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#most of the jokes didn't quite land for me
funforahermit · 7 months
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I know I'm several years late, but... why didn't they make Black Widow a good movie? 🥺
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juleswritesstuff · 4 months
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Starving
Basically, just Theo being the munch that he is.
theodore nott x fem!reader
warnings: smut
Enjoy💗
You had always hated Herbology with a deep passion.
Not the plants per se, those were rather fascinating to observe, but did they really need to have such a vast variety of species ? Was it actually necessary ?
Apparently it was, or Mrs Sprout wouldn't have given you a whole 600 words essay to write on every type of mandrake known to man.
Those screaming little things got on your nerves, and you could barely understand what the professor was talking about while tending to them. Hence, you were finding it extremely difficult to complete that paper.
The door of your dorm room suddenly opened and you had to restrain a curse from slipping through gritted teeth.
You had really hoped to not get interrupted.
Apparently your prayers weren't heard.
“You busy, dolcezza ?” (sweetie)
A more than familiar voice reached your ears. You lifted your eyes from your paper and they landed on none other than Theodore Nott, who was standing right in front of your door, now closed again, with a faint smirk plastered on his face. 
You rolled your eyes. You knew that little grin all too well.
“Kind of, yeah” you replied, your attention going back to the paper in front of you as you started scribbling again with your quill “Aren't you ? Have you already finished your essay ?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Just turned it in, so I have some time to kill” he said with that cocky attitude of his.
Infuriating and charming at the same time, truly unfair.
“Good for you, then. I don't, so if you could leave me to it, it would be much appreciated” you said as a forced smile curved your lips.
“Oh, come on. You don't even have a little time ? Per me ?” he asked, tilting his head slightly to the side with the most innocent expression he could master. (For me ?)
Which didn't work because his eyes screamed trouble.
Theo looked like an angel with his brown hair curled in soft locks and eyes as blue as the ocean, although dead and emotionless looking.
Actually, he was the devil in disguise. Especially when he acted all coy like this.
“No Theo, I really don't have time for your little antics today” you said huffing.
‘His little antics’ being eating you out till tears rolled down your cheeks and your mascara was smudged and unsalvageable. 
You and Theo were ‘friends’. You got along just fine, you talked, and you bickered like there was no tomorrow. It was part of your friendship, the teasing, the little harmless jokes. It was routine for the two of you.
What was also routine was the flirting. 
Shameless and obvious flirting.
You never thought it would lead anywhere. You were so used to the little Italian endearments he gave you and the ever present smirk on his lips that you didn't really think anything of it.
Until one night, after one of the biggest parties that Slytherin had ever thrown, you ended up in his bed, with him between your legs eating you out like his life depended on it.
You didn't even know how you found yourself in that situation, you just knew that you hadn't minded one bit.
You ended up with shaky legs and a dizzy brain just by his tongue alone.
Saying that you didn't mind it would've been an understatement.
The day after was awkward as hell, but you both were too direct and honest to not deal with the weird atmosphere immediately.
So you decided to add some…privileges to your relationship. 
You discovered Theo had quite an oral fixation. 
He needed to keep his mouth occupied with something.
Cigarettes were a great way to keep his mouth busy, but they were extremely damaging for his health.
You didn't mean to make him stop smoking, you knew it would've been basically impossible, and, if you had to be completely honest with yourself, he looked so damn hot with those death traps between his lips, but you wanted to at least try to reduce the amount of nicotine that went into his body.
And what better way than to bribe him with the second thing he loved the most in the world ?
Eating you out seemed to be his favorite hobby.
Anytime he felt the need to light one cigarette more than necessary he came to you, with that sinful smirk on his lips and the hottest ‘fuck me’ eyes he could master.
And who were you to say no ? 
You had proposed the deal in the first place.
Plus, he was amazing at it too. The way his tongue worked on your cunt definitely felt like ascending to heaven.
But now you really didn't have the time.
“I'm not here because I feel like smoking, Y/n” he said walking up to you and stopping in front of the desk, leaning forward a little as he supported his weight with his hands on the table. 
You made the mistake of lifting your eyes from the parchment and locking them with his. His gaze was magnetic. Once those pools of stormy sea caught you, you couldn't escape.
“Then why are you here ?” you asked, raising your eyebrows.
“Cause I'm starving, bambolina” he uttered with the calmest and most unaffected tone in his voice. (babydoll)
You narrowed your eyes.
“Then you should be in the kitchen to solve that little problem, don't you think ?” you asked rhetorically, eyes going back to focus on the parchment in front of you.
You heard him scoff, and suddenly he was leaning so much closer.
Your head was still hung low, trying to write that damn essay, but his presence was distracting as hell and you couldn't help but shiver when he leaned to whisper in your ear.
“You're right, that would be the perfect solution if I was hungry for food” he stopped and you could feel the teasing smile plastered on his face.
“But all I'm craving is you and that pretty little cunt of yours, so I don't think the kitchen elves could really help me with that”
You wished you could say his words didn't affect you, you really wished.
But the sudden warmth on your cheeks and the unconscious clench of your legs told another story.
You really didn't have time for this, but your body was craving him and his touch like crazy, and you weren't sure you would've been able to focus if you didn't feel his tongue working its wonders on you.
So you sighed and pushed the chair you were sitting on a bit farther away from the desk, enough to take your knickers off and throw them somewhere behind you, then you sat back, your skirt still covering you up until your mid thighs.
His eyes darkened with lust.
“Make it quick, I have an essay to finish” you said, faking indifference.
On the inside you were burning alive.
“Quick ? It's like you don't know me at all, dolcezza” he said with a scoff as he sank to his knees, crawling until he was right in front of you.
His gaze locked in yours as his hands made contact with the bare skin of your legs, caressing them gently, tenderly.
“I'll take my sweet time with you. Ora fai la brava and open those gorgeous legs for me” you hated how fast you complied, but with the way he was looking at you you really couldn’t help yourself. (Now be good) 
He lifted your skirt and he leaned forward.
As soon as his tongue made contact with your folds you melted.
You choked out a whimper, and you could feel him smirk right against your groin.
"Wipe that grin off your face, Nott, I'm only -ah fuck, I'm only doing it because you begged me” you said as he kept lapping at your core with his tongue, wrapping his lips around your clit to give it a gentle suck.
The moan that rippled out of you was almost pornographic.
“Piccola bugiarda, you know that's not true. You're doing it because you want it too” he moved his mouth from your cunt to your thighs, giving feather light kisses on the sensitive skin. (Little liar)
“You're so wet, you didn't think I would notice ?” he asked with that fucking cocky attitude that made you go crazy.
“Shut up and put that mouth to a better use” you said, but the bite in your voice was definitely toned down by the urgency and neediness of having his mouth back where you needed him the most.
His head tilted to the side as he leaned back just the tiniest bit.
“What's with the attitude, uh ?”
“No, no, no, -shit Theo. Come back here” you said, almost whining.
He was too far, and you needed him.
You needed him closer, way fucking closer.
“E come si dice ?” he teased, his eyes were dark and fogged up by lust and hunger. (And what do you say ?)
“Fuck, why do you always want me to beg ?” you asked, defeated. He leaned forward again, his breath hovering right above the tender skin as you clenched around nothing, feeling the loss of his tongue.
“Because it's fun, I love it when you beg me with that sweet mouth of yours. Plus I like seeing you flustered” he said as he started to kiss every inch and nook of your most sensitive area, avoiding where you really wanted him to.
You wanted to curse so bad, but you knew that was not what he wanted, what he needed.
“Theo -fuck. Please Theo, just touch me. Please” you surrendered, your voice whiny and broken, until a melody of moans and whimpers started to ripple out of your lips as soon as his mouth met your folds again.
And this time he didn’t stop.
He lapped at your juices like a starved man enjoying his meal for the first time in days.
He licked, and sucked, and kissed every centimeter, every inch of tender skin like he was born to do that.
Your hands buried in his soft brown locks and you tugged at them unconsciously after a particularly good roll of his tongue made you see stars.
“Cazzo, se continui così verrò nei pantaloni porca puttana” he said, hissing. His mouth kept working wonders on your cunt, his groans creating delicious vibrations on your clit. (Fuck, if you keep this up I'll come in my pants, holy shit)
“Ancora” he said between ravenous licks and delicate, teasing sucks, guttural moans leaving his lips. (Again)
“What ?” you asked, lost in pleasure. Your little knowledge of the Italian language became nonexistent when he was busy making you cry on his tongue.
“Again, baby. You know i fucking love it” he says, mouthing the words right against your core.
And so you obeyed, tugging at his hair again, a little rougher, a little harder.
A low groan left his lips.
You were close, you were so fucking close.
“Shit, Theo, baby” you moaned out loud, the term of endearment completely slipping out.
Theo seemed to notice, because he started to go faster, tongue flicking desperately at your folds.
Your breath got caught in your lungs, your ears rang and your sight turned black as you got hit by pleasure.
The hand on his hair kept Theo close as you rode your orgasm on his tongue.
He lapped at your juices carefully, to not overstimulate you, leaving sweet butterfly kisses on your thighs, worshiping the skin with his lips.
Once your breathing started to go back to normal and your sight was not blurry from the pleasure anymore you looked at him.
He was still kneeling in front of you, a teasing smile tugging at his lips as his eyes focused on your face.
“You look quite disheveled, principessa” he said with a chuckle, pride oozing from his features for reducing you in that state. All fucked out and breathless. (princess)
“Oh, yeah ? And whose fault is that ?” you asked in mocking shock, but you couldn't help a chuckle from escaping your lips.
“And you're one to talk” you added as you took in his appearance. His eyes were still quite foggy and unfocused, his hair a mess from all the tugging, and his lips.
Oh, his lips. Red and shiny with your essence and the tiniest bit swollen.
He looked too fucking good to be true.
You knew you folded too easily when Theo was involved, but you couldn’t help it.
“I told you I was starving, you underestimated my eagerness to fucking devour you” he said with a shrug, wetting his lips to savor your taste once again, like his words didn’t make you feel like you were catching fire.
That mouth of his was a menace, physically and metaphorically.
“I’m never gonna be able to finish this stupid essay now” you said almost desperately.
He laughed at your pathetic whining, but it was a warm laugh, not one made to mock you but one that was closer to endearment.
“Was it so good that it melted your brain off ?” he asked with that cocky grin of his.
You looked at him with a deadpan expression.
“Your overly confident attitude never fails to amaze me, Theodore Nott '' you said with a chuckle. You straightened your posture on the chair, smoothing out all the wrinkles that he had left from fisting your skirt and holding on for dear life to keep your hips still.
“Now I don’t want to kick you out, but I really need to finish this”
“No need for that, tesoro, I’ll leave you to it. Wouldn’t want to distract you too much” he said, getting back up on his feet and tucking a rebellious strand of your hair behind your ear.
“See you at dinner ?” he asked. 
You simply nodded your head yes.
His hand was still gently caressing your cheek, the pads of his fingers were as light as a feather as they danced on your skin.
His eyes were locked in yours, and you had no idea of what was happening.
Until his fingers reached your chin, tilting your head up the slightest bit. 
Then he leaned in.
For the first time since you had started this ‘arrangement’ his lips met yours.
And they were sweeter than you thought, gentle, but there was an undertone of hunger, of neediness that you couldn’t ignore.
He tasted of nicotine and butter beer, bittersweet and addicting.
His lips were slightly chapped but you couldn’t care less about it as his tongue swiped on your bottom lip, his teeth grazing at it gently right after as he carefully bit the plump skin.
He pulled back slowly and you were left speechless.
He just chuckled at your wide eyes and agape mouth.
“Good luck on your essay, ok ? I’ll see you tonight” he left a quick kiss on your cheek before storming out of the door with a smile on his face.
Your thoughts were all over the place, because what the hell had just happened ?
Did Theodore Nott just kiss you ?
Something a little different from my usual marauders content, but he's been stuck in my brain for weeks now, and I couldn't help myself 😔
And honestly, as an Italian girl, I really think Lorenzo Zurzolo should be classified as a national treasure, thank you for coming to my ted talk.
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catboyieejeno · 11 months
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.・゜゜・・゜゜・..・゜゜・★
cw: little plot, roommates/fwb to lovers (ig?), strength kink, oral (fem receiving), slightly toxic (?), jealousy, very possessive jeno, overstimulation
18+ minors do not interact !
"stop fucking moving,"
you gasp out when jeno lands a slap on your clit, unable to help but jolt at the wave of pain and pleasure that shoots through your nerves. your eyes are dazed, but you can still make out his figure between your legs. he readjusts, using his big palms to keep your thighs far apart.
"i-i'm sorry, i'm sorry," you whimper weakly. he doesn't pay any mind to your apology, though, attaching his mouth to your dripping cunt once again.
by now, you knew jeno well enough to know exactly what pushed his buttons. it's exhilarating to test his limits, because more often than not, you'd end up with a few mind-blowing orgasms as your so-called 'punishment' at the end of the night.
so earlier, when your mutual friend jaemin came over, you thought it would be ingenious to settle down on the couch beside him and swing your legs over his lap.
that was your first mistake.
"sit there and take it," jeno growls, "and stay fucking still unless you want me to edge you all night,"
you knew your little plan would bother jeno, and it very much did. it was painfully obvious on his features, from the moment you hiked up your smooth legs and laid them over jaemin's thighs.
jeno's glare was unyielding, and he had his jaw clenched so tight, you worried his teeth might crack.
purely oblivious to your antics and jeno’s sudden sour mood, jaemin didn't think twice about resting his hands on your bare skin—it was an innocent gesture, really. the problem was, when he told a joke that made you laugh, you laughed a little too hard, taking his hand into your own and sliding it up your thigh.
it was bad enough that your cotton shorts were absolutely tiny, but it was worse that they were now tucked high between your legs. by the time you settled jaemin's hand where you wanted it to be, he was no less than a few inches from your core.
that was mistake number two.
"jeno. holy shit, please,"
"you wanna tease me, huh? wanna get me jealous? you like that shit," it doesn't matter that he's mumbling into your folds and his speech is slightly slurred, you catch onto his every word.
he laps you up again and again, alternating between laying his tongue flat on your clit and wrapping his lips around it to suck on it. his hands have slid up your waist, but his elbows keep your legs pinned open.
you're, quite literally, on fire. the wet, slurping sounds of him making out with your pussy are so loud that they're deafening. every groan and growl he grants shoots vibrations through you, and there doesn't seem to be enough oxygen in the room with the way you're rigidly panting.
if he didn't let you come soon, you're pretty sure you'd pass out.
"do you want anything to drink, jae?"
jeno scoffs. since when the fuck did you call jaemin 'jae?'
"some water would be nice, thanks," the boy flashed his smile at you and you stood up, ass practically hanging out of your shorts and right in his face. you couldn't see with your back turned, but jeno caught the way his friend's eyes darted to your pretty, plump cheeks, adam's apple bobbing as he gulped.
you returned with his glass, but just before you handed it to him, you pretended to stumble, and some of the water landed right over his crotch.
was it extremely cliche? sure, but it certainly did the trick.
when you came back with a kitchen towel chanting fake apologies and just about straddled one of his legs, jeno had pretty much had enough.
but then, as if that wasn't nearly enough, you went on to wipe away at jaemin's jeans (right over his slightly swelling bulge) wearing the most infuriatingly innocent look on your face.
"i'm so sorry!"
"it's okay, really," jaemin insisted, subconsciously spreading his knees farther apart so you could continue to dry him off.
"it's really not! jeno," you called, turning and batting your eyes, "can't you lend him one of your pairs?"
the moment your gaze landed on him, you knew you were fucked.
he narrowed his eyes on you, shooting daggers your way. after letting some air out through his nose, he seethed through his tightened teeth a small "sure."
and that? that was mistake number three.
"jeno, baby, i'm so close,"
"no," he warns, "don't you dare fucking come."
"i can't help it, i'm gonna-"
he stops at once, pulling the rug clean from under you and smirking at the way you whine out, body seizing up as your orgasm is stripped away. he watches as your hole pulses incessantly with need, grinding himself into the mattress.
you cry out, "i said i was sorry," but he only tuts, shaking his head.
"you made your bed, now lie in it."
"please," you're breathless and desperate for some sort of release. so much so, that you resort to shamelessly bargaining, "i'll give you head everyday for the next week,"
"not good enough. I can fuck your mouth whenever I want,"
"jeno! i'll- fuck, i don't know," you look around as you rack through your brain, but he doesn't let you finish your thought.
"say you're mine."
"but,” you pause, eyes widening, “i-i'm not,"
jeno sticks his middle finger knuckle deep into you, stilling it there within your tight, fluttering walls, "so then, tell me. you want jaemin's mouth on you instead of mine?"
"no," you answer quickly, honestly.
he pumps into you once, then twice, slowly coaxing the confession out of you, "then say it, baby. say you're mine, that i'm the only one who makes you feel this good,"
"i'm not yours, jeno. we-we've been over this,"
"i guess you don't wanna come then, do you?" he withdraws his digit and sits up on his knees, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants, "i don't know why you have to be so fucking stubborn all the time,"
you watch as he pulls his length out of his boxers, mouth working to gather saliva to the front of his mouth. he spits, letting it fall onto his swollen, pink tip. it's hard to hide the way you're basically squirming in anticipation, hips practically bucking up and closer to him.
"i'm sorry," you try again, voice sweet and airy. but again, he doesn't answer. he simply lines himself up with your hole and pushes in with a hiss, training his eyes on you to watch the way your jaw goes slack.
"you're a brat," he scolds, "and a tease," his hands press down on your tummy, resting his weight there. when he bottoms out, you grip his wrists, looking down to watch the way he sits on his heels with his dick buried in you.
"i'm sorr-“
"stop fucking saying that," he thrusts into you and you moan out, "you know what i wanna hear," his gradually increasing pace makes you shudder, and your orgasm starts building within you once again, "i'm gonna fuck you so good, you'll never even think about jaemin again,"
jeno rams his hips into you and the sound of your skin slapping against his echoes around your bedroom. you try to cover up how close you're getting, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he won't notice until it's too late.
the only problem is: jeno knows you just as well as you know him, and even more so, he knows your body. he prides himself in that—in catching every little involuntary sign and habit you have.
he knows the way your toes curl when he hits the right spot, deep within your gummy walls, and he knows the way your eyes gloss over to spill hot tears when he chokes you.
your face might be able to conceal your true intentions, but your pussy, gushing and squeezing around him, can not.
“if i feel you come around me, so help me god, i’m gonna stop,”
there isn’t the slightest hint of a bluff behind his sharp tone, and it pisses you off. your cheeks are red hot with frustration, nails digging into his skin, which only makes him squeeze your waist harder. the pleasure is dizzying, his thick length dragging up and down your walls in the most delectable way.
you aren’t gonna last much longer, you know that. he knows that.
“please, jeno. please please please,”
“i’ll let you come, baby. there’s nothing i want more than for you to come on my cock, but i need you to tell me,”
sneakily, you trail your hand between your legs to stimulate your clit, but he’s quick to grasp both of your wrists before you can even savor the feeling, pinning your arms on your chest between your bouncing breasts.
you’re a mere second away from whining out in protest when his own free hand flies to rub circles on your puffy clit, and suddenly, the feeling is far too overwhelming.
forced to blink harshly a few times to regain focus, you look at his features and come to the conclusion that truthfully, jaemin, and no one else for that matter, could ever make you feel like this.
you didn’t want anyone else anyway. your little act was just a ploy to get you to this very point, stuck underneath jeno who manages to make you come so hard each and every time he’s inside you that you wind up seeing stars.
as the cord threatens to snap in your belly, every ounce of you longing for release, you moan out loudly, giving in, “i’m yours! i don’t want anyone else, i promise,”
“yeah?”
