#can you really blame the fans for reacting that way
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
just-some-random-blogger · 12 hours ago
Text
Tormented Spirit | 7
Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."
Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, smut (cunnilingus, piv, choking, degradation, slight sadism), DD:DNE, panic/anxiety attacks, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.
A/N: again the high valyrian is internet translated so lol. please consider leaving comments/reblogs because they really help me with the fic. might make another poll for next chapter stay tuned. | cross posted on ao3
@arabellasleopardcoat
Tumblr media
Taking you to the hidden stream was simultaneously the best and worst decision Erryk's ever made in his life. The look of you was holy. His intense focus on your form was to ensure your safety, but, by the gods, it felt sinful to behold your dark hair and light fabric ebbing in the water.
He had hoped a swim would lift your spirits, just as flower picking did, but he did not know it would draw such a tempest out of you. It was as though you were reborn. You plunged into the water and shed all your inhibitions. Your voice became brighter, as did your eyes. You were flooded with more than a dozen memories of you and your twin swimming in the river near your home in Oldtown, and you recounted all of them so excitedly to Erryk.
"Oh!' you exclaim, flipping in the water to get to your feet. You point to something behind your ward, making him turn around. In that split second, you hold in your laughter and grab something from the mossy rocks. Innocently, you say, "that reminds me of something."
Erryk turns back to you, brows knit in confusion. When you you make your way towards him, he clenches his jaw and averts his gaze. The shift you were swimming in was stuck flush on your body, leaving little to his imagination. He was glad to have the foresight to bring you a change of clothes and a towel, and, my, was the pattern on the said towel so very interesting.
"What is a frogs favorite game?" you ask so suddenly.
Erryk turns to you, brows furrowing, "pardon?"
"Tell me the frogs' favorite game, ser," you repeat as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Frogs favored game?" he repeats slowly, realizing now that your expression was mockingly innocent. He hums, "I cannot say I-"
"HOPSCOTCH!"
A frog comes leaping into Erryk's face, nearly causing him to topple as he dodges it. He's so flabbergasted by the turn of events, he calls out your name in offence. He is doubly offended by your laughter. His eyes go wide as you hunch forward, leaning on your knees.
"Villain," your ward mutters, scoffing far too many times.
You can barely catch your breath. You fan your face, "frog-ive me."
Erryk's face only contorts further.
"I could not-" you gasp for air, "could not help it."
In truth, if it was any other who did such a childish thing, he'd have shoved them in the water. Alas, you appeared only more beauteous as you made him a fool.
"Forgive me," you repeat in more serious manner, "Gwayne used to scare me this way often. I wished only to know how it felt, and now..." you giggle, "I can't say I blame my brother for constantly pulling tricks on me."
He huffs and shakes his head, "well. I'm glad to have pleased you, my ever-so-kind princess."
You offer him a guilty smile, "apologies."
Erryk shakes his head, "no. Truly. I am glad to see you in such a state."
You fidget with your fingers as a shiver runs down your spine.
He is quick to unravel your towel. He places it on your shoulders, "perhaps we should go back. The sunset is nigh."
You nod, taking your change of clothes from him next.
He turns around offering you your privacy. It takes a while, but you manage to dress yourself. Once you had your shoes on, you dry your hair with your towel and take his arm, "would you please lace up my dress?"
He nods, avoiding your gaze as he feels his face burn. He quickly laces you up then you return to the Keep.
You both had been laughing, up until you made it past the castle gates, promptly being silenced by the loud shout, "PRINCESS!"
Arryk runs over, charging for his brother. Their steel plates collide as Arryk yanks his twin, "where in gods name did you take her?"
Erryk furrows his brows, "we visited a stream-"
"The Keep is in disarray!" Arryk grits his teeth, hissing under his breath, "everyone's looking for her. Everyone."
You watch the twins huddle close and bicker. As it escalates, you try try to come between them, "Arryk. I was the one who asked him to take me outside the keep."
Arryk does not hear you at first, dead set on arguing with his twin. When you repeat your words the second time however, he turns to you, face softening a fraction. He knits his brows turning back to this brother, whispering something that makes Erryk turn to you with wide eyes, "fuck."
"Why?" you look at them in concern, "what it is?"
Arryk opens his mouth, but Erryk grabs his arm and says, "wait."
"There's no other way to say it," Arryk snaps, ripping his arm out his grip.
"Say what?" you knit your brows.
Arryk turns back to you, then lowers his gaze, "the queen... the queen has passed."
Your jaw drops. Your eyes widen. Your hand immediately covers your mouth. The three of you do not speak for a prolonged moment.
You feel your stomach roll, "w-what happened?"
"She could not deliver the babe herself. The maesters... had to intervene."
Intervene? You could not possibly understand what that could mean, and you find that you do not want to. You shake your head, "and her babe? Is- is her babe well at least?"
Arryk clenches his jaw, "she sired a prince named Baelon... he apparently grows weaker by the hour."
You feel bile rise up your throat.
"Your father and your siblings have been looking for you since news broke."
You shake your head, and gather your skirts.
"As has the prince."
Your face twitches at the thought. You do not delay and make your way inside the Keep.
As you tread the halls, you think about what the queen told you just mere hours ago. There is a sharp twinge in your belly as simultaneously remember how Aemma told you to go cheer for Daemon at the tourney and realize you will never hear a word from her ever again. The thought washes over you like water on the beach, sobering but thankfully not overwhelming.
You hadn't realized you had your head bowed until you hear your name called. You still as you look up, the twins halt behind you.
Otto marches over, brows and jaw tight as ever, "where in gods name have you been?"
You straighten your back as he stops before you, "I-"
"Your wards are double," he turns to the kingsguards, "and doubly useless, it seems."
"Father," you step into his line of sight, "do relieve your rage on them."
Your father turns back to you, expression softening a fraction at your referral. You had not called him father since your argument in the maester's office. He looks at you— takes a good look at you and your sad eyes, your knit brows, your frowning lips. Your hair was darker than it was normally, and as he reaches out for it, he found it was, in fact, damp, "where have you been?"
"I..." you gulp and take a deep breath, "went swimming."
He releases your hair, tilting his head, "with whom? Gwayne has gone."
You pull your head back, "G-Gwayne's gone?"
"The tourney is over. The road is long. He has no reason to stay," Otto says.
Your brows tighten as you shake your head, "he... he didn't... wait for me?"
Otto watches your lips quiver. He watches your nose twitch. When your chest begins to visibly rise and fall, he shakes his head, "what did I tell you?"
You stare blankly at him.
He takes your hands, "what is it I always tell you?"
You clench your jaw and huff through your nostrils, "do not waste your tears on things you cannot change."
Otto rubs your knuckles as he shakes his head again. He gives the Cargyll brothers a look before walking off with you. They make sure to keep their distance before following after.
You turn to your father as he links your arm into his. You are certain, with how he cannot look at you, that he means to tell you something grave. You look front and mimic his demeanor— distant, cold. You are his daughter, face and temperance.
"You enjoyed your swim at least?" he starts, "you are calm?"
You gulp, mentally preparing yourself for what will surely come next. Your voice still falters though, "ye-s."
Otto nods, still not turning to you, "many has occurred since your marriage to Daemon. You admitted you did not consummate your marriage on your wedding night and I was deeply concerned you would fail your duties in producing heirs, especially if your husband was not interested in you."
Your jaw clenches.
"But with the apparent... change of heart your husband has shown, you should know I've had the maesters closely monitor your state."
You knit your brows at that, "you mean my affliction?"
He speaks your name slowly before continuing, "as of yesterday, they have confirmed to me that you are with child."
You whip your head to him and pull away.
Otto does not look at you with the same sense of urgency.
"W-what?"
He sees the fear on your features. He offers a solemn expression and takes your cheeks when your eyes water, "this is good. You should delight, not tremble."
You try to speak but nothing coherent comes out.
"The Queen is dead. Go to your husband and comfort him with this news."
Your mouth goes dry and your father wipes the tears that fall from your eyes. He your name softly. Your sad face looks the exact same it did when his wife died. My baby is having a baby. He frowns and pulls away.
You try to take his hand, but he slips away.
"See her off," the Hand instructs your wards.
Erryk is quick to go to your side, whereas Arryk stares at the back of Otto's head, his lips curling as he did.
"Princess," Erryk says, cautiously reaching your arm.
You turn to him with wide eyes before scratching your tears away, "I-"
"Perhaps you should sit down first."
You pull away from him before he can touch you. The action makes Erryk pull back, an unsavory sensation spreading in his mouth and belly.
"I want to- I—" you take a breath, "I need to find-" you shake your head and begin speeding down the hall.
You were nearly about to break into a sprint, and your wards had to jog up to your side to keep up with you. You don't really know where you're going, but you're getting there, fast.
"Princess, please, slow down," one says.
You can feel your breath and your pulse in your ears.
"Princess."
You find yourself in the halls near one of the gate of the keep. The only reason why you stop is because you hear the voice of your twin. Your breath catches as you lurch towards the window. Gwayne was laughing with one of the guards, already on his horse. Your brows furrow, he couldn't possibly be well enough to be riding on horseback.
You realize quickly this is your last opportunity to go be with your brother, to pull him into an embrace, to worry on him, to tell him your worries, to kiss him goodbye. You know you have to act now and swiftly, but you cannot seem to move.
Your mind is heavy as you think about how your brother is set to leave regardless of your desire to keep close; he said it himself, his place can never be at your side. Though he is the only person who've ever relied on, you know now— you rub your belly, that can no longer be the case. There is only one person you can rely on now... yourself.
It is painful to pull away from the window, but you do, clenching your hands into fists before walking away.
You don't really walk away however, because then, you're frozen in place at the sight of your husband standing a few paces away from you, "Daemon."
He stares at you wordlessly.
You walk towards him, careful as you drag your feet.
He tilts his head and clenches his jaw, "he's leaving any moment now."
You nod, "I know."
"Go to him," he says softly.
"I-"
"Go to him!" he snaps.
You stiffen at his expression. You were adept with anger but he did not look angry. You stop in your tracks, trying to make sense of his restless figure.
Daemon watches you fidget with your fingers.
"If it is your command, I shall obey."
He chuckles dryly, pacing around his spot. He wipes his mouth then charges over, stopping just in front of you. He scoffs when you do not flinch, in disbelief of your constitution. His nostrils flare, "you know my feelings towards your twin."
You slowly shrug, "then you'll be glad to know I came looking for you."
Daemon does not move.
"You know how I feel about my brother..." you mutter, "but..." you lower your gaze, "I'm coming to terms with the fact I can no longer rely on him... it will be better this way."
It takes a moment, but Daemon chuckles. When you look up and his smirk fades. Your beady eyes make it hard to find satisfaction. "So, you will not go to him?" he asks.
You stare.
"You do not want to go to him?"
Your lips part.
He raises his brows.
"I... I do."
Anger rises up his belly, but as if on cue, the sound of horses and carriages moving is heard. You clench your jaw and lower you gaze to prevent yourself from looking back at the window. The prince cannot seem to win, for he should be pleased you did not see your brother off, and yet your sadness leaves sour jealousy in his mouth— he was your husband.
The Cargyll twins look upon you both, appalled by the cruelty of the prince to keep you here as Gwayne leaves for good. Erryk in particular feels restless, unable to stop shifting and fidgeting with his scabbard.
"Shall... shall we go?" you mutter, slowly looking up.
Daemon watches you place a hand on his bicep. He responds only by following you after giving your wards a dismissive look.
The brothers turn to each other, each as unwilling as the other to leave you, but they do anyway.
Daemon is acutely aware of the warmth of your cheek against his arm as you tread down the halls. When, you arrive at your marriage chambers, Daemon opens the door and you notice the bandage wrapped around his hand. He struggles because of this. Once you're inside, you take his arm, eyes trained on his injury, "what happened to your hand?"
Daemon's eyes are fixed on the line between your brows.
"Did you break it?" you turn to him with furrowed eyes.
He pulls away slowly. He wants to know what you'd do next.
"Did you wrap it yourself? It's badly done."
He faintly snorts, "it's on my right hand."
"I'll do it for you," you say, walking towards the vanity.
Daemon follows, watching you procure scissors and vials and other things. You turn to him, motioning to the chair. He sits down, gaze fixed upon you as you take his arm again.
Your eyes are focused on undoing his wrap, "tell me if it hurts,"
His are fixed on your focused expression, "you should sit down."
"I'm fine."
"I want you to sit down," he uses his other hand to grab your wrist.
You stop and turn to him. You turn to the chair across the room but Daemon prevents you from doing so and simply spreads legs, pulling you between his thighs. Quickly, you are sat on his lap and tense look at him. He offers you his injured hand again as his other goes around you, clinging to your hip. He pulls you in, leaning his head against yours to say, "it's a cut, by the way."
You furrow your brows at his admission. You allow yourself a moment to relax before continuing your task. You find it is, in fact, a cut, deep and ugly, "did your lance splinter very badly?"
"No."
You furrow your brows deeper as you turn to him,
"This is glass."
"Glass?" you brow raise, "how did you hurt your hand with glass?"
Daemon licks his lips as he looks at yours. He shrugs, "I broke a bottle."
You pull your head back, "on accident?"
"On purpose," he tilts his head.
You huff and start cleaning his wound, "was the violence in the tourney insufficient?"
He chuckles through his nostrils, "I did not fucking win."
You smear balm on his wound. You do not reply.
It makes him clench his jaw, "and you..."
"..."
"You were not there."
You do not tear your gaze from his injury.
He grumbles, "did you even hear me?"
You lift your gaze then raise brow at him, "you did not want me there. Do you not recall how you cursed at me?"
Your gall makes anger rise up his throat.
You continue wrapping up his hand.
"Well, you were being a bitch," he snaps.
"Why?"
His brows furrow.
"Why was I being a bitch?"
"..."
You spare him a quick glace.
He pulls his head back, "... what?"
"Did I not do my duty?" you turn to him, face blank, "I followed you, congratulated you, inquired of your injuries. I submitted to your desires. Where did I err?" You ask in earnest, "what do you want from me?"
His face contorts. Now that he was faced with such an opportunity, he finds himself unable to speak. What did he want from you?
You wait for him to reply. You prepare yourself for preposterous requirements but you are met only his silence. In that moment, you remember he was just a man. Many a man enjoyed making women suffer. You gulp, thinking about your father.
Perhaps your father was lying. Perhaps he wants you to believe you are with child to get even. After all, Daemon never... finished in you. How then could you be with child?
You secure the binding on his hand, "it is finished."
Daemon does not bother looking at his hand.
"How do you feel?"
He feels a strong urge to shake you... to pull you close.
"My deepest sympathies for the death of your cousin."
He freezes. Right. The queen was dead. He lowers his gaze.
You frown and reach for his cheek. You second guess however and bring your palm to his shoulder instead, "I am here for you, my prince."
His eyes meet yours.
"I am here to care and comfort you."
He leans back, taken by the thought.
You drink in his demeanor, the softness in his eyes, the tension that falls of his shoulders. You release a breath, "if that is what you desire, speak plainly, and do not repel me. Do not ask me to leave if, in fact, you want me to stay."
His throat tightens. He feels like he is ensnared in a bear trap. He rips at his collar, "I... I have other injuries." He pushes you off and paces around as he undoes his top. It is a struggle for him, but he cannot stop or stay still, "cuts and bruises."
You watch as he fidgets and slowly walk over.
"I don't-"
"Daemon."
He stills.
You come in front of him and undo his top yourself. You drop it mindlessly, and once he is bare, he feels conscious under your scrutiny for some reason. You brush your fingers on his ribs, making goosebumps form on his skin. He can't say that that has ever happened to him before. You notice and rub his arms, eyes locked on his torso.
He feels himself getting hard.
"Did you tend to these yourself as well?" you brush over a cut on his hip.
Oh. You were still examining him. He only hums in response.
You frown, "did no maester come to your tent?"
"I..." he starts.
You circle around him, inspecting for other injuries.
"...wanted you to come to my tent."
You come to his side. He finds the frown on your face. You take a moment before saying, "you tended to your wounds well at least."
"I want you."
You nod, "I will tend to you—"
Daemon takes your nape, lowering his head to kiss your lips. It takes a moment for you to relax, and his belly burns at the sound you make when you do. Your hands come to his sides and your nails graze faintly into his flesh.
He pushes you back until your laid on the bed beneath him. His kisses trail down your skin as he works to get you naked. He kisses your shoulder, then your sternum. He makes sure to lick your breast and leave a mark on your rib before peppering kisses down your belly.
Your breath grows heavy when he lingers by your womb, sucking kisses on your skin. Your throat tightens think of your father's words again. It makes you tense, and Daemon feels it. Of course, he doesn't know about your conversation with Otto, and thinks your tension comes from your self-consciousness.
You lift your head, pulling a pillow beneath it, and look down at your husband. You reach for him, tangling your fingers in his silver hair, "Daemon."
He hums, nipping your flesh in response.
You try to sit up, "D-Daemon, I-"
He shushes you, pushing down on your hip bone. He looks up at you, muttering something in High Valyrian.
"Please, Daemon, wait-"
"Be still," he says, violet eyes hooded, "do I not take care of you?"
Your breath hitches as he sinks down.
"Do you not enjoy my mouth?"
"I- that's not-"
"Do you or do you not?"
"I... I do—"
You are not able to speak after he buries his face between your thighs. You are reduced to breathy cries and a twisting spine. Daemon, though he continues to hold you down, relishes every second of it and feasts more ardently. He sighs, securing your thighs on his shoulders, nudging his face deeper into you, his nose brushing against your pearl.
He relishes how quickly your wetness builds, and soon, he feels your arousal dribbling down his chin. He moans, nails biting crescent moons into your skin. Your belly rises and falls in sync with the crescendo of your mewls. At this point, both your hands are tangled into his hair, and your pulling and scratching only further inspires his tongue.
