#i love talking about them you have no idea

[samkerrworshipper]

lights are on, but nobody’s home

barca femeni x reader

it’s unedited. i’m not sorry about it, if it puts u off then soz icbf. this fic has been in my drafts since october so it was about time i finished it! combined to fics lol to get it done and its a fast paced very vague mess but have fun :) loved the idea not the execution!

warnings: kinda angsty?

Red cards exist in the game for a reason. You don’t deny that. Red cards are needed to keep people safe, to set a boundary between safe and unsafe play. But there had been something so undeniably unfair about yours.

You’d hurt somebody, you weren’t going to lie about that. It had been unintentional, but a risk you’d taken had ended up with the world’s best player being stretchered off the pitch, and for just that, you deserved a yellow. But a red, for a tackle that was mostly legal, seemed ridiculous. Tackles happened. As a defensive midfielder, it was your job to get the ball off attackers, it was your responsibility to make sure that you stopped the ball from being kicked in the direction of your keeper or down the field to another player. It was what cemented your spot in the English midfield; you weren’t just a good attacker; you were ferocious in defence. You averaged at least 5 tackles per game; it was the most crucial part of your game; it was fundamentally what made you a good footballer.

Arguing with the ref and using some particularly vulgar language definitely didn’t help your case but in your defence it hadn’t been a red cardable offence. It was all pointless though, the card had already been raised and pointed in your direction, you’d been booked, in a friendly of all games.

It was bad, you’d know that from the moment your cleats had stepped over the line, the incessant booing being directed towards you as you walked past Sarina the grim frown etched into the details of her face was enough of a sign. You were in a bad situation, but you’d just put your team in an even worse situation with a one less player on the field to continue the fight in the world cup final rematch. It wasn’t good, it was your job to make sure that your team was in the best situation to achieve success on the pitch and you’d jeopardised that. What you hadn’t realised was that action wasn’t only jeopardising your team, it was jeopardising you as a whole.

It had begun from the moment you’d gotten back to your hotel room later that night. Your teammates had focused all of their energy on trying to lift your spirits, with the game ending in a 1-1 draw, everyone was happy. The England team was your second family, and considering you didn’t play in the WSL like the vast majority of them, national team time was valuable to you. You sat next to Beth on the ride back to the hotel, happy to listen to her non-stop talking as a distraction for the disappointment that had settled inside of you. At team dinner, you sat sandwiched in between Grace and Ella; most dinners spent on your normal table, you struggled to get a word in, but it was the constant surrounding buzz that kept you out of your head and specifically off of your phone, and you were more grateful than usual that you had that. By the time you’d even made it to your room and gone through your nighttime routine, you still hadn’t checked your phone. It was only as you began to prepare yourself to get into bed that you headed towards your bag to fish it out. You climbed into bed, finally opening your phone for the first time, and instead of it having a handful of messages from your family and a sprinkle of Instagram notifications, there were thousands. Twitter, Instagram, TikTok, newsforums, both English and Spanish; as you scrolled down the list, it only got bigger. All of it was the same, about how you’d ‘intentionally’ injured your own club teammate to benefit your national team, how you were malicious, how you had played beyond the line of safe play, how you deserved to be penalised, how you had ruined sportsmanship. It was never-ending, and the more that you read, the worse it got. You felt like a shell of yourself as your eyes scanned the different words; you completely dissociated it all. It felt like you were reading about somebody else, like there was absolutely no possibility that the sentences you were absorbing could possibly be about you. There was so much falsity behind all of it that it was hard to understand it. You’d played the same you always did, you hadn’t played dangerously, you’d played within the rules as you always did. Beyond that, you’d visited Aitana in the change rooms after the game, desperate to apologise and make sure that you hadn’t done any damage or hurt her in any way. Your play hadn’t been malicious, there hadn’t been any ill intention or hatred fueled behind it, even though every single article or post was making it seem that way. Aitana had come off after the clash purely as a caution, when you’d gone to see her, all she was dealing with was a little bit of inflammation. By the time you were both back in Barcelona, she’d be as good as new. Even after watching the replays, it was clear to anybody with eyes that all you were doing was fighting for the ball, the same as every other 1-on-1 battle throughout the game. Yet as soon as a spotlighted player got injured, it was suddenly a different story being told.

Normally you would shake it off, in general, you were the kind of person who didn’t get bothered by much, You were a bubbly and happy person, you were the kind of teammate who was always smiling and trying to make other people laugh. Usually, if you had a teammate who was in the same situation as you were now, you would be the one picking them up and trying to help them shake off all of this. It wasn’t normally a struggle for you to overcome a little bit of hate, but there was something so shattering about this. Whilst you still believed deep down that you’d done nothing wrong, it was hard to convince yourself of that when there were so many people who were telling you otherwise.

You weren’t the kind of person who regularly fell into the mind numbing action of doom scrolling, you weren’t big on social media in general, it was something you had to do because of your job but not much else beyond that. Yet right now it felt impossible to deviate away from it, every time you saw your name pop up again somewhere you were drawn to another dark place of the internet where you kept reading until you were mentioned or tagged in another post and your phone lit up with a new piece of media.

It was never ending, it just kept coming, and the longer you indulged in it, the sicker you started to feel. Had you done something wrong? Were you truly as malicious as everyone wrote? Were you the bad person they were painting you to be?

It was impossible to not consider that potentially everyone else was right, maybe you were the problem.

It was a good day to be roomed with Lucy, she’d been in bed before you’d even made it up to the room and asleep whilst you’d been showering. If the sounds of snoring were anything to go off of then she was long gone, which made you feel more secure as you muffled a sob into your pillow. It was going to be fine, by the time morning rolled around it would be forgotten. Or at least that was what you thought.

The convenience of playing your games in Spain was that unlike majority of your teammates, you were able to sleep in the following morning instead of flying back to their club teams. Lucy was gone long before you woke up, something you were specifically grateful for because whilst Lucy was mostly oblivious, you weren’t sure if you would have been able to hide your red eyes and puffy face. You hadn’t had much sleep, but even in the few hours that you had managed to get, the notifiations on your phone had only multiplied significantly. Every second your phone lit up again, and for the sake of your own brain you chose to switch it off completely. If you stayed in the shower a little longer because you got so lost thinking about it all that your feet started to go numb from the water pressure there was nobody around to say anything about it. If you happened to space out halfway through your skincare and accidentally spill half of your serum down the sink it was nothing a bit of water from the sink couldn’t fix. Every time you thought you’d forgotten about it all, like you’d drifted away from everything you’d read and then suddenly it all came back to you like some sick fever dream. It was the same words that kept circulating, and every time it came back to you it was impossible to just let it go.

You were half way dressed when your door was knocked on. It was what woke you up to the fact that you had absolutely no idea what time it was or how long you’d spent spaced out and in your brain.

You weren’t shocked to find Keira waiting outside your door, looking significantly more put together then you were.

“Mate, I’ve texted you about 30 times. The taxis here to take us to the airport.”

Fuck. You’d forgotten that you were taking a group taxi instead of leaving the hotel individually.

“Give me five minutes, I slept in and forgot to pack up last night.”

Keira cut you off before you continued your ramble of excuses.

“I’ll help you pack up, you focus on getting dressed and sorting yourself out, okay?”

Keira wasn’t your closest friend, she was one of the few people on the Barcelona team that spoke fluent english which grouped the two of you together. She was also one of your idols coming through as the youngest midfielder in the English and Barcelona squad. But personality wise the two of you didn’t jell, you were too energetic and a little bit too immature to buddy up with her. It didn’t change the fact that she was basically an older sister to you. She wasn’t exactly the person you’d go to for relationship advice or confess your troubling thoughts to. But she was the person you could rely on to help you in any situation without asking questions, and this really was an extension of that.

Keira made quick work of packing up your things from around your room whilst you finished getting dressed and putting your hair in a messy bun.

By the time you’d made yourself look just enough presentable for the public eye Keira was done, all of your bags piled together at your hotel room door.

“I found your phone at the bottom of your bag, looks like you might want to charge it before the drive.”

Right now, your phone felt like a block of dynamite, balancing in Keira’s hand, ready to explode at any second.

“No, I just turned it off.”

You didn’t really think about how odd your words could sound until they’d left your mouth, and Keira’s eyebrows were raising quickly.

“You just turned it off?”

It’s an unusual behaviour for you, one that Keira has clearly picked up on by the tone in her voice. Your phone is practically an extension of you, the team didn’t joke about you having square eyes for nothing. Always getting people to film tiktoks or do stupid challenges.

“Yes?”

You actively observe all of the cogs in Keira’s brain turning, she looks like she has a lot to say, but then she glances down at her watch and it’s clear that the fact that you are running well behind time takes priority.

“Let’s go, the taxi is waiting.”

Keira practically pushed you out of the hotel room, all of your bags in her hands and ushering you straight towards the elevator.

As she’d said, the taxi is waiting in front of the lobby, the driver looks particularly ticked off as he waits outside the drivers side door, his foot tapping and a cigarette hanging halfway out of his mouth. Keira loads your suitcase into the boot of the car whilst you take your backpack off of her and hop into the back of the car, Keira follows and sits down across from you.

The first five minutes of the ride are silent, Keira flicks through her phone whilst you stare out the tinted window and pretend that you can see the things passing by.

“You can talk to me you know? I know we’re not exactly the closest, but I’m here for you.”

You don’t bother to look in Keira’s direction, you keep your eyes and facial expression schooled and focused on the window.

“Anything the media writes is bullshit, you ought to just ignore it.”

You wished you could have ignored it last night, when theoretically you were at your most vulnerable. Maybe if you hadn’t of read so much when you were already in a bad mindset it wouldn’t have imprinted so much, regardless it has and you can’t just ignore it.

“Kei, I’m fine. When have I ever cared what the papers write about me?”

Now, right now is when you care. It’s a fair statement though, you’ve never been affected when tabloids have written far worse things about you, when you came out and for months there was homophobic slander everywhere you looked. In the past it hadn’t been based off of facts, it had all been fictitious. But now that there is just a inkling of truth behind what’s being written it feels far more real and you aren’t sure how to get past that.

“I’m just saying that there isn’t anything wrong with being affected by it. Especially after last night, there’s nothing wrong with admitting that.”

This is the trouble between you and Keira, she’s a lot more frank. In your opinion it’s a thing that comes with age, whilst she’s very happy to admit when she’s going through a hard time you’d rather cover it up with jokes and pretend that it doesn’t actually bother you. The trouble with your approach is that it only works for so long before people start to see you fraying at the edges or you completely break down from the pressure.

“Just mad I hurt your bestfriend, huh?”

The only response you get from Keira is a loud exhale, the same a mother would when her child makes a immature joke at a immature time. Immaturity is your coping mechanism, because by default people tend to be put off by it, they naturally gravitate away from it. Furthermore they gravitate away from whatever conversation or confrontation they were going to have.

“I’m not mad, I’m concerned for you and how something like this can affect a persons career.”

It’s too many feelings, to much concern, too much. You don’t deserve it and you definitely do not want it.

“I’m fine, we play football, it’s part of it all.”

You still haven’t looked at Keira but you could make an educated guess and assume that she looks deflated. It’s another reason that out of Keira and Lucy you’d always gotten along better with Lucy, you didn’t care to admit it but she knew how to get to the bottom of all of your weird cues and knew what was right and wrong to say. Keira’s too smart for her own good, and it doesn’t work on you, it never has. She’s all you have at Barca now though, besides Roebs, whose been too focused on her rehab and getting back on the pitch to be much of a friend.

“Hate shouldn’t be part of it. If you need to talk about the fact that some part of it is clearly bothering you then I’m here, anybody else on the team is here. Okay?”

You nod purely for the sake of ending the conversation, you can’ even figure out how you feel about it all, let alone trying to rationalise it with Keira. You’re upset, yet you can’t quite get to the bottom of it. You’ve never been upset before when your actions have ended in somebody else getting injured, it’s a rare occurence and when it happens you feel a little bit of guilt but usually it fades. Injury is part of the game, it happens all the time right in front of your eyes. You suppose Aitana isn’t actually injured though, she’s sore and has a low grade ankle sprain but it’s nowhere near the same as her tearing her acl or breaking a bone because of you. You just feel drained, it’s odd, you put it down to the fact that you hardly got any sleep last night but you have this underlying feeling that it’s somehow more than that, yet you have no explanation for it.

After a long break of silence Keira and yourself fall into a fairly bland conversation about the upcoming fixtures and winter break plans. It’s so evident that there is tension in every word each of you speak, like you’re both a few syllables away from saying something that neither of you want to.

Luckily Keira is a lot more cautious than most people, unlike most of you friends or teammates in general she can control herself to a respectable level and can stop herself from word vomiting emotion fueled spieles.

By the time the driver pulls up in front of your apartment building not much has been said at all, but the overarching feeling is tense, it doesn’t feel good and the mixture of it with the everything else is making you feel sick. Keira gives you a hug after helping you unload your luggage and then leaves you. You know that outwardly you’re presenting that you want to be left alone yet everything in you is being used to stop yourself from clinging onto Keira and asking her to stay with you.

Your week is a lot of the same feelings. You have two days to yourself before training starts again and the two days are spent in bed. If you aren’t scrolling on your phone andreading every single thing that has your name mentioned then you are sleeping, or crying, or lying in bed thinking about it all. Every text from one of your teammates is left unopened, none of it matters when every single waking moment of your life is being spent thinking about the moment over and over again. It’s not just your career, not just the fact that you’re going to have to sit out in the next fixture and potentially tarnish your relationship with Sarina. You hurt Aitana, you hurt your ownt teammate. Your own actions had caused harm to somebody that you cared about. Every article, tiktok, post they were all painting you in some kind of negative light, like you were a demon hiding behind smiles. It was hard not to consider the truth behind it all, had you done what you did with malicious intent?

By the time training finally rolled around you were feeling even worse than you had a couple of days ago. Even though you’d been sleeping for hours a day there wer ebig eye bags under your eyes, you were pale and looked like you were sick. It was noticed by your teammates almost immediately, you weren’t even fully dressed in the change rooms before Pina was punching on you, talking rapidly in Catalan that you didn’t remotely understand.

“Chica, you missed our games night last night. To busy sleeping off the four goals you scored over the break, no? You need to leave some goals for other people.”

You shook Pina off as quickly as you could, you had a focus for the day and that was getting all of this over with. You had a game in three days, a game that you couldn’t ruin for your team again.

“Estas bien?”

You finish pulling your training top on and sit down on the bench in front of your locker.

“Estoy Bien.”

You focus on getting a sock on each of your feet and then your boots.

“Chica?”

There is concern laced in Pina’s voice, she’s still standing in front of you. Almost everybody else has made their way out onto the pitch, leaving the two of you and a couple of stragglers behind.

“You don’t look so good chica, are you feeling okay?”

Your boots are easy enough to lace up, once you’re done you reach behind you for your jacket, not quite sure if it’s warm enough to train in just your shirt.

“Estoy Bien. Vale?”

Before Pina can ask much more, you begin to walk towards the doors of the locker room. It’s breezy enough outside that you choose to put your jumper on, as do most of your teammates.

Aitana is doing individual training, because of her ankle. Pere says that it’s precautionary.

If you weren’t already feeling like you were on the brink of vomiting then now it’s the only thing you can feel. You feel ill, you feel completely absorbed by the sickness pooled at the bottom of your stomach. When Pere asks if you’re feeling alright you can’t say no, because you have no reason to feel as badly as you do. But it’s all the words, they’re spinning around in your head, every article, every single word.

It shows on the pitch, every decision, every pass, every shot, every tackle is helf back. You’re fearufl and it shows.

When training finally does finish, and Aitana is still working by herself with one of the coaches on another pitch you feel like it’s almost your breaking point. Until Pere pulls you over again and lets you know that you’ll be starting for the match on the weekend as a replacement for Aitana.

That’s your breaking point. You have nothing to say, nothing to think. You feel like a zombie as you walk towards the locker room. You sabotaged your teammate for your own good.

As soon as the team list is out that’s the only thing people will be saying, You don’t even want to think about what people will think when they see the photos of Aitana training by herself with her ankle all taped up. Whilst you were out on the pitch with all of your teammates. What was just starting to get better for you was only bound to relapse with the new information.

All of the girls notice your shift in behaviour. It’s Pina though who approaches Alexia on your third day of training back. Aitana is still training individually, purely for precaution and preservation. There are more important games then the one coming on the weekend and it’s not worth aggravating the small injury. It doesn’t feel like that to you though, and it’s been abundantly clear to everybody that something is up with you.

“Alexia, can I talk to you for a second?”

Alexia’s been talking to Irene about ….. for at least ten minutes and whilst Pina has no interest in interrupting it’s getting boring waiting around for a conversation to end that’s clearly dragging.

Alexia looks so care free, and Pina asking to talk to her shouldn’t change that, but the look that’s on her face changes Alexia’s demeanour almost immediately.

“What’s up?”

Pina looks at Irene awkwardly, like she’s not sure if the information she’s about to share with Alexia is for Irene’s ears. Irene seems to get the message, farewelling the two of them before heading off.

“I’m worried about y/n.”

Alexia’s silently been wondering whether to approach the subject. She’d thouyght about asking Keira is something had happened on England camp, considering that your particularly filthy mood had seemed to start afterwards. It was out of character for you, and originally Alexia had thought it was all part of some sort of prank plot. But as the last couple of days had passed it had become drastically clear that there was something else wrong. She’d thought it would be smarter to give you the benefit of the doubt, everyone had bad weeks. Alexia wasn’t aware of any relationships you were in but she wouldn’t have been shocked if your mood had been due to a breakup or something of similar origin.

“Ale, she’s been acting strange. She comes in everyday and hardly talks to anybody, she doesn’t joke around with use like she normally does, she hasn’t been answering our groupchat, she’s been avoiding all of our plans to hang out. Out on the pitch she’s been cautious but so unphased and she won’t talk to me or Ona or Patri or Kika or Esmee and I don’t know what to do anymore. Somethings really wrong, normally she’s so happy, I mean everyones noticed that the locker room has been more quiet. I thought it was going to pass, but she’s seemed really upset, like somethings really wrong and what’s happening on the internet can’t be helping it.”

The problem is that Alexia doesn’t disagree with anything that Pina is saying, she can’t dismiss any of it as overreaction because whether it’s been conscious or not she has noticed all of the things that she’s being told. She hadn’t yet pieced it all together as one thing but now that all the puzzle pieces are being laid out in front of her it seems impossible to ignore that it’s all coming together.

“On the internet? De qúe estás hablando?”

Alexia is the first to admit that she’s not exactly the best with technology, sure she’s got all the social media apps and Olga is constantly trying to teach her the ways of all of them but it doesn’t particularly interest her. She finds it easier to look at them as another means of work, it’s how she makes money, posting about football and endorsements. Otherwise she finds enjoyment in places besides her phone. Does it keep her slightly out of the loop? Yes. Does she have younger teammates to keep her up to date? Also yes.

“All the stuff about Aitana. I haven’t read into it much, but I know it’s not good. The media have been slaughtering her for that red card. She punishes herself enough after a bad tackle or pass, I can’t imagine what a red card would do.”

Alexia makes a mental note to look into it later but for now she knows that she needs to deescalate. Because if Pina is telling Alexia now then it’s not long before it blows up within the team.

“Okay. I’ll talk to her tomorrow after the game, if she’s still off I’ll talk to her. I’ll have a chat with Keira and ask if anything asked on camp, bueno? Whatever it is Pina, it can be fixed, all problems can be fixed. I’m sure it’s just been a rough week with all the travel and games, not everybody can adjust well, mixed with the recent fixtures it would be expected that everyone is feeling a bit more exhausted.”

