#so those big feelings starting to come back? terrifying terrifying go away

[avpdpossum]

me: avpd is something i’ll have forever. even if i learn how to manage it and accommodate it, it’ll always be part of the way my brain works and i’ll always have to deal with certain challenges that come with that. i have no interest in trying to reach “complete recovery” because that would require fundamentally changing my brain, and i would rather stay myself and learn how to live a good life with the brain i have.

my avoidance: starts becoming more prominent again after a period of time where it was easier to live with, resulting in the return of a lot of feelings i’d gotten used to not feeling so strongly, because having an easier time for a while doesn’t mean my lifelong neurodivergence has just disappeared.

me:

[ghostedbunnie]

trouble comes in fours

tf141 x fem!reader reader wants to get rid of her ex and tf141 might have the perfect scare factor

imagine that your ex simply can't take a hint and keeps creeping on your social media so in a desperate attempt to get rid of him the only way you know is gonna work is to scare him off with a new guy. someone he can't even think off challenging.

on a night out with your friends you are venting out your frustrations about it. while you are in the middle of retelling the last time he tried to slide into your DMs the door to the bar open and you can feel the air shift.

the group of 4 guys walk in. most of them have to duck their heads through the doorway. when they settle into a quieter corner that seems to have a great vantage point to overlook the entirety of the bar your friend nudges you. "looks like 4 possible solutions to your problem just walked in."

your eyes go wide and you sputter out that there is no way. the thought of sending a drink to any of them is almost as terrifying as shoving your head into a tank full of piranhas.

the night continues and with every drink, your fear gives into curiousity. what's the worst thing they could do? bring it back? you can just leave before that happens. the alcohol and your friends chip away at you for few minutes before you gather up the courage. you honestly don't even know which one of them you're sending the drink to.

there's a loud pretty boy with a slightly overgrown mohawk wildly gesturing and retelling some story from the looks of it. when the dim light catch his eyes just right they almost glint silver.

another one but great deal calmer sits opposite, he has a killer smile with slight dimples. just the sight of those dimples could make panties drop.

next to him is a possibly older guy around 40s you'd wager, you can't see his face clearly because half of it is hidden underneath a hat and the other under a very impressive beard. but even from the little you can see the rug burn from that beard would definitely be worth it. simply based on the commanding air around him.

in the corner next to the loud-mouth sits a shadow. honestly in your slight drunk daze you almost missed him in his dark hoodie, pants and face mask. you don't see him drink but the drink in front of him does magically disappear anyway. and whenever you turn around from gawking you swear you can feel someone's stare. but as you get the chills you tell yourself it's probably the a/c blaring.

imagine your surprise when the bartender sends 4 drinks to the table and when you look back to asses the situation you have 4 (well 3 as the big boy in the corner doesn't touch the drink but inclines his head at you) miming a clinking motion while sipping on the drinks.

the mortification doesn't end because when your friends abandon you for some more dance time and you turn to get up to the bathroom you walk straight into a hard chest of the pretty boy. he calms your apologies from running into him with a smile. "wanted ta thank you for the drink, bonnie."

heat rushes to your face as you try to somehow talk your way out of this mess because what seemed like a great idea when your head was swimming with 9 drinks is starting to seem a lot worse now that you are slowly sobering up.

"nothing ta worry 'bout. come sit with us. it feels wrong to keep a bonnie lass like yerself all alone."

next up: simon's ver. // others are coming soon

[aajjks]

Hot Eve (m)

synopsis. getting fucked raw by your ex boyfriend stuck in an elevator on Christmas Eve.

warnings. 18+, ëxplïçït sêx, ünprôtëçtëd sêx, nønçøn sêx, stälkër ëx böÿfrïënd jk, yn ïs kïndä mørälïtÿ cørrùpt yn, ëlëvåtør sêx, yândërë thëmës, därk smüt.

note. LAST WORK FOR 2024!!!!!! MERRY CHRISTMAS TO MY CHRISTIAN FOLLOWERS! 🎄❤️❤️‍🔥. this year was hard as fuck. I’m not okay but let’s hope I’ll be so much happier starting from next year. enjoy this!!!! share feedback! gif credits to owner, found it on Pinterest.

December, 25th. It’s Christmas.

It’s the favorite time of the year for you, you love it, the cold, the sweetness of the blessings of Christmas. The streets are lit up. Merry atmosphere everywhere.

But all you feel is dread.

he’s near..

Your legs are on fire, your breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps as you sprint down the hallway.

The sound of his boots echoes behind you, heavy and deliberate. He's not running. He doesn't need to.

The elevator is so close-just a few more steps.

You slam your hand against the button, frantic, fingers trembling. The soft ding of the arriving elevator is barely audible over the roar of blood in your ears.

Don't look back. Don't look back.

But you do.

Jungkook is there, closing the distance with that infuriating, unhurried stride, his lips curled into a smirk like he's already won.

His black shirt clings to his muscular chest, and his eyes gleam with something feral, like a predator toying with its prey.

The elevator doors glide open, and you dart inside, stabbing the close door button over and over again. You're muttering under your breath, desperate, “Close, close, please just fucking close-“”

The doors start to slide shut, and relief washes over you. But then you see it-his hand. Thick, veined, and steady as it wedges between the closing doors.

The elevator jerks back open, and your stomach twists into a sick knot of dread.

Jungkook steps inside, slow and casual, like he's got all the time in the world.

There's something deliciously pathetic about the way you shrink back against the wall, like you honestly thought you could get away from him.

It's adorable. Pathetic, but adorable.

He lets the silence hang in the air for a moment, drinking in the sight of you.

Your chest is heaving, your cheeks flushed, and those pretty, wide eyes are staring up at him like you're terrified.

Good.

He steps forward, his boots heavy against the floor, until there's no space left between you and the cold metal wall.

“Really?”

You are so fucking dumb, but so cute.

He drawls, tilting his head as his lips curl into a lazy, mocking smirk. “The elevator? That's the best you could do?”

His voice drops, low and biting. “What were you gonna do, huh Ride it to safety? Maybe hide in your little fucking apartment and pretend I don't exist?"

He chuckles darkly, his tongue sliding over his teeth. “Cute. Stupid as fuck, but cute.”

Your throat is dry, and your legs feel like they're about to give out. He's so close now, the sharp scent of his cologne invading every breath you take, mixing with the heat radiating off his body.

“Jungkook, I'm serious. You need to leave,” you manage to say, though your voice comes out small and shaky, utterly unconvincing.

He laughs at you. A sharp, humorless sound that makes your stomach churn.

“Serious?" he repeats, arching a brow as if the word itself is a joke. “You're fucking hilarious, you know that? Acting all big and bad when you're shaking like a goddamn leaf.”

His hand slams against the wall beside your head, and you flinch hard. He leans in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he murmurs, “Tell me to leave again. Go ahead.”

You will never… because you can’t.

“Let's see what happens.”

You're trembling, looking at him with those big, frightened eyes, and it's making his cock ache.

He hates how much he loves this— loves the way you run, the way you fight, like it's anything more than a game to him.

He tilts his head, dragging his gaze over you slowly, deliberately, like he's savoring every inch. You're perfect.

So fucking perfect when you're like this.

“Look at you,” he says, his voice low and sharp.

“Standing there all scared and pretty, like you don't know exactly how this ends.”

“You like this shit, don't you?” His hand trails down your side, possessive and unapologetic, and he smirks when you squirm. “Running away. Making me fucking chase you. You get off on it.”

Yes you do.

You try to push him away, your hands pressing weakly against his chest, but it's useless. He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head in one fluid motion, grinning when you gasp.

“Stop fucking pretending,” he growls, his eyes darkening as they lock with yours. “We both know you like it when I get like this. You fucking love it.”

You shake your head, trying to deny it, but the words stick in your throat. You hate how strong he is, how easily he can overpower you.

But what you hate more-what terrifies you- is that some part of you does like it.

God, he’s so hot..

“Let me go,” you whisper, though it sounds more like a plea than a command.

His grip on your wrists tightens, and he leans in closer, his breath hot against your lips. "

“Let you go?” he repeats, his voice mocking. “That's cute, baby. Real fucking cute.”

His free hand slides down to your waist, gripping hard enough to make you wince.

“Let's get one thing straight,” he murmurs, his tone dropping to something dark and dangerous. “You're mine. Every fucking inch of you. And I'm not letting you go anywhere.”

He's hard as a rock, the sight of you pinned against the wall, helpless and trembling, driving him wild.

His gaze drops to your lips, parted and soft, and it takes everything in him not to devour you right then and there.

“You can run all you want,” Jungkook says, his voice thick with lust and something darker.

“But you'll never fucking get away from me. Never.”

His fingers dig into your waist, his body pressing against yours, caging you completely. He wants to mark you, to ruin you, to make sure you never even think about leaving him again.

Your entire body feels trapped in a vice, his presence suffocating, overwhelming. You hate how he's looking at you-hungry, like he wants

to devour you whole, like he owns you. And maybe he does.

The words stick in your throat, caught somewhere between fear and something darker, something shameful…

Your cunt feels so damp.

You twist your wrists against his grip, but doesn't even flinch.

it's effortless.

“Jungkook,” you breathe, your voice shaky and thin. “This isn't-“

“This isn't what?” he snaps, cutting you off. His voice is low, rough, teetering between anger and lust. “What you wanted? What you've been fucking asking for this whole time?”

His fingers dig into your waist, and you feel the heat of his body press harder against yours. You can't look at him, can't handle the intensity of his eyes burning into you.

“Look at me,” he demands, his voice sharp enough to make you flinch.

You shake your head, keeping your gaze fixed on the wall behind him.

“I said look at me.”

He releases one of your wrists only to grip your chin, forcing your face up until you're staring into those dark, furious eyes.

His pupils are blown wide, and the muscle in his jaw ticks with restraint.

“See this?” he growls, his tone dripping with venom as his free hand grabs your thigh, hitching it against his hip,

“This is what happens when you try to run from me. When you act like you don't fucking belong to me.”

You're trembling under his touch, and it sends a sick, addictive thrill straight through him. He can feel the way your body betrays you, the way your breaths come quicker, the way your thighs press together even though you're still pretending to fight.

“Fucking liar,” he mutters, his lips curling into a sneer. "You say you want me to leave, but you don't mean it. You never fucking mean it.”

Jungkook knows you..

He drags his hand along your thigh, gripping it hard enough to leave marks, his body pressing closer, caging you completely.

You're his, every inch of you, and it pisses him off that you even thought you could get away.

“You think I'm stupid?” he spits, leaning in until his mouth hovers over yours. “You think I don't see the way you look at me yn?”

He mocks, licking his lips, his tongue teasing you.

“Fuck baby… you’re making my cock ache.” He groans, biting his lower lip, his hand leaves your thigh to settle on his own zipper.

Your eyes wide because you know what he’s about to do and you want to stop him, but no words come out of your mouth because your brain has stopped working.

All you can think, feel.. and smell is him.

“Fuck yn… I’ve been warning you for the longest time.. you have no idea how horny I am right now…” the way his eyes are clouded with lust tells you everything you need to know.

He looks like a feral animal.

He unzips his pants, letting it fall down and then he presses a button on the elevator, making it come to a halt. You shudder in fear.

“J-Jungkook..” you manage to slip out his name from your mouth, but before you can say anything else, he crashes his mouth to yours.

His tongue forces itself into your mouth as he uses his other hand to usher his boxers off. You whine in his mouth, trying to stop him but—

God, his tongue feels so hot.

Your pussy clenches as you both kiss. He’s not just kissing but he’s devouring you, his free hand cages you in, making sure you can’t escape.

His hard free dick is pressing against your stomach, his other hand hurriedly goes to your skirt, unzipping it he catches the hem of your underwear, he yanks it down, as his tongue completely dominates your mouth.

You moan helplessly.

But he doesn’t let you break the kiss,, you’re already soaking wet.

His teeth nip at your bottom lip as his tongues go to assault your mouth. Then without a warning he shoves his cock inside your wet right cunt.

A guttural moan escapes his throat as he growls into your mouth like a wounded animal.

He’s finally getting to fuck you after so long.

And your knees go weak, like jelly. It’s too late now.

He starts to pound into you hard and fast, your back slamming continuously against the elevator wall, he pulls you up by your hips and wraps your legs around his waist.

After finally breaking the kiss, his thrusts only her more brutal, you scream in ecstasy and pain, burying your face in his neck as you grip on his shoulders tighten.

“Fu-Fuck yn you’re going to make me fucking cum.”

Again, his hungry mouth finds yours, devouring with desperate kisses as he moves his hips, fast.