You call out his name, screwing your eyes shut as you throw your head back and arch your body. Quickly, your belly tightens and you sequentially dig your heels into his shoulder blades. He squeezes your thighs enough to make them bruise, and yet the pain is what pushes you into orgasm, garnering a lewd and loud sound from your mouth.
Daemon hums, lifting his face just enough to see yours as he brings you to peak. He moans at your expression, grinding his hips into the cushion, desperate for friction.
Your body trembles, unable to settle as his burning mouth persists on your molten mound. You begin to squeak and he catches the moment you open your eyes to look at him all teary. It drives him mad. With a deep inhale, he pulls away, wiping his chin before he undoes his breeches.
You relax and catch your breath, hands dropping to your sides.
Daemon watches you, your trembling legs glistening with the pleasure he's drawn out. He can feel himself throbbing in his pants. You watch as he hastily frees himself. Though your head was hazy and your body was tried, your belly burned at sight of the sticky liquid dripping down your husband's neck.
"Fuck, Daemon," you reach for his belly. You trace his defined muscles with your finger tips. He snatches your hands when he finally pushes his pants down.
You squeak when he pushes you to your side, one hand on your shoulder, another hiking your leg up by the knee. You whine as he folds you into the sheets just before sliding his hardened cock in your wet cunt.
He hisses, leaning down to your neck. His words are hot against your skin, but you understand nothing.
Whatever tenderness he had before was gone, now he was just fucking you like a rabid animal. Daemon could not help himself, he loved how supple and pliable you were, and twists you into a form that keeps you prone. When the bed begins to creak because of his thrusts, he holds you down where your neck and collarbone meet. He puts enough pressure to restrict your breathing, but not enough to choke out your pretty noises.
At some point, he decides your leg is getting in the way and pushes you flat on your chest. He then gathers you by the hip, hiking you up enough to fuck you nicely from behind.
His thrusts are more intense now. You scream into the cushion as you find your elbows. Before you can prop yourself up though, he's pinning you down by the shoulder, saying something in High Valyrian again.
"D-Daemon," you whine, left cheek smushed against your pillow. You could feel your next climax building quickly.
He responds by rubbing your clit, drawing tears and another scream out of you because of your sensitivity.
You feel yourself helplessly clenching and unclenching around him, absolutely boneless under his vigorous intrusion. You could feel your knees slipping but Daemon's grip on you would not see you move from your position. Your toes curl. Saliva drips out your open mouth.
"Māzigon va, riña," he snorts, "sepār mirrī angotan tolī." Come on, girl. Just a little bit more."
You do not understand, so you only whine out, "Daemon."
Daemon growls and rubs one side of your ass, "you're doing so good for me."
He spanks you, but that's not what makes your eyes open.
"Milk my cock with your tight cunny, come slut."
You begin to grit your teeth.
"I want to see my seed dripping down your thighs," he groans, mind unable to focus on anything but the hot, wet slapping of your skin.
It's unsurprising that you come first, as Daemon always assures you do to underscore his control and dominance over you. He yelps out a sharp fuck, nearly coming in your cunt because of how your body seizes up around him. Your orgasm overwhelming, yet your eyes water for more than this reason. His words make you aware your husband sees you nothing more as a vessel for pleasure, and your pleasure is regretfully cut short because of how sharply he pulls out, his load spraying on your already dripping labia and pubic hair.
He strokes himself a few times, feeling his cock twitch in his hand as he watches your mixed come trickle down your legs. He sighs, "fuck," then scoops the cream in two fingers, plunging it in and out your still spasming cunt.
You squeal when he finger fucks you, body unable to remain upright. You are grateful he loses interest rather quickly and crumble into the bed as he stands.
You watch him walk over to the drawer, where he then pours himself some wine. You gulp, remembering your dream from last night. It sobers you out your high. You clench your jaw and roll over to clean yourself up. You head to your vanity and wipe yourself down, grabbing your robe was you do.
Daemon, whose thirst was now quenched, turns back to you with a towel. He is confused to see you standing. He watches you flip your hair behind you, pulling it out of your robe, which you then secure around yourself. He knits his brows as he walks over, "what are you doing?"
You turn to him, sitting on the vanity chair, "getting ready for bed."
Daemon stares, and you take his prolonged silence as an indication to proceed with your nightly routine.
The prince squeezes the damp towel in his hand as he watches you brush your hair. You catch his stillness from the mirror and turn back to him, "oh."
You drop your brush and take the towel from him, "I'll help you clean up."
Normally, he enjoyed this, but right now, he can't. He is offended when you begin to pick up his clothes, so much that he scoffs, "the fuck are you doing?"
You halt midway picking up his trousers. You stand and turn to the closet, "ah. Did you want new clothes?"
He pulls his head back, no longer offended, but hurt, "you want me to leave?"
You are caught off guard by his question. You stare at him for a moment, unsure if he was serious. You could not identify his expression, so you did not know if you tell him the truth. You would not survive being berated after confessing you wanted to sleep with him. You dodge the answer altogether, "weren't you leaving anyway?"
Daemon's cheeks tense. He huffs, stepping forward, yanking his clothes out of your hands, "no."
You are bewildered by his actions, for to you, his actions are sudden. You are petrified in fear, which is why you instinctively begin to apologize, "f-forgive me, I-I-"
His nostrils flare and his jaw sets.
"I-" you motion with a hand, "- you always leave."
His clenches his jaw, "do you want me to leave?"
"I—" your throat tightens and soon you can no longer look at him. You want to beg him to stay, but you recall how you did that with your father, and your mother, and your brother— begging does not make people stay. You whisper, "I... I'm terrified."
When you lift your gaze, Daemon shirks and decided to dress. He gulps as he pulls his trousers up, turning back to you. He clenches his fist before reaching out for you.
Your heart races as he takes your hand.
"You've served me well. If you are terrified... I'll leave you."
You whimper when he pulls away, holding him tighter than he did before your hands part. Your lips quiver. He knits his brows. You shake your head, "I- I... I do not want you to go."
He is taken off guard by how you suddenly embrace him.
"Please," you beg, though you knew it would not serve you well, "stay."
He turned to stone. He cannot seem to move at all but your arms are determined to stay around him. You begin to weep against his skin and he can feel your breath grow ragged. Only then does he manage to return your affection.
He brushes your dark hair away from your face and cradles you against him.
"Daemon."
He leans into you, enough to be able to brush his cheek against yours, "kesan umbagon." I will stay.
You sniffle then sigh. After a while, you ask, "what does that mean?"
"I will stay."
You sigh again, pulling away to look at him. You offer him a sad smile, "thank you."
He frowns, wiping your tears.
When you go back to bed, you offer him space in case you've made him uncomfortable. He stares at you, awaiting your embrace. You are mere inches apart but it feels like yards and yards.
"Good night, husband," you say before turning over.
He chuckles dryly, staring at your dark hair. He turns to the ceiling, "good night."
116 notes · View notes
reminiscingtonight · 4 months ago
Text
Imaginary (Girl)Friend
Leah Williamson x Reader
Word Count: 1.3k
[WOSO Masterlist]
You never talk about Leah. 
She’s your best friend, your better half, the first person you think to tell anything to. But you still never talk about Leah. 
You don’t talk about the fact that the two of you grew up together. Or that she prefers the crust cut off her plain ham sandwiches. Or how she stays up late just to call you even after playing a late night game away from home. 
You never talk about Leah because no one knew who she was. To you, she’s the most amazing person you know, the only person you��ll ever give your heart to. To everyone else, she’s simply another nameless face on another football team. 
And then the Euros happened.
The Euros happened, England won, and everyone started noticing Leah.
It’s hard at first. To watch your normally shy girlfriend have to shoulder the constant attention from both fans and media alike, to go from unknown to stopped every five seconds for a picture. Where Leah once held your hand while strolling on Sunday walks now became group outlettings lest you manage to secure an indoor date somewhere secluded.
Leah didn’t want you being dragged to national attention with her, and after watching the toll it took on her, you meekly agreed. While Leah became a professional footballer, you went to college, got a job, and now work a normal 9 to 5. Being famous for any reason, let alone dating someone famous, was something you never had an interest in.
So no, you don’t talk about Leah the footballer.
Leah the girlfriend however… you talk about her quite too much. 
But your friends always let you gush your heart out about the girl who’s had your heart since you were teenagers.
It’s friends like these that you treasure. They never push too hard, understanding when you skirt around bringing your girlfriend out to public events with large crowds. A couple of them are newer to the group, friends from work, but still respectful all the same.
Some of you even formed a recreational futsal team, just something to do after work once a week. It’s fun, getting to use some of those football skills you’ve acquired through your childhood playing on youth teams. 
Today’s one of those days. After wrapping up the last of your paperwork, you all pile into a car and make your way to the community center. 
The first half goes by quickly, not really memorable in any way.  
You’re taking a quick water break during half-time when one of your friends suddenly stiffens. 
“Holy shit.”
You look up to see her eyes widen at a spot over your shoulder. 
“What?” you ask, alarmed, trying to see what she’s looking at. But two hands on your shoulder stops you quickly, jerking you right back to face her.
“Don’t look, but I think a couple of the Lionesses are sitting in the bleachers, watching our game.”
You almost trip ripping yourself out of her grip, doing the exact opposite of what she just said.
Sure enough, you can spot the Three Best Friends huddled near the back of the bleachers, baseball caps and hoodies on as if that combo would actually help someone go incognito.
Almost as if she can feel your gaze, Leah’s face brightens, resting scowl turning into a grin as she waves at you. Before you can so much as react, a hand on your arm spins you back around.
“Oh my god, what are we going to do? I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of the Leah Williamson, Keira Walsh, and Georgia Stanway!”
You snort, gently shaking her hands off. “First off, it’s just rec futsal. If we lose it’s nothing that life ending. Also, we can always blame it on the court if we play poorly.”
She doesn’t look convinced, but the whistle from the ref calls before you can convince her some more. 
Taking your spot on the court again, you can’t help but feel a bit giddy. With the constant attention and numerous commitments clogging up your girlfriend’s schedule, it’s been a while since Leah’s come to one of your games. 
And so what if you end up showing off a little bit? Your girlfriend is here watching and you’re only human.
By the time the game ends, your team is up by six, four scored by you.
“God damn, we should try to invite the Lionesses out every week if you’re going to ball out like that when they’re here,” Riley jokingly complains, laughing when you shove her back playfully.
“Speaking of the Lionesses…”
Spinning around you see your girlfriend and her friends starting their descent down to the court. You skip to meet them halfway, ignoring the awestruck looks coming from all around. 
Leah gives you a quick hug before pulling back, mindful of prying eyes. 
“Leah! What are you doing here?”
“Just wanted to surprise my girl,” she mumbles, cheeks burning bright red as she instinctively pulls her cap down tighter on her head. “That’s okay right? I just haven’t seen you play live in a while and I--”
“Of course it’s fine.” Your cheeks are starting to hurt a bit by how wide you’re smiling.
You turn quickly to her two friends by her side. 
“Happy to see you guys too! Thanks for coming out.”
Georgia and Keira exchange devilish grins before each throwing an arm around your shoulders. 
“We would’ve come out to a match sooner if lovergirl over here hadn’t gatekeeped when your games were.”
Keira nods dramatically. “It was like pulling teeth with this one, trying to convince her to let us tag along today. You’d almost think she wanted us to forget she had a girlfriend.”
Leah rolls her eyes at the accusations. “A). I wasn’t gatekeeping. B). It was like pulling teeth today --- you wouldn’t give me a moment of peace until I agreed. And C). If I wanted you to forget I had a girlfriend, we wouldn’t be here having this conversation.”
“Pshh, as if you could make us forget our favorite Milton Keynes native. We’d choose her in the divorce,” Georgia quips, ignoring the eyebrow Leah raises her way.
Before the three of them can get in a shoving match, you suddenly remember your friends that you’ve left behind.
“Wait, let me introduce you guys to my teammates.”
Your friends look shell-shocked, eyes darting between you and the little posse of professional footballers you’ve amassed around you when you return. 
“Guys, this is my girlfriend Leah and her two friends.”
There’s a moment of stunned silence. Then a whispered, “why are you introducing three Lionesses to us as if you have dinner together on the regular?” Riley honestly looks like she’s about to pass out, but you decide to humor her a bit.
“Because I do? Keira and G come down sometimes during breaks, and I do live with Leah. So…” 
Your explanation seems pretty straightforward to you, but if anything, it only makes things more confusing for your friends.  
They exchange looks with each other before Riley cautiously asks, “You were being serious about that?”
It’s your turn to be confused, face scrunching up. “What do you mean?”
“Well you kept talking about your mysterious girlfriend Leah without ever introducing us to her…”
“Or showing us a picture,” another voice adds on, trying to be helpful.
“We just kinda assumed Leah wasn’t real,” Riley finishes off lamely.
You roll your eyes, elbowing your girlfriend when you feel Leah snort next to you.
She recovers quickly, giving your friends a smile. “Well rest assured, the girlfriend is very much real. It’s nice to meet you guys, I’m Leah.”
710 notes · View notes
freyito · 1 year ago
Note
Can you do Smoke and Reptile, sfw, them burying their face in readers boobs, using them as a pillow and how they’d react to reader to reader doing it back to them? You could do somthing suggestive.
I'm curious also, besides Kenshi and Kuai Liang who else are you a fan of?
imma be honest anon, this is such a fire idea. when i was at this a7x concert me and my friend saw a guy with double ds. like. BODACIOUS bro. that was the first thing our eyes went to. he looked like jesus christ brother. he spoke like he had a message from the gods.
anyways. to answer your question. sentimentally i'm very attached to Kitana and Scorpion in general, i played Kitana when mk9 came out (i was 7, my dad let me play mk when i was SEVEN) and my dad played Scorpion and i always got my ass handed to me. but he worked a lot and playing mk9 was the only time we really got together when i was a kid. with mk1, we've been able to play a lot more together and it reminds me of those times, it's really fun. now i win about half the matches we play, but i just don't play Kitana anymore. i really do prefer Kenshi.
I am actually married to Johnny Cage and Kenshi, soooo Also, to be honest, the first characters to draw me into Mk1 were Smoke & Sub-Zero. Hadn't really been a big Sub-Zero fan beforehand, not of Bi-Han or Kuai Liang. So it was fun having that revelation. And Tomas is just super cute, I actually love that he's Czech. We're not the same, but hey, we're atleast both slavic. I dont know why, I just love finding Slavic characters cause more often then not I end up relating to them. Sorry for the monologue, anon. Here's your boob request :P
cw: gn reader cause everyone can have boobs brother, bonus character!, proofread
Tumblr media
"ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴘɪʟʟᴏᴡꜱ" || ᴛᴏᴍᴀꜱ & ꜱʏᴢᴏᴛʜ
Tumblr media
-Tomas Vrbada
Tomas loves nothing more at the end of the day than getting to bury his face in your chest. As long as you two are in private, he'll wiggle his way into you somehow.
Half the time you two have together, he's face down in your chest, it is a regular occurrence and will stay a regular occurrence.
Does he do anything other than that? No. He's planking. He's in love, man, you can't blame him.
So, when you find him laying on the bed that one fateful night, defenseless, you give him the same treatment. You climb onto the bed, and slink your way into his arms.
He reaches out for you absent-mindedly, running his hands through your hair. Then you strike. You plank right into HIS boobs. He hasn't even registered yet. But you understand why he does it to you. Even if you can't breathe, it's somehow euphoric.
Tomas pauses, looks down at you. And his face flushes. You can feel his body temperature rise. He doesn't know how to react, he's been caught in just an inconvenient situaton.
He doesn't complain, though. He's just flustered. Real flustered. He holds you close after he can find his composure, still unsure but grateful of your touch.
Tumblr media
-Syzoth
Syzoth almost always makes a dive for your chest when you two are cuddling. He'll be tangled up with you- quite literally, the man really enjoys being as close as possible- and still find a way to bury his head into your chest.
Doesn't matter how much you dodge out of it, he's going to wrap himself around you and find your chest somehow, someway.
But, he thinks he's free of this torment. He gets to lay his head in your chest, and run off freely. He does it when you two nap, when you cuddle, wherever, whenever.
You find him one night, after a long day and seize your chance. And your boyfriends boobies. Without a second chance you throw yourself at Syzoth, aiming directly for his chest.
You can see him realize in that moment what's happening. And you can see the exact look of 'awh fuck', almost as if in slow motion. And when you finally get to lay your head onto his sweet, sweet, pillows, he gives up right then and there.
Syzoth accepts the love, completely. He might act all pouty because you robbed him of his favorite thing to do, but secretly he loves it. You can almost hear him purr.
Tumblr media
-Bonus Points! Bi-Han
Bi-Han doesn't really find himself buried in your chest too often. Mainly because he feels like he's controlled for that. He's thought about it, but refuses to do it.
But let's be honest, how can you not shove your face in his tits? They're massive, H cups AT LEAST. So you stalk your boyfriend, until you can find a private moment between you two.
He doesn't know your game, but he does know you've been following him. He's not annoyed, he's simply confused as to why you won't directly approach him.
So, when you ambush him, he's only slightly prepared. You go straight for his boobs. And you land directly in between them. Silence washes over you two.
Bi-Han doesn't understand. Part of him doesn't want to. So he simply wraps his arms gently around your waist and pulls you closer. He kind of thinks you're in need of comfort.
