your skin as your lips clamped together, your eyes fluttering open to look at Millie’s awe stuck face at you taking her strap so well.

“Look at what you’re doing to her, she can’t stop looking at you taking my cock.” Millie breathed, her voice has deeper than usual, her hips beginning to rock into you, taking it slowly, working you up. You turned your head to look at Mary, her eyes locking to yours and you decide to look at her while Millie took her first full thrust into your body. Her tongue licked her top lip, taking her bottom lip into her own mouth as she watched you moan, looking directly into her eyes.

“You look so pretty like that.” Mary spoke, her head tilting as she smiled at you, disobeying Millie’s order to stay silent earning her a sharp look from the taller woman. You felt her thrusts getting stronger in response, her hands found their way to your hips, holding you down and slamming you against her thrusts. You thought you were going to explode from Millie’s strong hips slamming against your body alone, but now your body was moving to her pace too you couldn’t stop the endless strings of moans that were escaping your lips, and you didn’t even try to stop them. You could feel her in your stomach, each thrust seeming to go deeper and deeper into you. You were getting close, the orgasm building each time Millie rolled her hips, the strap hitting your spot with every thrust.

“Mils, I’m getting close.” You whimper, your legs beginning to tremble, your back arching slightly towards the taller woman. She slows her thrusts, stroking your skin as she pulls out of you. You go to open your mouth in protest but she places her finger against your lips.

“I know I know but trust me it will be worth it later.” She smirks, her hands travelling down your body, still looking at you in disbelief that she’d just had her strap inside of you. “It’s time for your reward remember.” She says, looking over at Mary who looked like a desperate mess on her knees against the cold floor.

You instantly forgot your own frustration, sitting up against the back of the bed as Millie shuffled towards the edge of the bed to where Mary was kneeling impatiently. “Now what am I going to do with you hm?” Millie spoke, her gentle voice was gone and in replacement was a dominating tone that you she had never used on you before.

“Guess we’re both going to find out.” Mary smirked, her brattiness coming out in full force now. The blonde had Mary’s face in her hand, roughly jerking her head up to look up towards her.

“God you are such a fucking brat.” The taller woman spat, shaking her head in disbelief at the woman still on her knees for her. She pinched her nipple between her fingers making Mary gasp at the sharp touch. She stood up, the strap she’d used on you still glistening in your arousal at her hips. Mary’s face was directly in-line with the dick, looking at the remnants of you with a huge smile on her face. “You wanna taste her? We both know how good she tastes.” Millie teased, looking back over at you, your legs slightly open allowing them both to see you dripping at your entrance. Mary licked her lips in suspense, nodding her head. “Go on then.” Her left eyebrow raised, gesturing Mary towards the strap, clearly not what she was originally agreeing to.

“Millie we both know I’m not going to do that.” Mary protested, but Millie nudged the strap towards her lips, her hand on the back of her neck. Her lips were not opening at the request, but once the strap made contact with her, she opened her mouth in response to the taste of you against her lips. Millie took her chance against her open lips, sliding the strap harshly into her mouth. She spluttered, but the taste of you against the strap let her swirl her tongue around the head, gripping the back of Millie’s thighs as she thrust into her mouth.

“This is my new favourite way to keep you fucking quiet.” Millie stated, her eyes never leaving Mary’s as she took the strap in her mouth, looking up with lust behind her eyes. Millie was harshly thrusting into her throat now and you could feel your cunt ache in desperation at watching the two of them together.

“Deeper baby, that’s it.” She had her hands wrapped up in Mary’s hair, forcing her to gag on each thrust. She looked up at Millie, taking her in, the way she was stood looking down at her.

Millie pulls out of her mouth, smirking at the saliva dripping from her lips. Mary’s cheeks were flushed red as she makes eye contact with you again, almost nervous at how she’d just sucked you off of the strap, gasping and moaning at the taste of you. You felt that even you were having an effect on her now, one that was slowly breaking down her bratty walls. “You looked like you enjoyed that.” Millie mocked, knowing the red in her cheeks was from the pleasure she just received from the humiliation.

“I did that for the taste of her, not for you.” Mary tried to change the subject, bringing the focus back to you being used for their little game of power play, but the flush on her cheeks was giving you and Millie a different view of why she enjoyed that.

“Sure, you did sweetheart,’ Millie teased, brushing her thumb down Mary’s bottom lip, “It suits you being on your knees for me, sucking me off like that.” The red in her cheeks was growing, her eyes rolling at the comment.

“Now are you going to fuck me in front of her or not?” Mary was growing impatient, her knees beginning to ache against the floor, her body slumping against her thighs as she struggled to keep her core tight.

“Only if you beg for it.” Millie responded quickly, barely thinking about her words, and knowing exactly what to say to make Mary tremble underneath her. “Considering you’re already on your knees I’m sure that will be easy enough for you.”

“I’m not begging for anything.” She protested and you could feel the arousal between your own thighs growing at her disobedience. Millie let out a mocking laugh, knowing that Mary would be begging because she wasn’t planning on doing anything to her until she does.

“Then you’re not getting anything.” Millie turned away from her, looking back towards you. She was making her way back between your legs, painfully slow, giving Mary enough time to regret her decision. You watched in awe as the strap hung from the blonde, giving you a telling look that made you know that Mary was going to give in within seconds.

“Please Millie, I’m sorry, come back.” Millie smirked at you when the submissive words came from Mary’s lips. You’d never heard her apologise, never seen her on her knees like this and it was something you could get used to.

“I think you’re using to wrong name sweetheart.” Millie was really lapping it up now, feeling confident at how you were being able to watch Mary in her submissive headspace. This was never something that you’d imagined them being like, presuming it would be a heated fight for dominance, but Millie wasn’t having that today, she wanted to show Mary off to you.

“I’m not calling you that, not until you’re inside of me.” Mary was still not quite where Millie wanted her to be, but she was beginning to get desperate to watch Mary take her cock herself. Millie stuck her hand out and Mary took it, slowly allowing her to stand up and meet her at the edge of the bed that you were watching from.

Their lips met with such urgency and desperation, Mary’s hands snaking around the back of Millie’s neck, pulling her in closely and tightly. The shorter woman was whining against her lips, aching with frustration. “Please can you fuck me now, I need you.” Even you felt your breath hitch at Mary’s pleading, her flushed cheeks and begging eyes driving Millie crazy. With no hesitation, Millie turned her round, shoving her into the bed on all fours, standing behind her and slapping her ass swiftly once before roughly grabbing her waist, pulling her back into her.

“I don’t think you’re even going to need warming up.” Millie scoffed, her fingers dragging through her folds with ease as her arousal had been building up at watching you take the strap a few moments before. “You’re fucking soaking, I knew you wouldn’t be able to handle watching me fuck another woman without you.” She wiped her fingers down her back, her body arching into her touch. Mary’s head was hung, her hair falling across her face as Millie was degrading her infront of you.

You shuffled a little closer, not trying to bring attention to yourself but wanting to be able to physically feel the heat that was growing between the two women. You could see Millie push the strap against her cunt, harshly rubbing between her thighs and catching the top of her clit with her strokes. Mary was gasping every time she edged closer to her entrance, you could see her body reacting to each touch.

“Fuck please Mils.” Mary begged, the bedsheets bundled in her fists, Millie roughly pulled her hair back, forcing her head up and you saw her eyes for the first time, your lips clamped together along with your thighs at the look she gave you. She pushed just the tip of the strap into her folds, and you watched her eyes widen and her mouth hung slightly ajar. Millie didn’t push any further, as if she was waiting for another plead from the brunette. “Fuck fine, Daddy please I need you.”

With that she thrust fully inside of her, gripping her hips so tightly as Mary effortlessly moved her hips back into her with every movement. You barely had time to recover from Mary calling Millie Daddy as you watched the two bodies move together in such desire, awe stricken from what you were watching. You could see Mary’s chest rising and falling rapidly from the pleasure she was getting from Millie grinding her hips roughly into her. Millie was looking smug with herself, forcing Mary’s hips to keep up with her relentless pace, Mary’s sudden submission to her making her groan with each thrust. “Take It baby, take all of me like a good little girl.”

Her hand was on Mary’s back, pushing her weight onto her so her face was shoved against the mattress, her ass stuck up higher allowing her to pump harder into her. Mary was a moaning mess against the sheets, her hips still pushing back against the strap. The sharp and breathy whimpers she was making as her grip on the sheets got stronger was making your pussy ache, your legs crossing trying desperately hard not to touch yourself as you watched them. Mary was moaning Millie’s name, her words just tumbling out of her mouth with no thought behind them as her face was continually shoved into the bed with each pump into her cunt.

You weren’t only admiring Mary now, your eyes caught gaze of the strong arm that was pinning her against the bed. The sleeved muscular arm that flexed hard, Millie still with her sports bra on, her face glowing pink as she worked harder into Mary. There was something so mesmerising about those two together, with Mary so submissive to the taller woman, taking all of her. You were still edging closer to the two of them and when Mary felt your presence she gripped hold of your hand, digging her nails into your skin making you wince but also making your heart grow warmer. Millie caught glance of this and the smirk she had been wearing turned into a smile as she continued pumping into her.

“If only Mary would take a leaf out of your book baby, then she wouldn’t have to look like such a desperate mess.” Millie said over the top of Mary’s endless moans, her grip still getting tighter around your hand. You tucked Mary’s hair behind her ear, catching a glimpse of how desperate she really did look.

“Do you think I could have a turn, since I’ve been so good for you.” You whispered nervously, not sure what had come over you. You rarely asked for anything, usually enjoying the feeling of not knowing what either of them were going to do to you. Millie’s thrusts slowed down, tilting her head to look at you, melting at the doe eyes you were giving her.

“Oh baby, you’re getting all jealous hm, you want me to fuck you again?” Millie said, her voice again naturally going all soft on you, like she couldn’t ever say no to you even if she wanted to.

Your skin shivered at the request, but you felt your head shaking, a confused look plastered on both of their faces. “I, uh, no, I want to do what you’re doing.” With that Millie’s movements had stilled completely, leaving Mary a whining mess against the bed.

“Fuck that’s so hot, you’re so hot.” Millie groaned, pulling out of Mary who was looking at you as with such desperation, giving you silent permission to do anything you wanted to her. She reached for your face, pulling you into a heated kiss as she removed the strap while your lips moved against each other’s. “It is your reward baby, come here then.” Millie says, urging you up off the bed and helping you into the harness. It felt so powerful having the strap around your legs and Mary waiting desperately for you.

“I want to see your face, Mary.” You asked, your voice not quite as demanding as Millie’s, but Mary complied nonetheless, turning herself round and her mouth instantly opening as she looked up your body, the strap round your waist.

“Aren’t I lucky?” Mary smirked, her eyes not once leaving your body and you felt yourself getting nervous, not wanting to embarrass yourself infront of the two of them. Millie was just stood watching, frozen infront of the scene unfolding between the two hottest women she’d ever laid eyes on. The way Mary was looking at you, her legs spread as you kneel between them, you’d never done this before, not to someone else but you’d watched as other people had done it to you and you were certain you were going to shock them both.

“Confidence baby, make her feel how you like to feel.” Millie whispered into your ear, sensing the nerves that were radiating off of you, she planted a kiss on your cheek before moving to sit behind Mary, resting her head against her stomach, wanting to feel part of it all. “I’ll keep her still for you, she’s a squirmer this one.” She hooked her legs around her back of her head, bending her knees and holding Mary’s hands flat against the bed, stopping her from moving around too much, allowing you to work this out in your own head.

“Please, I need you to fuck me, I want to feel you inside of me baby please.” Mary begged; her eyes filled with lust as she looked at you shaking infront of her. This gave you the extra confidence that you needed, fully fitting into the role as best as you could. You looked down at her and you decided you were really going to make sure she felt like your reward.

You guided the strap to her, doing exactly what Millie did to you, teasing her with the head. She was so desperate for a release that she wasn’t going to let you tease her like Millie had, pushing her hips up to meet you, silently pleading for you to skip this step. You looked as Millie nodded at you to continue, Mary’s chest lifting and falling as she waited for you to fuck her. Her back arched as you pushed the entire strap into her, and the moan that escaped her lips was the best one yet.

You started with a few slow lengthy grinds into her, pulling all the way out and re-entering her again, making her stretch around your strap. You watched the way her body reacted to each fully thrust, watching as you pushed it into her. You wanted to be closer to Mary, readjusting to lean forward over her body, your hands either side of her body as you thrust your hips a little harder. She was moaning your name into your ear, and you leaned down to kiss her fiercely, not once taking your focus off the rhythm you were building.

“Yes, baby girl, just like that!” She moans, her legs wrapping around your waist, pulling you into her.

“You’re doing such a good job taking her cock baby.” Millie said, squeezing her hands a little harder for encouragement. “And fuck you look so hot fucking her.” She said honestly, feeling her arousal growing as she watched your body finding its own rhythm, one that was drawing pretty moans and gasps from Mary. You were watching Mary’s face react to each thrust, trying to find the sensitive spot inside of her that you knew would prove yourself to her. She called out your name and you didn’t move from your position, applying a few more thrusts into her, hitting it with every single one, your name escaping her lips each time.

“Let me ride you baby, please I’m begging you.” Mary let out as you hit her spot again, you look at Millie for confirmation and she had the biggest smirk on her face, nodding her head at you as you pulled out of her. You barely had chance to get off of Mary before she had her lips crashing against yours, that same animalistic kiss that she gave you when you were usually in her position. Millie moved out of the way, patting the bed where she was sat and Mary pushed you back onto the bed, ready to take some dominance back from you. You were distracted as Mary’s tongue swiped against your lip, letting her in and she was kissing you as if it was the first time, she’d tasted you. Millie was rummaging around in her bag before bulling out a small bullet vibrator.

“Do you want this to help you get your release my pretty girl.” Millie praised, waving it infront of your face and you were nodding with eagerness, gasping as Mary was still kissing you, straddled on top of you, ignoring the strap that was behind her. She moved up off you, allowing Millie to slot the vibrator into the right place, not switching it on but keeping her hand on the button as she sat on the bed next to you.

Mary was hovering over you, but with the vibrator sat perfectly against your clit you knew that you needed nothing more than to feel like Mary was going to making you cum. She starts to take the strap and you grab her hips, pulling her all the way down onto you. With that Millie pressed the button and the vibrations against you mixed with the way Mary was gazing into your eyes, her moans barely escaping her lips as she started to rock her hips against you. You were the desperate mess now, jerking your hips up into Mary as her hand found its way around your neck, leaning over your body, her breasts right in front of your eyeline. You gasped as she squeezed harder, beginning to fully thrust into her as she slammed her body down against the strap.

“Fuck Mary you feel so fucking good.” You let out in a spluttering mess as you watched her body eagerly bouncing up and down, you were mesmerised by both the orgasm growing inside of you and the way her body looked taking you so desperately. You watched her eyes roll back as you pushed her hips down on you harder. Millie started tracing circles against your skin, leaning in, her mouth trailing over your exposed neck, leaving occasional marks by nibbling against your skin.

“I’m getting so fucking close, fuck Mary you look so fucking good like this.”

“Go on baby, cum for us.” Millie spoke against your neck, taking your skin in-between her teeth, soothing the immediate pain with her tongue.

“Come inside of me sweetheart.” Mary grinned as your moans became higher pitched with each one you let out of your open mouth. She was still grinding her hips against you, and Millie’s fingers were toying with your nipple as you got closer and closer and each time you thought you were going over the edge it kept building instead. You figured this was a result of the edging earlier but as your head threw back into the pillow and the feeling of Mary’s body slamming against the vibrator against your clit, you chanted out both of their names as it finally washed over you. Mary was riding you slower, letting you uncontrollably thrust your hips up into her.

You didn’t get a chance to recover, Mary’s body tiring as she was still grinding her hips against the strap. The vibrations didn’t stop, but you watched Millie finally take her underwear off, kneeling back onto the bed. You were so sensitive, and the vibrator being pushed consistently against you was overstimulating you.

“Did you want the vibrator off before I get off on that tongue of yours for the first time?” Millie asked gently, stroking your face as you shake your head, wanting to feel the overpowering vibrations take-over your body as the older woman rode your face. Millie had never let you do this before, she barely ever received when you three were together, preferring to get off on making you two feel incredible.

