#except i rarely talk about it so...here is me talking about it

[pinkyqily]

Could you writr smt with Vicky and maybe reader bit older than her trying to teach her to drive and pass the test and it being absolutely chaos for them two? Maybe like as chaos that they need try get Irene or Marta to help (Basicly anyone of the elder but not Alexia thanks)

𝙁𝘼𝙎𝙏 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙊𝙎 - platonic vicky Lopez x reader x Irene Paredes

Summary: You and vicky cause havoc when you had to get your drivers license, but else to stop both of other than the mother of the group Irene.

Contains: cursing, funny banter, going back and forth in English and Spainsh, hate comments, also pictures used in the instagram acc doesn't not represent readers only there for aesthetic reasons so feel free to use your own description. 2y age gap as vicky is 18 and reader 20, if the age gap makes anyone uncomfortable plz let me know and I'll change it

A/n: apologizes that it took me a long time to reply and get this done but here it's and I hope that you enjoyed reading this cause it was a lot of fun writing this 💕 and I found it funny how you didn't want a alexia mention 😭 there's only a small mention of her in the social media part. There's also going to be 2 more parts cause who doesn't want there love to continue.

Anyways don't forget to like,reblog and comments as they help my page and motivate me 🫶🏿

It was during an away game where you had overheard vicky talking about how she was getting ready for her driving license.

and she was talking about how she needed someone who already knew how to drive to teach her, so she doesn't look like a fool whe she get to the center for her practices.

You being the experienced driver yourself and had recently gotten yours. decided to offer your help to her in which you received a laughing vicky in your face.

"Usted es un conductor experimentado, ¿en qué ciudad?" She said while laughing

"This one belive it or not my driving is exceptional". You tried convincing her.

"Si eres excepcional, no me gustaría saber cuáles son las habilidades de conducción de Salma".

"Salma?who can barely drive herself outside of her own parking lot is who you're comparing me too I fear you've lost it."

"Por favor Salma, conducir es como una brisa".

"brisa sure a one way tickets to a real madrid game in which you guys crash before you get there". You said to her.

By now both of you where going back and forth on which one of you had bad driving.

"Está bien, dejaré que me enseñes porque nadie más se ofreció".

"Meet me after our game on Friday."

Friday came around pretty quickly, and you found yourself in a free area to help vicky practice. The first few days went pretty calmly as she already knew the basics.

It was around your one week mark of teaching her that things to a turn for worse.

you had decided that you both would take turns driving out. distance being from your place to a near by cafe, going and returning.

Vicky had done perfectly fine, fine being hitting a few stuff but she got her act right. It finally was your turn until one asshole decided to pass your light speeding and almost hitting your car as you we're in front.

But you weren't one of those drivers who would let it slide.

You rolled down your cars windows and started cursing out the guy in your broken spanish as your blood was boiling when you saw his car infront of you. The audacity of reckless drivers now are days.

"¿Tu cerebro está tan dañado que necesitabas chocar mi auto?." You yelled out from your window

"Estás jodidamente atónito de que no puedas hablar. Pensé que estábamos conduciendo y no teníamos como objetivo quitar vidas". You said to the driver who stil hasn't responded by now a few people where coming out to see what was going on.

The driver was at least 5'0 when he came outside of his car coming your way. Seeing him from your rare light you also decided to get out because there was no way he was going to intimate your ass.

"Vicky just stay here and keep the door closed this Canadian driver is about to go bonkers".

"¿Seguro que quieres salir allí?" She asked you

"The last thing I'm having is that guy thinking he can hit my car and think he can get out of it". You said to her.

"Aye don't be worry I'll just go out there take a picture the damage and his drivers plates so I can get it insured". grabbing her hands as you could tell she was getting worried.

"solo que nada mas". She said

"Can't promise you no trouble though". You told her as you got out of the car. Thank God for athleticism because the moment the guys saw a tall women coming out the car he had change directions of where he was going.

Who was intimidating who now?. You did what you told vicky taking pictures of the damages and drivers plates. All of a sudden your felt someone tap your shoulders but you where quick to catch there hands due to fast reflase.

Looking up and seeing your Barcelona teammates and mother figure Irene starring at you.

"¿Qué está pasando?" preguntó ella".

"Some asshole started It and aye being tall has it privileges". You told her half joking.

"Por favor dime que Vicky no está en tu auto".

"Well she is cause I was teaching her how to drive until this mess". You said pointing to your car and the dumb driver.

"Bueno, ustedes necesitarían un auto nuevo porque el suyo necesita una reparación total." She said to you instead of whatever speech you thought she'll had given you on.

"I'll have to rent one ugh speaking of renting one this one isn't even mine to being with". You told her now remember this was a car the club had gotten you so your transportation could be easier.

"No te preocupes, ellos lo entenderán, además, claramente no es tu culpa". She said

From then on she came to every single practice she could make it to so that she could monitor your teaching and Vicky's driving.

Thankfully the club was able to understand the situation and you got a new one.

The day of Vicky's finally test came pleased to say she passed with flying marks and now has her drivers license. As she told you over the phone the moment she found out

"Told you I was an expectation all driver and teacher". You said to her playfully hitting her arm

"No eras tan malo como pensaba". She told you

"So your accepting the fact that I'm a great driver".you told her

Bueno, no genial, no te adelantes". She said but this time around her tone was very much different to the teasing one she normally use on a close friends.

After your call with vicky you had decided to drive to her place.

she did deserve a celebration for passing her test wasn't everyday people pass it, so you told yourself, but it was more of a excuse for you to just see her.

She was quite flustered to see at her place considering both of your just off the phone. You took her out to her favorite snack shop and told her she could pick as much stuff she wanted that it was all on you.

She brought some ice cream and a bag if snack filled with both your favorites for away games.

You found yourself starring at vicky in a i wanna be more than friends way, the way her lips would touch on the ice cream leaving a traces of it on her cheeks, the chil wind slowly blowing through her bouncing curlys.

You felt like grabbing a pices of her curlys but held yourself back

YourInstagram&vickylopez

Victories are meant to be celebrated @vickylopez

Comments

@Woso_fan are they dating?

@Ona.batlle what are we celebrating that the whole gang isn't there

》yourreplied vicky passing her drivers test thanks to my amazing teaching

》vickylopezreplied Estábamos de acuerdo en que bueno ¿de dónde salió lo asombroso?

@Salmaparalluelo ese beso parece un poco antipático mantén tus gérmenes lejos de mi hermana pequeña

《Youreplied calm down I haven't taken your sister from you yet

》comments has been deleted

《You replied calm down we're just having fun

@cattta.coll feeling a little disappointed on not being invited

@Claudiapina La primera foto es romántica creo @vickylopez @yourusernamee

《Youreplied worry about fans suspecting you and @patriguijarro being together

《@Claudiapina sí, solo somos mejores amigas

《Youreplied Bestfriend who spend the whole summer together

@viickylopez the best teacher 😄

《Liked by creator

@vickyandyournamesupremacy I knew something was going on with them after that el classico

《@Wosoloveseveryone replied don't spread misinformation like vicky would date a thing like that

《@allaboutwoso replied wait what

《@wosoloveseveryone replied you can check my page I've posted the moments between these and it quite obvious they're more than friends or want to be more than friends

@alexiaputellass ¿qué es esto?

《Comment has been deleted

Translations

"You are an experienced driver, in which city?" - "Usted es un conductor experimentado, ¿en qué ciudad?"

"If you are exceptional, I wouldn't like to know what Salma's driving skills are - "Si eres excepcional, no me gustaría saber cuáles son las habilidades de conducción de Salma".

"Please Salma, driving is like a breeze." - "Por favor Salma, conducir es como una brisa".

"Okay, I'll let you teach me since no one else volunteered." - "Está bien, dejaré que me enseñes porque nadie más se ofreció".

"What's going on?" - "¿Qué está pasando?"

"Is your brain so damaged that you needed to crash my car?" - "¿Tu cerebro está tan dañado que necesitabas chocar mi auto?."

"You're fucking stunned that you can't talk. I thought we were driving and not aiming to take lives."- "Estás jodidamente atónito de que no puedas hablar. Pensé que estábamos conduciendo y no teníamos como objetivo quitar vidas".

"Are you sure you want to go out there?" - "¿Seguro que quieres salir allí?"

"just nothing more." - "solo que nada mas".

"Please tell me Vicky isn't in your car." - "Por favor dime que Vicky no está en tu auto".

"Well, you'd need a new car because yours needs a complete repairing." - "Bueno, ustedes necesitarían un auto nuevo porque el suyo necesita una reparación total."

"Don't worry, they'll understand, besides, it's clearly not your fault."- "No te preocupes, ellos lo entenderán, además, claramente no es tu culpa".

"You weren't as bad as I thought."- "No eras tan malo como pensaba".

[faithlia]

᥉᥆꧑ᥱᥒthιᥒg ᥲb᥆ᥙt ᥡ᥆ᥙ ᝰ.ᐟ

english ins't my first lenguage!

summary: matt and you share a tension that could be cut with a knife – which intensifies even more when he sees a picture of you.

warnings: suggestive, flirting, bissexual!reader, jealousy.

a/n: this is a collab with @aniesvision about the same story with different povs. click here to read her pov with Chris and get to know a little more about this.

The phrase "fucked up" is exactly what can define me at this moment. Damn! How could I be so careless and stupid? Look, I had no intention of sending that photo of my boobs in the group – that Matt is – I just wanted to show my bikini line to Anne.

My eyes widened in despair when I saw him approaching. My heart almost jumped out of my mouth when I noticed the smile on his lips. I pulled Anne by the arm before I could even greet them. I took her to the bathroom and started yapping nonstop, forming several scenarios in my mind. However, Anne proposed an interesting idea after I told her that yes, maybe, I want Matt, but not in a way that he thinks I'm desperate for him.

"Okay, well, why don't we test it out to see if he likes you too? I can pretend to be flirting with you so we see his reactions." she suggested with a mischievous smile. Something was so enchanting in her voice that made me delirious, it was impossible to say no to her.

I bit my lip and listened to her words.

In the end, it really seemed to work. She approached me with her crimson lips very close to mine, she touched me shamelessly and, even though it was just to tease the boys, I really did get slightly excited. Matt seemed confused, unlike Chris who was furious. I laughed as I looked at Matt but kept up the charade, loving the way he didn't take his eyes off me.