It’s the rationalisation that seems to calm Pina down more, which was ultimately Alexia’s end goal. She can deal with you tomorrow but for now it’s crucial that she stops this from escalating within the team. When things spread it all becomes more drama and it’s not good, distractions are not what everybody needs leading into the next fixtures.

Alexia honestly forgets about the conversation completely. Between organising dinner the night before, stretching, spending quality time with her girlfriend and generally just getting herself game ready and in a good head space. She woke up feeling rested and prepared for the game ahead.

You however, were quite simply a mess. You’d hardly slept in over a week now, if you did sleep you woke up in a sweat after a particularly brutal nightmare, you were hardly eating because you always felt so nauseous from the anxiety and your performance on the football pitch had been dismaying.

Alexia, and your teammates, weren’t noticing the smaller things. You lived in your own apartment, in your own building. Nobody was aware of everything that was contributing to all the things that were beginning to show.

Alexia, hyper vigilant after Pina’s admission decided that she’d try and find you before everyone hopped on the bus to head to the opposing stadium, yet you were nowhere to be found. As everyone loaded onto the bus she almost missed you. Usually, you sat at the back, with the younger girls. Normally, Alexia gravitated somewhere in the middle of the bus, she was too old to be singing or messing around at the back but she liked to still be kept in the mix.

It was why she almost missed you, hunched into a seat almost at the very front of the bus.

“Chica?”

The way your whole body darted upwards as soon as you heard Alexia was another concerning thing that she was adding to a mental list.

“Capi.”

You pull your headphones off as a courtesy, but the reintroduction to the sounds of earth and the environment around you brings you right back to everything you’ve been feeling.

“Are you waiting for Kika or Vicky?”

Alexia feels like she already knows your answer, but she’s hanging on to a thread of hope that whatever Pina is feeling isn’t as bad as it seems.

“No, I need some sleep and it’s impossible to get any back there without somebody sticking something in my mouth or posting videos of me with my mouth half open.”

Alexia laughs, it’s the exact reason she can’t sit up the back anymore, it’s too much stupidity in a concentrated space.

“Ah, normally you’re more than happy to terrorize the rest of us, normalmente eres la reina de los estupidas.”

When your face doesn’t even respond slightly to Alexia and you have no witty comeback about her being boring or something else it’s another clear sign that something is up, she just can’t quite pin point what.

You’ve tuned out from her though, and as much as she is worried and thrown off, the bus is not a place to make a scene, specifically before a match. You will not take well to Alexia interrogating you and potentially causing any kind of emotional distress.

So, even though it pains her to do so, she walks on, she leaves you in the sinking ship you’re currently n in, taking on more and more water as every minute passes.

You’re at a point where you can admit to yourself that you are in no way fit to play.

You don’t want to be on the pitch, the fans don’t want you on the pitch, your teammates musn’t want you on the pitch, Pere wouldn’t have you on the pitch if Aitana was available and when you think about it the whole footballing world doesn’t want you on the pitch.

You flinch when you walk out to warm up and are met with boos, the Spanish fans are unlike all other fans, their passion is palpable and when one person starts booing everybody follows suit. It’s not even Barcelona fans, which is undecidedly worse and better. The overall impression is that you’ve aggravated the Spanish people.

It takes your teammates a couple of seconds to catch on to who it is the anger is being directed at but once they do it’s a domino affect of everybody turning to you, and then turning to each other and back to you. You try your best to not let it affect you, you’ve been booed before and have dealt with many angry fans, but when it starts to echo from the away side of the stands you honestly question if you’ve pushed yourself a little bit too hard.

Alexia regrets her decision not to say something to you when she sees the complete fear in your eyes as you look around at the crowd, who are vehemently booing you. It’s not a good feeling on any day to clearly have a crowd so against you but when you’re clearly off kilter as it is it’s clear that it all throws you off even more.

Before Alexia can think about it, she’s beelining straight to Keira.

“What happened on camp?”

Keira is just as thrown off by what is occurring as everyone else.

“England camp?”

It’s clear in the bewilderment in Keira’s face that she’s not understood what Alexia’s asking.

“With y/n, did something happen that nobody knows about?”

The booing finally comes to an end, but it doesn’t change the overall energy in which a whole crowd is sending your way.

“She was fine all camp, being an idiot with grace and beth and being her usual self. All the other games she was fine, and then after the Spain game, after the red card, she’s just been acting different. It’s like G at Man City all over again.”

Alexia understands everything that Keira’s saying, until the last sentence. Her English is pretty good, hger understanding is almost perfect, speaking less so but the last few words completely surpass her level of interpretation.

“G? Man City?”

Alexia notices you in the corner of her eye doing shooting practice, every time you miss and echo of cheers erupts.

“Georgia? Stanway? A couple of years ago, when she was young she got a stupid red card, it wasn’t pretty not dissimilar to the challenge on Aitana. Big mess with the media, got some really nasty messages.”

She doesn’t remember the moment itself, but she does remember reading something about it a couple of years ago.

“Gracias.”

You’re red hot with rage already, the crowd has you amped up. When Pere questions you in the locker room about your state of mind, you are quite literally in a blinding fury. It the kind of sadness fueled anger, youa re literally ripping apart at the seams and instead of actually feeling all of the innate anguish you are experiencing you turn it into anger.

“Why the fuck did you go to Pere and tell him I wasn’t ready to play.”

The tunnel is the only time you’ve been able to talk to Alexia, she’d been so held up with the pep talk, then talking to Pere, then giving inspiration to everybody else. But now that you have the opportunity you can’t ignore it.

Alexia’s eyes are ahead, you’re stuck standing behind her but she can hear you perfectly clear.

“After the game.”

It had taken enough effort for you to convince Pere that you were fine. You were begging for a starting spot that you didn’t even want, a spot that is actually making you feel sick to your stomach. It’s the doubt though, you doubted yourself in that stupid tackle that got you the card, so if you doubted yourself what was to stop everybody else from doubting you?

“No, what makes you think that you can talk to our coach about my game fitness without even talking to me? Do you have any respect for me at all?”

Alexia turns around, and it makes you feel slightly validated and slightly less like you’re about to punch her in the head.

“It’s not about your fitness.”

The punching in the head feeling returns pretty quickly.

“Not about my fitness? What the fuck else is it then? Just because I don’t act like a dickhead on the bus and decide to take a nap?”

Alexia gives you on final look before turning around, the look on her face only adds to your sickeningly consuming anger.

You go onto the pitch angry, which isn’t good for anything. Every time the ball lands at your feet, boos echo out. Every time you get tackled, which is fairly frequently because the opposition has chosen you as the punching bag for the game, cheers erupt. The game is easy enough, 90 percent of possession is with Barcelona, with you spot in the midfield the ball comes to you every few seconds. It’s mostly fine, for the first ten or so minutes. Until the tackles start to get rougher, and you’re mad, and the crowd is loud and everything feels so incredibly wrong.

It’s working you up at a fast rate, then the ball lands at your feet for the 50th time in the match already, and without even looking up at your defender, who three seconds before was standing right in front of you, her studs are placing themselves directly into your calf. It’s not a comfortable feeling, to put it lightly. You manage to clear the ball before you’re on your back, clutching at your leg and trying your best to breathe as the crowd cries out, your opponent mutters something aggressively in spanish and your teammates argue with the referee.

It’s all too much. Your just angry, and upset. Not even at your defender or at the tackle, just at all of it. You think in a roundabout way that this is all karma, that this is your punishment for whatever you did to anger everyone and yourself. You’re tired and fed up and want it all to go away.

You want to sink into the grass of the pitch and just disappear, it would make your life so much easier if in this moment you could just disappear and not face any of the stuff that is happening.

Then there are hands on you and you’re reminded that it’s nowhere near that easy.

“Estas bien? Necesitas la medica?”

You force yourself to stand up, push through, get it over with. You need to prove everybody wrong.

Whether you can see it or not, you are spinning out. Everybody else can see it, you’re frantic, timid and shaken. Patri is the one to put her hands on your shoulders and steady you before you try to return to play.

“You need to go off.”

Twenty minutes have passed, you aren’t going to force a sub when it is unnecessary.

“I’m fine.”

Patri shakes her head, in the same way Irene or Marta would when they are being tough.

“You are not okay, and you need to go off before something worse than that happens.”

You shake Patri off, and when she tries to come back you give her a shove.

“I’m fucking fine. I know when I can and cannot play.”

Like every other attempt that’s been made to try and stop you, she just frowns and walks away. The ref gives you a once over before allowing the game to return to play.

It’s not fine, nothing is fine. Your defender continuously gets away with dangerous tackles that should be continous yellow cards, the crowd is getting to you with every passing second. By gods grace three goals are scored in a few minutes, not only does it silence the opposition it puts you at ease a little bit. For the most part, you’re doing okay, or as okay as possible.

Until it gets to a corner.

There is two minutes of stoppage time, which have well and truly been used up. The corner is going to be the last play and it’s impact is not super important but the pressure is still there. You end up sandwiched between the two centre backs, and for whatever reason when the boot releases off of Patri’s foot from the corner instead of running to make room like you’re supposed to, you are yanked directly to the ground, with two boots stepping directly onto your legs.

It’s not agony, it’s definitely not good but you’re spending more time trying to not cry and collect air then focusing on everything else.

You can’t breathe, and you physically can’t stop the sob that leaves your mouth, it’s pathetic but it’s been building and you can’t stop it.

You don’t bother with listening to the call, or letting your teammates help you up or worrying about the play. The whistle has blown and you have one mission, to go anywhere away from people. You force yourself to stand up even though your back hurts from falling flat on it and your thighs hurt from being stomped on, and walk off.

Pere and the bench are still waiting in the dug out, normally you’d hug or talk or anything but right now the only thing on your mind is getting away, because if you don’t then what is now only tears is going to turn into a full panic attack. You’re working simply off of pure instinct, you have the shutters on and the only thing you are focusing on is your end goal and getting there. When you get to the changing rooms it’s empty, you bee line straight through to the bathroom and lock yourself in a stall before you actually let yourself think beyond the orders that have been set out in your mind.

Like everyone had said, you aren’t ready. You are living with the knowledge that because of your actions, your stupid actions you are being given a spot and opportunity that you didn’t deserve, you got it purely based off of the fact that you injured one of your teammates. Now you can’t even live up to the expectation of being a replacement.

The feeling that was initially what you had thought to be anxiety sickness builds up and all of a sudden you’re grateful your in the bathroom because within a couple of seconds you are kneeled on the floor letting your whole stomach contents out. It’s not a good feeling, you’ve been slowly descending towards rock bottom for days now but you’ve come to the realisation that this is it, this is your lowest point. Every time you think about the pitch you subsequently think about the crowd which leads you to think about everything happening inside your phone and then the sick feeling is back full force. The you think about Aitana, her ankle, her spot, her training, everything. All of that combined and all you can do is cry, it’s the only emotional outlet that you have enough energy for. You’d love to be able to punch something or throw something but you don’t have the energy, you’re running off of no sleep, hardly any food and now the fatigue of playing a half of football.

“Chica, can you open the door?”

Truthfully there are not many people you want to see in this moment or really ever again but Alexia might be at the top of the list. You’d been a little bit star struck when you’d gotten to Barcelona, you were an up and coming and to be on a roster with the best midfielders in the world was something you were in awe of. You were still slightly in awe of the fact that you were sharing a bench with two ballon d’or winners.

“I’m fine.”

You force yourself to stay as silent as possible even though it’s hard with the constant sobs building up inside of your chest.

“Please open the door.”

You’re at rock bottom and even if you try to swim out you’re going to need some help at some stage you suppose.

As soon as you open the door there is a resounding gasp, you close your eyes to keep a little bit of your inner peace whilst Alexia steps into the stall and locks the door behind her. There is just enough room for her to squeeze down on the floor next to you so she does without any hesitation.

“I don’t need you telling me that you were right to question me playing and that it was a bad idea, I’m already aware.”

You’re not sore from the match and yet everything hurts, you actually feel like your limbs are slowly being ripped off of your body and everything is being split open.

“I wasn’t going to say that, I was going to ask if you’re okay.”

It’s a complicated question.

“Physically yes.”

Your eyes are still closed, if you look at Alexia then suddenly this all becomes a whole lot more real.

“Mentally, emotionally?”

Just the question is enough to essentially demuzzle you, everything you were doing to stop yourself from crying out fails, and you start sobbing, in the loudest and ugliest way possible.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Alexia bunches up jext to you, slings an arm around your shoulders and brings you in closer.

“Don’t apologise when you didn’t do anything wrong, even if everyone else is making it seem like you did.”

Deep down you do believe you did something wrong, you don’t exactly know what but you must have, you must have done something because why else would all of this have happened.

“I hurt Aitana, I took her spot, I sabotaged her.”

The crying is cathartic, you’ve been crying for days but in an unemotionally detached way to expel some of the depression instead of actually feeling it.

“No you didn’t. You mis-timed a tackle that ended in a very minor injury. Football is a game of injuries, it happens. I don’t care what you’ve read online or what you’ve heard, the facts are simple. Anyone on our team or the england team can tell you that. Nobody blames you for what happened, not even Aitana. So you shouldn’t blame yourself.”

It’s easier to blame yourself you think.

“Everybody hates me, all I’m getting are messages about how I deserve to die and how people wish I’m never able to have kids or that I get injured as payback.”

Alexia’s deep breath makes you feel queasy all over again.

“What we’re going to do is delete all of your social media apps for the next few weeks, nothing is going to make people stop being putas, si? So for your own sake you’re going to delete all of them, turn all of your comments off, turn your messages off. There is nothing more important then your peace of mind, once that’s gone then this happens. You deserve better than this, you deserve to feel better than this. You also deserve to have fun and enjoy being a part of this team, nobody thinks you sabotaged Aitana, nobody blames you. You are just as welcome here as you were before the break, you are just as valued here as you were before the break. This stupid situation is not worth your health, si?”

You wipe away some of your tears, even though they’re still coming and nod.

“You deserve better, and until people realise that we need to focus on making sure that you know that.”

You feel specifically worthless, and it’s completely your own doing.

“Now, we need to get up before my legs go to sleep and my old body is stuck on the floor in here. Not everybody has young bones like you kids.”

You flush whatever parts of your stomach decided they wanted to resurface and force yourself to stand up, but as you do so the realisation that you are midway through a match comes back and all off a sudden you feel the need to sit down again.

“I told Pere to take you off for the rest of the game, I was coming off anyway, managing minutes. You can get dressed or shower, or do whatever you need to do and then we’lltalk a bit more about how we can turn this around. I’m serious when I say that the main focus is you right now and supporting you.”

You ignore the fact that nothing was ever mentioned about Alexia managing minutes and just accept that it’s a pointless argument and you don’t exactly mind her company right now. It’s nice to know that there is somebody shining a light for you at the end of the tunnel.

[angelltheninth]

Friends with Benefits with Love and Deepspace Men

Pairing: Zayne, Rafayel, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, creampie, friends with benefits, protectiveness, love confession, fingering, realization of feelings, denaial of feelings, mating press, desk sex, jealusy, flirting, referanced cunnilingus

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: I would legit want to be their friends. The benefit is heaing me yap about how pretty they all are and whatever my newest hyperfixation is.

FwB!Zayne always tries to keep things strictly professional beween the two of you. There's him when he is your friend and collegue and him when he's making love to you on the surface of his desk. It's easy for him to cross between the lines, one moment he's giving you advice or talking about problem he has and the next he has his hand down your underwear and the other over your mouth, keeping you quiet. He's actually very good at going between the two modes and will never cross a line without your permission. Any feelings he might develop he will only show when he's being your lover, not when he's your friend.

FwB!Rafayel hides behind the flirting he does to make you belive he;s not as serious as he is. There will always be a time for him to be your friend and listen to any problems you make have, go on movie dates with you, take you shopping and order your favorite food when you're sad. And then there is the time when he offers to take your mind off what ever is bothering you by holding you close while you ride his cock and breathe heavily against his neck. Ocassionaly you have said you loved each other, and both of you know it's true, but you want to take a bit more before your relationshp takes that next step.

FwB!Xavier gets too into his own head about the whole deal becuase how is supposed to act that he wasn't balls deep in you the night before when you walk funny in front of him. Downright impossible for him to ignore the signs you give him. And he really does try his best but he doesn't want to make it seem like he only wants you for sex so he ends up texting you a lot while you're apart. Which only confuses things more. Truly he wishes there was an easy way for him to deal with this. Perhaps the best thing is for him to confess that he wants to be your boyfriend, not just the guy who makes you come and then never talks about it again until the next time.

FwB!Sylus teases you so much that you have no idea when he wants to be your friend and when he wants to fuck. There have been times where he deliberately made you think one thing only to do the other. Mindgames like these are fun for him, and watching you get all out of sorts because of it is even better. For as many times as he's fucked you into the bed he was also the one to comfort you when you were full of doubts and wanted nothing in return. Part of him hates that you still see him as a friend after all of that but he also won't force you to see him as anything else. Besies it's only a matter of time before you do.

FwB!Caleb is too jealous to stay just friends after the very first night you spend togeteher. Stares at othe guys that flirt with you so much a few of them actually took off running in the opposite direction. He didn's spend the whole night eating you out until you could no longer scream his name just for some other guy to swoop in and take you home. Try as he might to hide his jealus side it's very much impossibe, his smile gets sour and tight every time you tell him a guy flirted with you. A man like him can only tolorate so much before he confesses to you while fucking you. Not even romantically, he growls it out while having you folded in half and just as he fills you up with cum.

[feralkwe]

the thing about being active about fandom that i think a lot of people either don't realize or even forget is that if you want people to engage with your creative work or your ideas or you characters in a meaningful way you have to engage with theirs.

i sometimes see a lot of complaining that no one engages with art, but i notice that often that person is not making any efforts to read/enjoy/encourage others. there's very little sharing of one another's work. you can't expect to be cared about if you're not also caring. it simply does not work that way.

it's not enough to write that 30k fic and slap it up on ao3/tumblr/wev. you have to read other people's fic. get excited about other people's characters. you have to engage with and talk to fellow fans. sometimes that means their work aligns with your wants and interests. sometimes it does not. sometimes it's stunning quality, sometimes it's not, but the author/artist/poser/theorycrafter is trying and making strides, and that's a great time to be as encouraging and uplifting as possible. give someone's thoughts a "yes, and?" or reblog someone's links to hype them up. leave an encouraging comment even if you didn't love something.

the kind of sharing unique to fandom requires other fans to enjoy what you share, and to do that you have to show the love you want to see. sometimes this means opening your mind and trying to see a vision beyond your own.

to be clear, fandom is not a transaction, nor is anyone entitled to your time or effort. but fandom is a community, and it means treating other fans and fan creatives as valuable members of that community. we are all here because we love the same stuff, even if in different ways. we invest in one another and all benefit when we do.

so consider making one new connection with a fellow fan. water someone's garden and see what blooms.

[likeumeanit9497]

red pill | c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: y/n is keeping score of a strange game between her friends when things get a little bit out of control ;)

warnings: SMUT; unprotected p in v; oral (m receiving); fingering; spanking; hair pulling; dirty talk; use of boner pillz; face fucking; 18+

notes: this has been sitting half-finished in my drafts since the triplets posted that one photo dump (iykyk) and i FORGOT ABOUT IT until today. when i first started writing this i couldn't decide if it should be a matt or chris fic but was obviously going through a chris phase when i started it soooo chris girlies this is for u. HOWEVER stay tuned matt girls because i plan on making a blue pill version;) anyways love y'all lots MUAH MUAH MUAH

“This is so fucking stupid.” Matt groaned, sitting in between his brothers on the living room couch, holding a single red pill delicately in between two fingers as though it was a toxin. “Bro you’re the one who came up with the idea and bought them.” Chris retorted, inspecting the identical pill in his own hand. “Yeah, and I have no fucking clue why I agreed to this.” Nick chimed in, his voice filled with misery. “Because you can never turn down a competition.” I replied cheekily from my place on the other couch, giggling at the boys’ petty arguing.

