#maría rambles

[whoevenismaria]

every fucking time someone talks about "german" i think "why they talking about my friend?????" then i remember germany

[bbcreative-0]

Sonic Idea

Okay so I watch the Sonic 3 Movie like two weeks ago and I came up with an idea that I think is pretty cool. I will admit I’m surprise I haven’t seen someone else pitch this already.

Okay DISCLAIMER: This idea can ONLY apply to Sonic in the movie only. I haven’t been up to date with my Sonic lore so I apologize if I get some things wrongs. I’m only pitching this idea in the hopes people that actually do know what they are talking about can pick this idea up. Please feel free to use this idea all I ask is to be mentioned, tag me, or use the tag I will be using.

SHADOW AND SONIC ROLE SWITCH

Okay I will admit the details are still getting worked on but this basically what I have:

So Sonic ends up getting crashed on Earth, GUN takes him in, and Maddie and Tom take care of Sonic. (Maddie can like a doctor and Tom can be like a guard or something, what matters is they work there)

Maddie and Tom love Sonic like a son, and Sonic loves them like they are his parents. Gerald Robotnik can still be experimenting on Sonic that stuff stays the same. Gerald is very protective over this family because he lost his own so it’s why he is so invested in them.

Tom and Gerald find out what GUN’s plans and they immediately try to escape with Sonic. Maddie joining with them because she isn’t going to leave Sonic behind. They get chased but as they get to the explosion maybe Tom shields Gerald and Maddie try to shield Sonic.

General Walter tries to stop the soldiers and we know what happens. They kaboom, we know what happens. Extra flavor of angst have Maddie try to tell Sonic something but he doesn’t understand/can’t remember because trauma.

Maddie and Tom are dead, Sonic goes to put on ice, and Gerald goes to jail. That part stays the same. Now onto Shadow, he is found by Longclaw, she raises him and here is where Idk how exactly this would work but this is what I got so far.

So when Longclaw is raising Shadow and they get attacked. I think the attack should like people that are connected to Rouge is…IDK how to work that in, (maybe Rouge has a clan like Knuckles) idk but they are only after Longclaw in hopes to find the Master Chaos Emerald. Longclaw saves Shadow and that’s how the first movie plays out.

Shadow lives on Earth in hiding until he gets discovered by a woman named Maria. She takes Shadow in and the whole movie plays out with Shadow and Maria. I think it would be cool if Maria didn’t know who her family is so it will be a big twist when she learns that she is related to Ivo.

Anyways, Maria has Shadow will her. Mother-son dynamic happens and cue the second movie happening. Rouge is after Shadow to get the Chaos Emerald, and Amy is following Shadow around. Ivo and Stone are still the antagonist of everything, they get taken care, and movie ends with Shadow, Rouge, and Amy all becoming Siblings with Maria as the mom

Third movie happens Sonic gets free and is on a revenge quest with Gerald, Ivo, and Stone. We know what happened. It would be cool to see Sonic hurting Maria (By accident) and Shadow having the same mental down that happened in the movie. They fight, save the world, and everything plays out the same in the movie with the characters.

Maybe with the end credit scene it’s like Metal Shadow and maybe Knuckles attacks them??? Tails??? Idk one of them and that’s basically everything I have so far to this idea.

If anyone wants to change or tweak some of this around go for it!!! This whole post is just an excuse for me to ramble a Sonic Idea I have had.

BONUS IDEA: Have Sonic x Amy happen and Shadow is in the background being livid about it because protective big brother

Alright that’s it hopefully someone gets inspired or at least found this interesting (Use the “sonic and shadow role switch” if you’d like to expand on this)

[procrastinating-falcon]

Acabo de ver una canción de María Elena Walsh en YouTube con el título “canción viral de tiktok” y creo que voy a matar a alguien

[mooseonahunt]

I like to change game audios to Spanish (when it’s available) after finishing a first run in English. Let me tell y’all that it has been a struggle trying to keep sane playing RE4R in Spanish cuz Luis has me in a CHOKEHOLD (although when doesn’t he??)

André did a phenomenal job in the English dub and I’m so sad he didn’t get to reprise his role for the Spanish dub, but this Juan Logar guy is KILLING IT out here.

[a-tale-of-legends]

Luca's mom/moddy ( she/they).

[mangora]

Disventure Camp tier list. This isn’t super concrete btw I like all of the characters at least a little bit (except for Nick who I cannot stand. And Jensen who I forget exists)

[clemencetaught]

a heart to heart with best gremlin child ( @mythvoiced from here )

It’s always the victors from the rebel districts who take it the hardest.

Oh yes, Patrick might be considered part of Snow’s council and among the victors, the inner circle most favored by the Capitol, but saying he’s ignorant is like saying Devora has lost her edge.

It helps, on hand, knowing someone who wades shamelessly amongst the rebel circles. Whether he wanted to or not is a very different story mind you- it still amazes Patrick to this day, Hyuk insisting that they keep their bond despite opposing philosophies. It also helps living in one of the strongest hubs for anti-Capitol sentiments. Sure, the districts have been at the mercy of the Capitol for more than half a century, but just as time can weaken sentiments, it can easily strengthen the very same ones. Even if the original holders of such resentments have gone to the grave, does not mean the anger follows.

Their descendants will carry it, cradle it alongside their own. 

It’s no wonder María’s so angry. A young victor, barely even twenty and expected not only to swallow her own anger, but also close to 74 years of anger from District Eight, a particularly rebellious district. Patrick wouldn’t be surprised if Hyuk had some kind of communication with the rebels from there. 

Joan of Arc was the Harbinger of Hope for an ancient kingdom under tyranny, they once said, but what they forget is that hope is merely anger, well channeled. 

“But that’s the reality, is it not?” Or so he says, a shroud falling over his eyes. Her touch burns and for a moment he’s on his last line of defense- if they can see past the facade then, he will make sure there is a chasm waiting for them beyond. It’s safer that way. Easier that way too. 

Sure, he doesn’t care much for what happens to himself, hasn’t for a long time- in comparison to her, if they call her Joan of Arc, then he’s one of the soldiers she’s slain in the name of her crusade. Something depraved. Less than human. But it doesn't mean that it still...smarts when he thinks about it. Hurts more than he'll ever admit to, looking back on the long line of deeds he's degraded himself with. “It doesn’t do to deny what lies in front of us.”

For all the rage that emanates from her very being, she’s a small thing. A tiny, fragile candle flame in the face of a long winter. Even if she wanted to grow into a wildfire, they’d snuff her out before she could even realize how far she could go. Maybe he’s using his height to his advantage here, staring down on her not too differently from a disappointed teacher at their student. There’s a reason he and Devora are considered two peas in a pod.

They both know he is right. That winning the games is only the beginning. That being hollowed out from the inside by the violence, the bloodshed of the games is only the first part and now the remaining husk is a mere plaything for the Capitol to lay their hands on. 

They say she is a harbinger of hope, but the reality is that she’s just the newest commodity of dissent that the Capitol’s youth so love to listen to. 

“Whether you want to believe me or not,” he continues, “This is the reality we live in now- whether you want to change it or uphold it, you will still have to adapt to it. The Capitol may have made the rules, but if you understand them, then you will know more about the Capitol than it does about itself.”

Fishing a handkerchief from his pocket, he leans down, sternness giving way to something…gentler, more sympathetic. Nevermind the fact that the handkerchief is as white as snow ( and that it was a ‘going-away’ present from one of his ‘very generous’ clients ), he wipes away the mascara that has trailed down her face. The makeup stains his handkerchief in ink black rivelets; her hair is next. He’s just glad she hasn’t ruined the dress the stylists have put her in ( yet ). Fixing a piece of clothing is not within his makeshift expertise- he picks up the brush on the dresser.

Patrick wouldn’t have seen this for himself, being scarily proficient at doing hair and applying makeup to others when he barely does neither on himself, but isn’t that who Patrick is supposed to be? The unofficial mentor for the victors and when words aren’t enough, then actions will bridge the gap. Tangible movements that make this hellhole just a little more bearable. He hands her the brush.

“Do you want me to do it, or can you do it yourself?”

[kachimera]

Brand of catholicism that goes "depending on the current pope im either gonna chill out and be nice or run into the woods with the pagan goddess until the next one"

[girlgenius1111]

behave

ingrid leaves for 2 weeks for national duty. sol and mapi try to stay out of trouble and fill the time. they are successful at one of those two objectives. some medical trauma discussed.

-------

“And I have an extra one of her inhalers, in the medicine cabinet in our bathroom. She hasn’t had an asthma attack in a while but-”

“-But just in case, Solstråle has one in her backpack, and you have one in the medicine cabinet. Ingrid, relax. It’s going to be fine. You’ve left the two of us before.” 

“I know, but this time it's for longer, and she’s still not really herself. So many things have happened and I’m so worried,” the Norwegian rambled. It had only been a few weeks since everything had happened, and you were doing better. You were adjusting. Ingrid still didn’t really want you out of her sight, but she was due at the airport to fly back to Norway for the international break. She’d already said goodbye to you back at the house, and now she was very anxiously trying to give Mapi some words of advice before she had to go. It wasn’t the first time she’d left you with Mapi to play for Norway, but it was the first time since your mental health had really declined, since Ingrid became aware of how hard of a time you were having. 

“Ingrid, amor, I know. I will take good care of her. Do you trust me?” Mapi said calmly, squeezing one of Ingrid’s hands. 

“Of course, María, I’m sorry, of course I trust you. It’s just… keep an eye on her? Please?” Ingrid’s worry bled through her tone, eyes pleading with Mapi to agree to her request. 

“I promise, Ingrid. We’ll be completely fine. And if we aren’t, I’ll call you.” 

“Okay.” Ingrid said quietly. 

“Alright. Fly safe, mi amor. I love you.” Mapi said, pulling Ingrid into a hug. Her girlfriend clung to her, and Mapi rubbed her back softly, trying to provide some comfort. 

“I love you too.” Ingrid whispered, pulling back to leave a sweet kiss on her girlfriend’s lips, before turning and walking into the airport. 

Mapi sighed, a bit relieved because she honestly wasn’t sure she wouldn’t be returning home with Ingrid after a failed airport drop off. The Norwegian had been increasingly anxious about you in recent weeks, and Mapi knew that leaving you, now, felt like she was failing you as a sister, and as a guardian. She also knew, however, that she had the situation handled. You were comfortable with Mapi, and she was confident in her abilities to keep an eye on you, and make sure you were doing okay. 

She understood Ingrid’s anxiety. The Norwegian had always been a person who needed to feel control. Leaving her very vulnerable sister behind while she went off to play football for two weeks would certainly not give Ingrid the sense of control she craved in every situation that scared her. 

