#it's been happening every 2 weeks for the past 6 weeks so like.. i fucking get it.

[moonstruckme]

Okay I’ve been thinking of request ideas for Thawing Out all day while I was at work 😂 What about if something happened with her on the way to practice (nothing serious but maybe it shook her up a bit) and she was late and clearly acting off? Obviously her boys are going to notice…

Love you as always, hope you’re doing amazing! 💖💖💖

Thank you Amber my love!!! Hope you like it <3

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16

cw: modern au, chronic pain, mention of harassment

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.6k words

You come into the rink with quick, determined steps, blitzing past every door in your path until you get to the bleachers. Sirius is already on the ice, Remus leaned against the boards while he watches. Both boys turn when you sit down. 

“Hello,” Sirius calls, clearly chuffed to have you here as a buffer between him and your bristly coach. “Where’s my latte?”

“No time today,” you say back. You jam your foot into a skate. 

Remus gives you a scrutinous look. “You alright?”

“Fine. Sorry I’m late.” 

You get your skates on in record time, laced up tight enough to hurt. Sirius is ready for you in your starting position, his hands firm on your shoulders. He gives a little squeeze, meant to coax a smile out of you, but you’re in no mood. 

“I was just fucking with you about the latte,” he says lowly. “I don’t need it to get through practice, though he has been especially insufferable this morning.” 

You glance at Remus. He looks the same as always, half relaxed and half watchful. He and Sirius have fallen into a routine of petty spats that you suspect don’t exactly make him look forward to practice every morning, and yet he seems to be getting used to the both of you. He’s less curt than he had been during your first few days together. 

“You only say that because you were here alone with him,” you say. 

“It didn’t help. Without you here he’s in his most unfiltered, fogey form.” 

Your skating is as near to flawless as it’s been in weeks. You throw yourself into each jump with everything you have, using the hot emotions simmering beneath your skin to your advantage. And it works. Remus looks caught offguard but directs several nods of approval your way, whereas Sirius is all untempered joy. His grin widens with each flawless landing, and when you finish your most difficult move in the routine he actually whoops. You think you see Remus’ lips twitch at that. 

“There she is!” Sirius grips your hand, squeezing tight as you go into a synchronized arabesque. His hair is pulled back into a bun, but a couple of loose pieces flutter around his face as he skates backwards. He looks so happy for you, and some of that tight feeling you’ve been carrying around all morning dissipates. You smile back at him. 

You both go into a lutz. It’s a jump you’ve done half a million times. It should be a given, perfect every time. And yet you catch your mistake in midair. 

You land on your hands and knees. 

You pant a couple of times, and your next breath scrapes on the way in. Tears press at your eyes horrifyingly fast, like they’ve only been waiting for their chance. You press your nose to the ice. 

Skates hiss until they’re next to you, Sirius’ hand on your back. 

“What’s wrong? What happened?” 

You shake your head, humiliated by your fall and even more so by this fracturing, how easily it came on. You feel pathetic. 

“Where is it?” Sirius’ voice climbs, growing shrill with panic. “Let me see. How bad is it?” 

He’s trying to sit you up, hands cold and gentle and frantic, but his touch stills when a warmer one meets your shoulder. 

“Are you hurt?” Remus asks. 

“No.” You finally find your voice, but it’s pitchy and awful. “I’m sorry.” 

“Fuck. Fucking hell.” In the next second you’re smushed against Sirius, who hugs you tight as soon as he knows he doesn’t have to be delicate with you. “You scared the shit out of me.” 

“I’m sorry.” Your face feels hotter than hot in the cold rink. You push into your eyes with your fingertips. “God, what the fuck! I thought I fixed it. I don’t understand why this is still happening.” 

You’re sobbing now, tiny explosions that start in your chest and ricochet all the way through you, but fuming all the same. 

“You were both right, I’m holding myself back. I thought I could stop, but it just keeps happening, and I can’t do this. I’m so incompetent I can’t even do a fucking lutz. We need to find Sirius a new partner. I can’t hold us back anymore, I—” 

“Hey.” 

Remus’ voice is harsh, but not as harsh as Sirius’ grip on you turns at the sound of it. Your partner’s face goes sharp and cruel in an instant, an animal bearing its teeth. 

Remus pays him no mind. He keeps his eyes on yours, firm and unrelenting. “Don’t speak about yourself that way,” he says. 

You feel Sirius’ hold slacken in surprise. 

Another tear trudges down your face, and Remus’ expression gentles. “Everyone falls,” he tells you. “You have been improving, faster than I thought was possible, but you can’t expect it to happen all at once. You’re still going to fall sometimes. It’s alright. We’re working on it, yeah?” 

You sniff, wiping underneath your eyes. “Yeah,” you squeak out. “Sorry.” 

“You don’t need to be sorry. Just give yourself some grace, yeah?” His lips press together in a little grimace that’s likely meant to be a smile. “It’s my job to be hard on you, not yours. You’re allowed to fuck up. It doesn’t make you incompetent, or unworthy of competing with Sirius. You are the best person to be his partner. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be here, understand?” 

“Yeah.” You take a deep breath in. “Thank you.” It stutters a bit on the way out, catching on another tiny sob you can’t help. This one comes from a place of relief, but Sirius’ cold fingers dig into your arm anyway and Remus’ brows twitch slightly as though it hurts him, too. 

“No problem,” he says softly. “Are you sure you haven’t hurt yourself?” 

You nod, closing your eyes to will yourself calmer. 

“Good. Do you want to leave off early today?” 

You swallow and start to stand. “No. I’m okay.” 

“No.” Sirius’ voice is bemused enough to sound like a question. He rises beside you, looking at you like he’s trying to puzzle you out. “No, something’s up with you today. We should stop.” 

Remus seems to go along with him, starting back towards the opening in the boards, and you think wryly that if one good thing comes from all this it might be those two finally starting to get along. You also realize for the first time that Remus is out here with you on the ice. It’s the first time you’ve seen him so much as think about coming off of the bleachers, even if he is only in regular shoes and leaning heavily on his good hip as he makes his way back towards them. 

“I’m okay,” you repeat to Sirius. 

He shakes his head. “You’ve been weird since you got here. What happened?”

“Nothing happened.” 

“Something did.” 

You push out a frustrated breath. “Nothing relevant.” 

“But something did happen.” 

He’s steering you towards the exit now. It feels petulant to rip away and stay on the ice even if no one else will, though that’s what you’d really like to do. 

“Are you actively trying to piss me off?” you ask him. 

Sirius shrugs, stepping onto the floor. “If that’s what’s going to work. I only want to know what got you so upset.” 

“Nothing.” 

“Here we are again. Back to ‘nothing.’” 

Remus is watching you both like you’re a show his TV has randomly flipped to. Tentative of where he stands, but definitely entertained. 

You hate that this has become such a big thing. “It’s really nothing,” you say, planting yourself on the bench with a force that perhaps belies your claim. “It was just some git on the way here this morning.” 

Sirius’ eyebrows go up while Remus’ come down. 

“And what did this git have to say to you?” Sirius asks. 

You sigh, starting to unlace your skates since apparently practice is over. “It’s not what he said. He only asked me out, which is fine, but then he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He, like, grabbed onto my arm and wouldn’t let go for a bit.” 

Sirius’ expression goes stormy. It’s almost as bad as the look he’d given Remus earlier, only without a target to be directed at. “Are you fucking joking?” 

“It was fine,” you say. “I made it here, didn’t I? It just freaked me out a little. And pissed me off.” 

“Yeah, you should be pissed!” Sirius starts pacing, mindless of the indents his blades are putting into the rubber flooring. “Who does that? Did he think—what, you were just going to have to go out with him if he took you captive?” 

“I don’t know.” You give him a dead-eyed stare. “I didn’t ask him.” 

“God, you should be able to walk to fucking practice in the morning without being accosted by—by some—”

“Do you need someone to walk with you in the mornings?” Remus seems uninterested in waiting to hear what creative insult Sirius comes up with for the git. He looks at you steadily, his jaw tight but ready to accept whatever answer you give him. 

“No,” you say. “Like I said, it was really nothing.” 

“It upset you,” he says matter-of-factly. “That’s not nothing.” 

“I can walk you.” Sirius plonks down beside you on the bench, seeming to have come to a decision. “Just wait for me inside tomorrow morning, and I’ll come pick you up.” 

You can’t help but smile at that. “If I leave it to you, we’ll never get here. There’ll never be another morning practice again.” Remus’ tongue pokes into his cheek like he’s repressing a grin. 

“Wha—so little faith!” Sirius sputters, straightening before he’s so much as touched his laces. “I’ll be there, okay? We will be needing to pick up my coffee on the way here, though.” 

You give him a skeptical look. “You realize I wake up a half hour earlier to have time to get those?” 

“Fucking hell! Do you really?”

[simpee9000]

Not Just Friends - 10 -

M.List : Prologue : Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Part 8 : Part 9 : Words 3.1k

Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? Also not edited!! CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.

It was a turn back to normal after the long conversation between the two of you. Tears sliding down your faces, majority yours but you saw a couple fall from his. It was a necessary conversation. He opened up about his quirk and apologized for ditching you. You apologize for the same.

Easily enough, the two of you moved on from it quickly. Talking about the past two months when all the overwhelming emotions passed. You blabbed about how many new offers you were getting and he talked about how he was hiring more and more people to his agency.

Despite not being able to ignore the last two months, it was easy to move past.

Growing past it within the night, having everything off your chest. It still didn't make things go back to normal.

You continued to share a bed, but changed your schedules around again to see more of each other. Flipping back into your old routine as much as possible. Not without a few changes though. Lunches would only be once a week rather than daily, and you'd be working for another hour or two after he got home. Since you wanted to sleep in still.

But it still improved your relationship again. Building it back up slowly. You were able to eat a late dinner together each night and share an off day. Sharing your off day made it easier for you anyway. After the break-in it was hard to be home without him, so the last two months were rough. Your therapist said you were doing great though, so that helped.

The first days of going back to normal was rough, having to adjust to seeing each other daily again. Conversations between the two of you felt awkward, mainly on your side. You grew so much in those two months, no longer relying on him. It shifted the dynamic.

"Y'good?" Katsuki's gruff voice broke your train of thought. Your eyes flickered up to him.

"Huh?"

"Been fuckin' playin' with your food," he points his fork at your plate, "Don't like it or some shit?"

"No, I like it," you looked back down. It was definitely not your favorite meal he made, but it was good.

His silverware claddered roughly against his plate, his arms crossing, "The fuck has been wrong with you?"

"Do you have to swear with every sentence?" you avoided, taking a bite of your food instead.

You could feel him roll his eyes along with his heavy sigh, "You've been off since."

"A relationship doesn't heal just like that," you pointed out.

"Will you look at me?" he asked annoyed. A glance up at his expression made you cut your attitude. He was trying, that much was obvious. And after all your talk of communication, you were doing nothing.

"Sorry," you set your fork down, engaging in the conversation, "I'm just lost? I guess. Hard to place it. I've changed a lot in the past two months-"

"How?"

You glared at him for interrupting you. "I've stopped prioritizing you. I'm more focused on myself now. It's hard to go back to normal when the 'normal,' was me running circles around you."

He shuffled in his seat, "That's fine. I'm glad you've moved on in that sense, done you good."

"You're not worried how it'll change us?" you asked softly, it's been all you were thinking of for the past few weeks.

"I'm always fuckin' worried," he admitted, eyes drifting to look at the wall instead of you, "But we'll work it out."

You were glad he still viewed the two of you as a 'we,' heart melting slightly as you reached your hand across the table. "I'm not going to tip-toe around you anymore, Kats."

"Good," he gruffed out, uncrossing his arms and grabbing onto your hand. Changing his focus onto that, "I don't want you to."

"Good," you agreed, smiling at how he let his thumb trace over your knuckles.

"You, um," he fumbled for a minute, eyebrows furrowing, "You're still okay with us not doing shit right?"

"I'd never push that," you confirmed, shocked he even thought you would complain about that.

"Don't get me wrong, I would, just-" he pulled his hands back wiping them on his pants before running them down his face, "my dumb fuckin' quirk."

"You love your quirk," you pointed out.

"Yeah and I'd fuckin' love to touch my girlfriend but no, I gotta be a horny virgin 'cause of it," he groaned, crossing his arms again.

Stifling a laugh was difficult, but you managed, "Maybe we can just work up to it? Get you used to the baseline first before, that."

His quirk went off suddenly, "Can't even fuckin' think of it," he groaned, standing up to go wash his hands off.

"It's cute." You followed behind him to place dishes in the skin, having cleared your plates a while ago.

"Fuck you."

"Hey," you laughed, "At least you can tell Denki and Sero that you beat them at No Nut November. And have for the past 19 years."

He shot you a glare from the sink, "The one challenge I wouldn't want to beat, great."

"It's what makes you number one to me, baby," you teased, kissing his shoulder as you moved past him, wanting to pester him while the mood was light and he was already flustered. It was nice how easy it was to move past something with him. But you wanted to test how much he'd react to you not tiptoeing around him anymore.

With success, his quirk popped off again.

"Fuck off."

You let out a crackle of laughter, "You're too easy."

"Die."

He finally stopped washing his hands, turning to dry them off. You watched from the counter, plotting. "Your back looks nice," you commented, his muscles have been more defined lately and you only got to appreciate it now. His tank top showcases his shoulders nicely.

He froze for a moment, side-eyeing you. "Do you want to get blown up or something?"

"No, do you want to get blown?" you asked back, letting Denki's crude humor influence you.

Like a charm, his quirk sparked off. "Quit it."

"Nah, it's too much fun," you smiled at him, kicking off the counter you were leaning on and moving to leave the kitchen. Hand squeezing his bicep when you walked by.

He didn't let you get even a step away before he grabbed your hand and pulled you into him. His hands grabbing at your hips and moving to push you into the counter. "Where do y'think you're goin'?" he smirked down at you.

Your face bloomed a deep shade, blushing harshly at how close he was. He hasn't been that close since you argued two months ago.

"Nothin' to say?"

You blinked up at him, trying to steady the rapid beating of your heart with the way he was tracing circles onto your hips.

"Might like you but that doesn't mean I'll let you say shit and get away with it," he crowded you closer to the counter.

"What happened to your quirk?" you whispered, losing your voice at the proximity.

"You offered to work up to it, right?" he brushed his hands clean on his shirt briefly before going back to your hips.

"Yeah," you looked down at his hands, trying to make sure the watch was off.

"It's off," he confirmed, twisting his wrist so you could see. When you looked back up at him, he held his gaze deeply, "What happened to that smart mouth?"