As the night went on, we drank and said a lot of stupid things to lighten the mood, except for the fact that Anne and I kept on touching each other. We went to the mini golf course and Anne kept bragging about scoring more than us; she and Chris were in an unbearable fight – which was the gateway for Matt to finally approach me.

"So, how long are you and Anne going to keep rubbing against each other like two bitches in heat?", he asked, with the golf club on his shoulders – he looked like an idiot.

"And since when do you care, huh?", I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"I think since you sent me that picture...", he had a smug smile on his lips. Son of a bitch! I looked down, embarrassed, trying to find words that could shut that insufferable and delicious mouth. "Oh, no, come on! Don't be shy... they're beautiful."

"Oh my God", I exclaimed, positioning myself to leave, pretending I didn't like the compliment. Damn, I wish it wasn't true that I had tanned for him, but it was! I wanted him to see me, I wanted him to desire me, to like me and say it out loud just so I could tell him to fuck off or something. Does that even make sense?

"You know I sent it wrong"

He put the bat on the floor and let out a sigh. It was true, I had no intention of sending that photo in the chat like that, I wanted him to see it in person, but no one needed to know that. I sat in one of the chairs in a row, watching Chris and Anne almost kill each other on the mini golf course.

He sat next to me and I was dazzled by his blue eyes adorned with a shine that I was rarely able to witness. It was beautiful. He lowered his gaze to my mouth, sighing, and I soon noticed when he planted his eyes on my bust, ignoring what I had said.

As focused as I was at that moment, we were surrounded by several people, and that alarmed me. I swallowed hard, feeling shame take over my body. "Okay, stop it,” I said.

“Stop what?” Matt frowned and I gave him a disapproving look – he knows exactly what I’m talking about. “What? Do I make you nervous?” His smile was cocky and smug, but yes, he made me nervous as hell.

“No,” I lied. “It’s just that you’re practically ogling me, Matt,” I blurted out.

He pursed his lips and said, laughing at my insinuation, “Oh, stop pretending you don’t like it.”

"What?" I asked, offended - but not entirely. Matt was slouched in his chair, very close to me. He put one of his arms around my neck, using his fingers to play with my necklace. I didn't feel uncomfortable, although it was rare that we were actually this close. Even though we were friends, there was always that indiscreet flirting when we were alone. I just didn't have the courage to make the first move, and, disappointingly, neither did Matt. However, tonight, he had been less reluctant than usual, and I loved it.

"Am I lying?" he pointed out. Now, with the proximity, his voice was a little lower, but due to the music in the place and the constant chatter, he decided to speak in my ear. "I'm wondering: how long are you going to keep playing this little game, hm?" his soft voice made me shiver. I liked the way his body was pressed against mine - trying his best to calm my nervousness.

Matt turned his face away, waiting for my answer. "I'm not playing games!".

Unfortunately, I never got around to being more deliberate. I crossed my legs and snuggled closer to him, getting much closer to each other.

"Aren't you? Then what's all this?", he lowered his gaze and I bit my lip.

"You're the one who did this, idiot," I grumbled. "And, well, you're the one who kept complimenting my boobs...", I shrugged, watching him chuckle. I felt comfortable enough to run my boot over his covered leg, giving him a gentle caress.

"But you're the one who sent the picture of them..."

He brought his lips closer to mine, ready to kiss me but I dodged, making him kiss the corner of my mouth. "Matt... not here!", I whispered in a slurred voice, wanting to cry with so much desire.

"Not here?", he repeated, kissing my cheek, then behind my ear and also my neck. "Where then?", he moved his hand to my arm, forcing me lightly against his chest. "Tell me..."

I really didn't want to kiss him in the middle of so many people, especially because I knew very well how a simple kiss could end. My temptations seemed insatiable, just like his. Before I could answer, I saw Anne and Chris approaching. I took a deep breath, straightening my posture and thinking about what I would do, but nothing came to mind.

Matt didn't force me to speak, respecting my silence. He gave me his usual simplistic look, dragging his hand down my thigh and finally standing up.

I saw him handing the car keys to Chris and Anne came to me, asking: "So, is he already desperate for you?", I stood up and put my arm around her waist while she put hers around my shoulders. "Almost", I answered.

They got to the car and Chris would be our driver this time while Anne made herself comfortable in the passenger seat. There was an uncomfortable silence in the air, and I had to hold back a nervous laugh.

The silence was broken when Anne decided to put on some music to drown out the tense atmosphere.

Matt was next to me, with a neutral expression. I looked away, starting to think he hated me. Shit, shit.

It was so dark that I couldn't tell what was going on in the backseat, and the loud music drowned out any other sounds.

Matt grabbed his phone, ignoring my existence, and I decided I wasn't going to care about it until I heard the notification sound on my phone.

Matt: Did I really need to see you two flirting?

Me: are you jealous?

Matt: Just wondering if that's why you didn't answer me.

I glanced at him, knowing what he was talking about.

Me: I don't want to go to your house. Nick will be there... with a ton of questions.

Matt: Great. Let's go to yours, I can't wait to see you.

Me: you're literally right next to me.

Matt: You know what I mean.

Me: that's not fair! If you saw my boobs then you're gonna have to show me yours too, bitch.

He looked at me, thinking about what to write and I gave him a cocky smile.

Matt: I can show you that and a lot more, baby...

Marry Christmas 🎄

[freakynote]

L LAWLIET DATING HEADCANONS

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅��� ──

Sweet Bonding

L will always share his desserts with you ,no matter how much he loves them.

„Here ,take the strawberry on top — it’s the best part. But only this time.“

Blunt Compliments

L compliments you in the most straightforward ways.

„Your intelligence is statistically higher than anyone I‘ve met.. except for me.“

Late Nights

L rarely sleeps ,so he often pulls you into late-night talks.

He wakes you up at 2 a.m. to show you how the moonlight perfectly reflects on his tea cup. "I calculated the odds of this happening again, and it's less than 2%. You had to see it."

Protectiveness in Silence

L won't say much about it ,but his actions scream protectiveness.

Like walking on the outside of the sidewalk or ensuring you have a blanket. "It’s cold. I’ll bring you some tea."

Little Games

L loves turning everyday things into puzzles or challenges.

"Guess how many marshmallows are in my tea.“

Tactile Affection

L is not big on PDA ,but he’ll absentmindedly hold your hand while working.

"I work better this way.“

Attention to Detail

L remembers even the smallest things about you ,from your favorite snacks to how you like your tea.

"I brought this brand of cookies because I noticed you finish them faster than others."

Overthinking Love

L overanalyzes everything ,sometimes even your relationship ,but it’s only because he wants you to be happy.

"Do you think spending time apart will increase our fondness for each other by 7% or decrease it by 12%?"

Surprising Gentleness

L is despite his cold exterior incredibly gentle and thoughtful during emotional moments.

When you’re upset ,L quietly sits beside you ,offering your favorite snack without a word until you’re ready to talk. "Comfort can be offered in silence. Does this help?“

requests are open! <3

[always-a-joyful-note]

Okay okay. I've recovered a little from hearing Arcane s2 in 2024 (ARCANE S2 IN 2024!!!!) and I just want to take a moment to remember why Arcane is actually the animated show of the 2020s.

Because you have excellent, unique animation with a killer artstyle, incredible action sequences, incredible movement, just...AGH. The THEMES about two different parts of one country at war, the way it affects the innocent, the way neither Piltover or Zaun are overly romanticised or vilified. Like they understand that no one class or race or whatever is better than the other, and they portrayed that so well with the heroes and villains coming from BOTH places and having complicated motivations for their actions but also being good and hurt and broken and SO, SO human. And the way they meet and relate to each other and bond and make friendships and connections and feel affection and love and attraction that shows us that in these Big Happenings and the emergence of Technology That Will Change things life still goes on. The way they treat Jinx's breakdown with so much love for the character, not romanticising her madness and breakdown but showing how in spite of the way she spirals she can STILL be loved (by us, the audience! and also by her sister!). And the father and daughter relationships shown, the way that just because you love someone doesn't make you a good person but loving someone will inevitably make you better or show others that there was something in you that COULD have gone well.

And I could ramble on about representations of mental health, diverse people groups, yordles (love how they were randomly thrown in with no explanation except the fact that they hold Lore), disability, and on and on. Except really, what made me fall in love with Arcane was just that it understood it was a story, and it wanted to tell a story about characters that people had loved throughout years of gameplay and make people just getting into LoL fall in love with them too.

[squidbian-ink]

finally got around to making a new pfp for myself... it's me but as my squid kid avatar in splat 3✌️ (who already looks exactly like me anyway LMAO)

[pirateshavefeelingstoo]

I want some fucking privacy. I have none here. I want to be able to talk to someone on the phone and have it be private. I want to be able to hang out with someone in my own room and have it be private. I want to be able to be alone. I don’t want my being alone to be contingent on other people going to bed. Or going to work. Or being out of the house. I want to be able to have feelings in private. I want to be sick in private. I want to be able to remove myself from situations where I feel overwhelmed or overstimulated. I want to come home from work and have a few moments of not being around anyone. I want to be able to decompress in my own space. I want to be able to cry in peace. I want to be excited about things on my own first sometimes. I want to be able to get some space when I’m angry. I just want to be able to shut a fucking door sometimes

[autism-corner]

big tragedy

[fen-the-space-dragon]

I think I’ve picked the right path for my life when I get to go outside and see all this cool stuff

And then I get to go back inside and listen to a dnd podcast while looking through trail cam photos and find that in addition to bikers (so many bikers. Do not set a camera up to look for animals near a trail) there was a coyote!!

Really glad I decided to make a different decision cuz last year I was sitting inside staring at code I didn’t understand all day. Now I get to go outside and regardless of if I’m outside or inside I get to look at critters and cool plants all day :D

[luvmanifesting]

“CRAZY” things i’ve manifested from the void and my imagination.