Ingrid had gone, though. Entered the airport, gotten on the plane. And now it was time for Mapi to get back home to you, and begin the 2 weeks of fun she had planned. 

------

Mapi wanted to bond with you, in a way that didn’t involve heavy emotions and tears being spilled. She wanted to do something fun that you enjoyed. Even if it wasn’t something that she necessarily wouldn’t have chosen. When you enthusiastically suggested that you both go to your rock climbing gym, she’d agreed easily. How hard could it be? She was a professional athlete. She was fit and strong, and she knew she could do it. She’d checked with the trainers at Barça, and she’d been cleared for the activity. An important piece of information that she’d forgotten, however, was that she wasn’t the biggest fan of heights. 

Well, it wasn’t that she forgot. It was more that she just didn’t think it would be an issue. Her fear of heights had decreased significantly in recent years. She went on hikes often up tall hills and mountains, and was barely bothered. She didn’t stop to consider that being tied to a wall and climbing to the top with very little support would be harder. 

It was easy to get on the helmet, the harness, and all the gear. It was adorable to watch you expertly tie the knots to her carabiner, very nonchalantly, though Mapi could tell you wanted to impress her. It was fun to learn all the silly little commands she was supposed to shout. It was fun that you knew all the right pointers to tell her, easily getting her going up the wall. It was even fun climbing; it took a specific muscle strength that was slightly different than the one she possessed, and it was just difficult enough to present a challenge, without being overwhelmingly difficult. 

As she got higher up, though, she became more and more aware that the only thing between her and falling a very significant distance to the ground was a rope and a self belaying machine. She kept herself calm, though, until she got to the top of the wall. She allowed herself a small smile, glancing down at where you were cheering for her. 

That was her mistake. The ground was so far away. And once she started to panic she couldn’t really stop. 

You were yelling instructions up to her, ones she could barely hear.“Okay, like I told you. Flip the hand brake to the other side, and let the slack of the rope slide through your hand.” 

“NO!” Mapi shouted, surprising even herself with the volume of her voice. “I can’t.” 

“What do you mean you can’t? Is it stuck?” You replied. It didn’t even occur to you that Mapi might be scared. She was Mapi. She was fearless and confident and she was brave for you when you weren’t sure you could be. 

“No, Sol, I can’t. I can’t.” Mapi said again, and you were floored to hear her start to get choked up. She had a white knuckle grip on the rope in one hand, holding tight to one of the handholds with the other. She looked like her whole body was trembling, and you floundered for a minute, entirely lost on what to do and how to help. 

Though after thinking about it for another minute, the solution was clear. Ingrid could fix Mapi, just like Mapi could always fix Ingrid. 

“Okay, Maps, hold on I’m gonna help you.” You shouted, seeing her nod weakly. There was no getting her down like this. You had to have some confidence in the equipment, and yourself, in order to repel down the wall, and Mapi clearly possessed confidence in neither of those things at the moment. 

You grabbed your phone and called Ingrid. It went right to voicemail. You called again, waving off the worker who came up to ask if you needed help. 

“I’m calling Ingrid, Mapi, just hang on.” 

Ingrid didn’t answer for a second time. You dialed Caro’s number, one you had for emergencies, and she picked up on the first ring, no doubt concerned at the sight of your name on the caller ID. 

“Hello?” Caro said. 

“Caro, are you with Ingrid? Can you get her for me?” 

“Uh… yeah. She’s in the gym, I’ll grab her. Is everything okay?” 

“No, please hurry.” 

It was unsettling to see Mapi this distraught, and you were absolutely flooded with guilt that you’d made her do this. She was clearly terrified and it was all your fault.

You heard some muffled voices over the phone before Ingrid’s absolutely panicked one came over the line. 

“Solstråle? What is it?” She asked, beside herself with worry. 

“Um. Mapi and I went to the climbing gym. And she made it to the top of the wall but now she’s… stuck.” 

“Stuck? What do you mean stuck?” 

“She’s too afraid to come down, I don’t know what to do.” 

Ingrid fought off a smile. The mental image of Mapi stuck at the top of an indoor climbing wall, securely attached to a rope, a thick mat underneath her, in absolutely no danger at all, was comical, she couldn’t lie. 

“Switch it to a video call.” She instructed, for no other reason than to get photographic evidence of this. Alexia would be getting a late birthday gift this year, in the form of this moment, framed. 

You did as she asked, flipping the camera around to show Mapi up at the top of the wall. It was the shortest one in the place, and Ingrid had a very clear view of her girlfriend, holding onto the wall and the rope for dear life. 

“Oh, María.” Ingrid chuckled, finding the whole situation very amusing. She took a screenshot, before you spoke and the situation became significantly less funny. 

“Ingrid, I think she’s crying.” You murmured. That sobered up your sister pretty quickly. It was one thing for Mapi to be scared, and entirely another for her to be so terrified she was moved to tears. Ingrid very suddenly remembered Mapi’s fading fear of heights. Or, what was supposed to be a fading fear of heights. 

“Shit. Can you get up there? With me in your pocket or something?” 

You sounded almost cocky when you responded. “I could get up there with my eyes closed. It’s the easiest wall.” 

Ingrid rolled her eyes. “Okay, get me up to her.” 

You did as your sister asked, attaching your harness to the ropes and getting the self belay machine all set, before you slipped your sister into your pocket, and climbed up the wall, at a speed that could only be described as a sprint. It took longer than it could have, because you went slightly diagonal, trying to get as close to Mapi as you could. When you reached her, she seemed completely spaced out, every muscle in her body tensed, a few tears on her cheeks. 

You pulled your phone out of your pocket, turned the volume up, and held it up so Mapi could see her girlfriend. 

“María?” Ingrid said soothingly. 

Mapi snapped back into herself, her head whipping around to look at the phone, and at you. 

“Ingrid.” she said, relief clear in her voice. 

“Hey. Are you scared?” 

“No, I am staying up here for fun Ingrid.” Mapi snapped. Ingrid looked unimpressed, and Mapi mumbled an apology. 

“Can you listen to what Sol tells you to do? And do it with her?” 

“Isn’t there another way I can get down?” She asked in a quiet voice. 

“Yeah, I can cut the rope and you’d drop right down.” You deadpanned. Mapi looked horrified at you, and you choked back a laugh. 

“Solstråle, that is not nice!” Ingrid scolded. “María, my love, you are completely safe. You’re going to do what Sol says, and you’ll be back on the ground in a second, okay?” 

“Okay.” Mapi agreed, glaring at you. 

“See you in a sec Ingrid! If we make it down alive,” you added, tucking your sister back into your pocket before she could yell at you again. 

When you spoke again, though, it was soft and encouraging, and Mapi knew that you were taking her fear seriously. It is one of those little signs that you loved her, too. You weren’t as good at saying it, having not heard it said to you for a lot of your life, but you showed it. When you’d squeeze her hand during a Barça game, knowing how hard it was for her to sit out. When you’d find a silly cat tiktok and send it to her, even though she knew you didn’t find whatever it was very funny. And now, when you talked her through the whole thing, assuring her that she’d be safe the whole time. 

“It’s gonna be fine, Maps. Flip the handbrake off, and hold tight to the rope. You won’t go anywhere until you let yourself.” 

Mapi found herself following your instructions without much thought. You just very clearly sounded like you knew what you were doing. 

“Okay, good. Now loosen your hand on the rope, just a little. A bit will slide through and you’ll drop. The less you let go of, the slower you’ll descend.” Mapi let the rope go a bit, lowering maybe an inch. You nodded encouragingly, lowering down with her. “Keep your feet on the wall. You’re just going to walk yourself down. You can go as slow as you need to.” 

Very slowly, at the pace of a wounded snail, you and Mapi moved down the wall. You didn’t stop talking the whole time, forgetting, honestly, that Ingrid was in your pocket. 

She was sitting in the hallway, all the way in Norway, wondering what she did to deserve such a sweet sister, who cared so deeply for the people around her. Who adjusted to her girlfriend without a second thought. Who was sensitive and loving, even if you pretended not to be. 

When Mapi got down the wall, she was still shaking too badly to undo the harness. You handed her your phone, un attaching her from the wall, as she spoke quietly to your sister. When she was free, and you were free, you shoved your face next to hers, greeting Ingrid again. 

If Mapi was worried you’d make fun of her, she didn't have to be. 

You just smiled at her. “Ice cream?” You asked hopefully. Mapi and Ingrid felt their lips both tug up into smiles, matching smiles. 

“Definitely.” Mapi agreed. 

The day had been a bonding experience. Just in a very different way than Mapi had anticipated. 

------

You enjoyed spending time with Mapi, you really did. But you were also a person that needed a lot of time to yourself. Maybe it was a consequence of having no one around who paid much attention to you growing up, or maybe it was just how you were wired. Either way, after almost 2 weeks of spending every minute with your sister’s girlfriend, you needed a break. 

Some silence, and a break. 

Which is how you found yourself on a long hike, two days before Ingrid was due home. You’d gone yourself, without Scout, which wasn’t a common occurrence, but you wanted to be gone for a while. Just you and nature and nothing but your thoughts to echo around your head. 

When you got to a fork in the path, you stopped to consider. The right path would lead you back down, and you’d be home within the hour. The left path would lead you through a tricky boulder section of the hike, and you’d be gone another 2 hours. 

Your only hesitation with the left path was that Ingrid had very specifically told you not to take it alone. You’d talked to her before you’d left, and she’d warned you that the boulders were really tricky, and you shouldn’t do it by yourself. She promised to go with you when she got back, if you promised not to do it today. 

Mapi would never know, though. You’d just tell her you stopped at the top to enjoy the views for a bit, before you headed down. And if Mapi didn’t know, Ingrid wouldn’t know. And you really, really, just wanted some more time to yourself. 

So you set off to the left, ignoring the nagging feeling in your gut that you were making a mistake. 

------

You didn’t remember it hurting this bad, having a broken bone. It was definitely broken, though. You’d heard it go, even as your body hit the ground with a loud thump. 

The boulders had been tricky. So incredibly tricky. They were slightly loose and wobbly, and there were big gaps in between where you could easily fall. You had to get up and over a pile of rocks to keep moving, and you were tired. There were only a few more, by your estimations, and you were so relieved to almost be done that you were a bit more careless on the last few. 

It was the final obstacle that you fell from. You lost your footing towards the end of the boulder pile, rolling and tumbling down the last boulder, and onto the dirt path. You threw your arm out to catch yourself, and that was all it took. 

Sitting for a moment, you assessed your hand. It was broken. You knew instantly. You’d felt this before, you knew what it was. You felt strangely calm after making that assessment, carefully testing all of your fingers, and trying to move your wrist. 

Ouch. No, it was definitely broken. You had a couple options. You could call Mapi to come get you. She’d freak out and call your sister, who would be furious that you’d done exactly what she warned you not to. Or, you could finish the hike and get home. Pretend you were tired from your hike, or sick or something, and sneak away into your bedroom. Sleep it off. 