“yes,” you insist, “yes, baby. fuck, m’all yours, always yours,”
he leans down to press a kiss to your lips, and suddenly, all the anger he had been airing out fades for a moment. he doesn’t shove his tongue down your throat (although you wouldn’t have minded much), and he doesn’t move his lips in any kind of rush; instead, they move against yours softly, almost feather-like, as if your confession would float away from any suddenness.
and finally, against your lips, he mumbles, “go ahead and come, sweet girl. i’ve got you.”
instantly, your nerves ignite and your breath hitches, your orgasm washing over you at last.
he isn’t far behind, not at all. he had been sensitive ever since he’d started humping the bed with his head stuck between your legs.
he finishes with you, in you, shooting streams of hot white cum inside your clenched walls. the grip he holds on your hand releases as a grunt rumbles in his throat, and you instinctively wrap your arms around him, letting him bury his face into your neck.
when he stills his movements, he lays his weight on top of you, warm, slick skin pressing right up against you, chest to chest.
after a few moments of silence, other than the settling heavy breaths from both of you, you rake your fingers through his hair, muttering timidly by his ear.
“i mean it. i’m yours. i only did all that earlier for—well, for this.”
“all mine?”
you nod, giving him reassurance when he lifts his head to read the expression on your face, “mhm.”
“good. i’m all yours, too.”
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enwoso · 12 days
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PINK SKIES — alessia russo
this has been in the works for a few months, just didn’t know when or if i wanted to post it as it involved quite a sensitive topic, and a topic which should be addressed in a very mature way.
this is also a topic which i hold very dear to my heart and is quite personal to me, especially since i lost someone very special to me in a similar way but i just wanted to share this as a way to raise awareness especially with september being dedicated to suicide prevention month but just you know you are appreciated, you are worth it and that there are people out there who can help and support you. please, you are not alone.🤍
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WARNING: mentions of death, allusions of sui**de and just upsetting themes! please do not read if any of these topics are sensitive to you.
"thought i'd find you here" lotte cooed as she stood with a sad smile, a few metres away from alessia whom was sat on the kerbside, only the streetlight to keep her company as the sky merged into a darker, gloomier colour.
alessia turned to look at the girl she'd known her entire life, before turning back to look at what was in her hands. a crumpled piece of paper with neat hand writing on it. a piece of paper which had not left her hands all day.
alessia didn't say anything instead her fingers just toyed with the piece of paper, tears falling down her cheeks. lotte made her way cautiously towards the blonde slotting down on the kerbside next to her, placing an arm around her. alessia’s head immediately landing on the girls shoulder.
it had been a long day. goodbyes are hard. especially last goodbyes, they sting the most and leave this feeling in your heart that never seems to go away.
"it's okay, less. she had a beautiful send off" lotte whispered as she let the blonde cry in her arms knowing that this had been building all day.
"i miss her lotte..." alessia choked out sniffles escaping her as tears streamed down her face and onto the piece of paper as she felt lotte nod pulling alessia closer to her.
"i know less and that's normal- but she wouldn't want you to be sat on the kerb crying" lotte sympathised as alessia nodded lightly. she knew you wouldn't want her to be sat on the kerb, heck she knew you would have wanted a big send off like the one that had been done for you.
but grief doesn't work in the way alessia imagined. its not a straight line, there's no formula to it. it's a mess.
some days the blonde feels as though your still beside her, joking about her tripping over thin air. but other days it hits alessia and she feels all those raw emotions all at once, again.
"i- i just wish she was here- she had so much still to live for.." alessia choked out once again, her words forming into one it barely being able to be understood but lotte did. she knew what alessia meant.
you and alessia hadn't known each other very long. you of course knew of each other but that was it. just shadows in the background of the others life.
it was an england camp which brought you together, one simple conversation and it changed alessia's life forever.
a silly conversation about different types of cookies and how your favourite was jammy dodgers as you would eat around the rim and then eat the jam center — alessia thought it was the funniest thing and was always in stitches watching you eat them that way.
but she was the type of person you just clicked with. no effort was needed. the type of friend you make and then don't remember how the first interaction went.
you just went from one day being total strangers to the next being the best of friends.
“and now you have to live for her, remember the good less.” lotte tried as alessia shook her head the peice of paper still clutching to her hand.
“no lotte, i just feel like i failed her. she was my best friend how could i have let this happen, i could have helped her, done something and maybe this wouldn’t have happened,, i could-“ alessia rambled out as lotte just the let the blonde do it her cheeks tears stained as her mascara had smudged under her eyes, the blonde moving her head from resting on lotte’s shoulder.
both lotte and alessia knew there was nothing that could have been done to help you. nobody could have even noticed that you were struggled never mind how bad your mental state was.
you had been estatic finding out that alessia was moving to london and more specifically to arsenal. it meant no more countdowns to when you’d next see each other, it meant you didn’t need to sit on a train for three hours again. it meant you could see each other any time you wanted.
alessia would forever remember the excitement in your voice when she picked up her phone.
"your actually coming to london!"
"yeah i am! we are gonna be in london together!”
"i can't wait to spend every day with you less"
"me neither y/n, me neither."
or how the two of you spent the next two hours on call with each other as you listed all the places you were going to show her, the local cafe where you went for your morning coffee before training, the park where you walked your mum’s dog — rocco every day, the restaurant you always went with your sister when she came to visit.
alessia eventually making the move to arsenal after a bittersweet summer in australia not being able to come away with the world cup win but neverless having an unforgettable summer spent by your best friends side.
both you and alessia's focus moving towards the start of the new season, while also fitting in all the places you wanted to show alessia in the weekends which you had off which came few and thin.
everything in alessia's eyes was perfect, she was living in london with her best friend, she was closer to her family and she was getting to play football with her best friends day in and out.
but for you it couldn't have been further from that.
after the world cup getting back into the next season was tough for you, going from match to match without a break was hard. some weeks you were playing ninety minutes, twice a week. you were getting pushed to your limits.
you mental health had begun to take a toll, social media trolls were getting to you, one miss kick in a match and you had a huge target on your back and were the victim of online abuse. you weren't the perfect angel who was seen as a hero if you scored a goal and could do no wrong in the team.
if you scored the response was why are you not doing it every game?
if you defended well the obvious response was that's the bare minimum, that's your job as a defender.
if the team conceded it was your fault.
if you got into the england squad the response was you had taken away from someone else who actually deserved it.
in the eyes of the public you could do no right.
but no one could see you were mentally and physically struggling, your teammates thought you had just learned to not care what the public said about you on social media or thought you hadn't seen it but in reality you had probably seen it long before they did.
in videos and in real life you never didn't have a smile on your face and one thing you never stopped doing was sitting with alessia and laughing about nothing.
but at home when you were alone, your mind ate away at you. letting yourself truly believe that what people were saying online was the person you were.
“i’m so stupid though i should have noticed the signs, how she wasn’t herself” alessia carried on her rant to lotte as lotte listened. that’s what alessia needed right now, is to let it all out as alessia continued.
“less, there was nothing you could do” lotte cooed, another sniffle coming from alessia as she kicked the stones underneath her feet.
a silence filled the gap, not an awkward one but the silence could definitely be felt. the slight wind that followed as the street grew darker, behind the building where the reception was happening with all your family and friends were.
“what’s that?” lotte questioned, pointing towards the piece of paper that she’d noticed alessia carrying all day. it never leaving the blondes hand during the entire service and reception afterwards.
alessia looked down at it, a sad smile on her face as she did. “a letter..” alessia paused, “y/n wrote before she um, you know.. died.”
a change in look come from lotte as her facial expression changed, it sunk a little deeper. lotte didn’t pry though she knew that whatever had been written in that letter was personal, it wasn’t her business to know. if alessia wanted her to know alessia would tell her off her own back.
“i found it in her room when i was going through her things in her apartment-“ alessia spoke, pausing to take a deep breath, her mind building the picture of her walking through your apartment for the last time. how strange it felt. how empty it felt.
alessia continued, “it was weird lotte, it was like she had never been there- the walls, the drawers.. they were bare, like she never even been there before.”
lotte nodded lightly as another small silence came over the two, a little flicker of the street light before the silence was broken.
“it’s funny really because i wish i could just sit and listen to her ramble on about nothing but we would still loose track of time” a small sad smile appeared on the blonde face as she recounted the memory, lotte sitting listening with a similar look as alessia carried on.
“-or the fact she would never let us get coffee from anywhere else but her local cafe where she’d get the same coffee each time — but she’d never have to ask cause the person behind the counter would always have it ready for her. i think that’s why she like to go there..” a little giggled came from alessia as she thought about the many times she tried to get you to go to a different coffee place but you’d point blank refuse.
“less i know it’s gonna be hard but y/n will always be cheering for you not only up there-“ lotte pointed to the dark star which was now filled with tiny white stars, “but in here too” lotte pointed to alessia’s heart as a small nod came from her, she knew lotte was right.
“and overall she’d want you to carry on playing and winning trophy after trophy. so even if you don’t think you can do it for yourself.. do it for y/n.” lotte told the blonde as another shaky breath came from alessia, tears threatening to fall once again.
“i wish i could play football with her again.” alessia shakily said as lotte pulled the blonde into a tight hug, running her hand up and down the blondes back as she comforted her.
“i wish tomorrow came”
you just about made it to the new year, which you spent with alessia and her family as she had insisted that you were not seeing the new year in alone, she wasn't going to allow that to happen.
that was probably the last time you actually truly smiled. just being surrounded by happiness and not having negativity seeping through your veins.
the loss against west ham, the online abuse pretty much tripled. you being blamed for a short pass which resulted in a second goal for west ham and the fans had deemed that you had then and there lost arsenal the chance of winning the league.
after that weekend you found yourself spending a lot more time alone which was not a good thing. your thoughts were spiralling, you began to question why were you actually here?
any team bonding sessions you then began not to turn up, each one declined with a different excuse.
any time alessia asked you to hang out it was always the same, 'feeling tired today less, maybe tomorrow yeah?"
alessia began to notice your change in behaviour but at first did put it down to you just being tired, your limits being pushed to the max. she knew that, heck she wasn't blind anyone could see it.
it wasn't until the first england camp of the new year when you pulled out because of injury did she begin to realise you weren't just tired or injured for that matter.
she called you and you had told her nothing but lies, that you had tweaked you knee in the last game however that was the first game in months that you didn't play a full ninety. so the blondes suspicions raised, and the blonde promised she would come and see you straight after the game at wembley tomorrow.
however tomorrow for you, never came.
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usagikookiejams · 1 year
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A/N: Hey peeps! Sorry for the long wait 👉🏻👈🏻 I was busy for quite some time due to the final examinations. I hope you guys don't mind me not updating for long. Okayy so here we go, enjoy!~
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SOMEONE BAD MOUTHING YOU
Ryuguji Ken, Shiba Taiju, Sano Manjiro
⚠️Warning: curse words, aggressive behavior
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Ryuguji Ken (Draken)
Today was weird, Draken felt like everyone was avoiding you for some reason. He couldn't quite put a finger on it. The school bell rang indicating recess time, he walked through the corridor to go to your classroom and have recess together. However, once he walked by the toilet, he heard a conversation mentioning about you, hence he halted his movement. "Do you know that Y/N from Class 3-1 was a bully during elementary school?," "Ugh, no wonder she's in relationship with Draken, they must enjoyed bullying people together during their elementary," the conversation continued which most of the time were about you. Draken couldn't hold it any longer, he has knew you since the elementary! He knew how you were a timid kid, and instead, you were the one that were bullied! That was why he came to your rescue and protected you since then. He approached those students in the toilet, "Repeat that again. I want to decipher whatchu you mean by that... ." They all frozed in their spot, not knowing how to reply. "He! He was the one saying that!," one of them pointed out at a certain guy. Huh..? Draken knows him, he was the guy that confessed to you before and he also went to the same elementary school you both went to. Draken felt enraged and grabbed the said guy's collar. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to say that!," "As if! You literally throwing dirt on her name and now you are denying it!." Fast forward, Draken arrived at your class but with the man tailed behind him, "Kenny, why is he here?," you asked curiously. "This guy will confess his sin in front of the school gate after school, you will see why," Draken smirked. Glad to say by the time the school ended, the guy were kneeling in front of you while screaming how he made up those rumour as a revenge for your rejection. The next day, many students approached you to apologize for believing those lies.
Shiba Taiju
Taiju were currently relaxing in his office room. He has ordered one of his subordinate to grab him a drink at the coffee shop across the street. He was minding his own business when suddenly he heard those subordinates of his were chit-chatting at the garden. He happened to hear their conversation due to him currently sitting by the open big window in his office. "Y/N has made our boss becoming less powerful! I hate her! I joined Black Dragon as I admired our boss so much due to his power and strength! But it seems like our boss has become mellow once she came into the frame. How I wish I could broke them up so that we gotta have our old boss back!," the guy that was ordered by Taiju has voiced out his complaint to another subordinate. Without a warning, Taiju jumped from the window and luckily he didn't broke any bones considering that it was quite high. After landing, he threw a punch towards the guy's face. The impact was very shocking, as the guy broke some of his tooth and coughing blood in the process. "I asked you to get me a coffee! Not to badmouthed my girlfriend, asshole!," he kicked the guy in the stomach. The poor guy sworn on his life that he was joking. "Joking my ass! You fucking think I'm dumb huh?!," Taiju continued to punish him. "Drag this guy to the torture room, do as I said or you will become the next target!," Taiju ordered the other subordinate. By the next hour, you entered his office and you could see Taiju was smiling by himself. "Err scary! Why are you smiling like that when no one is around?," you asked him. Taiju walked over to you and hugged you, "Nothing babe. I am just glad that a pest was diposed! He was such an eyesore... ."
Sano Manjiro (Mikey)
Mikey was currently waiting for everyone at the Toman's meeting area. While waiting, he saw some of the Toman's members started to gather there. It seems like none of them noticed him as he waited near the big tree. Mikey started to hear mumblings from the group, so he started to eaves-dropped to their conversation. "Where is Y/N?," "I don't know, maybe she didn't feel like tagging along this meeting anymore," "Glad to hear that, she's no use. I don't know why Mikey let her participates in our meeting. It's not like she helps us fight too." Mikey started to see red, what the hell were they saying about you?! He got up from his position and walked over to the group, "I agree with you guys! Ugh... why would I ever let her in the meeting with us, right?." The group fell silent, most of them looked at Mikey horrified. "Hey, why are you guys not talking anymore? It's okay, just talk! Fill me in with the gossip you have," Mikey faux his smile. They remained silent, that is when Mikey felt like he couldn't take it anymore. He kicked one of them swiftly, making the guy thrown away quite far. The other guys were now begging for forgiveness, saying that they didn't mean what they said about you. Fast forward, you arrived at the meeting area with all of the other founder members of Toman. You ran to Mikey as you saw some of the members scattered on the ground, "What happened Mikey?! Did the enemy group attacked you guys?!." Mikey turned to look at you, "Hehe nothing happened babe! These guys wanna have a match with me so we did, but as you can see, I won!." You sighed and scolded him not to hurt his members anymore. Mikey just nodded his head and walk you along to the other founder members. Unfortunately, the next day, those guys that were found scattered on the ground were nowhere to be found, hmm you wonder why...
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thehauntedetheral · 2 months
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If it’s not too much trouble how about a yandere firefighter. I really like what you write and your ideas are amazing. I hope you take care of yourself and have a great day.
Yan Firefighter x Reader
Requests are open !
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• A regular day in your boring office. only the fact that you and your bestfriend were doing your favourite thing to do in this office which is well, your office is right beside fire station filled with handsome strong mens. And everyday during lunch time or in between time most of the ladies including you and your bestfriend would come by the glass wall to look at this handsome, muscular strong mens practicing, exercising and doing their work. What? After all i am just a girl 🎀
"Hey y/n I am thinking of lightning this office to fire just to get carried in the arms of this beauties." Your bestfriend said.
"It's a good idea but no." You said while wishing to do same. You knew your bestfriend was always the joking, chill person.
• Your break got over and you went to your cubicle doing the old boring work. When out of nowhere you smelled like something burning and a second later the fire alarm of office started screaming and water droplets started to spread all over the place.
You looked at your bestfriend and screamed "I told you to not do it."
Your bestfriend replied back screaming "I swear to god I didn't do it". But you didn't believe it.
"We will argue later first let's get out of this place before we get real cooked" your bestfriend screamed at top of her lungs making a point.
You both started running towards exit. Thankfully the fire station was just beside your office. So hoses of water, fire extinguishers and firemens were already at your office saving people.
You were running when your leg sprained out making you moan in pain. God not now! You thought. Due to sprain you weren't able to walk fast but did your best. You looked out for your bestfriend but in the running crowd it was impossible to find someone. Am I gonna die here today? You thought.
• No baby you can't die until yan Firefighter is alive. He won't let anything happen to you. EVER.
• As you and your friend has always been looking at them through glass wall admiring them. The same way yan has been looking for you for quite some time only he is more discreet.
• This man is obsessed with you.
• He watches you whenever he gets any chance.
• Always does his best while doing training and exercise because he knows that you are watching through that glass wall.
• Always tries to overdo everyone as he doesn't want anyone else doing the best and getting your attention. He wants your attention only on him.
As soon as he gets to know your office got caught on fire. He is furious thinking about your safety.
Starts Running the fatest to get you and make sure you are alright.
Searches for you all over the office when his eyes finally lands on you.
As soon as he sees you he just lifts you in his arms bridal style without any thinking carrying you out side finally feeling relieved that you are safe.
You are in his arms. Just feeling you in his arms makes him smile like crazy.
You feel safe in his strong large arms. Soon you are out of the building your bestfriend running towards you "God I was so scared when I didn't found you outside with me. Thank God you are safe." Your friend all serious which she rarely is in life.
Yan Firefighter places you on your feet even if he doesn't want to and just wants to feel you in his arms.
You thanked him for saving you while he just said "just doing my duty, mam" while looking at you with heart eyes.
"I have to say you were looking so good in his arms you two should probably date" your bestfriend said chuckling again going to her casual self back after fussing over you.
You want to punch her in face for saying this comment as you are red as Tomato now and you could feel that the firefighter who saved you would be embarassed too only to find out upon looking at him he was blushing like crazy upon hearing the sentence. While your bestfriend enjoyed the free show you were providing for her.
To clear the awkwardness yan Firefighter clears his throat and says "I should move back to see if anyone needs my help even though almost everyone are out".
You just nodded at him still a bit red. Definitely from fire not from the earlier sentence you said to yourself.
Yan Firefighter started to move back before turning back to look at you and say " By the way after work would you like to go on a date with me y/n?" He asked a bit shy and scared of rejection.
"Yes. Sure after all you saved my life" you said smiling making him smile and run towards his team.
Seems like you wouldn't have to punch your bestfriend after all. Atleast this fire did something good to you.
"y/n please make me maid of honor in your wedding after all i set you two up" your bestfriend said jokingly while you bump your shoulder with her. Smiling like crazy waiting for your date tonight.
Want part 2? Let me know through comments.
Requests are open!
For more yandere reading :
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yourdoorisunlocked · 7 months
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ᴏɴʟʏ ʜɪᴍ
𝐀/𝐍: A very late oneshot for a cute request I got, I hope it's worth the wait! I'll try to be more consistent with posting, but life is throwing me actual curveballs rn, so patience is appreciated! And my LORD the wattpad-ass songs I keep picking out for these fics are always sending me- 💀✋
Also, Reader is AFAB in this one (since the wife fantasies this man has about Reader are UNTAMEABLE LMAO)
➺ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 | 𝐒𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖, 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲, 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫, 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠.
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“How long I’ve waited, darling. You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me...” 
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. . .
There was something about Alastor that deeply intrigued you.  
He always seemed to carry suave, foreboding darkness dancing upon the edges of unpredictability with a smile as sharp as a razor. 
What others found unnerving, you labeled as charming and ‘eccentric,’ when it came to Alastor. You simply didn’t care about the worse aspects of him, or rather, you accepted them with such ease that it surprised even the most estranged of demons. 
And though he was wary of your intentions, at first, Alastor soon recognized your unusual fascination with him and determination to befriend him as quite flattering, from such an alluring young lady like yourself. So, Alastor decided to humor you and make nice with you, since it was... difficult to have a good friend, especially with his status as an Overlord, to say the least.
Apart from Rosie - who, mind you, was occupied with her Emporium most of the time - he didn't have much else in his afterlife that didn't relate to the hotel. And though this silly endeavor was proving to be quite the source of entertainment, the issue still stood.
Those below Alastor that didn’t turn tail and run at the first sound of radio static would only test his patience, whether that be at the end of Vaggie’s angelic spear or the punchline of a raunchy joke from Angel Dust. 