Leaning forward, I pulled my phone out of my back pocket — opening up the timer app and hovering my finger over the start button. “Now hurry up and take them dummies, I’ll keep score.” I peered up at them as they gave each other tentative looks, seemingly hoping that one was going to have a change of heart. When nothing but silence followed, they all seemed to unanimously commit, dropping the red pills on their tongues and chasing them down with soda. As soon as they swallowed, I started the timer and sat back; crossing my arms across my chest with a smirk plastered to my face.

After the guys had posted the video at the gas station where Matt was talking about his idea for the sex pills, I had jokingly messaged him saying that I would gladly keep score if they really did it. Taking my message seriously, Matt had secretly gone out and grabbed three pills before inviting me over tonight. Thinking we were all just going to hangout, I was shocked when I showed up to find the pills neatly lined up on the coffee table and the three brothers pacing around the room arguing. After plenty of deliberation, Matt finally convinced Nick and Chris, and now here they were; awkwardly looking between themselves and me.

“How long do these even take to kick in?” Asked Chris, toying with the can of Pepsi in his hand. Grabbing one of the packages from the coffee table, Matt examined it for a moment. “It says thirty minutes.” He replied, sighing and running a hand through his messy hair. “This is ridiculous.” Remarked Nick, shaking his head as though he was disappointed in everyone in the room. Still giggling, I stretched my legs along the couch. “Oh come on,” I whined, “Relax, get comfy, and let the games begin.”

𓆩♡𓆪

“Okay, this isn’t working.” Nick deadpanned, locking his phone and throwing it beside him. “Really?” Asked Chris, turning to face his brother. Dropping his jaw, Nick made a disgusted face. “Is it for you?” Chris smirked bashfully, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m feeling somethin’.” He replied, to which Matt and Nick both groaned. “What about you Matt?” I asked, eyeing his still-relaxed frame leaning against the couch. Jutting out his bottom lip, he shrugged. “No, nothin’.” Chris groaned beside him, and I couldn’t help but notice him adjust himself slightly. “Great, now I feel weird.” He said, grabbing a blanket and swiftly draping it across his lap. I laughed and slowly pulled myself up from the couch.

“Looks like you might end up being the loser.” I teased as I began tidying up the packages strewn around the room. “I will n-” Dropping to my knees, I collected torn up pieces of packaging that had gathered at Chris’s feet. Noticing that Chris’s words had been cut short and now the room had fallen into heavy silence, I glanced up at him through my eyelashes. His eyes — which from up close seemed glassy and dilated — were on me, his mouth open slightly from his disrupted speech, and even his breathing seemed slightly rapid as his chest rose and fell.

Noticing this, Nick threw his hands up in the air exasperatedly. “Chris are you serious? See I knew this was a fucking horrible idea.” His sharp words pulled Chris’s eyes away from me, and he winced at his brother. “I’m sorry,” He replied, his words aimed at both Nick and myself, “I don’t know what the fuck is going on with me.” He added, seeming to grow increasingly uncomfortable. I giggled nervously before pulling myself back up to my feet. “It’s okay.” I reassured him before bringing the packages to the garbage; using the short walk to recover from that oddly intense moment.

As I returned, I suddenly noticed Matt fidgeting in his place on the couch, his brows knit in what seemed to be anguish. With Nick scrolling on his phone and Chris burying his head in his hands, I seemed to be the only one noticing Matt’s sudden discomfort. I chuckled as I slid back into my seat. “You good Matt?” I asked, teasing him. His eyes shot up to mine, and I watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed nervously. “Uh…yeah. All—all good.” He replied, his voice thick and slightly raspy.

Glancing down at my phone, I check the timer. It had been 32 minutes since they took the pills. I smiled gently. “Right on time.” I replied, shooting him a knowing look which just made him grow even more visibly restless. My comment grabbed the attention of Nick and Chris, and they turned to look at their rosy-cheeked brother. “You too?” Nick shouted, jumping up off of the couch. Matt grimaced, shrugging his shoulders again. “It’s not like I can control it.” He replied, letting out an uncomfortable laugh. Sighing, Nick began walking towards the stairs. “Whoa! Where are you going?” Chris asked him. “Nothing is happening to me dumbass! And I will absolutely not be sitting around you two anymore now that you’re both bricked up.” He sassed as he began climbing the stairs. “Good luck Y/n!” He called as he disappeared into his bedroom.

“Looks like we’re in a 1 v 1.” I said, wiggling my eyebrows teasingly. I registered the look of torment on the faces of Matt and Chris, and decided that it would be in my best interest to hold back my laughter. “Let’s see who can make it to an hour.” I added. Chris grunted as he shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “I’ll be lucky if I make it another five minutes.” He replied, his voice also more gruff than usual. “Aww c’mon, you can do it.” I encouraged, moving to place a reassuring hand on his knee but deciding against it. As the room fell back into silence, I could hear Matt’s heavy breathing permeated by the occasional soft whine.

Although I was trying to keep things light-hearted, their overwhelming arousal was growing more and more palpable. My wandering eyes flittered from Matt’s bottom lip pulled in between his teeth to Chris’s temple coated in a sheen of sweat. As I focused on their features, it was as though their chemically-induced lust was contagious. I began to feel my own heart pounding in my chest, and I noticed a dampness in my panties that hadn’t been there before. In that silent room, all of our desires suddenly fell in sync with one another, and it was growing harder and harder to ignore.

“I need to go deal with this.” Chris suddenly blurted out, his voice laced with urgency as his focused eyes stared straight ahead. “You’re throwin’ in the towel?” Asked Matt, his lips curling into a smile infused with what seemed to be an odd combination of arrogance and relief. Chris winced as he tried to lean forward, nodding his head intensely. I watched in painful silence as he folded his hands together and pressed them against his plump lips, deep in thought. Very slowly, his eyes were pulled in my direction.

I froze under his gaze, the look he was giving me was worth a thousand words. My brows furrowed momentarily, instinctually denying what his eyes were asking me, before I felt my body begin to react. Heart pounding in my ears, I leaned back against the couch and crossed my legs; dying for some relief. “Hey—what’s going on?” Matt’s voice infiltrated mine and Chris’s stare-down. Picking up on the shift of air in the room, his eyebrows shot up. “Chris, no! That’s not how this works.” He exclaimed, turning to face his brother. Still looking at me, a smirk pulled at the corner of Chris’s lips. “We never laid down any ground rules kid.” He replied, and I felt my throat go dry.

“Well…” Matt’s exasperated voice trailed off for a moment, “Well, who said you get to fuck her?” The words sat heavy in the air around us, the reality of the situation being verbalized for the first time. I couldn’t manage to get a single word out if I tried, nor did I have the power to pull my eyes from Chris’s heady gaze. Chris chuckled, pulling himself off of the couch before slowly beginning to walk towards me. “No one,” He began, his voice suddenly menacing, “That’s up to her.” He finished just as he stopped in front of me, his frame towering above me with his tantalizing bulge directly in my line of sight.

Very slowly, he leaned down so that we were once again face-to-face. I felt my cheeks burn red from the situation I had suddenly found myself in, and the desire was radiating off of me in pulses. “What do you say?” He asked, his dilated eyes flooded with amusement. I swallowed, trying my best to re-instate my own vocal chords. Just as I was about to squeak out a response, a mindless gasp fell from my lips as Chris ducked his head down; his face buried in my neck.

My eyes fluttered shut momentarily, but once they opened they immediately landed on Matt’s tense figure sitting on the couch. His eyes were wide open, showing me just how badly he was suffering in that moment. The sheer need radiating from his gaze on me was infiltrating my mind, but the feeling of Chris’s warm breath dancing against my neck made it difficult for anything else to matter.

A whisper-soft moan slipped from my lips as Chris’s tongue delicately swiped against my clammy skin, and on instinct my hands flew to the back of his hair. Noticing my pitiful reaction, Chris chuckled against my skin. “I think I have my answer.” He whispered before pulling away from my neck and instead resuming our mind-numbingly erotic staring contest.“Matt get out.” Chris ordered, not even bothering to pull his hungry eyes away from me. As soon as Matt groaned, huffing out a disappointed “Fuck” as he headed for his room, Chris’s ravenous mouth was on mine.

I sucked in a sharp breath from the sheer dominance of his mouth. Lips tumbling in urgency, I felt his tongue toy with my lips; begging for entrance. Obliging, I moaned softly as his warm tongue flicked into my mouth, running against my own in slow, intoxicating movements. “Chris.” I panted, my voice thick with lust as his rapacious mouth began travelling down my neck. His hands snaked up my body, taking their time along my bare legs and stomach before tugging against the hem of my bunched up tank.

“Off.” He growled authoritatively. Without hesitating, I threw the thin white material over my head and let it drop to the floor. As soon as my pebbled tits were exposed, Chris’s greedy hands cupped onto them; exploring their shape as his thumbs ran along my sensitive nipples. Goosebumps raised on my skin at the feeling of his covetous, almost controlling touch. His hands and mouth moved as though he had no control over them — as though they owned the body that they were exploring.

His mouth dropped down to my chest. Taking one of my nipples in his mouth, a deep moan vibrated against my blazing skin. I laced my fingers through his hair, tugging gently against his roots as pleasure surged through my body. “Fuck, I’m so hard Y/n.” He said roughly as he nibbled at my skin. Mouth watering from the need he was exhibiting so transparently, my legs widened subconsciously as I writhed for more contact. “Let me h-help then.” I replied, my voice airy from how breathless he was making me.

Chris immediately straightened up, standing in front of me. Holding the bottom of his t-shirt up between his teeth, he began fumbling wildly with his belt. As soon as the metal unbuckled, my hands flew to his jeans, my own desperation causing me to yank down his zipper and slip his baggy pants and boxers down just enough to allow his swollen cock to spring free. As soon as the cold air brushed against his leaking tip, Chris released a gasp of relief. “Fuck, need your mouth.” He muttered, his droopy eyes peering down at me as I took in the immeasurable size of his length.

As I sat frozen in shock, the silky skin of his tip brushed against my pouting lips, snapping me out of my hypnosis. I opened my mouth, granting him the ability to place his cock on my tongue. I looked up at him through my lashes, taking in his panicky and disheveled appearance as his desperate cock pulsed against my drooling tongue. Slowly, I wrapped my lips around his girth, sucking in my cheeks lightly; earning a sharp groan and an indignant thrust of his hips. My eyes stayed glued to his as I began swirling my tongue along his swollen ridge, his salty pre-cum dissolving against my satisfied taste buds.

His jaw went slack as he watched me, deep in a trance. His hands found the back of my head, where he laced his strong fingers through my wavy hair; seeming to put up a fight against an all-consuming urge to sink all eight inches down my welcoming throat. Just as his eyes darkened, seconds from losing all self-control, I gave him some of the relief he was dying for by slowly bobbing my head up and down his veiny shaft. A long hiss escaped his mouth, his eyes burned into the sight before him — into me — as I took more and more of him in my mouth on each movement.

“Fuck.” He groaned, his words clipped, as his hands tightened in my hair. Slowly, I noticed him use his grip on my head to help guide my movements; sliding my mouth along his cock in a steady rhythm. As I looked up at him, I noticed the tension rolling throughout his entire body — his abdomen flexed, arms veiny, face reddening — caused by the self-restrain he was so obviously practicing combined with the crushing arousal that he was experiencing. To help him, I relaxed my throat and gave up moving my head on my own. He noticed my sudden lack of movement, but after scanning my face in concern for a moment, quickly accepted my wordless offering by slowly rolling his hips.

He moved gently at first, his eyes trained on mine as though he was gauging where my limitations stood. With each thrust, he slid his cock just a little further down my throat, until finally my nose was pressed taut against the sprinkle of hair along his pelvis. He held me there for a moment, looking down in awe at the sight of every inch of him buried in my warm, wet mouth. As I began tightening my throat around his shaft, growing restless, his breath seemed to grow more and more ragged — until all at once his self-control seemed to vanish.

I gasped around his cock as he suddenly grabbed my head with both hands, keeping me completely still as he began pounding his cock down my throat. Tears began forming in my eyes from the sheer force of his movements. “G-good girl.” He breathed, his eyes focused on my pink lips as they stretched to accommodate his laboured thrusts. I tried to moan — the lust emitting from Chris as he face fucked me caused my panties to flood — but my vocal chords were stifled by his ravaging cock. Instead, I turned into a zombie: my glossy eyes rolled to the back of my head as strings of saliva poured from the corners of my stretched out mouth.

Chris’s breathing grew so ragged that it was intimidating. Each rough thrust drew a guttural moan from his lips, making my head spin with desire. Suddenly, my eyes flew open in shock as Chris used his strong grip on my hair to pull me back; my head now pressed firmly against the back of the couch as he drove his cock down my throat. Unable to breathe, I entered a foreign state of ecstasy as Chris planted one of his legs onto the couch to get even deeper access; pushing me to my limits.

Just as I was about to grab onto his leg and, with pleading eyes, let him know I needed a break, the most erotic moan I had ever heard fell from his swollen lips. “G-gonna cum baby.” He groaned, his eyes fluttering shut as he seemed to focus on the overwhelming build up inside of him. Flooded with arousal, I suddenly regained the ability to take his strained, erratic thrusts. “You look so fuckin’ good with my cock in your mouth.” He groaned, his words punctuated by his sharp thrusts. I released an unsteady whimper in response, staring up at his haggard face.

“Shiiit.” Chris’ voice was drawn out as he made one final thrust, letting his cock hit the back of my throat one last time before I felt his warm seed erupt; filling my drooling mouth with thick ropes of the salty fluid as his cock twitched against my tongue. I kept my eyes on his as I eagerly swallowed his cum, and watched as his glazed-over expression of bliss switched to one much more alert and hungry.

Very slowly, he pulled his still-hard cock out of my mouth with a pop. I stayed perfectly still, staring up at him with an inquisitorial look in my eyes, and flinched when I felt his thumb run along my bottom lip to collect his spilt seed before pushing it back in between my lips. After eagerly lapping up the residue, my lips were once again engulfed by Chris’s. He moaned at the taste of himself on my tongue, and his hands wasted no time before tugging down my shorts.

He detached his lips from mine, leaving me a panting mess, as his gaze was pulled to my trembling heat. Just barely concealed by my soaking wet thong, I felt my slippery walls flex around nothing from his attention alone. Chris hooked his fingers into the waistband of my thong, pulling it down my legs torturously slow as I watched his chest rise and fall. Once I was fully exposed, the cold air against my swollen clit caused me to widen my legs; begging for his warm touch.

“So fuckin’ pretty.” Chris breathed, his voice an almost-whisper, as he ran his hands along my upper thighs. Once they reached my outer-most folds, he used his thumbs to spread me apart; admiring the way my juices dripped down to his knuckles. I trembled, feeling erotically pinned down by both his powerful hands and strong gaze, dying for him to touch me. I noticed the way he was holding me so tightly, the way his lower lip was pulled between his teeth, before his eyes shot back up to mine. “Turn around.” He ordered gruffly.

Knowing that I didn’t have the willpower to refuse even if I had wanted to, I turned around. Spreading my legs wider and bending my knees, I leaned my exposed chest against the back of the couch for support as I became more and more aware of the heat radiating off of his famished body behind me. I felt the weight on the couch shift just before I felt his hand snake up my spine to once again lace through my messy hair; the warm, wet feeling of his tongue sending aftershocks along my over-reactive skin.

His chest, now completely bare, pressed against my back as his face nuzzled against my shoulder; nibbling gently with his front teeth. Arching my back, I gasped as his free hand came around to my front; finding my clit blindly before rubbing quick circles against it. A stunned moan of relief slipped from my lips, muffled by the soft fabric of the couch, as I felt my body begin to melt under his nimble fingers. “Fuck Chris, r-right there.” I breathed, engulfed in the pleasure of his steady movements.

“You’re so fuckin’ soaked baby,” He purred against my red-hot ear, “You sure you didn’t take a pill too?” His deep voice, laced with amusement, reverberated through my scattered brain. Attempting to laugh in response, I was cut short by the unmistakable feeling of his warm tip, still glossy from my mouth, pressing against my drooling slit. “Mmm.” I groaned, writhing slowly in an attempt to pull him into me.

Noticing this, Chris chuckled menacingly against my skin. “You want my cock pretty girl?” His words shot straight to my core, and aimlessly I tried to grab his poised length in my greedy hand. Tauntingly, he pulled his hips back so his cock was out of reach. “Wanna hear you say it.” He asserted, his fingers slowing against my bundle of nerves. Whining, I turned my head so that I could see his face to my right. Lids droopy, I spoke with urgency. “Please, Chris,” I felt a string of arousal slip down my thigh, “Please g-give me your c-cock.”

With a satisfied smirk across his face, Chris kept his eyes on mine as his hand abandoned my clit. Brows furrowed from the lack of contact, I was just about to let out a dissatisfied groan when I felt the heat of his cock press against my trembling core. I watched his eyes flutter from the feeling of my folds just beginning to wrap around him, and in one swift motion, he split me in half.

Gasping, I had no time to adjust to Chris’s sinful girth before he started pounding into me. My walls stretched more than they ever had before, but welcomed his cock graciously by spilling pools of arousal along its length. “Jesus Christ.” Chris moaned in my ear, overwhelming lust clear in his voice, though it didn’t seem to reign over his powerful movements. The sloppy, wet sounds of our bodies slapping together echoed throughout the living room, their provocative recoils muddling my thoughts.

Chris straightened himself up behind me, keeping his one hand knit through my hair but placing his other on my ass cheek; pressing down so that my back was arched as much as it could be. “You’re making a b-big fuckin’ mess on me baby.” He uttered, using his grip on my ass to spread me apart; admiring the sight of his cock disappearing inside of my oozing pussy. “F-feels so good.” I moaned in response, mouth going slack as I relished in the feeling of his cock squeeze through my spongey walls.

His pace began to quicken, my cunt trembling from the new rapid pace. I could barely lift my head from the back of the couch; his cock dominated every part of me. Deep, throaty groans slipped from his mouth every few seconds, his grip on my hair tightened as he struggled to keep up his pace. “Touch yourself.” He suddenly ordered, his voice rushed and gruff. With a moan, I brought my fingers to my clit where I began to draw tight circles in sync with Chris’s rhythm.

As my bundle of nerves danced between my trembling fingers, my pleasure was profoundly intensified. “Oh god!” I cried out, my voice sounding brutish to my own ears. “K-keep going C-Chris!” I felt myself begin to crumble, my climax violently approaching. As if reading my mind, he grunts from behind me. “You gonna cum?” Unable to respond with words, I nodded my head rapidly as I chewed on my bottom lip. A sharp slap against my ass caused me to gasp, my pussy starting to convulse around his rock hard length. “That’s a good girl, cum for me baby.”

His soft words worked paradoxically with his rough thrusts and stinging slap, and I was immediately hit by an orgasm so brutal, so all-consuming, that I felt my soul drift from my body. For a moment, my body stilled, void of any sign of life, as my orgasm constricted all of my senses. I felt nothing; heard nothing; saw nothing; until a wave of pleasure, the colour of blood, came screaming at me — attacking my nerves and bringing me back to life.

My legs shook, nails dug into the couch, back contorted to the point where it looked broken, as the scream of a possessed woman spilled from my mouth. Chris tightened his grip on my hair, pulling my head off of the couch and wrapping his free hand around my mouth to stifle my uncontrollable moans. As I cried out his name into his possessing hand, his movements slowed tremendously; my spasming cunt suffocating his cock. “J-Jesus.” Chris panted from behind me, struggling to keep his composure as he slowly sunk himself into me; doing his best to drive me through my high before he lost all control.