“That’s my girl.” Millie smirked, looking at the way your body was desperately still trying to push Mary over the edge of her own orgasm. You took one last look at Mary whose moans were becoming breathy and laboured before Millie kneeled over your face, your tongue immediately searching through her dripping folds, wanting to make her feel as good as she makes you, wanting to prove yourself to her.

Unlike Mary, Millie was not a loud lover, but the gasp she released when your tongue swirled against her clit, barely touching her made you instantaneously increase your pressure. The two were facing each other, both on top of you, both using you to get off and it was the hottest you’d ever felt. She tasted different to Mary, but equally as addictive as you lapped your tongue around her opening.

Your hands were gripping the back of Millie’s thighs, and you could hear them kissing, their bodies melting into one another’s as they both chased their long-awaited orgasms. You could hear how close Mary was, her hips moving quicker again but not in any sort of rhythm, just doing anything to feel the strap inside of her. Millie reached her hand to Mary’s clit, stroking small precise circles over the top of it and you swear you could feel her clench against the strap you were wearing.

“I want you to hold that orgasm love, wait for me to get there.” You heard Millie say, her voice was no longer dominating, it was shaky and desperate as she lowered herself further down against your tongue. You flatten your tongue, letting her grind her hips against your face.

“Mils hurry I can’t hold it much longer.” Mary’s voice was broken up by her own moans and you felt Millie’s legs begin to tremble underneath your touch, remembering exactly what you did with her tongue that pushed her over the edge, her thighs squeezing so hard around your head you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to. All you could do was listen to them both reach their orgasm together and the noises they made harmonised one another and both of them using you to get off had quickly become your new favourite thing.

Millie was the first to collapse, Mary still riding out her orgasm and you lifted your hips in an attempt to aid her in pushing through it. Millie quickly got off your face, a devilish smile across her lips as she looked at your face, your hair messed up and your cheeks painted scarlet, her arousal fresh around your lips. She kisses you first, her hand stroking through your tangled hair. Mary had lifted herself off the strap, helping you out of it while Millie planted kisses all over your face. She collapsed on top of you, her body finally giving in, wrapping her arms around your body.

“That may have been the hottest thing we’ve ever done.” You said honestly, finally catching your breath back. “Seeing you like that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” You directed towards Mary, and she hid her face in your arm, getting all flustered at your words.

“I don’t tend to make a habit of it.” She whispered into your arm, her body flush against yours as Millie lied down next to you, wrapping her own arm around your neck, joining in on the group hug.

“You should.” Millie grinned, her hand patting the top of Mary’s head, “I enjoyed seeing you get so flustered and desperate.”

“It certainly was an experience.” You said, looking down at Mary who had finally shown her face, her eyes swiftly looking back at the both of you before squeezing you both tightly in her arms.

“Well, it won’t be the last, I’m sure.” She said, her cheeks flushing red again and Millie mocked her, pinching her cheek and shaking her head with her hands. “Right, that’s enough now, just give me a hug.” You both obliged, feeling the warmth from both of them right in your chest.

(well done for getting through it, hope you're not feeling too much)

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1d1195 · 3 months

Text

Toothpaste III

Read Toothpaste here | ~2.6k words

From me: Been way longer than it was supposed to since I last chatted about these two.

Warnings: a couple sweet fluffy puns and pining.

Summary: Harry realizes there's a bit of nepotism in hiring her to work for him while she finds a new job. But Harry would call it flat out favoritism. Also, he really likes the way she says Dr. Styles when she answers the phone.

“Good morning, Dr. Styles office.”

Harry was used to hearing his name said by women all the time. He worked with all women—they all reminded him of his mum which is why he hired them. Unfortunately, he found that many of the newly graduated dental hygienists were there for him...and not the job. He started his practice fresh out of school. Wanting to make good on his degree (and start pecking away at the loan debt from dental school) and help those with toothaches as soon as humanly possible. He was kind to each of them, but he wasn’t oblivious to the flirting that attempted to reel him in during the interview process. They would make small remarks about how they saw themselves fitting right in at his practice—and life. They batted their eyelashes and smiled just a hair too hard.

Now, he was no better than those he turned down in favor of the woman flitting about his office and eyeing the same sweet girl on desk duty. Hiring her because she was pretty, funny, intelligent.

And very much unemployed thanks to him.

Not even dinner first?

It rang in his head. The promise to take her to dinner still only remained just that: a promise. He had given her space as she was excited about the time to herself for the first time in two years. But then when she called again about a month after, claiming she was getting bored and antsy, Harry had to hire her. There had been paperwork to get hired. Training in what her tasks would be as she made the desk her home-away-from-home.

It seemed wrong to hire her and desperately want to go on a date with her, so he separated the two. Let her get her feet under her and whatnot. So, he never got to find out if ‘open’ would be the last of their flirting.

Unfortunately, Harry was ready to let all of his sanity fly out the window. The way Styles sounded in her mouth was a sin and a virtue. Completely and totally the cause for him struggling to maintain a semblance of control over his emotions.

“I know we say drooling is good thing in this office, Dr. Styles, but that’s a bit much,” Mary chided as she walked past him in the small hallway between rooms. Harry cleared his throat. Once more thankful for the mask covering the majority of his face to hide the blush that rose to his cheeks. She was none the wiser, fiddling with a pen as she listened intently. The little headset on her head while she scribbled on a notepad.

“Let me check and I’ll call you right back, yeah? If not, I’ll find someone to recommend,” her voice was so soothing, oozing with kindness and understanding that Harry didn’t know was necessary for someone scheduling appointments for him, but it was the moment he heard her voice. There was an exchange of goodbyes and then she clicked the headset off. “Dr. Styles,” she sang analyzing her notes while clicking and tapping away at her keyboard.

Now Harry had to pretend like he wasn’t just waiting for her to call for his attention. He turned immediately into a patient room where Helen was tending to a teen boy. Helen glanced up; her eyes danced with a smile unseen by her own mask as she continued to pick at the buildup between her patient’s teeth. “Toby isn’t due for an exam, Dr. Styles,” Helen teased.

He glared at her briefly and turned to call out of the room. “Jus’ a second, love.”

“Did you hear that, Toby?” Helen whispered. “Dr. Styles is a bit smitten with his secretary. He’s trying to act casual.”

Toby smiled around the instruments in his mouth and peered back toward where Harry stood. “She pre-ee,” he murmured.

“She is pretty,” Helen agreed. “But he’s pretending like he isn’t in love with her.” Toby chuckled around the tool once more and Harry glared at him.

“There’s a joke ‘bout me being a sadistic dentist, Toby. Make sure y’floss before y’next exam,” he warned lowly. “Helen,” he nodded.

“Dr. Styles,” she nodded in response, the smile never leaving her eyes.

She was scribbling on the calendar in front of her inputting as many random national dates as possible. It started shortly after her arrival. The other women in the office usually multitasked their dental duties as well as the front desk. They were excited to have her. As motherly as they were, they knew immediately why Dr. Styles hired the pretty girl and were hopeful the otherwise quiet, shy man would open himself up for her and let love in rather than spend all his waking hours thinking about his practice.

The day of her follow up appointment, she informed him it was National Chocolate Ice Cream Day and she wanted to be sure she would be allowed to celebrate.

“National what?” He chuckled.

It was the kind of thing that made life a little more enjoyable, she explained. After he hired her to be secretary, it was a whirlwind filling the calendar with as many silly days to recognize as possible. Many days had multiple things to be celebrated, so she chose carefully. National Dimples Day was a must—given that Harry had pretty dimples hiding behind his mask. It was followed by National Pina Colada Day, and she told him it was one of her favorite summer drinks.

“Did y’need something?” His voice was warm. Like always. The way it made her feel safe when she was scared that first time she met him, worried a root canal was in her very immediate future. “What’s that say?”

“National Retainer Day!” She nearly cheered. She looked up at him with a bright smile and he couldn’t help but fall harder for her. Each topic of the day was curated with someone in mind. Even the other ladies in the office got their moment to celebrate something they loved as she would randomly call out factoids about the coming month. “Anyone like rosé?” She had called.

“Who doesn’t?!” Melissa shouted back. Of course, the entire time she worked was spent mainly doing tasks, waiting in between calls and tasks to continue filling in the calendar with her funny days of recognition.

Harry was still chuckling about Retainer Day. “Something y’needed t’ask from y’phone call?” He repeated gently to jog her memory.

“Oh yes,” she dropped her pen midway through writing National “Ba” and he felt a little bad for interrupting her thought. Also, he desperately wanted to know the end of the word, and what they would be celebrating in a few weeks. She opened a different window back up and held her notebook poised professionally in front of her. “It’s a little boy,” she explained. “His teeth sound a lot like mine, so I’m probably being too nice,” she frowned. “I know you’re not a pediatric dentist, but the mom sounded exhausted so I told her I would ask and if not recommend someone you know personally from dental school who would take care of him.”

The kindness in her heart was way too sweet. No wonder she was filled with cavities.

“S’fine, set it up, I’ll look.”

“Like today?”

“S’it that serious?” Harry asked curiously.

“Mom sounds exhausted.”

“Like she’s going t’pull her son’s teeth out at a hardware store?”

“Exactly,” her smile was so beautiful. Harry knew smiles.

“S’this m’next patient?” He asked pointing at the tablet waiting beside her. She handed it to him and watched him read.

The way Harry leaned against the counter surrounding her desk put his forearms on full display making her stomach flip. Due to the mask, she couldn’t see his mouth—which was probably for the best. If she saw his lips, his nice teeth, perfect smile, or that dimple in his left cheek she would do something crazy, like kiss him in the middle of his waiting room. Even though no one was there in the waiting room, it seemed like a precedent she couldn’t let happen. Especially when her coworkers were down the hall with patients as well.

His eyes were so focused on the tablet, he didn’t even notice she was staring at him. His concentration was adorable. It was obvious Harry cared about all his patients. He was so intelligent (obviously) and just overall lovely.

“Are we ever going to go on our date?” She whispered quietly so not even Mary, Helen, or Melissa could hear.

Harry nearly dropped the tablet. His mask saved him once more by hiding his surprise. “Oh...um...” It spooked him that she was so confident and easy going about their flirting. It was only a few moments of flirtation and yet, it was enough to make him flustered. Tongue-tied. His brain misfired, no words could get out of his mouth.

Which was not great for her.

“I’m sorry,” she looked away and her hair fell in front of her face so he couldn’t see her embarrassment. “That was rude, I was...” she shook her head. “Forget I said it.”

Her heart was threatening to beat out of her chest, and she thought she might die of mortification. How could she say that in the middle of the workday? That was so inappropriate. Maybe more inappropriate since he was a hand deep in her mouth and she asked to open for him. At least then she was a patient and could leave. Instead, he was going to have to go be a hand deep in someone else’s mouth thinking about how she cornered him and flirted with him when she shouldn’t have.

Her stupid mouth was going to get her fired again. She finished the word “Bagel” on her calendar and looked for the information to call that poor mother back. She dialed the phone number and listened on her headset at the other end rang.

A note was dropped on her desk, a prescription paper from Harry’s notepad. Fluttered and settled directly in front of her as the phone continued ringing. She turned to see Harry’s retreating figure before she picked it up and read it.

Tomorrow? Tooth-irty is too early. How about six?

The bell to her apartment rang at quarter to six. She was doing some finishing touches to her hair and makeup, and it seemed they would remain unfinished. She wasn’t mad that he was early because it was making her anxious to wait for so long (hence the extra primping). “Just a second!” She called scrambling to put the last bobby pin in place and swiped mascara over her lashes quickly.

She hurried to the door and pulled it out of the way. Harry held three red roses in his hand. “Sorry m’early. I was... nervous and excited.”

“Nervous?” She questioned.

He nodded but didn’t say anything else. Harry wasn’t a man of many words. He was quiet overall. But when he did speak, every word was warm, important. Nerves must not have been important. “Those are beautiful,” she reached out to touch the mini bouquet. The petals were like velvet, and she imagined that he paid a pretty penny for just three little roses.

“S’not too much?” He asked.

“No,” she shook her head. “They’re perfect.”

He released a relieved sigh and smiled. “Good.”

At dinner, Harry pulled her chair out and his knee bumped hers beneath the table. She tried to memorize every detail of the moment. It was a feeling that started all the way in her toes and worked up to the roots of her hair. This was a big day. A big moment.

Three months ago, she was in a different world. Now she was at a new job, a new apartment, and on a date with her unbelievably handsome dentist and boss. It was unreal and perfect and something that didn’t happen every day. Something that had never happened to her.

So, she was memorizing every little detail so that when she thought about it for the rest of her life she could talk about the wrinkle near the corner of his mouth when he smiled. How his eyebrow quirked up when he read something he liked on the menu. The way his fingers wrapped around the stem of his wine glass like he was a connoisseur. Was he? She wanted to ask.

“S’it alright?” He asked quietly.

In all her memorizing, she forgot how quiet she must have gotten. Even a man as few words as Harry, it was probably unnerving to sit in silence while sipping at wine, listening to the quiet jazz quartet in the corner of the space while the girl across from him nibbled at the bread on her plate and stared at him for what must have been an embarrassing number of minutes. “Yes,” she said quickly, her knee bumping against his and the table causing the glasses to wiggle. He smiled. That gorgeous, beautiful smile that should have been on pamphlets and billboards for his practice. “Sorry,” she cleared her throat.

She wondered if he would ask her back to his place. Was it too much to do that? Maybe they could just hang out. Her entire work week was spent with Harry and yet she just wanted more time with him. Like something had changed in her that this was...this was something more. More than a toothache. More than toothpaste.

“Are you alright, love? You’re awfully quiet...”

“Can I say something...insane? You obviously don’t mind my ranting thus far between my intake form and my appointments. But this one might... really make you regret asking me out... I don’t know... I just think I have spent a lot of my young adulthood being unhappy. I watched rom-coms and read romance novels and envisioned this all-encompassing love that would put Nicholas Sparks to shame. Then I started my job fresh out of college and I hadn’t thought about love in three years? Four years. Four years of not thinking about love, reading about love, watching love and it was my favorite thing in the world...and then I got a toothache and wanted to yank it out myself and you were just there. You don’t say a lot but you... you helped me quit a job I wasn’t happy in, a job I wasn’t in love with a job that was killing me from the inside out,” she took a breath and Harry was stoically watching her. “I am trying to focus on everything that is happening. For the last three months I’ve been trying to figure all of this out and remember every little detail about you. The way that your knee feels next to mine and how your ring clinks on your wine glass and how I have imagined falling in love so many times in my life and I never thought it would happen in a dentist office—arguably, my least favorite place in the world.”

Speechless. Completely totally speechless.

Harry held his hand up for the waiter. “Could we get our food t’go?” He asked.

Part of her hoped the ground would open up and swallow her. The anxiety and mortification she felt was so intense her voice was dead in her throat. All emotion stopped existing. Part of her thought she did combust as he asked to leave. “Is everything alright?” The waiter asked.

“Yes,” Harry nodded assuredly. “S’jus’... I’ve got a bit of a toothache,” he explained and glanced at her finally. The left dimple making itself visible. The relief swam through her. “Need t’head home t’take care of it. S’that okay, love?” He asked quietly.

She nodded. “Yeah,” she cleared her throat. “It’s that sweet tooth of yours.”

“Well, y’know me, love,” he winked and handed his credit card to the waiter. “I crave sweet things.”

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#harry #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #one direction #one direction writing #dentist!harry #toothpaste

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kerrslvr · 9 months

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reward // mary earps

summary; in which, after she wins SPOTY, you give mary a reward like no other.

warnings; dom!mary, sub!reader, cocky mary, cunninlingus, fingering, mary loves to manipulate reader into saying i love you, strap-ons, grind pads, reverse cowgirl, spanking, daddy kink (blink and you'll miss it), nipple stimulation, fluff at the end. probably missed some warnings and probably made typos, sorry. also… take this as a christmas present. merry christmas u filthy lesbians x

pairing(s): romantic mary earps x scott!reader, platonic jill scott x sister!reader (r is about 24/25 in this… mary & jill are their current ages at the time of writing - 30 & 36 respectively)

based on this request x

"this is live on the BBC and you're wearing a dress with a slit that deep?"

the frown in jill's voice was clear as you stepped out of the taxi and into the chill of the manchester air, the immediate swarm of camera flashes turned your way.

"can tell you're getting old," you replied as you adjusted the skirt of your dress, "you're starting to sound like mum."

your oldest sister was not amused by her likening to your mother. shelly couldn't make it to the spoty ceremony, and seeing as most of jill's friends were going anyway, she'd invited you. originally, you'd been invited by the company you work for, but being a sports journalist in-training, they'd found someone more qualified than you to do the job; and jill didn't like that.