Tumblr media
© freyito, 2023 | masterlist | queue | kofi DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS
1K notes · View notes
angelsknifeprty · 6 months ago
Text
streamer!ellie hcs ⋆⭒˚。⋆
Tumblr media
a/n: this is more focused on ellie and less on ellie x reader but i am for sure gonna follow this up with something else more focused on the both of you >:3
warnings | mentions of weed, the smallest hint towards struggling with eating if you squint
word count: 698
do not buy tlou | ways to help palestine | operation olive branch | keep eyes on sudan | haiti’s history | learn about congo
𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅
 ‧₊˚౨ৎ started off posting unlisted videos of her playing games with the stupidest, shittiest editing ever for you and her friends to watch and later decided to give streaming a try
‎ ‧₊˚౨ৎ starts off her twitch channel as a faceless streamer but does a face reveal when she hits a big milestone
‧₊˚౨ৎ has the creeper mini fridge for sure!!
‧₊˚౨ৎ has a ginger cat named garfield that she exclusively calls garfunkel on stream because her viewers made fun of her for garfield being too unoriginal
“guys, what do you mean it’s unoriginal, look at him. that’s literally garfield, the real deal. you’re all haters.”
‧₊˚౨ৎ plays a bunch of different games: minecraft obviously, fortnite, roblox (and argues with kids on there, you can’t tell me any different). also loves fnaf, elder scrolls and resident evil
‧₊˚౨ৎ more on her liking resident evil, i think she’s not super wimpy when it comes to games like that but she HATES the regenerators from the re4 remake (i’m totally not projecting…)
“i am NOT a wimp, but look at their freaky fucking arms!! and they have gross little butts too, that was not a necessary choice for the character design.”
‧₊˚౨ৎ she does find it funny when she kills them and they jiggle as they fall on the ground though
 ‧₊˚౨ৎ i’m throwing it in here that she smokes weed because i simply cannot help myself teehee :P
 ‧₊˚౨ৎ she does more chill streams of her eating n stuff as a way of comforting her viewers so they can eat along with her )):
 ‧₊˚౨ৎ and in turn chat always spams her with comments to drink water because that girl survives purely on energy drinks to combat her sleepy girl syndrome
 ‧₊˚౨ৎ abuses the soundboard so heavily, loves using a sound effect of an audience clapping and cheering when she tells the most painfully unfunny joke
 ‧₊˚౨ৎ she is ABSOLUTELY a jerma985 fan
 ‧₊˚౨ৎ loves putting her fans on blast and reacting to edits of her on stream and finds it so funny (especially the ones that have the reverb fart noise just randomly slapped in there, she thinks it’s peak humour)
“you guys think i don’t see this stuff? i have eyes everywhere. y’know what though, you guys are actually really talented.”
 ‧₊˚౨ৎ wears stupid t-shirts that say stuff like “i paused my game to be here” (omg i just found one that says “gamers make better lovers, they know all the right buttons” she would absolutely wear that)
 ‧₊˚౨ৎ she wears her silly t-shirts with pride and has the audacity to ask chat to rate how hard her fit goes
therealher0brine: BOOOOOO 🍅🍅🍅 0/10
elliebellie69: i beg that you don’t leave the house in that /lh  (╥﹏╥)
gnarpgnarp500: never beating the loser lesbian allegations i fear…
“guys you’re just not seeing the vision, sorry that you’re not this cool.”
 ‧₊˚౨ৎ oh my gosh she is OBSESSED with the little ikea alien, she has multiple of them in her room. she keeps one on her desk and when she sometimes doesn’t know what to say she’ll just hold it up super close to the camera and make incoherent high pitched babbling sounds
smelliams420: omg cancelled you can’t say that dude…
 ‧₊˚౨ৎ gets her viewers to send in clips and she’ll do high try not to laugh streams and fails miserably because she has the dumbest sense of humour ever. she’ll blame it entirely on the herb though as if her reaction wouldn’t be near enough the same when she’s sober
‧₊˚౨ৎ will occasionally play guitar on stream and she’ll sing too if you catch her in the right mood. she’s a bit awkward about it so it doesn’t happen often cuz she hates messing up and always makes a way bigger deal about it than necessary
“fuck- no wait, i was just messing with you. that fuck up was on purpose, shut up,” and her cheeks are flushed bright red as she tries to brush it off and compose herself before trying again
 ‧₊˚౨ৎ loves to get sidetracked and info dumps about stuff she is far too knowledgeable on
 ‧₊˚౨ৎ in conclusion, loser ellie supremacy
a/n: raghhh i love streamer els with my whole heart !!! i’m gonna eat her (˶˃⤙˂˶) anyways i hope you enjoyed, k bye mwah! >3< ♡
361 notes · View notes
cursedeclipse · 16 days ago
Text
people might “it’s not that deep” this but i think it’s concerning the amount of hate feyre has been getting in the last few years.
it used to be really popular to criticize tamlin, now new readers wont allow folks to say fuck tamlin without ten of his annoying fans being like “but rhys did this” “but feyre was mean :(“ “he deserves a redemption arc”
the rise of misogyny and victim blaming in this fandom normalizes this behavior irl. would you see an abused woman who talks back to her abuser, he shows physical violence towards her, and tell her “well you knew he would react that way. why would you provoke him?? YOU’RE THE MANIPULATIVE ONE.”
especially with the rise of alt-right talking points on tiktok, conservatism, and misogyny. you can’t convince me there isn’t a problem with the way people hate on feyre to prop up her abuser.
acotar and acomaf chronicle feyre’s journey through being a lonely girl who falls in love with a man that promises her safety when she’s never known that, and then becomes controlling and wants to hide her from the world and disempower her. it’s not up for debate. it’s not subtle, it’s very on the nose for an abusive relationship. tamlin didn’t just change over night, you were viewing him through feyre’s rose colored glasses.
when i re-read acotar, i was struck by the fact that feyre and tamlin had maybe two serious conversations where they got to know each other before they were in love. feyre has more serious conversations with rhys in acotar and is able to be herself way more with him, and she notes that herself.
it’s scary to see how misogynistic female dominated spaces in book fandoms can really get, especially with misogyny on the rise in young men. does thinking that eris or tamlin are interesting mean you hate women? no, but when you hate on their victims and treat them noticeably more charitable than you do for female characters it does!
122 notes · View notes
samkerrworshipper · 1 year ago
Text
a whore’s punishment | sam kerr x reader
yeah literally the most smuttiest smut i’ve ever written… i implore even my non sammy fans to take a look because it’s literal filth x10 and even though im in a sam slump this literally lit me up.
warnings: smut smut smut, spanking using belt and paddle, phone sexting, dildo usage, fingering, vibrator usage, overstimulation, orgasm deprivation, safe word usage, aftercare. 18+ minors dni.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“What the fuck were you thinking?”
It’s the agitated and slightly angry voice of your girlfriend as she closes the front door behind her that captures your attention, you don’t remove your eyes from their focus on the tv, you knew better than to make eye contact.
“You were running late for dinner, what was I supposed to do?”
You could hear Sam stamping her shoes off, you knew she’d finally managed to toe them off when the sound of her padded feet stomping down the entrance hallway broke the noise barrier.
“Does that seriously warrant you sending me videos when I sent you a text saying I was being kept later for some media?”
No. Was the right answer, and if you weren’t in a bit of a bratty mood you would have said so, but Sam had been training everyday of the week recently, she came home tired, hungry and grumpy most nights. Not that you really minded, but it had been a week since you’d gone past the point of gentle morning kisses, and you were getting sick of it. No matter what you tried, she resisted. You tried to sneak into her morning showers, just for her to tell you that she couldn’t be late. You tried to straddle her when you were watching tv at night, just for her to tell you that she was feeling tired. You understood, it was understandable, but you also had needs, needs that your girlfriend needed to fucking take care of.
“You promised me dinner, if I get a little bit bored whilst you're running late then you can’t really blame me, there’s leftovers in the fridge.”
In situations like these there were generally two ways Sam reacted, prolonged gratification or instant gratification. She would either ignore you, until you were begging for her attention and then when you were begging for her she’d punish you, or she’d deal with you know. It typically was dependent on a few different factors, mood, hunger level, horniness level and annoyance level.
“Come here.”
Sam’s voice was flat, not a real indicator of her mood. You hesitated for a few seconds before getting up, keeping your eyes focused on the floor and not Sam.
She was standing at the kitchen counter, her keys and phone laid out miscellaneously on the quartz bench.
You tiptoed closer to her, keeping a safe enough distance but close enough that you were within arms reach if she took a step forward.
“Look at me, pet.”
That was new, not unwanted but new, pet names were a norm but the one ‘pet’ was completely new.
“Y/n eyes on me.”
The use of your full name was enough to pull your eyes from Sam’s socks, slowly trailing up her Chelsea sweatpants and matching long sleeve top, raking up her body until you met her eyes. They were set, slightly darkened, her jaw was locked but there wasn’t any obvious anger in her facial features.
“I told you I was going to miss dinner, at 10 o’clock when I got to training and Emma told Mills and I that we had to stay late for some Media, it wasn’t my fault. Now, can you remind me what the rule is about you touching yourself and orgasming without my permission?”
Sam’s voice was even, patient, your body craved it, craved her attention like this.
“That I’m not allowed to do it without your permission unless we’re in different countries.”
Your voice was a slight murmur, your eyes falling from Sam’s direct line of sight to avoid the penetrating glance she was giving you.
“That’s right, now let’s have a look at what you sent me, hmm?”
Sam picked up her phone from the kitchen counter and you couldn’t help but smirk to yourself a little bit as she quickly opened up her phone and your text messages, revealing a chain of texts from you, the first one being a single sentence before the onslaught of videos and images.
‘Should have come home earlier’
Sam clicked on the video immediately below that text, the screen was blank for a few seconds, before the camera was turned around to you, lying in your shared bed, fingers deep in your heat, pumping wildly in and out of your pussy whilst you moaned theatrically at the camera. You couldn’t help but snort, which received a fairly pointed look from Sam. The video went for a little bit too long, it became a little bit showy towards the end, you made notes for your future self.
Sam flicked her thumb across the screen, revealing a video of you in the shower, this time you were rubbing madly at your clit, the warm wash of the shower coming down on your body, your head thrown back against the tiles. This video didn’t go for as long, and it wasn’t quite as graphic but it got the message across. Sam’s thumb swiped against the screen once again, and the videos were superseded by a series of explicit images of yourself, in a series of compromised positions.
Once she’d flicked through them all she put her phone back on the table, there was a lot of disapproval on her face, her eyebrow cocked and her jaw locked.
“Was it just the two orgasms or were there more?”
Sam’s hand came to find your jaw, pulling it upwards so that you were forced to look her in the eyes.
“Just the two.”
Sam nodded slowly, the cogs in her brain were clearly turning over and over.
“Okay so two orgasms, and touching yourself. You sent four photos of you, but I’ll be nice and count it as one infraction. So that’s three all together, which means three punishments, any disagreements?”
You shook your head. Sam’s lips perked up into a sardonic smile, her tongue licking against her lips as she looked down at you.
“Strip and then over the counter babygirl, ass up.”
You nodded slowly, reaching down for the hem of the sports bra you were wearing and pulling it over your head, without any hesitation. You gently handed the bra over to Sam, before moving down to the waistband of your cotton shorts and tugging them down your hips, your panties coming down with them. You stepped out of them cautiously before handing over the other articles of clothing to Sam.
You stood in front of her for a few seconds, you felt so small next to her, so vulnerable, which you supposed was her intention. You gulped before moving towards the counter, and very slowly leaning over the top of it. You felt your nipples pebble up against the cold surface as soon as they made contact with the bench, your body reacting to the positively freezing contrast to your warm skin.
“Don’t move, and don’t even think about touching yourself, I’ll be back in a minute.”
You obeyed Sam’s order as she walked out of the kitchen and presumably into your bedroom, although you couldn’t tell for sure because you were facing the opposite way and you were smart enough not to disobey Sam when she already had plans to punish you.
You could hear her rustling around, presumably in your toy drawer but it was nothing more than an educated guess, a mere hypothesis about the plotting of your meticulous girlfriend.
You found your body shivering slightly over the counter, your muscles weren’t used to being stretched at this kind of angle and it was beginning to cramp your hips, if that was what 30 seconds did you were a little bit worried about whatever Sam had planned for the rest of the night.
You weren’t left to think on your own very long, the sound of Sam’s soft feet falling against the floorboards as she came back into the kitchen.
You heard her drop a series of items on the bench behind you, and then you were overwhelmed by near complete silence.
The only noise left in the room was the sound of you and Sam breathing and the low hum of the AC from the living room.
“What’s your safeword, pet?”
It took you a few seconds to process Sam’s words, your brain seemingly ticking along slowly with the lack of stimulation.
“Traffic light system. Red to stop. Yellow to slow down. Green to go ahead. If I’m gagged or can’t speak I can click three times or tap your thigh three times.”
Sam’s body felt so close to yours, and yet so far away at the same time, it was insufferable.
“Good, if you feel spacey or sick or unwell?”
It never seemed to amaze you just how much care Sam took even when she was mad with you, at the end of the day your safety mattered more than anything to her.
“I tell you immediately, if I feel faint or seriously not okay then I safeword or do whatever I need to to stop the scene.”
It sounded obtuse, but there had been times when such problems had arisen.
“Good memory baby, what colour are you?”
You took a deep breath, trying to keep some of your composure, but Sam’s voice, the overwhelming knowledge that there was more to come was causing a big collection of wetness pooling at the pinnacle of your thighs and slowly beginning to drip down them.
“G-Green.”
The hesitation in your voice came from the uncertainty that was your predicament. You felt so untouched, so exposed, which you supposed was what Sam was going for.
Then all of a sudden her hand was on your back, her touch feather light but it was something, and you keened into it, her touch completely welcome along your back.
Her hands weren’t there long though, instead snaking up to the highest point of your back and transitioning across the sides of your neck, until her hands were on your face, the feeling of her hovering a few centimetres above overbearingly too good to be true.
You didn’t get to appreciate the feeling for very long, before Sam’s hands were pulling a piece of satin across your eyes and tying the piece of material off at the back of your head, leaving you completely deprived of your vision. Everything else slowly heightened after this, your ears perking up and the nerves across your body jolting as you realised that Sam’s body had been removed from yours as quickly almost as soon as it had initiated contact.
You felt the loss more than anything, you craved her touch, craved the feeling of her skin on your own, and she knew that. She knew that deprivation was one of your biggest weaknesses, that it had you buckling at the knees for her, because there was nothing you hated more than forcefully being removed from the arms of your lover.
You heard Sam pick something up from the bench, and just as soon as the sound had hit your ears you felt the crack of Sam’s hand connecting with your ass. The feeling, then the sound, then the pain. It wasn’t really pain, just a sharp shoot of sensation crossing your ass cheek as you flinched away from the unexpected and unwanted touch.
“Count them for me.”
YOu gulped, swallowing down the big lump that had formed in your throat.
“One, thank you Sam.”
You didn’t have to wait much longer for her hand to come down on your ass, the sound rebounded off the walls, cacophonous as it reached your ears. The pain was mild, but it was enough to lift you up onto your toes, your body welcoming the contact but also adjusting to the mixture of pain and pleasure.
“Two thank you Sam.”
The next eight strikes were similar, the strikes started to become a little bit harder, a little bit more forceful, Sam seemingly unwavered by the small groans of pain that were leaving your lips every time her hand connected with the flesh across your ass.
When she finally got to ten you heard her take a few steps away from you, and then pick something up from the counter behind you before returning to her position hovering somewhere to the right of you.
You didn’t have very much time to hover over her whereabouts, before the sound of leather slapping against your skin hit your ears. The feeling of a slightly rounded, leather paddle cascading down across your bare skin sent a different kind of sensation across your body, the more vicious material searing against your skin and leaving a lingering feeling. You groaned in pain, your brain all consumed by the tingles that were making their way across the nerve paths along your butt.
“Colour?”
You felt your brain resurface, the realisation of your actual predicament setting in and your instinct kicking in.
“Green, 11, thank you Sam.”
Your words were said with tears building up behind your eyes and a choken sob halfway up your throat. Sam had spanked you far harder, this wasn’t anywhere even close to the threshold you had for pain, but for some reason it didn’t assist you whatsoever in stopping from choking up like a baby.
“You can stop counting for now, just take some deep breaths baby, you’re almost halfway there.”
Sam’s hand rested itself on the low point of your back, her cooling touch soothing the space above the burning expanse across your ass cheeks.
Just as you began to relax into her touch, she struck again, and again, and again, and again. You bit down hard on your tongue, hard enough to silence the sobs that were beginning to generate in the back of your throat.
“I better not find any blood in your mouth once we’re done, or else you’ll be dealing with a whole different punishment, make as much noise as you need, but you better not be hurting yourself in the process, that’s my job.”
You quickly unclamped your jaw, opening your mouth slightly to take open breaths, trying your very hardest to slow down all of the thoughts that were running wild in your brain.
Before you could ponder on them for too long, the paddle came raining down on your ass again, five more times.
You weren’t quite sure whether Sam’s pressure was increasing or whether it was just the repetitive feeling of the leather falling on brandished skin, but either way it was starting to burn, and you could no longer hold back the deep, guttural sobs that were building up, you knew it would do nothing to tug on Sam’s heartstrings, once she set out to do something, she did it, but you knew that it would make her realise that you were genuinely sorry and that you were feeling the repercussions of your actions.
“Last ten pet, almost done.”
You heard Sam put the paddle down on the counter with a thud, then you heard the sound of leather and metal, and your breath caught in your throat at the realisation of what Sam had procured. You felt your tits tremble against the counter, and your pussy clenching as it waited for whatever Sam had planned next.
You weren’t left to wait very long.
You heard the swish and the crack before you felt anything, and when you did your knees almost buckled from underneath you.
“Colour?”
It took you a few seconds to adjust to the pain that the belt inflicted, it was more targeted, more precise, it lit a literal fire on your ass.
“Green.”
Sam had used a belt on you a handful of times, you were used to it, and it definitely wasn’t something that was out of your comfort zone, but it took some adjusting to, especially on your already warm ass.