Logically, you knew the second option was bullshit. You couldn’t hide a broken arm forever. The thought of going to the doctor, though, was not something you would even consider. You only had one choice. 

You rose to your feet, the movement jostling your arm just enough to make your stomach turn. You bent over, throwing up onto the path. Straightening up again, you set off down the path, arm cradled close to your body. You could do this. You were strong and independent and you didn’t need anyones help. 

------

You felt like the universe was on your side, with the way things were going. Aside from the broken arm, of course. You were able to slip past Mapi, telling her a small lie that you’d grabbed food on the way home and weren’t feeling well, before you made it to your room. She popped her head in to say goodnight, and if she thought your behavior was weird, she didn’t say anything. 

You waited until she was in bed to shower, knowing she’d be up early for training the next day. You weren’t quite sure what your plan was past that, but you were taking this step by step. 

If Mapi didn’t know, she wouldn’t make you go to the doctor. She wouldn’t tell Ingrid. And Ingrid wouldn’t be mad. 

It was very poor logic, but logic nonetheless. 

You probably could have kept it up for longer, too, if your damn dog wasn’t so intelligent. 

------

Scout wasn’t sure what a broken bone was. Nor was he sure what was wrong with you. But you were hurting, had cried yourself to sleep the night before, and no one was doing anything. The helpful tall one was gone, leaving him with only the annoying and loud short one. Scout didn't think she was very smart, but he’d try to get the message across that someone should probably do something about you, his favorite person on planet earth. 

He followed her around when she arrived home from training. She ignored him. 

When she sat on the couch and turned the TV on, he stood right next to her, staring daggers at her face. She ignored him. 

It wasn’t until he started to whine loudly, and paw at her hand that she got fed up and finally looked at him. 

“Scout, chico, I am begging you to leave me alone.” Mapi sighed. The dog just looked at her, taking a tiny step closer to the Spaniard and letting out a quiet whine. “I swear to god.” 

She stood from the couch, heading for your room. If Scout would listen to anyone, it would be you. And she assumed that he was just pouting because you had shut your door, not allowing him inside. Now that Mapi thought about it, though, she realized she hadn’t seen you at all today, though she had exchanged texts with you while she was at training. Upon arriving at your door she raised her hand to knock, but before her hand could make contact with the wood, she heard a quiet, pained yelp come from the room. 

Mapi frowned. “Nena?” She called, knocking on the door before trying to knob. 

It was locked. 

You never locked your door. 

Mapi paused for a moment, looking down at Scout next to her, who was panting and staring up at her. See, his eyes seemed to say. I told you something was wrong. 

“Solstråle? Can I come in?” 

Inside, you had clapped your good hand over your mouth, realizing that Mapi had heard the sound you’d made. You’d been trying to pull a sweatshirt on to hide the awful sight of your arm, but even the soft brush of the fabric against your arm was horribly painful. 

Fuck. Fuck. Mapi wasn’t going to go away, not without seeing you. You struggled with the sweatshirt further before responding, but you were unable to muffle a cry of pain when your forearm twisted slightly. 

You shut your eyes, fighting back tears. “I’m fine, Mapi.” You replied, though you knew very well that it would not be enough for the Spaniard. 

“You don’t sound fine.” Mapi said, twisting the knob again, as if it would have magically unlocked itself in the last few seconds. 

“I am. All good.” You said back, fighting against the urge to open the door and collapse into her arms; your arm was on fire, the pain so bad that you were barely keeping yourself from openly sobbing. 

On the other side of the door, Mapi shook her head, growing more and more panicked. You didn’t sound right, not at all. Scout next to her had begun to pace, and she was trying to figure out if she could break the door down before she spoke again. 

“Open the door, nena. I am not asking. I need to see that you’re safe.” Mapi said firmly, closing her eyes and praying to god that you were okay. 

You had no choice. You stepped forward, unlocking the door, and Mapi’s eyes fell to you, cradling your arm close to your chest. You arm that looked wrong. It was bent at a slightly awkward angle, turning an ugly shade of purple, and it was twice the size of how it normally was.

“Jesus.” Mapi sighed, stepping closer to you, she missed the pure panic that flashed across your face, but she saw you flinch violently away from her, backing up until you were on the opposite side of the room. There were tears in your eyes, and Mapi froze, raising her hands in the air.

“Sol,” Mapi began, her heart shattering when you shook your head rapidly, wordlessly begging for something, although Mapi wasn’t quite sure what. “It’s just me, Sol. I won’t touch your arm. I just want to look at it, okay? I promise, I will not touch you.” 

You blinked at her for a minute, before nodding slowly. You moved over to your bed, taking a seat on the edge, sitting rather stiffly. It was a testament to the trust you had in the Spaniard that you held your arm out for her to see, a quiet sob falling from your lips. 

Mapi moved closer slowly, like you were a wild animal she didn’t want to scare off, until she was standing right in front of you. She kept her hands behind her back, simply looking at your arm. It was broken. Mapi wasn’t a doctor, but this wasn’t a difficult determination to make. A broken arm is pretty obvious. 

“What happened?” 

“I fell.” 

“How did you fall?” 

“I was hiking along those rocks that Ingrid told me not to climb on and I lost my balance and fell on my arm.”

“This was yesterday?” Mapi breathed, sick to her stomach at the thought that you’d been hiding this from her for so long. That you’d been hiding it at all, but that you’d gone to sleep with an untreated broken bone, that she’d left you alone while she went to training, while you had a broken bone. 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh, cariño.” She sighed. “You must be in so much pain.” She studied you closely, and she decided that now was not the time to have a conversation about hiding things from her. “Nena, do you want a hug?” 

Now that she knew, it was even harder to pretend that you were fine. She was right. You had been in a lot of pain. You were acutely aware of that pain, now, and how desperately you wanted someone to take charge of the situation and make everything okay. 

“Please,” you whispered, leaning in her direction. Mapi very carefully wrapped her arms around you, gently rubbing her hand up and down your back. You trembled against her, and Mapi thought at that moment that she would break her own arm if it meant you weren’t in pain. 

Mapi hugged you tight for a minute before she very regretfully pulled back, putting her hands on her shoulders and studying you. “Okay. Okay. Here is what we’re going to do. Tomorrow, we are going to have a talk about hiding injuries from us. Because Sol, this is so dangerous. I don’t know why you didn’t tell me, and you can explain later, but right now we need to go see a doctor.” 

“No.” You said simply, your face hardening as you looked up at the Spaniard. And it wasn’t that Mapi hadn’t expected some resistance; she knew that you had an issue with doctors. It was the decisiveness with which you spoke, and the barely masked fright on your face. 

“Solstråle, we need to get that x-rayed.” 

“No. It’s fine, Mapi.”

“It isn’t fine! It looks broken, nena, we need to get it looked at.” 

“No. No doctors, no hospital, no x-ray.” 

“Solstråle, I will call your sister if I need to. We are going to the doctor.” 

A look of betrayal flashed across our face, and you held your arm tighter to your body in a protective manner. “Please don’t make me.” You whispered. 

Harsh wasn’t working. Demanding wasn’t working. Mapi knew she couldn’t force you. She just had to convince you. She stepped closer, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You are scared, that’s okay. I’ll be with you the whole time, though, nena. Do you trust me?” 

“Yeah.” You said, your voice cracking a bit, looking up at Mapi with wide, wet eyes. 

“I promise you, I am not going to let anything happen to you.”

You considered for a moment. You knew, realistically, that you had to go in. And you also knew that Ingrid was probably going to be furious with you. You craved comfort from your sister, though, you needed to hear her voice, telling you that you were safe. Ingrid knew a bit more than Mapi did about your issue with doctors, even though she didn’t have the full story. Ingrid was safe, and so was Mapi, but you really just wanted your sister. 

“Can I call Ingrid on the way there?”

And even though Mapi winced internally at mere thought of how upset this would make her girlfriend, she nodded. “Of course you can. Come on, let’s go.” 

The care with which Mapi helped you down the stairs brought tears to your eyes. She put your shoes on for you, double knotting the laces like you always did, before she paused, crouched in front of where you sat on the bench by the front door. 

“I promise you, Sol. I am not going to let anything happen to you. Okay? I’ve got you, kid.” She said, watching as you blinked hard, clenching your jaw and nodding. 

“Yeah, thanks,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. Mapi helped you up, then, and you both exited the house. 

Mapi dialed the phone in the car, connecting it to the speaker. Ingrid picked up on the first ring, almost like she knew something was wrong. “Hi mi amor,” she greeted warmly. 

“Hola. We’re in the car, Sol is with me.” 

“Hi solstråle,” Ingrid said.

“Hi,” you replied, not uttering another word. 

“Tell her what happened, mi sol.” Mapi encouraged

“Tell me what? What happened?” Ingrid asked, her tone much more concerned and serious. 

“I hurt my arm. We’re going to the doctor.” You mumbled. Ingrid sighed, but she got the feeling that this wasn’t the worst of what you had to tell her, that it was going to get worse. 

“How? What’s wrong with it?”

“I was hiking and I fell. Mapi thinks it’s broken.” 

“Broken…climbing… on the trail I told you to be careful on- wait, Sol that was yesterday. This happened yesterday!?” Ingrid shouted. “Why are you just taking her now, María?”

Mapi winced. “I didn’t know until now.” 

“YOU DIDN’T TELL MAPI UNTIL NOW?” Ingrid yelled, so loudly that the speakers crackled slightly. 

Mapi glanced over at you to see that there were tears pouring down your cheeks, and your bottom lip captured in between your teeth, as you tried valiantly not to cry. Shit.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Relax, let’s all just take a breath.” She soothed, turning to pull over on a side street. 

“María, I will not relax, this is not oka-”

“Ingrid, stop.” Mapi said firmly, her voice more stern than you’d ever heard it. Ingrid fell silent. “Sol, breathe. Ingrid isn’t mad, she’s just worried. We are okay, everything is okay.”

You nodded frantically, trying to get a handle on your emotions, which were, frankly, overwhelming at the moment. “Sorry, I’m sorry Ingrid, I’m so sorry.” You sobbed. 

Ingrid felt her heart shatter. She hadn’t meant to shout. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled, honey.” 

“I just- the last time I hurt my arm mom didn’t believe me and you told me to be careful and I didn’t want you to be mad, and I didn’t know if you’d think I was lying, and I don’t want to go to the doctor, Ingrid, but Mapi is taking me and she says I have to, and-” you cut yourself off with another loud sob, before arms were reaching over the center console and wrapping around you. 