Suffice it to say, Alastor was grateful for your company, though he’d never admit it, and had grown terribly fond of you. 
Almost attached, one could say. Though one would be skewered and sliced open before they could finish that heinous accusation. 
Sure, Alastor had possibly grown a tender spot for you in his wretched, rotted heart, but who wouldn’t take a bit of an obsession liking to the tangles and locks of your hair that he could only dream of twisting around his red-tipped claws? Or the delicate curl of your lips as you lifted your face into a crooked smile that had burned itself into his memory, making his heart pound erratically within his chest? 
And, ah, there you are, now. Working the coffee machine and putting a polite hand to your mouth as you yawned softly, still in your pajamas with your hair amess and your eyes struggling to stay open as they fluttered, before landing on him. 
“Oh, Alastor! Good morning,” a glimpse of your small, tired smile made his heart jump to his throat as he stepped forward with his hands behind his back. 
“Good morning, my dear! And how was your night?” 
You brightened at the question, your smile growing. Yes. Give him more, give him more of your happiness, your smile-  
“Oh, it was a wonderful dream, Al’! I can’t wait to tell you all about it.” 
He leaned against the counter, preening at how his name rolled so perfectly off your tongue. “By all means, do tell, darling~." 
Alastor was none too ashamed, despite his reputation as a gentleman, that his eyes were solely trained upon your lips the entire time you spoke, his smile growing in size with each glimpse of your tongue that he could manage to catch. 
“Hm... That’s very nice, my dear,” he nodded along absentmindedly as you ranted animatedly, enjoying the brightness behind your eyes while you made yourself breakfast. 
How tempting and sweet was the visage of you, as Alastor’s sweet, doting little wife, making yourselves breakfast and waving him off to his radio tower with your delectable, kissable smile and a cup of black coffee. 
“Oh, and there was a- Al'? Alastor, are you even listening?” 
Alastor smoothly brought himself from his trance “I do believe you were going on about seeing a deer, of some kind? With fur-"
"Softer than anything I've ever felt? I'm surprised you were even able to hear me over your own thinking." You glanced over at him with concern. “You’ve been spacing out like that a lot, recently. Are you alright?” 
“Top of my game, my dear! Why, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d be worried over me~,” Alastor leaned forward against the counter, laying his chin upon his intertwined claws as he tilted his head up at you, grinning wider at your flustered blush.
“Well-! Of course, I’m worried about you. You’re my friend, after all...” you turned away, missing the way Alastor deflated at that cursed title that he’d seemed to acquire, despite being your closest confidant, your partner-in-crime, your partner, period.
But good things came to those who waited, Alastor supposed.
As the both of you continued to converse, you half-cringing, half-laughing at his onslaught of puns and ‘dad jokes,’ as you jokingly called them, a pair of excited hooves bounded down the hallway, and an excited princess of Hell jumped into the kitchen beside her tired girlfriend, who was still rubbing her drooping eyes. 
“Good morning, guys!” Charlie squealed as she ran across the room, collecting the different points for her plan of Project: Redemption that she had left for you to organize overnight.
“Hey, there,” Vaggie yawned softly as she slumped into the room, and You shook your head with a chuckle. Poor girl must’ve stayed up all night, listening to Charlie’s rants about her plans for the Hazbin Hotel, since its major renovations and redesign, courtesy of Lucifer himself. 
“Well, aren’t you bright-eyed and bushy-tailed? What’s got you so worked up, now?” You poured Vaggie a cup of coffee and she took it with an appreciative smile. 
“Well...” Charlie looked to Vaggie, who nodded encouragingly. “My dad’s going to visit the hotel again!” She bounced on her heels, oblivious to how Alastor stiffened beside you, and you inwardly groaned.
Here we go again, you sighed tiredly as you prepared for the radio host’s snark towards the King of Hell. 
Those two had been at each other’s necks since Lucifer had offered his help in advertising the hotel, and the mere mention of the Fallen Angel’s name would set Alastor off on an hour-long rant. 
“Is that so?” Static thickened his voice with malice as his ears swerved backwards, pointed and alert as you followed them with a stifled giggle. Alastor never seemed to notice the more adorable aspects of his demonic nature, being a deer demon. Then again, he probably chose to ignore them, trying to preserve his image more than anything. 
You took a slow sip of coffee as you glanced at his backside. I wonder if he has a tail, too. 
“C’mon, Al’. It’s her dad, you can at least be a little supportive.” 
His eyes widened towards you as you shrugged. “Not you, too!”  
“Hmph! I thought you’d have the sense to at least take my side on this one. Have I not been nothing but devoted to you?" Alastor batted his eyelashes at you, pretending to pout as you snorted.
“Well, it’s not like he’s going to move in, right? You still technically have the hotel all to yourself,” you rub his shoulder in an attempt to sooth him, unaware of the surprised glance that Vaggie and Charlie shared. 
“...I suppose you’re right. At least he won't be staying here, in that gaudy apartment of his!" He laughed, referring to the apple tower that Lucifer had built when the hotel was under re-construction.
“Um, ha-ha, about that...” the princess twiddled her fingers with a strained grin, and his smile tensed further. 
“No...” your eyes widened in disbelief. There was no way... She wouldn’t! 
But it’d make sense, wouldn’t it? I mean, the hotel wouldn’t be sporting that super-subtle apple-shaped tower for nothing, right? 
“Ɏꝋᵾ ᵯēⱥꞥ ⱦꝋ ⱦēłł ᵯē, ɏꝋᵾ īꞥꝟīⱦēđ ⱦħⱥⱦ ƀⱥꞩⱦⱥɍđ ꝋꝟēɍ ⱦꝋ ꞨȾȺɎ ĦɆꞦɆ!?-” 
“Alright, alright, take five.” You sighed and looked towards Charlie, who shifted nervously in her spot as Alastor stood off to the side with palpable anger.
“I’m sorry if it’s too soon, and I know you’ve never met my dad before, but I promise, he’s just trying to help the hotel. Just... give him a chance? Please?” 
“It’s fine, I’m fine with it, but I know someone who won’t be,” with a glance towards the self-proclaimed ‘Host of the Hotel,’ you took Charlie’s hands in yours. “I’m glad that you’re reconnecting with your dad, okay? Just... warn us, next time. Specifically, warn him,” you side-eyed where the Radio Demon was scrutinizing the both of you, small voodoo sigils floating around his form with an eerie glow. 
A soft smile graced her features. “Yeah, yeah, sorry, I was just so excited! Dad’s really trying, you know? And I promise, he really wants to help the hotel."
You turned towards Alastor. “Now, do you think you can settle down? For Charlie?” You avoided the word ‘behave’ for the sake of not being eviscerated on the spot. 
"Hm... Perhaps, but you must promise to stay by my side the entire time," Alastor gripped your shoulder for emphasis, and you rolled your eyes and reached up his collar.
"Alright then... I guess I can manage that."
His eyes trailed up and down your figure, and all his cultivated anger evaporated as you fixed his bowtie, clearly a bit jittery yourself. 
Lucifer may have had the hotel, hell, he could take Alastor’s place, for all he cared. He didn’t even want the blasted position in the first place, not before Lucifer challenged it. But the King of Hell didn’t - couldn’t - have you, and that alone was enough to pacify Alastor, for now. 
He shook away the confusion that came with the sudden bout of possessiveness from the thought of you so much as sharing an interaction with the Fallen Angel and dismissed you to retreat into the shadows until Lucifer arrived.
It was 1:00 P.M. on the dot, and the doors burst open as shimmering crimson light poured into the room, and the King of Hell, the infamous Fallen Angel himself stood before the newly furnished lobby with his arms widely outstretched for his much taller daughter to embrace her. 
“Charlie!” 
“Hi, Dad!” 
As the two Morningstars greeted each other with a tight hug, you almost gushed at how adorably similar they looked, despite the height difference. 
You also noted how Lucifer immediately narrowed his eyes at Alastor, gloved hands clutching his cane in a strangling grip, as if he were restraining himself from giving the radio host a beatdown with it. 
“Bellhop,” Lucifer spat without missing a beat. 
“Deadbeat,” Alastor shot back with a malicious grin.
You groaned and slapped your forehead. I just talked to him about this!
“And just who might this be?” Lucifer raised a dark eyebrow towards you, and you stepped forward – away from Alastor to his dismay – to properly introduce yourself to Charlie’s father. “A first good impression goes a long way,” as your mother liked to say. 
“Hello,” you smiled and gave Lucifer your name, side-eyeing Alastor as he scoffed heatedly at your misplaced politeness. But, in his defense, it truly was! There was no reason to pay any heed to that short-stacked, duck-loving ȼɍēⱦīꞥ!
“Oh! Yes, this is our newest resident at the hotel! She's been a big help, especially around the kitchen!" Charlie squealed with enthusiasm, practically singing your praises in front of her father and you blushed.
“It's nice to meet you," you held out your hand to shake his, and a soft smirk pulled at Lucifer’s pale features as he bent down at the waist at a perfect angle, laying a chaste, feathery kiss against the back of your hand. “Charmed, I’m sure~.” 
The king’s eyes trailed from up your waist before making heated eye contact with you, rising slowly from his bow.
The screech of a record player from behind made you flinch, but you attempted a clumsy curtsy and ignored Alastor’s rising temper, sigils flying about from the display of unearned affection. “Likewise, Your Majesty.” 
“Oh, no need for such formalities. Just Lucifer is fine, my dear."
“Oh, alright then... Lucifer.” The Fallen Angel’s smirk widened into a toothy smile that contrasted yet was quite comparable to Alastor’s terrifying grimace as he took you by the arm and pulled you along into the freshly revamped hotel lobby. 
"Charlie, you didn’t tell me such a doll was staying here! I would’ve visited sooner, you know,” the king laughed, and you chuckled along awkwardly as you glanced back at your crimson-clad friend, who was seething in his place as he watched you walk beside the king's sauntering pace, pure confidence and smugness radiating from Lucifer as Charlie smiled at you apologetically.
Alastor’s pointed ears were pinned backwards, and the raven tips of his hair sharpened as his lips rose slightly above his gums in an enraged sneer. 
“You know, I remodeled most of this place,” Lucifer grinned up at you while you looked around with appreciative eyes, and Alastor trailed closely behind the both of you, along with Charlie who looked up at him with confusion.  
“Is that so? In that case, I really must thank you for giving the kitchen a well-needed upgrade! It’s so much easier to work my way around it, now.” 
"Oho, of course, my dear! Anything for you~," he grinned devilishly up at you, chuckling at the soft blush that tinged your cheeks as the screech of radio static crackled and electrified the air.
Alastor hated it. Despised it. The way you were smiling at Lucifer like that, like you’d been friends for ages, like he’d been the one to bring you on delightful outings, make you laugh yourself sick over whiskey, pull you into spontaneous dances and be a shoulder to lean on whenever you needed it most.
Not like that you'd ever gone to Alastor in such a sorrowful state, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t the first that you’d go to for that kind of thing.
Why were you gushing over Lucifer? Weren’t you closer to Alastor? Didn't you like him better?
Oh, now this just won't do...
"Darling. A word?"
You nearly flinched at Alastor's seemingly cheery, yet short and clipped tone, clearly peeved at something, though you were completely clueless. Maybe Lucifer really pissed him off that much and he needed a breather?
Shaking off your nerves, you nodded politely and missed the way Alastor preened with approval, shooting Lucifer a smug glare as he placed his hand upon the small of your back and pushed you along towards a private spot in the middle of the hallway.
Alastor's ear turned in the direction of the two Morningstars as Charlie and Lucifer retreated down the hallway to his room. Once he was sure they were gone, he snatched your wrist and pulled you inside of a hotel room just left of you.
The door shut behind you both, and you tried not to tremble under Alastor's smoldering gaze while you stared up at him, confused by his sudden fury.
"So, care to explain why that pint-sized excuse of a king was cozying up to you?" The words shot like gunfire from his lips, his insults carrying the weight of bullets as Alastor towered over you while clutching his staff.
"I was only being polite..." you wrung your hands sheepishly as Alastor scoffed down at you, his smile becoming more of a curled snarl.
"And besides, why would you care so much about what Lucifer thinks of me? I'm still your friend." When your hand takes his in its warm grip, Alastor has to resist the urge to melt.
Because I don't want to be 'just your friend,' was what Alastor wanted to say. Because I want your beauty and laughter all to myself, I want you to be mine, you need to be mine-
"Because I-" Alastor took pause, as if the mere notion of caring about you more than he should stole the very breath from his lungs.
His claws reached up to caress your cheek, and you shuddered from the tickle of contact, keeping your gaze focused on him. "Because you're the only person who makes me question myself. The only person who I... who I want to call my own." The words tumbled from his lips, hesitant yet ringing pure truth and adoration for you, and Alastor looked away from you for a moment, unable to meet your gaze, impatient for your answer.
Slowly, scared that he'd disappear into the shadows and that glimmer of vulnerability would fade should you move too fast, you leaned forward into Alastor's touch, nuzzling against his palm.
"And... And if I happen to feel the same way? What would you do, then?"
Alastor's eyes widened slightly at the confession, and he took a slow few steps forward to push you up against the wall, his gaze darkened and yearning as his warm breath fanned against your lips.
"I'd tell you to be care of what you wish for, darling~."
Sharp, yellow teeth pricked, and soft, gentle lips sucked and kissed around your collarbones and neck, as Alastor shivered and rumbled ever so softly at the taste of you, the feeling of marking you as his own as you whimpered and shivered beneath him with want.
His shadow flew to the door, turning the lock with a definite click and trapping you inside with the man who'd fantasized of ravaging you since months ago, when a pretty little doe wandered into his office.
You moaned against Alastor, limply allowing one of his hands to hold your wrists above your head as his leg came between yours, and he rose to face you, lines of crimson dripping down the side of his lips.
Alastor's lips hungrily captured yours, and he made no hesitation to slip his long, black tongue beyond your lips and into your mouth, greedily swallowing your moans while wetness dripped between your legs, and his own made an obscene stain against Alastor's pants.
You panted as he pulled away, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck and kissing just below his jawline as he pressed his throbbing erection against you.
“How long I’ve waited, darling. You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me...” 
Alastor's hands ripped at his coat, hastily unbuttoning it from his vest before he pressed against you once more, eager to have you back in his arms.
His eyes darkened down at you as you started pulling at your blouse, desperate to pull him flush against your bare skin as he leaned over you, his slender arms caging you in beneath him.
"Oh, I'm going to devour you, ma chère... Show you just who you belong to..."
He inched closer as the sound of static grew thick in the air, tickling against your arms and making the hairs on the back of your neck rise as pure, carnal desire engulfed the both of you.
"P-Please..."
The doorknob rattled.
Knock, knock.
"Hey, uh- Is everything okay in there?" Charlie's concerned voice sounded through the door, and the both of you instantly froze, Alastor's hands still hovering over the belt buckle of his pants.
"Fuck," an irritated, animalistic growl rumbled from him, and he stood up to his full height as he glanced apologetically down at you, tilting your chin up to face him.
"I'm afraid we'll have to postpone this, darling."
Alastor planted a long, heated kiss against your lips, his tongue savoring every taste of you that he could manage before he brushed out his hair and pulled his coat from the ground and back onto his shoulders.
"Not to worry..." Alastor buttoned up your blouse, his eyes lingering on your cleavage for a few more moments than normally and turned on his heel and plastered his trademark smile back onto his face.
"We'll continue our little show, later."
. . .
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𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Bet ya'll didn't expect that, huh? Caught in 4k smh
Ok, so there is a LOT going on rn and I'm trying my darndest to keep up with a consistent schedule (I say after going radio silent - pun intended - for a goddamn week) BUT I SWEAR THINGS ARE GOING UNDER WAY, chapter one of 'What A Dish, What A Doll' is getting a rewrite, I'm trying to finish more requests and headcanons, and the VOX FIC NEEDS TO BE UPDATED-
it's just a lot lmao, but y'all's patience is super appreciated!!
. . .
➺ 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer2024, @prosciuttosblog, @frog-fans-unite, @mysterypotatoink, @burgerflipper72, @chibikochannumberone, @strawberry-gothic, @roboticsuccubus83, @lulurubberduckie, @fangirlanxiety74, @viviannagiorgini, @localmsifan, @justtnat, @karolinda007-blog, @mglawwica, @wonderlandangelsposts, @saitisfied, @repostingmyfavs, @weirdflower2024, @montis-posts, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @theperfectmangovoid, @slytherin4ever, @i-love-jafar, @itzlochnessie, @mariaclarade-la-cruz1, @susvale, @valentique, @twismare, @robin-the-enby, @v3n7s, @forbidden-sunlight, @leathesimp, @matemor, @groovybear99, @frompeach, @moonmark98, @nyxnightshade7656, @sushigogo
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socksracoon10 · 8 months
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Being an Elf and falling in love with Thorin
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Headcanons below the cut!
When Gandalf had first summoned you, it wasn't a very easy decision to make.
Being a Sindar elf yourself, the choice of having to derail from your own beliefs bruised your ego... especially since you were entrusted with overseeing Thorin and his company.
"My dear (Y/N)," Gandalf sighed, "I can not trust any other elf with such an arduous task. I know you are capable of setting aside your prejudices and aiding these dwarves."
"You saved my life once from the Uruk-hais. I am indebted to you for that, Gandalf. But I believe that this will be the one time I shall repay you for your kindness in this manner. Do not expect more from me." You muttered with a bitter tone.
"I do not plan on it." Gandalf reassured you.
When you first met the company under Bilbo's roof, there was silence. An eerie amount of silence.
The hobbit before you seemed enchanted by your presence.
You learned his name was Bilbo; he was the most sensible out of the bunch at the moment.
Your eyes traveled across the room and landed on Thorin, who had a nasty scowl on his face.
He wasn't expecting you to actually show up. He had hoped that for once that elvish pride would've saved him from having to face another individual of the same kind that had betrayed him years ago.
The silence continued, and you made your presence known. You were here to help the dwarves, nothing more and nothing less. You would accompany them to The Misty Mountains, but you would not step foot into their sacred lair. Not out of respect, but out of the sheer disgust you had for the dwarves.
Not even Eru could force you to enter their dwelling; it seemed as if death was the better option.
The journey there was not an easy one.
And Thorin didn't make it any easier.
He'd pass sly remarks every so often about you, try to demean you in front of everyone. He was constantly fighting a battle to ensure that you were beneath him in every aspect, despite being one of the most skilled elves to traverse Middle-Earth.
"Ah, it's best not to anger (Y/N), Thorin," Gandalf would quip from the background, wanting to ease the tension.
It did nothing.
There was an instance where you had left the group to gain more ground and a safer pathway for the dwarves through the forests.
Yeah, biggest mistake ever and Thorin wouldn't stop nagging you about it.
Those stupid trolls had gotten to them and Bilbo had managed to stall them long enough before Gandalf used the sunlight as a weapon.
"I left for one day... forgive me, I was merely trying to secure a safe path," You hissed at Thorin as he shoved past you.
"A safe path will only do if the company itself is safe first, elf," He spat, glancing over his shoulder. You so desperately wanted to spear your blade through his heart.
The rest of the trip resumed its unsteady silence. You glared at the other dwarves, not wishing to say anything to them. Occasionally, you'd offer a helping hand to Bilbo.
That didn't go unnoticed by Thorin. He didn't really like Bilbo as much, but compared to you? Bilbo was far better, and the stupid burglar was mingling with the wrong person.
However, his concerns of Bilbo shifted to his two nephews - Fili and Kili.
While they still harbored some resentment towards you for being a Sindar Elf, they were still young. They were naive, they did not experience that devastating day when Thranduil's forces abandoned Thorin's desperate cries for help.
And so what did they do?
They talked. Talked, and talked. Especially, Kili. Fili would add a joke once or twice, but if he ever caught Thorin's watchful eye, he'd gulp his words and nudge Kili to quit.
And then slowly, one by one... the dwarves were opening up to you.
Balin was more sympathetic, he was a very kind and wise dwarf. You actually enjoyed his presence.
Bofur was a bit reluctant to talk to you at first, but slowly came around. You noticed this when he asked you if you needed more food on your plate when you were dining in Rivendell. That was enough to tell you that perhaps there could be friendships between the dwarves and the elves.