I began to gain composure over my body as my orgasm subsided — I could feel my weak limbs and filter the words that spilled from my lips. Soft moans still escaped, however, as Chris continued to fuck me slowly; hissing between his teeth as he inched closer and closer to his own high. I felt my depleted walls continue to stretch for him, and fell into a slight hypnosis from the steady movements of our conjoined bodies.

“Turn around.” Chris’s urgent voice startled me back to my senses. He suddenly pulled his cock out of me in one quick movement, and as he did, I turned around to face him. Leaning with my back against the couch, I watched as he angled himself closer to me, pumping his red, swollen cock in his hand. After a few rapid jerks, Chris let out a deep guttural moan, shuddering before spilling his warm, milky, cum along my tits. My hungry eyes flittered between his face — eyes screwed shut in bliss, puffy lips pulled apart slightly, jaw tense — and the filthy portrait he was painting across my clammy skin.

Once a pool of his seed had collected in between my full tits, Chris released one more soft grunt before opening his eyes. They focused on his signature for a moment, before drifting up to my face; a satisfied smile pulling at the corner of his lips as he took in my spent appearance. Taking a shaky breath, he leaned down to plant a soft kiss to my lips before using his discarded shirt to wipe up the mess he had made on my chest.

“Well, that turned out to be a pretty fun game.” He whispered, his words laced with humour. My eyes followed his gentle movements across my skin; watching as he took his time and made sure he left my skin seemingly untouched. Chuckling, all of my energy drained, I looked back up at his crimson-tinted face. “Let’s thank Matt.” I replied, laughing at the repulsed expression that took over his features. “You’re sick, kid.” He retorted, shaking his head, but I noticed the shameless smile creeping over his lips.

“I was kiddingggg,” I laughed, reaching for my discarded clothes, “Do you feel better though?” I asked, to which Chris dropped his gaze to his cock — still red and standing up flush against his stomach — looking back to me with a raised eyebrow as though he was saying, ‘What’s it look like?’. Chuckling, I grab my top and begin trying to put it on. “Sorry dude, I did the best I could.” Just as my vision was restricted by the material of my top over my eyes, I squealed as I felt Chris lift me up; bending me over his shoulder as he stood up.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I asked, my voice broken by laughter as I jokingly pounded on his shoulder. He was walking, now, and I couldn’t control my childish giggles as I tried to get my tank top off of my head. “We’re gonna go take a shower.” He replied just as I felt him begin to descend the stairs leading to his bedroom. “Maybe one more time will do the trick.”

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

[imalonerdottie-arebel]

Yeah... I think this applies to the hatred of luigi supporters. If you take away luigi the human being, you take away most of his support. I just don't think silencing any of his support is a good idea. I think most of his supporters are supporting him because of *who he is*, who luigi mangione the human fucking being is. Stop with the "divide and conquer" tactic. I feel like it actually is working because most of what I see on reddit regarding luigi is negativity and hate, if not for him then for his so-called fans. If people are going to dump on ANY of his support, even if it's about how hot he is and his personal life details (as long as it's not crossing a line), that makes supporters feel ashamed and they won't post about him anymore. His "fans" are humanizing him and that's super fucking important. The more the public sees him as the human being he is, the more they will feel empathetic and not view him as a "bad guy". If we don't have anything to humanize him, then how will the public see him? Luigi is one hell of a person with a lot of accomplishments. He has bragging rights for sure. He had everything in life one could only dream of having.

The only support luigi has right now outside of his family and friends is his internet support, and that largely includes his own social media, miscellaneous internet profiles, and friends' pictures and stories that were already made public. Everybody else has turned against him - tabloids labeling him a murderer with his face on the front page, useless documentaries about how he is a heartless killer, media talking heads calling him stupid and mentally unstable, politicians and many other public figures dragging him, etc. If we're not allowed to post his pictures, videos and share stories about him, what are we left with? A husk of a person being accused of a crime. Anybody would think an empty husk of a person who is accused of killing somebody is a dangerous criminal. There are no other details to know about them, so they must be a bad person with no friends and family and no life worth living.

I do agree that people should not be harassing his family and friends. Obviously that goes without saying - anybody who has doxxed the people pictured with him, contacted his loved ones trying to get information, just any harassment at all IS insane and those people SHOULD be shamed for it. There are a few people crossing the line when it comes to his personal life, and those people don't reflect any of his other supporters. Not all of us are obsessed and unhinged lunatics.

My point is that the less public support he has will not bode well for him, and most of what I see online right now is negating his public support. Considering what he did for a living, what his interests are and his college degrees, I think it's safe to say that he is fully aware of how much of his life is on the internet. He is a very intelligent person. If he did commit the crime and if he wrote that manifesto, then he even mentioned in that manifesto how the feds won't be able to find anything incriminating about him online due to his engineering skills. These Debbie downers complaining about his life being posted on social media are out of touch.

[glitterquadricorn]

His name is Chuck - LN4

+summary: what do you get a man that can literally get anything he wants at a moment's notice? why a puppy of course! +pairing: Lando Norris x Reader +warnings: mentions a pregnancy scare, mentions cheating (no cheating happens), semi-edited. a/n: this was supposed to be out months ago... oops. I do not give my permission to have my work reposted. I do not give my permission to have my work translated. If I'm notified that you've stolen my work or claim it as your own, you'll be asked to take it down before I'll report you. End of discussion.

What do you get someone that can afford to get anything their heart desires? It seemed like nothing that came to mind was good enough. She could get him the same thing she did the first year they were together for his birthday, which was a brand new, muted orange, lace lingerie set. But repeat birthday gifts were tacky in her opinion. And it's not like she couldn't get him another one of those boudoir books because the last time she did, it led to a pregnancy scare.

Whenever his birthday did come around, they'd most likely wouldn't even be in Monaco, much less in England. It's sometimes hard to plan things around his racing schedule but she wouldn't have it any other way.

"What are you watching?"

Jumping, placing a hand over her chest, "Jesus Christ, Lando! What is wrong with you!"

Lando laughed as he walked around the couch and sat next to her, noticing she was watching the most recent video Mclaren posted of him playing with puppies. Y/n saw the corners of Lando's mouth turn upwards into a smile. It was at this moment she knew what she was going to get Lando for his birthday. Only problem was where she was going to get it and where she was going to keep it until his birthday.

"I had a lot of fun playing with those puppies," he paused. "It makes me wish we weren't so busy traveling to and from countries for races, you know?"

"I can rearrange and clear some things from my schedule so I could be with the dog at all times."

"There's no need to do that, love."

Y/n saw a flash of sadness in Lando's eyes before he rested his head on her shoulder. Despite him saying she didn't need to move things around; she wanted to because that's what you do when you love someone. So, when Lando went off to go stream with Max, she texted Alex.

y/n -> albonooo

how much do you love me?

albonooo -> y/n

what did you do?

y/n -> albonooo

it's not about what I did, but what I'm about to do.

I need a huge favor.

albonooo -> y/n

I feel like I'm about to regret hearing you out but carry on.

y/n -> albonooo

Lando's birthday is coming up and everyone knows that Lando is a hard man to shop for. Mclaren recently did a video playing with puppies and I wanted to get him a puppy for his birthday.

albonooo -> y/n

okay, so what does this have to do with me?

y/n -> albonooo

I'm glad you asked!

When I get the puppy, I need somewhere to put them until his actual birthday.

albonooo -> y/n

Why me though?

y/n -> albonooo

if you and Lily got another animal no one would question it. In case you forgot, you guys practically have a zoo.

albonooo -> y/n

fair.

Now that she had a place to put the puppy once she got it, the next step was to talk to someone over at Battersea. The first phone call she made, no one answered. No one answering wasn't that big of a deal since they were probably busy, and she'd just call back later. When she called back hours later, the woman she spoke to was less than helpful. In fact, she wasn't really directing her in the direction she wanted to go, and the frustration was growing by the minute. Her fingers rubbed her temple, wondering if getting Lando a puppy for his birthday was a good idea.

And the search for a puppy didn't get any better as the weeks went by. Every time she thought she had found the perfect puppy, something would happen, and she'd be back at square one. But just as she was ready to give up and throw the towel in, she had gotten a call from her aunt saying a friend of hers' dog had puppies five weeks ago and could come and pick one out.

There's just one issue.

This person was in England and she's in Monaco.

When she told Lando she wasn't able to attend the Brazilian GP because of a business meeting back in England, he had reassured her it was fine, but she could tell from his eyes he was a little upset. Seeing that look in his eyes made her feel guilty for lying to him since she's never lied to him about anything in their relationship. She had to remind herself that it's a gift for this birthday and it'll be one that he'll never forget.

Arriving in England, the drive to her aunt's friend's house was long since they lived pretty far out, but she didn't mind as she watched the landscape change from the bustling city where houses were stacked on top of each other to the wide-open meadows of the quiet English countryside.

Soon, the uber was turning onto the long rocky driveway leading up to a large stone home covered ivy. Standing outside was a man who she assumed to be her aunt's friend.

The man held his hand out for her to shake. "You must be y/n! My name is Richard."

"That's me," she smiled. Richard led them in the house and into the sunroom where the sound of puppies playing warmed her heart. "Oh, my goodness! They're all so cute!"

Richard stood off to the side, "If have you any questions, don't hesitate to ask."

"What breed of dog are they?" she asked, sitting down on the floor. The puppies surrounded her until she threw a ball, but there was one that didn't move from her side.

"Jack Russell Terrier." Richard smiled when the one dog that didn't move from her side crawled into her lap and fell asleep. "Seems like you've been chosen."

"Seems like it."

A warm fuzzy feeling washed over her body as she gently scratched behind the sleeping puppy. In her heart she just knew this was the dog for Lando. Pulling an orange collar from her pocket, she fastened it around his neck, making sure it wasn't too tight.

"You got a name picked out?" Richard said, pushing off the door frame, gesturing to her to follow him.

"No. I'll let my boyfriend pick a name since it's going to be his birthday present."

"A puppy is quite the birthday gift."

"Yeah, but when Lando did that video with those puppies, I could see that look of longing for a puppy, but with our schedules it was not practical for us to get a puppy. Now that things have settled a bit, I want to get him the puppy I know he wants."

Richard reached into a drawer and handed her a manila envelope. "Everything you need is in there."

"Thanks again for this. I was beginning to think I wasn't going to find a puppy in time."

"It's not a problem, y/n." Richard came from around the desk, "Let me walk you out."

The two quietly talked about how the season was going as they walked to the front of the house, but the feeling of anxiety was there. And that anxiety feeling was still there when she knocked on the door of Alex's apartment to drop the puppy and supplies off.

"Alex, please tell me I'm not crazy for getting Lando a puppy for his birthday."

Alex, who gently scratched behind the puppy's ear, "Oh! You're for sure crazy-"

From further in the apartment, Lily shouted, "Ignore him, y/n. I think it's cute you got Lando a dog for his birthday."

Alex watched as the woman shifted her weight from left to right, mumbling under her breath and waving her arms around frantically. "Y/n, listen. Lando has been wanting a puppy for the longest time, so this is a good gift."

"You think so?"

"Yes! Now head home before he finds out you've been here."

The reassurance from Alex made the anxiety she was feeling fall off her shoulders. And as she walked down the hall towards the elevator, she crossed her fingers' hoping Alex was right because at this point, there was no going back.

One of the hardest things she's ever done was keep this big of a secret from Lando. There were a few times were she nearly slipped but thankfully caught herself. But Lando clocked her nervousness and made a mental note of her odd behavior. It wasn't like y/n to act this way, so did something happen? Did she cheat and was hiding it from him?

As it got closer to his birthday, she got more fidgety, which again was not like her. Y/n wouldn't cheat on him, would she? No. She wouldn't. He knows her better than herself. Maybe it was something else, and his mind was just making things up.

Lando woke the morning of his birthday and instinctively reached over to the other side of the bed and noticed you weren't there. Instead, was a note.

If you wake up and I'm not there, I only went to pick up your birthday present from Alex. This is around the time you say, 'she didn't have to get me anything,' but I did. I wanted to. I'll be home shortly.

Love, y/n.

He laid there wondering what y/n got him that she had to go pick up from Alex. It had to have been something big that she couldn't have just kept at their place. But then again, if she did keep it at their place, he probably would've found it and ruined the surprise.

"Listen, when I left this morning daddy was still sleeping, so we got to be quiet."

daddy? what?

The door to their shared bedroom slowly opened and the head of his girlfriend peaked from around the corner to check to see if he was still sleeping and when he wasn't, the door quickly closed.

Lando tossed the covers back, walking over to the door. There stood y/n, but his eyes instantly went to the puppy in her arms. "Uh... who's dog is that?"

"You weren't supposed to be awake, but he's yours."

"Mine? What do you mean?"

"Remember when I said I had a business meeting back in England and couldn't go to the Brazilian gp? I did go back to England, but it wasn't for a business meeting. It was to go get this little fella."

"You got me a dog for my birthday?"

"Yeah," she nodded her head, handing the puppy over to Lando. "I could tell you wanted one when you did that video with puppies at MTC, so I went above and beyond to get you a puppy."

"Does he have a name?"

"I've been calling him Chuck because an actor from a tv show I watched as a kid and their name was Chuck Norris."

"Chuck. His name is Chuck."

---

tagging:

@patzammit @mrspeacem1nusone @alexxavicry @catswag22 @eugene-emt-roe @bibissparkles @cherry-piee @khaylin27 @evie-119 @green-thots @2pagenumb @myescapefromthislife @ironmaiden1313 @lottalove4evelyn @mynameisangeloflife @newlifeforus @jxnellat @loloekie @c-losur3 @czennieszn @d3kstar @reiofsuns2001 @sweate-r-weathe-r @itsjustkhaos @hiireadstuff

[kiefbowl]

wait ok genuinely kind of interested in your opinion on porn now......... if only because those big 3 you mentioned are always the reasons i see people throwing out so id love to hear a deeper take than that

I'm genuinely surprised anyone could follow me and not know my stance on porn, but that's okay. simplified and in no particular order and in no means exhaustive:

porn creates perverse incentives

porn normalizes the purchase of women as sexual objects for men to use

porn is often called "rape on tape" by feminists, which I mostly agree with in the sense that if a woman would otherwise not have had sex except that she is being paid, then she is not consenting. you cannot purchase consent, the consent is not meaningful then.

additionally, you can not verify if you are watching people be raped in any other way. porn sites are filled with stolen videos, coerced videos, actual minors, aggressive rape that was filmed with or without the victim's knowledge, and other videos of this nature. there is no way to verify this at all from videos that are somehow not these things. things like "amateur" are often just marketing by the porn company or pimp, or they're stolen videos.

porn creates a social script for sex. this social script is least of all - boring and predictable. it also reinforces the long standing conservative gender understanding (see 2). porn also reinforces ideas of homophobia and racism under the guise of "taboo." porn is literally so conservative, but because it's considered "shocking" to "puritans" (religious men watch porn all the time), people talk like it's this liberal fantasy. porn is constantly reestablishing the status quo in the most perverse ways.

it's been demonstrated that people who are porn addicts very quickly escalate to more violent porn, and that this plays out in their sex lives with their (often vulnerable) sex partners.

the violence that happens in porn is real. the idea that it's a "fantasy" is marketing by porn website and pimps. if a man slaps a woman across the face, that really happened. why does it matter if she says "yes" to it - that's her "job" so how can she say no? (see 3 and also 4).

there is so much evidence and testimony by porn stars of the absolutely awful and terrifying conditions in which they work, even in the quote unquote "real" industry. drugs, alcohol, violence, coercion, exposure to STIs, homelessness, pimping, prostitution, mental illness, suicide, lack of benefits. It's bananas that anyone would be surprised by this when it's pointed out, we're talking about an industry that films sex on video. The majority of people in the sex industry want out. It ruins their lives, and once in it's very hard to leave and lead a normal life. The idea that the industry needs regulation to be "fixed" is bizarre and just seems like pimp and porn industry marketing to get people to look the other way.

Poverty creates porn. Social welfare for the poorest of our women would prevent them from entering the industry in the first place. Women go into porn out of need, not desire. social media pushes that porn stars loooove their jobs is 1. porn site and pimp propaganda 2. literally marketing because men want to believe this.

I am not religious, I don't believe in god. I love sex and masturbation. it's the most natural thing in the world and people don't actually need to "learn" how to do it - it's innate within us. Porn is just one more way to humiliate women in a misogynist society that requires women to be fearful of sex and rape constantly, and uneducated in their own sexual desires and boundaries.

[lilylushes]

Luigi Mangione - NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): I already did h/c’s for this, but he’s amazing. He cuddles with you, praising you and leaving you kisses. Things like, “you were so good for me,” “you’re so pretty,” “I love you so much, baby.” He would get you water, put on a bath or shower and join you. He would be reading up on how to make you feel good after sex too and why it’s important for you and your relationship.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): his PhD I think his abs or shoulders. He said himself that he got his six pack because he had to change his workout routine due to an injury. He adapted and worked through his hardships. And I think he probably likes his shoulders as well. On you, I think he would love your eyes. This is a soulful man, imo. He knows that eyes are the windows to the soul and I think he would get lost in them all the time, sometimes even zoning out haha. Even when you’re just cuddling, he asks you to look at him, just so he can look into your eyes and tell you you’re beautiful. But when you’re intimate, he loves eye contact. LOVES it. It cannot be understated. He wants to see you come undone for him while he stares into your soul and you stare into his.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically): We all knew this but he has a BREEDING KINK. He didn’t talk about low birth rates for nothing, and he comes from a big family. He loves the idea of cumming inside of you to make you his. When you first said, “fill my pussy up, please,” something in him changed. He almost went feral, finishing right after the words came out of your month. His dirty talk will always include things like, “gonna breed this pretty little pussy,” “want me to fill up this tight pussy of yours,” “wanna fill you up with my babies, hm.” And speaking of, when you guys start trying for kids, you’re fucking like rabbits, even though you did before as well. You’re going at it multiple times a day in every room.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): Before you talked about having kids and before you got off the pill, he told himself he wouldn’t be mad if you did get pregnant. He knew he wanted to be with you forever and believed in divine timing. The two of you wanted to settle down, but weren’t fussed about getting married and then having kids or having a certain timeline. He often thought of what they would look like and sometimes he would mention to you a name that he liked just to see your reaction.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?): This is a tough one because I think he could be experienced but maybe not. I’m actually leaning towards him not being that experienced due to his injury and seemingly not being that into dating casually and being a nerd. I would say body count under 10 for sure, potentially less than 5. Still, he DEFINITELY knows what he’s doing. He had a book about female pleasure on his GoodReads for god’s sake. He gets off on you feeling good and finishing. He knows all the female anatomy and is always reading about new ways to please you whether it be a new pussy eating technique or a way to please your erogenous zones. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying): MISSIONARY. In this sense, he’s a traditional kind of guy. He loves all sex and all positions, but missionary is his favourite because he’s dominant and can see you coming undone beneath him. He has access to your clit, boobs, hips, neck, mouth, everywhere. He can also look deeply into your eyes the entire time which he loves doing. Eye contact is CRITICAL to this man. Oh, and he can lower himself down to whisper dirty shit into your ear. His favourite things about missionary overall are seeing the effect he has on you and being able to look into your eyes.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.): He can be goofy sometimes, but not all the time. I think goofiness would mostly happen in bed, rather than any quickies, where he’s rougher and more serious. He’ll laugh if you’re fucking at his or your parents’ place and you can’t keep quiet, or if something falls over. It puts you both at ease and make you feel safe and connected. You love when he laughs right against your lips or face.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.): We’ve seen how fast the hair on his head grows, so I’d imagine down there is similar. I’m thinking that he keeps things neat and trimmed, but not fully bare. As for you, I don’t think he’d have a preference at all.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect): I think that Luigi really sees all intimacy as something that is almost spiritual for your connection. It’s an important part of the relationship, but he doesn’t think that in a selfish way. He knows it’s so important for your partnership and relationship. Luckily, you’re both horny freaks so there have never been any issues there. I think sexually, he’s pretty traditional in the way that he loves missionary, eye contact, etc. He wants to feel as close to you as possible physically, emotionally, spiritually. But not in such a serious or intense way. He watches you closely, knows what makes you get closer to your release, and is always praising you and dirty talking.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon):