“Shh, nena, it’s okay. You are safe, you are loved. You are okay.” Mapi whispered, loud enough that Ingrid could hear it over the phone. Tears were falling down her cheeks, too, for a combination of reasons. Mostly, though, because her girlfriend was being so absurdly sweet and patient with you. Not that María would ever be anything different, but Ingrid would never stop appreciating it.

Once you’d calmed down a bit, you leaned back away from Mapi, looking at her desperately. “María I really don’t want to go to the doctor, please don’t make me,” you begged. Even as everything in Mapi wanted to give in and take you home where you felt safe, her eyes flickered down to your arm, which was black and blue and swollen, and she knew that wasn’t an option. Before she could speak, though, Ingrid chimed in. 

“Solstråle, switch the phone to a video call and let me see your arm.” 

You did as she asked, fighting back another wave of tears when Ingrid’s face popped up on the screen, looking sympathetically at you. You held up your arm, holding back a groan of pain as you did so, not happy when Ingrid frowned at the sight. 

“Sweetheart,” 

“No,” you cried, hiding your face in the crook of your elbow. This was absurd. Your arm was clearly broken, you were 18 years old, and you were afraid of the doctor. Like a child. It was humiliating and you wanted nothing more than to pretend that this was fine, that you were fine going to get a few x-rays and a cast, but the feelings of anxiety and panic were only rising in you again, and your whole body shook at the thought of letting a doctor anywhere near your arm.

“I know, I know,” Ingrid whispered, sounding like she really did know. While your parents had always dismissed your fear of doctors as you being dramatic, ingrid had always been able to tell that you were completely and utterly terrified of going in for a check up, or going into the hospital. The pure horror in your eyes whenever you had to do so was proof enough, but she’d had to take you once, just to get your flu shot, and you’d silently cried the entire way to the office, thrown up in the bathroom upon arriving, and almost broke her hand with your strong grip while the shot was being administered. 

You hadn’t always been like this, though. It had started when you were 10, and Ingrid had never known the reason. You’d never told her, and your parents hadn’t either. 

“You’re scared, yes? Can you tell me what is making you so afraid?” Ingrid asked gently. 

You took a few shuddering breaths before hesitantly looking at her on the screen. “When I broke my arm? They had to reset it because mom waited to take me to the doctor and the bones were in the wrong spot. 

They told me they were going to put some ice on it and a bandage and then the nurses were holding me down and the doctor was forcing the bones back into place.”

You took a minute, trying to stop the incessant shakes that were running through your body at the memory. You jumped slightly when Mapi’s hand found your uninjured one, but you grabbed on tight, closing your eyes to finish your explanation. 

“I cried and I screamed and mom told me to stop being dramatic, and that I was embarrassing her in front of all the doctors. They made her leave the room then, and it was just me and the doctor and the nurses. The bones didn’t go back right on the first try, and they had to do it two more times before it worked. Mom only came in when they were done and they were putting the cast on. I asked her if I could call you, and she said no, because you were too busy for me.”

It all made sense, now. Ingrid remembered coming back from international duty after you’d broken your arm. You’d seemed so depressed and withdrawn, and she’d assumed you were upset about the injury. Never could she have imagined what had gone on while she was gone.  

“That is awful, nena. You did not deserve that, and I am so sorry that happened to you.” Mapi began, her voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “I understand why you’re scared. I promise you, though, I won’t let anyone touch you until you say it’s okay. They’ll tell you what they’re going to do before they do it, and I’ll be with you the whole time.” 

Your sister could tell that you were slightly more convinced, now. You really trusted Mapi. She’d never given you a reason not to trust her. 

“Solstråle, you really need to get it looked at. I’m sorry I’m not there, I’m sorry I wasn’t there the first time, but Mapi is going to take really good care of you, okay?”

“Okay.” You agreed, another tear sliding down your cheek. Even as you did so, though, even as you gave Mapi permission to start the car and resume the drive to the hospital, you weren’t sure you could do this. You understood the importance of getting your arm taken care of, and you’d try. Whether you’d get through this hospital trip, though, was a different story.

--------

Mapi was relatively sure she was going to need an x-ray herself; you were holding her hand so tightly, your knuckles were white. You were shaking in the hospital bed, a vacant expression on your face. 

You’d been sort of… despondent since returning from your x-ray. The doctors had insisted you go alone, and after some convincing, you’d agreed. When they walked you back into the room where Mapi was waiting, though, it was clear you were in another place. All she could do was wait for you to come back a bit. 

 “Mapi?” You said quietly, getting the attention of the Spaniard, who had been looking down at her phone, texting your sister.

“Sí nena?” Mapi replied, very gently squeezing your hand. You looked at her, then, making eye contact for the first time since returning from x-rays, and Mapi winced at the terror in your eyes. 

“I don’t feel safe.” You whispered, unsure of what else you could do or say. You needed help, your fear was rapidly becoming overwhelming, especially because you knew that any minute, the doctor would be returning. 

Mapi nodded sympathetically, reaching out with her free hand to push some hair off your forehead. She knew that physical touch was often the only thing that could comfort you when you were feeling anxious. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel more safe?” 

“Promise you won’t leave? You won’t let them hurt me?” 

“I will stay right here with you the whole time. And I will never let anyone hurt you.” Mapi looked at you with such conviction, spoke with such confidence and finality, you had no choice but to believe her. 

“I want to go home.” You whimpered, your voice cracking. 

“Soon, mi sol. Soon.” 

It was only a few minutes later that the doctor returned. She was a kind woman, gentle and cautious. She had some  understanding that you were afraid, and she’s respected that. She told you everything she was going to do before she did it, and she hadn’t once made you feel ridiculous for how you were acting. 

“Alrighty. Got your x rays here. We’re looking at a bilateral forearm fracture, which means both the radius and the ulna are broken. The fractured are clean across, nothing is displaced which is good news for you; that means we can put the cast on, and nothing has to get put back into place.” 

Mapi watched as your body practically deflated next to her, a long sigh of relief escaping your lips. 

The doctor continued. “I am curious, though. Have you broken this arm before?”

You stiffened slightly, and Mapi shifted next to you, moving closer unconsciously in a protective manner. 

“Yeah, when I was 10.” 

The doctor nodded. “I can see it on the x-ray, there’s a line here, where it didn't heal exactly right. That white dot? You’ve developed a bit of a bone spur there where the bones weren’t properly aligned the first time. Does it give you pain?” 

You shrugged. The relief was gone from your face, and you only looked defensive now. “Sometimes.” 

Mapi guessed that sometimes meant often, and she wondered if you ever would have told her and Ingrid that you were having issues with your arm, if this hadn’t occurred. 

“Well, the good news is your bones are not at risk for healing in the wrong spot, so you should avoid a repeat of the first injury complications. There are options, though, if that bone spur continues to give you issues. Physical therapy, steroid injections, and surgery are all on the table.”

You nodded, jaw clenched tightly shut. Mapi could tell this wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have, and she figured you’d been pushed far enough today. 

“Thank you, very much. What is the recovery time like?” She said, effectively drawing the attention away from you as the conversation turned to casts and braces and slings. 

You might as well have been in another room, for all you heard. You didn’t need to get the bones reset. Just a cast. You could handle that. 

Or, you thought you could. It was much more stress-inducing than you expected, when the doctor came in with the items to make the cast, and reached for your arm. You flinched away from her violently, looking helplessly at Mapi. You were thinking about how she said she wouldn’t let anyone touch you if you didn’t want them to, and Mapi knew that. 

“Can you give her a second, please?” Mapi said, not taking her eyes off of you as she slid into the hospital bed you were sitting upright in. 

The doctor nodded, for her part lacking understanding, but not needing an explanation to respect that you were clearly terrified. 

“Sol, breathe. It’s just the cast. They’re gonna put it on, they aren’t going to mess with your arm. You can do this, I know you can.” Mapi encouraged, more than a little surprised when you took a deep breath, nodded, and held your arm out to the doctor.You turned your head away, pressing your face into Mapi’s shoulder, gripping onto her shirt with your good hand. 

You were putting all of your trust in Mapi in that moment, to ensure that the doctor was gentle and didn’t do anything she hadn’t said she would. This wasn’t lost on the Spaniard, and she watched closely as they wrapped your arm, and began applying the plaster. 

She could feel your tears soaking through the fabric of her shirt, though you were completely silent as you cried. Not for the first time, and probably not for the last time, Mapi cursed your mother with everything in her. The woman had given her Ingrid, and you by extension, but she had inflicted so much pain on you in your short life. Mapi ached for the day where these scars weren’t painfully obvious, for the day you could go to the doctor without fear, ask for a hug when you needed one, cry openly when you were hurting, believe with all your heart that you were loved. 

She held tight to you, watching as the doctor put the finishing touches on your cast. 

“I’ve got you, nena.” She whispered. “Almost done.” 

You were too good to have experienced everything that you had. She just wanted you to be happy. 

When you pulled away from her to inspect your arm, she could still see such apprehension written clearly across your face. She wondered how long it would take for it to fully leave. Or if it ever would. Some scars never faded. 

You gave her a watery smile, though, nodding towards the blue of your cast. “Couldn’t get it blaugrana but this is good too, right?” You joked. 

Mapi returned your smile, feeling a very familiar spark of hope inside of her chest. Of course you would be okay. Of course you would. You were one of the strongest, most resilient people she knew. 

“Very good. I am going to draw something so inappropriate on there before your sister gets home.” 

You laughed, and Mapi laughed, both of you felt a bit like everything would be okay. Even if Ingrid scribbled over whatever Mapi drew on your cast. 

-------

You sat blankly on the couch upon arriving home, staring at the cast your hand was wrapped in. You weren’t really sure what to do now, and it didn’t seem like Mapi knew, either. She took a seat next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into her. 

“Talk to me, nena.” She encouraged.

“I just don’t feel good. I’m really tired.” You told her. 

“It’s been a long day, your body is coming down from a lot of stress and anxiety. You’re okay, now, so let’s just lay on the couch and relax, sí?”

You agreed, shifting to move into your spot in the corner of the sectional, before you paused. “Can you stay with me?” You asked. 

Mapi smiled at you. “Of course I can. Even if it means your damn dog is going to come lay on my legs and get fur all over my pants.” 

You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly, but you couldn’t give much of an argument because Scout jumped up on the couch right after, flopping down on your legs, making sure to stretch a leg out to rest on Mapi’s legs, too. 

You dozed off relatively easily, clearly drained from a very emotionally and physically exhausting day, and Mapi took the opportunity to call her girlfriend, who she had been updating over text frequently, but who would still be, no doubt, beside herself with worry. 

When Ingrid answered the phone, and only Mapi��s face appeared in view of the camera, Ingrid half convinced herself that you’d locked yourself in a room somewhere and were refusing to come out. Mapi shifted the camera, though, showing you absolutely passed out on the couch, your uninjured hand holding onto her arm, something you’d done completely in your sleep. 