"Want me to show you?" you placed your hands on his chest, running over the span of his shoulders. Your body was on fire, the two of you flirted, sure, but this was different. His quirk was fully there. He was fully there.

His eyes lidded slightly, zeroing in his focus on your lips, "Fuck yeah I do."

Your lips closed the gap between the two of you. It wasn't as soft and nervous as all the past kisses, it was something you just threw yourself in. Stomach crazy with butterflies as your mind started buzzing. His hands tightened their grip on your hips as he stepped even closer to you.

Bodies curled into each other to get closer. Your hands digging into the hair at the base of his neck as you deepened the kiss. Full of passion and sexual tension. There was hardly any innocence to the kiss, and if there was, it faded within seconds.

A sigh of relief falling from your lips when his hands slipped under your shirt, brushing over your skin roughly. Fingers being callused and dry from work.

As soon as his hands met your skin he pulled away frantically. Pulling his body from yours completely before his quirk started popping off.

"Fuck me," he groaned in frustration, grabbing a dish towel and wiping his hands off.

"I wish I could," you teased.

He shot you a glare, blush flaring all over his face and coating his neck with a red. "Stop," he grumbled.

"Stop what?"

"Stop looking at me like that," he shied away, washing his hands in water for a moment.

You paused for a moment, considering how you looked. With how flushed his face was you could tell you were no better. Lips plumped and freshly kissed red as your shirt was ruffled up from his hands as you leaned back into the counter. "Why would I? You clearly like what you see?"

The confidence within you came from nowhere. There has been sexual tension between the two of you before, many times before. Even before he had the watch. But normally you had to be drunk as hell to make such obvious jokes towards him, especially ones about sex. Maybe it was the fact that it was on the table, when before it wasn't. You knew he wanted it as much as you did.

"Fuck off," he grumbled.

"Come on, Kats," you pushed your luck.

"I love you, but please stop whatever the fuck you're doing before we need a new apartment," he spoke without thought, freezing the second he realized what he said.

You barked out a laugh, he spoke so plainly. You didn't want him to get wrapped up in his head, so you ignored the rushing butterflies over his admissions. "Fine, fine," you gave in, smiling happily at him, "Hug?"

He looked at you, untrusting of you before he opened his arms, gesturing you near.

Taking the moment, you threw yourself in his arms. Wrapping your arms around his waist he pulled you in fully. Letting you rest your head on his chest as he rested his on yours.

Everything felt secure in your relationship, you'd move one step at a time together. With a lot of teasing between, but that was common between you and him, despite the lack of it lately.

"I love you too, by the way," you mumbled into his chest, having a happy feeling travel through your body at the small number of times he's actually said it.

"I know."

You moved slightly to look up at him, his eyes fell on yours before you spoke, "Are you hard?"

He glared sharply, embarrassment covering his features as you felt him grow hot. You were going to ignore the feeling of him pressing into your lower stomach, but decided you wanted the chance to rub it in his face that you have the upper hand here. He tried to pull away, only for you to keep your grip.

"Stop," he warned, his hands raised away from you.

"It's only a little spark, Kats," you tried to comfort.

With a roll of his eyes he smiled evilly down at you, "You asked for it," before you could protest, he wiped his sweaty hands on your face before rubbing the rest of it off on your sweater, down your chest.

"Katsuki! That's gross," you pulled away from him, using your sleeve to wipe away the damp residue of his sweat off your cheek before you pulled the bottom of your shirt out, seeing if he got sweat marks on it. "You just used that as an excuse to touch my tits," you glared at him, seeing the faint marks of his handprint on your shirt, right over your tits. It surprised you that he sweat enough to leave a mark.

He laughed sharply, walking out of the kitchen, "Got no proof, Brains."

"I literally have the proof of your hands on my tits," you called out to him.

He looked over you, "How do I know those are mine?"

"Really? Cause I'd let a random guy grope me and he'd be sweaty enough to leave a mark like you do," you snarked.

"No way to know," he shrugged.

"You're such an ass," you groaned.

His phone buzzing loudly cut off his laughter.

"This late?" you asked as you eyed his work phone.

"It's PR," he said as he furrowed his brows, answering the phone, "Dynamight."

You heard mumbling for a moment before he huffed and put his phone on speaker. "Can she hear me now?" the lady's voice rang through, the same manager you've spoken with before.

"Hello," you answered for him, "What can I do?"

"You've done quite enough," she spoke abruptly. It took a lot to get her mad, so to have pissed her off five words was a record. "People are spreading pictures of you crying in the middle of the street."

Katsuki's eyes shot to you, concerned.

"They also claim to of heard you talking to Deku, saying you said his name several times."

His concerned look turned to a glare quickly.

"I can explain that," you said quickly before Katsuki added his two cents, "I was having a rough time and decided to call a friend, simple."

She laughed, "It's not the simple. It was the night of your party. And with the lack of social outings between Dynamight and you, people are saying the two of you broken up."

"Why does this matter?" you asked annoyed. It was still a sore subject.

"It matters because bad things are being said about the two of you. It's not just Dynamight's image anymore, but yours too. They're saying he's abusive while also saying that you're sleeping your way to the top."

You've heard that said too many times to count. Both things. So filled with anger, you grabbed the phone from Katsuki's hand and hung up.

"The fuck?"

"I don't know! I'm annoyed," you huffed, tossing his phone onto the couch before pacing, "I'm sick of people talking."

"I get it's annoying but you're gonna hear it-"

"Not helping," you glared at him.

"PR helps get them to knock it off," he pushed.

"She hardly says anything but the obvious," you rolled your eyes, "We can just post a picture of us or something."

"How does that prove I don't hit you?"

You paused your pacing, "Under a truth quirk I said the worst thing about you was your socks. I think if you abused me I would have said that."

He gave up his fight with a shrug, moving to sit on the couch instead.

"Don't get me wrong, it pisses me off that they say that. There is just no way to prove otherwise. Nothing is ever enough for them," you corrected, not wanting him to get the idea that you were only concerned for yourself.

"If you think that, why are you so pissed right now?" he crossed his arms.

You shook your eyes off the flex of his arms, throwing your hands up in frustration, "Because everyone says that, I hate hearing it."

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone thinks you hit me or some bullshit," you huff.

"Everyone?"

"Like people that don't know you," you changed, "you're a softy and they ignore it.

"Who you callin soft?" he sat up straight.

You smiled at him, "Kats, you can't even look mad at me."

He glared at you, eyebrows being the only thing supporting it. His eyes were soft. "Die."

"Let's just forget about it," you sighed, not wanting to talk about the press or your relationship. Nothing stressful.

"Why were you even cryin' to Deku?"

"You," you admitted shamefully, looking away. Talking about this would be stressful.

When he said nothing, you turned back to him. He was staring out the window. The view was filled with city lights.

"I only called him 'cause I couldn't call you," you comforted, stepping closer to him.

"Could always call me," he spoke softly.

"Kats," at this point you were standing right in front of him

"Yeah?"

You swallowed quickly, "We don't need to do everything together."

He took a deep breath, "I know, just want you to know you can call me, no matter what."

"I already know that," you smiled fondly at him. It was one of the best things about him. No matter how mad he was at a friend or family, he would never ignore them if they needed anything, even a random call. He might ignore a stupid text, but he never missed a call from someone close to him.

"Good."

"Maybe," he looked up at you, "We don't do anything publically? If they think I'm dating you then good, if they think I'm not, I don't care."

"If you want," he shrugged.

"You don't mind?" you step closer to him, him making space for you by manspreading further.

"Not really, just don't go making 'em think you're dating that damn nerd."

"Okay."

"Want somethin'?" he looked at you with a brow up. His eyes flickering from your chest to your face.

"Seems like you do," you smiled, inviting yourself more into his personal space by straddling him, both knees by his side.

"What are you doing?" his hands were pushed outwards, far from you.

"It's fine," you hushed him, sitting your weight on his lap.

"We didn't even do this stuff with the watch," he hissed at you, face flushed.

"Yes we did," you looked at him confused, "I made you cum y-"

"Shut it," he huffed, hands popping with the sound of his quirk, "Get off."

"Look, if you really want to, I will, but I don't think you want me to," you didn't want to force him into anything.

"What even put you in this mood?" he glared at you.

"You looked at my tits," you shrugged.

"Cause you still have my handprint on em," he smirked proudly.

You looked down at them quickly, "Bakugo."

"What? It's how it should be."

"Will it stain?"

"Shouldn't."

"I hate you," you glared at him.

"Sure, cause one glance at your tits makes you wanna jump me, cause you hate me," he was too cocky.

"Shut up you can hardly kiss me without losing your mind," you fought back.

"Kissed ya earlier didn't I?"

"Barely, come on, kiss me like a man-"

Forgetting his prior reluctance, he pulled you into him. Connecting your lips in a messy kiss as his hand held you to him by the back of your neck. Slowly losing its grip before sliding down to your waist. Losing himself into the kiss just as you were.

You were shocked he was even kissing you, cherishing the win regardless. Moving more onto him. Wrapping your arms around him, scratching at his scalp as you pulled on his hair.

The groan that left his lips encouraged you to push down more in his lap, wanting something more. You could never get enough of him. Anything he'd give, you'd take.

A rough push of yourself onto him caused his quirk to go off, not just a small spark either.

It singed your top, burning your skin.

You jumped off his lap once he let go, holding your sides.

His hand was placed right over your old scar.

Posted late cause I forgot to finish the chapter, and the tag list is being a bitch rn. (phone is glitching and laptop is weird) if it's fucked up mb.

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[bigification]

A Large Pair of Swim Shorts

The weather is beautiful today. It's a hot summer day, only slightly overcast, but that won't stop you and your boys from having a beach day.

"It's so nice to finally get out." John said with a sigh of relief.

"Yeah, boss has been workin us to the bone this week to get that house built. I can't wait to lay down and do jack shit all day." Pete chimed in.

You finally reach the sandy beach and walk over to a nearby picnic table. You slam the beer filled cooler onto the table and start opening up your beach chair for a well deserved rest.

"Hey boys! Look at this shit." John laughs while pointing at something obscured by the table.

You bend over to see around the table, but you don't see anything interesting. Just a blue beach towel someone must have left behind.

"What?" You scoff at him.

John runs over to the towel and holds it up for you like a dog would with a big stick.

"It's a pair of swim shorts you dumbasses!" John exclaims as he turns the shorts to reveal the drawstring.

"How much of a fat ass do you have to be for that thing to fit you?" You laugh at the comically large pair of shorts.

"Does that mean there's some whale swimmin out there naked." Pete erupts into laughter.

"Wait wait, watch this!" You say as an idea pops into your head.

You run over to John and snatch the shorts out of his hands. They look even larger up close, it's hard to imagine anyone actually fitting into this. You slip one leg into each hole of the shorts and pull them up to pretend you're wearing them.

"I bet we could easily fit all three of us in here." You struggle to say through your laughter.

"That's gross man! Who knows what kinda slob wore those before." John joked.

But the happy expression on your face quickly fades when a weird sensation shoots through your body. Your suspicions are confirmed as you look down and realize that your feet are rapidly growing. Within moments your average sized feet grow to size 20, then size 30, growing far past the size of any shoes in existence. They finally settle at about four times their size, making you look like a clown.

"What the fuck is happening to you man!?" John yells out.

"I-I don't know.." you respond.

But before you can get another word out, it continues. First your calves grow, forcing you to spread your legs and nearly doubling your height. Now standing at 11 feet tall, you have to look down at your friends to see them. Next your thighs expand, growing thick muscle and fat as they instantly shred through your old swim shorts and perfectly fill out the new ones. You once again have to spread your legs so they don't rub together. Also it takes a moment for you to catch your balance because the wind is much stronger up at 16 feet.

As if your massive shorts weren't tight enough around your thighs, your flat ass swells into two juicy cheeks that bounce every time you take a step. By this point, the shorts 'that would only fit a fatass' are skin tight, making it all the more obvious when your dick starts to grow. An obvious bulge forms over your crotch, snaking its way up toward your waist. Each surge of growth adds inches in both length and girth, as well as sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your dick finally stops growing at over 2 feet long and 6 inches thick, basically impossible to hide in any normal clothing but it's not like you'll ever fit into normal clothing anyway.

"Holy shit dude! Your dick is massive." Pete comments.

"I know right? It feels... so.... goooood." You moan as a large stain forms in your shorts.

And as if to trigger it, your upper body starts to grow. You can hear your spine reshape as it grows exponentially, leaving you at a staggering 22 feet tall. Your slightly chubby belly is completely replaced by a six pack with a sharp V line on your waist. Your chest and shoulders broaden to over 8 feet wide as your flabby chest is replaced by two perfectly muscular pecs with nipples larger than CDs.

The bones in your arms reshape as they grow nearly 12 feet long. Your biceps swell larger than a tree trunk and your forearms aren't much smaller. Your hands grow and thicken until they're larger than your camping chair. Large enough to pick up one of your friends in one hand. Each finger is larger than a water bottle.

That's not the end, however. Right now you're left with a comically small head compared to your hulking body. That all changes when you start to feel the bones in your head growing and reshaping. Your jaw becomes sharp and square, your nose becomes thicker, and your brow bone creates a shelf over your eyes. Finally leaving you over 24 feet tall and over 8 feet wide.

Once the transformation finally slows down, your new perspective lets you see something interesting buried in the sand. You bend down and lift the picnic table up as if it weighed nothing. You pull out some suspiciously large jewellery from the sand. A chain, a watch, and a pair of sunglasses that all seem to fit you perfectly.

"What the hell just happened. Pete did you spike my drink?" John asks.

"Nope, that just happened for real." Pete stutters.

"God this feels amazing." Your voice booms.

"You look so jacked, too." John points out.

"I know man! Watch this." You say excitedly as you pounce your pecs.

That's when you notice something interesting. Where you found the jewellery, there are what looks like two beach towels buried in the sand. Pulling them out, you realize they're two more giant swim trunks. Though they look significantly larger than yours.

A devious smile takes over your face as you reach to grab both of your friends. You toss them each into one of the massive swim shorts and watch in delight as they grow. A few cracking bones, swelling muscles, and moans later, you are left with two horny giants just like you. Although it seems unlike you, their transformations accentuated their more mature and rounded features.

[mapileonxputellas]

Beckham II: 2 That Day

Part 2 is here!!!!!

Short one for this part but I think some context is needed before I bring us back to the present day!

Hope you enjoy! Also in this the third place game doesn't exist.

(Part 1 can be found here x)

2nd July 2019, England vs USA, World Cup Semi-final

25th minute – 1 - 1

“This is a real battle out there isn’t it Sue?” Jonathon Pearce broadcasted to the UK, all eyes on the England team trying to defeat the US. Though they had gone behind very early on, an Ellen White leveller had brought them back onto even terms.