All my family members stop aging at 22-30

Being able to endure the coldest temperatures

Being able to hear anyone from FAR FAR FAR distances

Revised my age like 3 times, i was born 2007 but permanently made myself 16

Immune to dying in any way except a peaceful death if desired

my cat living until i basically pass over (whenever i desire)

keeping everything i’ve manifested forever and if i were reincarnate i would be born with everything i had in this reality

my celebrity crush (i changed his age so it wouldn’t be weird)

Animals being able to talk to me

Everything being free for me (because i was tired of currency so basically everything for me and my family is free)

Reversed my friend’s tumor

Immune to getting any type of disease/sickness

Never a boring or dull day

Time controlling basically

Being able to stay underwater for as long as i want without coming up for air

Being able to read people like a book (no manipulation around here!!)

My english getting better (i rarely use it)

If someone has animosity towards me or is wishing harm on me (digitally,physically, internally) it will appear in my dreams and will send intense karma their way

Having a hairless body forever (except my eyebrows and eyelashes and my hair lol)

Everyday feels like 2014-2017

Being able to drive how i want and permanently avoiding all car accidents

And a lot more. sorry for the spam guys but i just wanted to put what i manifested out there since i had plenty of questions about it, if i can manifest this crazy stuff then so can you!

Until next time! (^-^)/

[cocklessboy]

The biggest male privilege I have so far encountered is going to the doctor.

I lived as a woman for 35 years. I have a lifetime of chronic health issues including chronic pain, chronic fatigue, respiratory issues, and neurodivergence (autistic + ADHD). There's so much wrong with my body and brain that I have never dared to make a single list of it to show a doctor because I was so sure I would be sent directly to a psychologist specializing in hypochondria (sorry, "anxiety") without getting a single test done.

And I was right. Anytime I ever tried to bring up even one of my health issues, every doctor's initial reaction was, at best, to look at me with doubt. A raised eyebrow. A seemingly casual, offhand question about whether I'd ever been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Even female doctors!

We're not talking about super rare symptoms here either. Joint pain. Chronic joint pain since I was about 19 years old. Back pain. Trouble breathing. Allergy-like reactions to things that aren't typically allergens. Headaches. Brain fog. Severe insomnia. Sensitivity to cold and heat.

There's a lot more going on than that, but those were the things I thought I might be able to at least get some acknowledgement of. Some tests, at least. But 90% of the time I was told to go home, rest, take a few days off work, take some benzos (which they'd throw at me without hesitation), just chill out a bit, you'll be fine. Anxiety can cause all kinds of odd symptoms.

Anyone female-presenting reading this is surely nodding along. Yup, that's just how doctors are.

Except...

I started transitioning about 2.5 years ago. At this point I have a beard, male pattern baldness, a deep voice, and a flat chest. All of my doctors know that I'm trans because I still haven't managed to get all the paperwork legally changed, but when they look at me, even if they knew me as female at first, they see a man.

I knew men didn't face the same hurdles when it came to health care, but I had no idea it was this different.

The last time I saw my GP (a man, fairly young, 30s or so), I mentioned chronic pain, and he was concerned to see that it wasn't represented in my file. Previous doctors hadn't even bothered to write it down. He pushed his next appointment back to spend nearly an hour with me going through my entire body while I described every type of chronic pain I had, how long I'd had it, what causes I was aware of. He asked me if I had any theories as to why I had so much pain and looked at me with concerned expectation, hoping I might have a starting point for him. He immediately drew up referrals for pain specialists (a profession I didn't even know existed till that moment) and physical therapy. He said depending on how it goes, he may need to help me get on some degree of disability assistance from the government, since I obviously shouldn't be trying to work full-time under these circumstances.

Never a glimmer of doubt in his eye. Never did he so much as mention the word "anxiety".

There's also my psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with ADHD last year (meeting me as a man from the start, though he knew I was trans). He never doubted my symptoms or medical history. He also took my pain and sleep issues seriously from the start and has been trying to help me find medications to help both those things while I go through the long process of seeing other specialists. I've had bad reactions to almost everything I've tried, because that's what always happens. Sometimes it seems like I'm allergic to the whole world.

And then, just a few days ago, the most shocking thing happened. I'd been wondering for a while if I might have a mast cell condition like MCAS, having read a lot of informative posts by @thebibliosphere which sounded a little too relatable. Another friend suggested it might explain some of my problems, so I decided to mention it to the psychiatrist, fully prepared to laugh it off. Yeah, a friend thinks I might have it, I'm not convinced though.

His response? That's an interesting theory. It would be difficult to test for especially in this country, but that's no reason not to try treatments and see if they are helpful. He adjusted his medication recommendations immediately based on this suggestion. He's researching an elimination diet to diagnose my food sensitivities.

I casually mentioned MCAS, something routinely dismissed by doctors with female patients, and he instantly took the possibility seriously.

That's it. I've reached peak male privilege. There is nothing else that could happen that could be more insane than that.

I literally keep having to hold myself back from apologizing or hedging or trying to frame my theories as someone else's idea lest I be dismissed as a hypochondriac. I told the doctor I'd like to make a big list of every health issue I have, diagnosed and undiagnosed, every theory I've been given or come up with myself, and every medication I've tried and my reactions to it - something I've never done because I knew for a fact no doctor would take me seriously if they saw such a list all at once. He said it was a good idea and could be very helpful.

Female-presenting people are of course not going to be surprised by any of this, but in my experience, male-presenting people often are. When you've never had a doctor scoff at you, laugh at you, literally say "I won't consider that possibility until you've been cleared by a psychologist" for the most mundane of health problems, it might be hard to imagine just how demoralizing it is. How scary it becomes going to the doctor. How you can internalize the idea that you're just imagining things, making a big deal out of nothing.

Now that I'm visibly a man, all of my doctors are suddenly very concerned about the fact that I've been simply living like this for nearly four decades with no help. And I know how many women will have to go their whole lives never getting that help simply because of sexism in the medical field.

If you know a doctor, show them this story. Even if they are female. Even if they consider themselves leftists and feminists and allies. Ask them to really, truly, deep down, consider whether they really treat their male and female patients the same. Suggest that the next time they hear a valid complaint from a male patient, imagine they were a woman and consider whether you'd take it seriously. The next time they hear a frivolous-sounding complaint from a female patient, imagine they were a man and consider whether it would sound more credible.

It's hard to unlearn these biases. But it simply has to be done. I've lived both sides of this issue. And every doctor insists they treat their male and female patients the same. But some of the doctors astonished that I didn't get better care in the past are the same doctors who dismissed me before.

I'm glad I'm getting the care I need, even if it is several decades late. And I'm angry that it took so long. And I'm furious that most female-presenting people will never have this chance.

[dollishmehrayan]

WEIRD THINGS BATBOYS DO WHEN THEY LIKE YOU ── .✦

a/n: this is a request + ask so tysm to whoever sent that but it’s (here) but anyways I’m so excited for my birthday on december 7th this year and it’s just so beautiful to see me grow up honestly and find myself. (Tags: batboys x crush!reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Excessive Flexing (Literally): Dick will "accidentally" do pull-ups in front of you. He’s already shirtless and grinning, saying, “Oh, didn’t see you there. Wanna join?”

Compliment Overload: “Is that a new hairstyle? New shoes? You look incredible. Oh, wait, you always look incredible.” He will literally point out your eyelashes looking perfect “wow so nice, your lashes are so long and beautiful.”

The Over-Helper: He suddenly insists on helping you with everything—carrying bags, opening jars, lifting heavy stuff—and does it with the biggest, dorkiest smile. “It’s no big deal, bab- I mean—uh… friend.”

Trips Over Air: He’s graceful in battle, but near you? He’s knocking over coffee cups and walking into doorframes. "I swear, I’m usually coordinated, maybe I’m falling for you?😉”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Overly Cool Persona: He tries to play it cool, acting like he doesn’t care. But then he’ll text you at 3 a.m. with, “U up? I found a meme that reminded me of you.”

Teases You Constantly: Jason’s version of flirting is lightly roasting you. “Did you really think that outfit would work today?” But if anyone else says something, he’s ready to fight.

Surprise Gifts: He’ll give you something like your favorite snack but pretend it’s no big deal. “I just had extra,” he’ll mumble, even though he went to three stores to find it.

Blushes Like Crazy: He’s all tough-guy until you compliment him, and then it’s over. He gets red and stammers, “Shut up,” while smiling like an idiot.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Awkward Genius Mode: He’s smart with everything… except his crush. Suddenly, forming coherent sentences is a challenge. “I-I mean, uh… yeah, computers.”

Googles 'How to Flirt': You’ll catch him peeking at his phone mid-conversation because he’s literally reading “Flirting 101” or reading Reddit threads on flirting gone wrong.

Coffee Delivery: He’ll bring you coffee with your exact order memorized and pretend it’s casual. “Oh, you like this too? Weird coincidence.” It’s not. He asked around for hours.

Accidentally Compliments You: He’ll blurt out, “You smell nice.” Pause. “I mean, not that I’m sniffing you or anything!” Cue him turning bright red and hiding behind his laptop.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Pretends He Doesn’t Care: He’ll act indifferent but secretly monitors everything you do. “I don’t care what you do,” he says while glaring at someone standing too close to you.

Suddenly Overly Polite: Damian, the king of sass, becomes weirdly respectful. “Would you like me to carry that for you? No? Okay. Are you sure?”

Gives You Fancy Gifts: He gifts you rare, expensive things like hand-picked flowers from the Wayne estate garden. “It’s not a big deal. Just take it.”

Random Acts of Bravery: He’ll jump in front of a moving bicycle or push you out of the way of a puddle, then act like it was nothing. “It was instinct. Don’t be dramatic.”

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Becomes an Awkward flirt: He’s smooth in public but completely loses it around his crush. “Do you need anything? No? Water? A chair?” He’s offering things you don’t need.

Over-Explains Everything: Bruce will start talking about something mundane and give a full TED Talk. “Well, you see, the Batmobile’s engine is unique because…” You just wanted to know if it had cup holders.

Subtle Touches: He’ll brush your hand “accidentally” or adjust your coat collar, lingering just a second too long. But if you call him out, he’ll stammer, “I thought you were cold.”

Silent Protector: He’ll stand silently in the background, watching like a brooding guardian angel. If anyone flirts with you, his jaw clenches like it’s personal.

Bonus: Dumb Things They ALL Do ── .✦

Group Text Fiascos: They’ll text each other for advice, and it always goes wrong.