“Hey.” Mapi greeted. She didn’t worry about the volume of her voice; you could sleep through anything. 

“Hi.” Ingrid said, feeling ridiculously emotional at the sight of her two favorite people together. “She’s okay?”

“Yeah. It was really hard for her, I’ve never seen her that anxious. They just put a cast on, though, and she’s relaxed enough now to rest. She was so exhausted, Ingrid, I’d be surprised if she slept at all last night.” Mapi paused as Ingrid hummed. The Norwegian could tell her girlfriend was upset, just from the way her mouth was set stiffly, and the way her eyebrows furrowed slightly. 

“How are you doing my love? That must have been really hard to see.” She commented, studying Mapi’s expression closely. 

The Spaniard just shrugged, though. “I am sorry this happened, I know how worried you must have been being so far away.” 

Ingrid shook her head. “Don’t do that, don’t try to distract me. I want to know how you are doing.” 

Mapi nibbled on her lip for a moment, her eyes everywhere but on the phone in front of her. “I am so sorry Ingrid.” She said finally, the phone dropping into her lap as she wiped impatiently at her eyes. Ingrid had to be furious with her. Had to be. This was all Mapi’s fault, after all. 

Of course, Ingrid had never considered blaming Mapi, not for a single minute. “No, baby, this isn’t your fault.” She said, as if she’d read her girlfriends mind. Mapi could only scoff. “I’m serious, María. These things happen, it’s no one's fault.” 

“She didn’t tell me. She didn’t trust me enough to tell me.” Mapi whispered. 

Ingrid frowned. “No, she trusts you. It’s complicated with her, when she’s hurt. You heard what she said about when she broke her arm the first time. Her response to being hurt was completely based on that experience, it had nothing to do with you.” 

Everything Ingrid said was so logical, Mapi had a hard time coming up with a counter argument. She wasn’t quite ready to forgive herself, though, so she changed the subject. 

“You come home tomorrow.” She said, a small smile gracing her lips. 

Ingrid let the very obvious subject change go in favor of smiling back at her girlfriend. “I do. I’ve missed you both so much.” 

“I have to make sure to sign Sol’s cast before you get here.” Mapi said thoughtfully.

Ingrid grew pale at the thought. “No, María, whatever you are planning to put on there please, please don’t. Just write your name.” 

“Oh, my name will be on there.” Mapi smirked. 

Well, at least it didn’t seem like she was planning something explicit. “Leave room for me to sign too.” Ingrid said grumpily. 

Mapi almost jumped when you chimed in from next to her, throat slightly scratchy. “Ingrid signs first. Those are the rules.” You mumbled, barely opening your eyes to address your sister when Mapi tilted the phone towards you. 

“Ha!” Ingrid said, looking very pleased with herself.

Mapi wanted to argue, she really did. She knew, though, that Ingrid felt insecure about her relationship with you. You were a bit more open with Mapi, a bit more outwardly trusting. Mapi knew this was just because she normally had a much softer approach, though Ingrid’s tougher one was definitely necessary. She knew, too, that Ingrid worried a lot that you preferred Mapi to your sister. So, she let this one go. 

“Fine. I don’t need to sign it. I’ve already got that number 4 tattooed on you.” 

Ingrid paled. “No. No you didn’t. María Pilar León Cebrian, no you did not.” 

“She did. It’s huge, on my right ass cheek.” Next to you, Mapi stifled her laughter, and you did your best to keep a straight face. 

“You better be kidding. I swear to god if I get off that airplane and you have a four tattooed on your ass I will kill you both right there.” 

“How are you going to check? Are you going to pants me in the airport?” You laughed. 

“Solstråle,” Ingrid began, her teeth clenched. 

“Relaaaax Ingrid. I don’t have any more tattoos,” 

She let out a sigh of relief. “Thank god.” 

“...Yet.” You added, laughing with Mapi when Ingrid brought the phone closer to her face. 

“NO! No, Solstråle, no no no no no.” 

You and Mapi laughed so hard you could barely breathe, hearing Ingrid repeating no over and over. 

Ingrid rolled her eyes, but she wasn’t annoyed, not really. You were laughing and that was a big change from before. You were on the road to recovery, and you looked adorable all curled up next to Mapi, grinning at your sister through the phone. How could she be upset at your [stupid, idiotic, immature] joke?

Though she really would murder her girlfriend if you had another tattoo when she got home. 

-------

this took me an absolutely absurd amount of time.

hope you enjoy sol <3

ps. please tell me all your sol thoughts comments keep me living and breathing 🫶🏻🫶🏻

[moirasdolly]

˚ ⋆ﾟ୨୧ Vampire Heart ୨୧ ˚ ⋆ﾟ Arlecchino x Fem Reader

Synopsis: You had gotten all dolled up for Arlecchino expecting a long night full of many surprises. You didn’t know what you had gotten yourself into until it was too late, but you find yourself ignoring the other woman’s red flags.

Contains: NSFW (men and minors dni), graphic depictions of blood sucking, hurt/comfort (only slight angst).

Listening to ♪ ིྀ: …baby one more time - The Marías

Previous chapter: 2

Notes: Just a quick update before the blood sucking ૮₍ - ⤙ - ₎ა I thought I’d bring this fic back just in time for spooky season !! I’m definitely going to try to finish it by the end of October, but for now please enjoy this chapter <3

❤︎ Chapter 3: Fangs

Arlecchino had no trouble drinking in your pretty, doll-like appearance as you laid in the mountain of frilly blankets covering your bed. She thought you looked cuter than anyone she had ever seen with the way you were peering up at her through your long, dark lashes. It was taking all she had in her to not just pounce on you the moment she stepped through the threshold of your room.

You had giggled softly at her staring and if she thought you couldn’t get even cuter, she was mistaken. Her gaze followed your hand down to where it was patting the empty space beside you, and if you were insisting, then who was she to refuse? She easily slid into the bed beside you leaving you no personal space. She was oddly cold, you thought to yourself, maybe she just naturally ran cold… You paid that no mind though and instead you favored cuddling up to her to try to warm her up since you were feeling a bit bolder about initiating contact.. “Arle… You’re freezing.” A pout graced your lips and she simply shook her head at you. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about me, I’m perfectly fine as long as I have you warming me up.”

At her words you draped one of your legs around her own and nuzzled closer to her, letting your head rest gently on her chest. You hadn’t considered that the neckline of her slip plunged low on her chest, so when your cheek made contact with her bare skin, you felt your body heating up. Arlecchino felt it too because you heard a deep chuckle from within her throat as she ran her lithe fingers up and down your lower back. “Are you getting shy now? Cute.” Her tone wasn’t exactly mocking, but the way her voice lilted up at the end made it feel like she was trying to work you up.

“I bet you weren't shy when you were snooping through my belongings earlier.” Her tone darkened and your body went rigid at her words before you pushed yourself away from her. You stayed silent for a moment, not knowing what to say to defend yourself. You knew there was no defending yourself though, it was clearly wrong going through her possessions. “I-I…” You started, not sure how to continue. Your eyes were searching her own for any sign of warmth, but you were met with a face of indifference. She was incredibly hard to read, and it was making you nervous just how quick her demeanor could change.

“I’m sorry, I was just so curious about you, you were so secretive about certain things I wanted to know about you.” Your lip was quivering as you spoke, and Arlecchino stayed silent, seeingly contemplating her next move. “So you decided to invade my privacy, instead of asking me about myself?” Her voice wasn’t angry, but that’s what scared you more. You’d rather have her yell at you or be angry than whatever she was doing now. “You always dodged my questions, when I asked you why you went out at night you said it was business or errands, but I know that’s a lie.” You rambled on, starting to grow more nervous.

Arlecchino peered over at your shrinking form before grabbing your wrist, and bringing it to her lips. She pressed a soft, gentle kiss, completely contrasting the tense atmosphere between you two. “If I tell you, promise you won’t be scared?” Alarms were blaring in your mind, but you ignored them in favor of the woman before you. Your head was nodding on its own before you knew it and the other woman was on top of you in a second. Her arms caged you in under her, and one knee was slotted in between your thighs. Slowly, she leaned in, her lips barely grazing your sensitive neck. Her breath tickled you as she spoke, “I go out to hunt at night.” Confusion clouded your mind, why would she need to hide that? “You’re confused little doe? I hunt lost ones like you for their life source, blood.” Your heart was beating out of your chest now. Was she a murderer? Was she going to kill you? Was she just tricking you into thinking she cared this whole time? Your fear must have been present on your face because Arlecchino had taken it upon herself to soothe your nerves. She caressed your cheek gently, turning your head to face her once more, “I’m kidding. I don’t kill humans, unless they deserve it.” A wicked grin formed on her face and you were even more confused now.

“What are you talking about?” Your thoughts were swirling around in your head and you felt sick. “Have you ever heard of the myths of a vampire living in this very town?” She chuckled. You thought she must be pulling some sick prank on you, because vampires couldn’t actually exist. Right? “That’s absurd. Are you trying to tell me you’re a vampire?” Instead of answering you with words she answered with the fangs that seemed to appear out of nowhere within her mouth. The glint of white rendered you absolutely speechless, you felt you were going insane. You didn’t know if you found her 100 times more attractive, or if you wanted to scream and push her off of you, you were truly short circuiting. All you could do was stare.

“What’s on that pretty little mind of yours?” Her gloved hand cupped your cheek softly. Her actions completely betrayed the nature of the secret she had shared with you, and it eased your thoughts ever so slightly that she seemed just as gentle with you as she always has been. “Who’s Peruere?” You mumbled quietly, recalling the details of the journal you found. In the back of your mind you already knew the answer, but you wanted to hear her say it.

“Peruere is one with me. I parted with the name hundreds of years ago though.” She spoke of those hundreds of years ago as if it was just some distant memory, but it was truly hard to grasp how old she must be. “I know it’s a lot to take in, I wouldn’t want you to be frightened of me after this.” A sigh escaped her lips, her fangs barely peeking out past her top lip.

You were silent momentarily to contemplate what you wanted to say next. “I’m a little scared, but I know you won’t hurt me.” It was more of a question than a statement the way your voice wavered. You wanted to think she liked your presence in her life enough to not kill you. Arlecchino’s eyes softened at your voice and she nodded her head slightly. “You’ve captured my heart, darling. I wouldn’t dare hurt you, unless you asked.” Her voice lowered at the last part, her eyes trailing down to your bare neck. You furrowed your brows at her words until what she meant finally caught up to you. “I thought you only hunted animals?”

“I do, but your blood must be the sweetest of nectars. Your scent is almost intoxicating to me.” Her voice was thick with desire, and it seemed as if she was getting needy for a taste of you. “Would it hurt?” You couldn’t believe you were even considering letting her drink from you, but the way she looked right now was simply irresistible. Her blood red eyes were nearly glowing with desire, her cheeks were flushed, and the way she towered over you was making it harder to say no to her. “Only for a moment, but I could make it feel better…” She trailed off, alluding to your pleasure.