You saved their asses a couple times, especially with the Goblins. Killed some orcs led by Azog. And then watched Azog brutally wound Thorin.
And then something switched in you. For a moment, you felt your breath hitch at the sight of him, dazed and unconscious. Something began to stir inside of you, and you couldn't place your finger on it. It almost felt... unworldly.
And that feeling continued... even when you ended up facing Thranduil, who was so puzzled at the fact that one of his own kind was helping those dwarves...
"I am repaying a debt that I owe to Gandalf," You explained, your head jutted up high into the air.
"What a terrible way to repay it, (Y/N)." Thranduil grimaced, "If you wanted an opportunity to keep yourself occupied, you could've turned to Legolas and he would've found you a wonderful position among my kingdom. We could use elves such as yourself, you know."
"Ah, but I could not say the same for you," You bit back, noticing the way his eyes widened at your audacity.
Word of your defiance quickly spread to the dwarves as the elves guarding them gossiped about it with such eager interest.
It fell onto Thorin's ears.
He almost thought they were lying to him. He couldn't believe it.
And as you passed Thorin's cell to enter your own, much farther away from the dwarves, you noticed something different about him.
He was smiling at you, a twinkle in his eyes. He seemed... proud? Ecstatic?
When the company and you had escaped via the barrels, you had almost hit a rock down the river. It was surreal to see the way Thorin's hands stretched out to warn you.
It seemed as if he cared.
You took a daring risk to climb off the barrel to kill some orcs, almost slipping across the branch in the process as you jumped back into your barrel.
"Be careful, elf!" Thorin cried out, "You could've gotten yourself killed!"
"And what does it matter to you?" You snapped, furrowing your brows.
He did not respond.
He did not need to.
Because you sort of knew the answer by the way he glanced back at you with a soft smile.
You mattered to him.
More than reclaiming the Mountains? The answer was obviously no.
But when you climbed up and watched him excitedly open the hidden entrance to the inside of the Lonely Mountains, his eyes flashed towards you for a split second.
As if he was waiting to see your reaction as well.
And when you gave in and smiled.
With or without the gold, the Arkenstone or the throne,
He felt as if he was the richest dwarf to ever live.
You mattered to him.
He mattered to you.
And thus began, the love between an elf and a dwarf.
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mydearesthrry · 1 year
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honeyed bliss - h.s.
a/n: hi! here’s another one. post hslot harry, and dadrry, which should be a warning in itself. enjoy!
🎀 warnings/cw: nothing, fluff, ITALYRRY AND DADRRY. im a wreck.
🐇 pairing: husband!dad!harry styles x fem!reader
💐 wc: 800
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“Babe, can you come here? I need to tan, but I can't get the tanning lotion on my back.” Y/N shouted sweetly to her husband, voice soft as she turned on her tummy. 
“Yeah m’love, give me two seconds. ‘M cutting up some watermelon for Daisy.” He called back, standing at the drink bar, a knife in his hand as he watched his daughter toddle around in the small area that he stood in. Daisy knocked on the doors that were in the square, knocking on the door to exit as she babbled quietly to herself. 
“Mumma, want mama,” Daisy pouted, perking up when she heard her moms voice. She stumbled a bit when she turned around to look at her dad with pleading puppy dog eyes, her axis of gravity not perfect quite yet. 
“Oh, y’want mama, baby? Okay, let’s get y’to mama.” Harry plucked her up off the ground and hiked her up onto his hip, scooping a couple blocks of watermelon into a yellow bowl. Harry pushed open the door to the drink bar, walking over to his wife who was laying down on a beach chair. His wife turned onto her side, reaching out for her baby who was already squirming in her dads arms. 
“Hi baby! You wanna come lay down with mama? Wanna sunbathe?” Y/N turned on her mom voice, babying her daughter. 
“Mama, mama, mama,” Daisy giggled, patting her mom’s face, a wide smile on her face, looking almost identical to Harry down to the dimples. 
“God, H. I can’t believe I birthed her, held her in my stomach for months, the whole nine yards, and she just looks exactly like you. Like, not even an inch of me in here. She’s got her Daddy’s curly hair, pretty green eyes, and cute little dimples… Don’t you, Dais?” She smiled, turning onto her back to place her baby on her thighs, Daisy’s head coming up to rest on her knees, her legs laying on her torso. 
“Guess so, m’love, but don’t worry, she still loves her Mumma waaaay more than her Daddy.”  Harry comments, munching on watermelon on the beach chair next to you. She turns her head to him and raises an eyebrow, and he smiles sheepishly. 
“Sorry,” he scratches his nose awkwardly. “I didn't mean that.” 
“Good, y’know she loves you just as much as she loves me.” She gave him a stern look, and he could see her eyes through her sunglasses. 
“Yeah, I know. Bad joke, didn’t land. Tough crowd, eh?” He smiled sheepishly. 
“Mmm, guess comedy isn’t for you, hm? Better stick to singing, pretty boy.” Y/N muttered before bringing her baby up to her chest, pressing small butterfly kisses to her head. 
“M’sweet girls, prettiest girls ever,” Harry grins, pulling your phone from underneath the throw pillow your head was resting on, snapping a few precious pictures. “Can’t believe ‘M so lucky.” 
Twisting his back to look behind him, he reached out to switch the bowl of watermelon for the camcorder, turning it on and recording his wife and daughter, a wide grin plastered on his face. “Today is July 26, 2023, a couple of days after the final Love On Tour show, and we’ve just gotten home to the Styles Villa in the Amalfi Coast of Italy. Here we have Mama and baby bunny in their most rawest forms,” Harry narrated, a grin on his face when he heard a sweet giggle emit from his wife’s chest. “Baby bunny’s sporting a cute swim set gifted to her from her favorite uncle, Uncle Alessandro, and Mama’s wearing a Gucci swim set as well, looking as beautiful as ever with the most beautiful and glowy skin-”
“H, shut up!” She guffaws, placing an embarrassed hand on her face. “Dais is gonna watch these one day and be scarred by the way you’re talking about me.”
Harry turns the camera so it’s on his face, “Little Daisy, if you’re watching these right now in the future, never settle for less than how I treat Mama. Y’deserve to be treated like a queen, m’soul, never ever settle for less.”
He flips the camera around again to face his girls, catching a tail end of YN’s eyeroll on camera. “Yes, sweet girl. I agree with Daddy, never settle for less.” She places more sweet kisses on Daisy’s head, cooing with Harry when a soft snore leaves their baby’s lips.
“Well, since y’asleep now, I think that’s a good place to leave it. We love you, Daisy. Byeeeee!” Harry waves, turning in his seat to have the camera face him and his small family. YN giggles and blows kisses, waving until Harry turns off the camera.
“We’ve got it good, Lovie.” He smiles, leaning forward to peck a kiss to her cheek, her temple, and then one on her lips, being cautious of the sleeping baby on her chest.
“Yes, we do.”
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dqrkoholic · 1 year
Text
"If you win, you can do whatever you want to me." - Park Sunghoon
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WARNING: smut MDNI !!! Jealous biker bf!Sunghoon x fem!reader, cursing, oral (giving and receiving), face-fucking, fingering, scratching, making out. Tell me if there's more!
SUMMARY: Having a racer boyfriend wasn't always sunshine and butterflies, especially when he had enemies. And when one night, attending the nth race of the week, no one expected Sunghoon's enemy to arrive and challenge him to a betting race, you being one of the bet. And when Sunghoon agreed to it all, you couldn't believe him, but it didn't stop you from giving him the best motivation for the race - him doing whatever he wants to you for the night if he does win.
A/N: HELLAUR! i know i haven't posted at all in a very long time, and I'm very sorry, but I'll try and post every time I'm free. With all that said, remember English isn't my first language, and I'm sorry if there are any mistakes or typos! Hope you enjoy <3
WORD COUNT: 3.4k
masterlist!
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The sound of loud roaring of motors filled your ears, and the whole street where bikers were all scattered around while more were arriving.
It was some minutes after midnight, and you and your racer boyfriend were attending another race for the 3rd time this week. Your boyfriend was a racer, and he was the well-known Park Sunghoon. Everybody knew his name. It was no secret that everybody was afraid of him and that nobody could've beat him at his own game, and you were lucky enough to date him.
You didn't know how it happened since the two of you were quite the opposite, and a lot of girls were up his ass that matched his style, yet he still chose you. You, because you weren't like them and you were something else, as he says.
You were dragged by Mia to one of these races because she wanted to support her boyfriend Heeseung, who was surprisingly in Sunghoon's team. Her bringing you along resulted in you awkwardly bumping into Sunghoon, who was mesmerized by you the moment his eyes landed on your face and body. You wearing he tightest skirt that day and the way your shy voice let out the most softest 'sorry' really made him feel blood rushing down his dick, making it painfully hard and making it hard for him to forget you.
And now here you were, at his, actually fun bike races. His hand around your bare waist as he leads you through the crowd of people before you both end up in the area where the bikers are with their teams, all of them greeting Sunghoon as he passes by them.
You both approach his team. Your team also, as you are now one of them. Never being left out at any hangouts and always by Sunghoon's side. You got along with every single one of them, which made it even better for you to fit in and make Sunghoon very happy.
"Hey Park!" Jay smiled as he dabbed up Sunghoon. Sunghoon returning the smile as they side hugged. "Hey, pretty girl!" Jay smiled at you as you playfully rolled your eyes. Hoon didn't get mad on the other hand since it's a small joke in the group. It was no secret that Sunghoon was jealous and possessive of you, a lot, but he did not mind this interaction whatsoever.
"Aye, Hoon, watch your girl! Mr. steal yo girl is on the loose." Jake said as he greeted both of you and Sunghoon. You all laughed, and Sunghoon got pulled by the guys on the side as Mia pulled you next to her. Being Heeseung's girlfriend, she was almost always here as you.
"Those punks, I swear to god!" She rolled her eyes at the group as you both laughed. "Is Hee racing today?" You asked her as she handed you an energy drink. "Mhm. He's right after Sunghoon. He's going first, did you know?"  "Who? Hoon? No!" Your eyes widened at her words. "Yes... I thought he told you." She looked at you as you shook your head, looking over to where Sunghoon was standing and almost immediately catching his eyes staring into yours, smirking as he looked at you up and down, eating you up. You felt as if your legs were almost gonna give up on you, like all the time he's looked at you like that.
After a while of talking, the guys approached you and Mia as Heeseung pulled Mia aside, and Sunghoon caged his arms around your waist, pulling you towards him in the process. "Are you trying to kill me in that skirt, hm?" He asked, more like, whispered against your neck, his face nuzzled in it. Maybe wearing a pink checkered skirt and some high knee socks, topping it with an off shoulder white top and Sunghoon's black ass leather jacket wasn't a bad idea.
You giggled as your hands travel to his platinum long locks, softly pushing it back before placing at the nape of his neck. "No, but I'm only wearing it for you, so..." He moved his head from your neck and looked at you with dark, lust-filled eyes.
And before he can open his mouth, both your attention was was in the direction of where a loud motor noise was coming from. 
Shit, shit, shit, SHIT! Just amazing!
It was Sunghoon's biggest rival and his stupid little group full of pussies. They just had to ruin Sunghoon's mood on fun races like it was a daily routine for them. You call it obsession. Who wouldn't be obsessed with your boyfriend?
Sunghoon groans, rolling his eyes and straightening his posture, his hands still around you, holding you close. "Don't pay attention to them!" His voice louder, making sure the group hears him and not cause a scene, minded their own business, but sadly that cut short as Nicholas approached with a shit grin on his face.
Sunghoon lets out a breath of anger and turns to look at him, standing in front of you and pushing you behind him. "Came to get your ass beaten again?" Sunghoon says cockily, mentioning the last time they raced against each other.
Nicholas lost and got the beating of his life from Sunghoon because he side eyed you before even starting the race.
Nicholas chuckles and gives Sunghoon a dirty look before looking over his shoulder and right at you. "Don't be so confident about tonight Park, I'll make sure you get what i got last time." He replies, which only fumes up Sunghoon more. "Your eyes, Nicholas, you want them gone?' Sunghoon asks as he steps closer to him. Nicholas' laugh doesn't make Sunghoon any less mad as it also makes all of the people around want to take turns beating his ass.
"How about this? You win, you get whatever you want from me, and you won't see me again." He says, and Sunghoon doesn't react, just listens to him and waits for him to continue. "Now if I win..." He trails off, and his eyes once again trail back to you. "I get her." And that's when everyone thought Sunghoon would knock him out, but he doesn't react, making you furrow my eyebrows in confusion. "And her too." K says behind Nicholas as he points to Mia, who is standing next to a furious Heeseung. "I'll end you fucker!" Heeseung yells from behind and pulls Mia closer.
"Deal."
"Hoon, what the fu -" Heeseung yells once 6 as Sunghoon raises his hand for him to shut up, he does. You couldn't believe your ears, lowly whispering a 'what'. What is he thinking?
Nicholas smirks and moves back to his bike, leaving you furious. The group and you turn to face Sunghoon, who hasn't moved an inch from where he stood.
"SUNGHOON WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" You turn him around as you start hitting his hard chest before he grabs both of your wrists and stops your movements. "I won't give you away easily, love. Do you think I'll let you in his dirty hands? And my best friend's girlfriend too?" You shake my head, looking into his dark orbs. Suddenly, an idea popped up in your head, and a sudden feeling of boldness washed over you.
"Well then, if you win, you can do whatever you want to me tonight." The sudden boldness vanished as the words leave your mouth. Sunghoon grabs your hips, slamming them against his, grabbing a fist full of your ass, whispering a low "Fuck." And you only smile up at him. "Go." You say and he kisses you deeply before going over to his bike. Heeseung and Mia appear besides you and all of you watch the scene in front unfold.
After a small stare down between Nicholas and Sunghoon, both of them put their helmets on as they start their engines, and the loud place become louder with the sound of their engines roaring and roaring.
"I want her to give us the sign to start." Nicholas points to you, and you've had enough of his bullshit. Grabbing the flag from the girl's hands and stepping in the middle of both of them, you slowly raise your hand. You send a flying kiss to Sunghoon. And finally, you lower the flag. Both of them had sped off behind you before your hand lowered fully, cheers starting to go off. Quickly returning to where you stood before, your eyes were only on Sunghoon and his bike as he speeded off even more, a little far back from Nicholas. You curse under your breath, feeling tears build up in your eyes.
He won't let you go just like that, Y/n, it's okay. - You thought to yourself feeling Mia hugging you, your eyes still on the racers that were now with the same speed and next to each other. Your whole body was shaking as Sunghoon sped up even more than before. The roaring was probably heard through the whole city. You all would be lucky if police won't show up after this.
Cheers were getting louder and louder as they were halfway done with the race, Sunghoon leading, relaxing you and the whole group, knowing nothing could go wrong.
Or could it?
Before you know it, Nicholas played dirty as he hit Sunghoon's bike, and Sunghoon completely lost control. "SUNGHOON!" You scream, looking at your boyfriend struggling to stop his bike from falling and losing control, watching him swerving left and right. Tires were leaving black marks on the street behind him.
"GOD, NO, NO, NO! PLEASE, SUNGHOON!" "SHIT, SOMEBODY, STOP HIM THAT'S AGAINST THE RULES!" Heeseung yells as he rushes to the heads of these races to try and make them realize the situation.
Everything felt as if it was in slow motion. All watching Sunghoon finally lose control, and you closed your eyes to not see your boyfriend fall. Everything you've feared from was literally happening now, and you felt dizzy, ready to lose control over yourself and run to him.
Hearing Mia scream beside you, you knew he fell, but as you hear her starting to cheer right after, it made you open your eyes, seeing your boyfriend back on track and completely fine.
Your soul fell back into place as you started chanting his name. Sure, Nicholas was so close to winning, but you still had hope in your boyfriend. You always did. And before Nicholas could even get to the finish line, Sunghoon grabbed his pocket knife, throwing it perfectly at the back of Nicholas' tire, making him lose control now. And with a small hit of Sunghoon's bike, Nicholas fell as Sunghoon passed the finish line.
The whole crowd burst into cheers as you ran to him while he took his helmet off, jumping into his arms as he spun you around happily.
"I KNEW YOU'D WIN!" You kissed him as he held you tightly against himself, his hand under your plush thighs, squeezing them. "God, i love you so much." He says before setting you on the back of his bike, kissing your forehead before walking to the guys , quickly discussing something with them and returns with a smirk on his face.
You see Heeseung sit Mia at the back of his bike before him and the rest take Nicholas and K in the small forest, and you knew what was gonna happen next. Sunghoon fastly drove to his place, parking the bike, however, in his garage. He picks you up in his arms again, hands under your thighs and his lips on yours. His lips never left yours as he unlocked his door, and you both traveled around his house. You being pushed against every wall he could've pushed you against and soon after, finally, you reached his huge room, and he sets you down on the bed gently. 
"You're mine, only mine." He growls, his lips ghosting over yours, teasing you. You whine and try to bring him back into the kiss by pulling him down by his neck, but he didn't even budge. "Say it, love, come on." He whispers.
You gulp and let out a whine as you feel his finger trail up your leg down your thighs and finally on the wet material of your soaked panties. "Yours, sir, I'm all yours. No one else's,  just yours." And with that, his lips capture yours in a more hungry kiss, his hands finally undressing you aggressively, only leaving your knee high socks on.
Moans leave your mouth and into his as he teases your bud before pinching it, earning a squeal from you. "That's it, let out those sounds, Just for me." His deep voice sent shivers down your spine as your body was squirming under his much bigger and buffer one. "Stop fucking moving before i tie you up, doll." He says with a soft but scary tone, making you even wetter than you already were.
His finger slowly moved from your clit through your slit gathering as much slick before the tips of his fingers started teasing your entrance, driving you absolutely crazy.
Want him even more now. You bucked your hips up and let out the most angelic whimpers and moans. "This pussy is mine. Only I can fuck it, understood?" His other hand travels up to your throat pressing around it, cutting the air ways, arousing you even more.
Letting out a gasp, escape past your lips as his two fingers entered you, moving at a fast pace, not even letting you adjust to it but didn't complain. Who were you to complain about the pleasure he was sending through your whole body? You couldn't even form any kind of words, too lost in the pleasure that was now building up an orgasm, feeling your stomach tighten. "Fucking hell you're dripping baby, shit." His eyes were where his fingers were being swallowed by your pussy. And the more he lowered himself against you, you could feel his bulge grow more and more.
You smirked and brought your knee to rub against it, pressing onto it, earning moans and groans from him. His eyes dart to your face and his hand tightening around your throat. "Oh, you're teasing, huh?" He asks cockily and takes his fingers out, leaving you a whiny mess under him.
"You wanna play? I'll play too." His deep voice could've made you cum right then and there. He sits you up on your knees as he gets off the bed and unbuckles his pants throwing them away before grabbing your hair. His other hand was busy stroking his length, bringing it to your lips after. "Wanna get out of a hard punishment, doll?" You nod your head as you know that there was no staisfaction whatsoever in his punishments.
You don't take your eyes off his length in front of you, and his hold on your hair tightened more, making you look up at him. "Then stay still for me, okay doll?" He asks, and you let out a whiny 'yes' before opening your mouth for him, inviting him in.
He hisses as his length felt the warmness of your mouth and before you could do anything, he started abusing your throat, fucking your face the way he wanted.
You, on the other hand, gaged and had tears dripping down your cheeks together with spit from the sides of your mouth, too.
Sunghoon didn't hold back with being vocal this time. He wanted you to know how much of a good girl you are for him, and so he was letting out the most heavenly sounds, feeling himself getting closer and closer to his high. "F-fuck, doll, you make me feel so good. You're doing so good, my good girl." He moans out before you feel your throat being filled with his warm load. After a few more thrusts from him. He pulls out, and you swallow his load, sticking out your tongue to him. "Atta girl, that's it." He strokes your cheek and wipes the dried tears on it as he leans down and kisses you, tasting nothing but spit and himself. 
Not pulling away from your lips, he lays you down on the bed again, letting his hands pull your knees apart and he starts trailing his kisses lower and lower on your body before finally landing a kiss on your bud.
You moan out as you feel his tongue playing with your hole, letting your hand grab his hair hard. His tongue is doing wonders on you, eating you out like a starved animal. But before you could come, he pulled away with a smirk.