"just make sure your dress doesn't malfunction and cause headlines tomorrow," she said, waiting patiently for you to catch up as you scurried along beside her, "otherwise mam'll have a breakdown."

you shrugged your shoulders at your sisters worry, you weren't wearing the dress for her, or the cameras. there was only one person you were wearing it for, and you could see her in your peripheral vision, stepping out of her vehicle, dressed to the nines in what can only be described as a revenge dress on you.

she spotted you instantly, your pretty hair and your not-so-innocent eyes and the way they twinkled as they met hers across the carpet. your dresses almost matched, the gaping neckline, the peeks of skin through the lacy mesh, the long black skirt.

you had to fight your jaw so it didn't drop to the floor, and it seemed like everyone else around you also had to fight their urges. people screamed mary's name and you struggled to keep your composure as you and jill eagerly waltzed over to see her.

"i'm so proud of you," jill sqeaked eagerly as she wrapped her arms around mary's shoulders. the look she gave you when your sister wasn't looking almost let your knees give way. "and you look lovely."

"very similar to your sister, come to think of it, jill," mary pointed at your dress and scanned you up and down, "minus the obscenely high split."

you cursed mary with a knowing look before jill turned to compare. if she found out you and mary were frequent flyers in each others beds she would probably wring you out herself, let alone your mother.

"i was just about to compliment you, earps," you shrugged off her devilish eyes and knowing smirk, "but i think i'll just keep my mouth closed."

the two of them did press for a little while, and you watched from the sidelines, admiring mary's demeanor. you couldn't remember how long ago everything started between you and mary, although the euro's final was the first night you spent entangled between her sheets. you didn't even know you were into girls - let alone mary - when you first started sleeping together, and at first, that's all it was, until it wasn't.

she started picking you up from the station, inviting you to games, date night after date night, after date night. one morning things changed and you both realised there were painfully strong feelings of love underlying, but she was thirty and you were twenty five, and she was your sisters best friend, and you were a sports journalist. you both knew how bad it looked.

but, the feelings of love outweighed the feelings of lust, and that was the worst part.

"don't you fancy asking me some questions then, love?"

mary's voice lulled you from your daydream, and she met you in a less crowded corner of the carpet. you could see jill mingling with leah and jen, the three of them chatting politely while they waited for mary to finish up with her interviews - at least, thats what she told them.

"surely you've had enough of questions, mary."

she tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and let her hand rest on your shoulder. the heat from her skin on yours sent burning flashbacks rushing through your brain.

"maybe i have," she leaned down and tilted up your chin with her fingers. even without her heels on she towered over you, but with her heels on she was even taller, nearing six foot, and it made you squirm. "but i've not had a single question from the person i want to speak to."

you couldn't help but let a smile come to your face, and mary admired your fluttering eyelids, "and who might that be, earps?"

mary's thumb traced your lip, and you couldn't help but pucker your lips. "i think you know exactly who it is, princess," she laughed, and for a moment, she thought about kissing you, but she wanted to have her fun tonight, "you can unpucker those lips and ask me your first question."

you sighed and looked at her with soft eyes - of course she was in one of those moods tonight. mary got off on you when she put you in these situations, it drove her absolutely insane. "don't you want to kiss me in public?"

mary rolled her eyes and leaned in, her lips pressing against yours softly as the breeze of manchester air blew across the two of your bodies. a storm was coming, and the chill sent goosebumps across your skin, mary's too, but she was much better at composing herself.

you wanted to deepen the kiss, to outstretch your arms and pull her closer, to guide her hand up into the slit of your dress, but you knew better than to draw attention to your escapades.

mary was first to pull away, and the pink hue of your lipgloss had tainted her light brown. it was a sight to behold.

"better?"

"hm," you shrugged, "what do you plan on doing if you win the award tonight?"

"finally a question i can answer without lying," mary hummed, "if i win tonight i'm going to be taking my girlfriend back to my hotel room, and doing many, many inappropriate things with her."

you shivered at her words, and had to fight the urges running rife inside your bloodstream.

"oh, really?" you questioned, a raised eyebrow. jill noticed you two were standing together in a quiet corner, "and what do you plan on doing if you don't win?"

"oh, well, lets see," mary faked a thought, and you spotted jill walking towards you both with an excited grin, "oh, yes, i'll be taking my girlfriend back to my hotel room and doing many, many appropriate things with her."

you couldn't help but blush, and you opened your mouth to reply but jill stood in your way. "ceremony's gonna start soon, we really should think about going in, Y/N," she gave you a questioning look, silently asking if you were okay, and you nodded. "they want you for a few more pictures, mary, we'll see you in there."

jill was quiet as the two of you walked behind leah and esme, and you were petrified she would bring up the question and ask you what's going on between you and her best friend, and you didn't have an answer.

"she's your type," she said after a while, nudging you with her shoulder, "mary, i mean, not the girl you were telling me about in the car earlier. mary's the best, hilarious, good with her hands -"

"okay, jilly, thanks," you hit her on the shoulder, "i don't need you to play matchmaker, especially not with mary earps, now c'mon, my heels are killing me."

mary couldn't quite believe she'd won the award, and as the night lingered on, her body consistently kept gravitating towards yours. you didn't mind, it seemed everybody in the room kept themselves occupied, if they weren't pulling mary away for five minutes, they were mingling with each other.

jill noticed you and mary spending more time with one another than what she thought acceptable as two people who don't know one another all that well, and she knew she ought to bring it up, but when you began to say your goodbyes approximately ten minutes after mary did at almost midnight, her intuition kicked in.

"leaving already?" she asked, coming up to you before you could show up in front of her, "you and leah are almost always the last two on the dancefloor singing shania twain, or... do you have something better to do?"

you knew that look, the look she was giving you. it was the look she always gave you when she was disappointed you didn't tell her things, like when you failed your driving test and told her you'd passed just so she'd let you drive her new car, or when she'd swung open your bedroom door when you were nineteen to find you in bed with your first boyfriend, much to her disgust.

"if you're galivanting off to sleep with mary, i don't mind," she said, brushing the hair out of your face, "i've watched the way she's looked at you all evening, i noticed the brush of her hand on your thigh and the way you look up at her. i don't mind, y/n, really, i don't."

you knew mary would be on her way to the hotel by now, if not, already there, waiting for your arrival. as much as you wanted to spill your two and a half years worth of secrets to jill, you couldn't bring yourself to do it in this moment.

"then why do you sound so disappointed?"

"i'm not disappointed, i just wish you'd tell me," she ruffled your hair and kissed your cheek, "i'll see you at the buffet for breakfast, and please, for the love of god, stick a do not disturb sign on mary's door."

you slipped into a taxi, and within fifteen minutes you were knocking at mary's hotel room door, and the time it took her to answer the door felt like forever. she swung it open, only so you could see her from the neck up, but you could tell by the angle in which she was standing that she was hiding something.

"took you long enough, love."

"i could say the same for you," you replied, watching mary as her eyes trailed right down to your exposed leg, the slit higher than she remembered, "what're you doing in there?"

she smirked, simply allowing the door to swing open, and when it did your knees almost buckled again. your eyes weren't really sure where to look, it seemed the lace top of her dress was detachable from the long black skirt, and there she stood before you in a lacy bodysuit which made your mind reel.

this was far from the mary you knew, usually with her hair in a messy pony, more often than not, a face with faint green stains of grass, and the familiar smell of either the pitch or the training room, her dominance unrelenting.

although she was in a lacy black bodysuit, the latter statement about her dominance still stayed the same.

"are you just going to stand there gawking, or are you going to come in and let me get my reward?"

you stuttered, struggling to get the words to travel from your brain to your mouth. it was too late for you to answer, though. mary had lost her patience, and she pulled you in and - for lack of a better word - you slammed into the nearest wall.

mary kicked the door and her lips devoured you as if she hadn't kissed you for months, her hands struggling to find a place to rest. your hands settled on resting around her shoulders, your heels giving you just enough of a height boost to be able to stand in that position comfortably, your lips moving together in perfect harmony.

mary's hands found a place to rest on your hips, but she wasted no time in parting the split in your dress and letting her hand explore. a blush crept its way onto your cheeks when she clocked that you weren't wearing underwear.

"oh, sweetheart, really?" she pulled her lips away from yours and gave you that look, the one that accompanied the 'you're not smart, so don't act like it' talk, and you gave her your best innocent eyes, "no underwear, sweetheart, why's that?"

"because you told me not to," your voice was shaking as you spoke, "last week, you told me i couldn't, y-you told me if i did that you wouldn't be very happy."

mary pushed the split in the dress apart and the fresh air touched your cold pussy, sending goosebumps across your skin. it was even worse for you when she knelt down, the heat from her breath juxtaposing the goosebumps and sending your skin into overdrive.

"have i ever told you how pretty of a pussy you have, darling?"

"once or twice," you pushed the hair from her face so it didn't tickle your skin and push the goosebumps further, "but you can tell me again if you - oh."

mary couldn't help herself, her eager tongue needed to taste you. she licked along your slit as you spoke, and reduced your words to a slur of moans. she parted your legs further and scooted closer to your body until you were practically sitting on top of her face, her tongue slipping further and further into your folds.

"i should be the one d-doing this to you, surely," you hummed, hoisting your dress across your hips and allowing her much easier access to your pussy, "you have just won the best award in your career to date."

mary pulled away and you could see her chin glistening with your wetness, causing her makeup to go patchy. her fingers traced the space that her tongue had just been, circling your hole teasingly in only the way she could.

"yes, i have, and you can keep stroking my ego by telling me that again as you take off your dress," she raised an eyebrow, halting the movements of her finger until you did as she asked, "but, your pussy is my reward and i expect to get as much of a reward as possible this evening, do i make myself clear?"

"y-yes," you nodded, allowing your dress to slip straight down your frame until it pooled at your ankles, showing your naked frame to the woman kneeling before you, "i understand."

mary's finger slipped inside of you, albeit ridiculously slow and with nowhere near enough friction to make you cum, but it felt great nonetheless.

"you're such a good little girl for me, aren't you, y/n?" she asked, stretching you out with another finger and curling her fingers in an excruciatingly slow come hither motion, "leaving the afterparty like i asked you to, following me back to my hotel room so i could look at this pretty pussy and hear those innocent little moans all night," she kissed your clit softly and it sent a fluttery feeling scattering through your stomach, "anyone would think you love me, darling."

you opened your mouth to speak, and right as a word began do leave it, mary added a third finger. the stretch was painful, but delicious at the same time and you bunched a hand in her hair, fighting all your urges to cum all over her fingers. she smirked, "cat got your tongue, sweetie?"

"oh, fuck," you hissed, "fuck mary your fingers feel unbelievable."

"that's not what i was looking for you to say, angel, but i'll take it."

she smirked again, this time her lips pursing around your clit and causing a long, breathy moan to tumble from your mouth. the feeling bubbling away in your stomach grew with each flick of her tongue, each curl of her fingers, and it left you a wriggling mess.

you knew what she was waiting for you to say, her body was practically fizzing with the anticipation of hearing you tell her you loved her. it was her new favourite sound of yours to get off to, and she had plenty; but something about your voice was so soft, so subtle.

neither of you ever anticipated it would turn into this, loving each other, you weren't even sure how to love somebody. you both thought that hiding the relationship would be much harder, but it was significantly easier than you realised, less pressure, less worry. and mary didn't ever want you to stop saying it.

"you know you're not allowed to cum until you say it, darling, so you might as well get it over with."

"i love you, mary," every single time you said it, the words slipped out of your mouth easier than any other words ever did, and you hated how much it affected you both. "i love you, now, please - f-fuck - make me cum."

the smirk on mary's lips was unfathomable, and her fingers stretched you out deliciously as she continued to fuck you with them, desperate to stretch you out so she could slide her cock inside you. she stood up, her free hand wrapping itself around your neck instinctively, temporarily halting the bloodflow to your lungs as she squeezed in rhythm to her thrusting fingers.

"you really wanna cum that badly, huh?" she asked, lips scraping your ear with every word, "said you loved me twice in one sentence."

you were unsure whether mary was in a mood nice enough to let you cum now, and while you craved it desperately, you were there for her pleasure this evening, not the other way around.

"god, m-mary, please just let me cum, p-please," you choked, "i-i know you're gonna want my pussy nice 'nd wet, so p-please let me cum."

the noise mary made was akin to a growl, and she sped up the movement of her fingers, moving the angle so her thumb was rubbing your clit frantically. your legs threatened to buckle and you locked your hands around mary's neck, a moan tumbling from your mouth as a trail of her spit lingered on your bottom lip.

"god, not so fuckin' innocent now, are you? can't believe i found myself such a naughty little girl," her teeth nipped at your earlobe and she noticed the bead of sweat trickling down your forehead. "are you going to stand there moaning or are you going to cum for me, little one?"

the use of your favourite petname sent your head spiralling, and with that, your legs shook and your entire core tensed as your orgasm peaked. mary's name fell from your lips and she couldn't help but groan as your wetness flooded her fingers, trickling down her knuckles and the palm of her hand, and the sound of your release was music to her ears.

as mary pulled her fingers out of you, she gave you time to breathe, despite the look of disapproval on your face now that you weren't full. you watched her tongue slide across the skin of her palm and it made you feel dizzy.

"look at those little puppy eyes, my love," she held her fingers out in front of your mouth and let you suck them clean, "how could i ever say no to that face?"

your eyelids fluttered as you tasted yourself on mary's fingers, and when you licked them clean they pulled out of your mouth with a pop. she slipped her arms out of her bodysuit and you watched with eager, desperate eyes as it fell down her hips and to the floor. your eyes almost bulged out of your head at the sight of mary naked, it never felt real.

"what do you want, sweetheart?"

"hmm?"

"i know that look, it's the look you give me when you want to ask a question," she gave you the smirk again, "so, ask me the question."

"i, uh," you straightened yourself up, "i thought as your reward you could let me ride you."

mary leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, "oh, my darling girl, you can't ever be without my dick inside you, can you?"

you shook your head sheepishly, and mary said nothing as she walked to the bed around the corner of the room. there, on the corner of the bed, lay mary's favourite toys. a strap and its harness, lube and her grind pad, which was a lifesaver when she fucked you. it meant she could feel every sensation, and cum when you did.

"why don't you get my pussy nice 'n wet, darling, hm?" she tucked a curl of hair behind your ear, "and then we'll think about letting you ride my cock, okay?"

nodding, you sunk to your knees and steadied yourself between her legs. she was already preparing the strap harness, fiddling with the grind pad and waiting in anticipation for you to taste her.

she shivered when your tongue made contact with her clit, allowing herself to soak up the feeling by pausing her movements and letting a hand rest on your head.

you did exactly as you were told, getting her pussy nice and wet by smearing your spit all across her clit. she pulled you off, your enjoyment of eating her out short lived, but mary knew if she let you carry on a minute longer she would cave to her instincts and let you eat her.

"if i don't fuck you within the next five minutes, i think i'm going to die," mary hummed, "so please, my love, wait patiently for my cock."

as you sat and waited, you reached down to take off your stiletto's, but mary stopped you.

"don't you dare," she stood up, tightening the loops on her harness and leaning down, "you know how much i love fucking you in heels."

she sat back down on the bed, pulling you down - not completely, just so you were leaning over her frame with your hands on her thighs - and pulling you in for a kiss. it was hot, searing, and your hand instinctively pumped at the lube until you got enough to stroke the strap up and down, soaking it in the liquid so your descent would be easier.

mary groaned as if she could feel the friction through the strap-on, and it made you whimper.

"do you want me to face front or back?" you asked, pulling away for air. the answer was clear when mary's hand came down hard on your arse, the sting brutal but desperately needed. she rubbed the spot she slapped before repeating the action sequence multiple times.

"as much as i love looking at your pretty face, and that insane rack," mary chuckled, "you know i'm an arse girl, love."

you hummed, shifting your body and allowing her to get into position on her back. a whimper left your mouth when you saw her pumping the cock with her hand. she patted her upper thighs, a silent signal for you to lower yourself down, and as you got into a comfortable position, you threw your head over your shoulder and gripped the base of her cock with one hand.

the noises you made as you sunk yourself down on her cock were like music to mary's ears. the grind pad gave her the perfect friction, and as she grunted while you rocked to get comfortable, it felt as if the whole notion of you riding her dick were real.