Jason: “Should I call her pretty or hot?”

Tim: “Say she’s breathtaking. It’s classier.”

Dick: “Just tell her you love her.”

Damian: “You’re all fools.”

Bruce (accidentally replying to all): “…Delete this.”

Staring Too Long: Every single one of them will stare at you for too long, only to awkwardly look away when you notice. They’ll try to play it off, but you know they were looking.

Clumsy Idiots: They’ll all try to do something impressive—lift something heavy, show off their fighting skills—and it’ll backfire hilariously. But the effort is adorable.

[halfwayhearted]

There Beneath — Spencer Reid.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: In which everyone but you forgot his 30th birthday.

Word Count: 875+

Disclaimer/s — Happy birthday to the nerd ever! ^_^ + sunshine!reader, fluff/comfort, and… yeah, beautiful!

A/N: Based off this request, ‘Hey pook! So spencer blurb or whatever and it’s based off the “you’re 29” “im 30” “we missed your birthday?” except reader didn’t. so back to his bday and maybe reader shows up at his apt with a thing of books she KNOWS he hasn’t read and tea and his favorite coffee and stuff. #fluff #ineedspencer #iloveu’! My layout messed up on the other one and I ended up deleting it! So.

Blank stare. “No way… we missed your birthday?”

All Spencer could do was stare right back and offer a small, awkward smile, averting his gaze. They had. They all had. Except for, well, you.

You’ve had his birthday marked on your calendar for months, and you’d be damned if you didn’t go all out for your best friend’s birthday. You spent half of September secretly and subtly finding out what Spencer Reid did throughout his… rare days at home. His answer every time was that he liked to read, play chess, go out for coffee, or watch his favorite show, ‘Doctor Who’. Okay! Okay, good.

So, with that being said, you did your utmost to grab all of the wrapped presents without fail. You did it, with a grunt and muttered curses, but you did it. Slamming your car door shut, you made your way up to his apartment. The familiar brown door coming into view made your heart quicken.

Stopping right in front of his place, you knocked with the front of your foot. You heard sounds of shuffling before his door swung open. Spencer’s expression shifting from confusion to surprise as he slowly said your name, his head tilting. “Hey… how are you? What are you doing here?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “It’s your birthday. Happy birthday!” A short pause. “Please grab your presents before they fall on the floor.”

With a small laugh, the brunette quickly moves to grab them. A sigh of relief escapes your lips as the weight is lifted. Stepping back, he sets them on his table, politely inviting you inside his house.

“So, am I the first one? Or did Penelope beat me to it. Actually, wait, don’t even answer that.”

Something you can’t quite identify crosses his features, and you instantly know you’ve said something wrong. That’s when it hits you, “No.”

Spencer immediately shrugs. “It’s fine! I’m not... hurt by it or anything. They’re just busy.”

You could’ve hugged him right then, but you refrain. Instead, you slip your hand into your tote bag and pull out a ‘Birthday Boy’ pin. His expression drops, making you laugh. “Come on!”

He remains silent, simply staring at you.

“I’ll wear the birthday hat if you wear the pin.”

His shoulders slump in defeat, and he nods, his eyes widening slightly when you instantly move toward him. Your bottom lip sinks between your teeth, clipping the pin onto his sweater, making sure not to poke him in the process. “There! How’s that? Did I poke you?”

Spencer shakes his head, too flushed to speak.

Without acknowledging it, you pull out the hat, carefully sliding it over your head. With a giddy glance up at him, you ask, “Do I look silly?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“What!” You stammer, “I’m being serious! Do I?”

“You look beautiful. What’s in these?” Smooth.

“Your gifts—wait! Sit down first,” you insisted, watching how he does exactly that. You clasp your hands together in clear anticipation.

Spencer purses his lips, staring at the various wrapped boxes in front of him, unsure of which one to open first. It wasn’t that hard…

Just pick one.

Grabbing the one with light blue wrapping paper, he tenderly rips it open. His eyes widen slightly at the sight of different books—all first editions.

“How did you—” he trails off, “How?”

“How did I know? I remember you talking about it one day, so, I did some digging and I finally found them. Do you like them? Let me know.”

He traces a single finger down the spine, his smile broadening. “A lot. Thank you so much. Wow.”

Your smile grows even brighter at the sight of his widening. “Hugs afterward, keep opening!”

More of your gifts are unveiled; among them are two boxes of his favorite tea, his preferred coffee, and even a bag of sugar added in. Humorous.

This had truly made his entire day. Or, to be more precise, you had made his entire day.

Once everything was opened, he stands up and slides his hands over your waist, interlocking them behind your back while yours move to wrap loosely around his neck. “You liked everything?”

“I loved them, thank you. Really. Thank you.”

You hummed softly, “Happy birthday, Spencer.”

He says nothing but nestle his head deeper into the crook of your neck.

After a couple more minutes of comfortable silence, you quietly inquired, “Movie marathon?”

“Please. I’ll make tea, you can pick the movie.”

“It’s your birthday!” You frowned, pulling away.

“My birthday or not, you’re my guest. Choose.”

Your frown doesn’t even seem to linger at that, a smile threatening to break out on your face. You let out a huff and walk into his living room. With a glance back, you notice how much happier he seems compared to when you had first arrived.

You were certain that you’d do this for him every year. After picking the movie, he sat down beside you and set both your cups of tea on the table.

If he was being honest, he’d let you. And maybe one day, you wouldn’t just be his best friend. Not with your head resting on his shoulder, like this was just another casual evening spent together.

What’s the harm in making this, you, permanent?

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @planetpedri ! ౨ৎ

[covenofagatha]

Birthday Girl

On your 21st birthday, your friends drag you to a bar to get wasted when you decide it's a good idea to drunk-call Professor Agatha Harkness.

Word count: 3400+

Warnings: smut, fingering, oral, intoxication, mentions of underage drinking, teacher x student (legal)

“One, two, three!” Wanda chants and you and your friends tap your shot glasses on the bar counter and quickly down them. 

You gasp at the burn and they laugh at you. It’s your 21st birthday and your best friends Wanda, Rio, and Natasha had dragged you out to the closest bar to get you wasted. They had all already turned 21 the year before; you were the baby in the group. 

“Fuck, that’s disgusting,” you groan. 

“Another round, please!” Rio motions to the bartender. He sets down four more tequila shots and one is shoved into your hand. 

“Think you can get to 21?” Wanda jokes and the thought of 20 more shots makes you want to gag. 

“I might puke after this one,” you say and your friends laugh. You were never a partier in high school or college, always preferring to curl up on the couch and watch a movie. You’d only had some sips of alcohol a few times, but you had never been drunk. 

“You deserve this!” Nat shouts in your ear. “Harkness has been working you to the bone!” 

You shrug and wave your hand dismissively, suddenly uncomfortable. Agatha Harkness is your History of Witchcraft professor at Westview University. She’s known around campus for being cold to everyone and rarely giving out A’s. She expected nothing short of excellence and would not put up with excuses. Everyone was terrified of her. 

Everyone except for you. 

Something about the older woman captivated you. You were obsessed with meeting her standards, dreaming of the day she would look at you with pride. You poured over your books for her class, rereading every sentence you wrote thrice, just to try to impress her. It had taken your friends days of begging to convince you to come celebrate your birthday with them because you had a paper for Agatha’s class due in a week and you were already worried about it. 

“I don’t know how you’re surviving,” Wanda says. “I had her last semester and got a C in the class. Third highest grade. She’s the worst.” 

“She’s not that bad,” you defend, not quite sure why. Something about Agatha getting so much hate for pushing her students rubs you the wrong way. 

“Yeah she is,” Rio joins in. “I heard that she’s a real witch.”

You roll your eyes. “Can we please stop talking about her? I thought you guys brought me here to get away from school.” You take the shot that’s still in your hand and it goes down smoother this time. 

“Yes, there we go!” Rio whoops. 

Two more shots later and your head has gone completely fuzzy. You feel as if you are floating on air and everything around you is happening in slow motion. You get off your stool and immediately stumble, Wanda catching you with her arms. 

“I think I’m a little drunk,” you tell her. She laughs like it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard. 

“No shit, y/n, you don’t have to yell!” 

You didn’t even realize you had. “We should probably go back to the dorms!” You look around to see Nat chatting with some girl and Rio throwing darts at the board in the corner. 

“Not yet,” Wanda says, picking up her rum and coke. You’re not sure how she’s still drinking after she also did four tequila shots. “I’ll get you some water.” She signals to the bartender and you squeeze your eyes shut, willing your vision to go back to normal. 

When you open them, you see dark hair in the corner. Is that–? You shift so you can get a better look and feel sorely disappointed when you realize the person is not Agatha. Why are you disappointed? The thought echoes in your head for a second, and then is replaced by a sudden urge to see your professor. 

“Drink this,” Wanda orders, pressing a glass of ice water into your hand, but you’re too busy scrolling through your phone. You know she put her number on the syllabus somewhere and you are too far gone to think that this might be a bad idea. 

You feel a thrill run through you when you find it. You read the number over and over, like you’re afraid it’s going to change somehow. 

“I’ll be back,” you slur to Wanda and then step out the side door into the alley. You type the number into your phone and your finger hesitates over the call button. You know you shouldn’t. But fuck it. You press the button and lift the phone to your ear. 

It rings. And then rings again. You’re about to hang up to spare yourself the rejection when the call connects. 

“Hello?” It’s actually her. 

Your breath catches in your throat and you stand up straighter. “Professor Harkness?” 

“Y/n? Is that you?” 

“Yeah.” Shit, this was a bad idea. Even with your head still swimming, you know that. You can’t just hang up though. 

“Why are you calling me at 10:30 on a Saturday night?” 

“Um,” you say, trying to think of something. You’re definitely going to have to drop her class after this. You’ll never be able to face her ever again. “It’s my birthday?” You offer lamely. 

Agatha scoffs. “Happy birthday. Can I help you with something?”

“Oh, no, Professor, I just wanted – we’re at a bar – I thought you were – and just wanted to say hi,” you ramble, knowing you’re not making any sense, and you can almost hear her smirk through the phone. 

“Y/n, are you drunk right now?” Her voice perks up and it sounds like she’s finally interested. 