His lips and nose covered with you essence when you looked up at him, making your cheeks heat up at the sight. "Sir, i wanna come, please!" You whimper, and he only chuckles, finding it amusing, bringing you in yet another kiss. You kiss back as a small make-out session starts, his hands roaming your body, your hands now on his back, under his shirt. He shortly pulls away to pull his shirt over his head before throwing it somewhere on the floor and returning to the messy kiss. Your nails softly scratching his now bare back.
You feel the tip of his dick touching your now sensitive pussy, rubbing himself against it, as you whine into his mouth from the friction between the both of you, your hips snapping up to get more friction, which was not enough for you. "So fucking desperate, my desperate doll, you'll get what you want right now." He says and strokes himself before entering you slowly, inch by inch, stretching you out perfectly as both of you let out a moan at the feeling. "Damn baby you're so tight. Don't i fuck you enough, hm?" He laughs as he knows that he always finds a way to fuck not matter what. His laugh was cut short from a groan ripping through his throat as he entered you fully, his whole cock inside your gummy walls, you could practically feel every vein inside of you.
You moan at his words before he speeds up his thrusts, pounding into you. The bed creaks with every harsh thrust of his as you roll your eyes back and tears slowly fall down from how good he was doing you right now. Maybe you should make him more jealous, and this time, you didn't even try. You gotta thank Nicholas for this.
His thrust only sped up, and your moans and his groans increase as both your highs approach. Sunghoon knew you were close once he felt you tighten around him, driving him over the edge and he brought his hands to your belly before pressing down onto it, applying more pressure, doubling the pleasure for the both of you. "Oh, oh, f-fuck sir, please!" You didn't know what you were saying anymore, only focused on the way his cock was hitting your sweet spot perfectly, making you drool. The feeling in your stomach was only building up with every harsh thrust of his.
"Dolly wants to cum? Then do it baby, make a mess on me, c'mon." His lips were marking your neck as his thrust started being sloppy, finding it hard to keep up his pace but he managed so, wanting to breed you as fast as he could.
"Fuck! I'm gonna fucking breed you so good, the only thing you'll feel is my cum oozing out of you, ah~" You only moaned at his words, wanting him to do it. "Say it, doll or i won't fucking continue," He slapped your thigh harshly, bringing you back from your thoughts. "Ngh~, please, sir, come in me, please!" And that's when the both of you came together, moaning and holding each other through the high. You coming around him as Sunghoon came inside of you, painting your walls white. The feeling of his cum filling you up only brought more pleasure to you, realizing you liked the idea of being breed by Sunghoon.
He slowly pulled out and before he laid next to you, he made sure to gather his cum that spilled from inside you and push it in again, saying 'We don't wanna waste it, now do we baby?'
You giggled as he finally laid next to you, scooping you in his arms. You were feeling like you were floating. This was probably one of the best sex you've had.
"You did so good, baby, my good girl." His words brought you back to reality as you smiled up at him and kissed him. You wanted it to be nothing but a small, innocent kiss, but Sunghoon, on the other hand, had other plans as he deepened the kiss, pulling you on top of him, straddling him.
"Ride me?"
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1K notes · View notes
pookietv · 3 months
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new territory | arthurtv
okay so this was written with the intent of being a part two to set up (which you can find here!) but it works as a stand alone so i figured i'd post it as is, but if you want to read where it originated please do! :)
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getting ready for a date with arthur, your best friend, hadn't exactly been something you had seen coming, though you most certainly were not complaining.
as you had been getting ready, slightly curling your hair and making sure it fell how you liked it to, you did feel slightly nervous, which felt odd to you - this was the guy who had seen you be violently ill after too many shots, or incessantly lazy and lying in bed or day, and now suddenly you were terrified if you didn't look good enough?
he had told you he would come to your apartment to pick you up, not telling you where you were going, only that it was out for food, so you had been left slightly confused on what the hell to wear, but eventually landed on a milkmaid style dress, waiting anxiously for the knock on your door.
and when the knock came, it took practically everything in you to not rush straight to the door and instead walk calmly, swinging it open as you were greeted with arthur, in a white shirt with a sage green button up left open on top of it, paired with black jeans, holding a small bunch of flowers, wrapped in brown paper with a grin on his face, and you couldn't help but look at him with a shy smile.
"hi, arthur! you, um, you look good," you said, and he laughed a little and quirked his eyebrow in response as he looked at you up and down for a moment.
"i'd argue you clean up a lot better," he said, "you look much different than when i see you in your pajamas all the time," he teased, before gently thrusting the flowers your way - tulips, your favourite, before continuing slightly awkwardly, "not that you don't look good in pajamas! just, you know, you look pretty."
his slightly gauche approach made you giggle slightly as you took the flowers from him, a slight blush spreading across your cheeks, "well, thanks, arthur! and for the flowers, too, they're really pretty," you said, before turning slightly with a pause, "i'm just gonna go put them in some water, then we can go?" you said, and arthur nodded, following you in.
you quickly grabbed a vase, filling it with water whilst arthur stood in your kitchen, turning to him with a smile as you placed them in the vase.
"so, am i allowed to know where we're going yet?" you asked him, and a smug grin played on his lips as he shook his head.
"can't you let a man have a surprise in peace?" he retaliated, and you rolled your eyes at him playfully, before he took your hand, his larger fingers intertwining in yours, and you must have been bright red at this point, thankful that he was instead dragging you out of your own apartment and laughing rather than looking at your pink face, and you couldn't help but acknowledge how normal it felt for arthur to hold your hand, and how much you quite liked it.
as you walked around london for a little, arthur assuring you it wasn't a far walk as you playfully teased him to make him tell you where you were going, with his strict half smile and assuring you that you were the most impatient woman he had ever met, you arrived to a small restaurant, a japanese place that you had been telling arthur you wanted to go to for a while.
"awh, arthur!" you smiled as he stopped walking in front of the place, holding the door open for you as you walked inside, the place small and authentically cosy, with warm lighting and oak brown tables, chairs accompanied by orange pillows as you sat down opposite each other at a table by the window.
"this whole you being nice to me thing is weird," you teased him slightly, causing him to roll his eyes once he had sat down himself, carefully shrugging off his jacket.
"hey, you know i'm the nicest to you," he said, a half smile playing on his lips as you raised your eyebrows in a joking manner.
"you're only nice to me 'cause i'm the one who knows your most embarrassing secrets," you cheesed to him, and his cheeks went slightly pink also.
he grinned, "like what? you have nothing worse on me than i have on you!"
"oh really? what about getting catfished by the same fake account three separate times? or being convinced you were going to be a magician aged thirteen?" you giggled as he shrugged his shoulders with a slight embarrassed look on his face.
"fine, fine. well, anyways, maybe you just need keeping on your toes, and that's why i tease you," he mused.
"is that what you call this? keeping me on my toes?"
he leaned in, mock conspiratorially, "maybe. or maybe i just wanted an excuse to flirt with my very pretty friend,"
"well, mission accomplished." you laughed slightly, your stomach tightening slightly at the compliment as your voice softened slightly, bashfully grabbing the menu in hopes to look down so arthur wouldn't see you reddened face.
"so, what do you think you're fancying?" he asked, gesturing to the menu, and you quirked your head a little.
"well, i always get miso soup, so probably that... but i'm stuck between the gyozas, rainbow rolls, or california rolls," you explained, and his lip curled into a soft smile.
"well, what about if we just order one of each and share?" arthur offered, and you looked up at him with a small smile.
"sounds good to me," you said sweetly, "that is, if you don't mind racing me before i scoff all the sushi all together,"
he scoffed in return, "hey, you've seen the way i can inhale my food, i think you've gotta worry about me finishing it all," he joked.
once you had both placed your order, you found yourself slipping familiarly into the way you and arthur had been, the familiar banter that you and him had always ricocheted against each other, although now there was a slight undercurrent of electricity or flirtiness, conversation being batted back and forth as the food came.
"you do look really pretty today, though," arthur said as he took one of the sushi rolls, "i know i said earlier, but i really like that dress."
"well, thanks, it's kinda new-ish, i haven't worn it much," you said as you also took a bite of your food before giving him a slight smirk, "did you have to practice that line in a mirror?"
he chuckled, shaking his head. "i'm afraid that was my god gifted flirting talent," he joked, "although i have been practicing the magic tricks you so despised,"
"god, not the magic tricks," you laughed, "i think i will be forever scarred from you joining the school talent show and dropping your entire deck of cards everywhere."
"yeah, i can't say that i don't still occasionally keep myself up at night dreading all that attention on me," he snickered.
"well, you've always had my attention, if that helps. i just didn't really realise it." you said, feeling a little embarrassed as the words left your mouth, looking up to see his eyes lit up in the most adorable way as his eyes were fixated on yours.
"well, i'm glad to know i've been on your radar, even if it did take you far too long to realise," he grinned, his eyes a mix of affection and amusement, "and you know you've always had my attention, anyways."
"you certainly know how to make a girl feel special," you teased.
he chuckled slightly, taking another bite of his sushi, "that's the goal, right?"
"well, its working," you grinned at him, and his slight smile grew, the warm ambiance of the restaurant giving his already kind eyes a gently looking glow.
"you've always got a way of making me feel better, don't you?" he murmured, the smile tugging at his lips only getting wider.
"well, maybe. but i've also gotta keep you grounded with all your confidence, no?" you giggled a little, and he nodded, the sound of his laugh warm and familiar as he replied.
"trust me, you do a great job of that too," he said, his hand gently brushing your fingertips from across the table, "but, seriously, i am really glad we're doing this. feels right, i think."
you nodded shyly in response, basking in the comfort of his thumb rubbing against the back of your hand.
the rest of the night passed in a blur, much to your disappointment, the nervousness that you had felt of the prospect of the date melted away as it grew easier to be romantic with each other. as he walked you back to your apartment, his hand had found yours once again as you walked back, his fingers intertwined peacefully as if they belonged there.
once you reached your door, you turned too him, not an unfamiliar sight to see arthur walking you home, but under the new circumstances, your stomach felt warm.
"thank you so much for tonight, arthur," you said softly, smiling up at him, "it was amazing, really."
he smiled, his thumb still brushing against your hand.
"pleasure was all mine. i'm glad you had a good time, or our friendship right now would be in a very awkward situation," he awkwardly joked, and you giggled in return, before he continued, "so, we should do this again? the uh, not just friends going out thing?" he said.
you nodded, a shy smile on your face, "i would love that."
as he leaned in to give you a kiss goodbye, it was only more confident and assured than the previous one, and you kissed him back, a unique feeling of comfort and a familiarity you were beginning to grow.
"so, what about that documentary marathon this weekend?" you grinned up at him, and he laughed in response.
"only if you can promise not to fall asleep half way through," he retorted with an eager nod.
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randombush3 · 6 months
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a sense of coming home
ona batlle x reader
summary: part two of this! ona and you are (frustratingly) still just friends
words: 6.5k (i have NO idea why i waffle so much but lets pls allow it)
warnings: there's like five secs of smut at the end
notes: this has been the most self-indulgent fic i've written because this is how i met my gf and so i am glad to show you a nice happy ending
again, the quote is from 'this side of paradise' (said gf's fav book - i don't recommend however because the protagonist is a twat)
also i didn't proofread bc i am exhausted and i am hungover and i am very ready to go to sleep (#globetrotting is not for the weak) x
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There is something difficult about forcing oneself back to their toxic roots. Ona discovers as such as she presses her body into a temple of meaningless sex, but she does so because she is a driven person. Ona is determined to get over you, once and for all, except she’d quite like to stay friends (hence why she agreed when asked). She also thinks it would expose her to fall out because her feelings shouldn’t have existed anyway, so she technically shouldn’t be heartbroken? 
Anyway, Ona rampages through Manchester! They appreciate her accent – some even ask her to speak to them in Spanish when she is three fingers deep inside of them, to which she obliges with little fanfare – and it isn’t like the city lacks queer women. It is a super solid way to keep her busy, to tear her attention from hungrily checking your Instagram whenever possible. 
It’s also what lands her with coronavirus. She’s embarrassed to admit just how many people she has come into contact with when the club doctors ask her questions over the phone.
You send her a lovely message after hearing she is yet another fallen soldier. 
Ona is at home, isolating, and you are apparently trapped in Spain, unable to get into Italy. You haven’t quite made it to your parents’ house since your flight was supposed to depart from Madrid. “How come you’re not on the phone to one of your ‘connections’?” Ona asks suspiciously, wondering why this call has lasted longer than ten minutes. “Surely someone knows someone else and they can get you back home.” 
“I’m hardly out of my depth in my own country,” you remind her with a twinging sigh, pained that she has suppressed all memories of your childhood. “It’s not like I don’t speak Spanish.” 
“Didn’t you get rid of it in your head to make space for Italian and English? Oh, and French too, right? That’s where the fashion weeks are.” 
You laugh at her pride for knowing something about your job, but it is not to ridicule her. “I am speaking to you, aren’t I?” 
“In Catalan,” she points out. “Forget Spanish, but don’t forget Catalan.” 
“I can’t. It’s the language everyone uses to tell me about how fucked you’ve been lately.”  You take in a deep breath, uncomfortable with Ona’s silence but knowing your piece needs to be said. “Are you aware of what happened a few months ago? Why I missed the wedding?” One of your friends met her dream man and he whisked her off to Menorca for a small ceremony. Only the people she loved the most were invited, which included your childhood friend group. “We were in New York, a whole bunch of us. It was late but the show had been a big deal so we went out to celebrate, and… these ‘friends’, these people, they aren’t the same as you and me. Most of them are English, you know, and they come from very fancy schools where addiction is normal. Two of them ended up in the hospital that night – the bag hadn’t even made it round to me by the time they’d dropped. I know it seems far-fetched, but all I’m trying to say is that addiction has consequences. Bad consequences.” 
“So you’re not on my side?” Ona isn’t taking this too seriously. A few people have joked about her questionable new hobby, but no one has made it seem so dire that they have needed to get you involved. You who, of course, Ona will listen to. 
“I am always on your side.” 
That is her main take-away from the conversation, Ona chooses, when it ends an hour later. She swoons, meaning the last twenty women have been a waste of time, but she also tortures herself into ignoring the potential problem. Being a sex addict would be embarrassing, so she won’t be. 
Though your subtle shaming for her abundance of quick-fix flings is hypocritical, Ona would also hate for you to see her that way. You can avoid commitment all you like, but she is determined to be different to prove to you that she is a viable candidate, should you wish to stop stringing her along. It’s probably toxic; it probably means that you are both clinging onto a friendship that should either end or be labelled something else. It probably is the push and pull that has kept you interested, Ona thinks, because she knows that you like the chase. 
However, as much as she’d like to be freed of whatever game she is caught up in, she can’t seem to let you go like that.
… 
The next time Ona and you have a proper conversation about something other than how your love lives have been stunted or how people back home are not as successful as the two of you is when most of the restrictions have been lifted. 
You waited out the pandemic in Vilassar de Mar, much to your annoyance, but now that you can travel again, the first person on your mind to visit is your childhood best friend. You’re not as close as you used to be, having drifted further during even more years apart, but it does not dull your love for her, nor hers for you. 
Ona has changed her mind about Manchester and is forcing herself to like it. It works enough for a visit from you to be the last thing on her mind, and so she slows her response time down until the next arranged date to see each other in person is all set for the summer before the Euros in England.
You’re not quite home but you are in the country, and, with the pre-Euros camp in two days, Ona is spending the final few hours of calm left before the storm in the comforting presence of her mum and dad. 
And… you, apparently. 
“You weren’t supposed to be here yet,” is Ona’s greeting when she opens the front door. 
Your smile is wide and genuine, and you are holding a gift bag in one hand. There is a nice bottle of wine in the other. “Not even an ‘hola’?” When no reply comes, you swallow the emotions that have arisen; the ones that are maybe, just a little bit to do with how soft Ona looks with her hair down. And the slope of her jaw. And the ghosts of defined biceps that bulge even when she isn’t flexing her arms. “I’m dropping by to see your parents. I thought you were in Barcelona with your footballer friends.” 
“You visit my parents?” asks Ona curiously. 
“Of course.” 
With that, you side-step her and call out to her mother, announcing both your arrival and your desire to hand them their gifts. Dinner is just about to be served, and Ona is soon tasked with setting another place at the table for you as though the last ten years had never happened and your friendship hadn’t lost its innocence. 
Maybe it would be better for Ona to not know what it feels like to kiss you, to touch you, to – dare she think it – love you. It would certainly make things less painful, and would have saved her from catching at least one illness and spending a good amount of money on Ubers to escape from random apartments. It would make it easier to listen to you talk about your life in Milan, where you seem to exist in a bubble of incredibly attractive people who are desperate to hold hands and form a raft. 
“Modelling can be brutal,” you agree, nodding at Ona’s father as you follow on from his concerns about your career. He voices them regularly; whenever you see him. Ona realises you have spent a lot of time with her parents without her. “It gets quite competitive between the girls so I’ve been somewhat avoiding them. They’ve brought in someone new, scouted from Germany, I think, and I’m a little worried that I’ll have to switch agencies if they start prioritising her.” You glance at Ona, wanting to know if she is listening, hoping she is. You wish that she were as good at suppressing her feelings as you are. You wish she didn’t look at you like you hung the moon, because you know that you have to tell her you have hung it for someone else. “I’d move tomorrow, to be honest, but I’ve started seeing this guy and he’s convincing me to stay in Milan.” 
“The minute he is your boyfriend, you bring him here,” commands Ona’s mother in a tone she hasn’t yet used on her actual daughter (said daughter has never mentioned anyone before). “Show us a picture of him! Is he a model like you?” 
He is, and if Ona holds her fork tighter after she sees the photo you pull up, that is her business. You secretly take in her clenched jaw and furrowed eyebrows, and this might be the worst thing you have ever had to do. To see her so defeated, so hopeless, is upsetting, especially since you are harbouring the same feelings. However, you are able to admit when it is time to throw the towel in, and you can no longer live like this. 
Ona is too perfect for you. She is driven, hard-working, and funny. She likes to nutmeg little children on the street, and she likes to buy them an ice-cream if they slip a goal past her, slotting the flat footballs into imaginary nets and celebrating as though they have just won the Champions League. She knows a lot, more than she thinks she does. She cares about people, but sometimes it manifests in anger, in frustration. 
Any aspect of her is an aspect that you could love, and that is reason enough not to. Because how can you allow yourself to taint such perfection? 
But, in this unspoken rejection, the compliment is obscured from the recipient’s view. All Ona sees when you gush about how he buys you flowers and takes you out to dinner, is a burning, bright question. It flashes red and yellow, both as a warning and cry for attention. How can she compete if you don’t even recognise her as a competitor? 
“--And then they proceeded to finish a film they were halfway through as if it were the most normal thing ever,” Ona rants the minute she hits the concrete of Las Rozas, walking into the facility with Aitana and the other girls who travelled with her from Barcelona. Only the midfielder has been gracious enough to listen to the entire monologue, but the others joke that that is because Ona’s emotional state has led her to spiral in her native language. It is forbidden for them to openly speak Catalan in the Spanish camp, according to Jorge Vilda, who loves to hurl a ‘we can send you back to where you came from in an instant’ their way if he so much as hears a ‘bon dia’. Naturally, Aitana doesn’t give a fuck about the rule, although Ona chooses to believe that she is listening because she cares.
“Are you done?” Aitana asks thoughtfully, sucking on her bottom lip as she tries to absorb her friend’s crisis and formulate a valid, sensible response. The two have known each other for a while now, and Aitana remembers a time when Ona was relentlessly teased by their older teammates for being in love with her best friend. It is clear to her that those feelings never ceased, though she has heard through the grapevine (Leila Ouahabi) that you are now a model and you live somewhere in Italy. You’re part Italian, is what Leila also claims, having professed your ethnicity to a small huddle of fellow gossipers one day in the gym at the Barça training facility. 
“No! Nothing is ever done with her. It’s viscous and it continues in a horrid cycle that has me flapping around in circles like some idiot. I am one of her boys.” Ona groans dramatically, the sound perhaps a little too loud. A few of the girls in front of them turn around to see why a cat seems to have been strangled, but they quickly lose interest when they see it is just Ona and her disastrous situation. “Do you know how fucking humiliating it is to be one of her guys? I am a professional footballer! I play for Manchester United, one of the most historic clubs in the world, and I am about to represent my country in a major tournament. I am successful, Aita, and yet I am still not enough for her.” 