"c'mon love," she pinched your hip, "don't have all night to waste rockin' back and forth on my cock, you know what i wanna see you doing."

"mhm," you slowly began to pull your hips up from the base of her cock, "yes daddy."

your reply earned you a slap to the bum as you sunk back down, and a sharp moan left your lips. "say it again, love, just once."

"y-yes, daddy."

slap.

"one more time," she stroked the reddening cheek with the palm of her hand, "for daddy's sake."

"yes, daddy."

slap.

mary let out a deep grunt, throwing her head back as you began to bounce up and down to a solidified rhythm, your knees already beginning to ache but this was your reward for mary, and she was not going to take over unless you collapsed from an orgasm; but with her grind pad in use, it was only a matter of time until mary's orgasm crept up on her anyway.

with every bounce of your hips, the pad stroked at mary's clit with a perfect amount of pressure, and a perfect angle, that everytime you pulled up she would whimper, or draw a sigh of relief that her orgasm hadn't hit her yet.

"fuckin' hell, love," she slapped the other cheek this time, "you really do have the most perfect arse, don't you?"

she couldn't help herself, her fingernails digging into the skin of your hips as she began to raise her own off of the bed, fucking up into you and watching your arse ripple with each thrust of her hips. your moans grew louder, unable to control your noise as you gripped onto mary's ankles.

she bent her legs at the knee to help take the weight off of your legs, allowing you to rest on her thighs a bit more. the change in angle of mary's legs changed the deepness of her cock, and it was so deep inside you now it almost made you feel sick.

she reached her hand around your waist so her fingertips brushed your stomach, "can you feel my cock in your stomach, baby? hm?" she waited for you to nod, and her fingers lowered to your clit, "want you to make yourself cum all over my cock, darlin', can you do that for me?"

"not gonna last much longer, mary?" you questioned with the little sarcasm you had left in you. a loud smack echoed the bedroom, and you immediately regretted your question.

"say something stupid like that again and you won't cum at all tonight," she pinched your stinging bum, "understood?"

"yes, mary."

she sat herself up now, so your back was pressed flush against her stomach, and instinctively you wrapped your arms around her neck. the angle of her legs changed again, spread out ever so slightly on the bed so she could hold her balance within her core.

with this angle, mary's fingers were able to pinch at your nipples, and you were so caught up in the feeling of rocking back and forth, and the sound of mary's moaning that you completely forgot you were supposed to be rubbing your clit.

"don't see much going on with your fingers, love," she teased, "please don't make me pull out of this tight little cunt now, and just do as i say, hm?"

you nodded, your index and middle fingers immediately circling the bud of nerves that had you whimpering immediately. mary's lips traced your neck, and without even giving you time to complain, her teeth sunk into the skin and softly nibbled. mary's tongue soothed the burn of her teeth on your neck right as she dragged her fingers under your nipples, making you yearn for an orgasm.

you could tell she was close, her core was beginning to become lose and her legs were beginning to twitch, and your orgasm was on the cusp.

"m-mary-"

"-wait," she breathed, her lips trailing back up to your ear, "wait for me, love, 'nd we'll cum together."

"i-i don't know if i can hold -"

"-you can, and you will," she pinched your nipples, "i'm close, but the longer you talk, the longer this will take."

you nodded, biting down on your lip to fight the urges of begging. a few more rocks of your hips and mary would be toppling over the edge.

"oh, fuck, Y/N," she hissed, "ready to cum all over my cock?"

you nodded aggressively, a feeble 'yes' tumbling from your mouth in a desperate attempt to cum. mary stilled when her orgasm arrived, allowing your hips to do the friction work against her clit, your name falling from her mouth in a desperate groan.

her noises triggered your orgasm, and as much as you tried to ride your way through it, your hips stilled and your fingers on your clit carried you the rest of the way through. you didn't even clock that mary had moved her hands to your hips so she could steady you, and her lips kissed soft lines along your shoulders.

"i'm never going to get over that sound," she said, her hands moving from your hips to around your waist, hugging your body close to her, "i can't believe you're mine."

you managed to wriggle from her grip and lay down against the pillows, with mary following suite. her body cocooned you from the cold air, and her hands resumed their position across your waist.

"i can't believe you're mine," you repeated her words, and turned your neck to the side so you could kiss her nose, "but, i, uh, i think jill knows about us."

the look on mary's face didn't change. in fact, she was relieved she didn't have to hide you anymore. she wanted to show you off, and she was thankful it was almost out in the open now.

"i don't care," she hummed, "maybe it's a good idea for us to get it out in the open now, we've been doing it long enough."

"i like that idea," you spun your whole body around in her embrace at this point, and the smile on your face told her all she needed to know. "i'm so proud of you, maz, nobody deserved to win tonight more than you, i love you."

a heartwarming smile came to mary's face, and you relished in the way you still made her cheeks blush.

"i love you too, darling," she kissed your nose and nuzzled her head into your neck.

"now please, lets get under the covers because i'm freezing my tits off."

#mary earps #mary earps smut #mary earps x reader #mary earps fluff #mary earps fic #mary earps fanfic #woso fanfic #woso fic #woso community #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fanfics #woso smut #woso blurbs #woso x reader #woso #engwnt

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anobsessedchocolatechip · 1 year

Text

Okay Christine Daae is THE MOST UNJUSTIFIABLY OVERHATED CHARACTER IN MUSICAL HISTORY. THERE I SAID IT.

This VERY YOUNG WOMAN somewhere from 15-22 lost her father, the only person she ever had, at a young age and found her way of expressing grief through music. a MUCH OLDER MAN (we are not going to deny this fact please) saw her and decided to take advantage of that grief in order for her to fall in love with him (I know he had his reasons but it STILL HAPPENED) and after she found out how the man manipulated her she still understood why he did it, even after he KILLED PEOPLE she saw that he just wanted her love, and even after he threatened to KILL HER AND HER FIANCÉE for EXISTING (“now let it be war upon you both”) she was VERY smart and knew how to break the murderous trance that Erik was in, by showing him the one thing she knew he needed, compassion. She has the unique ability to see good in people when it’s not visible to anyone else, even after it seems like they’re past the point of ever being good again. That’s some LUKE SKYWALKER SHIT. She is literally a HEROINE who does not let anyone’s shit get to her, not raouls dumbass plan, not Erik’s anger. She wants to SING HER SONGS and she WILL, DAMN IT. Yes she’s naive sometimes but what did you want?? Her to be perfect?? Then you’d just call her a Mary Sue. Also she was a GRIEF STRICKEN YOUNG GIRL WITH FAITH IN THE WORLD OF COURSE SHE’D BELIEVE A NICE VOICE TEACHING HER TO SING AND BELIEVE IN HERSELF.

Christine Daae is a SMART, BRAVE, EMPATHETIC, ABSOLUTELY AMAZING CHARACTER AND IF I SEE ONE MORE PERSON BLAMING HER FOR *ANYTHING* THAT HAPPENED TO HER I AM GOING TO EXPLODE.

(Disclaimer: this is not an anti erik or anti raoul post, this is a PRO CHRISTINE DAAE POST) (GOD I LOVE HER)

Edit: Jesus some of you guys saw “this is not an anti Erik post” and said this sign can’t stop me because I can’t read 😇😍

Also if you hate Christine and feel the need to make that clear in the comments it will be deleted because this is a Christine positive blog and I will not allow mean people in my little corner of the internet where I share my little opinion with some cool little people who agree with it ❤️ shout out to all the people out there who disagree but didn’t feel the need to curse me out in the comments, I see you and appreciate you 😌

#phantom of the opera #poto #christine daae #the phantom of the opera #erik phantom #phantom #erik/christine #raoul x christine

828 notes · View notes

forsakenmb · 2 months

Text

Best Friend's Brother

Pairings - Rafe Cameron x Reader

Word Count - 4.3k

Warnings - Dark! Rafe Cameron, Possessive!Rafe?, non-con/dub-con, violence, degradation, alcohol use, manhandling, unprotected sex, dacryphilia

“You should come over tonight” Sarah said through the call, “My dad, Rose, and Wheezie are out for the weekend, we could break into his liquor cabinet” she chimed.

“What about your brother?” you asked. Finals had just concluded, and you didn't need his shit today or any day for that matter..

Rafe Cameron, the Kook King, the biggest douchebag you've ever known. He hates Sarah, so he hates you too. He's called you many names ranging from: an attention-seeking whore, pogue trash, and the ‘Virgin-Mary’.

You've known Rafe and Sarah since you were thirteen, and he wasn't exactly nice to you back then but certainly not now. Since you turned fifteen your friendship with Sarah infuriated him, according to him you were just ‘trash’ that didn't deserve to be in the presence of Kooks.

“Forget about him” she groaned, she knows how much of an ass he is. “We can hang out in my room, watch movies, and get drunk”

Refusal on the tip of your tongue, she pleaded with you again, “Please!” she begged.

“Alright, alright” your relented, hesitation still stuck inside of you. A wary feeling deep in you peeking its ugly head out.

“Okay! See you later” she squealed happily, the call ending soon after.

By the time you were getting into your vehicle the sun was setting, casting hues of orange over the Island.

The drive was quiet and peaceful, the colorful sky now replaced with pitch-blackness as you pulled into the driveway of Tannyhill.

As you approached the front door you were going to walk in like you've always done. Whilst reaching for the handle, the door suddenly jerked open. You expected to see Sarah if anything, not Rafe.

He was standing in the doorway, moving through the threshold wasn't an option. His taller frame blocked you from entering the residence.

“Ah, if it isn't the pogue herself” he sneered, a wide smirk plastered on his face.

“Can you move out of my fucking way.” you snapped, your brows furrowed together in frustration.

“Don't get your panties in a twist” The oldest Cameron jeered, rolling his eyes. You wondered if he rolled them any farther, he could see his eye sockets. He moved aside just enough so you could squeeze through.

You glared daggers at him, but all he did was tap his foot impatiently on the floor.

Giving up, you wedged yourself past him; your front pressed wholly against his and you could've sworn he pressed his hips further into you.

Walking farther into the house towards the staircase, you felt his eyes boring into you. But when you glanced over to him it wasn't a glare, but something dark and depraved. Something you weren't too keen on discovering.

You practically sprinted up the stairs to Sarah's room, your heart racing in your chest. Why were you so scared? It was just a look, but it elicited such fear from you.

“What took you so long?” she asked, lounging lazily across her bed as you entered her room.

“Your brother” was all you said before plopping down next to her. The room was silent for a moment before Sarah sighed and sat up.

“He's an asshole” she said blandly, setting her phone down on the bed. “I'm going to grab the alcohol” she stated, getting up from her spot and walking towards the door. “You pick the movie” she told you before walking out of the room.

When Sarah returned she held two bottles; one held a bronze liquid, which looked like whiskey. The other held a clear drink, which was either Vodka or Tequila.

“What movie are we watching?” She questioned, moving towards the bed to lay next to you.

“Scream?” you ask, looking through your options. It didn't seem likely you'd find anything better at this point.

“That's fine” Sarah said, handing you the bottle of clear liquid. She settled down as you started the movie.

Taking a look at the bottle in your hand you saw that it was in fact Vodka. You screwed the cap open and took a swig from it. The burning taste of the liquor was strong, it left you viscerally cringing, a small cough rising through your throat.

Sarah giggled at you, then she too opened the top on the bottle she was holding and took a drink from it.

The night progressed smoothly, drunken giggles filled the room, the movie long forgotten and replaced by talking and chatter.

“I'm tired” Sarah drunkenly groaned, plowing backwards onto her pillows.

“Me too” you said, words slurring together. “But I'm so thirsty”

“Then go get a drink” she said, eyes already starting to drift shut, a small yawn slipping past her lips.

“Okayyy, I'll be back” you groaned, stumbling lightly as you stood. You made your way out of Sarah's room and down the hall to the staircase. Gripping the railing you were about to start the descent when a pair of arms wrapped around you, pulling you backwards.

You didn't need to turn around to know it was Rafe Cameron. “This isn't funny Rafe” you hissed through gritted teeth, squirming in his grasp to get him to relinquish his hold.

It was quiet for a moment, his arms around your torso still firm even as you continued trying to worm away from the taller man. His breath fanned across the shell of your ear, then a deep chuckle vibrated through your skull, “I'm not trying to be funny ”.

“Let me go!” You growled, your voice rising in volume, as you began to thrash around. Before you could say anything else, Rafe moved to pull a hand over your mouth, his other arm still wrapped bruisingly tight around you, pressing you deeper into his body. Like a boa constrictor engulfing its prey.

Fear gripped you, your heart pounding in your chest. Struggling harder than before, you began to try and kick, hit, and bite, all futile and in vain.

The hand over your mouth slithered its way down to the column of your throat, gripping it tightly and cutting off any airflow in its wake. The shock alone made you go as stiff as stone, you could hear your heart in your ears and tears started to crowd your waterline.

“R..afe” you choked up. You couldn't breathe at all, it was getting harder to think as the seconds passed by. Your hands weakly reached up to scratch at the limb that was crushing your windpipe, but with the lack-of airflow the only thing you could manage to do was dig your nails into his wrist.

Black dots started to adorn your vision, your mind consumed in a fogginess you couldn't escape, just like you couldn't escape Rafe. As you were about to lose consciousness the iron grip on your throat loosened, you let in a sharp breath, your lungs not getting enough of the oxygen you were consuming.

The hand still holding your throat snaked away and roughly grabbed the back of your neck, the one around your torso gone. “Now fucking walk.” he hissed into your ear through gritted teeth.

A numbing fear spreading throughout your body, your legs wouldn't move an inch. Behind you a scoff could be heard before you were shoved forward roughly, your feet barely catching you before you hit the ground. Your legs shaking violently as you began to slowly move forward to where he was pushing you.

Rafe Cameron's a lot of things, a drug abuser, a belligerent person, but never in your life did you think he'd do something like this.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when your walking was halted, the hand on your nape gripping tighter. You were in front of his bedroom door, you'd never been in there before, he might have killed you if you went in there, but he might also kill you now.

His free hand opened the door, the other shoving you through it. This time you couldn't catch yourself before you collided with the floor. Although you felt sober, the alcohol still in your system made getting up hard. Tears began to flow down your face, your whimpers and sobs the only sound in the otherwise quiet room.

“Get up” he said, anger and hate dripping from his deep baritone voice.

“I -I” was all you could get out before more sobs racked through your body, hyperventilating from the situation you were in. He was standing in front of the door, looking down at you like you were the bane of his existence.

“Don't make me ask again” he said, his voice rising just enough to make you flinch. But still you sat on the floor, crying harder than before.

Heavy footsteps began to approach you, before you could look up to see him towering over you a hand knotted itself into your hair, yanking you upwards onto your feet, a loud cry escaping your lips. “You just love being fucking difficult, don't ya?” He jeered, yanking your head back by the roots of your hair.

Gripping at the short sleeve shirt he wore, you cried out, “N-No, I'm sorry Rafe, I'm sorry” you were an inconsolable mess, you didn't even know what you were apologizing for.

“No you're not” he said pulling your face closer to his, “Not yet”

Closing your eyes as more tears bled down your face; fear bubbled inside of you, nausea swirling in the pit of your stomach.

His other hand grabbed at your chin, “Look at me” he sneered. Even though it was asked like you had an option, you knew you didn't.

You peeled your tear soaked eyes open, and looked up at him. His face was deadly, he looked murderous. Ready to kill you if breathed the wrong way.

“She learns” he sneered, a wide mirthful smile spread across his face. “Now, since you like to walk around this island in these skimpy shorts..” he said, the hand in your hair moving quickly to grope your rear through your biker shorts.

“Rafe… stop” you sobbed, the feeling of his large hand gripping your behind causing you to shiver in his hold, the nausea in your stomach worsening.

“You don't get to tell me what to do” he said, the faux smile now replaced with a look of anger again. He started using the hand on your chin to back you into a wall, pressing your back flat against it. “Here's how things are going to go, you're going to shut up, and stand there, got it?” he said, tilting your head back as far as it would go.

More tears came rushing to your eyes, your bottom lip trembled as you watched Rafe stare down at you like a predator hunting his prey. The hand previously on your ass was now slithering its way up your sides, and under the edge of your crop-top.

His hand on your bare skin felt like fire engulfing every area he touched, then he slid his hand over the whole of your breast, giving it a rough squeeze: then circling his thumb over the bud of your nipple. A deep groan rising in his throat.