“It certainly is, you can see how much this means to all the players out there. None of this England team have ever experienced an occasion like this before but they seem to be carrying that emotion well.”

Out on the field it felt like an out of body experience. Before this the biggest game you’d played in would have to be a substitute appearance in an FA cup final, now you were starting the semi final at a World Cup. You were 19 and felt like the whole world was watching you.

At the start of the tournament you hadn’t been expecting to start but when Jill Scott picked up an injury in the round of 16 you’d stepped into the starting position next to Keira and never looked back. Receiving praise back at home for the level-headed game you played but still managed to bring out that touch of David Beckham in you.

It was a free-kick in the quarter-final that really brought you to the forefront of the nation. A slick ball which soared into the top corner of the net leaving their goalkeeper stranded and left everyone open-mouthed at home. You were never a nobody but now you were here to stay. Your Instagram following doubled and whenever you left the hotel in the past week the camera had never left you. The pressure was on.

“Fucking hell.” You swore coming up to take a corner for England nestled into the corner of the ground flooded with US fans.

“Nepotism trash!” “Daddy not here to hold your hand!” “Can’t even kick a ball!” “Weak!” “Spineless!”

The insults were flying in from every angle, everything was covered in the thirty seconds you had to wait to take the corner, of course your dad was mentioned but so was your appearance in the media. Newly turned 19 and yet it seemed like you were still the five-year-old girl who had her father carry her everywhere. Everyone just presumed you were an innocent little baby who couldn’t put in a tackle, you hated it.

But now was not the time to let that frustration out. Now was game time when nothing else mattered.

Your in-swinging corner found Millie on the edge of the 6-yard box but she couldn’t quite get the connection on it to trouble Naeher, instead giving her an easy catch but you could feel it coming.

The only problem is now there was now a break on. A quick release from the goalkeeper had set Lavelle free, Keira had stayed back but you couldn’t leave her one on one with Morgan in the centre.

You had one second to make a decision.

One second to work out how to stop her. You could try and get further back but you knew you had to stop it at source.

You were known for your pace so you had no trouble getting back to her but Lavelle was known for her trickery and skill.

In your head you made the best decision you could. You followed the rules you played football by and trusted your instinct.

That was where the world as you knew it slowly began to fade away.

“Oh that’s a nasty one from Beckham there and Lavelle seems seriously hurt.”

You thought it was clean, in fact you were sure of it. The contact with the ball was clear sending it flying out of play, you didn’t touch her other than her leg coming into yours as she came over the top of you and yet as she rolled around on the floor it was like the opposite had happened.

Suddenly you were surrounded by players in red, all screaming at you. “What the fuck did you do that for?” “Learn that one from your daddy did you?”

Millie came to stand in front of you, trying to block you from the players as Steph and Lucy surrounded the others at the referee.

“She didn’t touch her.” Millie defended you. “Tell your own player to stop cheating.”

You thought that would be the end of it. Tempers flared, emotions were high and you would get on with the match again. When the referee reached into her pocket you were convinced it was to calm everyone down, a booking usually helped to send a message out but when you saw it was red and it was flashed in your direction it was like time stopped.

“It’s a red card for Beckham, just like her father that name has once again come back to haunt England.” Jonathon commentated. “It’s a long way back for them here.”

You couldn’t believe what was happening. “Go and have a look yourself.” Millie shouted at the ref to overcome the noise in the stadium. “It was a clean tackle, she didn’t touch her.”

“The contact was enough to endanger the opponent. It’s reckless, dangerous and that it is a red card.”

“VAR has got to overturn this.” Sue Smith pointed out. “She’s nowhere near her opponent, it’s not even a yellow card.”

“When you make a challenge like that you bring about a decision from the ref.”

“But that’s what VAR is here for, to show the referee what actually happened. Beckham has arguably been one of the players of the tournament and yet she could be remembered for just this moment.”

It could have been minutes, it must only have been thirty seconds that you stood there. Waiting for some to tell you it had all been a big mistake. Apologies would come and you’d be able to restart the game.

Instead VAR confirmed the red card. You’d been sent off in the most important game you’d ever played in, maybe would ever play in.

This time though it felt like the impact hit you immediately, looking back it was probably the reason you hated showing any emotion now. Your teammates tried to comfort you as the tears started to come but the guilt was already too much, you couldn’t bare to be around anyone right now so pulling your shirt over your face you walked back inside. Every step towards that sideline felt like you were wading through quick sand, the boos from the US side ringing in your ear as you tried to head to the tunnel.

Before the match had begun your brother had FaceTime’d you, at the time you imagined looking up at them at the final whistle, perhaps celebrating with them. Now you couldn’t face looking where you knew they would be sat. The disappointment from yourself was too much to handle right now never mind disappointing your idol, your father.

You can vaguely remember Karen Carney coming out to meet you on the touchline, a kiss being pressed to your head and a little muttering of “keep it together” in your ear. Maybe it was for the best that everyone else was busy trying to reshuffle the pack a few sympathetic faces were thrown your way but you knew football didn’t have time for sentiment. Maybe it was also for the best that Phil didn’t even look your way, your favourite kitman met you to head back into the changing rooms with you but the rest didn’t even bat an eyelid at you.

It was only when you got inside, when you were all alone that the emotion fully came out.

The anger, the pure sadness, the hatred you felt towards yourself. It started that day and it felt then like you’d received a life sentence. A life sentence hating yourself.

……

“Phil, a lot happened out there today. Can you tell us your overriding emotions right now?”

“Oh I’m just proud of every dingle girl out there who competed to the very end. They gave it their all tonight and this result shouldn’t tarnish their pride in themselves or in each other. They stuck in the game when it seemed like other people threw it away.”

“We can’t shy away from Y/N Beckham, what were your thoughts?”

“As football players we know that every tackle we put in can lead to a card and she made that decision. It’s hard because I know the talent is in there but talent can’t be everything.”

“Do you think it should have been a red?”

“Like I said the referee was put in a position where she had to make the decision. We can all wish for different outcomes on the pitch but sometimes we just have to accept them.”

“How is she doing now?”

“As a team we are all very disappointed right and I think it’s the team we should be focusing on right now.”

“Fucking bullshit.” If this was your own bedroom perhaps you would have thrown the remote at the TV, instead you calmly had to just turn it off.

Maybe it wasn’t the best decision to turn on the TV when you got back to the hotel room. England had lost in the end, going 2-1 down to an Alex Morgan winner, they’d given it there everything but it just wasn’t enough.

In the two hours since the game finished you couldn’t count the number of times you’d cried. Firstly on your own, then with some of the girls, then on your own again on the bus and yet not a single word had been said. You knew you’d never be able to say sorry enough times and they knew it was no use telling you anything right now. Though you were crying it was almost as if you were blank inside, you couldn’t take in anything else right now. Your usual spot on the bus next to Keira was left vacant, instead you found a little corner and tried to kid yourself and other that you were asleep when how could you be with all the thoughts swirling in your mind.

Your phone lay switched off on the other side of the room, that interview being the first real insight you’d got into any opinions on the matter. He was right, he might not have said it outright but it was obvious he blamed you. When Phil brought you in for your first senior camp fans were concerned about favouritism but if anything it was the opposite. He had this almost saintly view of your dad and you would never be anything compared to him.

You knew he would be worried, he tried to protect you from everything growing up but now he was powerless. Yet even knowing that you couldn’t bring yourself to switch the phone on, answer any of the messages or calls you’d received before you turned it off on the couch.

It was all too much.

…..

The plan was always for you to spend the 2 weeks you had off after the weekend in the south of France, a quaint villa in the middle of nowhere which you’d had since you were a child. This place was one of the only true places you could just be yourself. You could vividly remember the holidays there once a year being the only time you felt truly free. Your father would spend every second of the day just being a father and your mother could show you her true self, the fun and carefree woman she was away from the pressures of the public eye. This was the place where yourself, Brooklyn and Romeo would spend hours on the beach with a ball and jumpers for goalposts, where you all taught Cruz to ride a bike and Harper to swim. This place meant so much to you.

It felt wrong to tarnish this place with the thoughts you had right now.

That’s why when you touched down in London the following day instead of rushing back to your apartment to pack and meet your family at the airport, you sat, staring at the clock. Time passed, they would have waited for you to arrive and slowly realised you weren’t coming. They would probably be worried and it was for that reason only that you finally turned your phone on. The messages flooded onto your lock screens, dozens of missed calls came through but you ignored them all simply sending a message to your mum claiming you were fine and didn’t want any company right now, only one of those statements being true.

Maybe you should have expected the phone call that immediately came up from your father but they also should have expected your immediate response, decline.

You always thought you were quite strong about the media. You’d grown up with famous parents, you sadly were used to comments about every aspect of yourself from your appearance to the way you spoke. In your time at Chelsea you’d had your fair share of stick from the fans about your place in football but before this you’d proved everyone wrong.

People called you dumb, you passed all your exams and were studying part time for a degree.

People commented on your appearance, your friends and family’s comments opposed that.

United fans taunted you in an FA cup match, you stuck the ball in the top corner and celebrated right in front of them.

All those times you’d known they were wrong and could do something about it. All that media training and yet in that moment you broke the number one rule and opened Twitter.

The results were more horrendous than you ever could have imagined. Not only were there comments about your performance, but they also came for your family, your friends, yourself. The death threats were constant, every other comment on an article link were suggesting this was punishable in unimaginable ways.

Instagram though more concentrated felt worse when you checked a post from your best friend outside of football, comments were left under her post for even just being associated with your name. Taunting her, taunting you and threatening the both of you. Not only had you disappointed everyone but now you were putting those you loved in danger.

Leaving Instagram, blurry eyed and shaking like a leaf, twitter was opened once again. You couldn’t stop and the more articled you read, the more the panic started to set in. People knew where you lived from media pictures, it wouldn’t be long before they came here again. You lived in a gated community but they’d find a way in. You’d never be alone.

Your throat was closing in, it was becoming harder to breath as you panicked more. The only thing you could do was phone the only person who would understand.

“Dad…. dad I need you.”

……

Everyone probably thinks they have the best family but in this moment you knew yours were the best. Thirty minutes on from that phone call you were in your old family living room, curled up in blankets next to your mum and dad, eating homemade chocolate cake and listening to your sister talk you through her week. The biggest drama in which being a girl who took the last apple juice carton and left her with orange juice, which to an eight-year-old felt like the end of the world.

You hadn’t even said another word on that phone call before your dad was ordering you to pack a bag and promised he would be with you in less than ten minutes.

“Why didn’t you go to France?” Your thoughts came out. “We were meant to go.”

“Like we were ever going to leave you here alone,” Your dad chastised you. “I know you well enough to know you might not have needed us in that moment but we were always going to be there when you did.”

“I didn’t mean to do anything, I thought I made the right decision and now people are threatening me. They’re going to find me.”

“They’re not.” Your mother immediately comforted you. “I’ve watched enough football over the years to know tackles like that are made every week and they never get punished. Football is a game, you live for it but it’s a game and people sometimes forget that. You were a big reason England even got to the semi-final and people need to remember that.”

“What did your teammates say?” Brooklyn asked from the next sofa with my other brothers.

“I haven’t spoken to them.”

“What? You flew home with them this morning.”

“I can’t look at them. They’re all sad because of me, everyone knows it, they were always on the back foot because of me and now they’re going home.”

“Millie messaged me this morning.” Brooklyn said. You were of course very close to the Chelsea girls and they’d met your family more times than you could count. You remember they exchanged numbers before you went away on a summer camp one year just in case they needed to contact your family. “She asked me to look after you, they’re not upset.”

“They’ll never admit it, at least not to my face but how can I play with them again after all this.”

“They’re your friends.” Your mum implored and she was right. You were the youngest in the world cup but yourself Leah, Keira and Georgia had formed a little England squad bond. Your sensible and often shy nature balancing out their craziness.

“They’re better off without me. I need to get out of here.”

“Out of where?”

“Out of England, I can’t stay.”

[chaoswillcalmusdown]

we adjusted my medication two weeks ago so the doctor was like "you might still get one more period bc there might be an ovulation in progress, but after tHAt we should really see an end to the periods"

and now 2 weeks on. when i'm getting a slight increase in the menopause symptoms after they finally started petering out....... guess fucking why?

yep. winter is coming.✌🏽🤪

the frequency of the nausea that i'm getting with this endo treatment is so irritating

and the head and muscle aches just keep returning when i think they're finally over

aaand now i've had 2 days of fucking cramps. i've been taking estrogen blockers for nearly 3 months !!!!!!!! i should not be getting fucking cramps anymore !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[stars444hearts]

big reputation || 2

caitlin clark x actress! reader masterlist - prev - next warnings: none

caitlin_clark22

Liked by kate_martin03, yn_ln, and 820,508 others

caitlin_clark22 by the grace of whatever’s up there 🙏🙏🙏 Tagged: kate_martin03

View Comments

kate_martin03 caption’s tuff →caitlin_clark22 enough. 

user1 WAIT IS IT A NOD TO Y/N’S TWEET →user2 its def not they don’t even know each other →user3 NO Y/N LIKED THE POST

—

Y/n smiled as she read through Caitlin’s comments. After the eye-opening conversation she had with Kate last night, Y/n had become more open to the idea. 

She also thought the caption was cute. 

Y/n groaned as her stomach grumbled. She placed her phone on her bed, stood up, cracked her spine, and walked into her kitchen. 

Y/n decided to make something easy, then sit on her couch and binge-watch crappy reality tv. This was her first week off in months and she would spend it rotting in her living room like every normal 21-year-old. 

Y/n couldn’t tell you the number of below-deck episodes she had binge-watched, but by the time she finished, the sun was down and the crickets were chirping. She begrudgingly stalked back to her bedroom, changing into her pajamas and throwing herself down on her bed. 

She picked up her phone, only to drop it a second later in shock. 

[yn_ln]  Caitlin Clark                            4h ago sent you a message

—

Caitlin, on the other hand, was freaking out. She had never even spoken to Y/n before, but Kate had convinced her to DM her. 

Caitlin probably typed and retyped her DM 50 times before settling on a ‘hey !’

Caitlin groaned and shoved her phone down after finally hitting send. She couldn’t help but picking up her phone every ten seconds to see if Y/n had opened or responded to her DM. 

After 10 minutes, Caitlin had eventually given up hope of a response and sighed, turning off her phone and putting her head in her hands. 

Caitlin buisied herself by ordering doordash and sitting on her couch, rewatching film her coaches gave her to look over. She lost track of time and found herself mindlessly picking at her fingers, only coming to when she realized it was past midnight. ]

She groaned as she stood up from the couch, attempting to rub the sleep from her eyes. Caitlin walked into her bedroom as she sat on her bed. She picked up her phone and almost threw it when she saw her most recent notification. 