“Maybe she only likes men.” 
“A man has never made her scream like I have,” she bites back. Aitana blushes, but Ona is too far gone in her rage to hear her crudeness nor preserve her friend’s sanity. “She’s been like this since she decided she was gay! Isn’t that hilarious? ‘Ona, I think I’m gay’, she said. I know lesbian breakups can be hard, but there is no way my cousin fucked her up to this extent.” 
“I can’t help you with this, Oni,” Aitana laments, sorry to have to confess this to her friend. “I think you need to talk to her about it. A proper conversation to fix long-term issues, not like the ones you obviously had when agreeing to stop having sex and things like that. Only she knows what she’s thinking.” It is definitely not the advice Ona wants to hear, but she cannot deny the midfielder’s wisdom. “But for now, we focus on winning.” 
You are more than a little confused. 
To start from the beginning, Ona’s cousin fucked you up. She broke your heart, and that first impression of dating girls was incredibly traumatising. With girls, you don’t just kiss and sleep with them, you get close – really close – and then when you break up, it is like you have lost both a girlfriend and a best friend. 
Men are a lot simpler. Men like you and they aren’t shy about it. They can sometimes be just as cruel, but you have never felt invested enough to care too much. 
Some nights, you don’t fall asleep, tossing and turning between your sexual identity, aware that you don’t need to label it but desperate to… discover yourself. If you don’t understand that part of you, how will someone else? How can you be loved? How do you even know who you want to love you? 
For as much as Milan is great, it definitely doesn’t help you with your crisis. Girls in Milan like to do what they want. It is not uncommon for the models to kiss each other in clubs, in front of appreciative male gazes or not, and then reveal their engagement to their future husband the very next day. It’s easy to be drawn into such a bubble, but the minute you step out of it, you are hit with the real world. 
It’s what makes the pandemic so distressing for you personally, because you are forced to live like normal people for some time. Your eyes are held open and the question is shoved down your throat, and it really doesn’t help that Ona’s cousin never moved out of Vilassar de Mar. 
She sees you one day, saying hello from a suitable distance as you pick up milk as per your mother’s request. “I heard you’re modelling?” she asks with no agenda, no seductive glint in her eye. You notice the ring on her finger, and she feels the heaviness of your staring. “Oh, I got married a year ago. Did Ona not tell you?” 
You realise that you and Ona try to avoid talking about anything other than the love interests you have. “No, she didn’t. Congratulations, though. She’s a lucky woman.” 
“You don’t have to pretend you’re happy for me,” laughs the woman opposite you, amused and somewhat apologetic. “Look, I’m really sorry for how I acted when we were younger. I was definitely not the most mature person out there, and I know I hurt you.” 
“I cried for months.” 
“I’m sorry,” she repeats. You suck in a deep breath, trying to hold the memories of your pain at bay. “The first breakup is usually the worst but at least it gets better, as you probably know.” 
She looks at you expectantly, awaiting your confirmation. It never comes. 
“I haven’t dated another girl since,” you tell her, sounding rather detached from yourself. 
Her eyebrows furrow and she is clearly frowning behind her facemask. “What about Ona? I thought you were together when you lived in Madrid. It takes more than a friendship to do what you did.” 
You were originally going to go to university in England. It was your dream, and Ona wasn’t entirely aware of the situation because you hadn’t wanted to tell her you were leaving. Then she was sent out on a professional contract to Madrid, and it wasn’t like you were the only one leaving. 
Ona’s cousin, years ago, had suggested that you go to Madrid if you wanted to get away from Vilassar de Mar. “You’ll be close enough to come home when you’d like, but not so close that you’ll feel as though nothing has changed,” she had said. 
No one had known about your offers in England aside from your parents. And Ona’s cousin, who’d only found out because you had called her, drunk on celebratory champagne, because you had to tell someone. 
“You gave up a dream for her because you didn’t want her to be alone.” 
“I moved to Milan. In the end, she was alone.” 
“You sound like you regret it,” she replies, nodding once at you to bid you farewell and then heading over to a woman who is standing with a puppy in her arms. You watch as she pulls down her mask and kisses her wife, her eyes shining with love and happiness, and your blood runs green with jealousy. 
You hate Ona’s cousin for devastating you once more. 
Do you regret it? 
It’s unclear. 
You try to make sense of it when you don’t hesitate to fly back to Italy the minute you can, going home to lick your wounds at Ona’s non-committal response to meeting you when you are in London the next month. It hurts that she is no longer at your beck-and-call, but you are somewhat happy for her. You know that lines have been crossed and that she has suffered for it. You know that you are probably the one at fault here. 
This time in Milan, you don’t fight it as much. You kiss other girls and let them go home to their boyfriends; you submit to the thing you had convinced yourself you would never become. 
As you drive yourself deeper and deeper into your stereotype, the thought of Ona gets pushed away and newer, more culturally-acceptable fantasies come to mind.
It takes a photoshoot for him to ask you out on a date. 
It takes returning home and gaining the approval of Ona’s parents (who are far more open than your own) for you to agree to be official. 
You don’t ask Ona what she thinks. She’s busy, you reason, because she is representing Spain at the Euros. She won’t care who you are dating and she certainly doesn’t need it rubbed in her face. 
There are many reasons why you go out with him. 
One is that you do like him; he’s nice, he’s funny, he treats you well. (He’s not Ona.) Another is that rent is going up and him sharing the load is helpful. (He’s not Ona.) There is also that he is very popular within the agency, and your chemistry on camera is enough to keep your jobs rolling in and casting directors satisfied. 
He’s not Ona. You know that. 
That's the whole point. 
If he were Ona, you’d be deeply in love with him. If he were Ona, you would never leave the house, never leave his embrace, never leave the little bubble created when it is just the two of you and no one else. If he were Ona, you would be excited about the conversations he gently guides you into; marriage, children, where you are going to live one day. You’d miss him more when he isn’t here. You’d care. 
But you just… don’t. 
Another year passes, more Ona-less than the last, and then she is suddenly coming back home to Barcelona, a medal around her neck and word of a relationship floating above her head. 
You could ask her about it if you wanted to because she is still one of your closest friends, but the truth is, you really, desperately don’t want to hear it. While Ona has been falling in love with someone else, you have been proving your stupid feelings to yourself. 
The act (your current relationship) lowers enough for you to go home for Christmas. You leave Milan as though fleeing from a hurricane, and you refuse to control the damage until you have entered the new year. Your parents aren’t entirely sure they want you moping about the house, confused how someone so successful can revert to a moody teenager the minute they are back in safe territory, and they heavily encourage you to accept an invite that was extended out to you a few months ago. 
Your friends are going skiing in Andorra, and they’d like for you to come with them. 
“Ona won’t be there,” one of them regretfully informs you. “She said she doesn’t want to make things weird. She has a girlfriend – or, I don’t know, a talking stage. She wants you to have fun.” 
“But Ona and I are friends,” you try to explain, feeling exposed by the look of pity she gives you; the same look someone receives when they find out their ex has gotten married or something similar. As a defensive mechanism, you hastily pull out your phone and dial her number. Everyone watches you, now uninterested in their food as you dine and plan your holiday. 
Ona picks up on the third ring, escaping her dinner with Lucy and rushing into the cool, nighttime air of Barcelona. 
“Hi?” she says – asks – with raised eyebrows, wondering if you’re in danger. 
“You’re coming skiing with us, aren’t you?” 
Your friends hide their laughs behind their hands, surprised by how firm your tone is. You do not need it for Ona, because she does anything you say regardless, but they enjoy seeing this side of you. This is someone who has had to fend for herself in a foreign country. 
Removing the phone from her ear for a moment, Ona sighs, disappointed in herself. 
“Yeah, of course. I’ve missed you, you know.” 
Skiing is not something Ona is really allowed to do. As a footballer, her legs are what pay her wage. Career-destroying planks of metal are not the best way to spend the dying embers of the year. She knows that. She does, she swears, but she is so eager to go that Jonatan cannot crush her dreams. He tells her, “if you get injured your contract will be reviewed, Ona Batlle,” and she promises him that it won’t happen. Nothing bad is going to happen. 
It will be the first time she has spent more than a day with her childhood friends, and she is unbelievably excited. 
Lucy finds it adorable and makes it known, helping her pack for her trip, versed in what to bring because her sister skis or something like that (Ona can’t really focus on her almost-girlfriend's monologue). Lucy likes Ona a lot, and it makes her stomach flutter when she thinks about Ona and her friends talking about them. She’s sure her feelings are reciprocated, and she cannot wait for Ona to return to her in the new year, all smiles and lingering hangovers, and ask her to be her girlfriend. Officially. 
Your friends convene in the centre of Vilassar de Mar with two cars between you. There are ten people coming. 
Someone, most-likely trying to keep the peace, instructs Ona into one vehicle and you into the other. The drive isn’t too long, but you suppose that the tension is uncomfortable for those who aren’t accustomed to maintaining a friendship despite the weight of it. 
It’s five days, and you are determined to have fun. 
Ona is naturally good at this, although she claims it is her first time. You, living in Milan, are just as advanced. 
By the third day, the both of you agree that going off together to do some of the harder runs will be harmless. Spending the day together won’t feel like a date or a romantic holiday. Watching Ona glide over the compacted snow won’t be attractive, watching her cocky smirk as she scales the bumps along the side of the piste won’t do anything. 
It won’t. (It does.) 
And it just has to be the third day that someone pulls out two bottles of tequila and a drinking game that is going to ensure every single one of you is off your face by midnight. 
In rooms opposite one another, you and Ona call your respective partners and tell them about how great a time you are having, actively avoiding telling them about who you spent the day with as though it counts as cheating. It doesn’t, technically. Nothing has happened. But, still, it feels intimate and secret; forbidden. 
Then, there is a shout that rings through the house. Everyone comes to the table; the party has begun. 
Ona finds out that she is absolutely terrible at drinking games, and loses in every way possible. 
You find out that she is still just as touchy when she is drunk. 
Your friends try not to comment on it, all having agreed upon yet another passive role in such an irritating situation. Their non-interference almost ceases by the time Ona climbs onto your lap, head turning as she whispers something into your drunk ears, making you laugh privately. In fact, someone has to hold someone else back before they shout at the two of you to make out or break up. 
But it’s not really necessary, their prompting, because it hits a certain hour and… nothing else matters anymore. 
Ona has been touching you the whole night and you have finally reached your limit. 
Boyfriend be damned, you lead her to your bedroom. 
She asks you many times if you still want this, and you cannot think of anything to say other than ‘yes’. 
You’re not as drunk as she is, and you both know that, but everything feels so perfect and right. 
When you wake up the next morning, your anger is more at yourself than the sleeping woman beside you, but she is an outward target for such a boiling emotion and it just makes things easier. 
“Ona.” You shake her awake, not caring for her hangover. “Ona, I can’t believe we’ve done this.” She rubs her eyes, dazed and confused for a moment but coming to her senses soon enough. “I have a boyfriend, Ona, and… I don’t like you like that.” 
It’s not true. 
It’s really, really, really not true, but the fact that you have said it is enough for Ona to leave your room with the intention of never seeing you again. 
She gets the train back to Barcelona, turning up at Lucy’s flat in floods of tears, and barrels straight into those strong arms with the intention of never mentioning what she has done. 
You break up with your boyfriend a month later. Or rather, he breaks up with you, tired of being messed around, tired of your hesitation to fully commit. 
The break-up is not the most upsetting thing you’ve been through, but your ego is a little bruised.
You try to make it look like you are having a great time in Milan, even though the agency has once again discarded your file and overlooked you for shoots you used to book in an instant. You try to seem like things aren’t falling apart, but it’s of no use when your father calls you and tells you that your mother is ill. 
It isn’t cancer but it’s similar, and you know that you need to come home.
You pack your bags and leave without a second thought, because maybe Madrid was far enough. Maybe there is a reason Ona signed for her home club again and most of your friends still live relatively close to their parents. 
Maybe you are not meant to be separated from those you love, because running away is futile if you are always going to end up together again. 
In Barcelona, a modelling agency eagerly draws up a contract with you. Although you are from there, your career being based in Milan previously creates an international allure about you (or so they say), and you are assured that work is going to rush towards you as though someone has just knocked down a dam. 
Your job is secured, your mother begins treatment, but there is something you cannot shake off. 
It hurts to think of Ona, to think of how you left things, but it helps, too. Seeing her face in your mind is comforting. You hear her voice as you drift off to sleep, and you let it soothe you in your dreams. 
“Ona has a girlfriend,” her mother tells you when you next visit them. Her frown is unexpected because all she has ever wanted is for her children to be happy and loved. “It’s not right, it doesn’t feel right.” You begin to shrug your shoulders and crawl into your shell, but she interrupts your thought process; “I think you should go see her.” 
“Why?” 
The woman rolls her eyes. “Just do what I say.” 
You nod because she is so scarily sure about it, and you… It’s hard to believe, but you call Ona. 
She picks up. 
“I was sorry to hear about your mum.” 
“Don’t worry. She’s fine.” 
“Are you back at home?” 
“Yeah, I am.” You pause. “Well, not quite. I’m living in Barcelona.” 
Something fizzes in the air; pops, crackles. 
“Need me to show you around the city?” 
And it’s Ona, so how could you say no? 
Your visit goes very well. 
She takes you out to dinner and shows you around her neighbourhood. She introduces you when she runs into people she knows, and she is insistent about dragging you to her football match on the weekend. 
Everything is seemingly forgiven and Ona is intent on integrating you back into her life. 
She wants you to feel at home, though she knows you should already, and she wants to lessen the stress of hospital appointments and death and, if not death, then a difficult recovery. 
You are sitting in her apartment – now devoid of all signs of Lucy – on her comfortable sofa, watching something together after a day of walking around and sealing up the cracks that formed in Andorra.
Sitting leads into cuddling and then into wandering hands that eagerly roam underneath layers of fabric.   
Ona’s breath hitches as you brush the hard lines of her abs, your hands particularly drawn to them and just how strong she has become. “You must have only felt them on men,” she offers as an explanation. “How many have you slept with in comparison to–?”
And your hands stop.
“Sorry,” Ona mumbles, seemingly upset at her outburst. “I’m just curious. I can’t work you out.” She can’t quite look you in the eye, mainly due to the logistics of your position, but she isn’t sure she wants to see the truth attached to her statement. 
You question if that’s a good thing, the fact she needs to ask; the fact that she has no choice but to communicate. It was going to happen sooner or later. “A few,” is what you settle on. Ona leaves it at that, carefully pulling the hair tie from your plait, unravelling it with one hand as the other rests against your stomach in an embrace. You smile. “You’re not going to ask who?” 
Her fingers stop for a moment. “No.” She speaks so quietly, her voice almost a whisper in your ear. “I don’t care about them.” You relax into her more, feeling her against your back, feeling the softness of the blanket against your feet as it hangs at the edge of the sofa. 
“Who do you care about, then?” 
“You.” 
Carefully, both her hands hold your hips and she sits you up, smiling as she does. You tell her she’s showing off, she replies that you are always showing off. To that, you brush those hands from your sides and lean down to kiss her, more decidedly for once; more in control. It’s a surprising feeling for both of you, the forcefulness. Urgency. Not unfamiliar, but unexpected for this time on this day. 
The last time you kissed Ona, you had a boyfriend. 
Your mouth goes to her neck as soon as she decides that she wants her hands back on your hips, pushing you down into her lap. It’s now a competition, you think. She’s quickly coming completely undone by your kissing and biting, but you are not ignoring the feeling as she makes you grind down, makes you need that friction. “Fuck,” you moan in her ear. She grips you tighter. 
You start to pull off her shirt having had enough of the grey between you, asking if it’s okay, if she’s sure she isn’t too tired. Her reply is, “take it off, god,” and then the removal of your clothes that get thrown just shy of the wine glasses set out on her coffee table. Leggings aren’t the most practical for impromptu sex, but she’s quick and smooth and someone who has definitely done that before. 
With your bare chest on display and almost nothing between Ona and you, she lifts you up for a moment with the intention of flipping the two of you, getting you on your back. You pause for a moment, trying to decide if she’s doing it because she wants to or because she thinks that’s the only way to do it, but her hands are moving now, up your sides, round the front of your chest and you relax. She laughs quietly, amused, because the tension dissipates, dissolving like sweet, sweet sugar in hot coffee as soon as your legs wrap around her back. 
Ona asks before she does it, picking you up and laying you back down without needing to part her lips from your own. You watch her as she sits up, body in between your thighs. “You’re going to just stay there?” She shakes her head. “I can top,” you tease, a stark contrast from how it was the last time you did this. Ona doesn’t like being told she can’t do something. However indirectly. 
“Yeah?” You nod, biting the smirk out of your lips. “I don’t care.” 
You are in the process of rolling your eyes when her cocky mouth is put to good use. Your underwear was taken off at some point earlier — you hadn’t realised. Ona’s head moves between your legs, up and down, your hand that isn’t holding onto the sofa in her hair, the soft waves lacing between your fingers. 
She’s good at it; thorough, practised. Her tongue circles your clit for a moment before dipping into your entrance. Something about the cockiness of her movements, her tongue, her hand rubbing between her own legs, makes everything more surreal, more blissful. She moans softly, lips kissing their way up your body, hands no longer focused on herself. Instead, they take the place of her mouth, two fingers inside you as quickly as it takes for her to ask if you are okay to carry on. Your reply (“yes”) is cut off quickly by her mouth on yours, tongue swiping at your bottom lip in another question of permission. You can taste yourself on her. 
At her command, you sit up, letting her pull you back onto her lap as she sucks at your neck. “Don’t leave any marks,” you warn as her teeth pull a whimper from your supposed stoicness. “I don’t want the makeup artists asking questions.” It comes out too late, because you feel her teeth graze your collarbone quickly, not painful, no, but something that feels so, so good. “Ona.” She sighs in disappointment and adjusts where you are in her lap, so your legs are either side of her thigh. 
You find yourself rocking slowly, letting her savour your breasts between her hands and her mouth. She whispers that she wants to see you come, that you don’t need to hold back – not with her, not ever – so you start grinding down, harder, faster. Her hands drop back to your hips, guiding your movements, forcing you to slow down when she feels everything building up. Each time, you let out a “fuck” and attempt to go against her grip to get that friction. “Not just yet,” she mutters, no longer touching you anywhere other than where her hands meet your hips and her thigh presses between your legs. 
“Fuck off, Ona,” you breathe, frustrated. “When, then?” 
She slows the pace even more. “Can you last a little longer?” You look at her face, brushing away the strands of hair that have fallen over her eyes, ghosting your fingers along her cheek, running your thumb along her lips. She smiles again, eyes creasing slightly. 
As her hands drop to cup your face, you say, “you’re beautiful.” 
Ona blushes. 
You look down at her exposed cleavage, nipples pebbled against the sports bra that is unusually low-cut. It might border on intense staring as you begin to grind against her with the intention of actually getting off now. She laughs, saying her eyes are higher up than that, but going back to her trail of kisses along your jaw nevertheless. 
For what seems like longer than a few seconds, the build up finally stops, the tower toppling over in a rush of pleasure. Ona’s hands move your hips as your head drops to rest on her shoulder. She talks you through it, telling you that you look so pretty, telling you that she’s so turned on. 
And that’s when she whispers it. 
It has taken years to get to this moment, many of them filled with unnecessary suffering. 
It has taken years but it does not matter. 
Ona tells you that she loves you and that is when you have finally come home. 