“O-Oh J-Jungkook…”

•••

Hours go by. You’re fucked out- he’s sweating, you’re actually paralyzed but he’s not stopping, uoure still stuck in the elevator, thank fully the fan of the machine is keeping you alive but the elevator reeks of sex.

What have you done? Getting fucked by your psychotic ex on Christmas Eve.

And he’s about to cum inside your cunt raw.

And you are going to do nothing about it. Like always.

“Merry fucking Christmas my love.”

[lassieposting]

Been thinking a lot lately about romanced Astarion post-spawn ending.

Because like. The Funnest™ thing about cptsd is how much of it gets delayed. When you're trapped in a lengthy, ongoing traumatic situation, you do not have the ability to process and start healing your mental wounds. Your brain and body go into survival mode, and all that matters in the moment is that you somehow cope with the horrors. He wouldn't have been able to even begin dealing with the physical, mental and emotional toll of two hundred years of torture, brutalization and dehumanization while he was under Cazador's control; he is in constant danger, surrounded by sharks in the water, and survival means not letting them smell blood. He can't afford to fall apart, to show weakness. He is shockingly functional and competent in-game, partly because he has to be to work as a game character, but also partly because...it do be like that, to some degree. When death, for whatever reason, is not an option, you just have to shut down and keep going. People adapt in order to survive, and when we learn that showing an "injury" (physical or psychological) only gets us punished, we learn to hide it.

Early-game Astarion is terrified - of Cazador, of Godey, of being hunted down by his siblings, of being staked or sold off at the first opportunity by Tav and the other companions, of turning into a mindflayer, of another painful transformation, of losing himself when he's only just regained his autonomy after two centuries, of what Cazador will do to him if he ever finds him - the man is overwhelmed by fear. He's on thin ice as a vampire, and he's not going to give them any more reason to want him gone. Survival instinct is still in control, and in this new situation, crafting some fragile safety for himself means not only selling his body for protection, but also being useful. Clear-headed. Good in a fight.

Endgame Astarion finds himself in a completely different situation. The time-sensitive overarching threats - Cazador and impending ceremorphosis - have been dealt with. He has a loving, supportive partner he's really starting to feel safe with - Tav/Durge has proved that they're on his side, that their affection is genuine, that they don't just want him for the one thing he's been told he's good for. They've told him they're going to help him find a workaround for his sun allergy. He's getting fed regularly. He has time to stop, and breathe, and just. Recuperate.

For the first time in 200 years, he is safe.

And it will probably take a while to catch up, during which time he will seem to be coping really well, but at some point, his brain is going to realise that he's safe, and it's going to finally start processing the sheer fucking horror he's been through. Since I haven't seen anyone talking about this particular fun aspect of cptsd, allow me to offer u some thoughts on issues Astarion and Tav might end up dealing with in the months/years postgame, during the

✨ Delayed Trauma Response ✨

Memory Gaps: Astarion realising, as he opens up to Tav, that there are entire years or decades of his life from which he has only a handful of memories. Great big blank stretches where he has no idea where he was, who he was with, what was happening to him. Some of the gaps cover years at a time where he was so dissociated and shut down that he just didn't retain any memories of what was going on around him. Some are shorter periods of particularly horrific torture that his brain has deliberately blocked out to protect him.

Recovered Memories: At some point, years into the future when he's done A Lot of healing, he might find that every now and then, a fragment of those lost memories will unexpectedly come back to him. He'll catch a particular scent on the breeze, or overhear a specific phrase in the street, or cross paths with someone whose face is oddly familiar, and he'll get a glimpse of an acute horror he'd filed neatly away where it couldn't hurt him anymore. He very rarely remembers all the context to those flashes of his past. He might recall that he was punished, but not what he was punished for, or he might remember words spoken by a greedy conquest, but be unable to recall the man's face.

Dissociation: Tav knows going into this relationship that Astarion has basically made an art out of dissociating during sex. They also know, from their shared encounter with the drow twins, that he's not great at enforcing his own boundaries - he'll always say he'll speak up and back out if he stops having fun, but in practice he rarely does; he's not used to having the option of saying no to his partner, and being punished if he tries. So they know there's going to be some practice and experimentation and negotiation necessary there, to figure out the rough limits of his comfort zone. But once he starts really processing, there may be days where he just checks out completely. Tav will touch his shoulder, and he'll startle and apologise - "Terribly sorry, darling, I was miles away for a moment there." And Tav will gently point out that he's been sat in the same spot vacantly staring into the middle distance for hours. They've been checking in on him occasionally and this is the first time he's responded. It's unsettling, to say the least.

Lost Time: Astarion was very young when he was turned, physically mature but emotionally juvenile. He was basically an overgrown teenager, in the phase of life where elves are just starting to learn who they are and what they want, and figure out their place in the world. But he never got to do that, because he spent his formative young adult years in a world where everyone became an abuser, where his only means of surviving was to smile and charm and obey while even his basic human dignity was stripped away. He learned that communication is based on manipulation. He learned that the powerful can do whatever they like to the weak. He learned an incredibly toxic, abusive way of life, and that was his family dynamic, his everyday life, for as long as he can remember. Now that he's free and safe, he's realising that the world doesn't actually work that way and that he's now far behind even shorter-lived races in social/emotional development. He's grieving for the person he could've been. He's grieving for the life he could've lived. He's grieving for all the years he already lost, and the ones he'll lose in the future as he flounders to catch up. A decent chunk of his life was stolen from him, and that's time he will never get back.

Flashbacks & Night Terrors: Specifically the kind where your brain convinces you that an injury you had a long time ago is actually an injury you have (or are receiving) right now. There are nights where he'll wake Tav in a panic, because his back feels like it's on fire, he can feel every freshly-carved wound dripping blood and he's in so much pain he doesn't know what else to do. If Tav looks, they see nothing out of the ordinary - old, long-healed scars, same as always. But the pain and the fear and the distress are all very real to him, and all they can do is try to comfort him, cover his back with cool damp cloths or healing salves, remind him he's safe now and they're not leaving him.

Boundary Shifting: Sometimes, Tav can come up and hug him from behind, and he'll melt into them a little bit and go all soft and happy. Other times, he might flinch away or go rigid at the same gesture. A lot of the time, it really depends on how he's feeling on the day, but at least a little bit of it is deliberate - he's pushing to find the limit of just how much autonomy Tav is willing to give him. He wants to know at what point they'll stop respecting his "no". Will they accept it if he doesn't want a hug? If he wants to sleep in his own room tonight? At what point will understanding turn to anger at being rejected? From the drow twins four/fivesome, we also know he's got a tendency to push his own boundaries, and jump into things he's actually not ready for, and Tav would be the one holding his hand through the fallout as he tries to figure out what his own boundaries even are.

Frustration! So, so much frustration. He wants to be Over It already. He wants to move past everything that ever happened to him and never think about it again. He hates that Cazador still has a grip on him, even in death - he doesn't want to give the bastard the satisfaction of dwelling on all his punishments, his cruelties. Sometimes, that frustration is going to explode outwards at Tav - he'll get angry at them for coddling him, or find something small to start a fight over, or he'll set an unreasonable boundary and try to defend it because he's still learning what healthy boundaries look like. Sometimes, it will implode inwards, and that won't be about Tav at all, but they'll get the brunt of it all the same - it might come out as self-loathing or self-punishment, and he'll react by doing something stupid, like trying to drive them away, because having a secure, relatively healthy relationship is terrifying and the instinct is to destroy it before Tav can. There will be yelling and angry tears and deeply unhealthy coping mechanisms, and they'd have to work through that. Trauma is ugly, and Astarion is right at the beginning of a very long journey towards healing.

Abandonment Issues: Astarion wants the relationship to be one between equals, but he's kind of got Tav on a pedestal all the same. They saved him. They helped him get rid of Cazador for good. They chose him and love him despite a wealth of better (in his eyes) options, and all his baggage. They stayed with him even when he has very little to offer them. We know his vanity and obnoxious self-absorption is a fragile attempt to obscure the fact that his self-esteem is in the dirt and he has virtually no self-worth, and there are a couple of occasions in-game where it becomes clear that he's afraid of losing the one person who somehow considers him lovable. After seeing Sebastian and all the other conquests, he begs Tav not to hate him, saying that he did what he had to. If he has a rival for Tav's affections, and Tav informs him that they broke up with the rival to be with Astarion, he's shocked and the first thing out of his mouth is, "You ended things with them for me? Why?" And if Durge tries to break up with him for his own safety, his facade drops and he immediately asks if he did something wrong. So while he's not afraid to argue with Tav, if something happens - like an angry outburst - that upsets or angers them, and he thinks he's at risk of losing that one steady, stable person in his life, he might well cling and overcompensate to try and repair what he thinks is a fracture in their relationship. He'll fawn or beg or crawl into Tav's bed to "apologise" and "make it up to them" because, well, very occasionally it worked on Cazador. With patience and good communication and lots of repeatedly driving the lesson home to overcome 200 years of education to the contrary, he will eventually start to believe that "I'm really pissed off at you right now," does not equate to, "You are the worst mistake I've ever made and I am leaving you."

Panic Attacks: I feel like honestly he'd get some symptoms of these on a fairly regular basis, but he's never been given any option other than just trying to power through them. He's used to realising he's shaking, he's used to feeling like he's watching himself from outside his body, or like he can't breathe even though he doesn't need to. He's very familiar with the sickening fear in his gut, so intense it makes his head spin. He's not used to being comforted or reassured about them - he thinks they're normal. Tav disagrees.

Anyway, cptsd is messy and complicated and often looks very different from person to person so these will not represent everyone's but these are just some ideas for what the ongoing recovery process might make them work through, based on the aspects I'm most familiar with.

Projecting? Who's projecting? I'm not projecting. Shut up.

[halloweennymph]

Full Moon

werewolf x f! reader

summary: after a failed halloween party, you decide to go home, not even thinking that you would end up having a passionate encounter with a beast.

warnings: oral (f! receiving), loss of virginity, dub-con, knotting, breeding, mentions of kidnapping.

a/n: i haven’t written in months so it’s probably not my best work, but i hope that some of you enjoy it!! <3

You tried. You really tried going to that stupid halloween party that your friends had been begging you to attend with them, promising that it would be cool and fun. But it wasn’t like that, an hour later they just disappeared, probably just to fuck with their boyfriends in a random room or bathroom, leaving you by yourself surrounded by strangers in a house that already smelled like alcohol and puke.

That’s how you ended up walking alone in the middle of the night, wearing a ridiculous angel costume that barely covers your body, planning on getting back home as soon as possible and spend the night in cozy pajamas and watching horror movies.

The street is almost empty, just some kids trick or treating are still outside, but you don’t really pay attention to anything until you hear something strange, some footsteps creeping closer to you.

At first you can’t see anything, it’s too dark, but then you see him. A werewolf, hiding behind a tree, staring at you with big yellow eyes as if he is about to catch another prey to eat.

A very realistic costume, that’s what you think, maybe just a random dude trying to mess with you… right?

“Nice costume!” you smile to him from the distance, not wanting to be rude, and then continue to your way home. A couple more blocks and you’ll be there, ready to relax after that disgusting place and the so called party.

If it weren’t for the full moon, you’d be completely terrified to be on your own, but with the way it dimly illuminates your path it’s almost soothing.

Once you finally get home, you take off your shoes and go straight to your room to take off the rest of your cheap costume. But once you strip down to just your panties, you hear those strange noises again.

…maybe this time it’s some wild animal or kids messing around?

You turn around to look through your window and there he is, that werewolf staring at you once more, as if he hadn’t had enough with that first time. But instead of feeling pissed off, you feel fear, and a deep instinct to run and hide.

“Go away” it’s all you can say, and of course that he won’t follow you orders, he already decided that you will be his, one way or another.

Before you can even think or react, the werewolf breaks the window and comes inside your room, inspecting the place carefully and stepping on the broken glass without feeling a single thing. That’s it. You think it’s over and imagine the worst escenario possible, but when he comes closer to you he just stares down at your fragile and terrified frame.

“I won’t hurt you” he says. “I just think that you’d be the perfect mate for me, don’t you think, little one?”

Having him just a few inches inches from you, you can see his sharp teeth, his wet nose and shiny fur, and you can also perceive his strong smell, animalistic, and… intoxicating. That’s when you realize that it’s not just a dude in a costume, it’s a real werewolf.

“I- I don’t know” you reply with a trembling voice.

He takes a step closer and leans in, just enough to smell your hair, your neck, and your shoulders. So so sweet. You wouldn’t believe it if he told you that he smelled you from miles away, causing some kind of urge on him, so intense that he had to track down the pretty thing that smelled just like innocence.

“You’re a pure one” he growls, with his muzzle buried on your neck. “We don’t find things like you very often”.