[caitlin_clark22] Yn Ln                            20m ago sent you a message

— 

Caitlin  hey !

Y/n hey yourself sorry for leaving you on delivered i was binge-watching below deck

Caitlin which one?

Y/n mediterranean, duh

Caitlin good. That's the best one Yn liked this message

Y/n so, i’m assuming kate told  you to dm me?

Caitlin well, to be honest, i had kinda been wanting to ever since i met you on facetime with kate. 

Y/n brother that was 6 months ago 💀

Caitlin LEAVE ME ALONE, OK i'm just a girl

Y/n SO REAL whenever people tell me im doing  something wrong i get so annoyed  like im just a girl that curb shouldn’t have been there 😠

Caitlin LMFAOO Anyways, yeah, kate finally bullied me into texting my celebrity crush who she just  happens to be best friends with

Y/n 🤨🤨 is that all i am to you?? a pretty face?

Caitlin NO NO I DIDN’T MEAN IT LIKE THAT I SWEAR

Y/n LMFAOO im just fucking with you anyways, going back to that… celebrity crush, you say? 🤨😏

Caitlin 😶 moving on…

Y/n no, no i wanna know

Caitlin umm… basically i’ve just been really obsessed with your show lately and kate told me i should shoot my shot but im now realizing maybe i should save that for the court

Y/n LMFAOO nah, kate was right she showed you my tweet, right?

Caitlin yeah, why?

Y/n because i wasn’t kidding. 

[cherricola-star]

Come out Baby

What happens when you get bratty with your boyfriend and lash out? Obviously he's gotta remind you who's allowed to hit who.

Disclaimer: this is in no way me trying to promote hitting ur partners especially without consent and if they don't have a kink for it. Also this isn't proof read sorry I'll fix it later.⭐

Tags: spanking, slapping, spitting, heavy degradation, gn!reader × bangchan, no protection (please don't do that wear a condom) , face fuckin, choking, edging, ruined orgasms, etc.

12:34 a.m, that's the time your phone shows you when you've reached the door of your apartment. You honestly didn't mean to stay out late but, how could you not when there were so many fun things to do and buy? Of course your wallet is a little salty and your feet hurt but a little adventure never necessarily hurts you.

You carefully open the door in hopes to not wake up your boyfriend who's been spending the week with you. You both have a weekly routine where you spend the week at his house and he spends the week at your apartment and from there on it alternates. As you push open the door you see the lights are off and breathe and sigh of relief.

Aren't you so naive. You toe your shoes off and leave your bags by the door before heading to the kitchen for a cup of water. It doesn't take long for you to be hydrated enough to decide to get ready for the night and sleep. You hightail to the bathroom and freshen up deciding to forgo your clothes since you and your boyfriend sleep separately anyways. Upon finishing ur shower you feel a migraine coming on not a big one, but on enough to make you feel slightly irritated and even more desperate to get in bed.

As you reach the bedroom and open it you see your boy friend up on his phone doing whatever it is he's doing.

"Chan?" You call out to him clearly confused as to why he's awake.

"So you've finally decided to come back? Or did you remember that you had someone waiting for you and home?" His eyes are still on his phone as he speaks to you in a condescending way.

"One look at me when you're talking to me and two why does it matter what time I get home? It's my apartment. It's not like I'm at your house where I have to follow your every demand." You're fed up why? You're not sure but, your migraine has definitely given you an attitude you wouldn't dear give your beloved Channie at all..until now at least.

You watch as he shuts the phone off before getting up and off the bed to come towards you.

"it matters when you've been out all day and you don't even call or return my texts. Apologies for being worried about you because last time I checked the only time you have self awareness and self preservation is when you're not being a ba-"

You cut him off with a slap to the face. Not hard enough to turn his face but, enough to shock both you and him at the same time.

"I..I-I sorry I didn't me-" you try to stutter out your apology before he shut you up.

You watch as he takes a deep breath before speaking. "You have 10 seconds to run away and hide somewhere before I fuck you up." The way he says in a calm manner is absolutely terrifying and you stand there frozen.

"1"

"2"

Things don't register until he's hit the second number. That's when you decide to leave the room.

"3"

You have very few options right now, the living room, kitchen, bathroom, and guest room.

"4"

By four you've made a decision and ran to the spare room to hide in the closet.

"5"

Once in the closet you're left alone with your adrenaline. Of course you're scared but also extremely turned on.

"6"

You and Chan have talked about things like this in the past but never acted on it in fear of hurting the other.

"7"

7 is the number you both are on as you count with him but mentally in your head. Between ur legs has become unbearable and you're aching for release.

"8"

"9"

"10"

The counting stopped. You're on edge as you hear him make his little remarks to lure you out or to scare you even more. Honestly it's hard to tell when you feel like prey being hunted.

"Come out baby I just wanna talk." after that sentence you hear a cupboard slam close assuming that he was in the kitchen.

"Aren't you cold darling? You weren't wearing anything when you chose to be a rude bitch and slap me. I was only caring for you." You tighten your legs together in hopes that some friction would bring you relief. The both of you had talked about heavier more disrespectful degradation and dirty talk, finding out that you both liked a bit more than usual.

As the thought ends you hear the door of the spare room open.

"C'mon baby, I know you're a bit dizzy but I didn't expect you to be so dumb" he rips open the door to the closest you're hiding in before grabbing you by the hand and dragging you back to the room you both share. He pushes you to your knees so that you're eye level with his sweat pants pants.

You stare at his bulge lustfully before feeling his hand snake behind your head and pushing you into it.

"See something you like baby?" You look up to him and meet his eyes before nodding at him. He tanks your head back before pulling his pants down to show his cock off. It's fuckin huge. No matter how many times you stare at it, suck it, or take it, it's always fuckin huge.

He takes a hold of it before slapping it on your face and spewing degrading comments. "I can't believe I got slapped by a common whore" he huffs "Honestly look at you. You turn cock dumb the moment I even show it off."

You moan at his words knowing it's true.

"suck" he states and you stare at him dazed and a little bit behind.

"What do I have to fuckin hand feed you? Suck." His words finally register to you and you go in to start licking his swollen leaking tip. Suddenly your face feels warm and you're looking to your left? You readjust your vision and see that his hand is in the position of the aftermath of slapping someone.

"I said suck not lick." He stares down at you with a scowl and for a moment you feel bad.

You take him into your mouth and start bobbing your head finding a rhythm as he groans. He then fists your hair before starting to fuck your face roughly.

He lets out a groan as his head is flung back with eyes rolling in pleasure, "Fuck baby your mouth feels so fuckin good. So wet and tight", he pulls you off his cock before manhandling you up right and pushing you on the bed. "Now I think it's time for the baby's punishment don't you think?" It's a rhetorical question, not one you're meant to answer but, you nod your head anyways while watching his lips curve into a sinister smirk.

.

.

.

.

To be continued....

Part 2

I REALLY WANTED TO GET SOMETHING OUT BECAUSE I HAVEN'T POSTED IN A WHILE AND IM SUUUUUPES SORRY FOR BEING SO LATE WITH ITTT. FORGIVE ME LOVES😖

also should I make a tag list?

[mo0nfairy]

I gotta see a part of yandere Leon where reader remembers him as they get through los Iluminados maybe some yandere in action lol (at least only if you want to!)

part 1. part 3. part 4.

tw :: obsessive!leon, yandere!leon, mention of drugs, framing, handcuffs, stalking, trauma, guns, wounds, heights, being locked up.

⸺ ooooooo !!! i've been meaning to make a part 2 of my last ask, but had zero idea where to go from where i ended. i also had played a bit of RE2 before the remake came out recently, so a piece of my brain has been kept up in raccoon city for a little while. i would love to express my thoughts and mesh these two games together !!

let's start with where we left off in los iluminados.

upon having your handcuffs taken off by the stranger who is far too close for comfort, you pace backwards, far away as you can get from this insanity of a man. his attitude abruptly shifts into something softer, a major contrast to the emotional breakdown he had just seconds prior. he realizes you're afraid — afraid of him. and as much as the mere thought destroys him to the point of breaking down again, he shoves a sob back down his throat and keeps his distance, despite how desperately he wishes to close it.

6 years. 6 years. he has been waiting over 2,190 miserable days for this single moment. all the sleepless nights spent searching the world for you; all the hopeless nights spent clinging to pillows, praying by some miracle it will somehow become you. every second of these past 6 years has been spent dreaming of this single moment. and even though your reunion wasn't the teary-eyed, passionate kiss in the rain he had hoped for, you are still here with him nonetheless.

and like hell will he let you slip from his grasp again.

with as much time as his needy self would grant him being physically away from you, he is soon at your side. leon then wraps you in his jacket and you swear you hear a harsh gasp escape from him when his finger accidentally makes contact with the skin of your neck. despite your negligence and more-than-obvious discomfort, you do appreciate the new warm embrace after a week of cold rain and damp clothes. it smells exactly like him, as well.

and with that, he's got a gentle hand hovering over your lower back as he guides you through the depths of this hellhole. and piece by piece, memories that had been buried in your brain begin to disinter themselves.

for example, you got a staring problem bro?? for the entirety of the time you spend with leon in los iluminados, there is literally never a single moment where this mans eyes are not on you. half of the time it is to ensure you are unharmed, but the other half consists of him staring in complete and utter awe. it's kind of hard to focus on surviving when leon is constantly staring into your soul. but it has just been so fucking long since he has been able to see you in all of your glory, so please excuse him for any inappropriate behavior on his end.

also, you knew you have lived in raccoon city for a short period of time before the events of RE2 happened, but like everything else that relates to that damned place, you couldn't remember a thing.

except now. leon's gaze uncovers a memory you have of yourself being held in one of the RPD holding cells. the atrocious scent, the uncomfortable bench, the paint peeling from the walls. you try and scrutinize what on earth you could have been arrested for, but your attempts are merely futile. but unbeknownst to you, your arrest was nothing but bullshit. and to say leon has had a crush on you from the second you moved into RC would be nothing short of the truth. so, by pulling some strings, the rookie had managed to lock you up for what he calls 'bonding time'. he'll place a chair backwards in front of your cell, prop his arms on the backrest and admire you with your full attention finally on him (instead of just stalking you around town).

two things you now remember about this man: he was so adorably baby-faced back then and my god, was he awkward. he still cannot talk for shit and i mean this with my whole heart. his sweet, innocent eyes gaze at you while he tries to play it cool, pulling cards like "yeah, i workout" and "you come here often?". all as if he hadn't personally arrested you for possession of illegal substances he planted himself. (nothing will happen to you, obvi. he just desperately needed a second alone with you to show off how charismatic he can be. or try to be, at least).

and for the short second of seeing him after 6 years, his eyes were just devoid of any life. you had assumed the trauma inflicted from that night had caused such a contrast in his physical appearance, and you would be right to assume that. but the soulless eyes, monotone voice, and lackluster personality was entirely due to your disappearance. days upon days of the lonely, eternal torment destroyed his sanity. however, that illustrious boy you can barely remember seems to have returned with your presence.

another thing you can't believe you had forgotten was how intense his stare is. the way he stares is illegible and sometimes overwhelming. he shivers in his stance, whimpers at your every move, and his mind runs rampant with all sorts of obsessive declarations of love. although it may seem creepy to others and especially yourself, do not fret. he has no ill intent towards you, god he could never! this puppy-dog of a man is simply marveling at your sheer existence.

you are able to retrieve another lost memory when you have to jump from a window and into his arms (for those who say he won't be able to catch you, stfu. have ya'll seen how beefy his arms are??? anyways....). the secret agent you have grown to like during your stay in los iluminados jumps down marvelously (most def showing off his james-bond-esque agilities to you). he now watches from below as you stare at the distance beneath you in trepidation. this distrust you have — he is going to travel to the ends of the universe to fix it. no matter what.

you begin to ponder, he has savagely brutalized all threats in your path and held your hand as if he were holding the world all in the same breath. you should trust him, especially after witnessing the pure display of loyalty he has for you.

"don't be afraid, y/n. i'll catch you, i promise!" there is 10000% a way to walk through the house and down the stairs to get to him, but ofc he's not gonna tell you. why would he willingly throw away the opportunity to be your knight in shining armor?

"you will?" your voice is full of apprehension. his stare on you feels like the same bullets he's forced upon your attackers.

"always."

with that, you rip the bandaid off and jump from the ledge. and leon was most certainly not lying. you land safely in his embrace and he wraps his arms tightly around your form. and to finally have you so close, after so, so long of devastatingly praying he could feel you once more.......... if he had a tail, it would for sure be wagging so fast it would morph into a blur. and the way he holds you is different, as if his gentle nature is reserved for you and you only (which it is. this is literally him in a nutshell).

and when you had instinctively buried your face into his neck upon landing, clinging to him out of fear of hitting the ground, he literally melts. i'm serious, he literally just 🫠🫠🫠🫠. the faint hum of laughter and adoration that escapes his throat breaks you out of your state of shock. you made it safely to the ground without breaking every bone in your body, hooray! (as if there is a single reality in existence where leon would ever allow that to happen, but i digress).

you meet his gaze and there is that all-too familiar stare he gives you. leon's arms holding onto you like a lifeline uncovers a memory you have of yourself being held like this all those years ago. you can't recall exactly where in raccoon city you were, but you can remember how humiliated you were when you tripped over a crack in the pavement and ate shit. there was the fairest of scrapes against your shin, but the mortification hurt far more than any wound. while you dust yourself off and attempt to ignore the burning stares of pedestrians, a shout of your name sparks your attention.

the RPD gear and besotted eyes you're met with could be no other than that baby-faced rookie. you ponder of what he was doing on this side of town. was it a simple coincidence you had run into each other? or perhaps, had he followed you? just when you think you can't feel more embarrassed, leon gets down on one knee and dramatically inspects your wound. and my god, he acts like you were shot or something. he visibly shudders from the sight of your leg; people begin to gather around the commotion. with pure ease, he then scoops you into his arms to bring you to safety. you can feel his heart pound like a machine gun beneath the palm of your hand.

despite the humiliation deprived from this event, you fortunately are free from anything mortifying in los iluminados. however, leon doesn't seem to understand when to take a hint.