“No!” you protest. “Well, maybe a little. But I’m 21 now!” 

“What bar are you at?” 

“Jimmy’s.” It’s a local dive bar that is a popular place for Westview students to hang out at. 

“I’ll be there in ten. Wait out front.” There’s a click and then she’s gone. You stare at your phone, dumbfounded. Is Agatha coming to pick you up? Why?

You walk back into the bar and order a Dirty Shirley. The call had sobered you up a bit and if you had already drunk-called your professor, why not get even more hammered. Wanda comes back over to you and giggles when she sees the new drink in your hand. 

“Alright, time to party!” she exclaims. You pick up on the fact that she’s a little drunk as well. You stand up, vision blurring for a second. 

“I actually called an uber,” you lie, even through your hazy mind knowing that your professor coming to pick you up might sound strange to them.

Wanda pouts and then throws her arms around you. “Happy birthday,” she says into your ear and your arms tighten around her. 

“Thank you,” you breathe back. You’re close with Rio and Nat as well, but they don’t have the same bond you and Wanda do. You pull back and then go say goodbye to your other friends. 

The wind outside does very little to sober you up and you shiver from the coldness. You’re wearing a purple crop-top and a black mini-skirt, something Nat had found buried deep in your closet. You watch the time on your phone, heartbeat picking up as it gets closer to ten minutes since Agatha had hung up on you. 

And then right on the dot, a slick black Range Rover pulls into the parking lot, and you immediately know it’s her. The car stops right in front of you, the passenger window rolling down, and your breath catches. 

It’s Professor Harkness, clad in a maroon suit, wavy hair falling over her shoulders. 

“Do you need me to open the door for you, too, princess?” Agatha says, sarcasm dripping over the words, when you haven’t moved. You shake your head, partly to answer and partly to clear the fog. You settle into the seat, not missing the way Agatha’s eyes rake over your skimpily clothed body.

“You didn’t have to come get me,” you mutter, putting real effort into not slurring your words. 

She glances at you and sees you struggling with your seatbelt. She reaches over and you freeze at her close proximity. Her breath is hot against your cheek and her fingers brush your stomach as she takes the seat belt from your hand and buckles it for you. “Thought I would spare the other people you drunk-called,” she says. 

Embarrassment runs through you. “You were the only one,” you say meekly, picking at a scab on your hand. You dare to peek at her, only to find her smirking, one eyebrow quirked. 

“Oh?”

“I shouldn’t have called.” This time, it’s harder to keep your words from running together. “We were talking about you and then I thought I saw you and I just wanted to see you.” You need to stop talking, now. 

Agatha hums. “Did you, now?” She tucks a piece of hair behind her ears as she shifts the car into drive and you watch her fingers. 

“You’re really hot,” you blurt out and then clamp a hand over your mouth. Fuck. 

Instead of pulling over and making you get out, like you thought she would, Agatha simply reaches over and pats your leg. “And you’re really drunk, sweetheart.” 

The pet name makes you swoon inwardly. “Not that drunk,” you say unconvincingly. “I only had one…two…” You trail off, attempting to count the number of drinks on your fingers. Agatha stifles a chuckle. 

“Is this your first time drinking?” She asks, amused. 

“No, but it is my first time drinking this much,” you admit. “My friends dragged me out since it’s my birthday. I was going to work on the essay for your class.” 

“You were going to spend your 21st birthday doing school work?” 

“Your essay’s due in a week. I wanted to make sure I-it was good enough for you.” 

She notices your slip of tongue and her smirk sends heat down low in your stomach. “You’re always good for me. Your essays are some of the best I’ve ever read.” 

Your heart skips a beat and your face flushes. “I have a B in your class.” 

“You have an 88 in my class. That’s the highest I’ve had in years. Can’t make it too easy,” she says with a wink. 

“You could make it just a little easier,” you grumble, the alcohol clearly getting rid of any inhibitions. 

“You keep doing what you’re doing, sweetheart, and it’ll go up, I promise. I’m very impressed with the work you’ve been turning in.”

A hot flash runs through you. “Just wanna be your good girl.” And if it wasn’t clear how you feel about her now, it sure is. But she doesn’t look disgusted or creeped out, only intrigued. 

She finally stops the car and you peer out the window, expecting to see your dorm. You haven’t been paying attention to where she’s been driving at all, and you’re quite surprised to see you’ve arrived at a two-story house in a cute, suburban neighborhood. 

“This isn’t where I live,” you say dumbly. 

“No, it’s not,” she agrees, getting out of the car and walking over to help you. You stumble up the steps to the front door, Agatha’s tight grip on your shoulder keeping you upright. You can feel her fingers playing with the ends of your hair. 

She unlocks the front door just as a wave of nausea hits you. “Oh, god,” you say weakly, holding a hand in front of your mouth. Agatha doesn’t even seem phased; she leads you to a bathroom in the hall and leaves, only to re-enter with a glass of water moments later. You gulp it down and feel better. 

“You okay?” she asks softly, stroking your cheek, eyes tracing up and down your face. You’ve never seen this side of her and you really like it. 

“I think so. Thank you again,” you murmur and you realize that you’ve been staring at her mouth. 

“Anything for my favorite student.” 

And then, because you’re apparently determined to fuck everything up even more, you lean in and press your lips to hers. Agatha stands still for a second before you pull back, horrified with yourself. 

“Professor, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to–” 

She draws you back in for a longer kiss this time, tongue licking into your mouth. You let out a long moan and she breaks away. 

“You’re drunk,” she tells you again.

You clasp the lapels of her blazer. “I know. But I want you.” 

She softly pries your fingers off her suit and smiles. “You need to sleep. And then we can talk about this in the morning.” 

You pout and she runs her thumb over your bottom lip, slightly pulling it down. You suck her finger into your mouth, delighting in the way her eyes darken. She steps back.

“Let’s go. You can sleep in the guest room. I’ll find you some pajamas and toiletries.” Her hand on the small of your back guides you up the stairs and to the room on the right. The guest room is simple but cozy and you immediately go to the bed and flop onto it. “Don’t fall asleep yet,” Agatha warns and then leaves the room. 

She comes back in a few minutes, an old shirt and sweatpants in one hand and a toothbrush and toothpaste in the other. She pats your legs in an effort to get you up but you can barely move, suddenly weighed down by all the drinks. 

“Come on, hon,” Agatha says and helps you stand up. You don’t move as she works to take your shirt and skirt off, your cheeks and upper chest flushing red. You try to cover yourself and she smirks. 

“M’sorry,” you mumble. 

“Don’t be. I’m enjoying the view.” You stare at her longingly, silently begging her to fuck you right there and then, but she helps you step into the sweatpants and pull the shirt over your head. She watches you brush your teeth and moves the covers so you can get into bed. “Do you need anything else?” 

Your hand grabs hers. “Just you,” you try again hopefully, but she chuckles and wrenches free of your grip. 

“Good night, birthday girl,” she whispers and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. And then she turns off the lights and leaves the room.

You fall asleep immediately. 

***

Sunlight streams through the blinds, waking you up. It takes you a minute to get your bearings and then the events of last night come back to you. 

The bar. Four shots of tequila and half a Dirty Shirley. Calling Agatha and her coming to pick you up and taking you to her house. Kissing her in the downstairs bathroom. Shit. 

You groan, head pounding. You see a container of Advil and a glass of water on the nightstand beside you. You take two Advil and drain the glass, heart warming at the thought of Agatha taking such good care of you. 

And then you remember that your relationship with her will forever be complicated by your actions. 

You solemnly brush your teeth and pull back on the clothes you wore to the bar last night, neatly folding Agatha’s pajamas and placing them on the bed. You hope she hasn’t woken up yet so you can sneak out without her having to tell you how inappropriate you behaved last night. 

No such luck. The second you get downstairs, Agatha perks up from where she’s typing on her laptop on the couch.

“Good morning, darling,” she purrs, shutting her computer. You gulp, taking her outfit in. She’s wearing a robe that ends mid-thigh and the neckline drops low. 

“Hey,” you say casually, trying to hide how much you’re internally freaking out. 

“Do you want something for breakfast? I can cook you something.” She stands up and walks to the kitchen and you follow like a lost puppy. You involuntarily lick your lips at the way her hips are swaying. 

“What are my options?” Your voice is raspy, still feeling hungover. She glances back at you and her eyes dart up and down your body. 

“I can make eggs. Bacon. I think I have pancake mix in the pantry. What would you like?” 

You’re a little confused that she hasn’t scolded you yet. And then you remember something else. She kissed you. 

You swallow hard. Whatever else you may have done last night that you can’t remember, she doesn’t hate you for it. She might even want you back. 

“Are you on the menu?” It comes out before you can even realize what you’re saying. 

Agatha freezes and turns around. You shift your weight nervously, but then you see her pupils blown out. Her eyes are so dark you can barely see any blue. “What?” She asks carefully.

“You kissed me last night,” you say, a little breathless. You have absolutely no idea where this confidence is coming from. “You wouldn’t do anything else cause I was drunk. But I’m not drunk now.” 

She steps toward you and roughly grasps your hair. She tilts your head back, exposing your neck just a tad. “No, you’re not.” She regards you for a second. “You know you’re not going to get extra credit for trying to sleep with your professor.” 

You laugh. “That’s not why I’m doing this.” 

She smirks. “Good.” And then she licks a hot stripe up your neck and bites down, sucking a mark on your skin. You gasp loudly and tangle your hands into her hair. 

“Professor,” you moan and you drag her into a filthy kiss. She backs you up until your thighs hit the table so she lifts you up onto it. Your legs wrap around her to pull her closer. Agatha pushes up your crop-top and kneads your breast, thumb stroking your nipple, never once breaking your kiss.

Her hand creeps under your skirt and cups your mound over your underwear. Your hips jump on their own at the stimulation. 

“Please,” you beg. Her lips curl into a smile. 

“What do you want?” Her fingers have pushed your underwear to the side and have started lazily stroking through your folds, spreading your wetness. 

“You,” is all you can say before she sinks a finger into your hole. 

“Like this?” She asks innocently, thrusting hard. 

“Yes,” you pant, quickly untying her robe so you can touch her. She’s completely naked underneath and you lean down so you can take a nipple into your mouth. 