You don’t really know what he’s implying by pure, maybe the fact that you’re still a virgin, but oh, all of the sudden your thoughts and fears vanish from your mind when he starts licking your neck.

Each drag of his tongue feels like nothing you’ve had before, and so you dare to touch him, a real one, like you always read about in those romance novels. You caress his fur, thick and soft, and then slightly pull on those pointy ears, completely amazed to be able to run your hands through such a dangerous beast.

Without wasting any time, he wraps his paws around your waist and guides you to the bed, pushing you softly into the softness of your silk sheets.

Now having you completely at his disposal, he takes just a few seconds to admire your fragile body. He always dreamed of having a little human all to himself, but he never thought he’d find someone so pretty, so perfect.

Caging you beneath him, his muzzle slowly travels down to your cleavage and your tits, licking your hard nipples for a bit before continuing his way down, dragging his wet nose from your ribs to your belly, and finally, your clothed pussy.

He effortlessly rips off your lace panties with his fangs and his tongue immediately finds its place between your folds, tasting your sweet arousal. And that’s more than enough to drive him crazy.

He devours your pretty pussy like he hasn’t eaten in months, moving his slimey tongue from your little hole to your clit, making you mewl in pleasure and buck your hips against his face in an attempt to receive more.

He wraps his strong arms around your thighs, slightly digging his claws into your skin, just to keep you from moving while he licks your clit as fast as he can.

“I’m gonna cum” you moan, mindlessly tugging at his dark fur, already feeling that familiar pit in your lower belly about to explode.

A few seconds more and you come undone, riding the waves of pleasure on his mouth. And even though you’re starting to get overstimulated, he keeps your trembling legs apart, drinking all the sweet juices that leak out of you.

Oh, you have no idea how much he’s going to enjoy tearing open that unused little pussy of yours.

In your mind, clouded by pleasure, you think that maybe he will go away now, but when he get his muzzle out of between your legs and starts manhandling your body onto a new position, you know that it’s not over. He wants more than that.

Putting on all fours, he pushes your head to the mattress and lifts your hips, so roughly that he unintentionally scratches your skin with his long claws.

“This might hurt you a little bit” the werewolf speaks, using the tip of his red cock to smear his precum all over your entrance. “But you’re gonna take it like a good girl, won’t you?”

You’re scared, with your heart racing like crazy, but deep down you crave it. You crave to be fucked hard, and right now you don’t even care that he’s a beast that could easily tear you in half.

“Y-yes” you mewl, arching your back even more. “I’ll be a good girl.”

That’s all he needed to hear. Slowly, he starts pushing it inside, letting out a soft hiss at the sensation of your little hole stretching around him, so warm and tight, accommodating to the big size of his cock.

It hurts and stings, but you don’t want him to stop, so you just cry out in pain while grabbing your sheets, trying to tough it out like the good girl that you promised to be.

Once he is buried deep inside your pussy, he gives you a few seconds to adjust, spitting some drool right there to make it more slippery before thrusting. He starts slowly, but it’s not long until his animalistic urges take over and it turns rough and desperate.

You swear that you can feel him all the way up to your guts, forcing your walls to memorize each one of his ridges and veins. And before you know it, the pain has faded, leaving only the pleasurable stretch.

“It’s too much” you moan when he hits your sweet spot, mixing quite well with the bounce of his heavy balls against your clit.

“Go ahead and cum on my cock, pretty girl” he growls, grabbing your ass to slam into you even harder, already knowing that you’re close to another orgasm by the way you clench around him.

Loud squelching noises and your pathetic cries fill the room, it’s filthy, and you kinda feel like a slut for losing your virginity in such a dirty way. But do you care? not a single bit, specially not when you’re getting fucked by a literal werewolf.

You can’t take it any longer so you let your second orgasm overtake your body, whimpering and trembling under him, your greedy hole now spasming and sucking him in, begging to be bred.

You feel so good that just a few more thrusts and he is finally reaching his peak, letting out a deep grunt as he releases all of his hot cum inside you, filling your womb with his fertile seed.

He collapses on top of you, careful not to hurt you under his weight, only for a few minutes while you both catch your breath and enjoy the weird sensation of his inflated knot binding you together.

You have no idea of what you just did, but a dumb smile appears on your face, feeling safe under the mass of muscles and fur.

What you really don’t know, is that once his cock goes soft, he’s gonna pull out and carry your limp body in his arms, taking you with him to the deepest part of the woods. Why would he leave you there on your own again if you’ll probably have his pups after a few months?

Now you’re his, forever.

[mclacedes]

The Idea Of You (LN4)

1. The Idea of Kissing

summary: in which lando and you have been friends for over 5 years and developed feelings for each other, but refuse to admit it until his family's new year's party.

autor's note: I present to you my first story on tumblr :')!! I'm so happy that this is finally becoming a reality, that I could post all the chapters at once... maybe chapters every other day would be a good start.

I would like to remind you that English is not my first language, so FEEL FREE to correct me 🤍

WARNINGS: bits of fluff every here and there, angst, a little smut, mention of anxiety

wc: 5.5k words

“i'd rather take that risk than keep pretending”

next chapter: The Idea of Worthiness

the norris party had been a great success, with laughter and music still echoing in the kitchen, where you and lando worked side by side to clean up the remnants of the celebration. the cozy mess of half-eaten snacks and empty drink bottles created an intimate atmosphere, a testament to the night’s joy and the warmth of being with friends.

since you two became friends in 2018, it has become the most normal thing in the world for you to spend a few days at his family's house when he gets time to come home; so when your families met at Silverstone 2019, it was almost like you were one big family, only one thing, part of the same thing. as usual, his mother invited you to their New Year's party.

the party—like anything involving the Norris name—was a blast and, of course, something to remember. it was the best possible way to welcome 2024 with open arms after the last disastrous years.

now, confetti, shiny paper, and glitter were scattered across the floor of the house, remnants of a night well-spent. you and Lando willingly took your time cleaning up, both of you slipping easily into the comfortable rhythm of a shared task. Lando rinsed the cutlery, while you swept the floor.

as you moved around the room, your eyes were drawn to him—his back, broad and muscular beneath the thin fabric of his white dress shirt, which clung just enough to reveal the silhouette of his strength.

as you swept the floor, you couldn’t help but let your gaze linger a little longer on Lando’s silhouette as he washed the dishes. the quiet between you felt more yours than the remnants of the party scattered around the room. with the last guests gone, the laughter and music faded into a soft hum, leaving just the rhythmic clinking of dishes. you found the moment oddly intimate, a shared space where everything else faded away.

“do you remember the first New Year’s party you came to?” Lando’s voice broke the silence, pulling you from your thoughts. he turned slightly, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “i think it was 2019. you nearly dropped your drink when my dad tried to get everyone to sing ‘Auld Lang Syne.’”

you laughed, the memory making you feel warm inside. “how could i have forgotten? your dad was so into it, and i was just standing there, completely clueless.”

“it felt just like a movie scene,” he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “and i still think you owe me a proper midnight kiss for that.”

your heart skipped a beat at his words. it was a lighthearted joke, but it hit closer to home than you expected.

you've had this major crush on him since 2019, and moments like these only made it harder to ignore. every lingering glance, every shared laugh, and the warmth of his presence felt charged with something unspoken, something you both danced around but never fully acknowledged. as you swept the floor, the weight of your feelings settled in the silence, an undercurrent that hummed softly between you. it was a reminder of all those stolen moments and quiet confessions, a connection that felt both thrilling and terrifying.

you shook that feeling off.

“god, you'll never let that go, will you?” the playful shock was palpable in your tone as you stopped sweeping the floor. a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you watched lando position himself to face you, on the other side of the kitchen island. he rested his body against the sink, his weight supported on his elbows.

“how could i? you pulled me in for a kiss but didn't move!” he rolls his eyes.

the memory hits you, sending a shiver down your spine. you remember just how physically close you two were there and what led you to do that… the overwhelming want of his lips in yours, the way he looked just as pretty as tonight, how he was a gentleman to you all night long.

“i was a bit drunk,” the lie rolls off your tongue with a little too much ease.

lando moves around the island and stop in front of you.

“are you drunk right now, love?” his voice dropped almost an octave, reverberating low and husky. his voice like that had a special effect on you, something you would never understand.

“not much, you know i don't like drinking” you shrug.

“then why does it look like you still wanna kiss me, beautiful?” his eyes twinkling with mischief, the voice drunk on his characteristic playful confidence and that smile… it made your heart perform various somersaults in sequence, the butterflies on your stomach wanted to be freed. he was driving you wild. and he knew it. “did you kiss someone tonight?”

“why does that even matter?” you rolled your eyes and turned your back to him.

he followed. his body now stands fewer meters from you. you could feel his presence, hanging imposingly around the kitchen.

“because i wanna know if i’ll be the first to do so this year, baby,” your whole body froze by the saying.

every limb petrified, every cell dead, every neuron fried. you stood right there were you where, unable to process the weight of his words.

you took a moment to gather your thoughts, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. the warmth of his presence enveloped you, making it hard to think straight. somehow, you managed to turn around.

“i mean… you know what they say—no kiss, no bliss”

“no one says that, lan,” you chuckle at the made-up saying.

“well... then we do,” he states.

“we?” you echo, hesitantly. “what do you mean, we?”

“us, love. you and me,” he turns around and smile.

you felt the heat creeping up your cheeks at his words, a mix of embarrassment and excitement swirling within you. “so, what? i should kiss you because you coined a catchy phrase?”

lando stepped closer, a playful glint in his eye. “well, it sounds pretty convincing to me. plus, it’s new year’s! a fresh start, right? a perfect time to mess around and have some fun, don't you think?”

your heart sunk to your stomach.

for lando, it was a joke, something that'd entertain him.

the realization that he would never look at you how you looked at him hit you right in your stomach—the weight of his words hitting harder than expected.

“i… i can’t handle this right now,” you stammered, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe. “i need a minute.” without waiting for a response, you dashed out of the kitchen, desperate to escape and keep your tears at bay.

you bolted into the guest room that had become a second home over the years, flinging yourself onto the bed and burying your face in the soft pillows.

the weight of his words clung to you, turning what had felt like playful banter into something more painful. hot tears slipped down your cheeks, soaking into the fabric of the pillow as you tried to quiet your racing heart.

after a few minutes, soft knock interrupted your spiraling thoughts, and before you could muster a response, lando stepped in. his expression shifted from playful to serious, concern etched across his features as he took in your trembling form and the telltale signs of tears. his heart sank, breaking at the sight of you so upset.

“y/n,” he said gently, closing the door behind him. “can we have a word?”

you turned away, not wanting him to see the tears brimming in your eyes. “go away” you mumbled, your voice muffled by the pillow.

“i’m not going anywhere, y/n,” he voiced. “please, talk to me.”

he took a step closer until he finally sat on the bed in which you laid face down. his presence filled the small room with a warmth that both comforted and terrified you. “i didn’t mean to upset you. i thought it would be funny.”

you felt the bed shift under his weight, and the gentle creak of the mattress reminded you of how close he was. you took a shaky breath, still not ready to face him; yet you got up, walking to the other side of the bed so you could see him from the front.

“it’s not just that,” you said, your words barely escaping your lips. “you don’t understand how… complicated and hurtful this is for me.”

“complicated? hurtful?” he echoed, confusion lacing his tone. “y/n, we’ve been friends for years. what’s complicated about this?”

your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to gather all the courage in the world to tell him how you've felt for so long.

“you don’t get it, lan,” you chuckled softly in disbelief. “how come you don't see i've had feelings for you for a long time now? every time you joke around, it just… it makes everything harder. it hurts me, lan. so much. i think you won't ever see me like that because i mean… the people you've went out with, jesus, they're goddesses and me? i'm… fuck, lan!”

you turned your back to lando, staring at the wall and letting tears run down your cheeks.

lando’s heart dropped as soon as he heard the soft, muffled sobs escaping your lips. panic surged through him, and he sprang up from the bed, his pulse racing.

“hey, hey,” he breathed, urgency lacing his tone. his hands reached out instinctively to cup your face, but he hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to bridge the distance between your pain and his desire to comfort you. when he finally touched you, his soft hands were breaking out in cold sweat, yet his familiar touch brought you a sense of solace. his grip was gentle but firm, grounding you in that moment. “please don’t cry, baby.”

“look at me,” he searched your eyes, desperation in his voice. “i hate seeing you like this. you mean too much to me. way more than you know.”

“lando, i can't—” he cut you off.

“i need you to hear me, y/n. you are the most beautiful girl i have ever seen, and it breaks my heart to see you like this and because, fuck, you are the most perfect person. it pisses me off to think that you don't see yourself the way i do. god, i love you. i think it's amazing how you take your time to look after your friends and relatives, it's adorable how good you are with children, you are so effortlessly funny and intelligent. how come you don't see it?”

his words hung in the air, heavy with meaning and sincerity. you felt the warmth of his hands on your cheeks, the way he looked at you as if you were the only person in the world. slowly, the wall you had built around your heart began to crumble under the weight of his confession.