Something about his reaction to your fear and body reignited a flame inside of you, “Rafe, I said stop!” You said, shoving him away to the best of your ability.

That same flame snuffed out seconds later when he grabbed your throat harshly and slammed you into the wall, your head knocking against it so hard pain started to bloom in your skull immediately.

“Are you stupid?” He said, pressing you harder into the wall by your neck. “Fine, be difficult.”

His second hand came up to your face, grabbing your cheeks and prying your mouth open before shoving his index and middle fingers down your esophagus, effectively gagging you. “If you bite me, I'll knock your teeth down your fucking throat” he warned, and from his tone of voice this wasn't an empty threat.

The digits lodged in your throat caused you to gag and choke around him. He resumed his ministrations on your breasts, grabbing and groping until he was satisfied.

The hand under your shirt slipped out, and began traveling down your stomach to the hem of your shorts. You tried telling him to stop again, but only incoherent gargles were made out.

“What did you say?” He taunted, the tips of fingers sliding just below the fabric of your shorts. More tears bubbled up to your waterline.

Fighting him is useless, all you could do was stand there and take it. Before his hand traveled any further, it retreated, as did the fingers in your mouth.

His hand grabbed your chin again, but this time almost gently. Then his lips smashed onto yours in a hungry, aggressive kiss, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. His hand grabbed the nape of your neck and pulled you closer to himself.

Pulling away, he whispered in your ear, “I'm going to ruin you so well, that no guy within a twenty-mile radius will want you” he sounded crazy, he knew he sounded crazy.

“Rafe..don't, please” you pleaded again, sinking further into the wall as if it were going to consume you.

“Sh sh” he cooed at you, “You have no reason to be crying, not yet”

Brushing a couple strands of loose hair away from your face, he took a good at you; your disheveled hair from when he yanked you off of the ground, your tear stained face and fearful eyes, how your bottom lip is still trembling, the way your chest was rising and falling rapidly. “On your knees” he told you.

Another soft sob left your lips, your eyes falling shut. Sinking down onto your knees in front of him, a laugh sounded from above you, a genuine, hearty laugh.

“I always knew you were a slut” he said, his voice laced with a noxious venom that was seeping into your bloodstream. “I told you to look at me” he snarled, a hand again gripping the roots of your hair.

Looking up at him through watery lashes, he groaned again. One hand still planted firmly in your hair, the other coming up to the waistband of his pajama pants and tugging them down just below the bulge in his boxers. "You should consider yourself lucky" he chuckled, also pulling down his draws enough to take out his cock.

There it stood, fully erect; he was huge, the tip an angry red, veins trailing up and down the length of it.

He gripped the base of his cock with his free hand, pumping it lightly, dragging you closer by your hair until you were face to face with it, “I don't wanna-” before could finish your plea he thrusted his cock into your mouth and sank in as far as he could. Your gagged chokes were the only thing heard as he thrusted into your mouth once more to the hilt of his cock.

“Fuck..” he growled, pulling out and thrusting back into your mouth. He was too big, your throat is already getting sore from his treatment. Before long he set a harsh pace, fucking into your mouth over and over again. You couldn't breath with the way his cock was being lodged into your throat repeatedly, another round of heavy tears crowded your eyesight forcing their way down your cheeks, though you still kept your eyes glued to his. Tears and drool meet at your chin, dripping down your neck making a horrid mess.

It felt like hours were going by as he continued to use your mouth for his pleasure. His grunts and groans became more frequent the longer it went on, drips of pre-cum coating your tongue with every rough thrust. “Fuuck” Rafe moaned, his head dipping back as his movement stilled and he held you in place on his cock. His length throbbed inside of your throat, and after a couple of moments cum was filling your mouth, and airways; with his hand still planted in your hair, all you could do was choke it down.

He pulled out seconds after, you inhaled in a gasp, coughing and choking on the build up of saliva. More tears rushing to the surface. The hand in your hair now gone, but he still stood over you glaring down.

“C-Can I go now..” you asked in a quiet sob, your voice weak and sore. You looked at the floor, the feeling of his eyes on you too much to bear now.

“God, you really are fucking stupid” he laughed, stripping himself of his pants and boxers. “No, you can't leave,” he barked. “Now stand up”

A whimper escaped past your lips as you slowly stood up, leaning against the wall for support, still staring down at the floor.

His hands came up to your top, pulling it up and off of you. Next they came down to the band of your shorts, this time you weakly grabbed at his wrists, a pathetic attempt on your end. Still he ripped them halfway down your thighs in one go, then yanked them down in another motion, left pooling around your ankles.

The only thing you wore now was your panties, all he stood wearing was his short sleeve shirt.

“Go lay your ass down,” he said, pointing at the bed behind him. You didn't say anything as you took slow steps towards the large bed, which seemed to seal your fate.

Going to lay face down on the mattress a tight grip was placed on your shoulder. “On your back” he demanded, his temper seeming ready to snap again.

Turning around and sitting on the bed in front of Rafe, your gaze remained on the floor. Before you could lay back he shoved you onto the bed, a gasp getting caught in your throat.

He began trailing his fingertips up your thighs slowly, the feeling sending shivers down your spine, chilling you to the bone. They dragged up the sides of your thighs, your hips, to the hem of your underwear; then gripping it and pulling them down your legs slowly.

Your body finally bare to him, he looked you over completely. “Spread your legs” he commanded, hands traveling back down to your thighs, tapping on them impatiently. Still you kept them squeezed shut, refusing to give him what he wanted.

“You must love it when I'm rough with you” he growled, gripping your thighs and prying them apart against your will. Squeezing between them, his hips made it so you couldn't possibly close them now.

His cock laid against your stomach, making it look bigger than before. Pulling back a little, one of the hands on your thigh slid farther up until he was practically cupping your cunt.

A scoff escaped his lips when he slid a finger through your folds. “Y'know, you keep begging me to stop..” he said, bringing his fingers to your mouth and shoving them back down your throat so you could taste yourself coating his fingers. “You're awfully fucking wet”

Humiliation and embarrassment swelled inside of you, a deep red spreading across your face with his finger still inside of your mouth.

After a couple seconds of holding his fingers down your throat he dislodged them, then moved the hand from your face down to your core, spreading your saliva across your folds before suddenly plunging a finger inside of you.

A loud cry left your lips, following that, a sharp sting spread across your face as your head snapped to the side with the force of the impact. He slapped you.

“How many fucking times do I have go tell you to shut up” he barked, punctuating his sentence by pulling his finger out of you and roughly pushing it back in. A cry getting caught in your throat, you managed to keep quiet by biting down on your persistently trembling bottom lip.

Again, he slid his finger in and out of you: when it became easy to sink his digit into you he added another. You could feel yourself dripping onto his fingers and down onto the bed sheets. A muffled whimper escaped your mouth and that only seemed to rile Rafe up more, as he began thrusting his digits into you harder, rocking your body with every motion of his hand. His thumb ghosting lightly over your clit, before rolling the bud under his finger.

A moan clawed its way up your throat and out into the open, though he said nothing, Rafe leaned down and caught your lips in a bruising kiss, shoving his tongue back into your mouth.

He sped up his ministrations on your cunt, finger curling and hitting spots that had you shamefully wet. You didn't want this, but your body was betraying you, reacting to everything he's doing to you.

You felt your cunny squeeze around his finger, suck them in greedily. Rafe pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavily. “You're gonna cum already?” He asked almost mockingly, a laugh on the tip of his tongue.

Shaking your head quickly, you knew it was a lie. The tightening feeling in your stomach, the way you could feel yourself throbbing around his fingers. You were sure he could feel it too.

“Liar” was all he said before drawing tight small circles on your clit, fingers moving faster, if possible. It didn't take long before the tightening feeling in your core snapped; a long whimper escaping your bruised lips.

Your hands gripped the duvet covering the bed, thighs attempting to close without success. Heavy breaths leaving your mouth.

Your core tightened around the fingers inside of you, still pushing you through your high.

Slowing his movements down but never completely stopping, he looked at you intensely: watching every face you made in your post-orgasm state.

He practically ripped his fingers out of you, and removed the shirt he wore. Leaning over you, one hand next to your head to steady himself, the other grabbing the base of his cock and moving to slide the tip through your folds, spreading your slick against the crown of it.

“You should be thanking me,” he said, pressing his cock-head harder against your core, just enough pressure make you squirm.

With the remaining energy you had, you looked into his eyes and sneered, ”Fuck you “ through gritted teeth.

Thrusting into you in one quick motion, he laughed, “No, I'm fucking you. “ A sharp cry was forced out of you, more tears rushing down your face. It didn't matter how wet you were, it felt like he was splitting you in two.

Giving you no time to adjust before he gripped one of your hips and harshly started rutting into you with reckless abandon. Your cunt was throbbing with pain you'd never felt before.

“Rafe! Stop, it hurts!” You cried out, your hands letting go of the duvet to push at his chest.

Again he laughed, “Good, maybe you'll learn to keep that mouth of yours shut” he seemed genuinely amused by the pain you were in, the pain he was putting you through.

The burning sensation between your legs was unbelievable, but what was even more unimaginable was when the sharp ache between your legs was replaced with pleasure that was spreading through you like wildfire, igniting every nerve in your body.

A moan ripped through the air, instead of pushing at this chest you resorted to digging your nails into his biceps, the only thing you could manage in your state.

“What a whore” he groaned, leaning down and taking one of your nipples in his mouth; releasing it, then nipping roughly at the bud. Another soft moan left your lips. “You fucking love this, I feel the way your pussy is pulling me in” he said, leaned closer into you, watching as tears slid down your rosy face.

“Fuck” he grunted, leaning down and catching your lips in his again. The kiss was scorching hot, melting almost. Your lungs left empty from the way he was fucking into you, now you thought you were going to asphyxiate.

He started to trail the kiss to the corner of your lips, to your cheek, down your neck to then start sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin, leaving hickeys in his wake. More low moans and whimpers spilling from your mouth the longer he's inside of you.

“Rafe… please” you whined, hips bucking upwards involuntarily, your eyes screwed shut from the unwanted pleasure coursing through your veins.

“That's it, fuckin’ beg for it” he growled, hips slamming into you at a brutal pace. Lifting himself to lean back on his haunches he gripped your hips and dragged you down onto his cock to meet his thrusts.

Sweat gathering at your hairline, too fucked out to do anything other than lay there and take it. One hand left your hip to start drawing random shapes on your clit.

“Rafe…don't” you gasped, your orgasm building up quicker than the last. Your throat hurt still from his earlier treatment of it, and your strained moans only came to irritate it more.

“I'll do as I fucking please” he snarled, giving you a particularly rough thrust to get his point across. Beads of sweat snaked down his forehead as he continued to fuck you hard enough to make the bed sway back and forth.

An incoherent moan left your lips as the first waves of your orgasm washed over you, drowning in a sea of pleasure you never asked for.

His thrusts were becoming sloppy and his pace long forgotten, his only goal was reaching his peak.

Before long his hips stilled, his cock sunk as deep it would go, kissing your most sensitive spot when warmth spread through your cunt as he filled you with his seed, dripping out from around him and onto the bed below.

Your eyes widened as you looked at Rafe like he had two heads, “D-Did you-” disbelief filled you as he smirked down at you with that same mirthful smile.

“What do you think, baby?” his use of the pet name making you sick, his cock still deep inside of you.

Moving in every way to try and squirm back from him, all he did was press you into the mattress by your hips and muttered a simple, “I'm not done yet”

The End

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #dark rafe cameron #dark rafe x reader #dark obx #outer banks smut #obx #tw noncon #dark fic

244 notes · View notes

skipper1331 · 11 months

Text

For the better // Esme Morgan

a/n: based off this request. Hope you like it.

Esme was the love of your life.

She was sweet, loving and the most caring person you knew. She supported and loved you unconditionally - or so you thought.

The last few weeks, Esme‘s love felt distant, she kept her distance.

She did cuddle you at night and she did kiss you every time she could but each time it felt like it would be the last time you would feel her lips against your own. There was a certain sadness in the air, but you didn’t know why nor did you push her to talk to you. She would talk to you when she’s ready.

You sat in the living room, watching some random tv show as you heard the door open. Shortly after, the tall blonde entered the door you were sat in, "hi" you smiled, puckering your lips.

Something was wrong. Esme‘s eyes were red and puffy, did she cry?

"Hey, what‘s wrong?" you asked, leaving your seat from the couch as you took the few steps towards the defender. Your hands cupped her cheeks, thumbs caressing it softly, "you can talk to me" you whispered. She inhaled sharply, eyes closing as she leaned down, her hands gripping your waist, pulling you close.

She kissed you like you were her forever.

She kissed you like you were the love of her life.

She kissed you good bye.

Tears streamed down her face as she tried to contain herself, it‘s for the better. I‘m doing this for you.

You felt it, this wasn‘t a kiss because she was sad. She was about to do something, wasn‘t she?

"Esme…" you whispered as you took a step back, eyes wide.

You felt your heart break even though she didn‘t say anything yet, you could tell what was about to come - you‘d watched enough of romance-sad movies.

"I‘m so sorry" she apologized, "I want to break up" her own heart broke into thousand of pieces while saying those horrible words.

Shock was written over your face as hurt flashed through your whole body, "why?" you rasped, eyes getting blurry, tears about to fall.

She avoided eye contact, staring at the ground as her head hung low - in shame.

After a few broken seconds of silence, she spoke again, "I should go"

It only made you angrier, storming over, you grabbed her wrist, "look me in the eyes and tell me you don‘t love me anymore"

Both of your faces held so much emotions but one was the same: the world had just crashed down on you.

Never in a million years, you would‘ve thought that Esme would break up with you - not after 5 years.

Never in a million years, Esme would‘ve thought that she would break up with you.

You loved her.

She loved you.

Easy - yet she couldn‘t be with you anymore. It‘s for the better.

"I can‘t" she stated firmly. Your shoulders sagged, you had lost hope. If that‘s what she really wanted, you would support her - even if it broke your heart. If it‘s for the better.

Taking your chin between her thumb and index finger, she pressed one final kiss to your forehead.

I am sorry.

And I do love you.

Your once shared flat felt no longer like home. It felt weird to lay in bed without Esme, to know that she wouldn‘t come back - that she wouldn‘t join you. You were wide awake, wondering what the was blonde was doing at the moment. If she missed you the way you missed her? You had no energy to cry as you already cried the whole evening. What did you do wrong?

With dark circles under the eyes you went to training, your eyes looked swollen, noticeable for everyone. It was clear that something had happened because Esme looked the same. Both of you looked tired and exhausted, like neither of you had a minute of sleep which was the case.

So while Esme stayed at Hempo’s and Chloe’s side, you never left the Aussies sides, Mary and Alanna cheering you up. Well, at least they tried to.

At the end of training, you had lost all your patience, motivation and passion.

City did no longer feel like home. Manchester did no longer feel like home.

Esme was your home.

"Tommy?" you whispered into the phone, your manager answering with "yeah?"

The past week was horrible. To see Esme every day broke your heart in more and more pieces. You stopped leaving of your flat if not necessary, you ditched plans with friends - most of the time you sat in the living room crying while you ate ice cream and watched Glee. You didn‘t know what Esme was up to or where she lived, all you knew was that you didn‘t want to be in Manchester anymore, let alone the same country.

"I’ll do it" you told him, not much thought behind it.

You wanted to leave and you did.

As the season came to an end and the transfer window opened, you were the first to sign somewhere you always wanted to sign.

FC Barcelona.

It took you one week to get to leave Manchester.

You didn‘t say good bye to your friends and team mates, you just left the City and country.

It was your way of escaping the pain, your heartbreak.

It‘s for the better.

Barcelona as the club and as the City was amazing. Your new team mates greeted you with open arms and made you feel more than welcome. You settled in quite well, you stuck to your national team mates, Keira and Lucy, though. They helped you to furnish your new flat - not a picture with Esme anywhere.

It was Lucy who brought her up one day as the two of you sat in a little café. The og lioness had always been like a sister to you, she had taken you under wig the moment you joined City and the senior lionesses squad. She knew something was off, Keira had noticed it too, the way your smile never reached the top, your eyes not shining the way they used to. The sparkle was missing - the sparkle Esme was responsible for.

"So you alright, kid?" the defender asked as she sat across from you, sipping her coffee.

"No" you answered straightforward, munching on your panini.