You squirmed underneath her, your body brushing up against hers. She felt almost feverish where your skin met, and you were bordering on the same feeling. After a moment of weighing your options, you locked eyes with hers and nodded slowly. Within a moment her gloved hand slithered up your cheek before settling back down on your chin. She sucked her teeth and for a moment you thought you dissatisfied her. “Use your words. I need you to say you want it.”

Your mouth parted, inviting her thumb to slip past your plump lips. “I want it, I want you.”

[skipper1331]

fan girl // Alexia Putellas

a/n: based off this request!

It was movie night at Alexia‘s, the girls seated around her living room as snacks and soft drinks were on the coffee table for everyone.

The girls had to decided to watch your new movie, all of them a big fan of your acting. Alongside you, big names like Margot Robbie and Ryan Reynolds - the movie was made to be a hit.

And Alexia had to admit that she watched every single one of your movies, most of the time more enjoying the view rather than the plot. It didn’t matter if she was the queen of football, she was madly crushing on you.

For once, Alexia wasn‘t getting Fan-girled but was Fan-girling herself. Something about you made her heart flutter, cheeks blushy and starstruck.

So, every time you appeared on screen, Alexia zoned out, comments from her friends falling to deaf ears, snacks long forgotten. She was completely in awe.

"That movie was mind blowing!" Claudia stated shocked after the movie had finished.

"That ending was very unexpected" Patri joined before the whole group talked about the movie. They discussed the ending, the plot, what they liked and didn‘t like, and the acting skills of each individual - simply everything.

-

A few weeks later, the call came that Alexia had to attend to an event, nothing knew for the Ballon D‘or winner you might think, but this event was different. Not necessarily from what would happen there but from the guests. Normally, some important people from the sports industry would be there, many media people or other important people in general - people Alexia knew or (dis)liked.

This time though, you would be there too. Alexia only knew this because she saw your instagram story - a window picture out of a plane, Barcelona marked as the destination - big headlines in the news.

In the following days, Alexia acted nervous and excited, sights you didn‘t see often. Mapi made fun of her because of that, even though she could understand Ale‘s excitement - who wouldn’t be excited to meet you?

-

"How do I look?" Alexia asked Mapi and Ingrid.

Both of them had agreed to help the Barcelona captain get ready as everything had to be perfect - perfect to meet you. She wanted to talk to you - that might be her only chance to ever talk to you, she didn‘t want to ruin that. She had to be subtle about approaching you yet attentive, respectful and kind. She couldn’t be some weird obsessed fan, she had to be herself - Alexia.

"Just be yourself" Mapi stated when Ale couldn’t stop rambling about you. What would you be wearing? How should she start a conversation? Would there even be an opportunity to talk to you? Are you nice? You probably are, no bad words about you in the world - everybody always talking highly of you.

"How am I supposed to be myself?! She‘s literally a Hollywood star!" Alexia defended herself. As if it was so easy to be herself.

"María is right, though" Ingrid added, "Ale, you‘re not just anyone, who knows maybe she‘s a football fan herself. Just start the conversation casually, be nice, ask her about her interests and everything should be fine" the Norse explained, trying to ease the Catalonians mind.

Alexia wasn‘t just anyone, she was a Barcelona player, World Cup winner, 2x Ballon D‘or winner and many other trophies winner, but most importantly, she was human. Her trophies didn‘t defy her as a person - she wasn’t arrogant or bragging about her achievements, instead she was a friendly, caring and supportive friend.

"Thank you"

-

Alexia attended the event, more nervous than usually.

She talked to the people she had to, conversations about football or other business stuff or talked to some people who she actually enjoyed talking to.

Yet all evening, she kept looking for you, not seeing you anywhere which disappointed her. She was looking forward to see you, for once not on tv.

When she went to the bar, ordering a drink, she had already lost hope, until she tensed up.

"Hola la reina" a voice beside her greeted, accent thick.

Tilting her head, she saw the gorgeous smile of you, "hi" she greeted, smiling shyly.

You had referred to her as la Reina.

"I have to admit, I’m a bit disappointed that I was only able to talk to you now" you said, taking a sip of your drink. Everything seemed so effortless when you did it.

"I‘m Y/N Y/L/N, big fan"

Shaking your hand, she replied "Alexia Putellas"

After that the conversation came floating by with an ease, all nervousness from the both of you washed away.

Alexia wasn‘t the only fan girl here, you fan-girled about her just as much, raised as an Barcelona fan since you were a little girl.

All night, you continued flirting with each other, discovering same interests and discussing topics from a-z, also not talking to anyone else but each other. It felt easy to talk to Alexia, no judgement at all as she listened to everything you had to say. She couldn’t care less if it was a random fact, even though you had seemingly very much of them (which she secretly absolutely adored) or if it was your opinion on whatever. She enjoyed hearing you talk, your opinions and points of view well explained.

At some point during the night, she asked "So, you‘re an football fan?"

"Oh yes, absolutely"

"Favorite club?"

"Real Madrid, obviously" you joked, her reaction hilarious - wide eyes, open mouth, look of disgust on her features.

"I‘m joking!" you laughed, "I’m a culer through and through"

"You almost gave me an heart attack!" she hit your arm playfully, continuing to talk about football. This time is was you who listened. The sound of Alexias voice angelic.

You loved how passionate she talked about her profession and how serious she got when she analyzed something, she was the perfect mixture of professionalism and passion - something you admired.

When the night came to an end, you walked her outside, waiting for her taxi to arrive.

"It was nice meeting you, la reina" you beamed, squeezing her hand as you had held it on the way out, so she wouldn’t get lost.

Girls thing.

"Likewise"

Looking at one another with googly eyes, no one realized that the taxi had arrived until the driver honked, bringing you back to earth.

"I would like to see you again, sometime?" you shifted nervously on your feet, eyes darting across her features. She was breathtaking.

"Maybe at the match next weekend?" Alexia didn’t expect you to say yes with your busy schedule and new upcoming projects but she tried it anyways. She really wanted to see you again.

"I will be there"

The midfielder‘s face lit up, the widest smile on her face, eyes sparkling as her heart jumped around happily.

"Good night, la reina and stay safe" you pressed your lips on the barcelona players cheek before you walked back inside with shaking hands. You had just kissed the famous Alexia Putellas’ cheek and it felt good!

Alexia on the other hand had crimson red cheeks, was breathing heavily as she touched completely dazed the spot were your lips had been seconds ago.

It seemed like you would stay for another few days in Barcelona. This wasn‘t the end. Maybe, for once, you wouldn't be playing a role in a romance film, but would be living your very own romance.

[whoevenismaria]

not sure why h**** p**** was trending earlier but im going to do the funiest fucking thing, i'll show you as soon as it's done

[pedriache]

awkward!arda x awkward!reader and they’re just both so awkward that it makes them laugh and it’s just eeeeuuuuugggghhhhh TOOTH. ROT.

Heavy - Arda Güler.

Pairing: Arda Güler x Fem!Reader

Summary: After an awkward moment at the beach during a join family vacation with yours and Arda’s, you retreat back to your bedroom in embarrassment. But when someone knocks on your door, the last thing you expected to come out of it was a kiss.

Word count: 866

Disclaimer/s: cursing, kissing, nothing but fluff!

A/N: Based on ‘Heavy’ By The Marías !

Face hot and breathing ragged, you slam the door behind you. Memories of the events that happened only ten minutes prior plaguing your mind.

“No, no, it’s okay! I’m fine!” You rambled out, body still limp in his arms. You’d stumbled over your own two feet and face planted right onto the ground.

Arda, with his quick reflexes, he was already by your side, helping you up. “Are you okay?” He’d already asked you nearly four times by now.

Your face burned red as you’d started up at him, forgetting how close you two were. Faces inches apart, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

“Sweetie, are you alright?!” Your mother gasped from somewhere behind you, causing you both to scramble upwards and apart from each other.

Clicking the lock on your door, you rub a hand over your face. What the hell. Scrambling toward the bed, you face plant onto the pillow, screaming into it.

Why were you such a loser?

Three gentle knocks on the door snapped you from your self hatred. “Leave me alone!” You yell out.

The voice that calls out your name from the other side of the door, has you even further on edge. “Can you just open, uhm, open the door.. please?”

You slowly but surely tug yourself off the bed, inching your way toward the door. Biting down on your inner cheek, you let out of a huff of breath, opening the door just wide enough for your face to fit between.

Arda stands there, hands in his pockets with a tight lipped smile. He’s rocking back and forth from his heels to his toes. “The.. whole? Door?”

Oh. Right.

Opening it wider, you clear your throat. “Right, sorry.”

It’s quiet. Awkward. It’s tense..

“Uhm..” Arda starts slowly, “just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You give him your most reassuring face, although you know very well it came off as a grimace. “I’m completely fine, don’t worry! Thank’s, though!”

Another uncomfortable pause.

Then another.

“Do you want to go get ice cream?” Arda blurts out, cringing at the way he spoke.

You feel your cheeks burn brighter, “yes!” Too quick. That was too fast.

The teenager smiles, “okay! Do you want to go now, or..”

You make sure to wait a little bit before nodding, “yeah, just let me put on some shoes, uh.. You can come in..” Stepping aside, you give him the space to walk into the room.

Arda accepts, taking hesitant steps inside. He stands by the door after it’s shut, shuffling on his feet like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

Quickly slipping into your shoes, you grab your purse and make your way back over to him. “Ready.” He opens the door for you, letting you walk out first. Cute.

“I saw a cool parlor down the street, figured we could go there?” He was trying to make small talk, the slight waver in his voice showing just how nervous you made him.

You smile at the bricks on the ground, “sounds good to me.” You weren’t the only one nervous here, although neither of you could set your own awkwardness aside long enough to notice the others was just as prevalent.

The rest of the walk was quiet, but surprisingly sweet. Arda would point out a few cool shops, and you’d gasp at every stray animal you saw.

Finally arriving at the ice cream parlor, you ordered your flavors. You chose strawberry, he with vanilla. In a moment of amusement, you grin. “Wow, so you really are vanilla then?”

It was a dumb joke. A lame, boring, dad joke. But he laughs. His head tipping back and his eyes crinkling at the sides. Oh, you are so screwed.

“You know, i’m not as vanilla as you’d imagine.” He retorts as you two make your way back outside to the seating area.

Eyebrow quirked in curiosity, you hum. “Oh? Is that so? What, have you..” feigning a gasp, you clutch your hand over your heart, “drank? At your big age?”

Arda grins down at you, his eyes twinkling with humor. “A sip or two.”