"uh... you can put me down now." you come out of your memory to thrash in his grasp and avoid his intense gaze, but your prince charming seems to still be caught in his y/n-filled daze.

after a few long seconds, your comment seems to finally reach his brain. "huh?" his response is faint and you almost don't hear it.

you repeat yourself and begrudgingly, leon then slowly puts you back onto your feet, savoring the last few seconds spent with you in his arms. exactly where you belong. you can only fear how much more suffocating affection you'll have to endure before you can finally remember what happened that night.

i think someone legit needs to slap me across the face and bring me back into reality cause holy shit...... i went WAYY too far with this. my brain is a mess thank u for reading.

i have more thoughts about this........ just incase u were curious........ ;)

[harmonized-disarray]

the things im reading here are really saddening.. this week's episode was a really good one, it finally unraveled the mystery surrounding one of the main characters, and also explained how we got to where we are now. It was fun, it was emotional and it was intense. as well as a declaration of intentions for the characters.

agatha and billy are now standing on equal ground. they're seeing each other face to face (mostly. because there's still more agatha backstory to discover) in the sense that the sigil is broken, the jig is up, and even though at this point they both have issues with each other, they know they still have to work together to get through the road. It's a mutually beneficial treuce.

This happening now is necessary to lay the groundwork for their actual development. Agatha being visibly pissed at him but still telling him he is a witch?? And a survivor?? That's such an interesting fucking moment!!! It's an interesting dynamic and it's so well done!!

It's episode 6! Which means there are still three whole episodes left. Have you people not watched the mid season trailer? (If you actually haven't I won't say anything specific but read at your own risk) the show is still about agatha. It's been about agatha (all along [i couldn't resist.]) Come on now, haven't you all watched wandavision either? It's the same people doing this show and the structure is pretty similar. Have a little faith.

I get wanting to see your favorite characters and their every interaction but that's actually not what the show is about. Is Rio a crucial character of this story and her relationship with agatha a huge deal on this show? Of course. But so is Billy. That's why we needed this episode, because he is important to the story and to agatha herself.

I don't know. To me it's just pretty obvious that the whole thing with Agatha and her past is going to be the big BIG emotional climax because it is the big BIG foundation that makes Agatha, Agatha. It's quite literally the point. To know how Agatha got here, what she wants, what she's willing to give up, to do, in order to get it. Whether she can actually be good or not. Whether this is a redemption story or not. Whether she changes, if the road changes her this time. Whether she forgives Rio or not. Hell, even if she lives or dies. This is what the show is about. Every episode has shown us a different part of Agatha up until now, even this one. And so, the remaining episodes will be the same. They'll be the answer, just like this episode was the answer to Billy's questions (who is, again, crucial to the story, Agatha as a character and a part of the coven). And I believe that will include the coven's history, rio, nicholas, and of course Agatha.

[Also, i find being upset about the heart a little silly. The note had a black heart that symbolized Billy because due to the sigil, he couldn't say his name to the others, Lilia could not write a name she couldn't know or remember. To AGATHA (and the viewers) the black heart symbolized Rio, because that's what black hearts remind her of. That's why she had such a visceral reaction to it, why she hid it from 'teen' and refused to accept it. BOTH things are true and that's fine. It's good writing because it made sense back in episode 2. It makes sense now in episode 6. And it was never an actual lie.]

[redroomreflections]

Not Easily Broken Chapter 6

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Reader go through a tragic divorce

Masterlist | General Masterlist

6/10

Note: Yes,i know the picture has a watermark. it's 2 am.

W/c: 4.2k (less painful to edit!)

Rating: M (Minors DNI; angst, fluff, smut, heartbreak, heart fix? the best ending for them coming soon)

You don’t know how long you’ve stared at the blank paper. Its thin blue lines taunted you. The questions on the tiny notebook assigned to you were intimidating. You’re sitting here, at the kitchen counter, nursing a mug of tea and looking down at the paper. This is the first part of the assignment. Once you’re going to fail. There are several steps Cheryl gave to get things going for both of you. Answer the questions. Find something both of you like to do. Discuss them together. That should be easy, right? Wrong. It’s been four days and counting and you have yet to write anything. Not that there’s nothing to write. No. You have a lot to say. It just can’t be on paper. Neither of you has been good at expressing your thoughts. You’re worse. You come from a family where conflict was solved with abandonment and passive aggressiveness. Two things you do quite well. This venture into vulnerability is foreign. You’re afraid of being the bad guy again. You don’t want to address the unknown. What if even after all of this you and Natasha don’t work out?

You’ve been doing a lot of self-reflecting the past week. There’s always something in the back of your mind that says you’re ruining her life again. You’re ruining your children’s lives. Everything you worked for you ruined. This time would be different. You’re coming into this with a clear head and a fresh perspective. You want your life back. You want your wife back. You want your family. It’s not like you cheated. You didn’t step out of your relationship. You sometimes wish it were so easy. Maybe then your actions can be excused. That’s not the correct way to say it. Cheating is never excusable. You guess it would have been another way to avoid accountability. You blame yourself every day for what happened. Even then guilt is not enough. 

You sigh. Back to the questions. You hold the pencil in your hand—first question. 

“You lead separate lives despite living in the same household.” You read aloud. Wow. Okay. That’s a tough one right off the bat. It’s relevant. It makes sense considering the context. You write yes. You move on to the second question. “You mostly speak about finances or household chores. Question three you have sex less than once weekly.” You stop your reading right there. You’re three for three. If this is how this is going you’re going to be in therapy for a while. 

Were things really that bad? You wonder if Natasha is thinking the same things. 

Across town, Natasha is indeed wondering the same things. She’s just finished up her run for the morning, having gotten the kids out of the door and off to school, and now she has the morning to herself. She’s sitting on the couch, her feet propped up on the coffee table, as the notebook rests in her lap. She pushes her glasses further up her nose. 

“Sex less than once weekly?” She reads. ‘Sex never’. She writes. It’s true. Besides the phone sex last week she doesn’t remember the last time you two were so intimate. Well, she can. Emma’s fifth birthday party. She would hardly count that as something to brag about. While you’re skilled in the bedroom, she felt dirty afterward. She felt used in a way she wasn’t all that willing to share with you. Sex with you has always meant so much more to her. She hopes it’s the same for you. She doesn’t think about it for too long. She can’t dwell on the fact that her body aches for you. Natasha Romanoff knows her worth. She is aware she could go out and find anyone to fuck. She doesn’t have to go far truthfully. She doesn’t want that. It’s kind of pathetic and she would never admit it to anyone. 

Natasha is about to answer another question for the checklist when the doorbell rings. She glances at it, hoping that whoever it is will go away when the ringing becomes more insistent. Natasha rolls her eyes, slamming the book down against the coffee table, to go and answer the door. She swings it open, ready to give whomever it is a piece of her mind when she stops. She crosses her arms and glowers at her visitor suspiciously. 

“Romanoff,” Richard grins at her. “Don’t you look swell?” He admires her messy hair, tank top, and running shorts. He waves a file in his hand. “I have work.” He offers her one of the coffees in his and she takes it. 

“I thought we were meeting at the tower,” Natasha drops her hands from the door. She walks away without offering him a second glance. He would follow. What she doesn’t see is him checking out her ass as he steps inside. He closes the door behind with and walks with her toward the living room. 

“I thought this was much better,” Richard shrugs. “I was in the neighborhood.”

“I’m sure you were,” Natasha rolls her eyes. “Okay, give me a minute to change and I’ll be right back down. I have a couple of notes over there.” She waves her hand somewhere in the room. Though Richard is an asshole she knows he won’t do anything to put her in danger. She leaves him to his own devices to change out of her workout gear. Not that her new outfit would be much better. 

Richard stands, walks over to the couch to sit, and places the file on the coffee table. He spots the notebook she’s been writing in. It’s safe to assume it’s the one she permitted him to read. It’s not. 

“Healthy relationship checklist,” He reads to himself. “No sex?” He whistles. Wow. That’s disappointing. 

“I’m going to have to ban you from my house soon,” Natasha calls down the stairs. He quickly places the notebook back where he found it. Natasha comes into the living room in a simple blue blouse and slacks. She glances at the notebook, noting that it’s moved a few inches, and tsking. “Richard, seriously, you’re my partner. One I didn’t want. At least have the decency of giving me privacy.”

“I’m sorry I was curious,” He raises his hands in surrender. “If it makes you feel any better I haven’t done it in a while either.”

“No, it doesn’t make me feel any better,” Natasha shakes her head. “And I don’t believe you. You’re looking at a sexual harassment complaint and a broken nose if we keep talking about this.”

“Fine,” He shakes his head. “I just think you deserve better.” At Natasha’s warning look he clamps his mouth shut. “I need a consult. Fury wants the entire team on this case but we need your expertise.”

“Why would you need my expertise?” Natasha sits across from him. She takes the file, flipping through the pages before she shakes her head. “What is this?” 

“A recruitment center,” Richard describes. “Someone is recruiting young girls to be assassins. Training them to go out and do their bidding. We want to know the best way to, uh, get in there and get out.” He gestures. 

Natasha frowns. They could have very well asked Melina Yelena or anyone but her. She’s not an expert on brainwashed children. She only knows so much. Even then she provides him with an answer.

“You’re going to need to get someone on the inside obviously,” She says. “Preferably someone young. Wanda Maximoff could pass. She gets in. Find out who knows what. You protect her with your life. Make sure she feels safe at all times. Know that if it’s as bad as this film reads some of them will die.”

“That’s dark,” Richard comments.

“Well, it’s not all sunshine and roses,” Natasha mumbles. She sets the file back down. “Is that all you needed from me?” 

“Well, yeah,” Richard nods. 

“Well, I’d like to be alone in my home now,” Natasha says none too politely. She passes him the large envelope. They both stand. She walks him to the door and to both their surprises you’re on the other side. You’re a bit off-put by Richard being there. 

“I’m sorry,” You shake your head. “I stopped by to..” You trail off. 

“Y/n, so good to see you,” Richard offers you a fake smile that you don’t return. 

“He’s leaving,” Natasha makes a face at him. She wasn’t really in the mood for this nonexistent love triangle thing that goes on every time you’re all in the same space. Not that it matters to her. Richard would never be someone that is on her romantic radar. Not when she only has eyes for you. 

“Right, leaving,” Richard nods. He’s about to make a joke when Natasha punches him before he can even open his mouth. He holds his sore arm, offering her an “ow!” Before he shakes his head. He walks down the stairs and to his car without another word. 

Natasha’s gaze returns to you and the brown paper bag you have in your hands. 

“Is that for me?” She asks and you nod silently. Seeing her with Richard does things to you. You follow her into the house where she closes and locks the door. She takes the bag from your hands to set it on the hallway table. You’re not sure who makes the first move but Natasha is in your arms, kissing you, feeling you, and walking backward toward the couch. Your hands are everywhere on her body. You feel the skin under her shirt, down her sides, and her hips, as you push her gently to lie down on the couch. Your kiss is hungry and rough and full of passion. She moans at the feel of your weight atop her. She kisses you back. When your hand slides up her shirt, pinching her nipple through the sports bra she’s wearing, she rips her lips from yours to moan. Her cries go straight to your core. You’re lying here between her legs, kissing her neck now, and holding her right where you want her. Natasha enjoys your touch. It excites her. It makes her feel wanted. She raises her hand to place it over yours. 

“Y/n,” Natasha begs. She doesn’t know exactly what for. She imagines it would be so easy to allow you to take her right here. Right now. The kids aren’t home. There’s no one here to stop her. Even so, she can’t help the nagging feeling at the back of her mind. “Y/n.” The tone of her voice stops you in your tracks. You lift to look into her concerned eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask. You take in her kiss-swollen lips, her mussed hair, and her flushed skin. She looks so damn sexy. 

“You did this last time,” Natasha points out. Her voice is small and barely there. You can tell she’s trying to keep the conflict at a minimum. You give her a confused look. What was she talking about? “It’s… it’s stupid.” She shakes her head. “I can't help but notice. Every time Richard comes around you feel the need to stake your claim in some way.”

“I don’t do that,” You scoff. She gestures to the spot on her neck that’s formed into a slight purple bruise. When did you do that? You deflate, sitting up, removing yourself from her embrace. You take deep breaths. Were you doing that to her? 

“I didn’t want to bring it up to upset you,” Natasha instantly misses your touch. She fixes her shirt, adjusts her bra, and moves to sit closer to you. “I don’t want you to want me because someone else does.”

“Do you seriously think that?” You question. “Nat, baby,” You breathe. “I want you because I missed you. I want you because I find you attractive. I want you because you’re everything.” You take her hand in yours. “I don’t want you to think I’m doing it to show ownership over you. That’s not something I want.”

“I want to be yours,” Natasha confesses quietly. “Just not like that.”

“I understand,” You nod. Natasha kisses your pouting lips. You smile. The notebook on the coffee table catches your eye. “So you’ve been doing the assignment.”

“I have,” Natasha glances at the paper. 

“It’s pretty eye-opening,��� You say and she nods in agreement. “I didn’t think things were that bad for us. I mean, I know, we got a divorce. I just…it puts things into perspective.” 

“It does,” Natasha runs a hand through her hair. 

“I want this to work for us,” You admit. “I’m sorry. I am. I want us to work.”

“Me too,” Natasha kisses your lips again. “Did you bring your book? We could go over some of the questions now.”

“I did,” You say as you reach over her legs to the bags you brought. You pull out the book, cracking it open to the page you’ve written on, while Natasha opens hers. “So, I’ve realized a lot of these are things we’ve done at the beginning of our relationship. We seemed to enjoy each other then. Pre-kids I guess.”

“Hmm,” Natasha hums. 

“Okay, this question,” You go to one you haven’t answered yet. “Please be truthful. Don’t hold back because you think it’s going to hurt my feelings.” Natasha nods. She could do that. “Do you feel comfortable being yourself around your partner?”

Natasha bites her lip. “I have always felt I could be myself with you. There were times I didn’t think I could. That maybe I needed to play a part to, um, make you happy.”

“I felt the same way,” You mumble. “Nat, I’m -”

“You’re sorry that’s understandable,” She shakes her head. “It’s something we have to work on. I love you for you. I’ve always loved you for you.”

“I’ve always been attracted to everything about you,” You begin. “I’ve always loved your personality. Your tenacity. Your humor. Your ability to be vulnerable.” Natasha blushes under your intense gaze. She takes her pen to write a few things before moving on to the next question. 

“You rarely hug, hold hands, or touch each other in a non-sexual way,” She reads aloud. There’s a silence that neither of you breaks. “The butt rubs stopped.” She points out. 

“What?” You look at her in surprise. “I guess they have. Was that the first indicator that something was wrong with you?”

“It was one,” Natasha shrugs. “I just thought you needed space and it’s not always a sexual thing but we stopped touching each other. It wasn’t only you. I stopped too.”