“you’re not just my friend, y/n,” he continued, his voice softening. “you’ve always been more to me. and every time i joked, it was just me trying to hide how much i cared. i didn’t want to ruin what we had, but here we are.”

he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin. “i’m tired of pretending. i want you to be mine, for real. please let me in. let me show you how much you mean to me.”

your heart raced as his gaze bore into yours, searching for understanding, for a glimpse of hope. the vulnerability in his eyes made you feel seen in a way you never had before. you were at a crossroads, and for the first time, you saw the possibility of something beautiful blooming from the ashes of your uncertainty.

you felt a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you, taken aback by the depth of his words. your mind raced, struggling to process the reality of what he was saying. “lando, this… this is a lot to take in,” you managed to whisper, your heart pounding in your chest.

he took a small step closer, his hands still cradling your face as he searched your eyes for any flicker of reciprocation. “i know it is. but i’ve been holding back for so long, scared of losing you if things didn’t work out. but the truth is, i can’t imagine my life without you. i don’t want to hide how i feel anymore.”

the vulnerability in his voice made your heart ache. “you really mean that?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly. the weight of your feelings, long kept hidden, began to surface, intertwining with his confession.

“absolutely,” he said earnestly. “you’re the one who makes me laugh when i’m down, the person i want to share my victories with. i’ve always felt a connection with you, something deeper than just friendship. and i’ve been too afraid to say anything because i didn’t want to ruin what we have.”

you took a shaky breath, the reality of his love washing over you like a wave. “but what if things change? what if it ruins our friendship?”

“i’d rather take that risk than keep pretending,” he replied, his voice steady and reassuring. “you’re worth it. and if it doesn’t work out, at least we’ll know we tried. but i truly believe we can be more than friends. i want to explore this with you.”

his honesty wrapped around you, pulling you closer, and for the first time, you felt the possibility of a future filled with hope rather than fear. you stared into his eyes, seeing not just the boy you had known for years but the man who could potentially hold your heart.

“i just… i’ve had feelings for you for so long, lan,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. “i was terrified you’d never see me that way.”

“and now?” he asked, leaning in closer, his gaze unwavering.

“now,” you said, feeling the walls you’d built around your heart begin to dissolve, “i want to see where this goes. if you’re really sure about us.”

“more than sure,” he promised, his thumb gently brushing away a tear that had slipped down your cheek. “i’m all in, y/n.”

in that moment, the air between you crackled with possibility, and you knew, no matter what came next, you were ready to take that leap together.

“what do you want, lando?” you finally asked, vulnerability spilling over the edges of your bravado.

“i want to kiss you, for real this time,” he replied simply, his tone low and sincere. “but more than that... i want you, y/n”

and just like that, the tension shifted. the room felt smaller as he leaned in, the gravity of the moment drawing you closer.

as you leaned in, the world outside faded into nothingness, leaving just the two of you, a shared breath before the leap.

his defined lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative, igniting a spark inside you. you could taste the remnants of champagne on his breath, a sweet reminder of the night you two shared. the kiss deepened.

lando grabbed your waist and staggered back until he sat on the bed, without breaking your kiss. with his legs open, you remained between them. your hands played with norris' neck and shoulder as he explored your waist, hips, tailbone until they landed on your ass, going down to his thighs, where he gripped tighter.

the soft moan that left your mouth made him smile and squeeze tighter, which brought you closer to him. almost like instinct, you moved to sit on his lap.

it felt like you two were trying to make up for all the lost time, and the clock didn't move; the party was a distant memory. the only thing that mattered was the feeling of his hands on you and the growing bulge beneath you.

lando’s fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with a fervent need that sent shivers down your spine. you could feel the tension from earlier melting away, replaced by a heat that enveloped you both. each kiss felt like a promise, a declaration of everything you had both been too afraid to say until now.

his hands moves to the back of your dress, unzipping it carefully. the brush of his fingers on your bare skin ignited a spark within you, sending shivers down your spine as his hands explored your body with a reverent slowness. he caressed your sides, fingers brushing against the fabric of your sparkly Prada dress, teasing and tracing the curves he had only imagined before.

Lando quickly got rid of your expensive dress, leaving her breasts exposed for you to do whatever he wanted with the pair.

he felt his mouth water as he looked at your breasts, feeling even more horny just imagining you bouncing on top of him and your breasts swaying with each thrust. oh, god, here was so much he wanted to try with you and the mere thought made his cock even more painfully hard.

“so beautiful…” he silently praised, leaning in to kiss the top of your tits. “so hot… so mine”

“i’m yours, yeah?” you asked, trying not to sound too desperate and needy—as much as you were too desperate and needy.

“oh, yeah, you're mine,” he told you before grabbing one of your breasts, transmitting a wave of pleasure that made you throw your head back leaving your mouth agape.

“oh, lando,” slipped out before you could stop it, leaving you feeling lighter yet more vulnerable than ever.

“baby… you can't be loud, my love; my parents are here, remember?” he said with a teasing smile, the seriousness of his words sending a rush of excitement through you. “if you moan, i stop, okay?” he added, his voice a mix of playfulness and dominance.

you nodded, a thrill of anticipation coursing through you. lando’s fingers worked magic as they moved on your sides and titties, sending shockwaves through you, your body responding eagerly to his every movement.

as you settled more comfortably on his lap, the heat radiating from his body made your skin flush. you pressed yourself against him, deepening the kiss as you felt him respond, his hands roaming down your sides, exploring every inch of you with a growing urgency.

involuntarily, your hips moved against his, eliciting a slight groan from him.

“ah god, you’re perfect,” he murmured against your lips, his breath hot and needy, and it sent a rush of warmth through you. you felt like you were losing yourself in him, every touch igniting a fire that left you breathless.

a thought struck you—what would happen now.

“lando, wait, wait…” you whispered, breaking the kiss just enough to speak—or rather, whisper. the intensity in his eyes only fueled your desire. “do you have a condom?”

“uh… no, fuck…” he shut his eyes when realizing the implications of not having a condom with him.

“oh…” you said, leaving his lap to lay on the bed.

you felt a mix of disappointment and frustration, knowing that this moment could slip away before it even truly began. the air between you felt heavy with unfulfilled tension, and you couldn’t help but wonder how you had arrived at this precipice, so close yet so far.

“but i can't leave you wanting,” lando said, his voice laced with sincerity.

“but what about you?” you pointed to his bulge, the undeniable evidence of his arousal pressing against his jeans.

“i’ll be fine, love. i wanna take care of you.” he turned to look at you, his eyes searching for reassurance.

“are you sure?” you searched his gaze for any hint of doubt, but all you found was the same want reflected back at you.

“i’ve never been this sure before,” he replied, his voice low and thick with desire. “i need you, love,” he admitted between leaving kisses across your shoulders and the crook of your neck.

“you’re so… fuck, y/n,” he breathed, his gaze burning into every part of your body until it finally landed in your white lace panties, soaked by your pussy juices. “ah, shit… you're so ready f’me, aren't ya?”

you felt yourself begin to spiral by the way he said it, lost in the pleasure he was giving you, the warmth of his skin against yours. you bit your lip, trying not to scream his name, but the more time moved, the harder it got.

the softness of the sheets contrasted with the heat radiating between your bodies when lando hovered above you, his eyes darkened with desire, searching yours for reassurance. you nodded slightly, and that was all the encouragement he needed.

“just breathe, okay?” he murmured, his voice husky as he pressed another lingering kiss to your lips, trailing down to your neck, where he placed soft bites and gentle kisses that made you gasp.

“lando,” you breathed. you craved more, but the vulnerability of the moment was almost overwhelming.

“i know, my love, i know, shh” he whispered back, his lips brushing against your collarbone. “just let me take care of you, m’kay? i’mma make you feel so good, love.”

with that, he shifted lower, trailing kisses down your body, each one igniting the fire within you further. he reached the hem of your dress, his fingers dancing lightly along the shimmering fabric before hesitating for just a moment.

“may i?” he asked, looking up at you with that boyish charm and sincerity you adored.

his hands were warm as they slid over your waist, fingertips teasingly grazing the delicate material before slipping his hand beneath it. he reveled in the feel of your skin, the warmth radiating from your body contrasting with the chill of the fabric.

lando’s fingers slid beneath the lace of your panties, the fabric damp and clinging to you, sending electric sparks through your body. he took his time, savoring every moment as he explored you with the gentleness of a lover and the urgency of a man who craved you deeply.

“so perfect,” he murmured, more to himself, his voice thick with desire. his eyes locked onto yours as he slowly peeled away the fabric, exposing you completely. the heat in his gaze made you feel both vulnerable and empowered, igniting a fire deep within.

as his fingers danced over your most sensitive spots, your breath hitched in your throat. every stroke was deliberate, coaxing whimpers and gasps from you. you arched your back, instinctively seeking more, your body craving his touch.

“ah, god, y/n,” he breathed, his fingers moving in a rhythm that felt intoxicating. “no moaning, remember?” he added another finger just to watch squirm in pleasure.

“lando, please…” you gasped, the sensation overwhelming you. it was a heady mix of pleasure and anticipation, and you could feel the tension building, coiling tightly within you. “please…”

“do you want me to stop, y/n?” he dared.

“no…” your eyes fluttered shut as you cried out like a plea.

“then no sounds, alright?” you nodded, battling the overwhelming sensations as his fingers moved with expert precision. each stroke felt electrifying, and your body instinctively pushed against him, craving more.

you panted, feeling yourself unravel with each deliberate stroke. the urge to moan was becoming impossible to resist, especially as his fingers worked their magic, sending shockwaves through you.

his mouth trailed lower, and you could feel the heat radiating off him as he peppered kisses down your thighs, teasingly close to where you needed him most. you could hardly contain the whimpers that escaped your lips as he finally reached his destination.

with every kiss, every gentle touch, he ignited a fire within you that felt both exhilarating and frightening.

he took his time, his movements deliberate and intoxicating as he kissed your thighs, his breath sending delicious shivers through you.

“lando, please,” you breathed, the urgency in your voice undeniable.

he murmured, sending another wave of warmth coursing through you. he kissed you softly through the fabric, his breath hot and teasing, sending you spiraling closer to the edge.

you felt a rush of pleasure as he slowly moved aside the fabric, his mouth hovering just above you, eyes locked on yours. it was an unspoken promise, one that sent your heart racing. his gaze held yours, a silent question hanging in the air.

“you okay?” he asked softly, his voice thick with anticipation.

“yes, yes” you breathed, the word escaping your lips as a plea and a promise.

with that, he took you into his mouth, drawing you in with a gentle intensity that made you arch against the mattress. every movement was careful yet filled with a desperate need, and you lost yourself completely in the rhythm he created.

what lando’s tongue did on your pussy was almost obscene, the way he explored every sensitive inch of you with a fervor that sent jolts of pleasure racing through your body. his movements were both calculated and wild, as if he couldn’t get enough of the taste of you, the way your body responded to his every touch.

with each flick and swirl, you felt yourself unraveling, the tension inside you coiling tighter as he expertly guided you toward ecstasy. you couldn’t hold back the moans that escaped your lips, the sounds echoing off the walls of the room, mingling with the racing heartbeat that pulsed in your ears.

“lan,” you gasped, trying to catch your breath as your fingers tangled in his curls, urging him on. you could feel him smirking against you, the vibration of his laughter sending delicious shivers down your spine. he loved the effect he had on you, and it fueled his desire to give you everything you craved.

the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you, entwined in a dance of passion and intimacy. each wave of pleasure that crashed over you was met with a new height of exhilaration, leaving you gasping for more. lando's hands found your hips, grounding you as you surrendered completely to the sensations flooding your senses.

you could feel the warmth building inside you, a tight coil of pleasure that threatened to unravel at any moment.

“lando, i’m—” you gasped, your voice breaking as he increased his pace, his determination making your heart race.

“relax and let go for me, love,” he urged, his voice muffled against your skin. the way he said it felt like a gentle command, coaxing you to give into momentary bliss.

“you’re doing so well f’me, baby,” his praise was enough make you go over the edge, you couldn’t stand another second of staying quiet.

the soft, needy sounds that slipped from your lips ignited something primal within him, making lando moan against your pussy. the vibrations sent shockwaves through you, amplifying your pleasure and pulling you deeper into ecstasy.

“there you go,” he chuckled, his breath warm against your sensitive skin. “let it out. lemme hear you, love.” his fingers continued their sweet assault, each movement perfectly tailored to your body’s response, driving you wild.