He doesn’t masturbate often because, as I said, you’re both horny freaks

If he does, it’s because you’re away or maybe after you had a baby (and he probably asked permission before lol)

For him, jacking off could NEVER beat having sex with you, EVER, so he almost never wants to do it because it’s just not that arousing

You have tried both touching yourselves in bed together, but your hands quickly wander to the other person

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks): Like I said, breeding and praise kink!!! He wants to give you his babies like yesterday. To him, making a baby together is the most intimate thing he can think of. It’s really the two of you committing to one another forever and going through something incredibly special together. I’m just also going to add that while he enjoys MAKING the baby, he’d really have that attitude throughout your pregnancy and postpartum. And yes, praise kink. Since day 1, he’s been calling you a good girl and saying how beautiful you were taking his cock. Oh, and size kink! He loves the thought of his PhD hitting your cervix and stomach. He gets hard just thinking about how you have to adjust for a second after he enters you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do): I think he likes the bed. It’s your safe place where you can try new things and be as close as possible. The bed also makes missionary more comfortable as there’s ample space for the two of you. He would like the couch too. Many of your makeout sessions during movie night turn to more and you don’t feel the need to go to the bedroom. Sometimes when you have a bath together, you’ll ride him nice and slow, which he loves. That being said, it’s not like your kitchen countertop, car, and several public places haven’t been sites for your sexcapades.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): He loves seeing you get turned on. He is all about giving you pleasure. If you even moan during a perfectly innocent kiss, the blood rushes downward. Seeing and hearing you beg for him, eye contact, and dirty talk work on him too. Even if he’s not in the mood himself, if you are, he’ll get in the mood. He knows he’s the only one who can make you feel that good, and he loves nothing more than seeing you taking his cock and talking you through your orgasm.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): Scat and piss for sure. I also think he would never be down for a threesome, like, ever. You’re his and he’s yours, in this life, and the rest. He’s not going to do anything super violent. He’ll slap your ass of course (and maybe your face idk on this one), but he’s not going to be violent with you. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.): Like I’ve said, he gets off on getting you off. Watching you come undone on his fingers or his mouth could make him cum in his pants. Our little bookworm is always reading about new ways and techniques to make you cum. That being said, he loves the sight of you on your knees, taking him in your mouth, licking the tip, or sucking his balls while pumping his length. He will ask you for BJs on occasion. You two communicate all of your needs well, including sexually. If either of you asked for or received oral, you always reciprocate, or at least offer.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): A mix! There are times when he’s slow and gentle, and times when he’s rough and fast. You both enjoy both A LOT. And you seem to be able to read each other’s mind on what you want or need on that day. Slower, gentler sex makes you both feel incredibly connected to one another emotionally, while rougher sex brings out your primal sides. Both are essential for a good relationship, so you VERY happily take part in both often. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.): You two usually have sex at home because you like to be free to make noise and let your guards down, not worrying about someone hearing or walking in. Being at home lets you really focus on the other person and how they’re feeling. But you do engage in quickies. And because you’re both perpetually horny, it’s decently often. Typically, it’ll be in your car, on a secluded beach, or in a bathroom. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.): He will if you demonstrate to him that you’re comfortable and feel safe. A lot of things are your suggestion and he’s happy to try. You’ll try things like sensation play, some light BDSM, but overall you keep things pretty tame.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?): With his back, he can’t go for as many rounds as he’d like, but the ones you do have pack a punch. Two or three rounds and you’re both exhausted, opting for a cuddle session or a bath to rest up before you’re ready for more. As for how long he lasts, it depends I think. Sometimes he will be fighting for his life not to cum in his pants while you’re grinding on him, and other times, he lasts quite a long time.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): You’ll occasionally use a vibrator, restraints, blindfolds, butt plugs, and whips or ticklers, but it’s not often. You both prefer to focus on getting the other off all on your own. You like to bring in toys sometimes to change things up and heighten sensations.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): He loves to tease. LOVES it. And he wears a big grin on his face while doing it, saying, “how bad do you need my cock, baby,” “beg for it,” “patience,” “good girls wait,” or “you want me to give it to you.” Sometimes he’ll really make you work for it. Your begging gets him off. He knows it’s a bit cruel, but it makes your orgasm even more powerful, so it’s a win-win. He’ll also tease you in public. You’ve had to leave a few family dinners early.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.): He’s LOUD. A moaner, groaner, whiner, occasional whimperer, and ALWAYS dirty talking and praising. When he comes, he groans and moans your name. When you tease him and grind on him, he whines and whimpers. He’s a vocal guy and sees making noise as a part of being intimate and letting your guard down with the other person.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character): Luigi has asked you a few times to suck him off from under his desk while he’s in meetings. Once he heard whimpering and saw you rubbing your clit while you were sucking him off. He looked under his desk for one second and had to mute his mic and go off camera for a second because it made him cum right then and there.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes): He said he has a PhD and I believe it. Also in one of his pics where he’s painted at Penn during his freshman year, his bulge is very visible and looks pretty big.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?): It’s always there. Luigi is in touch with his body, including his sex drive. It’s increased so much with you, and luckily for him, you’ve got a high sex drive to match.

 Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): He couldn’t fall asleep without making sure you’ve been taken care of. Cuddling is essential for both of you. He praises you after as well, and if you’re in the mood to talk, he will listen or talk with you. Sex involves aftercare for him, and he needs to make sure you’re satisfied and ready to rest before he can think of sleeping.

[pluralsword]

I hate to say this but this was not my 4 - 8 experience, I had some friends and there was some common ground, but there was a lot of ostracism and bullying too mostly on account of me being viewed as effeminate except when I was talking about war or combat which did not feel great as a transfem egg yknow. I just assumed it was all misogyny and not that it was also misogyny directed towards me. somewhere around 2nd or 3rd grade I saw the girls getting chased by guys and their journals being stolen and dirt thrown at them and the next grade after they're dating like it didn't happen and that was just. at the same time as seeing and being taught misogyny and fighting it tooth and nail because it was so plainly wrong to autistic about gender and power dynamics me it was just so weird. (bear in mind I was not immune, I had this weird idea by the time I reached middle school that I shouldn't wear jeans because they would mark me as a girl and thus I'd be bullied more. sigh I have definitely had some hug and comfort the inner child from those days moments).

I was treated as weird, as effeminate, for being compassionate, for being emotional, for expressing love. I was born in 1997 in the USA, mind you.

There was this one kid in first grade or second who would hit me on the head with a pencil in class repeatedly every day and the admin didn't want to anything about it and tried to blame me for the bullying. This is one of several reasons why my parents had my sibling and I learn martial arts, was because of the stuff we went through.

However- I do believe that when kids are not subjected to violent, hierarchic socialization as much, the compassion most of us have as babies can survive (there have been a lot of studies over the decades on how babies cry empathically/compassionately in response to other babies crying) and those of us who don't have that have more of a chance to learn it.

As for gender... bioessentialism can get ingrained very early on and then has to be unlearned if that happens. We don't agree with everything about the Scandinavian model of socialism (in part because it is still very hierarchic), Iceland has wisely decided that they should restructure pre-k education (which is you know, available as part of the public education system, which is a good thing) so that kids get to do activities that are associated with one oppositional binary gender role or the other one half of the day, and then the other ones the other half of the day.

If we tried to institute that here in the USA in 2025 I dunno what would happen. It was hard enough to get comprehensive gender education passed in the states that have signed it into law in the last decade and Congress over the last several decades has been abysmal when it came to passing the Equal Rights Amendment from the 70s, which is to say they didn't because patriarchic bs. But someday, when the bioessentialists continued decline and the rise of solidarity reaches a point where reactionaries no longer have a way to get into power, we might see that. And they are declining in terms of their grip on people, everything about this decade in terms of the far right reads as desperation

watching children successfully and compassionately self-mediate conflict and wondering if it's possible to pinpoint where exactly it all goes wrong for us

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Hi! I loved the "through their eyes" fanfic with lando, and i was wondering if youd do it with literally any other driver? Maybe oscar, max or charles? If not thats fine x

through their eyes .ೃ࿐

Summary: charles and y/n's relationship through other people's eyes.

lando's version

༉‧₊˚. cl x reader ‗ ❍

༉‧₊˚. fluff ‗ ❍

masterlist ☾☼

arthur

arthur loved his brother. he really did. his elder brother was his favourite person in the world sometimes.

key word: sometimes.

he hated his brother when he called in the middle of the night. he hated his brother a little more when his reason for calling was because he was afraid his new little puppy had accidentally eaten chocolates.

charles himself never ate chocolates. arthur knew that. so, he couldn’t understand where charles had the idea that leo ate chocolates.

nevertheless, he let his brother drag him to an emergency vet at 4 am. charles was craddling leo, talking to him in a baby voice. arthur tried to take the whole thing seriously, he really did, but sometimes his brother forgot that other people needed sleep.

"they're taking so long. what if something happens to leo in that time? this is an emergency." charles mumbled.

arthur sighed and said, "you're next in line. just be patient."

charles nodded and went back to running his fingers through leo's fur.

when they finally called charles' name, he immediately stood up and speed walked towards the door. arthur sighed, and followed behind, dragging his feet because he really just wanted to be in his bed right now.

"hi, i'm doctor y/l/n. what brings you here?" the doctor was pretty, arthur had to admit.

though, the funny part was the way his brother had lost the part of his brain that made sentences as he stared at the doctor with wide eyes.

as much as arthur loved to see his brother like this, he refused to let him make a fool of himself, or of arthur.

"his dog apparently ate chocolates?" arthur said.

the vet let out a small chuckle, "you say that as if you're not sure,"

"well, i just came home and saw chocolate wrappers around him, which was weird, and immediately rushed him here." charles finally said, finding the part of his brain that made words.

"that is weird. do you have a lot of chocolate at home?" she asked as she began to check for any signs on leo.

"not really. i don't eat a lot of chocolate," charles said, alternating between the doctor and leo.

"any idea where the chocolate was since it was accessible to such a small dog?"

both leclercs stopped for a second and thought. charles was usually careful about not leaving things like that near leo's reach, well aware that leo was a hyperactive dog. and for the days that charles was away, arthur babysat leo. just like he had done that day.

oh.

arthur's brain finally began working, and he hit his brother's back.

"i had the chocolates!" arthur exclaimed.

charles turned to him, confused, "what?"

"i was babysitting leo today and i got some chocolates with me!"

"so you ate them in my living room and left the wrappers?" charles asked, a little bit of anger seeping through his voice.

oh.

this was what arthur had told himself today to not repeat to his brother. that he had been lazy and decided not to clean up like he knew he should've.

arthur opened his mouth to defend himself, to say anything that could pass off and not have his brother lecture him in the middle of the night. but, the doctor saved him. thank fuck.

"oh, i know what you mean. sometimes, i have too many chocolates, and then i fall asleep from a sugar crash and forget to pick up the wrappers or clean up," she said casually, as she continued checking leo.

charles turned back to her, and arthur watched as he slowly nodded and accepted the answer. arthur wasn't sure whether he wanted to be pissed at that or amazed at the power this woman already held.

she subtly winked at arthur, and he decided that he liked this woman.

she turned to charles and said, "alright, he's not vomitting, so that's a good sign. i'm gonna write my personal number for you just in case there's an emergency."

arthur smiled, though he tried to hide it. he knew what she was doing. he just hoped his brother caught on too.

charles took the piece of paper from her, and thanked her. she waved at the two brothers, as they turned to leave.

just as they settled in charles' car, he asked, "why did she give me her personal number?"

arthur facepalmed.

carlos

carlos had been seeing charles' new "friend" quite often in the paddock. charles hadn't introduced them yet, and carlos didn't know why. he still respected his teammate's wishes.

carlos liked to think that he was an observant man. he liked to think that he knew charles well enough to read his body language and know or at least, understand some part of what his teammate was feeling.

he had been observing charles every time y/n was close by. had been watching the way charles stood a little taller, spoke a little softer, laughed a little harder. watched the way charles almost touched her back while showing her around, and insisted on putting the headphones on her head himself, and the way charles waited and waited for her to do anything and everything.

it reminded him of lando and his girlfriend. though, those two were much more touchy than whatever this was. in comparison, charles seemed hesitant, yet eager.

it was during the fourth or fifth grand prix that carlos noticed that charles was properly touching her. not just a hand on her back to guide her way, but a hand on the waist, and her arm, and sometimes her fingers. not only that, she was touching him just as much. she played with his rings and his hair, and she stood just a tad closer than friends would.

carlos knew then that something had changed. something had definitely changed, and he knew it was for the better. he did not say anything, though. it wasn't his place.

towards the end of the season, charles finally introduced the woman to carlos.

"carlos, this is dr. y/n y/l/n. she's a vet," he paused, "and my girlfriend,"

carlos smiled instantly. shaking y/n's hand, he said, "hello, dr. y/n. i am carlos sainz jr, though i'm sure you're already aware of that."

she laughed, and carlos watched the way charles lit up, "yes, i do know who you are! i'm so glad to finally meet you!"

"me too! i was expecting charles to hide you from the world, especially me," carlos laughed.

"i apologise, that was based on my request," y/n looked slightly apologetic, but she also seemed sure in her response. it was her request to not be known, and she had the vibe that she would fight anyone who questioned it.

"well, then i'm glad to see charles is capable to following requests. my request for feeding him pancakes have always been ignored. hopefully, you can convince him,"

charles groaned, while y/n laughed, leaning into him slightly.

"i'll convince him, for sure. don't worry,"

the three of them chatted for a little while longer, giggling and making fun of charles. when she started yawning, and leaning into charles more, carlos bid his goodbyes to the couple.

he watched as charles tucked her into him, and watched they shared a soft kiss as they walked towards the exit. he watched as charles smiled radiantly, and he smiled as well.

what was it with carlos and watching his teammates finding their forever loves in front of him?

lewis

being a part of ferrari had been a dream. it was everyone's dream. but, lewis had some doubts. it had been a tough decision, definitely. now, though, with almost half of the season over, lewis felt more comfortable.

he had been waiting for charles to finish talking to the fia president to go over some strategy changes for the next few races. he wasn't eavesdropping, he was just listening attentively for any signs of their conversation being over. lewis desperately wanted to go home, but he wanted to finish this and then go home.

as soon as the conversation ended, lewis watched as charles and his girlfriend bid their goodbyes and walked to charles' driver room. lewis jogged to keep up. he was 40. he shouldn't have to jog to keep up now.

just as lewis reached the door, the two had already locked themselves in the room. in hindsight, lewis could have just yelled at them to wait up like a normal person would, but well, maybe he doesn't care about the strategies enough to do it.

he raised his hand to knock when the words from inside the room registered in his brain.

"-such a dick." y/n was saying. who was a dick? a lot of people were dicks, so it didn't exactly narrow down the list for lewis.

charles laughed. his voice was louder. maybe he was standing closer to the door.

"don't laugh! it was so annoying standing there. three different people, including me, mentioned to that fuckass president of yours that i'm a vet and i have a medical degree, and i've made a name for myself! but, no! he kept referring to me as your girlfriend!"

if lewis leaned against the wall to get slightly more comfortable, he definitely didn't. definitely.

"you say as if it's a bad thing he referred to you as my girlfriend! you are my girlfriend, after all." charles said.

"that's not the point, charles. the point is that i'm accomplished in my own ways. i'm y/n y/l/n first, and somebody's something second. him refusing to acknowledge that i'm a doctor, even if it was for animals, was disrespectful."

lewis hoped that charles got his shit together in this conversation.

"i understand that. but, you know that's how he is. we've all told you stories of how he is. he's not going to change." well, lewis agreed that he wasn't going to change, but it still wasn't the argument that charles thought it was.

"that's bullshit, no? he's the president of the fia, and he refuses to acknowledge women as someone other than a secondary person. i mean, how many others has he done this with? we've got professional golfer lily, and a super smart degree in engineering, and we've got kika as a model and studying in fashion design. they're all highly accomplished women."

"mon cheri, i agree with you. i promise i do. but, the president barely treats us drivers as humans. his viewership and his money literally depends on us, and he doesn't have the decency to treat us nicely,"

that was true, lewis had to agree.

it was quiet for a few moments, and then hushed whispers. lewis leaned in closer to the door as he tried to make out the words, but he just couldn't.

"oh, hey lewis!" one of the mechanics said, clapping a hand on his back.

lewis immediately straightened, and made polite conversations. he really wanted to get back to listening to the conversation happening inside.

just as he was done with the conversation, the door opened, and charles greeted them, and the conversation began again.

for fucks sake.

jules

jules was always watching from the sky. he was always watching over his godson. after all, that was the duty of a godfather, wasn't it? to protect the godson when no one else could. to be there for the godson when no one else could. jules had promised charles' father that he would always look after his son, and not even death can stop jules.

he'd watched charles find y/n. he'd watched the way she supported him and helped him grow as a person. he's watched as she made him the happiest man on earth. he'd watched her celebrate every win with him, and comforted him through every loss.

it was safe to say that jules felt the proudest of his godson the day he proposed to y/n. charles was smart to never let her go. charles was smart to make sure that she stayed with him and loved him just like he loved her and wanted to stay with her.

it was the day of charles and y/n's wedding.

jules was there in spirit. he always was.

y/n was a sweetheart. she had saved him a seat, along with charles' father in the front row for charles. jules wasn't sure if she had told charles, but he knew his godson would be so thankful for it.

jules was there in his suit and tie, looking crisp, even if no one could see him. he sat on the seat reserved for him as he waited for the groom to walk down the aisle first.

he saw every person who ever cared about charles sitting there. family, friends, team, ex drivers, current drivers. it made jules smile. so many people loved charles. so many loved y/n as well. to see them all together in one place to celebrate their love was heartwarming.

the music began, and charles walked down the aisle with his groomsmen: pierre, carlos, and bryan. they smile and laugh with him, shaking his shoulders as tear gather in charles' eyes.

jules watched as charles' gaze roam across the mass of people sitting there. he waves slightly at a few. jules watched as charles' gaze finally settled on him. he watched as charles' tears fell at the realisation of what his fiance had done for him.

he watched as charles covered his face, silent sobs escaping him. and then, the music began, and the bride walked down the aisle. everyone stood, including jules.

the bride was smiling wide, a little bounce in her steps as if she couldn't wait to marry his godson. her hand was tucked in her father's elbow, and the other hand held a bouquet of lilies.

jules watched as she stood on the little podium in front of charles, smiling brightly while his tears mixed with his grin. the love in charles' eyes was as beautiful as the aurora borealis in the night sky.

the ceremony began, and they went through the usual process. jules had been to few weddings, though he didn't remember most of them anymore.

when it was time for the vows, charles broke down again as he thanked his bride for saving a spot for his dad and his godfather, that he didn't think of doing something like that despite how much he wanted them to be there on their wedding there. he thanked her and promised to love her forever. he promised to cherish her and always be there for her, and he promised that he would always be at her beck and call, because she was the greatest gift he'd ever gotten.

y/n cried as well. it surprised jules a little bit. maybe he wasn't expecting her to cry as well. but, it was nice to see. to see that their love for each other was so overwhelming that smiles could not contain it.

she said her vows as well. she told him that she knew how much he missed his father and godfather and she wanted to do something small that would make him feel closer to them. she told him how much she loved him and how much she's going to continue loving him. she promised him to be the first one jumping for every win, and be the first hug he needs when he's disappointed. she promised that she would hold onto his hand as long as he held onto her, and she promised to laugh at every joke he said, regardless of how funny or not funny it was.