“Damn,” You curse under your breath. “We could try it now? I mean, one of our exercises was extended cuddling time. Now would be the perfect opportunity.” You offer and Natasha likes that idea. She takes both notebooks to sets them down on the table. You lie down first and she crawls on top of you. Her head rests on your chest, your arms wrap around her waist, and you simply hold each other. Your shared breathing and warmth lull you to a place of comfort. Natasha wriggles her butt, silently asking for your hands on her, and you oblige. You reach down, and your right hand travels over the slope of her soft, supple behind, before you rub. It’s tentative touches at first. Just a simple swipe of your hand before your rubs turn into kneading. You massage the covered flesh in your hands and Natasha hums. 

“I missed this,” She mutters into your chest. She peeks her head up at you. Her eyes travel from your eyes to your lips. She follows through with whatever thought she’s having and she kisses you. Her kiss is gentle and reassuring. She lingers, her lips brushing against yours before she opens her eyes again. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” You kiss her again. “So much, Natasha.” She smiles widely. She can’t describe how happy she feels right now. She’s here with you, in your arms, and there’s no other place she’d rather be. Her happiness surges to something else entirely. Suddenly all she wants is you. She kisses you again, deeper, harder, this time it’s all teeth and tongue. She sucks her bottom lips into your mouth, eliciting a moan from deep inside you and your grip on her ass loosens. 

“We shouldn’t,” She breathes between kisses. 

“You’re right,” You nod in agreement. “Though she did say we could.”

“It’s not like we need permission,” Natasha smirks. “We’ve done this before.”

You shrug. She may be right. 

“Which means I know how to get creative,” You flip the both of you over in one swift move. You adjust Natasha against the pillows, her hair fanning out under her, as you lie beside her legs. “Interesting choice of attire today.”

“It was either this or the workout gear,” She laughs. 

“It’s okay, makes it more fun,” You take nimble fingers to the buttons of her blouse. Natasha watches as you unbutton to reveal her smooth skin. “Tell me to stop.” You say but she doesn’t say a word. 

“What if I don’t want you to stop?” She challenges. You slide your fingers under her bra cap, feeling her nipple harden under your palm, and she shivers. 

“I’ve always liked you,” You joke and she nips at your chin. “I love you.” You correct and she hums. Much better. You twist her nipple, bordering on harsh, and Natasha practically jumps out of her skin. God, she’s missed this. You lean your head down, pushing the cup to the side, to suck her rosy nipple into your mouth. You swirl your tongue, alternating between licking and sucking and Natasha drops her head against the pillows again. You make sloppy sucking noises, only proving to turn her on further, as she rests a hand over your head to keep you there. “I want to make you cum.” You release her nipple with a pop. 

Natasha is a grown woman. She likes sex. She enjoys sex. She’s about to throw away all of her reservations and tell you to do whatever. You offer an alternative. You button her slacks, zipping them down far enough for your hands to reach inside and you slide in. Your fingers ghost over the lips of her panties, pushing to feel the wetness seeping through, and Natasha preens. 

“Like this then?” You say and she nods. That makes it more fun. You rake your nails over Natasha's pussy, finding the small nub peeking through the fabric, and you pay the most attention to that. Natasha arches her back and forces you to press against her deeper. “You like that baby?” You ask. “Is this what you wanted?” You ask as you work your magic through the cotton of her panties. Natasha nods her head, mouth open, eyes closed in complete pleasure. 

“Ngh,” She moans her words caught in her throat, as she rocks her hips into your fingers. It feels so damn good. This entire act may seem a bit immature but she doesn’t care. Your fingers are on her, practically inside of her, and even with the thin barrier of her underwear she feels everything. You are firm in your movements. You’re purposeful with every circling of your fingers. Your movements go from small tight circles to wide and rough as Natasha moans louder. “Yes,” She hisses between her teeth. “Yes.”She whines and you know she’s close. 

“Chase it, baby,” You encourage. “You’re so pretty like this. At my mercy.” You continue. “The perfect doll. So open and wet for me.” You kiss her bare shoulder, her neck, her chest. Anywhere you can reach. It feels so dirty here. The smell of her sex reaching your nose. The sound of shuffling and moving against the cushions is the only thing heard in the entire house. You want to give Natasha this. You need to give it to her. “My pretty girl. I want to make you my pretty wife again.” You find yourself saying and it’s the right thing. Natasha stiffens, and her left hand comes to grip your right arm as her hips thrust against your fingers. Even through her panties, you can feel the sudden gush of wetness from her. Natasha whimpers pitifully as you talk her through it. “That’s it, baby. I know. Your pussy feels so good.” You whisper closer to her ear. When she finally comes down, Natasha falls limp against the cushions and you catch her. You remove your fingers from her pants, resting them by her side, as you watch the rise and fall of her chest. Natasha opens her eyes a moment later, a bit startled by the fact that you’re watching her, and she shakes her head. You kiss her swollen lips. 

“You did so well for me,” You praise and delight in her skin turning into an even redder shade. “I liked seeing you cum.”

“Stop,” Natasha groans. You chuckle. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me for your orgasm,” You deny her. “I had fun doing it. I’d like to do it again soon. Maybe with that strap, you’ve been asking for.”

“I’d like that.” Natasha nods. 

“This didn’t change things for you right?” You question and she tilts her head. “I mean to say that I meant what I said about making you my wife. It wasn’t just something I was saying to get you off.”

“It worked either way,” She quips. “I want that too. With you. Someday.”

“Good,” You smile. You trade kisses with Natasha, noting her sudden fatigue until you fall asleep in each other’s arms. You weren’t exactly intending to but you know you both need it. 

************

A few hours later you’re awakened by the sound of the front door unlocking. The kids are home. You awaken first, tapping Natasha awake, and she only nuzzles into your body further. She’s not ready to move away. 

“Unbelievable,” Yelena Belova’s voice interrupts your bliss. You both pop up to see the blonde standing over the two of you with a look of disgust on her face. “I can’t believe it.” Yelena shakes her head. 

“Mommy!” Emma and Ryan chorus. Natasha makes quick work of buttoning up her shirt and pants without them seeing. It’s Yelena who notices and shakes her head. 

“Is this why you wanted me to pick them up?” Yelena asks but then she drops Emma’s backpack onto the ground. “You know what, I’m leaving, I don’t even care.” She heads for the front door. You watch in trepidation as Natasha races after her. 

“Yelena,” Natasha calls after her younger sister. “Yelena, you’re acting like a child.”

“And you’re being stupid,” The woman insults. She turns back to Natasha with a disappointed look on her face. “You can’t think one quick fuck is going to make her stay. She left you. She left your kids. I can’t fucking believe this.”

“Yelena, that’s enough,” Natasha speaks firmly. “You don’t know what’s going on.”

“Well I have eyes,” Yelena argues back. “ I think I can see.”

“She’s my wife,” Natasha pleads with her sister to understand. 

“No,” Yelena rants. “She’s your ex-wife that broke your heart.”

“And she’s trying to make things better,”

“And just like that, you believe her? You’re smarter than that, Natasha.” Yelena scolds her sister. Natasha doesn’t speak. “Don’t call me when she decides she doesn’t want to play house anymore.” Yelena walks away after that. 

Natasha watches as her sister gets into her car and drives down the street. How was she supposed to respond to that? She turns back toward the house to see you standing on the steps waiting for her. 

“That was intense,” You comment. Natasha nods. You hold out your arms for her to step into them. She hides her face in your neck. 

“Am I being stupid?” She mumbles into your neck and you almost miss it. 

“No, Natasha,” You assure her. 

“Don’t make me look stupid,” She pleads. “I won’t survive it this time.” 

“Me either,” You hold her. 

You wouldn’t give this up again. You understand that Natasha’s family has a right to be cautious. They have a right to hate you. You could only hope that they see that you’re trying.

---> next part

[fatherdearest-kink]

Since I'm currently jerking my burly dad cock off, I find myself reminiscing about a particularly exciting BDSM experience I had a while back.

So today I find myself gracing you, dirty slut, with this tale of my past. You better be grateful and get off to it imagining this was you, understood?

Now, where was I? Ah, yes. I've had the pleasure of training and using multiple cocksleeves over the years, and a grand majority of them are begginer sluts that crave to serve a man with all their heart.

However, very few times, I've been fortunate enough to find a woman who doesn't yet know her place. This is one such occasion.

I met a cute, young girl on Discord who didn't know much about kinks or sexual acts. So much younger than me, so pretty and innocent.

At first, it started innocently. We chatted, hung out in voice chat, shared our favorite music, shows, and so on. There was the occasional flirting from my part, very friendly and subtle. I kept giving her attention, giving her advice and being there for her, treating her with dignity and respect.

Of course, it didn't take too long for her to start flirting back, and thus, my flirting escalated. Sooner than later, I was describing exactly how I would ruin her with my big cock, how I'd breed her like the dirty little whore she was.

Now, as I mentioned before, this girl didn't know much about sex, hell, she barely even masturbated. It didn't take too long for me to change that. She began trusting me, and even though unsure, she still decided to go along with the sexual activity. Slowly escalating from simple descriptions of how I'd kiss her neck and rub her thighs, yo me asking to see photos of her in her underwear.

Poor girl, so young and pure, slowly getting corrupted. I treated her so perfectly, how no man had treated her before. Of course she'd fall for me.

As we got closer, we began calling more often, and those calls turned into masturbation sessions. Every time, I'd assert my dominance and tell her when to touch, when to stop, to go faster or to slow down. Naturally, she loved being guided. A girl who, a few weeks back, didn't even feel horny enough to masturbate constantly, slowly becoming addicted to touching herself every day. Such a good little girl, always obediently asking for permission to touch.

After making her start fucking herself with a hairbrush, I made a habit of counting from one to ten at different speeds, every number a push of the brush.

Then came the day I broke her.

She was fucking herself in call as I told her how much of an useless, pathetic horny mess of a whore she was. Unsurprisingly aroused by being degraded while she listened to the sound of my heavy breathing and wet cock, I kept counting up.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.

By now, she had sent a few undewear pics and came on her own through my guidance, but nothing much really.

And then, it happened.

I could hear she was getting close to climax.

I simply told that cunt "Listen to me, whore. Now, I'll count down in reverse. When I say cum, you will cum. Not a second earlier or later, understood?"

She moaned a frantic "Yes!" as she continued. And I counted down.

"10

9

8

7

6

5

4

3

2

1"

"Cum, you stupid slut. Cum for Daddy's cock like I taught you~"

And she did. Her moans were incredible, new pleasure she had never experienced. She was so horny that she immediately turned her camera on. She didn't care anymore. She wanted to keep feeling good. She spread open her pretty little legs and and I got to see her tight, pink pussy as she tried pathetically to imagine my huge cock breeding her using a brush that was a lot smaller and thinner than it.

She finally reached subspace and fully submitted to me. She came two more times and then performed a dogeza to apologize for becoming such a pathetic, horny mess.

She wasn't done, she needed to please my cock and she needed it now.

So of course, I kept using her for a while longer.

Needless to say, she changed from that day forward. Showing me her pretty naked body whenever I asked, masturbating for me, recording dirty audios.

She turned into such a good girl for me, so obedient and horny, always knowing her place as an inferior toy from then on, dedicating her life to serving me dutifully. A perfect role model for other young girls like you to follow~

So what are you waiting for?

You want to show me your lewd body too, don't you?

Yeah, just like that.

Open for the camera app and show me how you masturbate.

You look so pretty when you get off to my blog.

Good girl. 🖤

[selkiesongss]

has some of this been said before? i don't know, probably. do i give a fuck? nah

i want to talk about sam butler and nobody can stop me

(lengthy rambling below the cut)

looking back on misfits and magic, it genuinely astounds me the leaps and bounds that sam has experienced as a character. i can't speak for anyone else, but for me, i had the least connection to sam in mismag 1 and the special– i think it was a combination of it being danielle's first appearance on d20 and my unfamiliarity with her, the narrative spending a relatively large amount of time on evan and his demons compared to everyone else, and the fact that sam started as a trope-y character who didn't have the chance to grow beyond that in the limited amount of time they had to begin with– like i definitely enjoyed her but i didn't really love her, yknow?

(sidenote: after episode 6 or 7 i went back and rewatched mismag 1 and the special and i adored sam the entire time, so i think it was mostly just a "right place wrong time" thing.. or "right character wrong time" i suppose? i'm just pissed i didn't give her the adoration she deserved then tbh)

which is why i was BEYOND surprised that as episodes of mismag 2 dropped, i found myself being increasingly pulled into sam's orbit. episode 1 and episode 2 were so refreshing, seeing how these characters had changed over time and watching them interact with each other again, and it really felt like sam had grown into herself; at this point i was confident that i was going to enjoy her more, i just didn't know how much lmao

and then. episode 3 dropped.

danielle's performance in that episode fucking destroyed me. lou and erika were acting their asses off and i STILL found myself wishing there would be more cutaways to sam so i could see danielle living her character. now that i mention it, i think that was what i was missing from season 1 and the special, a moment where things went from bad to worse and sam truly struggled. that's not to say she didn't struggle before, just that there was a depth to her grief in episode three that hadn't been present in past seasons and it really took me aback (in a positive way). not to mention sam's interactions with the qohlye, which set up the final act of the season!