“fuck, i’m… shit,” you gasped, gripping the sheets, struggling to articulate your need, but the sensations were too overwhelming.

you pressed him against you, craving more of that intoxicating connection.

“you’re so beautiful when you’re lost like this,” he whispered, looking up at you with a wicked grin. “don’t hold back; i wanna hear all those lovely sounds you make.”

the encouragement only fueled your desire, and the combination of his words and the way he touched you pushed you to the edge again. your moans became louder, spilling out despite your efforts to contain them, and each sound only seemed to spur him on.

“that’s it, baby,” he encouraged, his voice thick with lust. “let it all out for me. i want to feel every inch of you.”

you arched your back, the pleasure building higher and higher, each stroke of his fingers a delicious tease that had you begging for release. “lando, please, i can’t—”

“yes, you can. just let go,” he urged, his lips brushing against your thigh as he continued to work his magic, sending you spiraling further into pleasure.

the moment stretched on, each second a mix of bliss and sweet torture, and as you felt yourself teetering on the brink, you knew you were ready to surrender completely. “shit, i’m so close…” you breathed, unable to hold back any longer.

“that’s it, love. let it happen,” he coaxed, his fingers quickening as he pushed you over the edge, the pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave, leaving you gasping and trembling beneath him.

with one final stroke, the tension shattered, and waves of pleasure washed over you, leaving you breathless and gasping for air. you didn't fight the instinct to cry out as you surrendered to the bliss. for a second you forgot about lando’s parents and family, the world around you had faded away.

after the waves of ecstasy receded, you lay together in a blissful haze, the warmth of his body still wrapped around you, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your skin. the soft sounds of the party outside faded into the background, but you knew that this moment, right here, was all that mattered.

your body relaxed in a way that you didn't even care about what lando's parents would think about you screaming their son's name in the very first day of 2024. that moment was yours and no one would take that away from you.

“happy new year's, y/n,” he muttered against your hair.

“happy new year's, norris.”

the next morning, january 1st, 2024, you woke up alone. the bed felt strangely empty without lando beside you, a stark contrast to the warmth and intimacy of the night before. a nagging worry settled in your stomach as you pushed the covers aside and got up, glancing around the quiet room. after a moment’s hesitation, you made your way downstairs, curiosity guiding you but anxiety nipping at your heels.

in the now-clean kitchen, you found cisca, lando's mother, bustling around as she cooked breakfast. her presence was comforting, a reminder of the welcoming home you had come to cherish, but it did little to ease the tightness in your chest.

“good morning, y/n,” she greeted, glancing up with a warm smile. “did you sleep well?”

“yeah, just… where's lando?” you asked, the hint of worry creeping into your voice betraying your calm facade.

“he said he needed to think; he left about an hour ago,” she replied, stirring a pot on the stove.

“oh…” your heart sank, a mix of confusion and concern flooding your mind. why would he leave without saying anything? had you messed things up? the uncertainty twisted in your stomach, and you felt the warmth of last night slip away, replaced by the chill of doubt.

cisca seemed to sense your unease and turned to you, her expression softening. “look, y/n,” she began gently. “i know you two like each other, and i know… things happened last night. i just want to say that i am so supportive of you getting together. you do him so much good, dear.”

you felt your cheeks warm at her words, a mix of embarrassment and happiness washing over you. but the lingering thought nagged at you—that maybe lando regretted what happened last night, that perhaps he needed space because he was unsure about everything.

“thank you. it means a lot to hear that. lando and i have been close for a while, and last night... it just felt right,” you said, trying to convince yourself as much as her.

“wait,” she said, raising an eyebrow playfully, a teasing smile creeping onto her face. “so does that mean you’re actually together now?”

you paused, the weight of her question hanging in the air, amplifying the doubt already creeping into your mind. “i… well, we haven’t really talked about it like that yet, but... i guess? i don't know…”

her smile widened. “well, i’m glad to hear that anyway! he’s a wonderful boy, and you two deserve to be happy together.”

you nodded, but the uncertainty remained. what if lando was questioning everything? as you thought about him, your heart fluttered with the possibilities of what was to come, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something might have changed overnight. you needed to clear your head.

you excused yourself, feeling the weight of the morning's events pressing down on you. “i should go home and be with my relatives,” you said, trying to dismiss the anxious thoughts swirling in your mind.

as you stepped outside, the cool morning air hit you, and a wave of insecurity washed over you. what if lando regretted last night? you pulled out your phone and quickly typed a message to him:

“hey you, good morningg

you alright? didn’t see you leave.

text me when you can.”

you hesitated for a moment, staring at the screen, hoping he’d reply soon. with each passing second, the uncertainty gnawed at you, but you tried to shake it off and focus on the warmth of the memories from the night before.

[babysukiii]

regina’s puppy (1)

// regina has a soft spot for you, but when she refuses to accept why, someone else might swoop in and take your attention away from her. //

warnings: mean!regina (not to reader), protective!regina, oblivious/innocent!reader, pinning, mutual pining but reader thinks it’s one-sided, use of “y/n”.

regina george definitely has a soft spot for you. if you ask her, she’d refer to it as a weak spot; resembling more like an invisible bruise inside of her that only you could see. you’d push and push it, til it bruises some more. until she’d sickly do just about anything you ask. it wasn’t a secret either; regina could be in the middle of being the worst human being on campus, and you’d just walk up to her with those big eyes of yours.

“hey gina!”

“did you see the new shake flavor at sonic? wanna ditch and go?”

“i stayed up all night reading the bell jar!”

regina would shift her undivided attention onto you within a millisecond, and you didn’t even realize it. you were so obliviously innocent. you didn’t have an underlying reason for getting close to the queen bee, you just caught her reading a book one day and started talking her ear off about it. the blonde, who got pure joy out of making girls like you cry, for some reason didn’t have it in her to tell you to fuck off or call you a dork. there was something about you that regina couldn’t quite place; it was something that made her heart flutter in her chest.

maybe it didn’t fully hit regina just how bad she had it for you until junior year. it was the middle of fall, and you had rushed up to her with a pair of sad eyes. “hey gina.” you greet her, but it isn’t your usual eager greeting. regina looks away from the mirror in her locker, looking at you. her brows furrow and a wave of concern washed over her, as she realizes you appear upset. “what’s wrong?” she demands, not even bothering to say hi back. “stacy matthew’s said i can’t be in debate club. she says i’m really nice and that’s not what they’re looking for.” you admit, and regina can feel the rage course through her before she slams her locker shut.

“where the fuck does stacy matthew’s get off telling you that you can or can’t be in debate club? she’s a fucking dork. come on.” she grabs your wrist and your eyes widen, shaking your head in protest but the blonde is already set on giving the raven haired girl a piece of her mind. nobody was going to make you sad and get away with it. “gina it’s okay i—“ you try but regina is already turning down the hallway, making her way up to a random group of students. they all go quiet as soon as regina is near. “where’s matthew’s?” regina questions demandingly, causing one of the students to nearly begin to tremble.

“st-stacy? she’s in the library i think—“ regina doesn’t even let the poor girl finish before she’s dragging you in the direction of the library. you weren’t really sure what you were expecting when you told regina about why you got rejected from the debate club, but this certainly wasn’t it. you weren’t expecting her to storm into the library. “everyone out.” she commands, and just like that, every student in the library is scurrying out. “not you.” the blonde hisses as she glowers at stacy who was in the middle of gathering her belongings. you watch the girl tense up, freezing, and a part of you feels guilty because of how terrified she looks.

“so it’s come to my attention that you think your dorky little debate club is too good for y/n…” regina trails off, and stacy’s eyes widen as her gaze flutters over to you. “don’t look at her for help, look at me.” regina snaps her fingers in stacy’s face; her behavior should cause you to be horrified, yet you can’t deny the heat at the bottom of your belly that comes from watching regina defend you. “it’s not— i didn’t say we were too good, i said she was too nice, regina. you know it too, that’s why you’re here debating for her.” stacy’s comment causes you to look down at your shoes, knowing she isn’t wrong.

“y/n is smarter than you will ever be. her gpa is higher than yours, and she had better exam grades last year. she doesn’t need to be a cunt to debate, she just has to be right… and she always is. you didn’t deny her a spot in your club because she’s too nice. you’re afraid she’s better than you.” regina hits her right where it hurts, and the way stacy’s face morphs into an ugly angry expression causes your eyes to widen. you had actually believed stacy when she said you were too nice for debate club, but now as you watch her react to regina’s accusations, you realize she only said that because she didn’t want you in the club at all.

“i’ll give you the rest of tonight to reconsider giving her a spot on the debate team. if you don’t, i have no control over whether or not the club gets banned… i mean, considering my parents are the ones who fund it.” regina puts on her best falsified sorry expression, and it causes stacy’s eyes to widen at the threat. her eyes lock with yours before regina clasps a hand around your wrist. she drags you out of the library, muttering angrily as she does so. “ugh, the nerve of that fucking bitch.” regina sounds genuinely upset, and you frown.

“you didn’t have to do that…” you whisper, barley being able to find your voice. she comes to a stop, turning around to face you with a deadly serious expression etched onto her features. “i did because you would’ve just let it go. she can’t just act like the queen of debate club; even the cheerleaders started being inclusive!” regina rambles a bit, and you can’t stop yourself from giggling. “yeah but i’m pretty sure debate club is all stacy matthew’s has. it’s fine. i mean, it’s not fine, but it’s clearly more important to her.” you shrug easily and regina huffs in clear frustration.

“that’s exactly why people think you’re too nice! you can’t just let people do or say whatever they want to you, and just let it go! just twelve minutes ago you wanted to cry about it.” regina points out, and you press your lips together. “if i held on to it every time someone upset me, i’d be a really sad person.” you confess lightly, but this does nothing to ease regina’s anger. “well, i’ll hold on to it for you. she’s going in the burn book.” regina mutters the last part, making you a quirk a brow at her. “the burn book?” you question, and she purses her lips tightly, realizing she might have said to much.

“it’s just this thing the girls and i have been working on…” regina’s demeanor shifts, and your brows knit together. “you and the girls? as in gretchen and karen? can i see?” you ask hopefully, and regina shakes her head quickly “no way.” she answers, and as soon as she sees you deflate, a look of disappointment taking over your features, she relents. “it’s not finished yet, and it’s kind of a secret…” she trails off, “i promise i won’t tell anyone! at all! not even riley.” you promise, mentioning your best friend who’s being home schooled this year. regina chews on her bottom lip; she’s well aware the burn book is just a harsh joke her and her friends came up with. but she isn’t sure whether you’d think it’s funny or not.

though regina can’t seem to be able to tell you no. “okay, but most of it was gretchen.” she lies as she begins to lead you towards the exit of the school. karen and gretchen furrow their eyebrows in clear confusion as they watch their best friend leave with you. even though school ended almost half an hour ago, usually regina would opt to hang out with the plastics. sometimes she even just stayed after school to “ogle” the football team during practice. but here regina was, leaving school with you. sure, her friends knew about her weird tolerance of you… but now you were hanging out?

“wait are we going to your house?” you ask uncertainly as you both approach her expensive car. she flashes you a look that says “duh”, “that’s where the book is.” she states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “shouldn’t you call your mom and ask her for permission for me to come over?” you inquire timidly, and although the butterflies in her stomach flutter due to how adorable you are, she rolls her eyes feigning annoyance. “she doesn’t care. get in, loser.” she commands, and you immediately obey; getting into the passenger side.

regina’s car smells like her perfume, and the backseat is messy. “your moms so cool for letting you drive by yourself with just your permit.” you say out loud and regina shrugs, “she’s alright.” she mutters as she hands you her phone. “pick a song.” she insists and your cheeks flush. “o-okay.” the way you stutter causes you to mentally facepalm, but regina finds it hard to stifle a smile at how cute she finds you. you put on a taylor swift song, and she snorts, “so cliche.” she says, her eyes unusually soft, as the sky and your heart does this pathetic little lurch at the sight of her smiling. regina looks so beautiful when she smiles; it almost makes you forget how she almost made stacy matthew’s piss herself a little while ago.

regina’s house is even bigger than you imagined. you knew her family was rich, but you didn’t think they were this wealthy. your eyes are as big as dinner plates as you look around the house. as soon as you walk in you can hear regina’s little sister in the living room; practicing dance routines in front of the tv. “ignore her that’s my sister kylie. everything she does, i did it first.” regina retorts simply, and you raise your brows as you follow her through her house. “hi honey! i made lunch— oh, who’s this?” a woman who you assume is regina’s mom comes out of the kitchen.

she’s wearing tight leggings and a top that barely covers anything. regina grimaces at the sight of her mom, “this is my friend, y/n. we’re gonna be upstairs for awhile. don’t bother us.” she warns harshly, and you offer the older woman a bashful smile. “it’s nice to meet you, mrs. george.” you let out before regina pulls you up the stairs, and towards her room. “your mom seems… nice.” you say as nicely as you can, and she scoffs. “she’s totally embarrassing. she lives vicariously through me.” she deadpans as you both walk into her bedroom.

her room is exactly how you imagined it. it’s pink and girly; there are various posters of celebrities on the walls. her bed was huge. “your room is so cool!” you exclaim, and she tries to fight the grin tugging at her lips. “it’s okay. i’ve been meaning to redecorate it, but i’m gonna make gretchen do it.” regina snickers and you giggle. “that’s mean.” you halfheartedly respond, and she tenses up. she wonders if you’ll laugh that way when you see the burn book. even though you aren’t in it, she isn’t sure if anyone you know is.