“That’s perfect, baby,” she sighs, setting a relentless pace with her fingers after she slips another one in you. “Is this what you hoped would happen when you called me last night?”

“I’ve been hoping for this since the first day of the semester,” you answer, and she falters for a second, thrown off by your honesty. 

She pulls out of you and panic runs through you, terrified that you said the wrong thing. But she just pushes you down so your back is resting on the table and she pulls out one of the chairs from the table. 

“What are you–” Before you can finish your sentence, she leans forward and sucks your clit into her mouth. Your back arches off the table, hands rushing down to hold her in place. “Fuck, Professor!” 

She devours your pussy like she’s a starving woman, pulling all sorts of loud noises from you. 

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cum,” you chant, hips grinding on her face, trying to get the last bit of stimulation you need to send you over the edge. She knows what you need and presses her fingers inside you, curling them just right and gives your clit a hard last lick. You cum harder than you ever have before, her name on your lips like a prayer. She helps you ride through the aftershocks and then trails kisses up your body until she can kiss your mouth. 

“How was that?” she asks after you pull away to catch your breath. 

“That was probably the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten,” you say, which cracks both of you up. “But I’m not finished.” 

Her eyebrow quirks up and she smirks. “Oh?” You stand up, putting your hands on her hips and flipping her around so she’s leaning against the table. 

You sink to your knees in front of you, not even bothering with a chair. You slowly push her robe up so it bunches at her waist. “Can I return the favor?” 

A glint appears in her eye and she fists one of her hands in your hair preemptively. “I’d like nothing more.” 

[queenofwands89]

Quiet Affections

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Pilot!reader

Summary: After her friends tease her about Jake having a crush on her, Y/N reflects on certain memories that make her question whether there might be some truth to their playful jabs.

Warnings: Teasing, pining, Jake being a sweetheart, Y/N being oblivious, insults aimed at Y/N, protective Jake, mention and description of injury, anxiety, doubts, fluff.

Notes: Happy Friday, everyone! We made it! 🎉 I just hit 2,500 likes on here and wanted to thank each and every one of you who liked, reblogged, or commented on my works. It means the world to me. I’m down bad for Jake, and need him badly so I wrote this. Enjoy byeeee

You find yourself deep in the heart of the Hard Deck, the familiar hum of chatter and clinking glasses forming a comforting backdrop. Rooster, Natasha, Javy, Bob, Reuben, and Mickey are clustered around the pool table, laughter spilling freely as they take turns making shots and throwing jabs. Jake had just excused himself to go to the restroom, but not before brushing a lingering hand against your shoulder and whispering something that made you smile. This action set off a chain reaction of teasing directed at you.

"Y/N, you know Hangman’s got a huge crush on you, right?" Rooster's mustache twitches with a sly smile as he lines up for his shot.

You laugh it off, waving a hand dismissively. "Oh please, Bradley. Jake? No way. He's just... nice."

Rooster and Natasha exchange glances before Natasha cocks an eyebrow at you. "Nice? Hangman is many things, but nice isn't the first word I'd use. Unless he’s talking to you," she remarks, tapping her cue stick against her palm.

Bob, always the quiet observer, chimes in. "He's got a point though, Y/N. I've seen how he looks at you."

You can't help but roll your eyes. "I'm just completely unaware of it," you say, sarcasm dripping from your voice. "You guys are ridiculous."

Mickey grins, his boyish charm lighting up his face. "Maybe, but can you really deny the way he's always got your back?" he asks, leaning casually against the pool table.

Your first instinct is to rebut, but as their words settle in, you start to think about some of the things Jake had done for you. Not just the grand gestures like saving your hide in aerial combat, but the small, everyday things. The way he'd always save you a seat, bring you coffee exactly how you like it, offer subtle words of encouragement when you doubted yourself.

Javy steps forward, his competitive spirit twinkling in his eyes. "You're telling me you haven't noticed how he always goes out of his way to make sure you're okay?"

Reuben, good-natured but always vigilant, nods in agreement. "Hangman's not exactly an altruistic guy, Y/N. But for you? He'd go to lengths he wouldn't for anyone else."

You crack a wry smile, determined to stay firm in your denial. "He's just protective. We're teammates."

Natasha had already joined in, her voice warm yet teasing. “Don’t sell yourself short, Y/N. It’s not just about being teammates. He genuinely cares.”

In the ensuing silence, you can't help but ponder on their words. Jake "Hangman" Seresin is charismatic and assertive, traits forged from his exceptional flying skills and competitive nature. But beneath that cocky exterior, there lies a heart incredibly loving and caring, willing to sacrifice anything for his loved ones. Slowly, you find yourself drifting into a vivid memory, reliving the countless cherished moments and experiences you've shared with Jake.

You recall that evening at the Hard Deck vividly. The bar was buzzing with the usual chatter and laughter, the hum of camaraderie filling the air. You were amidst your friends, enjoying the rare downtime when an unfamiliar voice cut through the noise—this stranger making an offhand but cruel remark about you. The comment was subtle, yet it stung deeply, rooting you in place with a mix of shock and mortification. Your cheeks burned under the weight of the ridicule, words lodged in your throat.

Before you could muster a response, you felt Jake's presence beside you, solid and reassuring. He stepped forward, placing himself between you and the offender. His usual easy going demeanor was replaced by a steely resolve, his eyes dark with anger. "Do us all a favor and think before you speak," he said, his voice steady but carrying an unmistakable edge.

The bar fell into an uneasy silence as Jake’s glare pinned the offender in place. "If you've got a problem with Y/N," he continued, his voice low and unwavering, "you’ll be dealing with me."

The tension hung in the air, thick and palpable. The offender, unable to match Jake's intensity, muttered an apology and slunk away, deflated. The moment passed, but the impact lingered. Jake remained there a moment longer, ensuring the threat had fully dissipated before turning back to you.

As he met your gaze, the hardness in his features softened, replaced by a gentle concern. He reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You okay?" he asked, his voice filled with a tenderness reserved just for you.

You felt an overwhelming wave of gratitude, the initial embarrassment giving way to a profound sense of relief. Jake had stood up for you without a second thought, his protective instinct leaving no room for compromise. In that moment, you knew you were safe, not just physically but emotionally, knowing Jake had your back. His touch and the concern in his eyes reassured you even more, providing a solace that words alone could not.

.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

Then there was the night when you couldn’t sleep, tormented by insecurities that gnawed at the edges of your mind. It was long past midnight, and you found yourself seated on the deck of the aircraft carrier, trying to get some fresh air to clear your head before the mission. The vast expanse of the ocean and the cool night breeze did little to quiet the whirlwind of self-doubt swirling inside you.

The stars dotted the sky like tiny beacons, and the waves below gently lapped against the ship's hull, but none of it brought you peace. You wrapped your arms around yourself, tense and lost in thought, barely noticing the sound of footsteps approaching.

Jake emerged from the shadows, his silhouette becoming clearer in the soft glow of the ship's lights. He paused when he saw you, his brow furrowing with concern. He looked around, ensuring no one else was around, before walking over to you with determined but careful strides.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice breaking the solitude with an edge of worry.

You hesitated, feeling foolish for bothering him. "I…I just can't stop thinking about everything that's been going wrong. I don't know if I'm cut out for this, Jake."

Jake's eyes softened, and he lowered himself to sit beside you on the cold metal deck. "Tell me more," he said gently, coaxing you to open up. His voice was so steady, so soothing, that you found yourself pouring out all your fears and anxieties—the relentless pressure, the fear of failure, the nagging feeling that you weren't good enough. With each word, you felt a weight lifting from your chest.

Jake listened without interrupting, his usual cocky demeanor replaced by an unwavering focus on you. His eyes never left your face, and his expression remained kind and attentive. "You know what I see when I look at you?" he said quietly once you had finished. "I see someone who's brave, who fights every day to be better, who cares deeply about others. You're stronger than you think, Y/N. Don't let those doubts control you."

His words felt like a balm to your soul, soothing the raw edges of your insecurities. When he reached out to brush a stray tear from your cheek, the warmth of his touch and the sincerity in his eyes melted away your remaining doubts, leaving you wrapped in a cocoon of reassurance. Sitting there on the deck, under the endless sky, you felt profoundly grateful for Jake's unwavering support and the strength he helped you find within yourself.

.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

You also remember the time when you injured your ankle during a training exercise. You had insisted on limping back to your quarters, trying to maintain your independence. But Jake wouldn't hear of it. He had scooped you up without a second thought, cradling you in his arms as if you weighed nothing. "I've got you," he murmured, his voice laced with an uncharacteristic gentleness. The entire trek back, he kept you engaged in light-hearted banter, ensuring your mind stayed off the pain.

.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

And how could you forget the morning he had brought you coffee? Not just any coffee, but a complex, personalized concoction—an oat milk latte with a shot of caramel, a pinch of cinnamon, and a dash of nutmeg, and no foam. You hadn’t even mentioned it to him before. "Thought you could use a pick-me-up," he had said nonchalantly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. But you knew the effort he had put into remembering such a detailed order, and it made your heart swell with an unfamiliar warmth.

These memories play in your mind like a cherished montage, each moment a testament to the man beneath the bravado. Jake "Hangman" Seresin wasn’t just the cocky pilot everyone else saw. He was a protector, a confidant, a friend who cared deeply for you, even if you had been too blind to see it before.

Returning back to the present moment amidst the lively ambiance of the Hard Deck, surrounded by the warmth of friends and laughter, you notice Jake returning from the restroom. As your eyes meet, his familiar smirk emerges, but this time there’s a tender softness in his gaze that you hadn’t noticed before—or perhaps, hadn't allowed yourself to see.

“Miss me?” he jokes, sliding back into the chaos of pool cues and friendly banter.

You chuckle, shaking off the speculative thoughts. “Like a bad habit, Seresin.”

But later, as the night winds down and the camaraderie ebbs into a quieter hum, you catch yourself glancing his way more often. The teasing remarks of your friends aren’t so easily dismissed anymore. And as Jake catches your gaze across the room, you start to wonder if maybe, just maybe, they might be onto something.

Because sometimes, the most significant realizations are the ones that had been right in front of you all along, masked by the comfort of friendship and the chaos of duty.