It cracked down on you once again, and you let out a deep, breathy sob, the tears leaking down your face steadily as you took in a deep breath, the silk blindfold soaking up some of the tears. You were using the bench as a means to keep yourself from buckling down onto the floor, without the bench there you were fairly certain you’d be a heap of bones on the floor.
Sam struck three more times, quicker, but just as precise as all the other strikes. Every single one though made contact with a different part of your ass and upper thighs, covering the skin in red stripes, that you were certain would bruise up nicely. Sam granted you enough time at the end of the trio of strikes to catch your breath before she fired again, another two fiery strikes cracking down against your skin, baking your behind and forcing more tears to fall down your cheeks.
Sam’s hand came back to resting on your back, gently working her fingers into your skin, waiting for you to relax and calm down before she finished off.
She would be lying if she said she wasn’t proud of her work, your ass a deep red, the same colour as the red cards that were used on the pitch. The belt had sealed the deal, leaving deep, angry, red lines across your beautiful ass. Sam wanted nothing more than to squeeze your ass, to see you double down from the pain, but she wasn’t that mean, actually, maybe she was when she was downright filthy with you, but she wasn’t right now, not really.
If anything she was a little bit dumbfounded and lovestruck, it always made her a little bit giddy when you outright decided to obey her in such ways, it made her realise just how much you craved this kind of affection, just how much you craved for her to put you in your place every once in a while, to remind you how Sam was in charge.
Once you relaxed under her touch she finished you off, pulling the belt up and very quickly letting the last three strikes come down against your skin. The sound of the leather coming down on your skin was music to her ears. She waited for you to compose yourself, dropping the belt back with the other stack of toys that were on the counter behind her before coming up beside you and raking her hands and nails over your back, letting you cry out whatever was left in your body.
It didn’t take too long, once the fiery pain had subsided it was just the lingering ache across your ass that you were sure would stick around and leave you unable to sit on any chairs for at least the next week or so.
“Turn over for me baby.”
You took a deep breath, and with the guidance of Sam’s hand, you turned over slowly, doing your best to not brush your ass up against anything. You turned your body, flipping over so your back was pressed against the cold stone. You left your ass hanging over the bench, hoping, and silently praying that Sam wouldn’t make you move.
She hovered over you, a little smile perking up the corners of her lips at the vision of your face. Your eyes were covered in the slightly damp red silk, cheeks covered in tear tracks that looked similar to snail tracks that you would find on a sidewalk. You were pouting at her, your lips parted slightly and lips swollen from the incessant biting and sucking you’d done to them to conceal your cries of pain. Sam was so desperate to see your eyes, to get a glimpse at your blown and big pupils, filled with desire and desperation.
“You did so good angel, my perfect girl hm? What colour are you? Feeling like a reward?”
You nodded at Sam almost immediately, your head nodding up and down.
“Yes please, I’m green, can take anything you give me, just wanna be your good girl.”
Sam smiled at your answer, her hands rubbing gently against your hip bones, her touch gentle, a stark contrast to the way she’d previously been treating another part of your body.
She loitered over your stomach for a little bit, her hands tracing the delicate olive skin, enjoying the feeling of the goosebumps that began to form the more her hands graced the surface of your hips.
She stayed that way for a little bit, enjoying how your back arched up to meet her touch. You were so much more receptive when she removed a sense from you, she noticed it every time the two of you messed with sensory deprivation. Whether it was your vision, hearing, taste, or restraining your limbs. It never ceased to amaze her how your body was so reactive so her touch, to anything you were given.
She waited until you were shivering under her, before she removed her hands, walking back over to the counter and picking up her next toy of choice.
When she turned back to look at you she took a few seconds, admiring the sight in front of her, your thighs squeezed together, your body unmoving, she assumed you were trying to contain the desire inside you, trying to suppress the heat pool in the bottom of your stomach. She was proud of you for trying, proud of you for trying your very hardest to behave. She was prepared to reward you for that, in a little bit, first she needed to make you work for it.
She slid her way across the floor, slowly closing in on you.
“Open your legs for me baby.”
You obeyed as soon as the words hit your ears, opening your legs up to reveal your glistening pussy lips.
“Slide back for me babe, legs on the counter, I want you nice and open for me.”
You bit your lip, not at all pleased with the idea of your ass making contact with the bench, but also aware that if Sam was asking you had to obey.
So slowly, you pushed your feet up off the floor, sliding your ass against the cold counter, bringing your legs to rest up on the counter beside you, leaving you open and ready for Sam.
You groaned at the feeling of your burning ass coming into contact with a cold stone counter. It was an excruciating sensation, almost worse than the feeling of the belt coming down against you. Sam gave you time to adjust, her hand coming down to rest on the inside of your thigh, just above your knee, it seemed to be enough for you, your body jolting at the contact. It was nice, but it wasn’t where you needed her, it wasn’t the part of you that was yearning for her.
“S-Sam please.”
Her fingers twirled around the skin and muscles, intricately tracing the different bumps and indents in your skin.
“Please what?”
Sam didn’t make you beg very often, for selfish reasons. When you were fucked out, you wrren’t highly coherent, and it took a lot to get words out of you. So it wasn’t that you were defiant of her questions, you just struggled to put together sentences, and she wasn’t going to torture you by trying to put words in your mouth. Today though she was feeling a little bit more patient than normal.
“F-fuck, please, my pussy.”
Your words slipped easier off your tongue then Sam would have expected, as soon as they did though her face lit up, her hand slowly trailing it’s way further upwards, working its way around the crease between your thigh and labia, tracing the joint before moving inwards and trailing her nail across your lips, teasing the bare skin and then ever so slowly dragging into your wetness. You moaned as soon as her finger slipped in between your lips, it wasn’t exactly what you desired but it was something.
Sam, ever so carefully, with laser focused attention dragged her lone finger around your lips, making absolutely zero contact with the two places that were craving her.
Sam continued the same pattern, her finger gently moving in and out of the wetness that was pooled inside your lips, leaving your pussy clenched and your clit puffy with need.
You tried your very hardest to stay still, arching your back up from the bench, just the way Sam liked, hoping that it would implore her to explore further.
It did it’s job, Sam’s finger leading itself down to your waiting hole, and ever so slowly sliding knuckle by knuckle in.
You moaned almost immediately, the feeling of your pussy sucking her in being completely indescribable. Sam started slow, her fingers sliding in and out of your hole and a tantalisingly slow pace, you didn’t really mind.
Unbeknownst to you, Sam wasn’t aiming for anything besides working you open, she didn’t care how much pleasure, or the lack of pleasure you got from her current actions, because for her it was more a chore of sorts, working you open so you could take the toy resting beside you on the counter.
She did so slowly, working you open with her single finger before inserting a second, going through the same process before inserting a third. She ignored your mewls and moans, being strictly clinical about her procedure, focusing on opening you up properly for her.
When you were easily accepting three of her fingers without any resistance she eased her fingers out, ignoring the sounds of displeasure that left your lips as she did. Sam was highly doubtful that you were finding much pleasure from her actions, you needed more stimulation then she was providing.
She licked the taste of you off her fingers before reaching up to the counter. This time, she knelt down on the floor in front of you, clenching the soft silicone in her hands and slowly bringing it up to your open and waiting pussy. She trailed it through your wetness first, getting it nice and lubed up.
Your body trembled with the feeling, completely interested in whatever Sam was going to give you.
“You sent me four pictures, so I’m going to edge you four times, on top of the spanking you just got. Every single time you get close to you are going to tell me, if you cum then we’ll start over again. After the fourth one you have permission to cum, but once you start I won’t stop until you tap out or pass out. I expect you to use your safeword when it becomes too much, if you don’t then we will keep going. Am I understood?”
You gulped at Sam’s captain’s voice, her tone direct and leaving absolutely zero room for you to avoid what she was asking.
“Yes, I understand.”
Sam smiled to herself, happy with your immediate compliance.
“Colour babygirl?”
It was a preemptive question, because you knew once Sam started she wouldn’t ask again, it would be up to you to decide when you were done.
“Green Sam.”
As soon as the words processed in Sam’s brain she was pushing the dildo into your hole, turning on the vibrations and slowly beginning to ease the dildo in and out, letting you adjust as she began to thrust it in and out with a little bit more vigour.
It was ecstasy for you almost immediately, your hips arching up to meet her at every thrust. Normally she’d restrain you, but this time she didn’t mind, especially considering that it was getting you closer to the edge.
You were a moaning, mess, your eyes rolling into the back of your head behind the blindfold.
“F-fuck Sam, close.”
It was embarrassingly quick for you, but you decided that it was better to get this over with, so you succumbed to your internal desires and allowed yourself to ride freely on the cloud of desire, which was withdrawn from you as soon as the words lefts your dry and raspy throat.
Your body began to tremble, your pussy clenching on empty air, desperate for any kind of attention that it could get. You tried to clench your thighs together, desperate for any kind of friction beside the cold AC that was falling down across you, making your pussy quiver and your nipples pebble, but Sam’s hands were there to stop you, holding your thighs open and waiting for the pleasure shocks to drain out of your body before she got back to her current job.
Just as you’d come down, she pushed the vibrating dildo back in, this time wasting no time and pounding it roughly in, focusing all of her energy on finding the spot inside you and rubbing the vibrating tip up against it.
She knew when she did, your desperate moans becoming significantly louder and thready. As soon as she’d located it, she honed in, focusing all of her efforts on that one spot. She didn’t care how sore she was from training, how much her triceps burned from her task, once she was focused on something it became a task that was unavoidable, she had to achieve whatever she was working towards.
“Sam-Sam, fuck, close.”
Once again, her hand revoked itself, leaving your legs shaking with the loss of sensation. You were so desperate, so fucking desperately chasing your orgasm. You groaned out in agony, it was both a blessing and a curse that Sam had decided on a number, because at least you knew when you were done, but it also made it feel so much harder to achieve that goal. Sometimes when Sam was edging you she’d just keep going and going until you tapped out, it was excruciating not knowing when it would finally come to an end, but at least in those situations there was an opportunity to try and beg or plead with Sam, whereas when there was a set target there was absolutely zero opportunity to bargain with her.
She didn’t wait for you to fully come down this time, Sam was growing impatient, and as much as she hated to admit it, she was feeling lazy right now. She was more than happy to punish you, but she also was going to do it in the easiest way possible for herself. She figured you’d learnt your lesson at the other end of her belt anyways, what she was doing right now was just reinforcement, leaving the impression that if you wanted to be a bratty whore than she’d fuck your brains out how bratty whores wanted it.
This time when she slid the dildo in she was met with absolutely zero resistance, she didn’t waste any time at all working it back to the spot she’d previously found, this time though, you were less reactive. It always seemed to be that the longer she edged you, the more stimulation you needed, so she reached her spare hand up from its spot resting on the inside of your thigh up to your clit, finally giving the neglected nub some much needed attention, and sending you into a world of pleasure.
She applied even pressure, spreading the pad of her thumb against your little puffy bud and usen an even circular pressure to make your body betray every single part that was trying to fight the edge that Sam just kept pushing you too.
You groaned, a flurry of expletives leaving your mouth.
“I know baby, I know.”
You were the picture of divinity in Sam’s eyes. Your nipples pointing upwards, hard as rocks, your back arched up and the sight of your bright red arse and thighs hanging slightly over the kitchen bench. To Sam, you were angelic, like a statue in a museum, or a Van Gogh painting.
“Sam, close, really fucking close.”
This time Sam loitered for a second, removing the vibrator from your pussy but leaving her thumb resting for a little bit, testing the waters. When you began to curse even more decoratively she removed her hand, resting both of her palms on the inside of your thighs and watching as you shook and quivered underneath her. She had a front seat to the image of your pussy, watching attentively as your sex unclenched and shivered right in front of her eyes.
It was a magical sight, a true gift to watch alongside.
“Last one pet, last one, I know you can do it for me, you’ve been so good.”
Sam’s words of encouragement were enough to fill your lungs with air, you could do it, you could do one more, even if it felt like Sam was literally taking a chunk of your chest out every single time she put you on the edge and then pulled it all away, like stealing candy from a baby. You were so hungry for your orgasm, absolutely starving for your release.
Sam didn’t taunt you with teasing, she knew you were desperate and she wasn’t going to toy with you. She wasted absolutely no time returning her thumb to your clit, rubbing it mercilessly and almost violently thrusting the vibrator in and out of you, hitting your g-spot every single time. It took you maybe a minute before you were balancing right on the edge, you wanted to succumb to it so bad, but there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that if you did it would only be a spiral of more edging and you didn’t need that, not after the hell you’d just been through.
“Sam-Sam stop, stop.”
Sam obeyed your request, removing her hands and placing them gently on your thighs, watching you come down from your ruined high.
“You’ve got it pet, you did so well for me didn’t you, this time you can cum as many times as you want, I’ve got you, just let me know when you're done and we’ll call it, okay?”
You nodded at Sam, you felt completely stripped, your blindfold damp with tears, your legs and ass aching from their exertion and your pussy jusr desperate for attention.
Sam’s breath on your thigh was nice, a relief of sorts.
Just as you were beginning to feel everything she pressed the toy back into you and her fingers were at your clit desperately rubbing.
It took absolutely nothing to get you to the edge, Sam was showing absolutely zero mercy, the dildo thrusting in and out of you with no rhythm, just ruthlessness, her fingers on your clit were the exact same, just rubbing furiously in circular motions.
“Sam-Sam fuck I’m cumming, fuck-fuck-fuck.”
Sam just smirked at the vision, your pussy clenching on the toy and your clit prodding out of it’s hood.
“I’ve got you babygirl, cum for me, I’ve got you.”
The words were enough encouragement for you, sending you directly over the cliff, your vision going black and stars clouding the darkness, your body spasming in ways that it never should as the pleasure coursed through your brain.
Instead of coming back to a blissful cloud of pleasure though you were awakened with pain. It was like having a bucket of cold water tipped on your head, the feeling of Sam pushing you towards another orgasm excruciatingly too much. Every single sensation was heightened, the agony in your ass, the sensitivity in your pussy.
Before you could even speak up you were barreling over the edge into an almost painful orgasm, your cunt and body spasming once again as Sam continued at her punishing pace.
You knew you were at your point, coming down from your orgasm and feeling nothing beside strain, and with the knowledge that Sam had no plans to slow down you took it as your time to tap out.
“S-sam red, red, fuck.”
As soon as the words left your mouth everything was gone, the rough touch and toy that had previously been overwhelming your pussy letting up.
You felt Sam slip out from under you, deserting whatever was in her hands and reaching up to your face, tugging the blind down to hang around your neck and reaching down behind you to untie it.
She was rewarded with the beautiful sight of your eyes, glazed over with a happy glint in them.
“Hiya my love, how ya feeling? I’m thinking a bath and then some snuggles in bed, how does that sound?”
You didn’t have the capacity to answer Sam in words, you just nodded your head, and she took it as enough of a cue to lift you up in her arms bridal style, being especially cautious to not brush up against your ass in any way.
She carried your limp form into the bathroom, resting you on the edge of the tub as she reached over to the faucet to start the water running. She reached under the sink, pulling out your favourite oils, salts and soaps, dumping a mixture into the rising warm water.
She helped you ease into the tub, cooing words of encouragement as you groaned at the feeling of your burning ass connecting with the warm water.
Once you were settled in the tub she undressed herself before sitting herself down behind you, helping you into her arms.
Sam spent her time washing your body, worshipping every single inch of skin carefully.
When the both of you started to prune she helped you out of the bath, holding your body up as she towel dried you, and ever so gently applying some healing cream to your ass to make it a little bit more comfortable.
After that she carried you into your shared bedroom, gently helping you under the covers before walking around to her own side and sliding into the bed, bringing you into her arms almost immediately.
“Sam.”
Sam looked down at you, her eyes caring and gentle, there was so much love to give in those eyes.
“Yes, love?”
It was so perplexing to you how those eyes could shift so easily, how she could go from being your dom to your lover in such a short amount of time, it was the reason you trusted her so easily with you, because as soon as the switch flicked she was all love, everything you could ever need or want.
“Thank you.”
You words were murmured into Sam’s shoulder, your body completely spent and relaxing further into her own every single second.
“Thanks for what baby?”
Sam had an inkling of an idea what you were thanking her for, but she was interested in hearing the words actually fall from your lips.
“For giving me what I needed, for loving me.”
Sam rolled her eyes, it was so you.
“Baby all you have to do is ask next time, no more of the bratting because you need my attention, hmm?”
You nodded sleepily into Sam’s body, her warm skin feeling like heaven to you.
“You gotta admit, is’ fun though.”
Sam just snorted, bringing your body closer to hers as you every so slowly drifted off to sleep in her arms, Sam following fairly quickly behind.
646 notes · View notes
bucksdaffy · 5 months ago
Text
today i'm thinking about how tim minear saved the henrentommy scene from the cutting room floor and sent it over to abc so that they could release it. when you think about it on its own, it's not really that special. tptb do that fairly often with their movies and shows: they save some extra content and include it alongside the official cut on dvds as a bonus feature. it's nothing out of the ordinary.
but this is tim minear we are talking about.
the same tim minear who, after 7x06 aired without the extended version of the buck and eddie karaoke scene (which angered a lot of buddie shippers to the point of sending him death threats), went on record to say that although he isn't really hesitant to share deleted scenes, it is something that has negative connotations for him. because last year, when he finished and released some 911 lone star scenes that were excluded from the finale, the fandom was furious that they were cut in the first place instead of enjoying the extra content. in the same statement, he mentioned that the reaction had left a bad taste in his mouth and so he wouldn't be doing that again.
given the context in which he said that, it's really hard to blame him. after all, he's human too, and it must suck ass when you release something you took your precious time to finish, thinking the fans would appreciate it, only for them to react negatively. he wasn't willing to go through that again. end of story.
except, he did do it again.
tim experienced backlash from both tarlos fans and buddie fans for not doing things their way. nobody would blame him if he didn't want to make the same mistake with bucktommy fans. but tim is sanguine. he is optimistic. he took a chance on us. he saved the scene from the cutting room floor, finished it, and sent it over to abc, knowing full well there was a chance that bucktommy fans would lash out as well. i like to think he was fairly certain this time would be different, though, due to all the positive interactions he has had with us. but at the end of the day, this is something only tim knows. the point is, he decided to risk it one more time. and i have to say, it makes me incredibly happy, and for once, i am really proud to be a part of something like the bucktommy nation. we may have a few bad apples, as all fandoms do, but as a whole, it is such a positive community. we appreciate all the content we get. we don't harass people for not giving us enough. we understand why the story goes the way it goes. we see how certain scenes don't necessarily fit with the narrative flow of a given episode. we are able to think critically. and all these traits are something that creators really do appreciate. i can only hope this continues until the end.