293 notes · View notes
pedripics · 2 months
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Pedri via Residency - August 8, 2024
Pedri had a double training session today 
How is your knee doing? - “Much better. Looking forward to getting started with the team soon”
How are you after starting your workouts? - “Tired, as it is normal in preseason, but happy with the recovery”
Does it feel weird without having your hair? - “A little 😜 but it's not the first time and I had to keep the promise. My mustache didn't last that long 😝”
What are your expectations for the season? - “The maximum. At Barça there can be no others, and on an individual level I hope everything is going very well”
How is your mum? - “Veryyyy well. Thank you ❤️”
How many sessions did you do to recover? - “I've been training practically every day on vacation”
Who is your best friend in the locker room? - “I say it a lot of times, I get along well with everyone but if I have to say one, well Ferran”
Nice vacation? - “Quiet, in Tenerife”
How was training with Gavi after long time? - “Very good! I am happy to see him do better”
“Barcelona is a great city without a doubt”
How many football games did you play growing up until you were 16? - “Well, I couldn't say... one a day, or more, if they count the games on the court and with friends hehe”
Did you watch the Olympics? - “Yup… a lot”
He really wanted to see USA-Serbia in a bit 
How do you deal with hate from others? - “I try to stay away from bad comments, as well as from high praise. The best thing is to be calm and listen to the advice and comments of the people close to you”
Would you like to retire at Barça? - “Do you want me to retire already? you already know that I have been a culer since I was a little kid”
When are you returning? - “There is little left. Let's see how the next training sessions are going”
Do you recommend me to visit your familys restaurant? - “l always do... and I always will. Delicious and homemade food”
I hope to see you next year at the new Camp Nou - “Have no doubt, my friend!!”
How did your friends/family react to your haircut? - “A little bit of everything. Jokes but also people who told me it looked really good on me 🙃”
Pedri are you going to let your hair grow? (Say yes please) - “Yesss. It's not the time to go bald yet”
Do your think a lot about the climate change? - “Well, it worries me. Like all young people. It is important to think about the future of the planet and that’s why i am ambassador with Kick Out Plastic”
A lot of people give their opinion about your beard, either to let it grow, or to cut it, but what do you prefer? With or without? - “I liked seeing myself with a beard, but without it l'm very comfortable. Maybe in the future I'll let it grow again”
Best part of football? - “Enjoy doing what I like doing the most”
Do you want Quevedo to return to music? - “Quevedo is a phenomenon... and above all canarian 🇮🇨” (admin agrees)
One of his friends named his dog Pedri 😂
Do you recommend visiting the Canary Islands? - “I am obliged to do so! My land is incredible”
How many kids do you want in the future? - “Well, more than one... but it's too early for that”
Pedri do you want in the future come to Poland? - “Why not? Let's see when Lewy invites me 😁”
Are you excited for your birthday??? - “Well... there's still a lot of time left”
Do you have pets? - “No. Maybe in a few years, a dog”
How is learning English going for you??? and what other languages would you like to learn? - “Let's see if I improve my level in September”
Do you go on TikTok a lot? - “Quite a lot, yes. I laugh a lot at some videos and I also find out a lot of things out  on there”
How do you feel about the new Barça kit? - “I love it”
Prove that you’re not AI - “In the previous chat they already told me something similar. Pedri 1-0 AI”
Who can cook best in your family? - “My mother… without a doubt”
Can you cook? - “It’s better if i don’t… It’s a good thing that my mother and brother are cooks”
People confuse him and his brother sometimes
Thiago? - “We barely met, because he was on tour and I was in Barcelona… I am looking forward to meeting him”
Do you like Olmo’s hair? - “😂😂😂 That question would be for my hairdresser. I like that he came to Barça, because we get along very well and I am sure he brings a lot of things to the team. We’ve already seen it at the Euros” (personally I think Pedri should announce all new signings)
Will Barça win a sixtuple again? - “Hopefully soon… Although it’s very difficult…”
Did you celebrate Gavi’s bday with him? - “Well I congratulated him and not much more because he had a day off in his recovery”
What did your day look like? - “training in the morning, eat, rest and train in the afternoon”
What do you think of Fermin at the Olympics? - “I am following the Olympic Games because I like to watch almost all sports… Fermin is being the key and I hope he will come back with gold”
How do you go shopping? Is it difficult because of all the people? - “It is very complicated, yes. Sometimes with my parents and brother, or with my teammates… but I also shop online”
If you could choose a football legend to play with, who would you choose? - “Iniesta obviously, because he is my idol. But for a little change, for example Pele”
How did you feel to reach the Olympics final? - “It was a great joy… Although I am envious of these Games because there couldn’t be fans there in Tokyo because of the pandemic”
Hidden talents? - “Not that I know…”
Are you playing on Monday? - “No, not yet”
If you weren't a footballer, what would you probably be? - “Firefighter... or waiter in my parents' tavern. Although one day I helped them and I realized that it wasn't my thing”
He hasn’t trained under Flick yet (duh)
Movie/ series recommendation? - “I'm finishing Game of Thrones. This is nothing new, but the truth is that it is very good!”
What do you like to do in your spare time? - “Being at home, mainly” (same)
How was your childhood? “Very happy! In Tegueste, with my family and friends, like any other normal boy”
Do you ever go biking? - “No. We are not allowed to either”
What do you think of Duplantis, have you watched it? - “What he did was crazy”
Your mum is the best she is such a cutie  - “Siii”
Tomorrow will you watch the men's olympic final ??? - “Yes, of course... and if I can, the women's match for Spain too”
Would you like to be the captain in the future? - “Of course I would like to”
What do you think about Asia? - “I know that they support me a lot from there and I would like to visit  in the future... now it's not easy, because the seasons don't give a break and on vacation I prefer to rest close to home”
It's not too complicated to be famous I mean do people always have to stop you for photos? - “It's not easy, but it's not something that bothers me. I try to give photograph and sign autographs, because I remember when I was little and I asked for it”
Is your favorite food bananas? - “My favorite fruit. I love food a lot, although some of them I can't eat now because of my diet. For example, I really like sushi”
Does your brother annoy you sometimes?? - We get angry, like all brothers... But he's a very important person in my life”
Favourite sport other than football? - “Basketball or padel, for example”
Do you look forward to the next World Cup? - “Of course... Although there is still a lot of time left. Now we have to fight to win the maximum with Barça”
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thewertsearch · 6 months
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Let's kick things off with a mega-giga ask compilation!
I've spent the last couple of days working through the backlog, and I've been able to answer some quite old asks that were spoilers at the time they were sent.
@kintatsu asked: So, I was rereading your blog, and got to the post where you determine that John's 13th birthday was a Monday, and complain on his behalf that he couldn't really relax due to having the whole schoolweek ahead of him. Well, I checked, and the previous day was the first Sunday after the first full moon after the equinox, i.e. Easter Sunday. So it might have been a holiday week.
John entered the Medium shortly after Easter Sunday, and he did so by biting into an apple. Forget about the god tiers – his most powerful transformation is clearly Catholic Beast Mode.
Anonymous asked: The thing about knowing your Aspect, I think, is that it's the Aspect you most GET. I GET Space and Light, I understand them completely, they are suffused in my bones and my blood, they are writ large upon my brain and every base in my DNA. What aspect do you just GET?
To be honest, I don’t think I know enough about any Aspect to ‘get’ it.
If I had to choose, then I'd probably feel the most natural affinity for Life and/or Doom – and if was forced to pick one, I’d say I'm very slightly more drawn to Life, just based on vibes.
@mhafanlol2000 asked: I think the horrorterror’s plan (or the closest thing we can comprehend) is CHAOS-by which I mean LIFE. Skaia is order. If it can want, then it wants its players to follow the script it has written-the Alpha. It wants propagation, the snake to eat it’s own tail, blah blah blah. That is order. That is perfect servitude. That is NOT life. The gods, meanwhile, want chaos. It wants its servants to live. It does not tell people to do anything. It simply gives them the facts, and says “here is what you should do. You can not, you can do whatever the hell.” It wants romance, conflict, CHAOS. that is life.
And if this theory is accurate to the canon Life aspect, then I feel justified in my affinity for it. It falls fairly closely in line with my own philosophy.
@necrowyrm asked: When searching your blog I always type "thew" before Tumblr autocompletes your URL. That has become who you are to me.. Thew, Glorious Liveblogger, navigating the treacherous seas of Homestuck
Sally ‘Thew’ Ertsearch, reporting in. 🫡
Anonymous asked: there's actually another arthurian joke to do with dave's land/quest. have another look at the disc platform that bro stabbed. how would you describe the shape of that turntable?
Ayy, Dave's a Knight of the Round Turntable! Honestly, that'd be a pretty great name for his theme song.
@caliquill asked: kanaya vs rose would be absolutely hilarious but. kanaya IS the original "I Can Fix Her" girl for a reason.
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Anonymous asked: the only real requirement for a name suggestion to be picked was that the firstname was 4 letters. but by really cool coincidence strider and lalonde are 7 letters, and egbert and harley are 6, and if you add those together its 4/13! similarly, both the trolls names were required to be 6 letters (i think hussie mixed and matched them actually, some of the firstnames were suggested as surnames and vice versa) so theres a similar case to be made for 6/12. but just doubling the same number i think holds less water than adding together two different numbers
Number symbolism is just very flexible in general. All Hussie really had to do was introduce a few 'important' numbers, and the fandom could start finding them everywhere!
Anonymous asked: This may be the wrong place to ask, but have you deleted your post of analyzing the Let the Squiddles Sleep song? I can't seem to find it anywhere.
Here it is. Hopefully you're able to see it now!
Anonymous asked: Will the Mega-Ask-Compilation and Liveblog Recap also happen? ~LOSS (19/2/23)
The former is currently taking place. The latter was planned, but after skimming my blog for a bit, I realized I didn't have as much to say about it as I thought I did. Plus, it's been ages, so I'm really excited to look at some new pages. We can leave the old ones for later - I'll probably do some sort of blog retrospective eventually.
Anonymous asked: i figure the trolls' battlefield went through a full set of dnd dice/platonic solids, plus maybe some other notable johnson solids like a truncated icosahedron (aka a soccer ball or buckminsterfullerene), before becoming a sphere. maybe the outer ring went through stages like simple torus, mobius strip, borromean rings or other fun knots, before becoming a mobius net. (not really sure what a mobius net is, mathematically, but that's apparently what the thing around the final form of the kid's battlefield is called.) or maybe something weird happens with that many prototypings, and the battlefield turns into a tesseract or a klein bottle or a menger sponge or a mandelbulb.
If you so much as look at the Battlefield created by the Gigasession, your brain will leak out of your ears.
@manorinthewoods asked: <3Dave, >3>John, >3oJade, <>Rose (by process of elimination) ~LOSS (5/6/23)
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I don’t think either of the girls have worn a playing card symbol. The leaf on Jade’s Wardrobifier does kind of look like a spade, but John’s already got that quadrant on lockdown.
Anonymous asked: Reading stuff about skaia on this blog reminded me of madoka, and made me consider that skaia might be like kyube and the other incubators and sburb is skaias way of keeping the unerverse from decaying
Reading this ask makes me realize that Rose is a near-perfect mark for Kyubey.
There’s only one way to save your session, Seer. Form a contract with me, and become a magical girl.
Anonymous asked: man. i dont know what i expected to happen when you found it. but for The Baby Is You to be liveblogged in less than 20 words during a post was not the way i expected it to go
I know it’s not technically part of Homestuck canon, but it really feels like Homestuck canon to me - at least to the same degree as Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff, and I liveblogged that.
Anonymous asked: begging (lightheartedly) for you to add posts like LOLCAT and "this guy's an orb" to one of the liveblog tags. they're pretty funny, and it's nice to see off-the-cuff reactions like that, haha. imo it'd be a shame for new readers to miss those kind of posts
Done! I sometimes forget to tag posts like that, because I usually just fire them off and forget about ‘em.
@captorations asked: “Give me a set of rules, and I'll analyze the hell out them, every time.” hello fellow doom player. hope you like the color green
Based on ~ATH’s association with curses, as well as Sollux’s programming hobby, I think there’s a decent chance that Doom relates to coding in some way.
Coding is all about rules, so perhaps Doom, is, in fact, the aspect of rules and logic. I'm not sure why such an aspect would be named 'doom', but it's been obvious for a while that these aspect names aren't always literal.
Anonymous asked: I’d just like to clarify some terminology because it seems relevant, but Aradia isn’t a red blood, she’s a rust blood
[The blood colors all have canon names: Aradia = rust blood Tavros = bronze blood Sollux = gold blood Nepeta = olive blood Kanaya = jade blood Terezi = teal blood Vriska = blue blood (I like cerulean better tho) Equius = indigo blood Gamzee = purple blood Eridan = violet blood Feferi = fuchsia blood and Karkat has no official blood name, but people usually call him mutant blood or candy-red blood - C ]
Oh, there are official names for each color? That’s going to be helpful to disambiguate each blood caste, especially when we really start digging into troll culture and biology.
Anonymous asked: I do believe the top-left ship on the wall - no, Karkat doesn't have red eyes. […] It's probably Vrisrezi, yes, but it could also be Vriskat.
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Yeah, I’m still not sure who this ship is supposed to represent.
They have Terezi’s eyes, but the hair and symbol look like Karkat’s. Plus, Nepeta hates this ship, which would make sense if it’s between her crush and someone other than her.
Honestly, my best guess is that it was meant to be Karkat, and the red eyes were just a mistake on Hussie’s part.
Anonymous asked: something I never thought about… is the blue blood sourced from equius or did he get a stock.
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Aradia has real blue indigo blood in her veins, and it almost certainly belongs to Equius himself. He could have got it from a donor, but I personally doubt there was anyone else he could ask. Equius feels like he'd be an outsider, even to other indigo-bloods.
Anonymous asked: vriska would be a good strider
Vriska Serket raised by Bro Strider would be the most terrifying character imaginable. I don't even want to contemplate what that upbringing would do to her.
Anonymous asked: Any piece of lore hussie writes needs to contend with the fact that hussie is resolutely committed to the bit. Hence all the words on how different trolls are being entirely blasted aside by 'and then they're just grey humans anyway lmao'
That's the price of admission into Homestuck, for better or for worse. Hussie quite clearly enjoys screwing with us, and we have to take everything we see in the comic with a huge pinch of salt.
Anonymous asked: I'll disagree a bit on the phrasing that Eridan forces Feferi to <> him because firstly she doesn't even seem convinced that he would commit genocide and secondly she dropped him super easily once the lusus-feeding is no longer necessary. While understandable, that doesn't suggest to me someone who is obliged by Eridan's aggression to pacify him. I think she has much more agency in this relationship (or lack thereof I suppose) than that.
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Feferi definitely had her doubts – but she must have believed that Eridan was dangerous to a certain degree, because that’s the basis of a moirallegiance.
Forced might not be the right word, but she certainly felt some amount of obligation to pacify him. She sure wasn’t in that relationship for the good of her health.
Anonymous asked: So, Vriska has a conversation with Karkat, where he says she seems to have blackrom feelings for Tavros, but that he doesn't think Tavros can even feel blackrom properly. Then she has another conversation with Tavros in which she antagonizes him, and he notices, but just kind of ignores it and doesn't respond emotionally. Then we see her make a huge dramatic redrom gesture and kiss him. She vacillated because he wasn't into her… incel behavior.
Yup. I’ve always held that Tavros never wanted anything to do with Vriska. He doesn't want to love or hate her - what he really wants is to live in a world where she doesn't exist.
Vriska’s refusal to accept this basic fact is one of the main reasons she’s decided to make his life a living hell.
Anonymous asked: I headcanon that troll blood is analog, but the empire culls non-digital colors because they make the troll race seem like a joke or something. Lol
If there were minor variations in blood color, the Empire probably wouldn’t want to acknowledge it, since the stratification of blood classes forms the basis of their society.
We haven’t seen any trolls besides our twelve (apart from Troll Will Smith) so we can’t compare the blood of two members of the same caste - but we can speculate. Human blood color is known to vary depending on its oxygenation level, and I imagine troll blood would reflect its current chemical composition in the same way.
Anonymous asked: Vriska must be seething while Karkat introduces the concept of quadrants to the reader. Imagine this basic and important facet of troll life, and you're just getting schoolfed it. (This message was sent on 20/10/22.)
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This was a fun bit of weirdness from early Hivebent, wasn’t it? In retrospect, it's kind of hilarious that Karkat decided to infodump to Vriska about the obscure, niche topic of… dating.
@sanctferum asked: According to his formspring, Hussie's self-insert's classpect is Waste of Space. He also briefly considers Huss of Lips. This is obviously not meant to be taken seriously but. since you asked @absinthe-and-alabaster asked: i believe hussie said somewhere that FedoraFreak's classpect was "Gent of Piss" Anonymous asked: (not sure if this is technically a spoiler but) hussie has jokingly said that fedorafreak's class is a gent.
If Dad Egbert was a Player, then the Gent class would be forced into canonical existence, as the only class that could possibly define him.
Anonymous asked: If Vriska's control does require the victim to on some level want to do the thing, then Sollux's insistence that you do not under any circumstance eat the mind honey could be something he developed in response to that incident. So that if she ever controls him again, she won't be able to make him eat it.
Wow, I never considered that. That’s a very good (and tragic) take, and I think I'm at least locking it in as a headcanon.
Anonymous asked: the official extended zodiac actually has… 288 signs, if im doing my math right? and also probably hadn't yet been conceptualized when that page was posted (the earliest known evidence comes from 2015). i don't know if any thought was put into the number or if it was just pulled from their ass, but there was a running gag in hussie's q&as where he repeatedly threatened us with a 10,000 page intermission focused on 48 squiddles, each representing a sign from the alternian zodiac Anonymous asked: I believe the troll zodiac is one of the few things in HS lore that was truly retconned, there’s actually 288 signs.
Move over, 48 Squiddles. I want to hear about the 288-player clusterfuck that actually gave rise to Alternia!
@manorinthewoods asked: wheee, you got to the first god tiering! this probably opens up a load of new things to say, so, first off: do you think you need to have a full echeladder to god tier? vriska implied so.
She never outright stated that it was required, but I still think it probably is. You generally need to max out your class levels before you can prestige.
@morganwick asked: Believe it or not, you're still in the "Homestuck could have updated RIGHT NOW" phase of the comic's release schedule. The break after the Equius-Aradia kiss aside, the hiati you've heard horror stories about didn't start becoming a thing until the end of Act 5.
[this was around page 3000. still true at this page though - C]
Hussie’s sheer productivity at this stage continues to astound. Could you imagine having that much creative energy?
Maybe Hussie just drinks twenty coffees a day.
Anonymous asked: as someone who is Normal about aradia it's an absolute delight to see someone dig into her character. she's so fascinating to me. (also, fun fact, a while ago tumblr voted her the coolest character in all of homestuck. so there's that)
Aradia’s awesome, and I still don’t think her death is going to stick.
Her ghost was perfectly capable of existing without a body, so there's no reason she can’t survive her new body's destruction.
Anonymous asked: feferi hasn't just woken up, she won't be stuck asleep until 3 hours and 14 minutes into the future! timestamps, yo
Consider this the first mark on my otherwise impeccable record.
Anonymous asked: does cat have a troll/kidsona? itd be interesting to see a full 4 player session in art
[No kidsona, yes trollsona, but even a picture of her would spoil stuff from Act 6 😆 - C]
What she said. It’ll be a while until we can meet KATYAA SCRENR.
@mhafanlol2000 asked: Hey! You can just call me Fan. In all honesty I’m just some guy who likes your liveblog. He/him. I’m gonna list some fan aspects, and I want to see what you think they’d represent, and what abilities they’d give Law Dreams Might Shape Flow
Ooh, more fan aspects! These were a lot of fun to puzzle out the last time.
Law would be the aspect of command, instruction and agreement. An example power would be giving someone a simple rule they're compelled to follow, such as 'don't turn around'.
Dreams would be the aspect of ideas, motivation and symbolism. An example power would be the ability to detect people's idle thoughts - the things they're not even aware they're thinking about.
Might would be the aspect of growth, conflict and evolution. An example power would be the ability to temporarily enhance someone's Aspect abilities, at the cost of making those abilities harder to control.
Shape would be the aspect of form, encapsulation and topology. Shapeshifting is the most obvious application of this aspect, but it's appropriate.
Flow would be the aspect of persistence, momentum and continuity. An example power would be the ability to 'continue' something that has recently stopped. For example, if your PC ran out of power, they'd be able to keep it running for a while. The longer it had been previously running, the longer they could keep it running.