almost everyone was in tears. jules was too.

when the priest finally said, "you may kiss your bride," the couple did not waste another second. charles' hands cupped her face, as she held onto his wrists, and they kissed for the first time as a married couple.

jules smiled.

he knew pushing y/n towards charles was a good idea.

he knew he'd made the right decision, even from the sky.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

i genuinely feel like my writing skills have massively deteriorated. im not even fishing. im just saying. i feel like it takes me one or two tries to get a particular driver right. i don't really pay as much attention to the other drivers as i do with lando, and also that i connect with lando a lot personality wise, so its easier for me to write him. anyways, i hope you like this! im sorry it took me so long to write this one! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @greantii ; @anamiad00msday ; @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @justaf1girl ; @peterholland04 ; @phobiccneel ; @winkev1 ; @alexxavicry

[diceroll65]

party animal part three - b.e

billie eilish x fem!reader

a/n: hello lovelies! started this off thinking i might end the series here, but let me know your thoughts!

this is slightly long! 3k words <3

warnings: smut, strap-on sex, orgasm denial, overstimulation, tiniest bit of dom!reader, mostly dom!billie, aftercare, fluff at end

part one, part two

previously... "so you're telling me she's never made you finish?"

you try holding in a laugh. "she almost did? once?" you say, you and billie make eye contact and burst out in laughter. you both were now leaning against the wall talking to some of billie's friends, as you catch yourself staring at billie every so often. you have one thought on your mind, and this thought would have turned into reality if you two weren't so rudely interrupted. you want to give billie a 'thank you' for all she has done for you tonight. although, you have no idea how this is supposed to play out, considering the party is still very much alive. as billie is contributing to casual conversation, you can't help but feel your stomach doing twists as you watch her jaw move up and down, physically feeling it through your sex. you realize that you need to snap out of this mindset, that the moment has already passed. this conflicting thought wavering back and forth in your head causes you to go nonverbal, almost in a dissociative state. billie picks up on your sudden silence, now looking at you in concern. "hey, are you alright?" she asks, now softly resting her hand on your lower back. you immediately snap out of that mentality, meeting billie's worried expression. "can i talk to you about something?" you ask, hinting at her to step out of the group. "oh yeah, for sure" she responds, as she gives a "we'll be right back" cue to the group. you are now standing under the stairs, and instantly lean in, crashing your lips into hers. you break the kiss and begin kissing underneath her ear, as your ears softly begin to graze her earlobe. "hmmm are you still aroused, baby?" she hums, as you continue kissing her neck. "mhm" is all you manage to say, not wanting to pry your lips from her warm skin. billie breaks your grasp, grabbing your hand and guides you to her bedroom upstairs.

as soon as you hit the top of the stairs, she turns around and collides with your lips once again. mid kiss, she begins directing you to her room. "wait, aren't you still sore?" you question, glancing at her jaw and back at her edacious gaze. "oh that won't hold me back, trust me" she says assuringly, giggling. she twists the doorknob, quickly opening the door. she quickly breaks the kiss once again, turning around to lock the door. "you know, if you wanted this, you could have just asked" billie says, smirking your neck. "i just want to make you feel so good" you express, now breathless. you quickly turn you both around now, her back facing the bed. "jesus christ y/n, you're trying to kill me" she says, as you gently push her back. you quickly slide your dress off, as she removes her tee shirt. you slither on the bed, now bestride on her lips. your hands fly to the button of her jeans. "p-please?" you ask sweetly, meeting billie's eyes in a way that was impossible to resist. "go ahead and take them off, baby" she permits, her eye watching the desperate urgency in your demeanor. your hands then reach to grab the denim material at her thighs, pulling them off briskly. your distress is seemingly having a wonderful effect on billie, causing her breathing to get more labored. you are now face to face with billie's blush-colored panties, with a little rose sitting on the hem. you stare into billie's eyes, as your teeth gently grasp onto the hem, pulling down the underwear. billie moaned in response to your sudden dominance, as you drag the panties down to her ankles, discarding them quickly after. you crawl up in between her already spread legs, situating yourself. you blow softly against her sex, causing a light gasp. you smile to yourself, as you begin to lick along her core. billie's head instantly falls back against the pillows, letting out a soft whine. your eyes lock on her facial reactions to the pleasure, making you smile into her. "how's it feel, baby?" you ask, clearly already knowing the answer. "so so good y/n, fuck" she says, struggling to catch her breath. "good" you say, as you continue. you can tell billie is close by her center twitching around your mouth. "fuck, i'm about to cum, y/n" you pick up your face, with a now evil smirk as say "hold it." billie groans, throwing her head back against the pillows once again. you continue, now adding your dainty digits into her, creating an obscene moan to escape from billie's lips. "please, y/n, i can't" billie begs, as she lifts her head to look into your eyes. "go on, my love" you grant, as you feel the energy become less tense and billie fully releases. she lays there for a second, trying to regulate her breathing.

billie then flips you over, instantly pinning your arms above your head. you were surprised she still had the energy to do this after what just occurred. "you really thought i wouldn't take the opportunity?" she says, with a smirk. she takes her hands from your wrists, and moves them down, tracing the physique of your figure. you become flustered as she is staring at your now sopping underwear. "let me make it better, hm?" she says, kissing your left thigh, fingers latching onto the edges of the panties. you nod, as she begins to softly tug the undergarment off your quivering body. your body is aching, feeling an agonizing longing for her to touch where you need her to. your mind is in an elated headspace. billie smiles, chuckling at how badly you desire her attention. "a little antsy, are we?" she asks, sensually, as you rapidly nod your head. "what do you want me to do?" she asks, her face now hovering over yours. "i want you to fuck me, so hard" you say, hungrily. billie eyebrows lift slightly, her smirk now widening. "want me to stretch you out, baby? hm? do you need to be spread open?" she asks, inquisitively, her lips sweeping across your bottom lip. at this point, you are now completely incoherent, trying desperately to configure a sentence. "i-i... yes I want that please" you respond, feeling slightly embarrassed for how badly you ache for her. billie grins, kissing your burning cheeks. "I can do that for you" she says, seduction lingering in her voice. she opens the side table drawer, grabbing an eight inch, sapphire blue strap. you are not used to the length, but know it will feel good once you're accustomed.

before she latches the harness around her dainty hips, she brings the silicone to your mouth. "coat it for me, baby" she states, as she inserts the unattached member in your mouth. you attempt to take the entire length, gagging slightly as you moan against the strap. billie's eyes are now glazed over, fascinated with the image of you in such a vulnerable state. "my god, i want to fucking bury it in you" she says, taking the strap out of your mouth. she quickly secures the harness, as she quickly adjusts to align with your dripping orifice. "are you ready for it?" she questions, looking into your eyes to make sure you're certain. "y-yes" you say, the anticipation causing you to tremble. before you realize, billie has now entered you, slowly getting you used to the feeling. your eyes squeeze close, as you begin breathing harshly. "it's okay, baby. do you need me to go slower?" she asks, noticing your discomfort. "just a little" you say, looking into her eyes. "okay, okay here we go" she states softly, slowing her movement. you feel the silicone slowly stretching you out, now feeling a little better. "you are so beautiful, y/n" she says, picking up the pace a little bit. your furrowed eyebrows now lose tension, showing signs of pleasure. billie takes this as a sign to continue to accelerate, leading you to a euphoric state. "how are you feeling, mama?" she asks, gazing into your lazy eyes. "i- i-" "hm?" she interrupts, finding your struggle amusing. "i feel so so good" you gasp, as you feel her again quickening her speed. "fuck, billie fuck fuck fuck" you say with your voice now pitchy. she is practically kissing you as she whispers onto your mouth "hold it" with a smirk, as she is now thrusting as fast as her body will allow her. "oh my god, oh my god" you whimper, tears threatening to spill. "didn't you say you wanted me to fuck you so hard? i'm giving you what you asked for, no?" she questions, amusingly pouting.

you are unable to respond due to the impact of her silicone extension in your sex, now creating a thumping noise. the headboard is striking the wall, and you feel yourself getting lightheaded. you tap billie's left arm, that was supporting her weight hovering over you. "billie- i need to cum i'm about to pass out" you say, your eyes now resting closed. billie's expression softens as she notices the color change in your face. "holy shit oh my god, you can cum, baby" as she grants you permission, you release harshly as your body shudders. you groan as you now have a slight headache, rolling over to attempt to get more comfortable. billie's eyes widen at your frail state, unlatching the harness and throwing the strap on the ground. billie crawls on the bed, carefully grabbing both your arms, "baby. i can't even begin to express how sorry i am" she says, her voice laced with guilt. "i should have taken it as a sign when you weren't used to the size" she says, now sweeping a piece of hair out of your eyes. she grabs her phone, texting a close friend and telling them to get everyone out of the house. that the party is now over. in a matter of minutes, she receives a text back saying everyone is out, and also stating that they were also leaving.

the house now is just you and billie, which made you feel a lot more comfortable. she gently pulls you up and off the bed, wrapping you in a towel. "let's go get some food and drink in your system, yeah?" you nod softly, as she guides you down the stairs. you grip onto her, as the movement causes sensitivity from your center that courses through your body. she softly pulls out a kitchen chair, laying a towel underneath before you sit. she runs to the cabinet, grabbing a glass and walking towards the fridge. she fills it with little ice, which is exactly how you like it? how did she know? she then fills the glass with water, as she instantly brings it to you, handing it to you directly. she leans against her island that is right in front of you, watching to make sure you drink. as soon as you take a sip, she softly nods, as she goes to the kitchen to prepare to cook for you. "how does tofu stir fry sound?" she looks over the counter, looking at you. you nod, softly saying "that sounds great." billie smiles, as she goes to the pantry. she grabs a vegan protein bar, coming over and laying it in front of you. "why don't you work on this while i'm cooking? it'll take about thirty minutes?" she says, delicately stroking your cheek. you smile as you open the wrapper, biting into the bar. billie plants a gentle kiss to the top of your head, as she walks back to the kitchen, beginning the tofu stir fry. the pleasant smell filled your nose, as the tension in your head start to feel better after consuming the protein bar. you begin to relax in the chair, causing you to lean back and close your eyes. billie worries you will fall asleep, so she attempts to create small talk to keep you up. the thirty minutes fly by, and your food is now sitting in front of you. it's hot, and as you pick up a little to bring to your mouth, you hear billie say "blow on it." so you do, blow on it, and bring it to your lips. billie watches you as she caresses your resting non-dominant hand. "you like it?" she asks, with a smile. you look at her with an obvious expression, since you were scarfing it down. "it's amazing, billie. best stir fry i've ever had" you state, closing your eyes as the taste lingers on your tastebuds. you finish, and billie is quick to taking your bowl and glass, placing them in the sink.

billie then takes the towel underneath you, and guides you back upstairs. you once again enter her bedroom, where billie steps into her connected bathroom. she throws the towel in the hamper, where she is now preparing you a shower. the steam fills the bathroom, slipping through the door into the bedroom. she motions for you to come into the bathroom, as you untuck the white towel, pulling it off your figure. it rests on your shoulder, as you gather your hair in a ponytail grabbing for the supposed hair tie on the other wrist. there wasn't one, billie caught on and runs to grab one of her bathroom vanity. you put your hair up, and set the towel in the hamper. you then reach for the curtain in attempts to open it. billie comes right up behind you, replaces your hand and opens the curtain for you. she offers her hand, so that you can easily get in. the warm water softly grazing your back, as you slowly submerge your body. you open the curtain, finding billie with her arms folded behind her back, looking at her feet. "are you coming in, or?" you ask, looking at her confused. a surprised expression spreads across her face, as she quickly begins peeling the garments of her body. she grabs you both fresh towels, resting them on the towel rack. she opens the curtain, stepping in to find you relaxing under the water. the warmness of the shower and the fullness of your stomach was making it impossible for you to keep your eyes open. you yawn, as you reach for the castle soap. she takes it out of your hand "leave this to me, yeah?"she says, opening the castle soap. billie lathers the soap in her hands, rubbing it softly over your upper chest, and down your arms. you throw your head back, as you begin to relax under her touch. she then bends down, coating your legs with the soap. she then grabs the shower head, rinsing off your body. she takes it and goes towards your center. she gently rinses the area with water, as you wince at the sensitivity. "i know, babygirl. i'm sorry" she says, soothingly. you then do the same for her, rubbing the castle soap over her entire figure. you then rinse everything off, turning the water off. billie opens the curtain and grabs one towel, and slowly dries your skin. when she finishes, she grabs her towel and does the same for herself. she steps out first, stepping on the fluffy bath mat. she extends her hand to you, as you grab it and step out of the shower. you both lay your towels in the hamper, and billie goes to open the bathroom door. she turns around to tell you to wait in the bathroom so you're not cold. "oh shit, um, is there anyway i could use something to take my makeup off with?" you ask, as your makeup is probably running down your face at this point. "of course, the micellar water is on the vanity. the wash cloths are over there" as she points to her linen closet. as she is out of the room, you wash your makeup off, discarding the wash cloth in the hamper. she then reenters the bathroom with an oversized tee shirt, and a pair of her brief underwear. you smile, as you quickly step into the dry clothes. you notice she also is wearing an oversized tee shirt and a pair of briefs.

"thank you so much for everything, billie. i can wash these up and give them to you tomorrow?" you ask, hating that you have to go. billie looks at you raising her eyebrow, "what do you mean? are you not staying here?" she asks, tilting her head. "you want me to?" you question, as you look down. "y/n, of course i do. besides, i don't want you driving home this late" she says, reaching up to grab your chin. a big smile spreads across your face, as you immediately fall into her for a hug. she was surprised by your gesture, but instantly wraps her arms around you. "thank you for taking care of me, billie. this is all so new to me, and i'm just very grateful for you" you speak into her hair. her grip tightens around you, as she begins to rub your back. "you don't have to thank me for that" she states, softly. "i will always take care of you, y/n" she states, reassuringly. "now let's get you in bed, hm?" her ushering you to the bed. you get in, as she pulls the covers over you. she goes to turn out the lamp, and grabs the television remote from the dresser. gets in bed and slides the remote over to you, getting comfortable on her side, facing you. you immediately put on 'new girl' and settle in bed, facing billie. billie comes close to you and kisses your nose. "sorry for over-exhausting you earlier" she says, slightly frowning. "billie" you begin "i needed my shit rocked, and you very much did that" you laugh. "it is totally fine, that was the best orgasm i have ever experienced. i just wasn't used to length" you say, assuring her that you are okay. billie lets out a relieving sigh "okay" as she reaches over to pull you in by your waist. you quickly snuggle into billie, as her hair tickles your nose. you kiss her jaw, as your eyes begin to feel heavy.

"wait i rocked your shit?!" she asks, enthusiastically. you roll your eyes, as you meet hers. "yes, now go to sleep."

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

Hi, Love your art♡♡. So this is a little weird, but in your modern AU is Chopper First Nations or Inuit

And does he do drumming or any dances? Sorry if it's weird, but I'm only asking cuz I myself fall into the Umbrella term indigenous.

Hello, and thanks so much!! Its not weird at all, thank you for inquiring about my designs :)

I designed him to be Inuit! I tried to bring in some Inuit inspirations with his earrings, but that earring style is not exclusive to Inuit designs and honestly the beads of it reads a bit more general indigenous rather than Inuit specifically but i thought it would bring in that idea of his nationality in a way that can resemble his antlers :)

I think that maybe as a kid he wouldve been ostracized from his community somehow, like how he is in canon. So maybe he wouldnt be very in touch with his heritage’s culture. But maybe he knows some of the dances/ drumming rhythms from when he was in the community, and now he cracks them out at parties and Luffy is super enthusiastic on learning them and having fun with chopper :) that would be v sweet :))))

Thanks for the ask! I always like talking about my designs n stuff :)))))

[suuguchan]

(tw: one mention of somno)

suguru geto is perpetually pussydrunk. in the sense he'd have your pussy on him, somehow, some way, at all times if you allowed it.

he'd be fucking it, or eating it, or touching it, every day, multiple times a day, if only he could. he'd love if you cockwarmed him during cult meetings. if you jumped on the counter and pulled his hair until he was pretty nose deep in it, whenever you wanted. he's spent hours wide awake at night, thinking about how tasty your sweet treat is: mouth agape, knuckles tight and pants tighter, keeping himself from doing anything in your sleep because he's horny, but not an asshole.

still, fuck, sometimes he just can't help himself. grabbing a handful of your inner thigh in public, a cheeky but relatively harmless touch; only to get a sense of how warm you're down there, so close yet so far away from his hand.

one time, seeing you walk around the temple with a pretty yet modest yukata he'd bought for you, he simply couldn't help himself.

fingering you while pushed up against a wall, half hidden behind a sliding door, just to feel your heat and wetness, running between his fingers and down his hand.

“sh, sh, don' talk. don't want anyone seeing her but me. she's mine, 'll mine, only gets wet f'me”

and when he had to stop before someone ran into you two, leaving you annoyed, needy and horny, he had no better idea than to steal your panties and keep them in his pocket; a nice reminder of the good things awaiting for him at home.

“just be a good girl and don't finish 'til i tell you, 'kay? ♡”

[lovesickhughes]

hi hi hi!

i’ve been thinking about times with quinn where you get to tag along to whatever cities he’s playing in 🥹

maybe he has a couple days off between games and the two of you get to explore a new place together, sure he’s been there before but your wife eyes put everything in a new light for quinn

talking tennesse | quinn hughes

a/n: thank you so much for requesting! i absolutely love this idea! i did indeed go a little bit crazy on this one- making it a full fic, but this idea really had me thinking about how lovely life would be with quinn hughes as your husband 🥹 i hope you enjoy!

pairings: quinn hughes x wife!reader

warnings: wives and girlfriends mentioned, please know i don't follow the canucks team, so all the WAGS mentioned are purely fictional and made up by me!

word count: 5.3k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Marriage comes with many aspects of happiness in all areas of your lives, but what you were most fulfilled with, was being able to spend the rest of your life, married to Quinn and being by his side as his biggest supporter of his career. Of course, it was a lifestyle you had grown to get used to, and was a big shift in your relationship when he was announced as captain of Vancouver, but nevertheless, being able to watch him succeed and play the game he loves, ultimately completed you as a being. 

A perk to Quinn’s career being a part of a national franchise, was the opportunities to travel to new cities alongside your newly pronounced husband. You were forever grateful to the team for their accommodations, but also appreciative towards Quinn who always made the extra effort to ensure you had the smoothest, and most safe travels to watch him play from such far distances from your home. 

Quinn and the Canucks were scheduled for a five-game road trip to the United States, playing every other day against Minnesota, Chicago, Columbus, St. Louis, ending their stretch on a Friday in Nashville, Tennessee before flying the far distance back to Vancouver for home games. 

Busy with other commitments, you had taken some time away from work to visit Quinn and watch his games against the Blues and Predators, scheduling your flights with Quinn a few months prior to make sure your schedules matched. 

Luckily enough, after their game in Nashville, the schedule had left them with a three day break, and their next practice being only two days after the last played game. When Quinn and you had realized he would have a few days off to relax, you both hopped on quickly to take advantage of being able to spend time together. 

—

You walked into your shared, Vancouver apartment, shrugging off your damp raincoat and hanging it on the hook that was placed to the left of the entrance. You slid your boots off and quickly dropped them next to the rack of shoes that were neatly organized before walking into the warm, aromatic environment with dimly lit lights creating a relaxed atmosphere that consumed you. 

Quinn was in the kitchen, the smell of food being cooked on the stove added to the aroma of your apartment, and you followed the scent as you turned the corner, revealing Quinn facing the stove, cooking what looked to be an assortment of veggies in one pan, while another pan cooked a seasoned chicken. 