"Esme?-"

"Broke up with me" you took a large sip of your drink, avoiding eye contact at every cost. If you looked at Lucy, you would’ve broke down in the middle of the day. Which did already happen a lot more often than you would‘ve liked, you just couldn‘t help it. Everything remind you of Esme: sometimes it was a song, the pictures on your phone or you just missed in her in general. It didn‘t make any sense. Why did she break up with you? It was the question that kept you awake at night.

"Did she tell you why?"

"No, she said fucking nothing" you spat, getting angrier by each second that went by. "I left the second I could. I couldn‘t stand seeing her" you admitted in a low voice, some tears streaming down your face, "It‘s like I can’t breathe anymore and I don‘t know what do to"

Wordlessly, the lioness stood up and took the a seat next to you, her arms going around your shoulders as she pulled you close.

"I‘m sorry"

Nothing more was said as she held you, tears wetting her shirt.

Being in the starting line up made you nervous - debut time.

With the Barca crest on your chest you felt so much pride. You did it. You made your childhood dream come true.

The game went amazing, you played phenomenal, the way you could link up with the girls, create chances and even score a debut goal was pure class. You celebrated like you usually would, a celebration Esme requested ages ago for you to do one time - you did it every time since then.

And maybe it was wrong to do so, she wasn‘t your girlfriend anymore, she wasn‘t even a friend, she was- well, nobody. Somebody you used to know.

Fuck that.

She was everything.

She was still the love of your life.

She would forever be the girl of your dreams.

She was fucking everything.

Unknown to you, the tall blonde stood in the stands of the stadium. She watched you shine while she wore your lionesses jersey. Everything you did, she watched with heart eyes, a proud smile displayed on her face as she cheered for you proudly. You did it. She couldn’t be prouder.

Barcelona made you glow and grow.

It was indeed for the better.

International break.

Something you hadn‘t thought about. When Sarina called, you didn’t say no. Of course not. You loved to represent England and the lionesses were a big family - your family.

As the days went the by and camp got closer, your heart went crazy. Your thoughts were consumed by Esme. Like always.

Esme.

You would lie, if you said you didn’t look at old pictures of the two of you.

You would lie, if you said you didn‘t cry yourself to sleep.

You would lie, if you said you didn‘t love her.

She used to be your best friend, soulmate and girlfriend, you were miserable without her.

Don‘t get me wrong, you went out with the Barca girls, they were a bunch of goofballs which you loved but your other half was missing. There was no one you could tell about your day, whether it was good, bad or just boring.

The thoughts just stayed inside of you.

Your bubbly side was missing. The transfer was a great decision for your career, you became the best version of yourself as a football player but as a human, you were the worst version of yourself. In no way, you were rude or mean towards anyone - it was just, the sparkle that was missing.

Lucy could sense your shut down. The way you gripped the seat in the plane, your eyes drained on the seat in front of you, burning holes into it as your jaw was clenched, veins popping up.

Esme.

Arriving at St. George’s Park was interesting. Lucy was engaging you in a conversation, talking about Barcelona as you stepped into the facility. What you failed to notice, thanks to Lucy, was that just minutes earlier the City girls had arrived. Esme was standing next to the much smaller Lauren Hemp as they turned around.

The tall blondes breath hitched, you looked breathtaking. Everything Chloe said fell to deaf ears, her only remaining focus: you.

Feeling eyes on you, you turned your head away from Lucy to see the City girl.

"Esme" you breathed out, suitcase dropping out of your hand as it clattered to the ground. Inaudible, you gulped, breathing quickening. She looked beautiful. Mixed feelings rushed through your body: relief, anger and anxiety.

You felt relieved to see her after what felt like ages - finally able to breathe again.

It made you angry to see her, standing there like that and looking pretty.

And then you felt anxious. Should you say hello? No, right? She broke up with you - not the other way around. The City girls, did they hate you? You left without another word, they were your friends too. Nobody knew you left, not until City announced your leaving and Barcelona announced your signing.

You wanted to cry, to be honest. Your whole world crashed down again. She was only a few meters away from you and yet it felt like she was on the other side of the world.

From strangers to friends, friends in to lovers and strangers again.

Lucy cleared her throat to bring you out of your trance, the blonde still having you wrapped around her finger even without doing anything. But what did you expect? You loved her and some months were definitely not enough to get over her, nor would be a year. It was Esme, your sweet girl.

Caught off guard, you grabbed your suitcase, mumbling something before you walked away. The facility, a place you knew well enough.

"Wait up" Lucy called, pulling her suitcase with her as she jogged in your direction.

"Do you still think it was for the better?" Lauren asked, "she looks so heartbroken."

Esme ignored her as she fought against her own tears.

You weren‘t the only one who had to deal with a heartbreak. Just because Esme was the person who actually ended it didn‘t mean she enjoyed it. She loved you. She loved you the same as before and she‘ll forever do so.

She did for you. It‘s for the better.

You didn‘t interact much with Esme and if you did, only on the pitch. It already hurt enough knowing she was there, but not yours.

She was your colleague now.

It seemed like Sarina hated you, pairing you up with Esme all the time. Of course that wasn‘t the case, the blonde defender and you had just so much chemistry on the pitch. You work together like an oiled machine which you hated.

You hated that you were still the same old duo.

You hated that she crossed passes to you like nobody else could.

You hated that you still loved her.

Though, both of you stayed silent while doing the drills.

colleague nothing more.

Back in your room, you fell on the bed, your roommate somewhere in facility. You felt physically and mentally exhausted.

As a soft knock was heard, you sat up, did she forget her key card?

Opening the door, you were met with a sight you didn‘t expect, "hi…" the tall girl said.

Anger floated through your body as you wanted to slam the door. You didn‘t. Instead you asked monotonously, "what do you want?"

She winced at your tone, so foreign.

"I‘m sorry- I didn‘t know why I came" she muttered, turning on her heels.

"You broke up with me" you stated, stepping in the hall. The defender stopped, "I did" she answered.

"Why?"

"Because it‘s for the better. Have a good night, y/n" with that she left, yourself feeling angrier than before.

It’s for the better, really? What kind of answer was that?!

You did not cry that night, your clenched jaw prevented it - your anger prevented it.

As soon as you woke up the next day, your anger was back and higher than before. You just wanted one reason why she broke up with you, so you could start healing.

It angered you to see her at breakfast - smiling.

It angered you to see her on the pitch - on the same team as you.

Everything she did angered you.

And suddenly you snapped.

It was just the two of you left in the changing room, the other girls already heading to dinner. As Esme was about to walk out, you marched over, blocking the door.

"No"

The blonde looked confused, what was going on? "No. Tell me why you broke up with me" your index finger poked her chest angrily as you took some steps forwards, the defender walking backwards. "After 5 years, Esme" a tear rolled out of your eye as she wanted so desperately to wipe it away. "You threw me away like I was nothing, like we were nothing."

"Don‘t say that" she whispered, closing her eyes to hold back the tears.

"But you did!" you shouted, angrily wiping away the tears that streamed down your face. Grabbing your wrists gently, she pulled your hands away, "you‘ll hurt yourself" and it broke you.

In the middle of the changing room, you started crying like you did the nights before you left Manchester and like you did the nights in Barcelona.

"Don‘t fucking touch me" immediately she dropped your hands, mumbling an apology.

Taking a deep breath, "I heard you talking" she said while sitting down at a random cubby.

"with whom?"

"Tommy"

Tommy and you sat at the dinner table, notes splayed across the table as his laptop was there as well.

"These are the offers" he told you as he leafed through the folder, "and that‘s the best" opening something on his screen, your eyes stopped at the club logo.

Barcelona.

"They want you"

Your eyes went wide, Barcelona wow. They‘re amazing, big fan ever since you‘re little. "They want you now"

He started talking about the contract, your salary, game appearances and more.

He simply talked you through every stage of the contract, their thoughts about signing you, every detail they stated in their document.

Two hours later, he leaned back in his chair, "it‘s now up to you if you want to do it"

"It would be amazing, wouldn‘t it?" you mumbled, biting on your lower lip. That‘s what you always wanted.

Barcelona. The best.

But that was before you met Esme, the girl of your dreams. "It would be perfect for your career"

"Do I have time to think about it?"

"They want an answer at the end of next week. Do you have doubts?" he asked kindly.

Over the years, Tommy became much more than just being a manager - a friend.

"I don‘t know. I‘d love to play there but City is my home. Esme is my home" you told him, fingers massaging your temples.

"You’d give up this of an opportunity for her?"

You looked at him - answering without hesitation, "yes"

"Okay" nothing more was said, he respected your answer and he understood that you had to think about such a decision, "call me when you have an answer."

"You would‘ve said no" she told you, her hand wiping over her face, "and I couldn’t let that happen"

"so you broke up with me because- " you connected the dots, realization hitting you like a truck.

"Well, I thought if I broke up with you, you would sign that contract. The thing you always wanted" she shrugged her shoulders, her only ever intention was for you to follow your dream - the dream you had since you were a little girl. Who was she to stop you from living it?

"You’re an asshole!" you yelled, marching the locker room up and down, "do you know what you put me through?!"

The defender stood up, your rapid movement stressing her out and her own anger slowly bubbling up, "i did what was the best for you!"

"Fuck you" you spat.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you would‘ve said yes"

you couldn’t.

"Thought so"

"You had no right to break my heart like that!"

"I had no other choice! I didn‘t want to be the reason you didn‘t fulfill your dream!"

Grumbling, you stood up with new anger, hurt and confusion.

"I did it because I love you! I love you more than anything and to think that you would miss the opportunity to- to play alongside Alexia Putellas, Aitana Bonmatí and so on, for me, frustrated me. You have to think about yourself first-"

"You love me?" you cut her off, heart feeling so many emotions as your body felt so confused and mind was spinning.

"I never stopped"

"Esme…"

"You don‘t need to say it back- well, um actually, it would be okay if you don‘t love me anymore. I get it-"

You couldn’t stand it anymore - to think that you didn’t love her. After everything, there wasn‘t a day where you didn‘t love her. Your body, soul and mind was consumed by Esme. She was the love of your life. So you just kissed her. Your lips pressed desperately against the blondes, hands cupping her cheeks as her hands found your waist. She gasped into your mouth, caught off guard. There was nothing sweet about this kiss - Esme and you mostly shared the most sweetest kisses but not now. Not after everything. The kiss was rough, anger and frustration purred into one another, yet the both of you happy to feel each others touch again.

"I love you, you idiot" you muttered between more kisses.

With the need of oxygen, she pulled away, resting her forehead against your own, "do you?" big wide eyes looked at you, so much hope behind the orbs - the orbs you hadn‘t seen in so long.

"I do" you purred, playing with her baby hair, "you hurt me though"

She nodded slowly, her hands still around your waist, afraid you would disappear, "I need time"

She hummed, mumbling apology after apology. She never meant to hurt you, she just wanted you to be happy.

"I love you so much" Esme mumbled, pressing featherlight kisses along your jaw, stopping an inch above your lips, "you‘re so beautiful" gently, interlocking your lips, she kissed you good morning, the Spanish sun shining in your bedroom.

The last two weeks of the off-season Esme was in Spain visiting you and before that, the both of you visited Greece as you enjoyed your holidays together.

After a year, things were thankfully back normal. Neither of you could stay away from each other and after the day in the changing room, many conversations followed and your trust was slowly built up again.

This was Esme we were talking about, the sweetest girl in the world who no bad cell in her body and was always thinking about you.

Like before your break up, she took you out on dates - it didn‘t matter that she was in Manchester and you in Barcelona, she called you every day to ask how your day was and when she visited you or the other way around, you spent the day in the best ways possible: going out, playing mini-golf and so on. Esme had many cute little date ideas.

And after that year, where trust was earned back, love got stronger and missed kisses were shared, she asked you to be her girlfriend. To which you obviously answered with yes.

You loved Esme.

Esme loved you.

The way she handled things was wrong but you understood her - she wanted you to be happy and to be honest, she was right: it was for the better.

Your prime time was, is and will be at Barca, till the end of the line.

You would‘ve regretted it if you had said no.

So maybe your break up wasn‘t the worst thing. For sure, you never felt that much pain in the time of your break up ever before and you never want to experience something like that again but after all, Esme tried to push you in the right direction - to help you. She had no bad thought in mind, just what was the best for you.

And back strong again, one day not your surname will be at the back of your Barca jersey but Morgan.

It was indeed for the better.

————————

#esme morgan #esme morgan x reader #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #engwnt #engwnt x reader #lionesses x reader #lionesses #lucy bronze #lauren hemp #chloe kelly #manchester city x reader #man city x reader #man city women #manchester city women

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kamotecue · 1 year

Text

i dare you to love me ❖ o. batlle

pairing: ona batlle x reader

summary: you always gave ona lilies, it was never roses or tulips. she never knew the reason why, little did she know there was a meaning behind it.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

every day you’d walk into the locker room and hand lilies to ona. the team wouldn’t question it, as they knew how you were so smitten with the spanish defender. everyone knew except the person herself.

she thought you were interested in someone else, so she tried to get rid of the feelings in her heart. it was excruciating for the whole team to watch. tooney even talked to ona about it, who dismissed it as she thought you didn’t return the feelings.

but here you were sitting down on the pitch talking with mary, you saw the goal keeper like an older sister.

“i just don’t understand how she doesn’t know?!” you were bewildered at the fact that ona had no idea that you had feelings for her, that you returned them. you were in disbelief if the spanish defender had actually had feelings, but the whole team insisted.

“maybe she’s too oblivious?” mary suggested, as you groaned. your palms were covering your face, as mary gave you a few pats on the back in order to comfort you.

“i even gave her flowers that has a meaning from my favorite movie, imagine me and you.” you removed your gloves before throwing them to the ground.

“what’s the meaning behind them anyways?” you hummed, mary tilted her head in curiosity as you sighed.

“in the movie, the lilies mean ‘i dare you to love me’. it means i’m daring her to love me.” you said, as mary shoved you lightly.

“always a cheesy one.” mary said, before standing up. she had noticed the spanish defender leaning against the wall, but you were too busy ranting to notice her. not knowing how she smiled at your rant, the way she’d look at you with soft eyes.

“i believe you two need a talk.” mary said, giving you a pat on the shoulder before leaving. you questioned her words, who?

you heard someone clear their throat, you glanced backwards to see ona looking at you with a small smirk.

“so it is true.” ona said, her spanish accent was noticeable. you looked at her a bit flustered before standing up yourself.

you were going to walk past her but she grabbed your right wrist and pulled you closer to her.

“is that why you give me lilies?” her voice was soft, as you felt a bit flustered at how close her face was.

you gave her a soft nod, to which she smiled brightly to.

“well then, would you go on a date with me?” your eyes widened, as ona looked at you. anticipation was seen in her eyes.

“and if it goes well, i promise to love you onwards.” you gave her a small smile.

“sure, batlle.”

#ona batlle #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle x reader #espwnt x reader #la roja x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot

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httplilyyy · 1 year

Text

𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 || 𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐀 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐎

pairing: alessia russo x reader

summary: the world seemed to be falling apart at your fingertips.

warnings: swearing, hurt / comfort (i think?)

word count: 2.3k

a/n: listened to some sad songs (specifically sign of the times) and this was the outcome. it's a bit of a shambles but oh well.

woso masterlist

The final whistle blew and you felt yourself crumble to the ground. Laying on your back, you hid your face in your hands as the Spanish players celebrated around you.

It all came crashing down at once. You no longer held the high of being in a world cup final, only feeling sadness and remorse.

You soon felt a pat on your stomach causing you to remove your hands from your face. Your eyes met Mary’s, the goalkeeper looking down at you with dejection.

She managed to pull you to your feet and without any words uttered between each other, you knew how badly this loss hurt.

Scanning the pitch, your eyes struggled to find one particular person. But once your eyes locked with hers, you saw the tears streaming down her cheeks as she desperately tried to stop them falling.

As if your mind was in a world of its own, your legs carried you towards her. Your arms wrapped around her waist as she hid her face in your neck.

You held onto the striker with all your might, whispering comforting words in her ear as she sobbed uncontrollably into your shoulder.

Resting your chin on the top of her head, you looked at your teammates, each of them coping with the loss in different ways but you don’t think they could be feeling as bad as you did.

Your body went numb from the pain, you felt like you didn't have any more tears to cry. You didn't have the energy to do so anyway.

If you didn’t let yourself get distracted for one second, then you wouldn't have lost the ball in your own half leading to Spain's goal.