@martinkhall asked: I think Bro might have been raised entirely by shonen anime and My Little Pony Friendship is Magical (the version that existed only in the heads of the worst examples of Bronys). And puppets. Puppets were definitely involved in raising Bro. Anonymous asked: "He has no known relationship with any of the other parents, but was definitely getting foreknowledge of Sburb from somewhere. I’m not even sure I want to know what sort of childhood produces Bro Strider." well. i mean. he grew up with Lil Cal didn't he? the clearly haunted puppet from the sburban dreamscape of derse? it was what he dropped to earth with. i feel like that might explain at least a small part of, like, whatever he had going on.
That’s true. I don’t trust that puppet one bit, and we don’t know what it was up to before the start of the session.
I still suspect that the thing’s still just as alive as it was on Derse, and is just choosing to play dead.
Anonymous asked: I imagine you might've already been told this, but when checking out your FAQ I noticed you described PS/PQ/FS as "not exactly canon" and that you're less interested in liveblogging them because one of your favorite parts is watching all the story come together -- without spoiling anything, I find it pertinent to mention that Pesterquest & Friendsim definitely contribute to the wider "canon" even though dubiously canon themselves. Definitely "part of the story" so to speak.
Yeah, we’ll have to see what comes of this. The problem is that I’m still fuzzy on what ‘dubiously canon’ actually means.
Hopefully that will become more clear as I’m actually liveblogging these tie-in materials – which I am planning on doing. Only time will tell how in-depth the liveblog will actually be, though.
@manorinthewoods asked: In my Sundered opinion, Bec Noir is the best character design in Homestuck. I can't think of any other interesting designs at the moment, other than some which don't beat him and are spoilers anyway (like LE's). Which design do you find most interesting, out of the ones you have? ~LOSS (22/9/23)
I definitely agree that BecJack has one of the best designs in the comic. Plus, Scratch is so weirdly intimidating for a cueball-head.
Anonymous asked: My favorite part of PKWU is just how pointy Gamzee's chin is. It's so… Defined.
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iT’s ToO lAtE, ErIdAn! I’vE AlReAdY DePicTeD MySeLf As ThE ChAd, AnD yOu As ThE SoYjAk >:o)
Anonymous asked: i need you to know ag canonically ripped off the sleeves on all of her shirts just to show off the robot arm
I believe it. I don't even need a source; this is just so true to Vriska's character that it's obviously correct.
@bladekindeyewear asked: If you and your ask screener decide that literary/external-media hero title examples without any details or explanation are alright to pass on unless they're too obviously revealing -- and those in and of themselves are usually in heavy dispute by classpect theorists -- I've long been of the opinion that Monkey D. Luffy and Peter Pan are the best possible literary examples of a Page of Breath.
All Pages of Breath must be associated with pirates. No exceptions.
Anonymous asked: unfun fact: the reason rose and jade dont have a lot of pesterlogs with eachother is just because their text colours were kinda eyestrainy together. thats it thats literally the whole reason!! god damn
Hussie: "I don't write Rose/Jade conversations because they’re hard to read."
Also Hussie:
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Anonymous asked: you have officially passed my second favourite flash in literally all of homestuck. it's all so well hinted at beforehand but it still comes to punch you in the gut nonetheless Anonymous asked: My favourite thing in this flash is how the name of the flash isn't John: Rise Up, it's JOHN. RISE UP. it's WV sending a plead to John to not die. My second favourite thing is the way the music remixes Doctor (The theme for LoWaS). Anonymous asked: [S] JOHN. RISE UP. is one of my favorite flashes in all of Homestuck. Savior of the Waking World is some of Toby's best work What are your thoughts on our first taste of god tier? @violetsquare111 asked: So glad you liked Savior of the Waking World! One of my favorites in the comic for sure. It takes a lot of ideas from another of Toby's songs, Penumbra Phantasm, a song that… never actually got finished or officially released. There's still various renditions of it though, and the HS collection links a couple of em. (Some people have speculated that Penumbra Phantasm itself was never supposed to be a Homestuck song, and might end up being used in Deltarune, which would be cool as hell) Anonymous asked: It's crazy to think that just about 12 hours ago John was wearing silly disguises to fool his dad and now he's dying to become a god.
God time!
I do think it was the most emotional flash we’ve had, on the strength of the music alone. Savior of the Waking World goes hard as all hell.
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Honestly, when WV started calling John a hero, and telling him to rise, it did start to give me some mild chills. Like, yeah – we know John’s a hero, but it feels extra special when it’s coming from someone who’s normally so irreverent.
@elkian asked: Welcome back, hope you're feeling better! I am losing it a bit over you IMMEDIATELY understanding how this coin flip sitch works, something about the narrative and reasoning doesn't match my brain so I've reread it multiple times with total understanding out of grasp and watching you dissect it halfway into the page is truly wild (delighted). Also feel like I understand it a lil better with your analysis.
Thank you! This message was actually sent the last time I returned from a pause, so apologies that I’m one hiatus late in answering it.
@royalvorpal asked: I just reread your entire blog in anticipation. Anonymous asked: This is such a good liveblog, I'm rereading it again and you are really letting me relive the pleasant parts of my middle school years. Reading this blog makes me feel like I'm back on the school bus talking to my friend about the newest update. Thank you for doing this 💛 Anonymous asked: That return page didn't have any sound, so misleading! (I jest, nice to see you're back.) ~DJ @manorinthewoods asked: Hahahah, we are BACK! Lovely, I've missed this liveblog. Most in-depth Homestuck liveblog I'm aware of, looking forward to the restart! ~LOSS (29/3/24) @popcornsalty asked: So excited to see you back!!! :D @chaosorchestrator asked: welcome back! It's good to hear that you're planning on getting back into it! I hope things have been going ok for you in the meantime! @necrowyrm asked: HAPPY 4/13 (OR AS THE ENLIGHTENED KNOW IT: 13/4) AND WELCOME BACK!!!!!!!!!!!
Thank you for your votes of confidence, and happy 13/4 to you all!
@rippledphysique asked: Just found this blog and devoured it in a few days. I am selfishly wishing you the best in health and life so that it may return one day… @elkian asked: Hey Sally! Just wanted to wish you well on the recovery, the plague is no joke and I hope you've been able to enjoy some kind improvement. And that 2024 will be kinder, as well. Anonymous asked: wishing you the best in your interim, hopefully you can get a better position where you're not prone to burning out! Anonymous asked: Hope you're doing ok!! I miss seeing your cool liveblog on my dash @kittycatttmattt asked: Poor girl… Got killed by the schedule
Thanks for all the well-wishes, as well. Really, it wasn’t the schedule that was the issue – I just had a lot going on in the background last year. That’s all over now, though!
Anonymous asked: yeah, Homestuck's back babeyyyyy - the site was crashing because of traffic and everything @calamitascalliope asked: You coming back from your break resurrected Homestuck's corpse hggfffdd Anonymous asked: i think this actually is the first time homestuck has updated since you started liveblogging lol - homestuck 2 has been inactive assumed abandoned since december 25th 2020. also happy slightly belated blogiversary btw - you've been delighting us with your journey for two years now! @heliotropopause asked: New Homestuck upd8 just dropped. Apparently. Anonymous asked: what are the odds that you start liveblogging again the same exact day that postcanon comes back from the dead? Anonymous asked: crazy news. so literally just today, october 8th 2023, hussie has officially given complete free license to the newly formed "homestuck independent creative union" (HICU) to create content and monetize it with the homestuck brand however they see fit, with zero creative or financial control from any corporations or even hussie themself, though hussie has said they're available for consultation whenever the HICU wants their input. the HICU seems to be made up of people the community largely has respect for, and the person heading all of this up is James Roach, who is one of the most widely respected individual who has been inolved in homestuck "post canon" (ie. after homestuck itself ended). nobody was expecting any of this, it's completely bonkers. hopes are looking pretty high for homestuck compared to where they were merely a day ago.
Throwback to the day I personally resurrected Homestuck.
Has anything come of this since, actually? I haven’t heard anything about this new comic – although I do scroll in the opposite direction any time I see a reference to Homestuck, so I guess it makes sense that I wouldn’t.
@corporalotherbear asked: What’s your favorite Pokémon?
Contrarian, that I am, I’ll instinctively gravitate to Missingno., if only for the nostalgia factor. Gen 1 glitches were my first real experience with pulling back the curtain of a game’s code, and taking a look at what lies beneath.
My favourite official Pokémon are Porygon-Z, Shedinja, Reuniclus and Metagross!
@heliotropopause asked: Breath/Light is an interesting one, because the ‘Mixolydian’ implies a musical theme, and I thought Time was the musical Aspect. Maybe it’s not that simple. They've all got a musical reference in the name- they are called fraymotifs, after all. Anonymous asked: The Fraymotifs are all musical references actually. E.g. Breath/Time is "Ivories in the Fire", the ivories in question being John's piano keys. A fraymotif is a battle theme. Anonymous asked: ivories in the fire is a musical theme, especifically a Rap term used by Snoop Dogg. So yeah it's connected to Dave Anonymous asked: re: fraymotifs: you pointed out "mixolydian", but that's not the only musical term there. feather "cadence", pneumatic "progression", even fray "motif" itself! hell, the building where you buy these things has an emblem with a crossed sword and music note! so i think this might be less a situation of "need to rethink time aspects association with music" and more "fraymotifs have a musical association also" Anonymous asked: if you look a bit closer at those names, (including the one "fraymotif",) you may realize that "mixolydian" isn't the only musical term referenced…. @galaxa-13 asked: You say the breath/Light Fraymotif implies a musical theme, but they all do! Fraymotif is a portmanteau of "fray" (to fight) and "leitmotif" (repeated musical phrase). Each Fraymotif name implies a musical theme.
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Dang it. Yup, they’re all pretty obvious references to music.
I wrote that post the day I was trying to wrangle our family PC into running the Homestuck Collection without lag, so I was a little distracted at the time. Please direct all complaints to Windows XP.
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fakeuwus · 1 year
Text
RECKLESS | lee heeseung
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now playing ☾⋆⁺₊🎧✩°。 reckless by madison beer
"how could you be, so reckless with my heart?"
⁺ ⋆˚ genre: idol!hee x nonidol/university student!femreader, pure angst sorry lol, established relationship
⁺ ⋆˚ warnings: cursing, lowercase intended, barely proofread, mention of i-land LOL, lots of dialouge and idk if thats even a warning but had to put it out there, use of nicknames like babe/baby, infidelity
⁺ ⋆˚ word count: ~1k
⁺ ⋆˚ message from nic: wanted to put smth out while working on my jay fic!! got inspired by this show i was watching called "the game" (dont watch it its like highkey misogynistic and a bit racist and just overall so bad 😭) i wanted to rewatch it bc i used to watch it as a kid and now i realize how bad it was skdkd. but basically the bf is a pro football player while the gf is in med school and a certain plotline in the show inspired this 😁 also this is my first writing piece so pls be nice and feedback is appreciated!
heeseung slowly opened the front door to the apartment you and him shared, trying to be as quiet as possible since you were most likely sleeping. once he made it in he tip toe'd his way to your guys' bedroom. "did you have fun tonight hee?" you asked, while sitting on the couch with nothing but the lamp on. heeseung jumps, "holy shit you scared me! baby what are you doing up? come on let's get you to bed."
he walks over and tries to give you a kiss. you turned your head down only allowing him to press it to your forehead. you were pissed. actually, you were beyond that. words could not describe what you were even feeling at the moment.
you get up from the couch and stand before him, "you didn't answer my question. did you have fun tonight hee?" heeseung is perplexed by your tone. you sounded... hurt? angry? annoyed? all of the above? he tried to proceed with caution, racking his brain of all the possibilities of why you could be acting like this.
"uh... yeah babe, i had a lot of fun tonight. sorry i stayed out so late by the way. you really didn't have to wait up for me, you're probably tired." he was hopeful this was the right answer. it's gotta be, right? all you could do was stifle a cold laugh.
why the hell were you laughing? what was so funny? heeseung can feel his heartbeat in his ears and his skin was turning hot. you had never once acted this way in all of the years you guys had been together. it may not seem like a big deal to others, but you had always been so caring and sweet towards him.
even when you guys were arguing, your soft voice never changed. this was new. this was scary. you had a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes now and it seemed like you were staring into his soul.
"yeah heeseung. it's 2 am," you say sounding almost condescending, "but no i'm not mad that you stayed out so late. i mean i WAS, but after someone sent me a little something i realized there are worse things to be mad about." suddenly your phone is shoved into heeseung's hands. his jaw dropped. no. there's no way.
"who sent you this?! wait no it doesn't matter baby you can't believe this can you?" he reaches out for you but you pull away and start walking towards the front door to gather your jacket and bag, "so you're not even going to try to deny it? huh. i guess my friends were right." it makes him sick how you seem so calm on the outside, your words and actions treating this like one big joke while he's freaking out. he'd rather you be a crying, screaming mess than whatever behavior you're exhibiting at the moment.
you turn back around to him, "you think i don’t know who you’re giggling with on the phone while i’m sitting in the room studying for hours? that i’m stupid enough to believe that you’re not making out with her in that video? that i’m blind enough to not see the heart eyes you two make at each other while in the same room?” your words drip with venom and they shoot heeseung straight in the heart.
he feels like the room is spinning and he wants to faint. he wants to go up to you and hold you and tell you that she doesn’t matter, that you’re the only important thing in his life. but that’s not what happens. heeseung is too wrapped up in the moment to admit his wrongs.
frankly, he’s disgusted with himself and at a loss for words right now. he wants to convince not only you but more importantly to himself that he didn’t do anything wrong. and so he does. what comes out of his mouth next are words he’d soon regret. “WHAT DID YOU WANT ME TO DO YN?! i’ve been so lonely lately because you’re so wrapped up in school and she’s THERE FOR ME. she’s been there when you weren’t. i wouldn’t have made out with her if YOU were at the afterparty with ME like i asked you to! we won four fucking awards tonight and i just wanted my girlfriend there to celebrate with me.”
and just like that, you snap. the jacket and bag in your hands are now thrown to the ground and heeseung flinches. “YOU ARE SO FUCKING UNBELIEVABLE! do you hear the words that are coming out of your mouth right now?! i told you i have an exam tomorrow there was no way i was going to that damn party.”
tears are blurring your vision and your breath is becoming uneven. you don’t even recognize the man standing in front of you. “i have a life too heeseung. while you’re out chasing your dreams so am i. do you even acknowledge the sacrifices i have made for you over the past five years? tell me, was she there for you when you first became a trainee? was she crying for you every fucking episode of i-land? was she there every step of the way supporting your career?!"
heeseung doesn’t speak. he doesn’t move an inch yet his brain is moving a million miles per minute. he knows you’re right. he knows that you decline going out with your friends so you can wait for him to come home from practice. that your life only revolves around school and him. and he’s so eternally grateful for you. his heart yearns to express all the love he has for you and that he fucked up so badly. he just wants to fast forward to the part where you guys work through it and everything is okay again.
but that time is never going to come because you walk up to him with a heavy heart, placing the promise ring he gave you all those years ago in his hands.
he stares at the pretty diamond that shines in the moonlight, the only thing illuminating the darkness that’s consumed the space you both once filled with love. “i hope she was worth it,” you say as you open the door and walk out into the cold night. leaving heeseung and all of the memories of your relationship behind.
© fakeuwus 2023 do not repost, translate, or plagiarize
275 notes · View notes
dtrghost · 1 year
Note
omg this is my first time requesting but TF141 with a reader whose love language is insulting them ( they probably insult her back 😭) thank you!!!
That is so me. Literally.
Synopsis: TF141 With a reader who just can't help but insult them, yes. This contains Johnny, Simon, Price, and dearest Kyle
Warnings: 18+ Content and references to smut, cursing, etc
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Simon "Ghost" Riley:
Now with this guy, it definitely goes both ways. At first he was confused and rather offended with the insults you threw at him, followed by your head falling back to laugh at what he thought was him. You noticed how he got upset and quickly reassured him that you meant no harm by it and that it was just how you showed you loved him. He found it weird at first, but he accepted it, knowing that he meant the world to you and simply followed along.
"Hey Ghost, maybe if you weren't so ass at shooting we wouldn't have to do this stupid training exercise." He huffed, rolling his eyes at your wheezy laugh as you put your sniper down for a minute, cackling loudly and hitting your chest to get some air into your lungs.
"Right, I hit your cervix pretty when I was fucking you like a slag last night." You gasped, both of your cracking up even more as you gently shoved him. Now, there's a downside to your language, because god forbid you crack a joke about him that he didn't like, especially when he was already mad to begin with, like after a failed mission, he'd be sure to let you know just where your bad mouth would get you.
"Just like that, my perfect little slut." He'd moan, fucking your mouth and forcing his cock deep into your throat as you gagged and choked around him.
"Put that dirty little mouth of yours to better use."
Johnny "Soap" MacTavish:
He didn't get mad, he first gave you a puppy look, thinking you meant the insults you threw at him. But when you took your time to explain yourself, he'd laugh it off and gave you the go ahead. Johnny had nothing to be insecure about, he was hot, he had money, and he was the youngest candidate to pass the SAS selection, so he took what you said with a grain of salt.
"Weird they call you soap, smells like you haven't used any in days." He just chuckled, wrapping his arms around you with a wolfish grin.
"Alright lass. I'll let you have that one." You had been right at the time, he just got back from a mission where he sat in the mud for god knows how long and then had to lug his ass to the landing zone in the rain. Don't get me wrong, he'll bite back lightheartedly, but he loves soaking up your love for him, even if it isn't the most conventional.
But when he's not having it, you get to see the less light, funny side of him. He'd been fucking you stupid, pounding into you madly with his hand wrapped around your throat. You begged for him to let up, your legs shaking as tears rushed down your cheeks.
"Sorry lass? Couldn't quite hear ya. Mind tryin' again for me?" And he'd squeeze tighter to ensure not a word was heard from you.
"This'll teach you to behave darling. Remind you to address your sergeant properly."
Captain John Price:
This man is a DILF. Hot damn. To be frank, he's a laidback captain. He's not going to overreact and threaten to dishonorable discharge you for insubordination and disrespecting a superior officer because you told him he had a small dick. At first he was a bit surprised how comfortable you were insulting him with his rank, but if anything he liked it. He liked a challenge, though it was an easy one for him.
"You never react ya know. Why is that? The rest of the team bites back and you just, take it." He chuckled at your observation, shrugging and shooting a quick glare at the man who almost took a sit next to you at the bar you both occupied.
"I know you like the back of my hand princess. The insults you throw at those soldiers are far different than the ones handed to me. It's love princess, all it is." He then relentlessly teased you about the deep redness in your cheeks which you countered with eye rolls and mocking faces, because he was right, and he knew that. He analyzed everything you've ever said and done to him, how your body reacts, how your eyes portray every intention and emotion you're sending him.
But, just like the rest. Sometimes Price had to fuck the brat out of you. You'd made a comment, and he was having a rough day.
"How's the sex life then? Old man like him able to keep it up?" Soap joked.
"Some viagra wouldn't hurt. Maybe it'd actually get me to the yellow brick road." DAAAAMMMNNNN. Was the essential reaction. Of course you drew back and told him you were kidding, but the tight grip he had on your waist was a tell tale sign that he didn't like what he heard.
"You sure about that love? Don't wanna take it back before it's too late?" He whispered huskily into your ear. He knew you wouldn't, he knew you liked being his dirty little slut.
"That's it. Taking your daddy's cock like you were meant to. You reach that yellow brick road yet love? fuck sure looks like it, you've made a mess all over m'cock already."
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:
You and Kyle fit perfectly, like a match made in heaven. It was like a challenge between the two of you on who had the better insults. He's incredibly intelligent, 500 IQ lookin ass. But sometimes you were just that much better, and he accepted that wholeheartedly, because at the end of the day, this was how you showed your love, and he wanted nothing more to embrace that.
Sometimes he'd even reward you. He'd get touchy (more than usual) and the day would end with him on his knees in front of you, worshipping your pussy and body like it's what he was made to do.
"I'm so lucky to have such a smart, clever girl like you. Fuck you're perfect in every way." And you were. Even if you could be the meanest fucker on the planet.
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And that's it!! I'm sorry if it didn't meet your expectations or you had something different in mind but based off what I've read this is what I think they'd be like!! Thank you for the request @angieisbroke and I hope you enjoyed <333.
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