You smile to yourself, feeling an inexplicable warmth. Maybe it was time to see what was beyond the camaraderie, to delve into the possibilities of what if. The thought lingers, like an unopened letter, waiting for the right moment.

For now, you return to the laughter and games, but with a new awareness, a curiosity that couldn’t be easily shaken. One thing was for sure—things were going to get interesting.

-

Text divider credits: @bunnysrph

[barleyo]

Daddy's Girl.

Step Dad! Leon Kennedy X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: Don't like? Don't read! Either way, READ THE TAGS. I'm starting to get pretty weird on this blog, so expect more stuff like this! A girl has to feed her fetishes, so feel free to tag along with me and enjoy what my sick little mind thinks up. Thanks for reading!

Tags: stepcest, step-dad/step-daughter relationship, cream pie, daddy issues, use of "baby girl" and "daddy's girl," daddy kink, oral sex (f receiving), swearing, infidelity, p in v, cream pie, unprotected sex, LARGE AGE GAP (legal), 2nd person POV

Word count: 2.1k

As far as your mother was concerned, your father was worth less than the sum of his parts. He was fleeting idea, a mere concept in both of your lives ever since you could remember. Sure, you remembered a few odd Christmases with a surplus of gifts, all tagged "from Daddy," and a few daddy-daughter dates here and there, but that wasn't enough to make up for his true absence. 

It wasn't a surprise when your mom eventually left him, scooping you up with her. Just you and her, and the rare postcard that your sperm-donor decided to ship off once a year or so. It was good enough then when it was just you two finding your way in the world, but it went downhill when your mom found a new boy toy. 

Leon.

He wasn't a bad guy, by any means. Wasn't pushy, didn't make you call him "dad" or try to impose his will onto you, but his presence made the absence of your real father that much more obvious. You tried to ignore him for the most part, letting your mom have her little relationship with him to tide her over. 

But then they got married. Leon became a more permanent fixture. That was no bueno. 

You toughened it out, being cordial with him until you finally hit that mark of independence: sweet, sweet 18! The big one-eight, your ticket to freedom! 

Everything was planned out for your big day. Mom and Leon made a cake, presents were given, and all birthday wishes granted, except for one. What you really wanted, was for your dad to show up for just this one day, just this once, to have him and not just his money. 

You could never get that lucky, though, and that thought was cemented in your head when you found yourself waiting for him outside of your house. The driveway was empty, not even your mom's car was out there, she still had to head off to work. The world couldn't pause for a birthday girl, it seemed.

Stepping back inside to the house, you slammed the door behind you, practically throwing yourself onto the leather couch in the living room. The tears started faster than you could contain them, and quite honestly, you didn't want to contain them. It was your party, damn it, and you would cry if you wanted to!

"You okay, kid? I heard the door-"

Fuck. Him.

Leon's heavy footsteps made their way down the stairs, leading to his place in front of you. "(Y/N), are you crying?"

You sucked back a breath of air, steadying yourself as much as you could before speaking. 

"No, 'm not, just-- go, just leave me alone." You let your face drop into your hands, staining your sleeves with tears.

Leon, being just the right amount of pushy, took a steps next to you a placed his hand on your shoulder. "Can we talk about it? I mean, I probably know what it is, but we could- you could say whatever you need to say." His face cringed a bit at his own words, feeling like he was already fucking this up. "No judgement."

You kept your face covered but obliged, knowing that talking about it, even with Leon, would make you feel a little better.

"My dad isn't here. He's been promising for weeks that he'd show, but he isn't here."

"Oh."

Your step-dad bit his lip trying to figure out how to make you feel better. He knew you weren't exactly fond of him, but he felt a twinge of responsibility.

"Fuck 'em," Leon finally decided on. "He's a liar and you don't need him. So, fuck 'em. Why would you want a deadbeat to bring you down on your special day?" 

"Because, he's my dad," you said, like it was the most obvious thing. He was right, of course, but the absence still hurt you.

"No dad would stand up a sweet girl like you on her birthday. You only turn 18 once. A real dad wouldn't miss a birthday this monumental for anything. What's he worth, if he can't keep to his word?"

"I guess nothing." You sat up straighter, trying to make yourself calm down. "D'ya think it's, like, my fault? Why doesn't he want to see me?"

He suddenly got really serious, making his grip on your shoulder firm.

"Not at all. You are a wonderful girl. Your mom thinks so, and so do I. You are brilliantly smart, kind, responsible, sweet, gorgeous-- you're perfect and if that scumbag can't see that, then he's beyond saving." 

He loosened his grip, letting his hand fall down to your lap, a bit close to the crotch of your jeans. You didn't look down, trying to convince yourself it was an accident, but he didn't move his hand either.

His other hand came up to your face, holding your cheek and to your own surprise, you leaned into his hand. His big, calloused, confronting hand.

Fuck him.

Something snapped in you when he leaned in for a kiss. God, it was wrong, so wrong, but you were so conflicted. Is this what a father's love really felt like? Hell if you knew, this was close enough in your book.

"Hmph-! Leon..." You pulled away from the kiss, wiping at your mouth roughly to get rid of the salvia strings connecting the both of you. "This is wrong, this isn't okay, my mom-"

"Is not here." 

He placed another kiss on your lips, this one chaste and sweet, so unlike the passionate one you shared before. 

"Just you and me. I know your dad isn't here, but I am. Let me make up for him, baby." His whispers pricked goosebumps over your body, lighting a fire deep in you. "Let daddy love you. Can I show you?"

His big hand looked nearly comical resting against the small button of your jeans, pawing desperately at them. So, so, so wrong. So fucked up, so not okay, so....

"Yes," you said breathily. "Okay, I-I want you to show me. Just be careful please, 'cause.." you trailed off a bit, feeling the pop of your pants opening. 

Leon yanked them down, tossing them away quickly. "Fuck, that's good," he said, pressing his tongue flatly on your mound through your panties. 

The fabric slowly grew a wet patch that clung to you, getting sticky. He placed a soft kiss on your clothed clit, then rested his head on your soft thigh.

"Anybody ever touch you here?" he asked, running a finger over your pussy. 

You softly shook your head, mumbling out a 'no.'

"Mm, more for daddy, yeah? Gonna make you feel so good," he said, slipping your panties to the slide. His mouth made quick work, tongue already gliding up and down on your clit. 

Your face was already twisting up in pleasure, eyebrows knitting together tightly.

"That's cute," he blew cool air over your cunt, keeping his eyes on your face. "You like it? My mouth all over you like this?"

"Mhm, please- don't stop. I wanna feel it again." 

You reached your hand out to hold his head, wanting to push it down before bringing your hand back nervously.

"That's right, push my head down if you want. 'M here to make you feel good, so you use me. Just a wet mouth for you today, sweet girl."

You nodded eagerly, running your hands through his blond hair and taking taking firm purchase of a section of it. Your hands greedily pushed his face into your cunt. The feeling of his nose rubbing against your clit while his tongue dug into your tight hole made you feel fuzzy inside.

Leon was so vulgar with his noises; he almost enjoyed it more than you were. Slurp after slurp came from his mouth, accompanied by a moan or two while he tried to get himself off by palming himself through his pants. 

The sight of him was just as good as the feeling of him. You had never been taken care of so thoroughly. Leon was opening a whole new world to you, a world where you could be selfish and take, because your daddy would provide, no questions asked.

"Lemme try somethin', yeah, baby?"

He shook your hand off and spat directly on your clit, spreading the fat glob with his fingers. Tight, fast circles were traced over your bud, back and forth. It felt like hypnosis, the way he reeled your body in closer to an orgasm. 

"Daddy, please, 'm gonna cum," you said, face flushing of all color. "Your mouth, want your mouth," you shot out quickly, already obsessed with the feeling of his hot mouth tonguing you down.

He obliged, of course. How could he turn his princess down? Leon's lips again wrapped around your clit, sucking on the bud like it gave him life. 

You came soon after. You seized and convulsed and the feeling of his eyes taking you in made the waves of pleasure crash down that much harder over your body. 

"If he knew what a sweet fucking pussy you had," Leon said, licking a final stripe over it, "he'd never wanna leave."

"Wha--?"

"I said," Leon pulled away from your pussy, lifting his head to your ear, "that even your dad would wanna be tongue deep in your sweet, tight cunt. But it's all mine, isn't it?"

The sound of his belt unbuckling made you wetter, if that was possible, but it also sent a sense of realization through you.

You had your pussy in your step dad's mouth. And you liked it. And now, you would let him fuck you. And you would love it. 

"I know you're a virgin, but fuck, baby, you're so tight." His voice was grumbly and strained while he tried to push into you. "Maybe I need to eat you up a little more," he teased.

"No, I need you inside, wanna feel it now." You let yourself go completely. Here you were, whining like a brat while Leon's fat cock stretched you. The pain with sharp, but immediately worth it. He fit inside perfectly, easily hitting your sensitive spots with a few thrusts.

He hissed, feeling you clamp down on his length. "Shh, come on, gotta get used to it baby. Don't want me to cum too quick, do you?"

"Yes, I do," you whined, desperate to know for certain that you were making him feel good too. 

Leon's laugh softly rang in your ears. "No, I wanna make it worth your time. Wish I could take you all night long," he muttered, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. 

He swallowed all of your moans, slipping his tongue into your mouth while he rocked into you. He tried to find a rhythm, but he was too lost in pleasure to be neat about it. 

He'd fuck you nice and orderly another day, but for now? He just wanted to feel you gush around him, and feel your cunt get sloppy while he took you.

Your breathless moans caught his attention. He found the angle that made you get oldest and stuck with it, lifting your hips up with his hands so he could piston into your g-spot.

"Oh my god, right there! That feels-- oh my god."

"I know, baby," he said, thumbs digging into your hipbones. "Feels good f'me too. You're so good for daddy."

Your heart, and cunt, pounded the more he spoke. You were close and you knew it, you just needed him to keep talking you through it. "I am?"

"Yes, baby, you're perfect. Daddy's perfect little princess, taking my cock so good." His cock twitched, so he clenched his jaw, refusing to cum before you did. "You know what good girls get to do?"

"Hmph?" Your face was red and hot, mouth hanging open while he continued to fuck into your spongey walls.