All you wanted to do was crawl into a hole and disappear. Even the sympathetic gazes felt judgmental. You could practically hear the news screaming at you for being the reason why England lost the world cup.

But despite how you were feeling, you made sure that Alessia was alright, all the way up until you were back in your hotel room.

Swiping the key card on the door, your heart started to feel just that bit more heavier. Walking into your shared room with Alessia you sat on the edge of your bed, your head finding its place back in your hands.

You hadn’t spoken a word to your girlfriend since the two of you were on the pitch and you could feel the tension. You hated it.

Before you could realise what you were doing, it was like the both of you were on autopilot. The two of you getting ready for bed but not daring to look each other in the eyes.

It pained you that Alessia felt as if she couldn’t confide in you anymore. You could hear her silent sniffles as the blonde tried her hardest to keep herself together.

“Less?�� You tried, looking up from your bag.

“Yeah?” Alessia said hoarsely, her voice betraying her leading her to clear her throat.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” You said softly, nervously waiting for her response.

“Of course.” She replied but still not daring to look at you.

“Do you want to talk about anything?” You asked, walking over to her.

Placing your hands on her waist, you turned her around so she was facing you. Although, she kept her gaze on the floor.

“It’s all my fault.” Alessia said, the back of her throat burning from the unshed tears.

“Less, it’s not your fault.” You said, reaching for her hands but she moved them away.

“It is, if I played better then I wouldn't have been taken off and if-”

“Baby, its not-”

“What, ‘it’s not my fault’? Just stop! What else do you want me to say? Huh? That it's your fault instead?” Alessia snapped, throwing her hands up in the air and stepping out of your hold, finally looking at you in the eyes.

“If it makes you feel better, yes!” You said, taking a step forward only for Alessia to move two paces back.

“Fine! It’s all your fault! You were the defender, you made the mistake. It's. All. Your. Fault.”

“I know and I'm sorry.” You replied, eyes brimming with tears.

“Sorry isn’t going to change anything!”

“I know, I just-”

“You just what, huh?” Alessia questioned rhetorically.

“I should’ve tried harder.”

“You should try harder in a lot of things.” Alessia said dryly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You stopped, taken back by her comment.

“Don’t act like we aren't falling apart.” Alessia stressed, her hands coming up to wipe away her tears.

“Couples fight, Less.”

“But that’s all we’ve been doing. We don’t spend any time together. It’s like we're not even a couple anymore.”

“Is that really what you think?”

“I don’t know what to think anymore. You’re barely home, always out doing god knows what.”

“I’m out training.”

“All the time? Seriously?”

“Well, not all the time but-”

“I can’t do this anymore, y/n.”

“What do you mean, you can’t do this?” You questioned, your heart jumping to your throat.

“This, whatever this is.” Alessia said, pointing between the two of you. “Us.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” You wondered, your voice a lot quieter than it was.

“I dont know.” Alessia huffed, the palms of her hands digging into her eyes. “Maybe a break would be best for us."

“If that’s what you really want?”

“You’re not going to fight for us or anything?”

“Jesus Less, what do you want me to say?”

“Anything! Something to show me that you still love me!”

“Fuck! Of course I love you! There isn’t anyone else in the world who I love more than you!”

You don’t know where it all went wrong. One moment it was about the world cup and the next it was about your relationship. Or rather what was your relationship.

The two of you looked at each other, chests rising up and down rapidly as you tried to calm down.

“Where’s this all coming from Less?” You questioned softly.

“I don’t- I uh, I’m just going to go to bed.” Alessia said, dismissing you as she climbed under her covers.

“Oh, well, good night then.” You said, smiling sadly to yourself.

Making your way to the other bed in the hotel room, you got under the covers yourself and pulled the duvet up to your chin. You could feel the tears falling down your face but you paid them no mind as you stared up at the ceiling, your mind slowly drifting off to sleep.

You don't know how long you were asleep for but you were woken up by the sound of shuffling and sniffles. From the corner of your eye, you could see the silhouette of Alessia moving around in her bed.

A loud huff filled the silence of the room and just when you were about to go back to sleep, Alessia spoke up.

“Y/n?” She questioned quietly, voice breaking as she tried not to cry again.

“Yeah?” You replied, resting an arm behind your head as the other laid on your waist.

“Can I- never mind.” Alessia said, rolling over onto her side.

“What’s up?” You asked, tilting your head to look at her, only to be met with her back.

“Nothing, just go back to sleep.”

You huffed to yourself, contemplating what you were going to do for a while before you pushed back the covers and made your way over to Alessia’s bed.

“Budge up.” You said, tapping Alessia’s back gently.

“What?” Alessia questioned, tilting her head to look up at you.

“C’mon, scooch.”

Alessia did as she was told and moved so you could slip into bed behind her. You wrapped an arm around her waist, placing your head on the pillow.

The striker immediately melted at your touch and for the first time that night, carried a small smile on her face.

“Get some sleep, my love.” You whispered, placing a kiss behind her ear.

“But-”

“Nope, we can talk in the morning.” You cut her off, pulling the duvet up for the both of you.

It didn’t take you long before you were asleep and many hours passed before you were woken up again. This time you were awoken by the sun peaking through the blinds and beaming down on you.

It was still the early hours of the morning, but you decided to get up. Just as you were about to, you felt a body start to shake beside you. Your arm, caught under the pillow, being held down by Alessia’s head.

You could see how, with every sob, Alessia’s body would shake. A hand covered her mouth, desperate for you not to hear her but it was no use.

“Less?” You questioned tiredly.

Not getting a response, you used your free hand to pull on Alessia’s shoulder, forcing her to turn towards you. She looked at you, her bright blue eyes showing her pain as she tried not to crumble at your touch.

She fully turned into you, her hands gripping onto your t-shirt, afraid that you’d go somewhere. burying her head in your chest, you wrapped your arms around her, rubbing a soothing hand up and down her back whilst the other ran its fingers through her hair.

With each movement you made, Alessia clutched onto you harder. She was getting more and more worked up, your top now completely soaked with her tears. Seeing her like this made your heart twist painfully.

“I- I-” Alessia said, trying to get a word out, her voice breaking as she spoke.

“Hey, you’re okay.” You said, pulling her head to rest just above your heart. “Focus on my heartbeat.”

After a little while Alessia’s sobs ceased and her grip on your shirt lessened. You kept her close to your chest as she calmed down. Once she pulled away you finally got a look at her face.

Her eyes were bloodshot and red, her cheeks were all blotchy and her eyes no longer seemed to hold the illuminous blue that they always do. Her throat kept bobbing up and down as she tried to keep the tears at bay.

You reached a hand to cup her cheek, brushing away the stray tears. She leaned into your palm, giving it a kiss.

“You okay?” You asked, voice cracking as you were so quiet.

Alessia went to speak but opted for a small nod instead. You let out a small chuckle and pulled her back into your embrace.

You rested your cheek on the top of her head, inhaling the scent of her shampoo.

“Want to tell me what’s got you so worked up?” You tried again.

“You.” Alessia sniffled, her response coming out muffled as she nestled in your neck.

“Me?” You parroted.

“About last night.”

“Oh.”

“I took the loss out on you and I'm so sorry.”

“It’s okay, promise.” You assured her, “and I know I’ve not been the best partner recently.”

“Why is that?”

“I wanted to surprise you with something but it fell through and I didn't want to take my stress out on you.”

“Oh.” Alessia mumbled.

“What?”

“I uh I just thought you didn’t love me anymore.”

A lump forms in your throat and you feel tears prickling the back of your eyes. You swallow the emotion and try again but it doesn't work.

“God, Less I'm so sorry.” You said, feeling the back of your throat burn. “For everything.”

“Maybe we need to work on some things.” Alessia said with a small shrug..

“Definitely, maybe my defending a bit more.” You said jokingly.

“Oh one-hundred percent.” Alessia laughed.

“Hey!”

“But seriously,” Alessia said, sitting up so she was facing you, “if you want us to work, you need to talk to me and not shut me out.”

“I’ll work on that, I promise. I never want to make you feel like that again.”

“I know.” Alessia smiled but it soon turned into a frown. “I kind of don’t want to go home.”

“Why not?” You wonder, sitting up too.

“I know we made history by getting into the final it's just-”

“-Not the same.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not sure i can say the same.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, as much as I am heartbroken over the loss and I’ll be beating myself up about it for the rest of my life, I can’t wait to get back home and finally just have some me and you time.”

“That does sound nice.”

“I won't miss the spiders, that's for sure.”

“I’ll bring one back just for you.” Alessia teased.

“Oh really?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow to test her.

“Yup.”

“God, I love you.” You said, flopping back onto the bed and looking at the ceiling.

“Yeah, yeah. I love you too.” Alessia smiled, leaning over and pressing a hand to your chest so she could place a kiss on your lips.

When she pulled away you chased after her but she pushed you back onto the mattress.

“That’s all you’re getting for now.”

“For now, hmm?” You said, wiggling your eyebrows.

Alessia rolled her eyes but leaned in for another kiss. You gently cupped her cheek, pulling away from the kiss to look in her eyes. You leaned forward once more peppering kisses to her forehead, then to her nose, to her cheek, jaw, all over her face.

You felt Alessia’s cheeks pull up into a smile causing you to stop and look at her once again. Not saying anything you fell back on the bed, bringing Alessia with you.

She rested her head on your chest, intertwining your fingers and resting them on your stomach before you both drifted back off to sleep. The two of you smiling despite the outcome of yesterday's match and argument.

There wasn’t anything that could pull you apart.

#alessia russo #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo imagines #alessia russo x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #engwnt #engwnt x reader

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bellysoupset · 19 days

Text

Sick at Home - Part 2

Vince woke up a little past midnight, with the noise of the front door opening and closing.

There was giggling down the hall and Vince sighed, peeling Liv off of him — she was knocked out and still burning up, but not quite as much as before.

Downstairs, the living room lights were off, but the kitchen was on and Vince leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed, watching as Rita and Maryann, Sophia's friends, scoured the fridge for food. His own sister was slumped over the kitchen island, head in her hands and clearly drunk.

"Uh-hum," Vince cleared his throat and the two girls squealed, jumping up. Sophia simply lifted up her head and let out a groan.

"Mr. Monacelli-" "Mr. Moan- I mean, Monacelli!"

Vince stared at them, amused, before rolling his eyes and looking at Sophia, "what happened to I'm not gonna drink, Vince?"

"Uhhhm... M'not drunk," Sophia slurred, which would've been a lot more believable if she wasn't hugging the counter. Vince scoffed, walking further into the kitchen.

"What about you two?" he squinted at the girls and Maryann wavered, while Rita's face turned beet red.

"We're not drunk! We're not!"

"Yeah, there wasn't even anything to get drunk on," Maryann pouted, "they bought a two pack, for twenty people. I told you, Josh is super cheap," she turned to glare at Rita and the girl waved her off quickly, still looking mortified Vince was standing in front of her.

"I'm not sure I believe you," Vince groaned, then jumped as Sophia slid down her stool, falling on her ass on the ground. He couldn't help but cackle, crossing the room to help her up, "not drunk, uh?"

"Not- no," Sophia whined, she wrangled herself away from him, stumbling and bracing against the counter, "not drunk..."

Vince's amused smile slipped and fell as her friends chirped in, "yeah, she had like one beer. Hey bitch, sit down, you're gonna fall again."

"Lang-" he started to say automatically, before pausing, "one beer? Nothing else?"

"Nope," Maryann popped the P of her word, turning to Rita, "let's go?"

"Did anyone hand her any other drink?" Vince had completely tuned the teenagers out, his blood suddenly going cold. A memory of Wendy sitting in her bathtub looking completely destroyed flashed before his eyes, "anything? Even water?"

"No..." Rita frowned, "why? What's wrong?"

"You don't see- She's acting- Bambi, c'mere," Vince stepped closer despite his prickly little sister jumping back, "look at me, Soph," he cupped her face to force her to look at him, fully expecting to find her pupils blown, only to startle as his hand met burning skin, "Aw, Sophia..."

"What's going on?" Her best friend stepped closer, "Soph?"

"She's okay," he breathed out relief and nearly melted on a puddle as Soph lowered her head to his shoulder and whined: "Vin, I don't feel well..."

"She's just sick," he reassured Rita, the girl's big brown eyes squinting at her friend in concern, "I think you two should go, before you end up catching this... Do you want me to call you an Uber? Or drive you home?"

"We're not drunk, Mr. Moan," Maryann rolled her eyes, fishing out the car keys from her purse. Her personality was sarcastic and prickly like Sophia's, but Vince felt a vindictive sense of relief at the fact he knew Mary wasn't Soph's closest friend, "we can drive ourselves."

"Uh-hum," he wasn't sure he believed them, but there were more pressing issues at hand. They seemed very alert, so Vince sighed and gave in, "alright, uh- Get home safe."

"Feel better, Soph," Rita waved to her friend, while Maryann grabbed her by the wrist to drag her out, with a stolen bottle of juice in her hands.

"Your friends are so weird," Vince whispered, turning to face his sister. She let out a huff, cheek pressed to his bicep and eyes shut, "let's get you to bed, kiddo."

"My head's hurting," Sophia groaned and Vince wrapped a hand around her elbow, guiding her out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

"You got a fever," he explained, a hand hoovering behind her back as they climbed up the stairs, "I think you caught Liv's bug."

"Liv- Liv's sick?" Sophia frowned, stopping at the landing of the stairs and glancing at Livia's white door, covered in pink stickers, just ahead of them, "I thought she was just being whiny because Ma and Babbo are gone..."

"She's got a stomach flu," Vince cringed, grabbing Sophia's shoulders and steering her away from their baby sister's room, "and she's finally sleeping now, so leave her be. I'm gonna get you some meds... Are you feeling nauseous at all?"

She shook her head, falling sit on her bed and groaning, "just a headache and dizzy..."

"Alright," Vince shuffled uselessly, wanting to fuss over her in the same way he did Liv and knowing full well Sophia was going to bite his head off, "I'm gonna get you some Tylenol for the headache and a bottle of water. You need anything else?"

"No," she yawned, starting to remove all of her rings and chains.

Instead of just grabbing the pills in his parent's first aid kid, Vince grabbed the whole plastic case, as well as a bucket downstairs and Gatorade. Sophia didn't seem nauseous, but he thought that was a matter of when, not if.

He stepped back in her room and let out a chuckle, "where the hell did you find that, Soph?"

His sister was wearing a combo of her own PJs little shorts, with one of his big team uniforms on top, back from his high school days, fitting on her like a dress.

"It's comfy, Ma said I could keep all of them," Sophia yawned, slipping under the covers and rolling on the bed so her face was buried in the pillows. On her back Monacelli was written in big white letters against the black fabric.

"Well, not all of them, I wanna frame one," Vince pouted, planting the Gatorade on her bedside table and the bucket next to her bed, "take your meds," he poked her shoulder and Sophia let out a groan, but grabbed the pills he was handing her without a complaint and swallowed them with a Gatorade gulp.

"Can I sleep now?" She yawned again and Vince sighed, nodding and lingering like a worried mother. He hadn't taken her temperature and Sophia was going to be mad if he insisted on it now... "Are you gonna just stand there? Don't be a creep, get out of my room."

Point in case.

Vince rolled his eyes, "I'm gonna be in my room, just yell if you need anything. I'm leaving all doors open."

"Okay," she huffed, sounding exhausted, then turned her head, blue eyes piercing him, "go away."

He didn't bother answering, flipping her off and walking out of the bedroom. Before going to his own, he sneaked inside Liv's bedroom to check on her. The little girl was still sound asleep and still had a fever, so he dug through the first aid kit until he found the old ear thermometer and waited for it to beep.

Still a 101.5 ºF....

He flopped down in his own bed with a sigh, vision blurring with exhaustion as he texted Wendy, despite the fact it was nearly 1 AM. Vince never felt bad about texting his girlfriend late at night, since she wouldn't wake up with something as simple as a text notification anyway.

"Liv's sick, puked the meds twice already. Can I feed her more??"

He dropped the phone on the pillow and rolled on his side, muffling a tiny burp against the fabric. His own upset belly wasn't over, intestines still squeezing and cramping, making him feel slightly queasy.

It was almost 3 AM when he woke up with his phone screen lighting up. Wendy had sent an answer, so she was probably on shift instead of home.

HoneyBee: when did you give her the meds?

He was too sleepy to type an answer, instead hitting the voice note button, "hey honey, sorry for bothering you. It was around 9 PM."