A smile immediately rose to your face, the sight of your favourite brunette in a navy blue hoodie that looked two sizes too big, engulfing his frame, paired with black, baggy sweats, being the cause of your smile. The teddy bear look on Quinn elicited an excited swirl of adrenaline to rush through your body. And you absentmindedly walked up to his figure, sliding your arms around his torso from behind, his body immediately melting into yours at the contact. 

“Hi you,” you smiled up to meet Quinn’s gaze whose eyes already found your face, a soft expression written on his features. 

“Hey, how was work?” He asked immediately, Quinn turned in your grip and he maneuvered your two bodies slightly to the side to step away from the cooking food. His own hands met your waist, your black trousers descending in length to the ground and fabric pooling at your feet. His fingers toyed with the belt loop of your waistband, as he quickly reached down to peck your lips. 

You stood up tall in his embrace as you began to describe your day and all the small details about your commute, a meeting you had and a phone call with a client. As you continued, Quinn leaned against the marble countertop quietly and contently as he listened to you. It was one of his favourite things to do; to hear you talk, no matter what it was about. The energy you emitted just with hearing your voice and the passion and care behind it, was one of the main reasons Quinn knew he had to marry you. 

You had now made your way over to the fridge to grab a water bottle from one of the shelves, turning back around to take a seat on the island barstool, while Quinn went back to cooking, still actively listening to you talk. 

“Oh yeah, and I talked to my boss and she said I was more than good to take time off that weekend you’re in Nashville, so I’ll come down on the Wednesday night after your game in St. Louis and meet you at the hotel.” You said as you took a sip of water, rewarding your throat with moisture from all the words and speaking you had just produced. 

“That’s great, babe, we can do that tonight then.” Quinn said in regard to booking your flights. “Wanna make sure you get there as quickly and safely as possible.” He said, turning off the dial producing heat to cook the food. 

“Y’know it’s never a problem flying out, always smooth sailing.” You remarked, giggling a little at the slight spurge in Quinn’s protectiveness peering through. 

He hummed in response, “I know, just gotta make sure.” 

“Well,” you let out a breath as you stood to your feet, seeing Quinn was now dishing up each of your portions of dinner. “Thanks for being so considerate, Husband.” You said slyly as you walked up to him, bumping his hip with your own as you placed a quick kiss to his cheek before grabbing your plate and walking towards the small dining room to eat your meal together. 

—

The flight to Nashville was effortless, having slept for the majority of it, your baggage claim and commute from the airport to the hotel seemed to pass by as if you had only blinked. 

You checked into the hotel, reserved under Quinn and your name, and the day of travel had seemingly caught up to you, as you flopped on the large king mattress, coat and shoes still on, too exhausted to bother changing at the moment. 

After building up the courage to at least settle in for the night, you changed into a comfortable hoodie and lounge pants, pulling your hair up into a clip so it was out of your face and ordering a quick meal to eat while you caught the last few minutes of Quinn’s game in St. Louis. They were down 4-2 in the third period, desperately making an effort to make a comeback, but much to yours and the rest of the Canucks team and fans, they fell short at the end of regulation. 

You switched the channel to play in the background as you went to the attached bathroom and began getting ready for the night, and as you finished brushing your teeth, moving onto skincare, you heard the ringtone of your phone calling from the bed. 

Quickly, you shuffled to where the incoming call was being sent from, and you peered down at the phone, seeing the contact photo you had set for Quinn light across the screen. It was you and him on your wedding day, a black and white picture of him carefully leaning you backwards into a dip, his large hand spread over your back, and the smiles written across each of your faces as you looked deeply into one another’s eyes, encapsulated the exact feeling you experienced on that day, and spread to how you feel three-hundred and sixty-five days of the year, being with Quinn. 

You undoubtedly slide your finger on the screen to accept the call, and your screen is switched to be filled with Quinn’s tired, almost gloomy expression.

“Hey, honey,” you dragged out, lacing your tone with sympathy towards the recent loss. “How are you holding up?” You asked, walking back into the brightly lit bathroom, seeing the light reflect through the screen and onto Quinn’s face. 

He sighed, his distraught expression pulling at your heartstrings. “Could be better– it just sucks y’know? No one likes losing.” He explained. It was clear he was located somewhere quiet, most likely the bus given the slight background noise cutting through. 

“Yeah, I know. It’s never easy, but you guys have had a good road trip so far, I’m more than confident that you’ll close it out on a positive note in Nashville.” You reassured him. You knew it was hard on Quinn, losing and feeling an immense weight of pressure being the captain and holding himself and his teammates to certain standards and expectations, but you knew that sometimes– all Quinn needed was to talk and be with you. So you always let him. No matter the circumstance, you would listen when he just needed to get things off his chest, console him after a tough loss, and praise him in all the ways he deserved when they took home a big win. 

“Thanks, babe. I love you.” He said as you saw him run a hand through his messy, wet curls. “Plus, I get to spend the weekend with you in Nashville.” He added, a smile sounding through his voice at the thought of what was expected after the final game of their road trip. 

“You’re too sweet, you know that?” You asked, glancing at your phone as you finished your nighttime routine. 

“Of course, always wanna impress my girl.” He said proudly, a bright smile erupting on his face. 

You then found your way into the bed, pulling back the covers and sliding into the comfort of the mattress. It wasn’t long before Quinn and you ended the call, saying your goodnights and I love yous, and by the time you had turned off your phone and lights of the room, the only source coming from the TV that played in the back– you were deep into a much needed rest. 

It felt like mere minutes after your eyes fell heavy and into a deep sleep, when the sound of Quinn opening the door of the hotel and attempting to be as quiet as possible, stirred you in your sleep. 

You tried to ignore it, hearing the bustling around as Quinn probably unpacked his bag and changed out of his suit, and it wasn’t long before you felt the dip in the mattress as Quinn slid in next to you. 

“Are you awake?” He whispered, barely audible.

You groaned in response, wanting to maintain your state or tranquility, but you rolled over to face him, your eyes slightly squinting opening to peer at his face, but the exhaustion still laid heavy on you, so all you could gather was a stretch of your arm up to his shoulder that felt warm and bare.

Quinn adjusted under the weight of your arm, his own hand finding your side as he snuggled into your warm figure. And all you could process was the feeling of Quinn’s breaths against your body as your eyes fluttered back to their position and your mind fell unconscious. 

—

The warm, morning sun bled through the thin fabric of the curtains of the hotel room, a calm silence falling over as Quinn and you were fast asleep, the events from the previous night wiping all energy from you. 

As you slowly came to wake, you felt the presence of Quinn from behind you, his warm body emitting heat under the covers and spreading to you, as his front was pressed up against your back. Your eyes closed further than they already were as you cleared your blurry, sleep-filled vision, and you noticed the weight of Quinn’s arm, protectively wrapped around your torso. The heavy weight of his arm justified to you how exhausted Quinn was from the long travelling and disappointing loss the night before. 

To spare him, you avoid waking him up, rolling over to face him while under his grasp, and you slide your own arm over top of his shoulder and wrap it to entangle your fingers in his luscious brown curls. 

You dozed off, back into your slumber as you fell content with the feeling of being so close to Quinn, and an hour had passed before you both began to stir, Quinn’s grip on your side tightening as he stretched under the sheets. 

“Morning, pretty.” Quinn greeted with a tired smile on his face. His eyes were barely open, avoiding the blinding light of the sun that shone through into the room, and you peck his lips in response, taking your hand and pushing away the stray strands of his hair that fell onto his face. 

“G’morning, babe. How did you sleep? I barely heard you come in last night– when did you get in?” You perked, sitting up in the bed, still under the plush duvet of the hotel bed, as Quinn’s arm fell to your hip, grasping at the love handle. It was one of the things you loved most about Quinn– his desire to always touch you. 

Whether it was while you two were at home, in your own comfort watching a movie and he’d rub gentle, sweet nothings on your shoulder as he wrapped his arm around you, the fabric of your hoodie rubbing against your skin that sent waves of excitement rushing through your body. Or even when you attended parties or events being held by the hockey team. Alongside Quinn, when talking with fellow teammates and management members, the feeling of Quinn’s hand spread on the small of your back as he was deeply invested in a conversation.

You briefly glance at the hand on your hip, following it up his arm to his face, taking in the sight of a tired Quinn– messy hair, only covered with a pair of sweat shorts and nothing else. You wanted nothing more than to pounce at the sight, but you knew there were plans in order, other than spending the entire day in the sheets. 

“I think I got in around three, not too bad, but still. You were passed right out,” He chuckled, closing his eyes momentarily to reminisce at the sight from last night. “But I slept well, I’m ready for our day today.” He nodded towards you, a smile erupting on your face at the mention of what brought you to Nashville. 

Not only would you be catching the game this evening, Quinn and you, along with a few other members of the Canucks and their wives and/or girlfriends, all decided to venture to the infamous Broadway Street in Nashville– known for its amazing live music bars and entertainment. 

You rolled out of bed excitedly, jumping a slight amount as you walked over to the bathroom to begin getting ready by preparing to shower. “I’m so looking forward to it,” you called to Quinn who was still laid in bed, “Natalie was telling me about a live performance at the one place we booked the reso for, so I’m super excited to see the show.” You smiled to yourself, anticipating the events that were soon approaching. 

You briskly showered, finishing in what seemed like record time and Quinn soon followed suit, stepping into the warm bathroom to get ready. As you began your makeup routine, he quickly showered, stepping out in nothing but a hotel towel, hung loosely around his waist, inevitably catching your attention. 

Quinn only chuckled, knowing you like the back of his hand, and slid his arm around your side, squeezing the skin as he placed a soft, wet kiss against your neck, making you inhale sharply in response. 

Quinn had practice before tonight’s game against the Predators, so while he was with his team for the majority of the day, you planned to spend it alongside the other wives and girlfriends of the players– going for brunch and then touring a few of the wineries a few other girls had mentioned. 

It wasn’t long before Quinn and you parted ways, bidding your farewells and making sure each one of you were satisfied with the amount of kisses and hugs exchanged. Quinn, of course, was the one who desired a few more before he left, but you were quick to lightheartedly protest, pushing him out of the hotel room. 

—

Brunch was fantastic, the girls had their fair share of breakfast mimosas along with a delicious meal, and the wineries occupied their afternoon before they all commuted to the arena for the game this evening. 

You were sat with Natalie, Cassandra and Ashley, some of the girlfriends you had grown close to over the years of Quinn being in Vancouver, and you both being together. 

You were dressed in navy blue jeans and a cream-coloured blouse, alongside a black, leather jacket with a large number ‘43’ embroidered into the back with the Canucks logo stitched in as well– the jacket being gifted from the team to all the players' significant others. On your feet, you styled a pair of cowgirl boots, ones you had specifically picked out with Quinn for this trip, and you had admired your outfit for a few extra minutes before leaving earlier in the day to brunch. 

“I’m so excited for tonight,” Cassandra exhaled, turning around in her seat to face the rest of the group who squished together in the backseat, “and I must say– we all look so hot right now, the guys aren’t gonna know what to do with themselves!” She exclaimed, earning a laugh from everyone else. 

“I know! And I love all our matching jackets, I’m definitely posting something for this trip.” Ashley responded. You nodded in agreement, a bright smile of excitement written all over your face, as you dropped your attention to your phone in your hand, a blank message to Quinn waiting to be sent. 

It was a game day ritual, sending your good luck charm and cheering him on, even if it was just over the phone– you knew it meant a lot. 

Y/n

Goodluck tn, babe. I love you! Go kill it 💙

Closing your phone and watching the scenery pass by as the sun began to set and nighttime was slowly inching around the horizon, you felt a buzz from your phone, and you didn’t even look to know who the notification was from. 

—

The game had been an intense, energy-filled forty minutes. Nashville and Vancouver were tied after two periods, and it was now time for the last twenty minutes of regulation to achingly pass by in anticipation to declare a winner. 

You could tell the team was tired, the long stretch of road games, against intense teams and long days of travel– it was starting to catch up on everyone, but you were more than sure the team had it in them to close this one off. 

After the intense battle, the Canucks were able to seal off the win, scoring another two goals in the last twenty minutes, one of the goals being scored by the one and only. The few Vancouver fans excitedly cheered at the win, while Nashville fans began to clear out of the stands, the group of wives and girlfriends holding back in their section of seats before making their way to where the players would depart. 

You stood with Ashley and Natalie, the pair being immersed in their phones most likely putting together a post from today’s adventure, and you also found yourself scrolling through your feed while you waited impatiently to see your favourite brunette turn around the corner of the dressing room hallway. 

It wasn’t long before the players began making their way out of the dressing room, their amped up energy filling the atmosphere, leaving everyone on their toes for ways to celebrate and close out their road trip on a high note. You watched eagerly as each player carried their large hockey bag over their shoulder and placed it near the pile where they would later be sent off, then each hockey player going to greet their guests. 

Just as you were putting your phone away into your purse, you heard the familiar voice appear louder as the man behind the voice approached the exit. Catching your attention, you look up from your side to see the only face you couldn’t wait to be greeted with, Quinn’s glory radiating off his face at the victorious game. He quickly shuffled over to the bag area, slipping off his heavy duffel bag to the floor before turning his entire body in your direction– his face almost immediately lighting up further than it had been mere seconds ago. 

He walked proudly over to where you stood, arms reaching out to pull you into his embrace, as a smile of your own broke out on your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your head falling into the crook of his collarbone as you two reconnected after being apart since earlier in the day. 

“Good job, my love,” you mumbled against the skin of his neck. His hands that were placed near your ribs, fell down your sides to your hips, gripping your sides with intent as he pulled away from your hug to meet your eyes. “You did so amazing today.” You smiled, even the words falling off your tongue making you feel proud of your boy. 

“Thank you, baby.” He quipped, meeting your gaze as you looked into his, a soft smile falling over his face as he leaned in to place a soft kiss on your lips. When you feel the contact, his warm, soft lips sending shocks of energy through your body, you feel Quinn’s hands against you tug in a way that speaks thousands of words without needing to. 

Just from the kiss and his touch, you know he is grateful to have you cheering him on, and being there after the game to congratulate him. You both knew, being busy with your own careers, it wasn’t often that you two would be able to spend a weekend away together during the regular season of hockey. So, the fact that you were here, waiting for him after the game and having plans for the rest of the night, you both knew was something you would cherish immensely. 

The plan was set that after the game, the group of hockey players and their wives and girlfriends would head to dinner at a restaurant close to the Broadway strip, before attending a few country bars and enjoying the rest of the night with live music. 

“Ready to head out?” Quinn asked, his arm still wrapped around your waist as you stood with the rest of the group in the arena. 

You hummed in response, “mhm. I’m excited for the rest of tonight.” You smiled softly, leaning your head on Quinn’s shoulder. 

Minutes passed by quickly as everyone cleared out of the arena, everyone driving separately to their hotels to quickly change and get ready for the night out in Nashville. Quinn had changed into a pair of jeans, paired with a white t-shirt that had a beer branded on it, along with his go-to pair of white sneakers. While for you, changed into light pink floral sundress and kept the same pair of cowgirl boots on to pair with the dress. Since the sun had well set hours ago and the chill of the night had taken over, you made sure to slip on a boyfriend-style jean jacket to give yourself an extra layer of warmth.

After freshening up, hand-in-hand with Quinn, you both walked down to the lobby of the hotel, waiting for Natalie and Tyler to make their way to the front and meet you to leave for the night out. 

It wasn’t long before Natalie greeted you, pulling you into a tight hug, even though it hadn’t been long since you last saw her– it was the dynamic you two shared and grew over time. 

With the uber waiting outside, you all begin to walk out, Tyler and Natalie walking ahead of Quinn and you, and you look over in the direction of your husband when you feel the touch of his hand on the small of your back as you walk outside to the car. 

“You look beautiful tonight,” Quinn smiled softly, rubbing his hand up and down your back and you turned your body to lean into him, a hand coming to place on his broad chest. 

“You’re too sweet, I love you.” You grin as you give Quinn a quick peck on the lip. You slide into the uber, Quinn following in behind and shutting the door once he was situated and the ride began shortly after.

As you all conversed together, you chatted here and there, but mainly listened, loving the sound of Quinn proudly speaking about things the two of you had done recently, or whatever the topic of conversation was. You let him talk, not minding the silence, and also being entranced by his charismatic persona. His hand was placed firmly on your exposed knee, caressing the skin and making your body heat up in response. You were always mindful of the fact Quinn still had his charm and ways of making you feel so full of love. 

By the time you arrived at dinner, the majority of the others were already seated, greeting the four of you as you entered and found your seats at the large table. The restaurant was country themed, as expected, the walls covered with memorabilia of the history of Nashville and its popular musical history. Once you were comfortable in your seats and the server came around, the four of you had requested a round of drinks and a meal for each of you that had called your name as you looked over what the restaurant had to offer. 

As you ate, drank and caught up with the team, Quinn’s arm was splayed on the back of your chair, every so often running his hand up to your shoulder to give a soft squeeze of reassurance. 

You were deeply immersed in a conversation with one of the girlfriend’s of the players who you were sat across, about the new hair product she had just tried and highly recommended when Quinn’s hand found the small of your back once again and you felt the warmth of his presences increase as he leaned in closer to you. 

“I’m gonna run to the washroom, okay? You good? Need anything?” He asked softly in your ear over the loud noise of the audience in the restaurant and the music that played over the speakers. You smiled softly at him and nodded, reaching your own hand to his forearm where you gave a reconfirming tug that you were content. 

The blonde from across from you cooed at the interaction, “You two are so adorable, almost about time you start making some mini version of each other!” She exclaimed. You let out a laugh at her remark, knowing that was a hot topic of conversation for a lot of people in your and Quinn’s lives. Your parents and even Quinn’s had started to ask the question of when you two were going to start having kids, and of course it was something you talked about, but you both had agreed it was something that you would wait on, and the right timing would come when necessary. 

Ashley’s head popped up at the conversation, quirking her head to the side in amusement and a smile beginning to break through. 

“Oh, what are we talking about?” She eagerly pressed, leaning in your direction. You only shook your head and rolled your eyes at her excitement. Ashley had recently given birth to a beautiful boy, Carter, and ever since she had her first, she had incessantly pried at when it was going to be your turn to have a little one welcomed into the world. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you laughed at Ashley’s interest, earning quick nods from her. “We’ve definitely talked about it.” You responded to the initial question. 

“Talked about what?” You heard from behind you, as Quinn found his seat again, his arm immediately taking its place on the back of your chair. 

“How you two would make the most beautiful babies and should definitely give Carter a little best friend.” Ashley responded in a sing-song voice, fighting the urge to let out a giggle. 

Quinn hums and tilts his head back slightly, “Ah, I see. Well, then yes, we’ve definitely talked about it, but I wouldn’t mind having a little one sometime soon.” He smiled towards Ashley who looked like she could almost burst from excitement. Quinn’s hand found your thigh, giving a quick squeeze to grasp your attention and you looked over towards him, a knowing look in his eyes. 

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, knowing what the certain look he gave meant. It was similar to the one when he would reassure you in moments where you needed support, the look when he would make sure you were honest with him with your needs. Even the look he gave when he first asked you to be his girlfriend, the first time he said he loved you and the time he asked you to marry him. 

Who knew one small look from the man who changed your life completely, could mean such an array of things. 

—

Later that night, after dinner had wrapped up and you all began your journey to some of the famous country bars on the strip of Broadway, Quinn and you walked together with your hands tightly intertwined, swaying back and forth with each step. 

You entered the one bar, live music filling the room with the sound of country music hitting your ears. You had followed the group to the bar, ordering one of their specials before finding a small table to stand around. Quinn’s arm tightly wrapped around your waist, holding you close to his side and his warmth radiating off of him, left you in a content state of peace. You looked up to Quinn, meeting his gaze which was so loving and endearing you knew he was so appreciative to be here with the person he loved more than you would ever know, and when a slow, love song was introduced by the live band and you excitedly urged him to slow dance with you, he without a doubt followed the drag of your hand in his towards then open dance floor. 