“so where’s the book?” you ask curiously as you take a seat on the corner of her bed. regina’s smile falls as she keeps her back to you, she reluctantly disappears into her closet, only to reappear with a big pink book in her hands. your eyes light up as she makes her way over to you, and sits by you. “you have to promise you won’t leave after reading this.” she states stringently, making you pause. you look at her in confusion, “it’s just… this book is like a fucked up version of the year book. we make fun of all the girls from school in it.” she admits hesitantly, and your face falls.

“am… am i in it?” you quietly ask, and regina shakes her head rapidly. “no! no, you’re not.” she promises and you nod. “okay, so why would i get mad?” you question, and regina sighs as she opens the book. you begin to read all of the cruel things her and her friends write about other girls. when you get to the part where regina makes fun of becky martin for getting a bob freshman year, you involuntarily giggle. suddenly there’s this lightbulb that lights up above her head.

“y/n, you should sit with me at lunch tomorrow.” she says, and you tense up, prying your eyes away from the burn book to look at regina. “you mean with you and the plastics?” you ask uncertainly, and regina rolls her eyes. “why does everyone call them that?” she mutters, and you shake your head. “because you’re all perfect like plastic barbie dolls.” you answer simply, and this causes the blonde to quirk her eyebrows to her hairline. “you think gretchen and karen are perfect?” she asks with a scoff, and you nod quickly. “duh! you’re all so… pretty. everyone knows girls like me don’t sit at the “it” table.” you half joke, and regina rolls her eyes.

“i decide who sits at that table, and i’m deciding you’re sitting there with us from now on.” regina stringently states, her tone indicates she’s up for no debates. “we’ll start by giving you a makeover.” she declares, as she gets up. “come on, we’re going to the mall.” she adds, and you throw her an “are you serious” sort of look. “gina… i really don’t think that’s a good idea.” you try, but she pulls you off the bed, and onto your feet. “i’m already picturing how cute you’d look in bellbottoms.” she says, as she drags you out of her bedroom, the burn book long forgotten.

“i can’t buy bellbottoms! they’re like forty bucks a pair!” you stress, as regina leads you down the stairs, never once letting go of your hand. “i have my dads card, relax.” she assures you easily, and you frown, but don’t protest. you know better than to try and argue with regina, especially when you’d let her get away with anything and you think she knows it.

regina ends up spending over four hundred dollars on you, much to your dismay. no matter how much you protest, or try to secretly put items back, she was hellbent on giving you a makeover. thankfully regina claimed you had flawless features that didn’t need makeup, so you avoided the makeup stores altogether. when regina drops you off at your house, you have a hand full of shopping bags and you have to rush to your room in secrecy. fortunately your brothers are too transfixed with some horror video game, and your older sister was nowhere to be seen.

as soon as you’re in the privacy of your bedroom, you let out a little breath. today was the strangest day ever. you were used to your strange friendship with regina, but it was usually only a few meaningful conversations here and there. regina george was never full on “queen bee” around you for some reason, but she had never defended you like she did today. a part of you felt bad about telling regina what stacy did, but the way the blonde threatened the debate teams captain for you made your heart flutter.

tomorrow you were having lunch with regina and “the plastics”; you had to pick an outfit before you went to sleep which was out of the ordinary for you. you’ve never been the type to get ready for school, but there’s this insistent need to impress regina that you suddenly have. the way she ogled you when you had tried on the out of character outfits made your stomach tingle. the nerves in your body only increase as you think about it. as you stare at the various shopping bags, you know there’s no going back now; you feel indebted to regina george.

[ceesimz]

Reverie - Part 1

Autistic Reader x Barça Femení - Part 2

Hey, I have some things to say before you start reading. ASD is a very vast spectrum, no two people with it experience the same stuff on a day-to-day basis. This story is written with my knowledge from people I know, and also from my own experiences living with autism too. So don't take this as 'the' perspective, this is a drop in the ocean and this most definitely isn't a handbook on autism. If anyone has any questions or thoughts about this, or ASD in general, you are more than welcome to message me or drop something in my inbox! This is just part one, if you like this first half of the story (because I have no idea how this will go down), let me know if you wanna see the second part, it's ready to go whenever.

Big big thanks to @copper-16 for editing it and leaving such lovely comments on it, I wouldn't have the confidence to post this if it wasn't for your words. Thank you for taking a chance on this story and opening yourself up to learn more, the world needs more people like you and we're all much better off that you're here🫶🏼🫶🏼

This is my favourite thing I've ever written, and I kinda feel like I'm giving away a piece of my heart by posting this (dramatic much), let me know what you think, hope you like it :)

“Are you ready to go in?”

Are you?

Are you ready to walk into a new setting, head held high, and show your teammates you are worth it? 

Or are you going to back out? Reverse right out the parking space, speed off to the airport, and catch a flight to god knows where?

That's simply not a possibility. Even if the thought of walking through those reception doors that stare tauntingly at you from across the car park perturbs you more than anything else, there's no backing out now.

Barcelona, the pride of Catalunya, the dominants of Europe, doesn't accept quitters. And that fact glares at you, along with all of its history and values held in the iconic badge that countless legends had adorned, and with it came a legacy you weren’t sure you had the strength to bare on your back. The new number nine, born and raised in Norway but made into the player you are now in Germany.

Here you were, after five years playing for Frankfurt, where you had grown accustomed to a comfortable routine with familiar faces and the same surroundings for so long, now in a new country that held so many unknowns. For someone with so many disadvantages ever present in their life, living in three different countries is a pretty impressive achievement.

Please, let it all be worth it.

After a few frustrating years in the Frauen-Bundesliga, you had signed for the best team in Europe and, arguably, the rest of the world too. Frankfurt had been a beautiful experience, one that had changed your life, but as a result of many, many long discussions with family and friends and psychologists, you had come to the terrifying realisation that it was time for a new challenge.

Why was that absolutely petrifying? Because you and life changes did not get along. Even after 26 years of living, it just wasn’t meant to be. But, such is life, and chances had to be taken.

You'd always be thankful for Frankfurt. Moving to play there was the first time you took such a huge leap of faith, and it had worked out well, eventually. In your eyes, the first season there was a disaster, but your mother would say it was the proudest year of her life. It had been difficult for her to see at times just how much you struggled at points, sure, but you made it to the light at the end of the tunnel and, by the end of it, you were a completely different person in the most incredible way possible. From then on, you continued to grow.

Yet, that was the thing with the German side. When you joined, they were a club with a legacy most teams would envy, but they never amounted to anything more during your time there. You fell in love with the staff, your teammates, and just about everything else during your time there. The only problem, which was pretty damn big in the grand scheme of things, was that you fell out of love with the football you were playing.

You were able to grow and survive at Frankfurt. You wanted to flourish and thrive at Barcelona.

Except, in comparison to the average human, there were a lot more obstacles ahead that could prevent you from accomplishing that aspiration. Over your life, you had overcome many bumps in the road, some leaving a harsh imprint on your self-worth and others hardly affecting you. For example, talking to the girl you were roomed with at 16 at the Norway Football Team camp had turned out to be one of the best things you could have done. Yet, in the same breath, playing for the national team had left you in a broken state, and as a result, you haven't played for them in a few years. 

The back and forth travel was too much, and opting out of playing for Norway, as much as it broke your heart that you weren’t strong enough to represent your country on the international stage, it allowed you to rest and recuperate so that you were at the top of your game for your club. Did you dream of wearing your country’s crest one day? Yes, all footballers did. But you weren’t in a place to do that, and you’re not sure you ever will be again.

Signing for Barcelona could be life-changing, but it could also be world-shattering in the worst way imaginable. This was a pretty sizable leap of faith, and the only way that faith could form into something incredible is if you made that happen. You, no one else. That thought filled you with both determination and crushing anxiety. This just could not be another failed attempt. There was no way you could come back.

Ultimately, it would have been downright psychopathic to turn down such an amazing offer from Barcelona. Two years playing for a club that's won three of the last four Champion's League finals? A team that had just completed the quadruple for the first time in their history? Yeah, nonsensical.

However, like always, there were a number of doubts that spiralled from those incredible stats. Did they need you? If they had a mostly flawless season, did they really need a 26 year old woman whose mind hardly functioned like every other person? Did they really need someone who couldn't even play for the national team anymore because they were too overwhelmed with their life? Did they need someone who needed their hand held through every life event, big or small? Did they-

“Hey, you ready?” 

That voice had some kind of magic to it. It was like clock-work, this always happened when she was around; that voice in your head consuming you with unwanted thoughts was erased as soon as you tore your eyes away from the doors and looked at the woman beside you. 

Ingrid. The one person that had single-handedly convinced you to come here. To Barcelona, playing in a hot country, with people you don’t know, speaking a language you can’t understand- oh my God, what have you done?!

“I… god, I don’t know.” You breathed out in a whisper, hardly intelligible. 

The world around you honed in on this one moment here, the peak of your career so far. Apart from Ingrid and the doors to the building and what was in store behind them, there was nothing else that could grasp your attention. There could be a blazing fire behind your car, a lion running full speed towards your car door, or a thief in the back seat for all you knew. Nothing else mattered. The two sides of your mind, the devil and angel on your shoulders were battling it out again, as they always were, whilst your hands fidgeted anxiously in your lap.

“You have to go in at some point, snuppa. You can’t stay in the car forever.” Ingrid softly reminded you, moving to take hold of your hand to comfort your stimming. “It will be a really good day, I promise. My years here so far have been the best of my life, everyone is so nice and welcoming. I never thought I could enjoy training as much as I do now. You will be fine, I have no doubts.”

“I’m not sure about that one.” You laughed nervously, eyes back on the building before you, now slightly glazed over and blurred. 

“I am certain about everything I just said.” Ingrid stated definitively, squeezing your hand. “Plus, not everyone in there are complete strangers. You have me, Mapi, you know Caro and you’ve met Jonatan and some other staff members. You know Loren, the team psychologist who you can go see any time you want. We’ll get you past this part of today, and then you have the whole afternoon to do whatever you’d like.”

You nodded at her words, desperately trying to remind yourself of them over and over so that they stick, and you can get through those damn doors. 

“You know how much easier my life would be if I knew how everything was going to play out?” You blurted out a moment later, Ingrid smiling in amusement. “It would be a breeze, Ingrid.”

“It would also make your life very boring, min skatt.”

“For you, it would be. For me, I'd live freely.”

Ingrid just laughed and shook her head, squeezing your hand once more before looking at the time on her watch.

“Come on. We have to do this one way or another, and I'm not letting you go in on your own. You want to make me late to training?” She teased, targeting your weak spot. Evil.

“That's cruel, Ingrid. So cruel.” You rolled your eyes but nevertheless stepped out of the car once you'd turned it off.

You didn't make it far though. Once you had gotten your kit bag from the boot of the car, you closed it and froze. Eyes unmoving from the daunting building in front of you.

“Would you like some company after training? We can stay at home, or go out for food, or do anything you'd like.” Ingrid offered, snapping you out of your anxious trance.

Even after… god, ten years now, you were still sometimes left dumb-founded by how well Ingrid knew you. A lot of the time, you yourself are in the dark about what you need, but your fellow Norwegian just gets it, even when you don't. It's pretty safe to say that your life, your whole career, would look a hell of a lot different if you had never met Ingrid.

If you put her characteristics into a different section when it comes to your favourite things about her, the thing you love most about the defender beside you is how she treats you. Sure, the majority of people treated you with respect and kindness, but the defender's love and care was on a whole other level. Like in this scenario now, when she knows you're too overwhelmed by the situation that confronts you to be able to think clearly. But here she is, giving you clear and thought-out options that off-kilt the tunnel vision you have on this one miniscule event, and now gives you something to look forward to. 

It reminds you that the world won't end if this training session doesn't go how you want it to, that life goes on afterwards. It makes the road clearer, the journey easier, and allows solace to be found in a down-right terrifying moment.