EVERY episode after episode 3 was another heavy hitter. episode 4 and learning about sam's childhood (buttery smooth tights dni), not to mention the comedic juggernaut that was coked-out sam butler !! episode 5 and her infamous sofa conversation with evan, which i took the time to transcribe because thinking about it made me insane (just as a personal note, i think episode 3 was when the possibility of evsam struck me, and episode 5 was what really cemented how much i wanted it to happen). episode 6 and her interactions with jammer and k, the endive salad with way too much parmesan (which is incredibly funny given that she's lactose intolerant) and her realization about sweeps week and celebrity cameos, code pink ??? oh my god it makes me nauseous i love the pink pals so much..

obviously episode 7 was HUGE for sam; charming weugan was an incredible moment for her as a wizard, but it also teed up her breakdown in the finale. her charm spell also gave us the absolute masterpiece that was the jammer+evan puppy playtime hour, which i personally haven't stopped thinking about since it happened! did that awaken something in me? who can say.

episode 8 had her interactions with tadershacourt which i found hilarious, and her sleeping on the air mattress with evan was HUGE for me, but really the moment that got me was when she chose to snap her wand to see the connections between the pilot program and the new magic infusing k and evan. this moment solidified my adoration for sam butler, because who else would destroy a prized magical artifact from their past just to know a little bit more about their friends? not to mention this scene really laid the groundwork for her magical connection to the qohlye in my eyes

and of course, episode 9 was where we actually got that connection! it strikes me looking back that i never doubted that sam would turn down the qohlye's boon. so much of her narrative and so many of her choices up until this point had been her choosing to sacrifice power to support her community– using her question to the qohlye to save evan, her distaste for the magic of seegenpelater, the straight up disgust she felt at weugan's suggestion to purposefully charm jammer and evan, snapping her wand on tadershacourt.. oh god the storytelling.... it's killing me.......... there's a lot more to say about this episode but this is getting long even for me

episode 10... episode 10 how i love you.... this episode is admittedly pretty sparse when it comes to big moments for sam, but i just adore it and danielle looked beautiful here (as she did every episode but it's still worth saying) so i'm bringing it up. OH and obviously jammer, k, and sam's conversation with tabby was devastating but that goes without saying

which brings me to the finale.

i truly will never be able to thank aabria enough for giving sam the spotlight here. not only do i think that it was incredibly meaningful to begin with sam coming face to face with her deepest fears in order to save the world, i think that it was deeply narratively satisfying to have sam, the person who has spent her entire time on screen reaching out and showing people kindness, be the one to hold the reins on a ritual to change magic forever. it's worth mentioning that jammer has done the same, but he didn't need to take charge like sam did, and i think it makes the most sense that he and the rest of the pilot program would be there to support her as the ritual went on.

sam's breakdowns in the beginning and then again during the scuppers match were truly, genuinely some of the most emotionally resonant scenes i've ever seen in D20 history, which is saying a lot. the joy i felt as the ritual "ended" and the pilot program had changed magic was insane. and i honestly believe that i wouldn't feel that way if sam hadn't been there.

this has been an extremely long-winded way to say: sam butler is my favorite dimension 20 PC to date. i was completely blindsided by how drastically my opinion of her would change between seasons, and i couldn't be happier about that. it has been so rewarding to watch sam evolve from her first iterations to who she is now, and i cannot overstate just how impressive and inspiring danielle radford's performances were to watch. her ability to match the emotional tone of every scene she's in is beyond amazing, and the love she has for sam shines through her performance like light through a lantern.

tl;dr: sam butler's arc in misfits and magic has me on my fucking knees it's so good. danielle radford you will always be famous

[nighttimeebony]

Unanswered questions about Dazai's backstory that are driving me fucking insane

(Yeah, so, completely against my will, Bungou Stray Dogs has been consuming every last neuron in my brain for the past several weeks, so I thought I'd share my unraveling)

(mentions of eye injuries and self-harm/attempted suicide below the cut, if you're sensitive to those kinds of things).

(1) In season 2, episode 3, when Ango turns out to be a spy in the Port Mafia, Dazai says, "Everything I never want to lose is always lost. Everything worth wanting is lost the moment I obtain it. And nothing I pursue is worth the cost of prolonging this life, this suffering." Like! What the fuck does this mean?!?!! What happened in Dazai's life that made him think this? The way he says it indicates that him "losing things he wants to keep" has happened often enough for it to become a pattern for him, so what was Dazai talking about when he said this?

(2) In season 3, episode 3, why did Dazai say "thank you" to the old Port Mafia boss when he killed Rimbaud's double of him?

In the sub, he says "let me thank you for once," and in the dub, he says "I'll never get another chance to say this, so thank you". Why did he say that?

(3) Why did Dazai keep his eye covered as a teenager? At first, I assumed it was because Dazai had some kind of injury that he was covering, considering how easily it bled every time Dazai sustained some kind of damage to his head or face, but never to the eye directly. In episode 1 of season 2, when a bullet grazes the side of his face, his eye starts to bleed

and the same thing happens again in episode 1 of season 3 when Chuuya kicks him into a wall.

BUT! When Oda's dying and he pulls Dazai's bandages off, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with his eye. And it can't be that Dazai was just wearing them as some kind of intimidation tactic; there had to have been something wrong with it, because we see it bleed twice (even though the eye itself never sustained any direct injury), but there is no visual indication that anything is wrong with his eye, either in the flashbacks or in the present (no scars, seemingly no vision issues, and no discoloration in the eye like you might expect to see as a result of permanent damage). So I am asking WHAT THE FUCK WERE THE BANDAGES FOR

(4) Where did Dazai come from before he was in the Port Mafia? We know that he was a witness to the old boss's murder when he was 14, but Dazai wasn't an official Mafia member until he was 15 when Mori tasked him to work the Arahabaki case. Was Dazai always connected to the Mafia in some way, or did he come from a normal family before Mori inducted him?

(5) FOLLOWING THAT: where are Dazai's parents? In the "Fifteen" novel, it's stated that Dazai wasn't a mere orphan that Mori just picked up, but we don't know if Dazai's parents are dead or alive or where they would be if they were alive.

(6) What are Dazai's bandages actually for? Given Dazai's track record of suicide attempts, it's a common theory that the bandages are to hide self harm scars (I subscribe to this theory myself, as it's the most plausible), but we don't actually know because we've never seen Dazai without his bandages before.

EDIT: (7) Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. In season 3, episode 2-

What is the motivation behind this scene? Why does Dazai keep shooting? Why does he think that the soldier deserved to suffer more? Dazai offers the guy a more merciful death, but Dazai also thinks that a merciful death is "more than he deserves". Why does Dazai think this? This can't just be about this one soldier, because Dazai hasn't had any kind of encounter with him before this. Dazai is clearly having some kind of small breakdown, but what triggered it and why?

[whump-tr0pes]

Honor Bound 6 - 32

This is a series. Start here, continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, Honor Bound 4, Honor Bound 5, and the prequel Vera.

AO3

Masterlist

Contents: past hallucinations, PTSD, past abuse of a minor, attempted confrontation with abuser, abuser co-opting language of activism, gendered slurs, fucky headspace about abuse, thoughts about self harm, flashbacks, harm reduction

~

Isaac only realized he had been tensing every muscle in his body when Gavin started to fall asleep. It happened slowly at first, Gavin’s head relaxing into the pillow, then the pained lines in his forehead disappearing bit by bit. Gavin’s breath slowed, and his hand released its death grip on Isaac’s shirt. Gavin’s leg twitched, as it sometimes did as he was drifting off, but Gavin didn’t wake. Then, and only then, did Isaac take a full breath and release the tension that had been surging through him since Gavin had looked at him with suspicious, terrified eyes and refused to take the medication that would bring him relief.

It was only through sheer will that Isaac had not collapsed to his knees right then. Isaac had withstood so much within these past weeks, and could have withstood more; the ever-present fear of Gavin’s death had hung over him like a sword both waking and asleep. Isaac had nearly watched Gavin die. He had thought he had watched that very thing.

And yet, nothing could have prepared him for the moment Gavin looked at him in distrust, in fear, and thought Schiester was the man standing before him.

Isaac crushed the thought before it could fully bloom. I have him back, he thought fiercely. It’s enough. It’s more than enough. It’s more than I thought I would ever have again. If this is… If this is the price…

He shuddered and wiped his eyes. Even having Gavin look at him with that much distrust, it was worth it. Of course it was. He leaned forward, brushing his lips to Gavin’s forehead as gently as he could manage. Gavin drew in a shuddering breath, but stayed asleep. Isaac’s chest ached as he gazed at him, his eyes lingering on the darkened, puckered scars that stretched over Gavin’s nose, cheek, and eye. If Gavin was awake, Isaac would kiss them. For now, Isaac just wanted Gavin to sleep.

An icy finger of dread brushed down Isaac’s back. He turned his head towards the front door, listening for a sound his body had known to listen for before his mind even registered there had been a noise. Even through the closed bedroom door, he could hear the front door open. He was up and out of the bed before he had time to draw breath.

“Don’t fucking shoot, Isaac, it’s me,” came Vera’s voice.

Isaac’s fingers ached. His hand was already in a fist at his waistband, closed over a gun that wasn’t there. He panted heavily and rushed out of the bedroom, terror and rage ebbing away, replaced with sharp annoyance.

“Shh.” He closed the bedroom door behind him and glanced at Vera – and Gray, who stood behind her, face like a stormcloud. “Gavin’s sleeping. He has a bad—” The rest of his thought evaporated when his eyes returned to Vera – her eyes were wild, a muscle standing out in her jaw like she was trying to crack a molar. “Wh-what?” he breathed.

Vera snorted. “We should probably talk,” she bit out, voice thin with sarcasm.

Isaac’s stomach dropped. “Oh… fuck, what—”

“Vera met Rosa,” Gray said darkly.

Fear punched through Isaac’s chest. In the same breath, hope threatened. “Is… Oh. Is she… alive?”

Vera barked out a mirthless laugh, then covered her mouth with a hand and threw an apologetic look at the closed bedroom door. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “Ah… yeah. She’s… she’s alive. Because someone—” She roughly elbowed Gray in the ribs. “—wouldn’t let me murder her in front of this town’s mayor.”

“Kali isn’t the mayor,” Gray said, their tone only a little imperious. “But forgive me for not allowing you to burn one of the few bridges we have up here.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Vera said. A slight smile undercut the harsh words. “But yeah, uh… we should probably… talk about that.”

“Talk about what?” Isaac said. His hands were starting to shake. “What is there to talk about? She did what she did, and I… did what I did, and—”

Gray stepped forward. “Isaac, that’s not—”

“—now we just have to… deal with her. That’s just how it is.” He pulled a shaking hand through his hair, forced himself to breathe – then breathe again, and slower. “If we’re going to… coexist—”

“They’re dead because of you. You know that? We went out to fight and you were supposed to be there, to protect us, and you weren’t. You preferred to not take the shot. You preferred to run like the useless piece of shit you are.”

He shuddered. “We h-have to—”

“But we don’t, Isaac,” Gray said carefully.

“Vera said we’re not allowed to kill her,” Isaac said, doing his best to loosen his hands from the fists they were in.

Vera rolled her eyes. “You know where I stand on this issue,” she sighed. “But yeah, like Gray said, we don’t actually have to deal with her. At least not all that much. Because she doesn’t actually live here.”

Isaac stared at her for a long moment. Then, slowly, he said, “What do you mean, she doesn’t actually live here?”

Vera massaged her temple and gestured for Gray to speak. Gray wet their lips and said, “We just finished speaking to Kali. And… meeting Rosa, unfortunately. Kali said she doesn’t live here, she just gets mail here and passes through every now and then. And that… well, Kali said she would like to mediate a conversation between you and Rosa.”

“When?” Isaac choked out.

Gray spread their hands. “I… don’t know. She didn’t say. Rosa left in a huff before we could work anything out.” They gave a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t think it’s a bad idea, Isaac. At least you would have a chance to air your grievances. But either way, Kali wanted to do it because she thinks it would help. And because… well, because essentially we aren’t allowed to keep trying to kill her every time we see her.”

Isaac surged forward and staggered out the front door. Vera and Gray stumbled to follow.

“Wait… where are you going?” Vera said.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Isaac whimpered. “I can’t… keep wondering when she’s going to turn up again, expecting her around every corner. If Kali wants to do this fucking talk, and this is what it’ll take in order for us to live here, then fine, but…” He muffled a sob into his hand and dashed tears from his eyes. “I’m not fucking waiting. I’m doing this now. I…” He stumbled, then stopped. His heart pounded against his lungs as he sucked in breath after too-small breath. “Wh-where is she?” he rasped.

“Rosa?” Gray said cautiously. “I don’t—”

“No, Kali,” Isaac said. “If she wants to have a talk, I’m going to talk to her now.”

“I don’t know, Isaac,” Gray said. “When we saw her she was in the post office, but—”

Isaac whirled and began to jog down the lane into town.

Gray and Vera hurried to follow. “She might not still be there, Isaac!” Gray said, already breathing hard. “She, I told you she was there, I have no idea if she—”

“Call her,” Isaac said over his shoulder. “Call her and tell her to meet me.”

“Isaac, stop,” Gray said. They skidded to a halt and braced their hands on their knees to catch their breath. “Let’s talk about this.”

“No,” Isaac begged. Gray raised their gaze to his. “Don’t make me fucking wait, Gray,” he croaked. “Don’t make me keep going through this. Please.”

Gray straightened and took a deep, wheezing breath. “Fine,” they said roughly. “But I’ll go with you.”

Isaac turned on his heel and kept walking in the direction of the post office. His heart felt bruised; every beat felt like a blow to the inside of his ribs. Vera fell in beside him. Gray lagged behind, tapping away on their cell phone. After they sent off a text, they jogged to catch up.

Goosebumps rippled across Isaac’s arms and back. He didn’t speak as they walked into town, didn’t glance at Vera as they all passed by the shops on either side of the street. When he finally laid his eyes on the post office, his stomach twisted like he might be sick.

“Is she there?” he said thickly.

Gray checked their phone. “She responded,” they murmured. Then, “Yes. She’s there.”

Fear and revulsion thundered through Isaac’s veins as his feet carried him closer. He couldn’t feel the tips of his fingers when he reached out to grasp the worn wooden handle on the door. He didn’t wait to take a breath before he yanked the door open and walked in.

Only Kali stood inside. Isaac’s throat tightened and he turned to look at Gray, eyes wide with terror and confusion.

“I… meant Kali was here, not Rosa,” Gray said, shaking their head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

“Where is she?” Isaac rasped. He looked helplessly at Kali. “You said you wanted to talk, so…” He held his arms out wide. He hated himself for how hard he was shaking. He blinked back the tears that threatened in his eyes. “I’m here to talk. I’m not… not armed, so…” His hands fell to his sides again. “Let’s just get this done, if this is how you think we should handle this.”

Kali’s brow was deeply creased as she looked at Isaac. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Alright,” she said carefully. “I see you want to… make things better.”

“No, I just want this to be fucking over,” Isaac whispered, so he wouldn’t choke. The tears in his eyes spilled down his cheeks. “If you want me to talk to her, I’ll talk to her. If that’s what I have to do, then…” He shrugged and held his arms down at his sides, hands balled into fists. “Let’s just get this done.”

Kali held Isaac’s eyes with a steady gaze. “Isaac…”

“Now!” he cried. Kali flinched back minutely from the booming command. Isaac buried his face in his hands and muffled a sob. “What the fuck?” he breathed. “You wanted to talk, can I please just—”

“I’m sorry,” Kali said in a rush. “Isaac, I’m sorry for causing you grief. I didn’t mean to, please believe that. But I… well, maybe you should just read it.” She pulled a phone from her pocket, tapped the screen a few times, and handed it to Isaac.

On the screen was the end of a text conversation between Kali and Rosa.

September 22, 2030 2:45pm

Kali: we got mail for you today

September 22, 2030 9:50pm

Rosa: thnk u

September 28, 2030 10:22am

Kali: I’d like to resolve this between you and Isaac Moore’s family. What do you say to having a conversation with him that I mediate? This would be planned and in a neutral location, with no threats allowed on either side, with safety and repair being the goal.