146 notes · View notes
god-has-entered-my-body · 5 months ago
Text
Summer 75 // Summer Heat - Matty Healy
Tumblr media
A/N: challenging myself to actually get through most of these xx
-day two-
content warnings: smut, fluff, sub!Matty, dry humping, kissing, grinding, praise, degradation if you squint, gets super sappy i can't help myself, matty cums in his boxers, no beta we die like men
Sweat beads on your forehead as you desperately search for a fan, water, anything to cool your skin down. A heat wave was truly the last thing you wanted, hoping that the cold, harsh British weather would live up to its reputation. So now here you are, riffling through your shared wardrobe to find something bearable to wear in this blinding heat, the absolute mess of t-shirts and tops and go knows what else making it impossible to navigate anything. 
You can hear shuffling and noises coming from downstairs, and you assume Matty is in a similar predicament, probably already stripping off his shirt and tossing it somewhere off to the side. It's a well known fact how much he hates heat and sweating in general, and honestly, you can't blame him.  
Music fills the room as you turn on the radio, bobbing your head to some pop song you don't know the name of. Giving up on finding a proper outfit, you pick out a bikini, running your fingers over the smooth material. Small rhinestones adorn the edges of the two-piece, the strappy bits fitting snugly against you, thin and breathable. 
Shorts hang low on your hips as you go down the carpeted stairs, your feet light on the ground. Your hair is up and out of your face, cool air hitting the back of your neck. Matty’s hair is clearly visible over the top of the sofa, long curls splaying out over the furniture.
His highlights are significantly grown out, and you make a mental note to re-dye them when you get the chance. He doesn't hear you approach at first, only noticing you when you sit down, the dip in the sofa alerting him of your presence. 
His breath audible hitches as his eyes rake over you, and he sits up slightly straighter, both his hands on his knees, gripping them. Now, you can't really play innocent here, you know that well enough. The top you’re wearing isn't padded at all, giving him a perfect view of your tits.
No matter how long you've been together or how much he tries to deny it, Matty goes weak everytime he sees any part of your body, acting like it’s the first time he’d ever seen it. You find it endearing, seeing him react this way to you, your ego swelling the longer he blatantly stares at your chest. 
“Alright?” your tone is teasing, raising your eyebrows at Matty as he shakes his head, as if that would get rid of the dirty fantasies running rampant through his mind. There's not much distance between you, but you still jump a bit when you feel his hand on your thigh. The look in his eyes is undeniable, lust clouding them over.
“Yeah, ‘m perfectly fine.” his hand trails up further, playing with the hem of your shorts. The straps of the bottom piece of your bikini are visible over the waistband, a sight that has all the blood in Matty’s head rushing south.
Not in the mood for slow and sensual, you sit up, draping one of your legs over Matty’s lap, trapping him under your weight. A filthy smirk dances on his lips as his face is met with your chest and he looks up at you, biting his lip provocatively. 
“This for me, darling?” his hands find either side of your waist, pulling you down on top of him. Your fingers thread through his hair feverishly, tugging lightly as small gasps leave Matty’s lips, his sounds like music to your ears. 
“Bold of you to assume that, I was just hot.” you mutter, your lips inches away from his. Matty gives in first, crashing his lips against yours with such a force that it genuinely knocks the wind out of you, leaving you breathless. 
“You look so hot in this, pretty.” his fingers snap the strap of your top against your skin. Perched in his lap, you set both of your hands on his broad shoulders, gaining the small bit of leverage you were hoping for. You can feel your nipples harden as he grazes his fingers over your tits, shamelessly feeling you up. 
“Fuck, I want you.” Matty is breathless as he takes your bottom lip in between your teeth, biting down hard. 
“Yeah?” your hips grind down into his hardening cock, the friction against your clit deliciously hot, a small gasp spilling from your lips. Matty doesnt fare much better, choked moans filling the room as your lips connect with his neck, drawing even more sounds from him. 
“Let me take this off you, please.” he toys with the strings of your top, reaching round your back, eyes begging you to let him untie it. A subtle nod tells him all he needs to know, the material pooling in his lap as it falls off you, Matty’s eyes comically wide. He incoherently mutters against your chest as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, tongue swirling around it, making you moan. 
Your skin feels hot, hotter than before, and you speed up your movements in his lap, feeling the steady build of your orgasm in your core. Matty’s hands snake their way around your waist, pulling you impossibly close as you grind down on to him feverishly, chasing your high. 
“Please, fuck– i’m so close.” he whimpers against your mouth, cock twitching in his trousers, precum painting the front of his underwear. 
“Gonna come in your pants? Make a mess like you’re fucking fourteen? God, you’re so pathetic, so perfect for me.” your switch between praise and degradation is dizzying, desperate whines spilling from Matty’s lips as one of his hands grips the flesh of your arse, small sparks of delicious pain shooting up your spine, making you moan. 
“M’close too, let me hear you baby, let me hear you come.” you gasp as he licks into your mouth, tasting every inch of you like it's his last meal. You can feel his hips stutter, the feeling of your cunt against him almost too much.
“Fuckfuckfuck like that, just like that–” you moan, and Matty rolls his hips again, the added friction against your clit hurling you over the edge. You press onto his chest for stability as his brown eyes stare into you, glazed over and right there. Riding out your orgasm, you kiss down his jaw, biting into the tender skin as Matty whole body twitches underneath you, his eyes rolling back as he spills into his boxers, choked whimpers leaving his lips. 
You kiss him softly, doing your best to work him through his high while you come down from your own, whispering sweet praises into his ear. 
“So pretty for me, did so good. Like it when I'm mean to you sometimes, right? Fuck, you’re so hot, love you so much.”
Matty can only nod in response as you pull back, trailing your fingertips over his heaving chest, tracing his tattoos. 
He looks utterly fucked out, sweat rolling down his face, his lips angry and bruised, dark, unruly curls falling over his face. You let your hand find his cheek, cupping it lovingly as you gaze into each others eyes, enamored with each other  
“I love you more than you can imagine, thank you for this.” he mumbles softly, nuzzling his face into your palm.
“I don't deserve you.” you say, kissing his forehead and pulling him into a tight hug. “I love you too.” 
“Wear that top again, you look gorgeous in it.” The change in topic makes you giggle into the crook as his neck, pressing light kisses to the skin. 
“Oh yeah?” 
“Got me so fucking hard, thought I was gonna pass out.” you graze your nails over his spine, feeling goosebumps form in your wake. 
“Flattery gets you everywhere, Healy” Matty chuckles at your words.
“I can see that.” 
Your hands thread into his thick hair, scratching at his scalp as you breathe steadily, basking in each others presence.
128 notes · View notes
poppy-metal · 5 months ago
Note
poppyyyyy i’m gonna cry not the thing i sent you being turned into an au and i have no more ideas for it 😭😭 this is hell. all i have to offer is this ( https://pin.it/4XElozLiD ) is nepo brats wedding dress in my head and it was one of those ones that’s shot by vogue and like sponsored by harry winston and they have a breakfast at tiffany’s themed rehearsal dinner like just a massive networking event essentially that she only agreed to bc she REALLY wanted artashi to see and react and bust down her door to beg for her back. also love the idea of a shitty marriage, i imagine it’s like when blair got married in gossip girl and she thought everything was perfect (on the outside at least) and then when they had their first dance he essentially was like “play your fucking part and this will be so much easier for you” and she was like oooooh shit what did i do 😐 called tashi in tears and she charters her a plane and lets her stay at their penthouse for a few days…..i wanna sit on their couch in a big gown with tears streaming down my face and have them take care of me even tho they’re pissed :( doesn’t mean they wanna see me hurt this badly :( need to try to apologize through sobs and have art say we’ll talk about this in the morning as tashi brushes hair off my forehead and pauses like she’s gonna kiss it :(
OR you could have her freeze up after he pops her little perfect marriage delusion and have her go along with it for months, maybe there’s a fan account that follows your every move that tashi checks daily on a burner. she notices the dwindling amount of times you’re seen with friends, essentially the only time you’re seen now is with that man by your side. over the months your personality snuffs out entirely, looking to him before you speak, smiling along to whatever he says. people make jokes about how your PR team finally broke you. one day art is standing in the corner of their living room, face twisted up, doesn’t look up when tashi makes an inquisitive sound. walks over to her and turns his phone around to show her a photo of you walking hand in hand with your husband into a restaurant, faint bruises up your arm, hair covering your eye intentionally. she stares at the phone with no reaction. finishes getting ready to go, says she forgot something as they get in their car and runs upstairs and barely makes it to the bathroom before she throws up. you’ve changed assistants by now but she finds their information within the hour, loosely threatens them with telling her where you’ll be for the rest of the day, rolls her eyes hard when she hears a “they” instead of “you”. doesn’t change anything she has planned. she makes a call to her legal team after hanging up with your assistant because there’s no way your husband will let you out of this without a fight, one that she’s prepared to hold your hand through the entire way. she shoots her husband a text and lets him know to get the guest bedroom ready.
AUR.
i think..... both can happen. you run to tashi as soon as the wedding is over - still in your dress, though its ripped in places - show up on her doorstep because you know the code to the gate - shivering in the cold and when the door opens tashi is looks so soft. like she'd just gotten ready for bed. hair a little damp and curling at the ends. a pale peach robe tied around her waist. she's beautiful.
she doesn't look happy to see you. "what are you doing here?" said so coldly. like you're not welcome. and why would you be? its so different to face her anger through miles and miles of distance. all you've wanted for months was for her to just - notice you. give you attention. you'd even say sorry, take the blame, take every word back, if she'd asked. but she's looking at you like you're an annoying reporter. a nuisance shown up at her door.
you break down in tears. full body sobs that have you kneeling at her door, at her feet, head in your hands as you shake with all your bottled up emotions. "i messed up." you choke - "i - i - i - its all wrong - tashi - "
you can't speak through your tears, heaving through wet flem in your throat. she'd have every right to toss you out. you wondered how pitiful you looked right now, crumpled like this. still in your wedding dress. your new husband probably buried in some other woman for the night. he wouldn't miss you. you didn't want to go to your new home with him.
you feel warmth at your elbows. tashi's hands, cupping you. "come on." her tone isn't warm, but its lost its chill. she tugs you up. "come in - you'll get fucking pneumonia out here."
she brings you in - one hand at the small of your back to guide you. you sniffle. look around. her home still looks the same. familiar. you're brought to their big expansive kitchen - where art had been scrolling through his phone in sweats and a simple cotton shirt - finishing off a bowl of fruit - when you come into view his fork pauses in the bowl. his expression is completely unreadable. but its not very welcoming.
he looks at tashi, dismissing you. you try not to flinch.
"what's this about?"
tashi leaves you at the kitchen island to open the fridge. she fishes out a bottle of water and brings it over to you. "drink this." she tells you. to art she simply shrugs. "dont know." and she looks at you. "what's this about?"
you struggle to open the bottle. your hands trembling. after a few failed attempts art rolls his eyes, yanks the water from you and opens it with one twist of his wrist around the cap. quick and easy. he slides it back over to you and looks at you blankly.
under both their stares you feel the weight of all the months between you. all the shit you talked about them on social media. the things you'd said.... your bottom lip wobbles. eyes filling with tears. "im sorry." you say, softly. you cant think of what else to say. "im - im sorry for coming - i- ill go."
tashi reaches out. you're startled by how strong her grip is on your arm. her nails almost dig into your flesh. you welcome the sting. a show of emotion. even if its anger. her claws coming out.
"no." she snaps. "you dont get to show up here after the shitshow you've made of this year - in your fucking wedding dress - sniveling like some sort of damsel at our home and then just leave." she points to a stool. "sit. explain why you came."
her tone leaves no room for argument. you find your ass in the stool before you even realize you'd made the conscious decision to move there. like a doll on her strings. it'd always been easy to take her orders.
you try to explain but you're pitiful at it. you keep crying when you bring up your husband - the way he'd treated you. how trapped you feel. how you came here because - despite everything, this was your safe space - you'd never seen it any differently. and you knew, no matter what, tashi would answer the door when she saw it was you on the other side.
they're quiet after that. art works his jaw like hes rolling thoughts around in his head, but his distrust is obvious. you know if he'd been the one to see you at the door, he'd have never answered. that knowledge hurts deeply - to know he's completely detached himself from you. that you'd lost him. his care and his love.
you wondered if you'd be thrown out regardless but tashi rubs at her temple. suddenly looking very worn out and tired. "this is a fucking mess." she says and your stomach twists. you were always complicating things for them. being a burden. she drops her hand. looks down at you like you're a puzzle with a few pieces missing.
you guys are the missing piece, you think.
"you can stay the night." she finally settles on, shares a look with art who looks like he wants to say something about that but she silences him. "we'll talk more about this in the morning. you need..... you need to get out of that god awful dress. and too sleep."
art watches tashi guide you to their guest room with a frown. he doesn't like this. tashi is such a strong front on the outside, but she was alot more vulnerable than people realized. and you'd really hurt her. you'd hurt both of them, but arts feelings..... they didn't matter here. at least, not to him. he could shove down the heartbreak and the anger and the betrayal and everything else he felt about you to make room for the world of hurt tashi was going through. he had to be strong for her. and you being here - showing back up - pouring salt in an open wound - god. you were such a selfish fucking brat. always had been. he used to find it endearing. now he just wanted to throttle you.
in the guest room - tashi helps you out of the dress. her knuckles skim down your spine when she unzips you. kneeling down to help you out of your heels. you hiss when she turns your foot - assessing the blisters. "jesus." she huffs. stands and gets you some of her things to wear. a soft tank top and some shorts. arts boxers, actually. you flush when you put them on, under tashi's watchful gaze. she points to the bed when you're done, a silent command.
you sink down onto the comforter. bite your lip when she comes back into the room with a jar of ointment for your feet. "here -" she sits next to you, and a waft of her scent hits your nose. sophisticated and clean. she props your foot on her lap as she gently rubs the cream into the abused skin. you swallow, as you watch her. this gentleness. you'd missed it.
all your life you'd been 'taken care of' but only in the most clinical of ways. you had all the money you could want, maids to pamper you if you wanted, but it was nothing compared to being...... treated like a human. being cared for by someone who actually cares about you intimately.
"stop doing that." tashi says. she doesn't look up from her work.
"doing what?"
"looking at me like that." she tells you. she finishes and cups the lid back on the jar, and she looks at you. brown eyes.... sad. "we're not - " she breathes. shakes her head. "you can't look at me like that."
you scoot closer to her on the bed. she doesn't move away. "its the way I've always looked at you." you tell her.
she glances at you. glances down where your - her - shirt has slipped off your shoulder and its bare. so close to her mouth. she'd pressed alot of kisses there. left alot of marks.
"things have changed." she tells you. "you know that - you're responsible for it."
you place a hand on her thigh, just under her robe. lean in. "i know and im sorry." you slip to the floor then, on your knees before her. "i didn't mean any of it." you tell her, looking up at her. "i miss you, tashi. i miss art. i miss - us. i - i want you back."
tashi looks down at you. her hand comes out and she catches a strand of your hair between her fingers. rubs it. "you're married."
"I'll leave him."
her eyebrows jump. "you've been a very bad girl to me and my husband."
the way she says it.... bad girl. familiar warmth pools between your legs.
"i know." you whisper. "and im sorry." you lean more forward, and her legs slide open - her robe inching up her thighs. she watches you. heat in her eyes. she still wants you. yes. "let me make it up to you - to you both - i will - you know i can."
she studies you for some time. then she parts her legs wider. "show me, then. show me how sorry you are."
you dont have to be told twice - ducking your head down - diving between her soft thighs - you moan when you discover she's not wearing any panties. your mouth finding her pussy already wet and slick.
more wet than usual - but when you pull back - her hand comes down - tangles in your hair to keep you pressed against her bare cunt. you look up and meet her eyes as you allow your tongue to investigate - "that's it." she purrs. "you know what to do with that tongue -"
you gasp when you part her folds - a warm flood of salty fluid pouring into your mouth. a zap goes through your body at the realization.
arts cum.
she sees you realize it and bites her bottom lip. rocks herself into your face. "he's been so pent up lately." she tells you, hooks one of her long legs over your shoulder. "and its your fault - so -"
her nails dig into your scalp - "clean it up."
you do. whimpering into her pussy as you tongue the remaints of her husbands cum, scooping it into your mouth and swallowing greedily. you missed his taste so much. you wish he was here, pushing you into her pussy. slipping a hand down your shorts to pet through your wet slit. he'd make you eat every last drop before he sank a finger inside.
when everything is gone, tashi adjusts her grip. using you now. rubbing her clit against your nose and working her hips against your mouth exactly how she likes it. "fuck." she pants. she looks down at you and both her hands cup your cheeks. her thumbs rub into the skin. "pretty girl -" she breathes, and you whine, "this is what - fuck - what your mouth should be doing - instead of running off online -"
her grip turns vicious - her movements more forceful. properly fucking your face with her pussy. you just lay your tongue out and take it.