The funny thing is, however, is that your new home is actually Ingrid's home. No, you weren't living with her, but you were indeed staying in her apartment. She basically lived at Mapi's apartment anyway, so the second she caught wind of your transfer, she immediately offered her disregarded apartment up to you. It was a huge item checked off the ‘things that need doing after uprooting your entire settled, content, perfectly routine life’ to-do list, but you couldn't quite relish in the relief yet.

That's because, though it went unsaid, another factor of Ingrid's offer of letting you stay was so that, if all went wrong and you couldn't make a life for yourself in Barcelona, there was no tenancy to rip up and ultimately it would be a lot less hassle than if you had rented an entirely new place. Ingrid's excuse of not changing your name on the tenancy for now was so that you could settle in with as little stress as possible, but you knew the underlying meaning. Basically, it was a giant get out of jail free card.

“I think I would like that a lot, actually. Thanks.” You said to the taller girl next to you, whose arm had come to wrap around your shoulders.

“Perfect! María has some things to do but I'm free all afternoon, so we can figure something out. For now though, we have to train.” 

Taking in a deep breath, you nodded once more.

“That's all it is. Just training.” You told yourself, physically shaking the anxiety off of your chest and marching forwards. You got as far as those damn doors before you froze on the spot again. “Fuck, this is so scary.”

“I know it is.” Ingrid sympathised, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “We've got this though. It's just training, right?” 

“It's just training. And a few introductions. And about a million new people.” You sighed. “Will you stick with me the whole time?”

“Like glue, søster.” Ingrid said firmly, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Let's go.”

And just like that, you did walk into the building with your head held high, disregarding the burdening nerves and replacing them with a deep-rooted determination to prove you are worth it. Maybe your teammates would think otherwise if they knew the secret you were keeping from them, but for now, you would put up a front and act just like them. Your best bet at succeeding here is to fit in, and that's what you'll do. 

Ingrid wasn't impressed with this tactic of yours, not in the slightest. Jonatan and other senior staff members knew about you, Loren the psychologist knew about you, and Mapi knew. Besides that, everyone else was in the dark. There was only so long Ingrid could last before she had to tell someone at least, like Alexia or Irene or Marta, because she wanted the best for you and the best couldn't be given if your needs weren't catered for.

Like now, as she watched your whole face change in a split second as the mask came down so fast that, had she blinked a second later, she would have missed it entirely. The tension to the way you held your shoulders was all the evidence she needed that your whole nervous system was wracked with dread, and though she should expect it by now, it didn't stop the jab of sympathy she felt for you.

Of course she knew how difficult this would be for you, she just had really high hopes. Sometimes, even after all these years, it slipped her mind how much you still struggled with things. You'd gotten a lot better at dealing with various different circumstances and that mere fact could bring tears to her eyes if she thought about how far you had come, but moments like these were a snap back to the reality you still lived.

You lived so beautifully, you were so strong now, that your struggles were hardly visible anymore. Yet, when one knows a person for so long, they come to learn the signs. Ingrid knew you like the back of her hand. It still amazed her how quick you put the mask back up, normally being so care-free and light around her. But here, outside of the room everyone was due to meet in for the morning, a feigned smile on your face and a falsity to your posture signified all that Ingrid needed to know.

Even despite your dawdling in the car park, you and Ingrid were some of the first to arrive at the meeting, only a handful of unfamiliar faces scattered around the room. Jonatan looked up at the door upon your arrival and his face lit up, immediately dropping what he was doing to come and greet you with a beaming smile. He offers a gentle handshake, also being sure to speak in clear English so that your mind wasn’t overloaded more than it already was. All of it was reassuring, especially as he kept you off to the side as the room slowly began to fill up, before guiding you to the last chair on the front row beside Ingrid so that the meeting could start. Thankfully, to your relief, he gave you a short introduction to the rest of the squad, you only briefly turning and giving the room a general wave before allowing Jonatan to move onto more pressing matters.

From then on, you were rushed off your feet with introductions and training, all of which weren’t half as bad as you’d expected. During the short walk from the meeting to the changing room, a few others came along to properly greet you, all whilst Ingrid stayed close to your side. Mapi had also come bounding along after you the second you left the first room, Ingrid wincing at the excitement her girlfriend met you with but instantly that worry was erased as soon as you turned to Mapi with a matching overjoyed smile. 

By the time you actually got onto the pitch, you had spoken to almost all of the team already. And like Ingrid said, they were just as amazing as you had hoped they would be. Every single one, in their own ways, welcomed you to the team and made small talk with you for a few moments before letting whoever next came by to have their own chance at greeting you. But, it wasn’t until you were about to join in with the warm-up that the person you’d been most nervous about meeting came along.

Your new captain, Alexia. The powerhouse of the Barcelona team, the one you had to leave the best impression on.

A few days prior, amidst a conversation in the corner of Ingrid’s favourite cafe, you had sheepishly demanded that she give you a run-down of each and every single member of the team. There had been Ona, who Ingrid described as a lightning fast defender whose jestful clapbacks were even quicker than her sprint bursts on the pitch. Then Cata, the new number one goalkeeper whose cheek was sometimes too much for even the younger members of the team. Jana, a surefire future talent who was often found beside her quieter, more reserved but equally talented counterpart, Bruna. Patri and Pina were much the same, as were Vicky and Salma. Ingrid gave you a short but detailed profile of all of them, leaving the most important for last. Alexia, who initially came across as slightly cold due to the stoic, focused expression she usually wore. But, to her teammates and those closest to her, she was a world class leader, an even better player, and most importantly, a defiantly caring person with a personality that had more sides than a kaleidoscope. 

Upon hearing the exit door slamming shut, you turned your attention to the direction of the sound, only to be met with her. Casually strolling over, squinting in the face of the sun, she came over to you with a… a smile on her face?

“Hola! You must be the novota, nice to meet you.” She beamed, inviting you into a quick, polite hug before standing back. “Happy to be here?”

As always with new people, especially someone like the woman before you, you floundered internally for a moment, so many replies flitting around your mind with so little time to react.

“Y-yeah! Really happy to be here, thank you, Alexia.” You landed on, and judging by her reaction, it was the right thing to say. 

“Good, I am glad to hear that. Sorry I was not here for the meeting, you’ve met everybody already, sí?”

“Yes, Jonatan introduced me in the briefing.” 

“Good. Bueno, let’s get started. I am excited to be working with you.” The Spaniard smiled brightly once more, before gesturing loosely for the pair of you to join the rest of the group.

The rest of the day, as they say, is history.

It honestly went by in a blur, and if Ingrid was at all surprised by the way you literally fell into your bed when you arrived home, not surfacing from the newfound safe haven until about an hour later, she didn’t show it. This was Ingrid after all, and every quirk of yours, new or old, still brought a smile to her face. Ten years later and she couldn’t help but love you more each time she saw you.

—

The first week goes a lot smoother than you could have dreamed of to be honest - it’s only the start of preseason after all. But, there is still plenty of time for cracks to show. It only takes two days for all your progress to tear at the seams.

On the first day of your second week, you’re walking into training on your own for the first time since you joined. Shouldn’t be a big deal, right? Wrong! Big fucking deal actually, because now it’s like walking blind, heading straight for what feels like danger. Unguided, no one by your side, only joined by the weight of an elephant seated right on your heart.

With the help of Ingrid of course, who else, you had established somewhat of a routine that made the transition so much easier. But it wasn’t quite clear until now, just how much easier it had made showing up to training everyday. Because, without your Norwegian counterpart who would be absent from training, you were left to show up all alone, and suddenly everything became ten times harder. 

Ingrid was more than just your friend, she was the one constant in this new life you lived that was always present. Anything you needed, one glance from you in her direction and she’d be with you in an instant. She, as stupid as it may seem, was the foundation of your routine, and now that she wasn’t here, all the hard work you’d made to settle in seemed to crumble under your feet. 

Three weeks of living in Barcelona, one week of training successfully completed, just for you to end up back at square one. And that meant you were trapped in your own body, limbs acting entirely on autopilot as your legs carried you over to those stupid doors that once again stood intimidatingly in front of you. Just like last week, except this time there was no one to coax you out of your shell, no one to mindlessly guide you over to one of the tables in the canteen, no one to walk you out onto the training pitch. You were all alone.

An unfortunate tactic hadn’t left your habits after all these years: avoidance. What better way to deal with something, then to not deal with it all, right? Right? 

Obviously, you couldn’t miss the whole day, you still had commitments and expectations you needed to live up to. If there was one thing that you couldn’t handle (apart from almost everything in this neurotypical world) it was letting people down, disappointing them.

So, if you opted out of breakfast for the day and beelined straight for the changing rooms instead, what business was it to anyone else? You were here, that’s all they could ask for. The plan was to get dressed into your training kit as fast as physically possible, before heading out onto the pitch for some time alone before everyone else came along. 

…Except, just as you were lacing up your boots, hand trembling at an embarrassing intensity as you did so, the door opened prematurely. And, really, out of everyone, did it have to be her?

“Oh. I did not expect anyone to be in here. Bon dia.” Alexia smiled at you, heading to her cubby just a few seats away from yours.

“Bon dia.” You muttered sheepishly, keeping your head down and tying your laces at a wildly uncontrolled speed. If Alexia noticed, she didn’t mention it. Thank god.

“I was just going to get some extra practice in, if you wanted to join me.” She offered, swapping her trainers for her boots since she was already in her training gear.

Great minds think alike..?

“Yeah, I was going to do the same thing. Thanks.”

“Ay, it's nothing. It's great that you're so hard working, you’re already fitting right in.” Sorry, could you say that again, or write it down even? “Ready?”

“What? Oh- sorry, yes, I’m ready.” You gave her a tight-lipped smile before slipping past where she stood in the doorway and heading towards the pitch.

“How are you feeling about your time here so far?” The captain asked kindly, the beating sound of boots clicking against the floor echoing far too long in your ears.

“Um, good. It’s an honour playing for this team, so.” You shrugged, offering an almost robotic, rehearsed answer.

“And what about how you actually feel? Not what you’re supposed to feel?” Alexia inquired lightly, an earnest and sympathetic look across her face. Slightly suspicious.

“Well… still good. It’s just different, isn’t it. Yeah.” You mumbled, cheeks flushing bright red as you crossed your arms tightly over your chest.

“Of course it is different. You were in Germany for five years, right?” You nodded affirmatively. “So it is a big, big change. I haven’t been anywhere else but here for twelve years, I cannot imagine adjusting to anywhere else.”

Oh, Ingrid. Seriously?

“I’m here though, I have to leave Germany behind.” You stated in a flat voice, honestly quite done with this topic but it’d be rude to voice so.

“If that is how you want to think, then do it like that. You have transitioned very well, we are all impressed.” Alexia shrugged with a soft smile, punching in the code for the storage cupboard and opening it soon after. “Grab the footballs, I will get some tiny goals. The others can get the rest when they’re done filling their faces.”

Thank god for that.

Alexia ended that conversation there, directing her focus on training from that moment on, much to your relief. All that you learnt from this day was that you needed to have a conversation with Ingrid. Your sixth sense was strong, even if to others it seemed like Alexia was just being an averagely kind person, you just knew. 

The good thing was, you couldn’t quite call that day a disaster. In the end, you got through it, even squeezing in a few jokes and laughs here and there throughout the day.

It’s the next day that the first incident occurred. It happened like this; Ingrid isn’t in again, you learn she’s got some kind of stomach virus, so you turn up once more on your own. This time, it wasn’t quite so scary, but like yesterday you skipped breakfast again. And just like yesterday, Alexia met you in the changing rooms to do some early practice again. Except, there was one fatal flaw to your routine this day. It came back and bit you in the ass pretty harshly.

“Ale, what are you doing after this?” Mapi wondered from your right as she stood up after Jona had ended training for the day.

“Eh, nothing.” She shrugged, going to ask you the same thing as she reached her hands out to help you up.

For all you knew, the Spanish pair you were sandwiched between could be speaking absolute gibberish, nothing was registering. As soon as you stood up, everything went hazy. And then… your vision had gone, your body felt unbelievably heavy, and had it not been for Alexia’s tight grip, you’d have fallen back there and then.

“Hey!” Alexia called out in concern, feeling you go limp in her hold. “Mapi, she’s fainting!”

“What!?” Mapi cried, immediately falling to her knees as Alexia safely guided you to the floor.

“I don’t know, she just collapsed!” 

Her voice dripped with worry as Mapi frantically looked around, only to find most people had headed inside already. Meanwhile, you were still awake, not totally out cold, but your eyes ached unbearably and you’d lost all control of your movements. Alexia’s hands flitted over your body, looking for any obvious problems but she couldn’t find any. She repeated your name over and over, only receiving somewhat of a whimper in reply.