Wendy didn't answer him, instead the phone switched into call mode and Vin let out a yawn, picking it up, "Hi..."

"Sorry, did I wake you up?" she sounded wide awake and Vince shook his head, before realizing she couldn't see him.

"It's fine, I have to go check on her ag-" he yawned, "again... How are you?"

"I'm fine, it's been a hectic night. I got pulled as an assistant into surgery, was super cool," she was speaking a mile a second, "if you fed it to her around 9 PM, it's safe by now. How high is the fever?"

"Nearly 102," Vince sat up slowly, his whole body felt heavy, "should I wake her up to feed her more meds?"

"Take her temperature again, if the fever went up then yeah. Fevers are dangerous with little kids," Wendy sounded almost excited, but he knew it was just the adrenaline still going through her.

"Mmm'kay," Vince pulled the phone away from his face as he let out another burp, this one not so tiny. When he pressed the device back to his ear, his girlfriend had been stunned into silence, "Wen?"

"You're feeling sick, aren't you?" He could almost see her glaring at him and Vince shrugged.

"I think I'm just tired," he said, which wasn't a lie, more like wishful thinking, "I'm gonna go check on them..."

"Them? Sophia is down as well?"

"I think so," he rubbed a hand over his face, "she had a fever, but wasn't puking like Liv."

"Do you need any help?" Wendy sounded concerned, "Vince, if you're sick-"

"I'm not sick," he insisted, "and you're at your job and four hours away. Relax, I can handle my sisters, I've done it a bunch of times before," granted he never had both of them sick at the same time.

"Alright... Call me later, I'm not gonna go home until 6:30," Wendy sent him a kiss and he promised her that he would, before mumbling an i-love-you and hanging up.

Livia's fever had climbed to 101.9, that he didn't like one bit, so Vince was back to crouching down next to her bed, shaking her awake. This time, he was prepared, with a bucket in his free hand and had left a bunch of towels on her bedside table as well.

His baby sister whined and tried to roll away, so he shook her once more, "Liv," he brushed the dark curls away from her face, "Livia, wake up..."

As soon as she did, her eyes welled up with tears and he sighed, "hey... Shh, baby, I'm here. What's wrong?"

"I want mamma," Livia pouted, her voice all hoarse, causing Vince's heart to squeeze.

"i know, I'm sorry," he pulled her into a hug, "I'm sorry."

She sniffled pitifully against his neck, pressing her overheated forehead to his shoulder, "my head hurts..."

"I got you some meds," Vince peeled her off gently, "can you take them? How's your tummy?"

"Hurts too," her bottom lip was trembling, dangerously close to tears, "I don't like this..."

"It's gonna be over soon," he pressed a kiss to her brow, grabbing the children's syrup and a spoon, "just one big gulp and you can go back to sleep, alright?"

"Okay," she made a face at the medicine, but took it without much whining and Vince helped her lie back down, freezing as she gagged and burped at the taste, but nothing came back up.

"Vinny," Livia pouted, "cuddle?"

"Cuddle," he agreed, smiling at her, "I just gotta check on Soph first, bambi."

"Sophie's sick?"

"Yeah," he fluffed Livia's blankets, "bucket is right here, okay? I'm gonna be back soon."

"Okay," she curled up, but simply shut her eyes, seeming ready to sleep once again. He left her door open, then walked to Sophia's bedroom.

Unlike Livia, who was a perfect doll, Sophia had kicked out all blankets and was currently sitting up against the headboard, the bucket on her lap as she drooled.

Vince grimaced, his own stomach flipping, "Aw, Soph," he crossed the room and sat on the edge of her bed, gathering her long light brown hair into a ponytail, "so much for the medicine..."

"M'sorry," Sophia slurred, spitting in the bucket and curling up as much as she could, "I don't- My stomach-"

"I know, kiddo," Vince rubbed her back with the hand that wasn't holding her hair away from her mouth. He glanced past her shoulder and immediately regretted it. She had been sick already, an awful congealed mess was inside the bucket and his own stomach flipped at the sight. Vin turned his head, breathing through the nausea that was causing goosebumps to tickle at his skin and his mouth to taste weird.

Under his hold, Sophia convulsed and puked again. She was panting erratically now and Vince remembered his sister didn't do well with vomiting. She got sympathy nausea when others were sick and got really nervous when it was herself.

"Hey," he cupped her forehead with a hand, "hey, bambi, slow down. You're just gonna make yourself si-" she gagged and brought up another mouthful of acid and beer, letting out a pitiful whine.

"You're okay, I got you," Vince sighed, swallowing down the knot in his throat, "c'mon, one big burp, baby. Get it over with."

Sophia nodded, gulping down air and forcing up a burp that was deep and sickly, "God," she mumbled, spitting inside the bucket and belching again, "I feel gross..."

Vince patted her back like a baby's and it forced up another burp, that switched into a retch halfway through and Sophia buried her face back in the bucket, this time bringing up a powerful wave of vomit.

She started crying, still leaning over the bucket, words slurring into a pathetic chanting. Vince turned his head, moving his hand from her forehead to muffle a burp against his fist and gulping down when it brought with it a splash of puke.

Sophia let out a groan, "Vin..." she pulled back, "Vin, I don't- I don't feel well..." she straightened up fully, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, manners be damned and hyperventilating.

"It's the flu, bambi," Vince reassured her, "you're going to feel better by tomorrow, I promise-"

"No, I-" she squeezed her eyes shut, pushing the bucket in his arms and clearly trying to get up. She had a hand protectively on her belly and Vince grimaced as he realized why she was getting all frantic, "fuck, I- fuck-"

"Okay, c'mere," he planted the half full bucket on the ground, before jumping up and grabbing her by the elbow, "don't shit your pants, I got you."

"I'm- I-" she was getting all worked up and Vince cringed in worry and sympathy, "Vin-" Sophia never quite finished whatever she was going to say, because her belly let out a loud, upset gurgle and she folded in half, chest hiccupping as she brought up a mouthful of puke all over Vince's toes, her shirt and the hallway floor.

Vince jumped at that, his backburner nausea becoming pressing and urgent, causing him to clam a hand over his lips and close his eyes to avoid looking at the mess. Normally he was really good dealing with accidents, but tonight... The sensation of the liquid against his skin was more than enough to cause him to retch.

Next to him, Sophia grounded him quickly by letting out a sob. She curled up, hair getting in the way, and still hugging her belly fiercely, "M'sorry-Vin-" there was a desperate edge to her voice, and he wasn't sure if it was because of her normal reaction to puking or because she was about to mess herself up even more.

"I got you," his voice was a whole note deeper with queasiness, words sticking together, and Vince clammed his mouth shut, wrapping an arm around his sister's waist and all but dragging her to the bathroom she shared with Liv.

She was still crying, but conscious enough to shove him off the bathroom as soon as they were inside. Slamming the door on his face.

Vince wasn't offended, if anything he was relieved, as he sprinted down the hall himself and barely made it in time back to his suite, gagging over the sink.

The first retch left him breathless and deaf, but brought up nothing. However, the second one was accompanied by his stomach churning and Vince nearly projectile vomited inside the sink.

He opened the register to wash off the mess, trying not to think of the puke clinging to his toes or the clammy sensation all over him, or the way his lower belly apparently wanted to join in the mess by the fierce gurgling inside...

Vince collapsed sitting down in his toilet, grabbing the trash bin in order to puke at the same time his intestines emptied out once more, sending painful cramps that made him feel all jittery.

He wasn't sure how long it was until he felt wrung dry, head pounding from all the heaving, but he knew he couldn't let himself fall in bed like his body wanted to. There was a mess down the hallway that needed cleaning and Sophia who needed tending and Livia was still sporting a high fever...

Hell, did he have a fever?

Vince took a quick shower once again, spending most of it gagging fruitlessly over the drain, before forcing himself to keep going. Wiping down the puke from the wooden floors was a bigger challenge than he expected and he ended up dry heaving over the bucket half filled with water twice.

Just as he finished cleaning, he heard the bathroom door opening with a creak and Sophia's little voice, English lost as she had completely switched to Italian, "Vin?"

"Yeah?" He cleared his throat, trying to sound normal, "are you okay? Do you need help?"

"Can- Can you get me new pjs...?"

"Yeah, of course," he stood up from the ground with a grunt, wrapping an arm around his stomach and walking back to her room like an elderly man.

He was barely paying any attention as he grabbed a mismatched set of PJs from her first drawer, then stumbled back to the bathroom door and knocked, "Soph?"

"Just a second..." she sounded weak and it gave him a renewed strength to stand up straight. There'd be time to collapse later.

A minute later the door opened and his sister took the PJs, before shutting it again. She was wrapped in a towel, trembling like a leaf, her wet hair falling limply next to her face.

He heard shuffling around, then her retching once more and groaning, "oh no..."

"Soph?"

"Just a- Just a sec!" She yelled and Vince leaned against the door, trying to focus on her and not the fact his own nausea was building once more.

A minute later she opened the door, clad in her new PJs and grimacing as she saw the abandoned bucket near her door, "I'm really sorry about the mess..."

"It's okay," Vince breathed in, inspecting her, "how are you feeling?"

"Really dizzy," Sophia leaned against his side, uncharacteristically touchy and clingy. He hugged her closer and was about to guide her back to bed and go retrieve the thermometer, when Livia poked her head out of her bedroom.

"Vinny?"

Vince and Sophia both turned around, just as the little girl wrapped her arms around her belly, "I don't feel good..."

"God, don't puke now, please-" Sophia whined and Vince shot her a glare, crossing the hallway to scoop up his seven year old sister.

"That's alright, baby, let's get you to the bathroom..." he could feel the uncomfortable gurgling inside her tummy, pressed against his chest and Vince nearly gagged himself at the prospect of cleaning up more sick tonight, "Sophia, get in bed and take your temp, please. And some tylenol, it's all in Liv's bedroom."

"Uhmmmkay..." Sophia stumbled forward, then braced against the wall, breathing deeply, her skin deteriorating to translucent white. Vince stopped walking, only for Liv to let out a groan herself.

"Vinny-" there was an urgency in her voice and he wasn't sure who to even care to first. Sophia looked like she was going to collapse, but he decided he'd rather clean up puke than diarrhea as Livia's tummy let out another upset growl.

He sped up, planting her on the toilet just in time and grabbing the waste basket, holding it under her chin just as the kid's body decided to vacate of everything she had ever eaten.

Vince steadied her with one hand, the other one he pressed over his own mouth and nose and tried not to end up puking on his little sister's lap, since that would be a major dick move.

After what felt like an eternity, Livia stopped sobbing and vomiting and having the runs, so he flushed twice and closed the bin, putting it as far away as he could, "stay sit," he asked in a thick, nauseous voice, then leaned over the girl's sink and heaved himself.

Next to him he heard Livia let out a scared cry and Vince waved in her direction, grumbling between burps, "I'm okay- I'm alright..."

Vince coughed another splash of stomach acid, then washed the sink and his mouth, meeting his own gaze in the mirror. He looked a mess, "alright, baby, can you step in the shower, please?" he opened the warm water, "just wash up a bit, okay? I'll get you some PJs..." and check on Sophia. He was praying she hadn't puked in the hallway again.

"I- I- Are we dying?!" Livia sobbed, scared, and Vince had to force himself not to eyeroll. He kissed the top of her head, stripping her of her shirt — she had sweat through the fresh set of clothes — and grabbing her by the armpits, forcing her under the spray, nudity and water be damned.

"No, we're not dying, bambi," Vince stumbled slightly, shutting the toilet and handing Livia the soap bar, "wash up, okay? I'll be back in a minute. Sit down on the ground if you get dizzy, promise me."

"Okay," she was still crying and he hated that he had to step out of the bathroom, but those thoughts all but flew out of the window as he did and found Sophia curled up on the ground.

"Sophia!" He skipped to his knees, patting her cheeks, "Soph. Soph, open your eyes-" she was burning up, "Sophia, don't do this to me, open your eyes," Vince all but shook her like a rattle toy and his sister finally opened her eyes, dazed and in pain.

"Stop... Dizzy..." She slurred, letting her head fall forward, lolling like a broken doll. Vince cursed, throwing her arm around his neck and getting up, pulling her to his arms bridal style.

"Fucking hell," he cursed darkly, carrying her to bed and then running to Livia's room to grab the first aid kit, as well as the abandoned towels. He returned to the bathroom to wet them with cold water, only to remember about Liv...

"C-cold-" her teeth shattered and Vince grabbed her abandoned robe in one of the hooks, crouching down inside the shower area.

"C'mere, bambi, get your arms in- There you go, good girl," he kissed her temple, tying up the robe and picking her up like a toddler, "hold on to me, we'll go to bed in a second, let's just get this to Soph first..."

Livia yawned against his neck, still trembling and he wasn't entirely sure if he her fever had broken or his had risen to her level, because she felt cold to him.

He wet the towels, then walked back to Sophia's bedroom, sitting on the corner of the bed and starting to wipe his sister's face with the cold wet towels, sticking the baby thermometer in her ear, age be damned.

103ºF, fuck.

"Sophia," Vince shook her vehemently, "Sophia, wake up, I need you to take meds. C'mon, wake up," he dragged her half sitting up and his sister turned her face away with a groan as he pressed the pills to her lips, but Vince was scared and angry thanks to the panic cursing through him, "no, no drama. Drink up."

"Vin..." Sophia whined, opening her eyes, "please, don't- I don't feel well..."

His own eyes burned, he hated forcing them to do anything. He swallowed against the knot in his throat, "Soph, either you take the meds or we're going to the hospital," he said strongly.

The threat worked, because she opened her lips and swallowed the small pill, but it worked too well, since it caused Livia to pull back from her tight hug against his neck, horrified.

"Spital!?"

"Not you, bambi," Vince pressed the heel of his hand to his eyes, trying to rub his killer headache away. Wendy would be cursing him for not drinking any water. Had any of them been drinking water? He was a big guy, he could handle it, but Livia was tiny and Sophia was always on some bullshit diet, definitely prone to dehydration.

"Is Sophie dying?!"

"No one is dying," Vince groaned, pulling back so he could glare at Livia, "no one, you hear me? We just have a belly bug, it'll pass by tomorrow... I need you to drink some juice for me, Liv."

Her little face scrunched up in disgust as he picked up the abandoned Gatorade bottle on Sophia's bedside table, his teenage sister lying passed out between them, "I don't wanna..."

"I'm sorry, but you have to," he broke the seal and held it to her, "just one little gulp. C'mon."

It was with a lot of effort that he managed to get Livia to take two full gulps of it, then with even more so to have Sophia semiconscious enough to drink. He took a large gulp himself, despite it triggering his gag reflex, then yawned.

"Let's get you in bed, Liv," Vince stumbled up, holding his sister by the hand. She looked ready to fall asleep right there, in her robe, on top of Sophia.

They went through the third set of PJs of the night and finally Vince managed to tuck her in bed, dizzily trying to hold the thermometer to her ear. He lost it so many times that his little sister let out an annoyed groan and held it there herself, until they heard a beep.

101.2 Fº .... Was this good? Higher? Lower? He wasn't sure anymore.

Vince frowned, struggling to think, "did you take meds...?"

She nodded and Vince squinted at Livia, unsure if he believed her or not. Had it been before or after she threw up again. Could she take them again?

She yawned and Vince decided against the meds for now, hoping he was taking the right decision. He pressed a kiss to her brow, "I'm gonna be in Soph's room, okay? All lights are on."

"Okay," Livia was sleepy enough she didn't have any energy to ask him to stay.

It was a struggle to return to Sophia's bedroom. The hallway was spinning and he vaguely noticed he still needed to empty out the trashcan from both his and the girl's bathroom and get rid of the bucket filled with dirty water in the hallway...

Sophia's face was red thanks to the fever and Vince almost fell over her as he crouched next to her bed. She looked really warm, but when he pressed his hand to her forehead, she didn't feel all that warm. Her room was freezing.

Vince collapsed on her office chair, near her little study station and stretched out, planting a hand over his own unsettled stomach and trying to rub it. He still felt overstuffed and gross, even though he was more than empty. That one Gatorade gulp was sitting inside like a brick.

Vince dizzily fished out his phone from his sweatpants' pocket — had he gotten it wet? — then set up an alarm for 6 AM. He frowned at the hour, 4:40 AM.

He just hoped he felt better in two hours, otherwise they were doomed.

#mywriting #sickfic #emetophilia #emeto #stomach flu #vince monacelli #sophia monacelli

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