"you're such a goddamm brat." she hisses and her clit pulses as she starts to cum. "but - god, i missed you. yes -"
you lap up everything she gives you. eagerly. her hands carding through your hair as she comes down. she sits up, detaching your lips from between her legs and you look at eachother, lost in a moment together.
her fingers trace your wet mouth. and you part your lips for her instantly. looking up at her like shes a goddess - because she is. she strokes across your tongue with her fingers. your eyes flutter as you start to suck around the digits. mouth blessedly full. you bob your head up and down them, taking her past the knuckle.
your teeth catch on her wedding band and her breath hitches when you swirl your tongue around it. her mouth parted in wonder - like she cant believe you're really here again.
this is where you should be. always. at either her or arts feet. taking some part of them inside you. its what you're meant for. not money and wealth and jewelry but this. this, this, this.
tashi pulls her fingers back suddenly. her ring clicks against the back of your teeth.
her face shudders. closes off.
"that -" she licks her lips. "that shouldn't have happened." she stands, and you fall back on your ass. look up at her dumbfounded.
"tashi -"
"a mistake." she retightens the sash around her waist. rubs a hand down her face. looks down at you. winces. "don't cry."
but how can you not?
"but we just.... you said -"
"do you really think head is enough of an apology?" she tells you, and that tone is back. the cold one. she crosses her arms. "god, you've dragged my name through the mud. the damage you've done to arts career - we had to take a break, did you know that? he missed matches that could have changed his life. all of that, on hold, because you decided to throw a tantrum because what -" she laughs. "- you couldn't handle a break up? grow up."
she shakes her head. lips pressed tightly together. she cant look at you. if she sees your watery eyes she'll fold again. take you into her arms and forgert the past year entirely. fall back into bed with you and make you cum over and over until you were nothing but the shaking mess she missed seeing. god, she'd just cheated on art. fantastic.
"I'll help you get a divorce if thats what you want." she tells you, already walking away. "but after that? we're done. for good, this time."
the click of the door sounds like a bullet in your ears. you stay kneeled on the floor for a long, long time.
and the next morning - when tashi goes to wake you up. she finds the room empty but a note left on the bed. she almost doesn't want to read it. art is in the kitchen - making breakfast for four. because as mad as he pretends to be for her sake, he still thinks about you. cares about you. misses you as much as she does. it'll break him to learn about what she'd let happen - but only because he didn't get a chance to feel you one last time himself.
tashi was really the selfish one.
she picked up the note. read it.
i want you to know meeting you in that coffee shop was the best thing to ever happen to me. I'm a spoiled rotten brat, i know. but you taught me to be more. you let me into your life. gave me another person to love in art, and you both took care of me and treated me better than i deserved. im truly sorry for how things ended. and im sorry for how i acted after. i was hurt. i thought you didn't care about me. that maybe you never did. and i lashed out. im sorry. im taking back all my statements in an interview next week. i hope it can restore some of the damage I've done to you and art. you're two of the most wonderful people I've ever met. and im lucky to have fallen in love with both of you. im not divorcing my husband. i think maybe i can try to make it work. you dont need to worry about me, either of you, you've done enough of that. I'll be fine. love - your tinkerbell.
the note flutters to the ground limply. art calls that breakfast is ready.
tashi isn't hungry.
132 notes · View notes
harlowsbby · 10 months ago
Text
A Nonsense Life 💘
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Requested, the reader pranking jack by making him think she got his name tattooed on her.
“I still don’t understand how or why I let you talk me into this shit.” Urban mumbled as he drove to the studio where Jack was at.
“Maybe because you know you can’t say no to me.” You stated with a little smirk displayed on your face.
You saw a few videos going around of a few girls pranking their boyfriends into thinking they got their names tattooed on them when in reality it was a temporary tattoo.
You knew Jack and you knew he’d flip out when seeing his name tattooed on you. With the two of you being in a little prank war you decided to try and go above and beyond with this one.
“We’re here.” Urban said as he pulled up next to Jack’s parked car in the parking lot. “Are you coming inside?” You asked him when you noticed he was still sitting in the drivers seat.
“Oh no I won’t be getting the blame for this so I’ll be staying right here.” He told you and you huffed in annoyance. “Come on Urban I’ll buy you anything you want.” You pleaded.
He thought about it for a few seconds before deciding to tag along with you because who are we kidding seeing Jack’s reaction to his name being tattooed on you only happened once in a lifetime, even if the tattoo was temporary.
The two of you walked inside the studio and you were both greeted by Ace and Nemo, the two of them were sitting on the couch while Jack was inside the booth.
“What are you two doing?” Nemo asked as he squinted at the two of you. Urban and You never really came to the studio and he knew whenever the two of you were together trouble was not far behind.
“I’m just here to see my man.” You told him but Nemo knew you were up to something. “Like she said.” Urban added on.
When Jack noticed you were here he immediately got out of the booth and made his way over to you and the rest of the guys. “Hi babe.” He smiled and pulled you into a hug and placed a kiss to your forehead.
“Hi baby how was today? You get anything done.” You told him and took his hand and dragged him along to one of the many couches that were in the studio.
“We got a few things done the album is almost finished.” He smiled as you played with the hem of his shirt. “That’s good I can’t wait for you to finally be all mine once it’s over.” You told him.
He coo’d at you “You been missing me or what? I can kick them all out and you know we can finish what we started this morning.” He tried to whisper and wiggled his eyebrows.
“I think the hell not.” Ace spoke. “I don’t wanna see or hear any of that shit.” He stated and Nemo and Urban nodded their heads in agreement.
Jack rolled his eyes at them but made sure to turn his attention back to you. “So what did you do today? You went shopping or something.”
“I did a little shopping that’s about all though and then I went and picked up Urban.” He nodded his head. “What did you guys do?” You bit your lip nervously.
You weren’t sure on how Jack was going to react upon seeing his name ‘tattooed’ on you but you knew you couldn’t keep the small talking going on forever, you wanted to see how he’d react.
“Actually I did a little something today a little something just for you.” You song sang and looked up as he looked down at you, the curiosity was written all over his face.
“What did you do? Did you burn something down? Did you start an argument with the fans again?” He sighed and went to pull out his phone from his pocket.
“What? No I didn’t do any of that I did something better.” You placed your right arm into his lap and he looked at you with his eyebrows furrowed together.
“Roll up my sleeve.” You told him and bit your lip to stop yourself from laughing. “Uh okay.” He stated.
He pulled the sleeve to your hoodie back and once it was finally up to your elbow his mouth dropped open upon seeing his name ‘tattooed’ on you in fresh ink.
You managed to put some cream on it along with wrapping it up in Saran Wrap to make it more believable. “What the fuck Y/N?” He looked at you and then back at the tattoo and back at you.
“What?” You laughed. “Don’t you like it?” You stated proudly. Nemo and Ace looked over at the two of you and frowned at Jack’s shocked and somewhat nervous facial expression.
“What’s up?” Ace asked. “This is what’s up.” Jack lifted your arm up gently and showed them the fresh tattoo that said ‘Jack’ on your forearm.
“Ain’t no way that shit is real.” Nemo laughed and went to go and touch it but you pulled your arm back. “It is very much real I wanted to show Jack just how much I loved him.” Jack shook his head in disbelief.
“So you decided to get my name on you? Are you insane or what Y/N.” He stated.
“What? I thought you’d love it.” You pouted and Jack cocked his head to the side and just looked at you in disbelief.
“Y/N I love you but babe you’re getting this shit removed tomorrow.” He told you. “But what if I don’t want to get it removed? You told him.
Jack loved you but the last thing he was going to let you do was do something that you’d end up regretting further down the road. He loved you and was locked in with you for life but getting his name tattooed on you was where he drew the line.
“You can’t be seen out in public with me that’s all I know.” He stated and your jaw dropped.
“Why?!? It’s cute now everyone will know I belong to you, don’t sit up here and act like your fans wouldn’t do the same thing.” You stated.
Jack leaned back into the couch and started rubbing his face with hands he didn’t know what to do or what to say how to even think.
Ace and Nemo were trying their best not to laugh but by how stress and by how unserious you were I mean how could they not laugh.
Ace laughed. “I mean she isn’t wrong.” Jack sent a glare his way. “I’ll just stay out of it.” He mumbled.
“Seriously babe take that off I know you’d never do anything that stupid.” He told you. “If you love me you’d let me keep it.” You told him and Jack hunched over in laughter.
“And if you loved me you’d take that shit off.” You rolled your eyes. You were starting to feel a bit bad by pranking him so you decided to let him know it wasn’t real.
“Here take this.” You handed him one of your makeup wipes. “Wipe it across your name.” He took the wipe and very carefully and gently wiped his name.
When he removed the wipe he smacked his teeth in annoyance. “You’re so annoying for that baby.”
“But it was a good prank.” You stated. “You and Urban are always raising my damn blood pressure.” He said.
“Whatever but when the time does come to do tattoos you’ll be the first one to get my name tatted on you right?” You asked him.
“Babe, don’t make me kick you out the studio.” You huffed and everyone laughed. “You love me though.” He smiled. “That I do now come on so we can take this shit off.”
He took your hand and led you to the bathroom to wash off your arm even though this prank wasn’t successful at all you still enjoyed stressing him out just a little bit.
(I hope I did this justice anon 😭💘 tomorrow’s concept will be filled with much more fluff)
304 notes · View notes
mononijikayu · 2 months ago
Text
chapter (4) — we go.
Tumblr media
GENRE: alternate universe - actors/celeb au!
WARNING/S: not safe for work (nsfw), r-18 and above, actors/singers au!, romance, fluff, minor angst, slow burn, humour, slice of life, will they won't they, light-hearted, flirting, playful, possessiveness, teasing, explicit content, possible, kissing, sexual content, innuendos, drama, feels, hurt/comfort, falling in love, love, happy ending, actor/singer! sukuna, actress/celeb! reader;
WORD COUNT: 3.6k words.
NOTE: i know i have a rule about not posting too much now since i just posted loml. but i really need to have more self—control you guys!!! i gotta work on this~ i think if you guys like it, it makes up for my constant constant posting. in any case, this was from the vault, pre-written a while back. so you know.....its stale!!! but still i hope you guys like it. much love everyone 🫶
TAGLIST: @kunasthiast, @midnight-138, @v3nd3ttal3on, @r0ckst4rjk, @theshxaverse, @cheescakebroom, @kariatenoh , @ggukfikz, @sukunadckrider ;
masterlist
hey lover! series
YOU MOVED A LOT OF THINGS AROUND TO BE HERE. But you would rather be here than in a stuffy plane for the next day anyway. You sipped your beer, satisfied as your Sukuna shirt merch moved along with your little groove. The night of Sukuna’s concert finally arrived, and the atmosphere was electric.
The venue was packed with fans buzzing with excitement, each one eager to see him perform live. You had managed to snag a private box for the event, a little piece of luxury where you could enjoy the show away from the crowd while still being close enough to feel the energy radiating from the stage.
As the lights dimmed, the crowd erupted into cheers, and you couldn’t help but feel a thrill of anticipation. The sound of the guitar riff echoed through the arena, and Sukuna made his grand entrance, the spotlight illuminating him as he stood at the center of the stage, confidently gripping the mic. He looked every bit the rock star in his stylish outfit, and your heart raced at the sight of him.
From your box, you watched in awe as he effortlessly commanded the stage, his charisma pulling everyone in. As the music flowed, Sukuna began to scan the audience, and to your surprise, his gaze landed on your private box. His eyes lit up with recognition, and a huge grin spread across his face.
You couldn’t help but smile back, your cheeks flushing slightly as you waved. The moment felt electric, and as if the entire venue held its breath, fans below began to notice the interaction. Whispers spread like wildfire, followed by excited shouts and gasps.
“Did he just smile at someone in the box?!”
“OMG, it’s Y/N! He’s looking right at her!”
“ISN’T SHE SUPPOSED TO BE IN PARIS RIGHT NOW?!”  
“WHAT THE FUCK, SHE DELAYED HER FLIGHT???”
“GUYS HE’S MELTING HE’S BEING CHEESY OH MY GOD!”
The energy in the crowd shifted, amplifying as they realized what was happening. Screens around the venue captured the moment, broadcasting your shared smiles across the big screens, and fans lost it. The sound of excited screams filled the air, and it felt like the entire arena was reacting to the undeniable chemistry between you two.
“Look at that! They’re totally a thing!” one fan shouted, waving a sign that read “Y/N & Sukuna Forever!”
You laughed, slightly embarrassed but thrilled at the reception. Sukuna, clearly enjoying the moment, leaned into the performance, still occasionally glancing over at you, his smirk not wavering. It was like he was feeding off the crowd’s excitement as much as they were feeding off his energy.
“Can you believe this?” you said to your friend who joined you in the box. “They’re all going wild just because he’s looking this way!”
“I mean, can you blame them? It’s a whole rom–com moment happening live!” your friend teased, nudging you playfully.
You roll your eyes, hiding how flustered you were. “Yeah, yeah, we get it.”
As the concert continued, Sukuna would steal glances your way, each time eliciting louder cheers from the audience. The more he performed, the more he incorporated little winks and smiles directed at your box, and you couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest person in the world.
During a particularly upbeat song, Sukuna jumped down to the edge of the stage, getting even closer to the crowd. He pointed at you, and the fans erupted again, screaming as if he’d just proposed on stage.
“HE POINTED AT HER!” 
“OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD — HE’S DOWN BAD???”
“HE  SO LOVES HER, THIS IS NOT NORMAL BEHAVIOR!”
“WHAT IF THEY’RE GETTING MARRIED?!”
“FRIENDS MY ASS??? JUST KISS HER SUKUNA, DAMN!”
As the chorus hit, Sukuna broke out into a playful dance, bringing more attention to your box. You felt your face heat up as you waved again, this time with a mix of shyness and excitement. The audience was eating it up, chanting your name mixed with his, a rhythm that echoed throughout the venue.
By the end of the concert, the energy was still palpable, and the crowd was buzzing with excitement. As Sukuna finished his final song, he took a moment to look around, soaking in the atmosphere. His gaze found yours one last time, and he blew you a kiss before bowing dramatically to the roaring crowd.
The fans around you lost it, squealing and cheering as if the arena had just witnessed a historical moment.
After the show, you found yourself flooded with messages and notifications. Fans were posting clips, photos, and every angle of the moment that had unfolded during the concert. 
“Sukuna and Y/N are officially the cutest couple!” one tweet read. 
Another captioned a photo, “When the rock star notices you, and the world stops!”
You couldn’t help but grin, realizing that this night would only deepen the playful speculation around you both. As you left the venue, you felt a wave of joy wash over you, knowing that every little moment you shared with Sukuna was turning into something special for both of you and the fans.
Backstage, Sukuna approached you, a wide grin still plastered across his face. “Did you see their reaction?” he laughed, running a hand through his hair. “I think they might have liked it a little too much.”
“Just a little.” you replied, your heart racing. “You’re unbelievable! You really know how to work a crowd, darling! Well done you!”
He shrugged nonchalantly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “What can I say? It’s all about showmanship… and having the best company.”
Sukuna’s smirk deepened as he stepped closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over you. The energy backstage still crackled with the high of the performance, and your pulse raced just being near him. His eyes, sharp and gleaming with amusement, locked onto yours as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear.
“Speaking of the best company,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, “I think you owe me a little celebration, don’t you?”
Your cheeks flushed, but you met his gaze with a playful glint of your own. “Is that so? What kind of celebration are we talking about?”
His grin widened, showing off his fangs. "Oh, something intimate, doll." he purred, his hand sliding around your waist, pulling you against his firm chest. His fingers traced light circles along your lower back, sending sparks through your body.
Your breath hitched, but you managed to keep your voice steady. "You want a reward for being irresistible on stage? Or just for being... you?"
He chuckled, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver. "Why not both? I think I deserve it, don't you?" His hand traveled to the back of your waist. 
You swallowed hard, your heart pounding at the intensity in his gaze. "Maybe... maybe you do. I…I do owe you dinner before I go to Paris.”
He grinned at you. “Sounds like a treat.”
➽──────────❥
YOU WERE STILL EXHAUSTED, HAVING JUST LANDED IN L.A. But you supposed that’s just how life is for you. Sukuna was probably on a plane to Asia by now, to do the Asian leg of the tour. So his phone would be off. Still, you messaged him, telling him he should get a good rest and that he should eat. Another text, wishing him good luck for his upcoming concert in two days. And another to remind him to call you when he can.  
A few weeks after the concert, you found yourself on the set of a popular  late night talk show, to promote your latest stage play work. Everything in you was just buzzing with excitement with the right hint of nerves. You were there to promote your latest project—a film that had just wrapped production—and the buzz from Sukuna’s concert was still fresh in everyone’s minds. Fans and media alike were eager to know more about your budding connection with the rock star.
As the cameras rolled and the host welcomed you onto the stage, the audience erupted into cheers. You waved, feeling a rush of adrenaline. The conversation started off smoothly, discussing your film, the challenges you faced during production, and the amazing cast you had worked with.
Then came the question that made your heart race. “So, Y/N, we all saw you at Sukuna’s concert a couple of weeks ago! It’s your first time attending a Sukuna special, wasn’t it? How was that experience for you?”
You smiled, reminiscing about the electrifying atmosphere. “Oh, yes. It is the first time. It was absolutely incredible! Sukuna is such a talented performer, and the energy in the venue was unmatched. I had a blast!”
“But I heard that you had a schedule before this, you had something going on in Paris?”