His hands found your waist and your arms locked behind his neck, his forehead leaning down against yours as you listened to the band cover Morgan Wallen’s “Chasin’ You”. You swayed back and forth, letting the music bring you into a trance of pure bliss as the world enclosed around the two of you.

When the song ended, Quinn’s eyes that had fell shut, opened to look down at you, and he instinctively placed a soft, wet kiss against your lips, the taste of his drink spilling into your own mouth as your hands tugged softly at the soft tips of his brown curls. 

“I love you so much, I’m so glad we’re here right now.” Quinn said softly, earning a smile to tug on your face as your stomach did a flip and heart skipped a beat at his words. 

“Me too.” You whispered softly, pulling yourself into his embrace and resting your head against his chest, still swaying. Quinn placed a delicate kiss to the top of your head, your hands now intertwined again on either side of you. 

“I want nothing more than to spend more time with you exploring places like this, and even expanding our family.” He said pulling away and giving that same, familiar look in his gaze. 

Your one eyebrow raised in question, “Is that so?” You pressed jokingly, as you couldn’t help but smile in such adoration for the brunette. 

“More than.” He smiled, pulling you into another tight, warm embrace.

a/n: i hope you enjoyed! feel free to send in requests! 🫶🏻

[aspenmissing]

Oneshot Request: Imagine, Jayce has a younger sister (age gap of 2-3 years) and he ships Sis Reader x Viktor sooo badly. Like, he tries everything, that these two finally become a thing. When Sis Reader x Viktor are after a looong slow-burn-romance-thing in a relationship, Jayce switches from the supportive, older brother to the "Hurt my baby sister and I throw you of the bridge". What would Sis Reader and Viktor too stunned to speak xD

ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴛᴄʜᴍᴀᴋᴇʀ

ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ!ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ!ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 2530 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴄᴏᴄᴋʙʟᴏᴄᴋ ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ (ꜱᴏʀᴛᴀ)

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ɪ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴇᴅ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ! ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀɴᴏɴ!

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ

Jayce had always been a meddler. Y/N had known this better than anyone, having grown up with him constantly poking his nose into her business. Viktor, too, had quickly learned this once he and Jayce began working together. But neither of them could have foreseen just how far Jayce would go when he decided they should be together.

It started subtly enough—small comments here and there.

“Hey, Y/N, did you know Viktor’s favourite tea is chamomile? You should bring him some next time you’re in the lab. He’d love that.”

Or, “Viktor, don’t you think my sister’s the perfect blend of brains and beauty? Honestly, if she weren’t my sister, I’d set her up with my best friend. Oh, wait—that’s you!”

Y/N would groan, cheeks aflame, while Viktor shifted uncomfortably, his grip on his cane tightening as though it might shield him from Jayce’s relentless teasing. But Jayce didn’t stop. If anything, he doubled down.

He began orchestrating scenarios to throw them together. “You two can handle this project alone; I’m swamped,” he’d say, conveniently forgetting to show up for their meetings. He hosted dinners and somehow always managed to seat them next to each other. He even pulled blatant stunts like disappearing mid-lunch with a wink and a mumbled, “You two need some alone time.”

“Jayce, this is getting ridiculous,” Y/N hissed at him one evening as they sat at a dinner he’d arranged, her seat—of course—right next to Viktor’s. Jayce shot her an innocent grin that fooled absolutely no one.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied smoothly, though the mischievous twinkle in his eye betrayed him.

Meanwhile, Viktor tried his best to remain neutral, though the faint blush creeping up his neck was impossible to miss. He’d never been one for open displays of affection, but being caught in the orbit of Jayce’s scheming made things more complicated than they needed to be.

It wasn’t as though they didn’t like each other. In fact, Y/N and Viktor’s connection ran deep. They shared quiet moments in the lab, bouncing ideas off one another late into the night. Viktor appreciated Y/N’s sharp mind and her unwavering kindness, and Y/N admired Viktor’s brilliance and the depth of his character. Their bond was undeniable, built on a foundation stronger than even the most advanced Hextech core.

But there were obstacles. Viktor hesitated, fearful that his health and the demands of his work would burden her. Y/N, for her part, worried that crossing the line from friendship to romance might jeopardise everything they’d built. And so, they tiptoed around their feelings, hesitant to take the leap.

Jayce, however, was having none of it.

One day, Jayce stormed into the lab with the determination of a man on a mission. “Alright, that’s it!” he declared, startling both Y/N and Viktor, who had been quietly working at opposite ends of the room. “You two like each other. Everyone knows it. Just admit it already!”

They froze, wide-eyed and completely caught off guard, Viktor nearly dropping the tool in his hand while Y/N slowly turned to glare at her brother.

“Jayce, this is hardly—” Viktor began, his voice tinged with discomfort, only to be cut off.

“I’m not leaving until you confess,” Jayce announced, crossing his arms and planting himself firmly in the centre of the lab like an immovable object.

“Jayce!” Y/N’s voice was a mix of embarrassment and exasperation. “You can’t just—”

“Confess!” he demanded dramatically, pointing between them like he was officiating a duel.

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering something under her breath, while Viktor nervously adjusted his grip on his cane. The two exchanged a quick glance, a silent conversation passing between them in the space of a heartbeat.

Finally, Y/N let out a long sigh and folded her arms. “Fine. You want the truth?”

Jayce straightened, his grin triumphant. “Yes, finally!”

She hesitated for a moment, as if weighing her options, before shrugging. “We’re already dating.”

The room fell silent, and for a moment, it was as if Jayce hadn’t fully processed what she’d said.

“You’re… what?” he finally sputtered, his grin faltering.

“Dating,” Viktor repeated softly, though his tone was more resigned than triumphant. He glanced at Y/N, then back at Jayce, as if bracing for an explosion. “For a while now.”

Jayce blinked, his gaze darting between the two of them. “Wait. How long is ‘a while’?”

Y/N exchanged another glance with Viktor, who gave a tiny shrug. “Not that long,” she hedged. “Just… a few months.”

“A few months?” Jayce’s voice shot up an octave. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“Exactly,” Y/N said with a pointed look, “because of this.” She gestured to the dramatic scene unfolding around them. “Do you know how unbearable you’d have been if we’d told you straight away? You’d have taken all the credit!”

“Of course I would’ve!” Jayce said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Because it’s true! I’ve been trying to set you two up for ages!”

“That’s precisely why we didn’t tell you,” Viktor said, his voice dry but laced with a hint of amusement.

Jayce’s jaw dropped, his hands flying to his hips. “So you mean to tell me that I did all the work, and you two didn’t even have the decency to let me gloat about it?”

“We were sparing ourselves the torment,” Y/N replied flatly.

Jayce groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Unbelievable. All this time, I’ve been orchestrating the perfect set-up, and you were already together.”

“Well, not everything revolves around you,” Y/N teased, unable to hide her smirk.

Jayce stared at her, then at Viktor, before finally throwing his hands up in defeat. “Fine. Fine! But I’m still claiming partial credit for this.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Of course you are.”

“And,” Jayce added, his tone suddenly serious as he stepped closer to Viktor, “now that I know, let me make one thing perfectly clear.” He placed a heavy hand on Viktor’s shoulder, his gaze narrowing. “If you hurt my baby sister—even by accident—I will throw you off the bridge. Are we clear?”

Viktor froze, his grip tightening on his cane as his lips parted in stunned silence. “I… Yes, of course,” he stammered.

“Jayce!” Y/N exclaimed, shoving her brother aside. “What is wrong with you?”

“What?” Jayce said defensively. “I’m just making sure he knows the rules.”

“Your rules are insane,” Y/N shot back, though her voice lacked any real heat.

Viktor, still processing, looked between the two siblings, his expression caught somewhere between exasperation and amusement. “I appreciate… your concern,” he said carefully, his voice tinged with dry humour.

Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. “This is exactly what we were trying to avoid.”

Jayce just laughed, his smug grin practically lighting up the room. “You can’t avoid me forever. And hey, now I get to say I was right all along!”

One evening, Y/N and Viktor were in her flat, quietly enjoying the rare tranquillity of each other’s company. They were cuddled up on the sofa, Viktor’s arm draped loosely over her shoulders while she rested her head against his chest. The soft glow of the lamp lit the room in a warm, golden hue, casting long shadows that danced gently across the walls. A forgotten cup of tea sat on the coffee table, its steam now dissipated as the pair lost themselves in the quiet comfort of the moment. Viktor’s slender fingers traced absent patterns along Y/N’s arm, his touch soothing and familiar, while she smiled softly, her eyes fluttering closed.

The peace shattered as the door burst open without warning.

“Oi, you two better be dressed!” Jayce bellowed, covering his eyes dramatically with one hand as he stormed in, his heavy footsteps echoing across the room.

Y/N jolted upright in alarm, nearly elbowing Viktor in the ribs in the process. “Jayce! What the hell are you doing here?” she shouted, glaring at her older brother.

Viktor, who had been startled but managed to maintain his composure, arched a brow and deadpanned, “Perhaps next time, you could try knocking? Just a suggestion.”

Y/N snorted at Viktor’s sarcasm, but her frustration returned as Jayce peeked through his fingers with a smirk.

“Relax,” Jayce said, lowering his hand with an exaggerated sigh of relief when he saw they were fully clothed. “Just doing my duty as a protective older brother. Wouldn’t want to accidentally walk in on something scarring.”

“Jayce!” Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I cannot believe you.”

Jayce, grinning ear to ear and clearly unbothered, strutted over to the sofa like he owned the place. Without so much as a by-your-leave, he plopped himself down between them, making himself comfortable as the sofa sank under his weight. Y/N and Viktor, now separated, exchanged equally exasperated looks.

“What’s up, lovebirds?” Jayce asked casually, slinging an arm along the back of the sofa and stretching out with an air of smug satisfaction.

Y/N rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck. “Jayce, seriously? Don’t you have your own flat to bother people in?”

Ignoring her entirely, Jayce turned his attention to Viktor. “So, Viktor,” he began, his grin widening, “how’s it going? Treating my baby sister right, yeah?”

Viktor leaned back slightly, his expression both amused and weary. “I was under the impression that I am, though I’m sure you’ll correct me if I’m mistaken.”

“Good man,” Jayce said with a nod, clapping Viktor on the shoulder. “Because if you don’t…” He leaned in with mock seriousness. “You know what happens.”

Viktor tilted his head, his tone dry. “Let me guess—‘the bridge’?”

Jayce’s grin turned positively wicked. “Exactly! You’re catching on. I like that.”

“Jayce,” Y/N snapped, shoving him in the side with her elbow, “leave. Now.”

“Not until I’m satisfied,” Jayce replied smugly, refusing to budge.

Y/N sighed heavily and leaned back against the sofa, folding her arms. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re were cuddling,” Jayce pointed out with mock horror, waving his hand between the two of them. “What happened to ‘no PDA in front of me’?”

“Oh well I'm sorry that I wasn't expecting you to barge in here!” Y/N shot back, her voice rising in frustration.

Jayce shrugged nonchalantly. “Details, details.”

Viktor, now fully embracing the absurdity of the situation, chuckled softly. “He does make things… lively, I’ll give him that.”

“Don't encourage this,” Y/N muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose as Jayce stretched out even further, looking far too pleased with himself.

“What can I say?” Jayce said with a self-satisfied grin. “I’m the perfect mix of annoying and lovable. You’re welcome.”

Y/N groaned audibly, slumping back against the cushions. Viktor turned to her, his lips quirking into a faint smile before glancing back at Jayce. “So this is part of dating her, I take it?” he asked, his voice dry with amusement.

“Oh, absolutely,” Y/N said, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. “Welcome to the chaos. You’ve been warned.”

Jayce leaned forward, clapping Viktor on the back again with a grin. “You’re basically family now, Vik. Get used to it.”

“Lucky me,” Viktor murmured, his words edged with dry humour, though the warmth in his voice was unmistakable. He shot a sideways glance at Y/N, catching the faintest glimmer of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Y/N let out an exasperated sigh, her head resting comfortably against Viktor’s shoulder. She closed her eyes for a moment, soaking in the rare, peaceful serenity of their quiet evening, before speaking in a soft, almost resigned tone. “You’re never going to let us have a peaceful evening, are you?”

Jayce, unfazed by the irritation in Y/N’s voice, leaned back with a smirk plastered on his face, the twinkle in his eye as mischievous as ever. “Not a chance. I personally do not wanna be an uncle just yet,” he said dramatically, folding his arms over his chest as he settled even more comfortably on the couch. “And I’m sure Mama doesn’t want to be a grandmother either,” he added with a wink, as though the suggestion of the future was an absurdity he found utterly amusing.

Despite her earlier frustration, Y/N couldn’t suppress the small smile that tugged at her lips. She shook her head in disbelief, her eyes flicking briefly to Viktor, who had to fight back a grin of his own at Jayce’s antics. As maddening as her older brother was, Y/N couldn’t help but be amused by his antics. His chaotic, overbearing nature, his complete disregard for personal boundaries—it was all familiar, and in its own way, endearing. This was Jayce, the one who’d always been there, pushing her buttons, teasing her endlessly, yet somehow making everything feel... just a little brighter. Infuriating, sure, but undeniably hers.

“Are you done?” she asked, though her tone had softened, and her eyes were starting to glint with a fondness she couldn’t quite suppress.

Jayce, entirely unperturbed, leaned back even further, his arms casually draped across the back of the sofa as though he owned the place. “Not a chance,” he replied cheekily. “I’m just making sure you two know what you’re getting into.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, her head

sinking back against Viktor’s shoulder again as she let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “I swear, you’re like a shadow that never leaves.”

Jayce’s grin only grew wider as he leaned forward slightly, looking at her with a knowing glint in his eye. “You love it, admit it. No one’s ever bored when I’m around.”

Y/N sighed again, but there was no real heat behind it this time. “I swear, Jayce, you should’ve been a plague. No one can get rid of you.”

“Don’t think of me as a plague,” Jayce said dramatically, his hand pressed to his chest in mock hurt. “I prefer ‘your ever-loving, annoyingly good-hearted older brother.’”

Viktor, who had been watching the exchange with mild amusement, raised a brow and gave Jayce an amused, exasperated look. “I think I’ve got a pretty good handle on what I’m getting into,” he replied dryly. “I’ve been warned.”

Jayce leaned in, lowering his voice as if imparting a secret. “It’s not just a warning. It’s a life sentence.”

Y/N groaned in mock defeat, now fully resigned to the fact that Jayce was here to stay. “This is my life now, isn’t it?”

“Yup,” Jayce confirmed with an exaggerated nod, looking overly pleased with himself. “And don’t you forget it.”

Viktor chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement as he looked over at Y/N. “You really didn’t warn me enough, did you?”

She gave him a playful eye roll. “You really thought I could prepare you for this?”

Jayce stretched out dramatically, his legs sprawling across the couch, as if making himself even more at home. “You’d be surprised how adaptable you get. I’m like the chaos you can’t escape.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but there was a faint smile playing at the corner of her lips. Even if she’d never admit it aloud, she wouldn’t change her chaotic, overbearing family for anything.

[thewoollyviking]

Yes, Rose fucked up. She fucked up interpersonally with the gems and with Greg. And those choices were hers. She should be judged by those actions.

But why exactly do you think she kept those secrets? You think it’s because she’s some manipulative monsters or selfish coward?

No, it’s because she grew up under a living hell under the Diamonds.

Lemme give you some context here, friend;

According to the art books, all four Diamonds are rough around 20,000 years old. To give you an idea how old that is compared to irl history…

There are figures early humans carved from mammoth ivory and spear tip of flint that were made when the bottom of the North Sea was still a mammoth steppe in Doggerland.

Subtract the time Rose spent on Earth after the war (give or take a few centuries) and assuming the craptastic treatment she endured under the Diamonds has pretty much been the norm for all that time, and she had been abused for roughly 10-12,000 years. Rose’s pain predates written language and agriculture.

I. Do not. Give. A single. Chicken. Fried. Fuck. How sad the Diamonds think they were after losing Rose.

Oooooh booo fucking hooo Blue sulked in the middle of a human zoo Rose never even wanted in the first place.

Yellow knew she wanted to spare Earth and wanted to blow it up.

And White’s first action seeing “Pink” return was to send a mind controlled version of her original Pearl to greet her as a power move. To remind her what happens when she doesn’t control her power.

They didn’t mourn Rose. They mourned the person they wanted her to be.

And that’s made all the more clear once they realize Steven isn’t Rose. No moment to think about how Rose being gone was actually their own fault, not the act of some outside gem. Not moment to think about why Rose was so desperate to run away.

“Aww Pink’s gone? Gee that sucks. Welp, time to find a new pink!”

Fuck dude, some people mourn Healthcare CEOs more than the Diamonds actually mourned Rose.

And yet they get that nice fairy tale happy ending where they can be quirky space grandmas who think what they’re doing will ever hope to make up for the suffering they caused.

Meanwhile, Rose’s own loved ones feel like they have to apologize for daring to mention her in a positive light and say they’re making excuses for her.

Steven by the time of Future isn’t facing any gems that are actually a threat (bluebird is a joke character she don’t fucking count). He’s spent 5 seasons demonstrating why it’s better to talk about your feelings and the gems offer to help him at pretty much every turn and yet Steven chooses to forego that in favor of taking everything out on Rose.

The Diamonds have been the instigators who make every worse without fail. They’re the reason Rose came out as such a broken fucking person and yet we’re asked to pass more judgement on her for not being enough of a perfect fucking princess to solve things Steven’s way?

Rose spent her entire goddamn life clawing her way out of that pit of misery but we’re supposed to scoff at her for getting mud on her dress along the way?

What the fuck was the point in showing that Rose spent that lifetime trying to be better to just end it with “maybe her family would be better off if they just stopped thinking about her altogether.”

There’s a fucking reason this stupid fucking fandom took glee in harassing me and friends of mine for not joining them in burning Rose at the stake and it’s because of how Future, either due to time constraints or genuine creative decisions, completely dropped the ball on her.

I still love this show. But I cannot and will not ever watch Future. And if Rose ain’t there to heal, than at least let me take comfort in making the Diamonds hurt.

Sometimes I think about how and why some people had such a *bad* reaction to the end of Steven Universe, specifically in regards to the Diamonds living.

Even though they no longer are causing harm to others and are able to actually undo some of their previous harm by living, some folks reacted as though this ending was somehow morally suspect. Morally bankrupt, even.

And I think it might be because so many of us were raised on a very specific kind of kids media trope:

They all fall to their deaths.

Disney loves chucking their bad guys off cliffs. And it makes sense- in a moral framework where villains *must* be punished (regardless of whether their death will actually prevent further harm or not), but killing of any kind is morally bad for the hero, the narrative must find a way to kill the villain without the protagonists doing a murder.

It's a moral assumption that a person can *deserve* to die, that it is cosmically just for them to die, that them dying is evidence that the story itself is morally good and correct. Scar *deserves* to die, but it would be bad for Simba to kill him. So....cliff. (edit: yes, cliff then hyenas. But cliff first. Lol.)

Steven Universe, whatever else it's faults, took a step back and said "but if killing people is bad, then people dying is bad", and instead of dropping White Diamond off a cliff, asked "what would actual *restorative*, not punitive, justice look like? What would actual reparations mean here? If the goal is to heal, not just to punish, how do we handle those who have done harm?" And then did that.

Which I think is interesting, and that there was pushback against it is interesting.

It also reminds me of the folks who get very weird about Aang not killing Ozai at the end of Avatar. And like, Ozai still gets chucked in prison, so it doesn't even push back on our cultural ideas of punitive justice *that much.* and still, I've seen people get real mad that the child monk who is the last survivor of a genocide that wiped out his entire pacifist culture didn't do a murder.