The longer you spent with him, the more you both grew comfortable with each other. He got your humor, laughed at your stupid jokes, he was perfect.

“Oh you got a little..” Arda trails off, using his finger to wipe away a small smudge of pink on the side of your lips.

Breath hitched in your throat, you stare at him. He’s so close, his vanilla scented breath fanning your face. Arda swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

He whispers your name, soft and sweet, just like him. “Can I—“ His eyes flicker to your lips, then back to you.

“Yes!” You squeak out, nodding your head.

Without needing to say another word, his lips are on yours. They are smooth, gentle against your own. You almost forget to breathe as your eyes flutter shut.

Only pulling away when you realize you needed air, you find that he’s smiling. You’d never seen that smile before. You know for certain then, you’ll never love someone the way you will love him.

DTS , @halfwayhearted & @zanxi

And remember, if you ever want tagged in specific or all things I publish, lmk! ^_^

[xcherryerim]

˖⁺ ⊹୨ Fogged up ୧⊹ ⁺˖

Derek with glasses x gn!reader (wc: 3k)

I might make it wonderful for once. In my life but nothing's quite like it was. Surprised something inside me is a blur. Hindsight I should've lifted my eyes — Blur by The marías

SMUT ONE SHOT | MDNI | +18

WARNING: Sexual tension | friends with benefits | thigh riding | handjob | penetration | in the middle of sex love confession and rambles | Porn with plot | Not proofread (literally did not revised this once so, shitty probably) | no use of y/n. | quicky | Needy Derek for life!

credits for the derek with glasses edit: strwbrryhutch

Backstory: In a sudden visit to your best friend's house, you stepped inside, immediately taking notice of something different, Derek was wearing glasses, a sight you had not seen since your freshman year in college. The sight of him wearing glasses immediately brought back a flood of memories of the old Derek.

Today was a drag, and what does a bored person do? Meddle in someone's business just for shits and giggles.

You summoned your driver, instructing him to take you straight to Derek's mansion. Unsolicited visits were common between you two, it never phased him or you, especially if it meant fucking his brains out. 

Stepping into the white palace, you couldn't help but admire the gaudy paintings adorning the walls. The colors and patterns were disgusting and loud to the eye, a familiar sight at that. It was, truly…Derek. 

You strutted in, hands swaying rhythmically, plotting ways to tease the man, but upon entering his office, surprise struck: Derek, the epitome of irresponsibility, was actually working? And to top it off, he had the audacity to wear glasses.

A soft snicker escaped your lips, but before you could voice your thoughts, Derek flipped you off, his gaze still glued to his laptop. "Fuck off." Derek's voice was rough, weary, and irritated.

"Hello to you too, prick." You retorted, lowering his raised finger before leaning closer to his desk, curious at this newish side of him. "What's up?" 

"I need to write an email to some asshole I don't care about." He sighed.

"Isn't your secretary the one who's supposed to handle that?" You questioned, bewildered by his predicament. You snatched his vape, blowing the air back at him in a show of defiance.

"Yeah, but she’s on a break because she just popped out a kid or something."

"Derek! You knocked up your secretary?!"

"What?! No," he stuttered, backtracking. "I haven't— never mind." Derek reclaimed his mint-colored e-cigarette, taking a long drag before exhaling the smoky air from his plump lips. 

"Let me see your masterpiece." Inclining beside him, you scrutinized the Word document. Your eyes widened in amusement as you saw only three meek words. 

"Motherfucker, you wrote three words. You're like SpongeBob in that meme, taking forever to write, 'The.' "

Derek's face flushed bright red as he realized how embarrassing this situation had become. His arrogance and self-assuredness crumbled momentarily as he was caught in such a vulnerable state. A small whimper escaped his lips, but he quickly regained his composure. “What does that even mean? You’re fucking weird.” He muttered, trying to salvage his pride. 

"Whatever." You waved your hand as if to vanish the conversation, then you asked, "Why the glasses, though?" 

"My contacts were drying the fuck out of my eyes from overuse, so the eye doctor or whatever, suggested I wear these more often." Derek explained, mumbling to himself, trying to decide what next words to write.

God," you grinned, your eyes sparkling with nostalgia. "I haven't seen you wear those glasses since we were freshmen.”

“Don’t fucking remind me.” Derek groaned, tugging at his face, a tic indicative of his discomfort.

“You were such a dork.” Laughter escaped you, and you idly ran your finger along the rim of his dark blue sleeve, the material smooth and luxurious.

"Don't you have anything better to do than bothering me?!" His squinty eyes held a hint of annoyance.

“Honestly? no, not really.” You replied nonchalantly, moving behind the chair to get close to him. Your index finger lightly tapped the temples of his spectacles, sporting a distinctive animal print. If he wasn’t wearing the glasses, you would mistake them for an old lady's pair. 

“Does it look like a give a fuck? Because I don’t.” Derek mocked, standing tall. “Now, go do something while I finish this dumbass fucking email.” Derek orders, typing on his laptop as he bit his lip, forcing himself to concentrate on the task at hand. 

Tilting your head, you eyed the man with sun-bleached locks, in dire need of root touch-ups. It was like an impromptu trip down memory lane to the college library, where the studious Derek sat.

His square-rimmed glasses, unkempt hair, and outfit fit for Mister Rogers made him appear as a librarian in disguise, until you noticed the dumbass was wearing his student ID like a first grader. Despite looking like a librarian, there was something charming and endearing about his appearance. You couldn't help but fantasize about seducing him, pinning him against the nearest wall, and making him surrender to you.

Fate, however, took its time. Instead, a deep friendship between you and Derek developed. As time passed, you watched him transform into the man he is today. The memory of that encounter lingered in your mind, like a sweet, comforting scent, as you observed him in the present moment.

You chuckled to yourself as you reflected on the past, watching Derek in the present moment. A thought suddenly crossed your mind: "How would my younger self react if I said that Derek and I would actually become friends with benefits?"

That particular day was indelibly etched in your memory. It was Mickey's birthday, and Derek, intoxicated by merriment and possibly something stronger, seized your hand amidst Mickey's rambling speech. He led you to Mickey's room, and once the door closed, his unsteady form collided with yours. His mouth found your lips, leaving a trail of wet kisses. He proceeded by telling his desire to fuck you in that black outfit you were wearing at the party. From that night on, things had remained the same yet shifted in the shadows, with a newfound intimacy between the two of you.

The flood of memories overwhelmed you, your mind spinning. Your gaze settled on Derek, who appeared perplexed and agitated. 

“What are you looking at? Why are you still—“ 

Invading his space as you sat on his thigh, you prompted a sharp intake of breath from him. The lenses of his glasses misted over, a testament to the rapidity of Derek's breathing. 

He swallowed hard, trying to regain control. “Really, right now? When I'm busy? I swear you always pick the worst time on purpose. Fucking brat.” 

His fingers gripped the edge of his desk, knuckles turning white as he struggled to focus on anything other than the sensation of your body on his thigh. His eyes scanned your body, taking in your every curve and movement. 

“Shut the fuck up.” You growled, tugging at his hair to emphasize your point, garnering a lustful rumble from his lips. "You know you love it." Moving your hips, you teased him, causing his head to roll back, a smirk spreading across his face.

“And if you wanna talk about brats, I suggest taking a look in the mirror.” 

“Pfff.” Derek muttered, hands trying to remove his glasses before you stopped him. “What?!” He asked, clearly annoyed.

“Keep them.” You said, more than a demand than a request. 

“What, why? I look goofy as shit.” Derek huffed, giving you a look that screamed annoyance.

A quiet moan slipped from Derek's lips as your hands roamed over the fabric, his excitement growing more apparent. His voice came out muffled, "H-how am I supposed to fuck you with these glasses on?"

"You'll figure it out," you replied playfully, slowly tugging the glasses down his nose. The intoxicating scent of his desire permeated the air.

In a swift motion, you dominated his body, your lips hungrily seeking his. Derek, still fumbling to discard his glasses due to the steamy makeout session, met your demanding grip.

Grabbing his wrist, you halted his attempts to remove them. After enduring his persistent complaints, he finally relented, accepting your terms – if he wanted to be fucked, he'd have to keep the glasses on for you.

“Great, now I can’t see shit.” Derek grumbled as you created some distance between you two.

"Exactly," you chimed, a mischievous glint in your eye.

"Hey, if you're into that, we could always try a literal blindfold. We've done it before, haven't we?”

"True, but it's not the same, Derek." You replied, your warm hands caressing the cold zipper of his pants. Slowly, you pulled it down, exposing his cheetah-print boxers.

“You look hot with glasses, you know? I didn't think I'd miss such a small detail, but... I guess I did." You shrugged, a wistful smile playing on your lips.

Derek caught your expression, picking up on the bittersweet nostalgia that seemed to surround you.

"Wait, so you're implying that you found me attractive back in college?" Derek asked, seeking validation for his former self more than genuine inquiry.

"Come on, you dress like a mess and people still think you're hot. A pair of glasses isn't going to change that." You teased, followed by a soft sigh. "But yeah, I did have a thing for you back then. I actually had a little crush on you."

Derek's eyes widened, the glasses making them appear even larger and more vibrant, perfectly complementing the blush that crept across his tanned skin. You see his Adam's apple bob up and down as he gulps hard, his lips quivering as he struggles to find the right words. It's clear he's desperate to say something, anything, but he remains tongue-tied.

Finally, he places his hands on you, guiding your body to grind against his neglected leg. "So... you're not saying anything?" Your voice carries a delicate mix of playfulness and uncertainty. You can't help but wonder if you've crossed a line by being so honest, or if you're just setting yourself up for rejection.

Those fears race through your mind, but you try to mask them with a lighthearted tone. You can't help but feel exposed, vulnerable, as you wait for his response.

"I don't know what to say," Derek stumbled over his words, his hands shaking as they gripped your hips. "I've had feelings for you since day one, but I never felt good enough for you. So finding out you've liked me all this time... it makes me feel fucking pathetic."

His breathing grew ragged, heart pounding against his chest, rendered speechless by the vulnerability of his confession and the intense burn coursing through him from your touch.

"You're still pathetic," you whispered, lips trailing along his neck, fingers deftly freeing his straining erection from his boxers. "But you're my pathetic."

The declaration hung in the air, charged with a mix of affection and desire. Derek's entire being was consumed by the sensation of your touch, the weight of your words, leaving him utterly at your mercy.

"Oh, fuck," Derek whimpered, his back arching in response to your kisses and nibbles along his neck. Your fingers traced his veins, adding to the sensory overload caused by the foggy glasses.

"I have to finish writing this email before five," he insisted, biting his lip to stifle any further cries.

"So what? I'm just here to help. You can still write your email without being too distracted," you replied mischievously, guiding his trembling hands back to the keyboard.