“I did, yeah. So it was for an ambassadorship shoot for a brand I’ve worked for a while and I had to go already and the invite, it was really last minute because I wasn’t really sure I’d make it.” You giggled as you saw the picture of you beside your friend on the screen. “My original flight was around the time the concert was happening. So, I was just like, ‘fuck it, we’ll sleep on the plane’; I called Sukuna, he already for a long time reserved a box for me.”
“That is just next level sweet, because he didn’t even know you were going to say yes and he still reserved that private box for you.” The host grinned as the people swooned over the revelation. “That must have touched you a lot.”
“It did.” You admitted, smiling from ear to ear. “Sukuna was just happy to see me there and I couldn’t be more thankful to just be welcomed and be a part of his world for a little while you know? It was amazing.”
The host nodded, clearly intrigued. “And speaking of Sukuna, I couldn’t help but notice he posted a rather adorable picture of you two after the concert. What’s the story behind that?”
Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt your cheeks heat up. You hadn’t expected to be asked about the picture so directly. “Oh, um… well, we were just having a fun moment backstage after the show….a lot of adrenaline left off from the stage!” you stammered, trying to maintain your composure.
The host leaned in, a teasing glint in their eye. “Just a fun moment, huh? Because it looked a little more than just fun to me! Fans are shipping you two harder than ever! How does it feel to have that kind of attention?”
You chuckled nervously, glancing at the screen where the picture was displayed. It showed you and Sukuna laughing together, a casual yet intimate moment that captured the chemistry between you. “I mean, it’s nice to have fans that are supportive, and I think it's fascinating how people are really interested in it all. ” you said, trying to play it cool. “But we’re really important to each other. He’s my darling and I’m his doll. We’re great together.”
The audience erupted in playful laughter and cheers. “Great together indeed. Cause both of you look like you’re ready for a rom-com!” the host chimed in, smirking.
You took a deep breath, your heart racing. But you grin. “I mean, aren’t we already doing a rom–com in Jujutsu Kaisen? Your lover sacrifices everything to be with you and becomes the King of Curses for you? A keeper!”
“Right?” the host grinned, clearly loving the playful banter. “But fans can’t help but wonder if there’s something more you’d like to show for it, especially after that concert moment. You know, the whole ‘knight in shining armor’ vibe.”
“Okay, okay, I see how it is!” you said, laughing to cover your flustered state. “I can’t deny that he has a way of making things fun. My darling’s just like that. But well, perspective’s important!”
The segment continued, but you could feel the teasing energy lingering. After the show, social media exploded with clips of your interview, and fans were buzzing with excitement over every little interaction you had with Sukuna.
Later that evening as you head to dinner, you waited out the traffic by scrolling through your SNS feed, you noticed a new post from Sukuna. It was a picture of you both from the after tge concert. You were both back stage and he held your face close, still in the zone from adrenaline of the stage. Though this time he added a cheeky caption:
Tumblr media
“Who knew my lucky charm could steal the spotlight? Just saying, Y/N, you’d make an amazing concert partner! Thanks for coming, doll! 🎶’
You felt your face flush as you read through the comments. 
“THEY’RE OFFICIALLY DATING! I CAN FEEL IT IN MY BONES!”
“Sukuna is just down right down, and I’m here for it!”
“Someone get these two a rom–com deal ASAP!”
“SUKUNA CAN YOU FIGHT??? Y/N MY BELOVED <3”
“YO HE’S SMILING SO HARD IN THAT PHOTOOOOO, HES DOWN BAD!!!”
Your heart raced at the playful nature of his post and the overwhelming response from fans. As the notifications continued to flood in, you decided to send Sukuna a quick message.
You’re such a dork. Can’t believe you posted that!
He replied almost instantly, What can I say? I like posting about you, doll! Besides, you looked amazing that night. Can’t help it. I gotta make no names jealous of me.
Feeling a mix of giddiness and slyness, you typed back, Thanks, bubs. I’m pretty sure everyone’s jealous of me too. Because they like you a lot. And I’m with you. But then again, people are just guessing.
Let them think what they want, he replied with a wink emoji. To be fair, doll, that’s all part of the fun for me. And who knows? Maybe there’s something more. Always a lot of room for you, doll.
Your heart skipped a beat at the implication, and you couldn’t help but wonder what the future held for both of you. The playful teasing, the chemistry, and the supportive friendship were all creating something special, and you found yourself excited about what was yet to come.
As the days went on, you embraced the fun of the speculation, realizing that maybe, just maybe, there was something more blossoming between you and Sukuna that you both were yet to fully explore.
➽──────────❥
YOU WERE EXCITED TO RETURN TO TOKYO. Not only because you missed seeing your extended family, but because you were going to finally reveal the months of hard work that bore the next season of Jujutsu Kaisen. You like to think that this season is the one you were most proud of. Not only because you finally got to play more than flashback scenes, but also the first meeting of Hiromi and Sukuna in a thousand years. You know that the fans would be just as excited as you. 
As you walked out of your car, stunning in your bright silver embroidered kimono, you were just waving towards all the fans you could see. Everyone’s excitement was palpable, you know that much.. The red carpet was packed with fans, media, and of course, the cast. 
You and Sukuna finally meet each other on the red carpet, looking stunning and greet each other with the warmest smiles and greetings. You both were surely ready to celebrate the launch of the new season. Fans lined the streets, holding signs and screaming for their favorite characters, and the energy was electric.
After the screening, the cast gathered for a Q&A session, with reporters firing off questions about the new season, character arcs, and behind-the-scenes fun. The mood was lively, and everyone was clearly enjoying themselves.
Then came the infamous game of “Fuck, Marry, Kill” and you knew it was only a matter of time before the question landed in your laps.
The red carpet host grinned as they turned to you first. “Alright, Y/N, let’s start with you! Who would you Fuck, Marry, and Kill from these cast? Sukuna, Nanami and Mahito.”
You paused for a moment, a playful glint in your eyes. “Hmm, let’s see… I’d have to marry Sukuna, Fuck… maybe Nanami, and kill—sorry but Mahito–kun! Sorry Nana–kun, Don’t have a choice!”
Laughter erupted from the audience, and you could hear the cheers from fans who were thrilled by your answer. But it didn’t stop there. The host turned to Ryomen Sukuna, a mischievous grin on their face. “Alright, Sukuna, your turn! Who do you choose? Y/N, Uraume and Naoya.”
Sukuna smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Easy. Marry Y/N, Fuck Uraume and uhhhhhh…..kill—Naoya Zenin! No apologies!”
The crowd went wild. The laughter and applause swelled as fans processed the fact that both of you had chosen to marry each other.
“Did you hear that?!” someone shouted from the audience. “They want to marry each other!”
“Wait, are they actually dating?! Are they really!?” another fan exclaimed, their voice rising in excitement.
You exchanged amused glances with Sukuna, both of you trying to keep straight faces amidst the chaos.
“We’re just interesting together!” you insisted, giggling as you waved your hands dramatically as if to emphasize your point, but the playful glint in your eyes said otherwise.
The host chuckled, clearly enjoying the moment. “Right, sure! Just friends who want to marry each other—totally believable!”
As the cheers and laughter continued, the excitement reached a fever pitch. Fans were snapping photos and tweeting in real-time, the clips of your answers flooding social media.
“OMG, did Sukuna and Y/N just confirm they’re in love?!” one tweet read.
“They're the ultimate power couple!” another one chimed in.
“I’m officially declaring them a couple!”
The energy was infectious, and as you and Sukuna tried to maintain your composure, you could see the delight in each other’s eyes.
As the panel wrapped up, you found yourself walking out with Sukuna, surrounded by the buzz of excitement. “Well, that was something, isn’t it?” you laughed, shaking your head. “I can’t believe we just did that!”
“Hey, they asked the right questions, doll.” he replied with a smirk. “And I meant every word!”
You felt your cheeks flush, both from the teasing atmosphere and the undeniable chemistry that hung between you. “You’re ridiculous, darling.” you said, nudging him playfully.
“Maybe, doll. But at least we’re entertained, don’t you think?” he shot back, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
You shook your head, smiling. “I suppose so.”
As the night continued, you both enjoyed the attention, the playful speculation, and the excitement surrounding the premiere. It felt like the perfect blend of friendship, chemistry, and the thrill of the unknown, and you couldn’t help but wonder just where this journey would take you both next.
Later that night, after all the excitement of the premiere had settled, you found yourself scrolling through Twitter, still buzzing from the energy of the event. Your timeline was flooded with clips from the Q&A, including the moment you and Sukuna had declared your “marriage” to each other. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the reactions pouring in.
Feeling a playful urge, you decided to quote-tweet the video. “Just a casual night at the premiere! 😂💍 #JujutsuKaisenSeason2Premiere”
Almost immediately, the notifications started flooding in, and the laughter continued as your friends from the cast began to chime in.
“@Y/NTheOne Can’t believe you both chose each other! Are we taking bets on the wedding date?” Yuji (@YUJIITAAA) teased, adding a winking emoji. “@ItsRyoSukuna, unc! You better watch out, grandma and grandpa would wanna know when the wedding is!"
“@Y/NTheOne Next time, maybe choose someone a little less deadly for your ‘marriage’ or something!” Nobara (@BARABARA²)quipped, her tone dripping with playful sarcasm. “But hey, at least you’ll have a killer wedding party!”
You couldn’t help but laugh at their banter, but that wasn’t the end of it. Maki Zenin joined the conversation, tweeting, “@Y/NTheOne Just remember: If you get married, I’m the one picking the outfits. No pressure!”
“@ZZZZZMaki If you’re in charge, I’m definitely eloping!” you replied, trying to keep a straight face.
Even the official Jujutsu Kaisen account (@JJKOFFICIAL_EN) jumped in, tweeting, “#JJKFamily is all about love! Who else is rooting for our favorite couple?” The hashtag started trending, and fans went wild, eagerly discussing the playful exchanges.
As the notifications kept pouring in, you could see Sukuna (@ItsRyoSuku) had also quote-tweeted the video, simply stating. “Only label needed is #MyDoll, you know?.” The simplicity of his tweet only fueled the fire further, and you could hear the collective gasps from fans as they interpreted it in a million ways.
With each new tweet, your excitement grew, but so did the teasing from your castmates. “@Y/NTheOne I swear if you don’t invite us to the wedding, I’m crashing it!” Gojo jokes, adding a laughing emoji. “Gotta involve your work hubby!”
You rolled your eyes, a smile plastered on your face. “@GojoRuRu7 I’ll let you be the best man if you promise to keep the sunglasses on at all times.”
Your phone buzzed again, this time with a DM from Sukuna. You’re really good at riling up flames. Love it, doll.
You smiled at his message, feeling a warm flutter in your chest. It works because you’re so good, bub. But I’m glad we’re riling it up more. It’s fun.
He replied almost instantly, Fun? You call this fun? I call it now — this is the start of our next big project. Reality show, anyone?
With a laugh, you typed back, As long as I get to pick the outfits!
Just then, your friend and castmate Shoko (@SHOSHOKO)chimed in, adding more fuel to the fire. “@Y/NTheOne And you know we’ll all be tuning in for that show! Would watch the chaos unfold any day!”
The laughter and teasing continued throughout the night, with fans and castmates alike enjoying the playful banter surrounding your so-called “marriage.” It was clear that you and Sukuna had unwittingly become a part of a larger narrative, one that thrilled both your fans and castmates.
As you continued to interact with everyone online, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement and joy. The playful teasing only added to the fun atmosphere, and you looked forward to what the future might hold—both for your career and your friendship with Sukuna.
The night concluded with a group chat among the cast, where the jokes and memes continued to fly. “@Y/NTheOne Ready for the wedding planning? I’m bringing the snacks!” Yuji sent, eliciting more laughter from everyone. "My mom and my grandma are ready to help out!"
“@Y/NTheOne Don’t forget to send me the dress code! I want to look fabulous!” Nobara added.
You sat back, grinning as you took it all in. This whirlwind of fun, laughter, and playful speculation was something you never wanted to end, especially with Sukuna by your side. The unexpected bond you were forming felt like the start of something beautiful, whether it was for the fans or just the two of you.
105 notes · View notes
attackfish · 1 year ago
Text
So everybody here knows that I'm notorious for being a massive defender of Ursa, and that I have no patience for the "Ursa was a bad mother, she favored Zuko, and was abusive to Azula and abandoned her kids, and made Ozai abuse Zuko," narrative. That narrative is vile, victim blaming, and deeply stupid on a number of levels.
With that out of the way, I want to talk about some really really bad parenting we see Ursa do during the series. And it is to be clear really really bad.
In the Book Two episode, "Bitter Work", Zuko and Iroh have a conversation:
ZUKO: So Uncle, I've been thinking. It's only a matter of time before I run into Azula again. I'm going to need to know more advanced firebending if I want to stand a chance against her. I know what you're going to say, she's my sister and I should be trying to get along with her-
IROH: No, she's crazy, and she needs to go down.
This scene is a favorite of a certain type of Azula fan who wants to paint Iroh as a big meanie who didn't wave his magic redemption wand over Azula the way he clearly did over Zuko. See? See? He's writing her off here and calling her crazy.
This of course misses the context of that scene, which is that Zuko is taking care of a severely injured Iroh, who was injured by Azula, in what looked a heck of a lot like a murder attempt. Earlier in Book Two, in the episode, "The Avatar State", Azula unambiguously attempts to murder her brother after failing to capture him, and he is only saved by Iroh's quick reflexes.
But let's leave that argument aside for today because what interests me about this scene in the context of Ursa's parenting, is the line Zuko says right before Iroh's infamous declaration: "I know what you're going to say, she's my sister and I should be trying to get along with her."
Because in the context of Zuko and Iroh's situation, where Azula has recently attempted to kill Zuko, and just put Iroh into a coma that Zuko had to take care of him during, in which he has only just woken up from, this line from Zuko actually demonstrates some really warped thinking. It is not a healthy response to the situation at all. And his assumption is that a good caring parent figure like Iroh is going to respond to this situation by telling him that Zuko needs to get along with his sister, who is actively trying to hunt him down and capture or kill him.
So why does Zuko think that? What adult reacted that way to Azula's violence toward her brother in the past? It wasn't Ozai. Ozai is not going to use the language of getting along with one's siblings, when he is so bent on setting them against each other. So who was it?
The show answers this a few episodes before this scene, in the Book Two episode, "Zuko Alone." The answer is clear and heartbreaking: It was Ursa.
The scene in which this becomes plain, starts with Zuko and Ursa walking together. Mai spots them and smiles and blushes. Azula notices, and then turns to Ty Lee, and whispers, "Watch this!"
AZULA: Mom, can you make Zuko play with us? We need equal teams to play a game!
ZUKO: I am not cart-wheeling.
AZULA: You won't have to. Cart-wheeling's not a game, dum-dum.
ZUKO: I don't care. I don't want to play with you!
AZULA: We are brother and sister. It's important for us to spend time together. Don't you think so, Mom?
URSA: Yes, darling, I think it's a good idea to play with your sister. Go on now, just for a little while.
And then Ursa leaves Zuko alone with Azula and her friends.
There is a lot here that I want to talk about. I have in fact talked about this scene before, and what it tells us about Ursa's eagerness to reinforce Azula's seemingly kind and loving behavior: [Link], and even touched on why this is in fact an example of bad parenting from Ursa: [Link], but I think this deserves its own post, where we examine exactly what went on here, what this tells us about Ursa's parenting, and how this affected Zuko, and to a lesser extent, Azula.
In those previously linked posts, I talk about how this is clearly a pattern, that Azula has learned to predict and manipulate, and because we know it's a pattern, we know that this behavior on Ursa's part is repeated, and something her children have come to expect from her. Zuko and Azula know their mother wants her children to get along with each other, and love each other and have a good sibling relationship with each other so much that if Azula she plays into that, Ursa will force Zuko to spend time with his sister, and worse, that time will be unsupervised.
So, to be clear here, what Ursa is doing is giving Azula unsupervised access to her brother, against his will, as a reward for Azula momentarily acting nice. Or in other words, Ursa forces Zuko to spend time with his abuser against his will because she wants them to get along.
I think we can all see how that is some grade A terrible parenting.
And it does have negative effects on Azula. I think that we can see her learning how to manipulate people, learning how to lie and get what she wants from people, and that Ursa by giving her what she wants here, is showing her that this is a thing she can do to get what she wants. That is not a great lesson to teach your kid. I think it also feeds into Azula's possessiveness of her brother, and sense of entitlement towards him. She has learned that even the people who love and care about her brother, won't protect him from her. And she has learned that no matter what she does to him, he is supposed to try to get along with her.
These are some really terrible lessons, and we see some of the effects of them throughout the course of the show, so why is it that the "Ursa is a terrible mother" crowd never bring this up? I mean of course we know why, it doesn't fit their narrative. Their premise is not simply that Ursa is a bad mother, or even that her bad parenting explains Azula's behavior.
In fact frequently it isn't even about finding someone to blame for Azula's behavior, so that the responsibility isn't Azula's. (Which, to be clear is not how it would work anyway, because even if Ursa were exactly the type of horrible mother they said she was, Azula was still making the choices to do Very Bad Things, in the same way that just because Ozai is an abusive father, this doesn't mean Azula stopped being responsible for her own actions). It's more about proving that she has suffered enough that she deserves all the sympathy, and is allowed to be awful to other people, including Zuko, you know, as a treat.
The narrative that the "Ursa is a terrible mother" crowd are pushing is that Ursa didn't love her daughter, and thought she was a monster, Azula suffered so much, and it's so sad, and this is why she deserves to do very nasty things to everybody else, and no one should ever hold her accountable. Frequently there is some flavor of, "Zuko had a mother who loved him, you guys, unlike Azula, so he doesn't deserve sympathy, not like poor baby Azula!" Which is a deeply warped thought process on many many levels, but we're not going to go into that here.