"They cum hard on daddy's cock. Can you do that for me? Cum all on me?" He traced his hand over your cheek, letting his thumb land on your bottom lip while he egged you on.

Your body had never reacted faster, immediately creaming on his length. Your hole milked him, each contraction gripping his length and sucking the cum right out of him. 

Leon let a shaky breath out before pulling out of you, scooping the mixture of your cum in his fingers. He rubbed it between two fingers for a moment and popped it into his mouth, groaning at the taste.

You came down from your own high and looked over at him, feeling guilt pull at your chest.

"Leon."

"Hm?"

"What about mom? She's gonna freak if she ever finds out. Did we fuck up? What's gonna--"

"Hey," he said, shushing you with his finger over your lips. "She's not gonna find out and she doesn't need to know. I might be married to her, and I get why you're stressed, but what we have is different."

He pulled his finger off of your mouth and pressed a kiss to your forehead cheekily. "You're daddy's girl. That makes you special."

[lylian333]

~Yandere emperor x reader~

warning: read at your own risk, traumatizing, dark historical shits, noncon, force, many misunderstandings,sexual harrest , angst ,age gap, everything here is quite insane, historical au, he's fucking crazy, killing, insults, English is not my first langue(if there's any warning I didn't put, tell me)

words:2180

(this is not my art I found it on Pinterest, and in the comment section it's said that it was made by AI so💀)

~~

Princess (y/n) Laurier has been best friends with Princess Alyssa Everett since you both were just 6 years old. You both have many things in common, such as interests, opinions, and much more.

You both would usually hang out around each other's kingdom; you don't have any issues with her except with her father, Emperor Edward Everett. He was the hottest, most handsome man you have ever met, and you still do now.

You have had a huge crush on him that felt like butterflies inside your stomach since the day you met him, but he always has that emotionless face and rarely smiles unless at his wife, your best friend's mother. You know this from Princess Alyssa; she would complain about how cold and serious he is.

You still ignore those and try getting to know him, but he just looks annoyed or just straight-up ignores you, but you ignore it and still continue liking him. Not only that, you're not the only one; it's obvious that everyone that has met him, females and even males, all drool for him.

You still have some sense in you, and you also have to respect the Everett queen and Princess Alyssa since she is your best friend. You can't just let some love ruin the relationship you both had. You can't. She is like a sister to you. She helps you when you're confused; she protects and defends you when you were getting laughed at; she is there when you needed someone the most. It's not worth losing a relationship like this, and so your liking toward his father slowly dies down.

But things change when you grow up and start having features and curves and in the end, you become a gorgeous woman, many people are jealous of you even Princess Alyssa confesses to you about it and some desperately want you. You reject all of them since none of them are worthy of you, and you're disinterested in them.

Your intense gaze and soft complexion, with your structured face and striking presence, are on par with an iconic beauty, paired with the warmth and softness in your expression, which are very delicate. You would struggle to not look at yourself when there is a mirror.

You still have some feelings toward Emperor Edward, but you manage to hide it and be able to not think about him when talking to him.

The worst thing that could have happened was that the Queen of Everett died from childbirth while trying to give birth to the heir to the throne, but it went to a disaster. It was devastating news to hear from everyone.

The emperor was absolutely devastated and even despised the child. From that moment on he would never talk to anyone unless it was part of a duty, but other than that he would ignore the servant's advisers and even his own kids, which left Princess Alyssa depressed since she had to bear her mother's death, her father's coldness, and the baby boy that her mother lost her life to.

That week she came crying to you when you came to visit her and attended the funeral of the Everett Queen death. You decide to stay at Everett Palace for a few months before going back to Laurier Kingdom.

You promised Princess Alyssa that you'd take care of her and her baby brother, and so you did. After all, back at your kingdom and your family, you have 6 siblings, plus you, and you are the third eldest, which makes you the middle You have experience with babies after the experience of you sibling that you swear are more naughtyer when you take care of them.

In those months of staying, Emperor noticed that you had to take care of the baby boy and Princess Alyass when he found you singing a lullaby for them to fall asleep.

At that moment something in him awoke, something dark, horrible, and disgusting. He knew this was wrong, but who was there to stop him? Not even himself could do that.

From that moment on, he would try getting close to you and getting to know you better; by that, he would call you into his office or into his chamber. When talking, he would get close to you, too close, to the point that he's invading your personal space by burying his face in your hair, breathing in that sweet, gentle scent, or sucking and biting your earlobe.

You knew this was wrong. You both knew this was wrong, but you guys still continued. Your brain keeps telling you to stop and that this is your best friend's father, but your gut tells you to continue. For your best friend Princess Alyssa's sake.

At one of those meetings, you confess to him that you don't want to continue these "meetings" to respect your best friend Alyssa and her baby brother Prince James.

But when he hears that you swear you could feel the air getting tense and his face looks tense as well, and with clenched fists, he looks like he could kill someone that might have been you or others.

He then pushes you onto his office desk and forcefully rips your clothes off. All you can remember that day was just horror, pure fucking horror. It haunts your dreams, memories, and everything that you see that can somehow be related to the day you and he were together.

The cherry on top is Emperor Endward sends an arranged marriage to your kingdom between you both; you pray that your parents would reject this offer, but no. Instead, they accept it and send you a letter telling you the reasons that this could help our kingdom very much and this could give you a better future and more, but all you care about is that you're trapped with him. They also added in that they would be unable to see because of the distance of the two kingdoms and that it is time to set you free.

Oh, how you wish it were true to let you spread your wings and have your own freedom.

You hated everything, mostly yourself. You hated yourself for not being more alert and not telling anyone, not even your own family or close ones; you—you can't even describe the feeling that you're feeling at that point. You quite literally were disgusted by yourself.

You cry all day long to the point where Princess Alyssa hears it and finds you, and you vomit out all the things that happened while still crying. You wish the earth could just eat you whole, make you disappear from the earth, from this world, from this life.

You keep pressuring yourself that this is your fault for days till your hair has a few strands of white hair that you have noticed.

The wedding was within the week, and you both got married and wed. That very day and night of the "honeymoon," he slams you against the bed carelessly and forcibly spears open your legs with his hand while another pins both your head on top of your head.

You whisper near your ear,True to be told, I have actually noticed that since you were just a little girl, you always had a crush on me, so technically you wanted this to happen, so don't cry like last time, dear."

Your eyes go wide when you hear that he actually noticed. He knows that you have no words—absolutely no words.

That night was as horrible and traumatizing as the night you both had together. Princess Alyssa personally tries to help you escape; even after the marriage, she still supports you, even knowing the fact you are technically her stepmother.

But she accepted you, and you were quite stunned at how she handled the situation. Even though it was like hell, she still helped, whether by holding you while you were crying or whatever she was still there. It felt like she was starting to take care of you instead of you taking care of her like how you first promised.

In one of the many attempts of you trying to escape and her helping you with it, you both were caught, and Emperor Edward decided to punish you by isolating you and sentencing Princess Alyssa to be beheaded, his own daughter.

And you were forbidden to give her any visits after the situation. You didn't get the chance to even give her the last hug or talk or anything, not even a goodbye. You even threatened to kill yourself if he didn't allow you to see her, but he just laughs at you and tells the guards to throw you inside a dungeon where there's nothing, not even a window, so you have to rely on the fire outside.

Just like that, she's gone forever. You cry for days and refuse to eat, sleep, or even drink. The king himself has to personally force-feed you so that you don't die. You even scream and beat him as hard as you can in rage whenever you see him, but he just stands there, not unbothered. You might as well think that he doesn't even care or feel anything anymore, no remorse, no nothing, just disgusting lovesick eyes looking at you.

"I just can't get enough of you, love~"

Your life goes on until you have had enough, like enough one more year of this. You seriously don't think you want to be reincarnated into another life. You desperately want to feel things instead of being trapped in the shared chamber all day long, only allowed to go out to the garden for 1 hour to get fresh air with a few ladies in waiting and your own trusted servants near you to keep being aware of you and make sure you're not doing anything harmful to yourself or escaping.

You came up with the stupidest and most shameful idea. You decide to frame yourself for cheating on Emperor Edward and confess to him that you cheated. Making up fake clues for others to notice and gossip about, but the emperor refuses to believe it, so you told him personally.

"I cheated on you, Edward."

"You must be joking, dear. How would you even be able to do that, hm?"

but you just keep repeating the sentence, "I cheated on you."

This makes him overthink and triggers him, and he ends up struggling with you to death in the process. You still keep repeating the sentence, which forces him to grip your neck even harder till you are no longer breathing—not even a single movement, just soulless eyes staring straight.

When he realized that it was too late and there was no turning back, he let go of your neck, and you collapsed onto the ground, dead. He kneeled down next to you; finally, at this moment, he felt guilty for everything. He reflected on the things he had done to you, the amount of damage. Why didn't he think about this earlier? Maybe that could help him.

No, it's your fault for cheating on him. How dare you filthy women cheat on an emperor that has done everything for her sake? To this day he still blames you, but part of him does regret not caring what you felt and thought. He only treated you like a toy, a glass doll that would easily be broken. But he just couldn't help but love you with all his might, even if it meant hurting you.

He tried to keep your body from decomposing and rotting and would soak you in water to slow down the decomposing. He even went mad and brought you to the throne room for events, dressed you properly, stuffed you with cotton to keep you looking more alive, and said to others, "My wife is doing well; look at her, she's such a sleepy head; look at her sleeping, hehe…"

Sadly, eventually, he had no other choice but to finally bury you because your body was decomposing and smelling really bad. At the funeral, he gives a speech on how she was in his life and how he can't believe she died before him from 'sickness' and oh how sad he was and how he saw her glowing up into an elegant woman and more.

Prince James also gave a speech about how you try helping out, that he always sees her as a mother figure, and how (y/n) has always tried her best. He was innocent in all of these; as well, he even balled his eyes out when he found out that you died.

At the very last moment of seeing your face, he cupped your cheek one last time.

"Oh, how much I will miss you oh how I wish that I could go with you as well, but it's fine you don't need to worry love In my will, when I die, I'm going to be buried right next to you." He says that while chuckling while feeling remorse.

~~

omg, there are so many things I want to comment on but erm yeah this is how it is??? it could have been worse