September 28, 2030 10:24am

Rosa: r u serious? fuck that actually

September 28, 2030 10:24am

Rosa: I can’t believe ur taking his side

September 28, 2030 10:25am

Rosa: after everythng I’ve gone fr the resistance I can’t believe this

September 28, 2030 10:26am

Rosa: if ur willing to allow those people to stay nd continue to spread their lies about wht happened to Jordan, fine. ur in charge here. but I will no longer affiliate w Laporte. this isn’t just smthng u can just ‘mediate’. consider me gone.

September 28, 2030 10:30am

Kali: I understand you being upset. I’ll give you some time to yourself and reach out again in a few days.

September 28, 2030, 10:30am

Your message cannot be delivered.

Isaac realized he was breathing hard when the words on the screen began to blur. He held the phone out with a shaking hand and looked up at Kali.

“What…” His mouth was dry. He swallowed hard. “What does that mean? What…”

Kali threw a glance at Gray, who was looking at her inquisitively. “It looks to me,” she said with that same sense of unending patience, “That she isn’t interested in having this conversation or… being in Laporte anymore.”

“Give me that,” Vera snapped, and grabbed the phone from Isaac’s hand to read the last exchange. She snorted and looked up at Gray. “‘I will no longer affiliate with Laporte’? Is she serious? Was she somehow contributing in a huge way to the resistance that we just… haven’t heard of over the past several years?”

Kali opened her mouth to speak. “I—”

“What, is her presence here so fucking special that her refusing to come here anymore is some sort of punishment?” This time, Vera fixed her eyes on Kali. “Well? Have we just misread this?” her lip pulled back in a snarl.

Kali met Vera’s vicious gaze with her own steady one. Finally, she said, “Sometimes people lash out when they feel hurt. Her identity as a resistance fighter is clearly very important to her.”

“Perhaps, then, she should work on being an effective one,” Gray hissed from the corner.

Isaac still stood in the center of the room, shaking like a leaf. He kept waiting for fear to hit, or rage, or relief. Nothing rose up to fill the emptiness that had opened up inside him. He felt like he might buckle under his own weight.

“Wh-what does this mean?” he repeated.

“It means the trash just took itself out,” Vera spat. “I wouldn’t spend any more time worrying about her, Isaac. Apparently being confronted with the truth is enough to send that bitch packing.”

Isaac’s eyes and mouth were dry. He swallowed hard, swallowed again. “She’s… just gone?” he said softly into the room. The words seemed to fade into the buzz of Vera’s rage and the pounding of blood in his ears. “She just… left?”

His eyes snapped to Kali’s when she took a step closer to him. She had to crane her head back a bit to look up at him, but she met his eyes without blinking. She reached out and took both his hands in hers. They were rough, calloused, but warm and dry. She squeezed his hands in hers, and he found himself squeezing back.

“I am so, so sorry,” she said, her voice so kind that it brought more tears to Isaac’s eyes. “She clearly hurt you so much, and I’m sorry. I was hoping for some kind of healing. But… I hope this is a solution that works almost as well.”

Vera snorted. Isaac couldn’t see her where she stood behind him, but he could see Kali’s mouth tighten in response. “I understand if you see this as better,” Kali said.

“The woman was okay with using a child soldier as her own personalized bodyguard and hitman,” Vera sneered.

“I wasn’t a child when she first brought me into the field,” Isaac said, releasing Kali’s hands and turning to face Vera. “I was… t-twenty-one when she—”

Vera held up a hand, silencing Isaac. “I don’t want to hear it,” she snapped. Isaac’s mouth fell shut.

Kali cleared her throat softly. “If I might suggest something, Isaac,” she said. He looked down at her and waited for her to speak. He was tired in his bones, tired in his soul. He was tired of fighting, tired of being afraid. He was tired of being tired. She wet her lips and said, “It seems like the people who hurt you… well, it seems like they’ve all decided to stay in your past. So maybe something that would be helpful for you… would be to start by learning that the things that were done to you… were indeed mistreatment? Were indeed unjust?”

This time, it was Gray who snorted. “I’ve been trying to tell him that for… oh, over a year at this point,” they said with a gentle, good-natured laugh.

Isaac couldn’t find it in him to laugh, or cry, or even reach for the flame of anger that always burned inside him. He shrugged, a hollow, jerky movement. “Probably, yeah,” he said flatly.

Kali’s mouth pursed, and she gently patted Isaac’s shoulder. “Alright,” she said. She glanced at Vera and held out a hand for her phone. “If I could have that back…?” Vera placed the phone in Kali’s hand, and at least had the dignity of looking a little embarrassed for having snatched it away in the first place. Kali tucked the phone in her pocket and rubbed her hands on her worn jeans. “Well,” she said. “I’ll… I’ll keep y’all posted on the goings-on of the town. And I’ll make sure you get notified next time mail gets dropped off. I know that… once you’ve settled in, it’ll feel like home. I’m… sorry things have started so rough.”

For a long time, no one said anything. Isaac’s jaw ached as he clenched his teeth, swallowing over and over against the lump in his throat. It was the only sensation in his body, and he clung to it, all too familiar with the numbness that was creeping through his veins.

His knife could chase the numbness away, he knew that. It had done it so many times already. If he just took his knife, and—

“Who gave you this, huh?”

“M-my—”

A blow lashes across his face, spilling the tears that had been brimming in his eyes. He presses a hand to his stinging cheek and returns his frightened gaze to the woman kneeling in front of him. He didn’t mean to fall asleep, he didn’t, but he’s been awake for two days already, maybe three, he lost count, and he’s so tired…

Rosa is fiddling with his pocket knife, the one with the sharp steel blade and the red plastic handle, the one he has using to try and keep himself awake, the one given to him by his—

“My… dad gave it to me,” he hiccoughs, fighting back a sob.

Rosa chuckles, folding and unfolding the blade from the pocketknife. “Your dad, huh?” she says, her voice cold and sarcastic.

“Yes, please give it back…” He reaches for it.

She snatches it back, out of his reach. “No,” she says with a vicious grin. “You fell asleep on watch. Second time this month. Clearly giving you triple duty didn’t teach you better. Maybe this will.” Isaac’s stomach drops as she folds the knife a final time and tucks it into her pocket.

“No!” Isaac sobs, and lunges for it. He’s so tired, he’s so tired, and Rosa easily trips him. He goes sprawling into the dirt.

Rosa snickers and walks away. “Don’t fall asleep on watch again, Isaac,” she says, not bothering to look back. “You won’t like what happens if I catch you doing it again.”

Isaac blinked and shook his head against the sudden memory. His right hand was curled into a fist – no, curled around his father’s pocketknife, lost forever because of the mistakes he had made.

Enough sensation returned for him to register a weight in his stomach as he released his fingers, one by one. He felt the loss of his father’s knife as if it had just happened – as if Rosa had just walked out the door with it a few minutes ago. He swallowed against more tears and pressed against the unhealed cuts at his wrist.

“Gray,” he said weakly, unable to feel embarrassed when his voice cracked as if he was sixteen years old. “Can we head home? I… I’d like to… I need some ice.”

He felt Vera’s confused gaze, but didn’t look at her. He turned and looked only at Gray.

They took a deep breath, let it out. “Of course,” they said gently. They stepped forward and tucked him under their arm. “Thank you, Kali, for meeting us again so soon.”

“Anything y’all need,” she said with a shrug. She gave them a kind smile as Isaac let Gray lead him out of the post office and back out into the morning sunlight. Isaac wound his arm around Gray’s waist as they walked. Vera followed silently behind. Isaac could feel her confusion and curiosity, but couldn’t bring himself to explain the ice right now. She would find out when they got home anyway. For now, Isaac let the tears fall freely as he walked down the main street of Laporte, not caring if anyone else noticed.

Continued here

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[tgammsideblog]

Alright, let's clarify some things regarding Tgamm shipping and behind the scenes stuff when it comes to Ollie and Mollie ship because i'm tired of misinformation being spread around. 1) Season 2 was being written around when the first episodes from Season 1 starting airing back on October 2021. That means that the creators didn't expect what things people were going to start to ship like Molibby and Molldrea (Molly x Libby) and (Molly x Andrea). The creators have zero control over the way the fandom online consumes media and they have already written most of Season 2 when people came up with those ships

2)Back when the show aired, around two days after the series premiere, one of the creators, Bob Roth, clarified on his twitter that the LGBT+ represenation wasn't what ¨people were expecting¨ and people were looking too much into Molly and Libby interactions, the creators explained multiple times that they only saw Molly and Libby as friends and that was their relationship in the series.

3)The creators in general don't have any problems with people having their own headcanons. They have stated this in podcats and AMAs that they are fine with people shipping things that aren't as long as the fans don't demand their ships or headcanons to be canon.

4) No, Ollie wasn't something that was demanded by the network. In fact Bill Motz was against the idea originally until the writers in crew convince him that they could do something interesting with it (That is the whole ghosthunter plot)

5) The fandom has been going just fine these last weeks. The show has been trending on twitter these last episodes. The regulars i know of from twitter, discord and tumblr continued posting as always. I know of someone who is a huge fan of the show who doesn't like Ollie much but she still appreciates others things that have been happening in Season 2 like Chairman Scratch, Jinx, Scratch's past among episodes that explore the Mcgee family.

6) There are people who are being way too dramatic about Ollie's character. Sure, he is part of one of the main plotlines in the first third of the season but he is a character that only appears in like 9 episodes from this season. Two being one half hour episodes (The New Paranormal and Frightmares on Main Street), the rest are the regular 11 minutes segments. So that's like 9 out of 28 episodes?. It isn't that much as people make out to be. He barely appears between episodes 8 to 13. For a while we didn't have much about his arc until recently. So, yeah, he isn't a character that appears in every episode from this season, just some episodes. You can still enjoy watching the show without having to like his character or be fan of the ship.In fact, there are plenty of people who don't care about Ollie but still really like the show. This is because they care about stuff beyond shipping or just don't care about shipping at all.

TLDR: It's fine to dislike Ollie or Mollie ship but, for fuck's sake, try to be normal about it.

[mixupmycota]

right so now im home and rested

attempting to seek care for dehydration was a clusterfuck of immense proportions

urgent care went fine! it was recognized that i was severely dehydrated based on my symptoms and the timeline! a bag of fluids was applied!

but based on the fact the single bag of fluids did not make me feel better, and how long it'd been a problem (2 months of steady decline into 2 weeks of extreme concern) and the fact that i wilhelm screamed when pressure was applied to the right places on my abdomen, I was sent up to the hospital for treatment of the severe dehydration + ruling out a bilateral kidney infection and acute kidney injury. they do a blood test and send me up to wait for the results. (this doomed me).

i proceeded to have a 9 hour waiting room wait at second max priority to get in which, that's shit but fine. The hospital is full and our healthcare system is in a state of collapse. i am patient. i am called in at around 6:30am

no fluids provided in that time, if i had not been purchased a 400ml bottle of water I would not have had anything to drink.

i am moved into a bed in the emergency department. a tiny cup of water is provided for pain relief meds taking.

no fluids are provided during the next span of time, wherein i am told very early in the day that they're booking me in for a ct scan, which does not happen until around 2:30pm. i am getting worse and worse.

at one point i am stashed in a corner but they forget to set a call button up for me. i needed desperately to go to the bathroom, and it's quite bad when i become Aware Of That. i end up having to pull the curtains back to the room of the next patient over and ask for help, as i am too weak and lethargic to catch anyone's attention with my voice, unable to stand, and they had closed the curtains. nightmare scenario for me.

i am told that my blood tests came back perfectly normal, which was a marker of confusion and some alarm for me, because, consistently, every time i have had a blood test in at least the past 5 years, my WBC, Lymphocytes and Platelets have been shot up tae fuck. That's my baseline, as confusing and upsetting as it is.

i cannot think of any way to bring this up, and so do not, thinking perhaps i misunderstood and they were taking that into account. now i know that each of those numbers are affected negatively by dehydration so.

that's something i need to follow up on. which is absurd.

but my renal function was normal with no sign of kidney damage so i genuinely take that, however.

i at one point start choking and threw up what little mucus i have in my lower throat because i have not been manufacturing saliva or mucus on account of the dehydration. this causes shifting in my throat, which results in me then being unable to take in fluids through it anyway. it also causes my bladder to partially release.

i attempt to express that this happened but am misunderstood. subsequently no help is provided for that and i had to ask the person i live with for a change of clothes to be brought up. so that was humiliating.

my doctor comes back and says since the CT came back clear and there's no sign of infection they're gonna discharge me, at which point i start to sob and ask if i can be treated for the dehydration that i came in for. The doctor says that since my blood test is normal there is no clinical sign of dehydration despite literally everything else, like the fact i stopped sweating ages ago, the fact i was no longer manufacturing saliva, the lethargy, the confusion, the muscle weakness and spasming, and the fact that with the amount of fluids i could intake at max on my own (2.5L a day with heavy effort) and constant gut troubles for two months, the numbers there just did not check out for me being anything BUT severely dehydrated.

so they tell me that clearly this is a long term issue and they feel bad about it but there's nothing they can do for me here, and tell me to just do everything i already do, do, at home in order to get my hydration up. at which point i am forced to fucking actually beg for a bag of iv fluids, citing the fact that i have not been hydrated the entire time i have been here, and that if i am not given basic care i will be their problem again within 48 hours, that i already do all of those things and they weren't enough and that is why i am here.

at which point, finally, i am given a sodium chloride IV, and told that they'll be kicking me out with a script for pain relief and a recommendation for a swallowing study.

And, wouldn't you know it? Shock, awe, horror?

Applying salty liquid directly to my veins prompted a drastic change for the better? Halfway through the bag my mouth began to create saliva again, three quarters of the way through it I was able to start thinking somewhat clearly again and sit up unassisted, and by the time I had finished it I had come around to something looking like my baseline.

I literally would have been better off asking for another IV at the urgent care, which is what I will do from now on.

Overall, an absolutely humiliating experience, i was constantly infantilized (it will never not be weird to call an adult patient "good girl") and not taken seriously about the things I was experiencing. The effect my connective tissue disorder could be having on what they were seeing was completely ignored by my doctor's boss, and if I was not an advocate myself I would have been unable to press on asking for help before being ejected, which would have meant being tossed back out in a worse condition than I arrived in, which could have been actually lethal for me.

when I was in the car home, since i had enough energy to have fine motor control back, i relocated what was out in my throat - no offer of help was extended to assist with this, by the way.

I then devoured the slipperiest pasta meal i could, imbibed a giant milkshake very carefully through a straw and passed out for two hours, until i could then eat another slippery pasta meal and drink some water and then sleep and now im here.

so my posts now come to you from a less dehydrated place at immense personal cost