The point is, that this type of bad parenting that I am pointing out here, doesn't fit this narrative, because this is not the kind of parenting mistake that a mother who doesn't love one of her children, and thinks that child is a monster, is going to make. This is the kind of mistake that a mother who loves her children very much, and wants them to have a good relationship, and doesn't recognize the threat that one of her children poses to the other, is going to make. In fact, the fact that she does it, proves that Ursa does in fact love her daughter and does not think she's a monster. So it does not fit the narrative these people are spinning, so they will never bring it up as an example of how Ursa was a bad mom.
Of course the other reason the "Ursa is a terrible mother" crowd aren't going to bring this part up is because it would mean acknowledging that Zuko deserved to be protected from Azula, and needed to be protected from Azula, when they were both children, which would go against the whole "she's a poor innocent child" thing they like to spin, and also because Azula is getting what she wants here, and Zuko is the one suffering, which is not going to get Azula any sympathy points.
And for the most part, Ursa was an excellent mother, who did the best job she could in horrible circumstances that she had very little control over, but she wasn't perfect, and she did make mistakes, which makes all of this a wonderful example of how even very good parents can make very bad choices that hurt their children and cause serious long-term damage.
I've talked some about the long term damage that Azula faces from this, learning about manipulation, and developing some really nasty entitlement issues with regards to her brother, but Zuko's long-term damage is if anything worse.
When we put this together with Zuko's line from "Bitter Work" quoted earlier, we can see that Zuko learns what Azula learns from the other angle, which is to say that he will not be protected from Azula by anyone, and not only will he not be protected, but he does not deserve to protect himself. Not only can he not defend himself, but he can't even protect himself by avoiding her. That's not allowed either. And in the face of her cruelty and violence towards him, it is still on him to make their relationship work, and to be clear, he should absolutely be making their relationship work. And the adults who love him are going to tell him this, no matter what Azula does to him.
I for one am really glad that Iroh is there to say no, that's a terrible idea, and you do not need to keep trying to get along with your sister who is trying to kill you. And it's significant that throughout Book Two, Iroh consistently protects Zuko from Azula, and teaches him what he needs to fight back.
943 notes · View notes
wwereaderinserts · 5 months ago
Note
do you do cody rhodes..? If so can i ask for some fluff from him where the reader injures her head during a fight (busts it open and needs like 2 or 3 stitches)
Title: Gimme Stitches Pairing: Cody Rhodes x Reader Word Count: 866
Your heart is hammering in your chest, the adrenaline coursing through you while you wait for your opponent, Tiffany, to scramble back up to her feet outside the ring. You prance on the spot, taunting her while you amp yourself up to spear her into the steel steps, waiting for the perfect timing to ensure you can deliver a pivotal blow to her in your match so far.
Tiffany rises up to her feet with her back to you, blissfully unaware of exactly what’s about to hit her. Once she finds her bearings, she turns on her heel in your general direction, and that’s when you seize the opportunity to charge directly at her with a guttural yell.
You lock in on her as you run full speed, closing in on her rapidly, but just as you’re about to reach her, she’s situationally aware enough to sidestep you and avoid your spear. Your feet carry you too fast for you to stop yourself in time, and you carry on running until you lose your footing slightly and crash into the steps.
The crowd reacts with a resounding ooh! at the impact - as do you from how hard your head connected with the corner of the steps - but it isn’t until you feel a trickling down your forehead that you realise you’ve done slightly more than simply take a bump.
“Ah! Shit!”
You express your pain as you attempt to rise back up to your feet, and when you catch the look of sheer horror on Tiffany’s face when she sees you’re busted completely wide open, along with the referee rushing out to check on you, reality begins to set in.
Despite insisting that you’re fine and that you want to continue the match, the referee makes the executive decision to stop the match. Not that you blame them in the slightest - you currently have a nasty gash on your forehead that’s bleeding like there’s no tomorrow, and for all you know, you could’ve easily given yourself a concussion.
With the adrenaline finally beginning to subside, your head throbs and you can taste the lingering copper on your lips as you amble your way back up the ramp to the applause of onlooking fans either side of you.
You’re inwardly kicking yourself right now, frustrated that you’ve potentially just put yourself on the shelf for a good few weeks depending on the verdict from medical, but you also understand that this is the risk you take every time you step foot in the ring. But you cast your frustration to one side as soon as you’re met with a friendly, very familiar face.
“Oh my god, I saw that out there! Are you okay?”
Cody is already waiting for you, damp towel in hand and at the ready as soon as you make it backstage with concern written all over his face while he stops himself from reaching out to you. You give him a weak thumbs up in response, seemingly downplaying things, but Cody is having none of it.
“Just a scratch, I’ll be fine-”
You begin, but Cody shakes his head and takes a step closer to you. The towel is clenched up into a ball in his hand, and he uses this to lightly wipe away any residual blood that remains on your face while he takes extra care to avoid the nasty gash on your forehead.
“No, none of that.” Cody’s tone is soft, but you can tell he’s lightly scolding you, “Don’t try acting like this is nothing. The match was stopped, and this looks really bad. You’re gonna need stitches, definitely.”
His eyes meet yours, and you feel a warmth spread in your chest at the tenderness of both his gaze and the way he cleans you up. You know he’s right, and worried about you to boot.
“I watched it all happen from back here. You had me worried, y’know?”
Cody continues, and even though he’s trailed off with a rhetorical question, he still seeks some form of acknowledgement from you. You hum and give him a brief nod, reaching out to take the hand of his which isn’t holding the towel in yours.
“I can only imagine,” you crack a smile for him and give his hand a brief squeeze, “But you know me, I’m made of tough stuff.”
You press a soft kiss against Cody’s knuckles, and the tension leaves him, if only for a fleeting moment. He returns the gesture before you release your hold on his hand, and it returns to its rightful place to cup your face.
“As much as I can clean you up for the time being, you’re still bleeding. We’d better get you over to medical.” he tells you with a nod of his head towards the nearest doorway, retracting both his hand and the towel from you, “But I am glad it didn’t end up being worse than this.”
You nod in agreement and take his hand in yours, giving it a light squeeze to which Cody is quick to reciprocate before he leads the way to medical with you in tow, fully intending on staying with you the entire time.
79 notes · View notes
m1ssunderstanding · 3 months ago
Note
If Paul can't be who he is, or talk to people, keeping it in him who's to blame for this. If he has problems he doesn"t talk about or we older fans see him the way we do, whom is he hiding from? Is it really fare to blame his fans for thinking like he's happy and got it together. Do the younger generation see things differently? I care and adore Paul and don't want to think he isn't. Is that it? Or do we need to feel he's lying and all pr I know pretty much everything public about Paul. I dont mean to be rude or disagree with you. I enjoy seeing new fans and sees him from your pov but I wanna know what you think what he feels he can't share.
Hi! Okay, let's break this down.
Question one: Who is to blame for Paul not being more open about his private life?
Jim McCartney. Next question. No, it's a lot more complicated than that. Besides it being just a natural part of his personality, the foundation of this trait was formed through the whole context of his upbringing which laid the groundwork for how Paul would react to fame, as opposed to the other three. Then, because he was already set up to do so, fame and its side-affects and consequences made Paul double down on closing up. Then during the breakup, John's diarrhea of the mouth syndrome and Linda's encouraging Paul to lean into his home life and let his public life be, put Paul further into a pattern of craving privacy.
Question two: Is it fair to blame older fans for taking Paul's public self as his private self?
Firstly, I don't see the point in talking about blame in the first place. A) being a private person, putting on a face in public, is neither bad nor uncommon. (Maybe nobody really does it to the degree Paul does it. Maybe it does have some negative outcomes and does point to a lack of self-assurance and a strong tendency to emotional avoidance) but to some degree, Paul's cagey and fake public self is normal and healthy. B) blame is the least interesting mystery here.
Secondly, no one is trying to blame older fans for Paul's behavior. What I personally am frustrated with is what such a large group of people taking the surface as the entire ocean does to Paul's character as a historical figure and to the Beatles narrative as a whole. However, this large group is certainly not limited to older fans, nor does it contain all the older fans. Additionally, people can do, think, and say what they want. It's not some pressing humanitarian concern if people misunderstand Paul McCartney and the Beatles. It does seem to indicate and contribute to a large-scale cultural deficiency which may negatively impact more important social issues, but it is certainly far from a life and death situation.
Question three: Does the younger generation see things differently?
I'd actually never thought of these views in terms of generations, but yes, I guess many younger fans do look beyond the surface more than many older fans do.
Question four: Do we need to assume Paul is lying and all PR?
Again. Nobody needs to do anything. Do what you want. But. If you are looking to gain a more serious understanding of one of the most influential people of the twentieth century, then I suggest you don't take every word from his mouth as one-hundred-percent truthful as you should with anyone. This is absolutely not to say Paul is a liar and only cares about looking good to the public for business reasons. In fact, I believe if he was completely open about a lot of the things he guards against fully sharing, he would come off a lot better.
My personal rules of thumb with the Beatles are these: 1. John (and to a lesser extent George) often speaks from a place of strong emotion and uses talking about his experiences and feelings to regulate and soothe. Therefore, his statements are often extreme and often emphasize the negative. Paul (and to a lesser extent Ringo) cannot express strong emotion and fears talking about his experiences and feelings without disguising them or softening them. Therefore, his statements are often evasive and often emphasize the positive. If John says "I was going through murder," he means, "my mental health struggles were particularly difficult at that time even with all the good things I had going for me." If Paul says, "but it wasn't all, you know, great," he means, "Despite what I've made it seem like, that period of my life was not even safe, let alone perfect." 2. Take into account the culture these men were raised in and the attitude that culture would've pushed on them about certain topics. None of them are going to be particularly open about anything they would've been in any way punished for during the bulk of their life experience.
Question five: What do you think Paul feels he can't share?
If you were internationally famous, would you share absolutely everything about your personal life, innermost thoughts, politics, desires, regrets, hurts, and loves? I don't think so. Now, imagine you had most of your ability to be emotionally vulnerable beaten out of you as a child, you and your three best friends experienced death threats and permanent career damage due to one seemingly innocuous comment, and the person you trusted most in the world turned on a dime and exploited all your insecurities and the entire world followed suit for decades. I imagine there would be galaxies filled with all the things you feel you can't share and that you would use whatever protective measures necessary to keep yourself sane.
89 notes · View notes
burst-of-iridescent · 9 months ago
Note
I’ve been reading a series where a guy is in a near identical situation to Katara was in The Southern Raiders. But what I find interesting is that no one really tries to stop him and the fandom considers it completely justified. I can’t help but think despite it being two different series and fandoms that Katara’s gender has at least something to do with this. When a male character wants to seek revenge and kill the murderer to do it, the narrative and fans justify it but when it’s a female character she’s vilified, seen as out of control and letting her emotions get the better of her. I hate when people say Aang was right to say what he did and try to stop Katara from making her own choice. It doesn’t help that we know Bryke is misogynistic based on well everything to do with their female characters post series after they didn’t have the talented writers who actually understood the characters helping them. And sure I know Bryke themselves didn’t write The Southern Raiders but we know from script leaks that there were more shippy Zutara moments that were cut and I think we know who’s to blame for that. So I wouldn’t be surprised if they still influenced the more problematic parts of that episode. Such as Aang and Katara never talking about or resolving their conflict, Sokka calling Aang wise beyond his years and never talking about or resolving his side if things with Katara, and even Zuko weirdly agreeing with Aang at the end that “you were right about what Katara needed.” Even though she literally just told Aang a second ago that he was wrong and she would never forgive him and doesn’t know why she couldn’t kill him. If you couldn’t tell I have rather mixed feelings about TSR episode.
Sorry for the ramble. How do you think their conversations (Katara, Aang, and Sokka) would go if they were to talk about it all after the episode?
oh misogyny definitely plays a part - just compare the way people react to inigo montoya from the princess bride vs katara in tsr - but i think the bigger issue is the overt narrative framing of the episode.
on a first watch, tsr appears to push a very simplistic idea of "violence = bad" and strongly favours aang's perspective, which encourages the viewer to see him as being in the right while katara and zuko appear to be in the wrong. the fact that aang never changes his perspective and both zuko and sokka are (forcibly and very uncharacteristically) made to take his side by the end naturally inclines the audience to do so as well.
it's only with a closer reading that you see a more nuanced take which highlights the flaws in aang's thinking and treatment of katara. katara herself makes it clear that what aang wanted her to do would not have helped her find closure, and she began her healing process without ever forgiving yon rha - which is exactly why i hate people attributing her decision not to kill yon rha to aang when she explicitly stated she did not and would not ever do what he wanted her to!
these are the same people who will also blame zuko for being a "bad influence" on katara, as if the only reason she hunted down her own mother's killer is because zuko convinced her to do it. katara isn't some weeping willow to be bent to the will of zuko and aang; her decisions are her own, not based on the whims of the boys in her life. can we please stop stripping katara of all her agency in the one episode that actually focuses on her trauma and healing?
rant aside, i do wish that katara had talked to sokka after this episode and i imagine there would be some apologising on both sides. sokka - a realistic sokka, because my god was he wildly out of character - would probably check in on her and admit that he was afraid for her safety and well-being. katara would likely apologise for the "you didn't love her the way i did!" remark and i think it would've been nice for them to finally talk about kya and for katara to bring up the conversation she overheard from the runaway about how sokka confessed to seeing her as a surrogate mother.
(imo the impact hearing that would've had on katara was largely downplayed in the show, and is likely part of the reason she reacted to sokka the way she did in the southern raiders, but that's a post for another time.)
the katara-aang conversation would probably have gone the same way that it did in canon, because the issues with their dynamic in tsr are part of the underlying problems with the kat.aang relationship in general. i would've liked to see aang have a little more of a reaction to katara saying she never forgave yon rha (he doesn't seem affected at all in the show), and for that to maybe prompt him to really reflect on what he said.
but ultimately what really has to be tackled here is aang's idealization of katara and his focus on clinging to air nomad values at the expense of those from the other nations - and those problems run too deep to be fixed in a single episode or conversation. the southern raiders would have been a good starting point, but unfortunately the finale never engages with these issues, and so what could've been a great arc ends up going nowhere at all.
175 notes · View notes
roo-bastmoon · 1 year ago
Text
Fanservice Couple Sucks at Fanservicing
Hmmm.
Jimin's Album: Here's a super secret hidden song "for the fans" with lyrics that mimic things Jimin said before specifically about Jungkook, with Jungkook providing background vocals that were never discussed when marketing the album, and listeners have to wait through dead air to get to hear the song and shine a light on the invisible lyrics engraved in the album and it's not uploaded onto Spotify or for digital sale because.... fanservice.
Jimin's Documentary: Here's less than two minutes of footage of Jungkook singing Letter; the film cuts away from Jikook's hug and doesn't interview Jungkook about it at all, and practically his entire face is covered when he's singing it; also, the paper he's holding is shaking like a leaf, unlike earlier in the day when he was recording for the World Cup, which was the biggest solo performance of his career at that time, because.... fanservice.
Jimin's Live Reaction: Here's Jimin lighting up like a Christmas tree when Jungkook quietly sneaks in the room to watch his live recording before going home; now watch as they awkwardly interact for two minutes--including a tiddy grab and butt smacking, on top of "I love you" and "have fun with ARMY!" but notice Jimin sends Jungkook away, instead of letting him mic up and sit on the chair and react with him, because... fanservice.
Jimin's Commentary: Here's Team Jimin reacting to every remote detail of the making of the documentary, except when it comes to Letter, in which case no one breathes the name Jungkook and he is never heard nor appears on screen, because... fanservice. gosh that sure is odd.
The fanservice isn't fanservicing.
It's almost how like, in their real lives when they aren't working, Jungkook watched all of Jimin's content, or Jungkook mumbled about how Jimin moved his lamp or mentioned Jimin kept coming up to him to say "periri," or how Jimin traveled to NYC and CT for Jungkook's debut and they filmed something but all Jungkook would say about it is "Yeah, he's in.... New York," and then Jimin posted a shirtless picture on Jungkook's birthday but never spoke on it, or how both Jimin and Jungkook just happened to find time to watch the same random anime, or how they went to Jeju together but we wouldn't have known if Tae hadn't posted photos, or how it is heavily implied that they spent Chuseok together based on the whale drawing that Jimin posted and the way Jungkook was quick to tell us that Jimin drew half of it.
Golly gosh, for a Fanservice Couple, it's almost like a bunch of stuff isn't being shared with us on purpose. But why?
Doxxed info? Tampered mail? Death threats? Press scandals? Global debut? Conservative homophobia? Military service?
Who knows, but "lack of genuine closeness" doesn't seem to be the driving reason.
I'm not gonna sit here and scream conspiracy theories about a "private couple." Jimin lives like a hermit much of the time and Jungkook is running around with his same-age friends quite a bit these days.
So as I always say--I cannot tell you that Jikook are dating. I can only tell you we have solid evidence of unique, charged chemistry between them--and tons of hints that they spend more time together than they let us in on. That's it. If there's more, we aren't getting to see it.
And I don't blame anyone who takes the stance "I'll believe it when I see it." I think a fair amount of skepticism and a dedication to the just the facts is a healthy mindset.
But it really makes my teeth itch when Jikook are accused of doing fanservice for the cameras, cause...
Tumblr media
Where the hell is all my fanservice?? *grabby hands* WHERE?
Why is it that even TWO SECONDS of them interacting is so charged and fraught that it gets the entire fandom frothing at the mouth?
Jikook DO spend time together but they aren't running onto WeVerse to share it with us all the time, ya know? It leeks out little by little. And that makes it even MORE suspicious than just two bros hanging out in broville doing bro things.
Tumblr media
In summary: This Fanservice Couple *sucks* at fanservice in solo era for sure.
380 notes · View notes