Annoyed but complying, Derek attempted to type as your hand began to stroke him. His fingers moved clumsily across the keys, resulting in a disjointed and sloppy email. He grunted, struggling to focus on the task at hand and the intense sensations consuming him.

"You're making this more difficult than it needs to be," he growled, his voice dripping with desire.

"That's my favorite part," you replied with a wicked grin, increasing the tempo of your strokes. Your fingers teased the tip each time they reached the top, driving Derek wild with pleasure.

As he cursed under his breath, you pressed your hips against his leg once more, making his head roll back in ecstasy. 

Derek let out a guttural hiss, clenching his jaw to suppress the urge to cry out in pleasure. His body tense, veins popping in his neck as he fought to maintain control.

"Oh Derek, we're just getting started," you teased. "Come on baby, finish that email for me so we can have some real fun."

“Ugh! I’m going to kill you... eventually, once I’m done with this.” Derek's eyes were twitching as he tried to focus on the screen, those glasses now a nuisance amidst his stress. 

"You know you'd miss me terribly if I wasn't around to pester you all the time, you bitch," you whispered in his ear, your breath hot against his skin.

Derek's body shook, barely able to contain thirst, the overwhelming sensations threatening to push him past the point of no return. His whiny, desperate pleas fell on deaf ears as you dismissed his empty threats.

"Let me take a look at what you've got so far," you insisted, turning your head slightly to scan the jumbled words on the screen. "C'mon Derek, I won't let you finish until you've written something actually decent."

Derek's eyes widened in shock as he realized the gibberish he'd been typing, which only added to his frustration. He growled, his grip on the keyboard tightening as his thrusts into your hand became more forceful, bordering on desperate.

With great effort, he managed to string together a few coherent sentences, his arousal and irritation bleeding into every word. His breaths came in ragged gasps, heart pounding, as he fought to focus on the task at hand.

Finally, Derek declared he was done, but instead of relief, you intensified your assault on his aching shaft and thigh, teasing him mercilessly as you slowly read the email aloud.

"Wow, looks like you really do need to pay people to do your work for you," you mumbled with a light chuckle.

Derek's face flushed a deep crimson, his skin burning with a mix of embarrassment and pure, raw desire. "Fuck you, you're not helping," he spat, his voice strained with longing.

Despite his determination to stay composed, the relentless teasing combined with the foggy glasses and your skilled hand on his length pushed Derek closer and closer to the end. His eyes rolled back, overwhelmed by the intense sensations surging through his body.

"Please, just fuck me," he whimpered, the words barely audible as he struggled to contain his desperation.

Unable to resist his pleading, puppy-dog eyes, you swiftly straddled him, guiding his shaft to your waiting sex.

A thrill of anticipation ran through him, the feeling of your warmth surrounding him almost driving him over the edge. Derek's grip on your waist tightened as his cockhead teased your entrance. The anticipation was maddening, and he could feel his control slipping with each passing second.

"Please, just take me." His voice was a hoarse whisper, desperation thick in every word. He was at your mercy, the heat and wetness around his tip driving him wild.

“You’re so fucking impatient.” You growled, as you slowly sank into him, taking all of him inside you. 

Derek let out a loud cry, his body arching up off the chair as you enveloped him. The feeling was intense, and he clutched at you, his nails digging into your skin.

He was at your mercy, his body shuddering as you took your time with him, savoring the feeling of being so completely inside you. His mouth opened, but no words came out, the sensation too overwhelming to form even a coherent thought.

His glasses, still fogged, only added to the sensory overload, the world outside blurring as all he could focus on was the way you moved on him.

Each inch inside you was a gift, a blessing, and he was lost in the feeling of possessing you, even for a moment.

“Well you being teasing me all fucking night.” Derek replied back in between ragged breaths 

Derek's breathing grew more erratic, the wish to claim you, to be inside you, to taste you, to possess you, all-consuming. "Fuck, just... ride me."

He gripped your waist, his body arching off the chair, desperate for more. His heart raced, and he could barely breathe as he awaited your next move.

“Someone really needs to teach you fucking patience.” You replied moving your body against his, with each word using more force than the last, the harsh sound of skin against skin echoing in the room of the mansion. 

Derek's moans grew louder, each word you spoke followed by a groan, his body bucking against you, desperate for more.

“So fucking tight." Derek cried, his voice heavy with lust. He couldn't help but buck his waist, trying to take you deeper, leaving faint crescents in their wake. "Fuck... I need to fill you up." He gritted out. The crave to mark you, overwhelming him. His glasses, still mist over, served only as a lens to the whirlwind of lust consuming him. 

“Till I'm dripping with your cum Derek.” You answered, nibbling in his ear. Derek grabbed your ass, guiding it and bouncing it up and down around his length. 

"I'm not gonna- I’m not going to last much longer." He gasped out, his voice thick with lust, the words barely coherent as he struggled to maintain control.

The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, their movements growing more urgent, more primal. Derek's glasses clouded, his vision blurred, the only thing that mattered was the feeling of possessing you, the way your body fit around him, the way you rode him.

He was powerless against the tide of lust that washed over him, the line between desire and need blurring as he teetered on the brink.

“Me neither.” You replied, your body jumping above his as you took him in and out. 

Derek's body tensed, the scent of your arousal filling his nostrils, driving him further into the abyss. "Baby, I'm... I'm gonna..."

His voice hitched, the warning barely out before a hot spurt of cum filled you, the orgasm tearing through him like a tidal wave. His grip on your tightened, his nails digging in as he shuddered, each spurt a testament to his lust.

You soon reach your orgasm after, your tight walls milking him dry. 

The world spun around him, the fogged glasses only adding to the dizzying sensation. He was left panting, his body spent, the aftershocks of the orgasm coursing through him as he tried to regain his breath.

Derek's eyelids fluttered, and he leaned his head back against the chair, the realization that he'd just been completely dominated, sinking in.

The nepo baby, the spoiled son of the president, had been brought to his knees by his closest friend. It was both humiliating and exhilarating, an experience he knew he wouldn't forget.

He whispered, nipping gently. "You win, brat." 

Thank you for taking the time to read my work! If you're specifically interested in my explicit content, be sure to follow me on @xxxcherryerim, where I'll be reblogging my work from there. Alternatively, you could join my taglist

tags 🍒: @wemnui @freak-accident419 @joshfutturman

@sleepyhutcherson @h3len1602

[matchalovertrait]

Crazy how it's been the same for a year 😆

Anyway, I switched to Family Echo cuz it's easier on my brain! Below you'll find a mini ramble about the names I chose. You might be interested if you're a fellow name nerd LOL:

I don't think I ever gave Ángel a middle name! I imagine it'd be something similar to "Erick", so now he's Ángel Federico Alegría.

Erick -> Eric -> Federico Yeah, that works. And it means "peaceful ruler." It checks out.

Dulce has always been Dulce Ynez Alegría. Ynez is Noemí's mother's name. However, now I'm obsessed with the idea of Dulce having a long and "virtuous" name, so she's now Dulce María Ynez Alegría. "Dulce María" is a common name pairing in Mexico.

Soooo now we got:

Ángel: Has biblical significance + related to a dessert (angel food cake) Federico: Means "peaceful ruler" + honors Erick Dulce: Means "sweet" (related to desserts) María: Has biblical significance (the Virgin Mary) Ynez: Means "pure" + honors Noemí's mother ....and of course, Alegría means "joy" hehe

All super relevant cuz Noemí is a religious baker :o

[respectthepetty]

What are some of your favorite novelas, Petty? I grew up loving them too and personally I will ALWAYSSS show up for anything Fernando Colunga is in!

Anon, I'm not giving you some of my favorites. No. I'm giving you my favorite - If you know this bitch (affectionate and derogatory), you KNOW where this is going!

For all the BL people, this is why @italianpersonwithashippersheart, @lukaherehelp, and I are having no qualms about Twins or Playboyy.

Telenovelas, soap operas, y lakorns have trained us well for these shenanigans and hijinks.

Why y'all can't remember twenty-two people's names is beyond me, but I had them down the first episode.

Why y'all don't like the tonal whiplash is odd to me because for me, ten minutes on one couple is TOO MUCH TIME. Six minutes, TOP, and move on to the next one.

Someone getting stabbed in one scene then the next scene being someone celebrating at a birthday party is the way I like my shows, and don't let that person be getting stabbed AT that birthday party because that is my bread and butter.

Oh, and TWINS!

My favorite show includes all of these fine points, and it's the 1998 Mexican telenovela called

La usurpadora

Somewhere in fictional hell, Soraya Montenegro from María la del Barrio is pissed as fuck.

The plot: Paola is a rich bitch and wants to leave her husband for her evil lover but can't figure out how.

¡Sorpresa, cabrona! She meets a worker who looks just like her while on vacation or some shit.

Paulina is the other woman and she is too poor to contour. Therefore, rich bitch Paola convinces kind and caring Paulina to be her stand-in. Paola tells Paulina she will live the best life and be rich, while Paola can be free. It's a win-win.

¡MENTIRAS!

Paulina refuses! So Paola blackmails her into doing it, and with her mother dead, her fiance gone, and no job (since she was fired as part of Paola's blackmailing scheme), Paulina is forced to take the offer. This is like episode 2 out of 102.

In the next 100 episodes, we get forty-five other characters who are all important to the plot, amnesia, cheating, murder attempts, Paola pretending to be paralyzed, Paulina GOES TO PRISON, someone discovers they are actually twins (no duh!), and a crap ton of more drama.

Oh, and the car crash!

But God got Paulina, so she good. Even in the sequel when she had cancer, pero no, she was just pregnant.

The show is based on a 1971 Venezuelan telenovela that was adapted from the book La Intrusa, and has since had several remakes. One was in 2019, which made Paulina Colombian (or was she always Colombian?), and A MUSICAL THIS YEAR!

It holds a 96% rating on Rotten Tomatoes because the people know this was a 🎁🎁🎁 from God, and it is not up for debate because it featured men dancing around singing Celia Cruz's "La vida es un carnaval" y Selena's "Bidi Bidi Bom Bom." This movie is the moment.

The lead is Cuban actress Isabella Castillo Díaz who played in America and México's co-produced telenovela ¿Quién es quién?, which is basically the boy version of La usurpadora because of the twins plot. Do you see the theme?

But back to the musical, which also features Drag Race superstar, Valentina. If you know this bitch (affectionate and derogatory), you KNOW!

The 1998 version and musical both embrace the camp of it all. The music in the original 1998 version was peak telenovela, and even if you don't speak Spanish, readers, just watch the first minute of this video. I promise you it will be worth it, and it will give you three perfect examples of the *vibes* I'm always rambling about.

So, yeah, Anon, I hope this explains a lot of about my taste in BLs. I'm here for a show, not the show. Soraya understands.