“Mapi, go find someone, now!” Alexia demanded, the defender instantly rising to her feet and heading for the door. The captain turned back to you, her hands gently coming up to cradle your face where you lay on your side. “Hey, I need you to listen! Can you hear me?”

“Mhm.” You whined, providing the woman before you with an ounce of relief.

“What’s wrong? You need to tell me so we can help you, cariño, you just fainted on us.” She said frantically, her wide eyes boring into yours when you opened them.

Identifying the problem, even in your state, was quite simple. It was a common problem, something you were well versed with, though you rarely ever let it get this bad.

“Forgot to eat.” You mustered up your remaining strength, which really was very little, to answer her and quell her worries.

Thinking back to this moment in probably an hour’s time, you’d laugh at Alexia’s face when you said those three words, because she looked utterly perplexed.

“You forgot to eat?” Alexia repeated with a frown, but she couldn’t dwell on it much longer because Mapi came running over with the medical team hot on her tails.

“Is she awake?” The brunette woman asked desperately, opting out of kneeling back beside you so as to not overcrowd you.

“Yes, and she said she forgot to eat today?” Alexia looked up at her friend, refusing to shift out of the way and instead choosing to stick by your side. 

“Oh, that would explain it.” Mapi sighed in relief, only puzzling Alexia more. Was this… normal for you?

The medics fussed over you, asking you questions and ultimately overwhelming you way too much, something Mapi notices quickly.

“Oye, basta, slow down. Her blood sugar is low, she needs something quickly. Get her an energy gel.” Mapi commanded them, now joining you by your head and smiling her bright smile down at you, combing back some of your hair. “Hola preciosa, we'll get you back feeling better soon.” Just as she said that, a member of the medical staff pulled out one of the energy gels the team used for games. “Can you have this for me? It will make you feel better, I promise.”

With a nod, the people around you helped you to sit up as Mapi tore  open the gel packet, with Alexia still almost frozen in confusion. The defender noticed, grinning in amusement and quickly flicking her ear to bring her back down to earth.

“Ah! What's that for?” Alexia winced, watching on as Mapi shook her head and handed you the gel pack.

Your hand trembled as you raised it to your mouth, hardly possessing the strength to squeeze it enough to get anything out of it, but just as Mapi went to help you, Alexia got there first.

“It’s okay, here.” She does it for you, one hand on the packet and the other on your elbow that shakes under her hold. She seemed to be grounded now, knowing that it isn't the right moment to be wrapped up in her own thoughts when you're here in front of her, needing security and comfort whilst it takes a couple minutes to come back to yourself. “Easy with it. You'll feel better soon.”

And you did, literally no less than two minutes after having the energy gel, your nausea and dizziness and whatnot near enough disappeared. Though, your physical symptoms gave way for a barrage of anxiety, because this situation would consequently lead to an unwanted and challenging (but most likely necessary) conversation with Jonatan and the rest of the staff. They had also seen you, on the floor, near enough passed out, as a result of your own actions. You could only imagine the things they were thinking right now, and that unknown was scarier than the actual situation that had occurred beforehand.

“Feeling good now. Thanks everyone.” You said shyly, rising to your feet and avoiding everyone's gaze.

“You sure?” Alexia checked, giving you a look that tells you that you shouldn't even try to bullshit her.

“Well, a little bit… woozy, I guess. But much better than before, I swear.” You nodded, hating the feeling of everyone’s eyes on you. 

“Let’s go inside, I’ll ask the catering staff to make up some food for you, if you want?” Mapi offered as her hand hovers against your back, not touching but guiding you back inside the main building.

“Okay.” You shrugged.

Meanwhile Alexia trailed behind, trying to figure out how, as captain, she could help this situation. It’s in her best interest to care for her team, and given what she had learnt, it was now clear that there was a lot more she could do than sit back and watch. She didn’t want to come across as overbearing, something Ingrid had warned her about, but she realised it was time to step in.

“Why don’t we go to one of the office rooms rather than the canteen?” She suggested just as Mapi went to open the door heading into said room. The defender should have thought of that sooner, but she’s glad her friend mentioned it, realising it’s most definitely the better option right now for you. 

You were taken to an empty office, followed into the room by Alexia and Mapi and some of the physios, and if they weren’t overcrowding you outside, they definitely were now. In all honesty, as much as you were grateful for their care, you wanted to burrow under your duvet in bed at home and not surface for probably about a week. You wanted to grab a tray of cookies, eat them whilst seated on the edge of your bed so you didn’t get crumbs everywhere, and crawl under the sheets safe in the darkness of the four walls you had struggled to leave the past two days.

But no, you were here, stuck in a reality that in no way felt real at all. What were you doing here? Sat at a round table, surrounded by medical staff chatting between themselves, not really bothered about your blip anymore, whilst two of Spain’s greatest players stand off to the side, both pairs of eyes trained solely on you.

You, a no-name off the back of an unsuccessful run in Germany that had just collapsed after training. Them, Champion’s League winners and well-established in the sport for years already, and decades to come.

“Preciosa?” Mapi appeared beside you suddenly, speaking softly as her hand fell on your shoulder. “Is it okay if I leave now? Ingrid is still sick at home, I promised I would get back to her as fast as I could. If you need me to stay, I can. They won’t keep you here for much longer, they’re just making sure you eat before you get back home.”

She should be with Ingrid, her girlfriend who is much worse off at home. Not with you, who simply made a foolish mistake and was now wasting everyone’s time.

“Go home.” You told her as your own hands squeezed anxiously at your upper arms where they sat crossed on the table.

“Okay.” Mapi smiled pitifully down at you, giving you a light forehead kiss before backing off. She pulled Alexia to the side, giving her a warning glare. “Look after her, for me and for Ingrid. Protect her, too. Don’t let them overwhelm her, she just wants to get home.”

“Sí. Of course.” Alexia replied firmly, a solid look in her eyes that Mapi knew to trust immediately. 

The defender slipped out of the room with no further fuss, leaving you alone with Alexia and the medical staff. Not for long, though.

“Guys, could you give us a moment? And can someone go collect her food from the canteen, please.” 

They nodded and stepped out of the room, Alexia closing the door softly behind them. She turned back to you, watching as you kept your head down and focused on the shapes you traced on the wood of the table. Your shoulders were visibly tense, so uptight they’re basically touching your ears, and she noticed just how intensely your leg was bouncing up and down.

“Do you need anyth-”

“Did Ingrid tell you?” You asked bluntly, gulping back the lump in your throat that really had no place making itself known at this moment - now was not the time for a meltdown. Save it for later, in the safety of your flat.

Alexia blew out a breath, coming over to perch on the edge of the desk a few seats away from you.

“If you’re talking about what I think you are, then… yes. She did tell me.” She answered cautiously, trying to gauge your reaction but you didn’t give her much, just a single nod. “She did it with the best intentions though. It wasn’t to… purposely go behind your back. She just wants the best for you, and the more people that know, the more support you can have here.”

“I guess.” You murmured under your breath, clearing your throat after and moving to rest your chin atop your arms.

“Why… why didn’t you want anybody to know?” The midfielder wondered in a soft tone, trying hard not to scare you off or go over the top. If she wants to help you and understand you, which she desperately does, this is the pathway she has to, albeit reluctantly, go down.

“Wanted people to get to know me, not a label.” You frowned, hastily wiping the tear that slips out with the frustration slowly bubbling inside of you. “Didn’t want to be a problem for anyone. Wanted to fit in.”

Just like that, it all clicked for Alexia.

The feigned smiles, sometimes forced laughter, the troubled look on your face whenever you thought you were alone, all of it adds up. You had repressed parts of you so that things went as smooth sailing as possible, so that people didn’t think any differently of you or immediately feel drawn away like they often did. The biggest part of you, what makes you you, is the one thing you didn’t want people to see, out of nothing but complete and all-consuming fear. And Alexia would be damned if she let you go on like this.

“Can I take a seat next to you?” She said quietly, a hint of a smile on her face when you nodded again. She did exactly that; without making too much noise in the still room, she pulled up the chair next to you and sat down, her eyes raking up and down your face.

“If I told you that I don’t think any differently of you at all, would you believe me?” She began with. 

You just shrugged dismissively, not having moved a single muscle in the past few minutes apart from breathing and blinking. If you don’t move, if you don’t draw attention to yourself, perhaps this whole thing will disappear. A girl can dream.

“Because I don’t, cariño. I really don’t. You are not a problem for any of us at all. You face different struggles than us, but nobody thinks of you as anything less than a great player and an even better person. We are all glad you are here. I and others on the team will face different struggles than you, and I can bet you would never think any differently of us. Am I right?” 

Her words break through the defensive wall you’d put up to protect yourself from anything else around you. A common feature of the start of your meltdowns, except it’s quite possible that your captain had just stopped it from going any further.

Hesitantly, you sat up from your slouched position and wiped tiredly at your face.

“No, I would never.” You told her, slumping back against your chair and fiddling with the drawstring on your shorts.

“Exactly. You don’t need to worry about any of that at all, I promise. You are one of us now. A culer. We will take care of you.” She smiled brightly, you can hear it in her voice. So for the first time since you’d entered the room, you turned to look at her, only to find her eyes were filled with earnesty and kindness. And… perhaps for the first time since you’d arrived in Barcelona, you truly did feel like you belong here. Like you could make a life for yourself here, against all odds.

“Thanks.” You sniffled, feeling the remnants of your outburst fade away, only to leave overwhelming exhaustion in its wake.

“It’s okay. You can come to me anytime for anything. There will always be someone here for you to talk to, and I’ll be the first to fight for you if that’s ever necessary.” Now, you were actually smiling. A genuine one, too.

“I think Ingrid might beat you to it, actually.” You teased her, watching as she grins.

“You’re probably right.” She chuckled, before pausing. You already knew what she was about to say before she opened her mouth. Neurotypicals are just way too predictable. “How did you know Ingrid told me?”

“You can just tell when someone knows. They treat you differently.” Alexia frowned anxiously at that.

“I didn’t… did I treat you differently?” She questioned, along with a poor attempt at disguising the undertones of fear in her voice.

“You haven’t, not really, but… I don’t know, I can just tell instantly. It’s hard to explain. You haven’t treated me differently, but I could tell you knew compared to when you didn’t know. The look on your face too. But thank you for… just everything so far. You have helped a lot, so.” You shrugged. She smiled, a little in relief, but nodded nevertheless.

“You don’t need to thank me. Now, can I ask some more about what happened today? You said you forgot to eat?” 

“Yeah. It’s just because my routine was messed up, that’s all. Yesterday morning I ate before training because Ingrid had baked me some pastries, but today I had none left and then genuinely forgot. It happens sometimes, it’s just part of it.”

“Part of what?”

“Autism.” Duh.

“Oh. I did not know that.” Alexia stated simply. 

“Yeah, well, most people don’t.” You told her. Alexia nodded understandingly, a plan of action already formed in her mind.

“I’m sure you already know this, as an athlete, but it’s important for your safety that this doesn’t happen again. So I have a solution in mind that could help.” You hummed to tell her to continue. “I can ask either the catering staff here, or find a private chef, to start meal prepping for you. We can organise it on the club’s behalf so that you don’t have to pay anything. I will go with you, or for you if you’d like, to Jonatan and help sort it out for you. You can meet with a nutritionist to figure out what food you need and tell them what you do and don’t like, we can sort it all out for you. It wouldn’t be a problem.” 

Oh. You’d never thought about that before. 

“I guess that could work.” You decided after a few moments of consideration. 

That would actually be a really helpful solution. Certainly one less thing to worry about, and it could add a secure layer to your routine. An important one too.

“Would you be okay with that?” Alexia wondered, smiling when you nodded. “Good. Leave it to me, I will get it sorted for you.” 

She paused again, clearly hesitant about something. You raised an eyebrow at her, trying to coax it out of her with a look, but you couldn’t help the amused smile on your face at the sudden, faint blush that landed on her cheeks.

“What is it?” 

“Uh… there is no way to ask this without coming across as… very forward, to say the least.” She started, shaking her head at her own ridiculousness. “May I get your number? For captain’s reasons, of course.”

“Right.” You smirked, watching as she shakes her head, this time at your teasing, and grabs a pen from the stationary pot in the centre of the table. “And what shall I write it on?”

“Well… just use my hand, I guess.” She suggested, offering the back of her hand out for you. You grinned and gently took hold of it, jotting down your number for her. 

“There you go, Capi.” You smiled, clicking the pen and putting it back.

Not long after that, one of the staff members came in with the food Alexia and Mapi had organised for you. So, leaving your captain with a promise that you'll eat it the second you walked through your apartment door, you went home. It was a great meal, and if it'd be the catering staff at Barcelona that would do your meal prep, well, it'd be a great deal.

That night went just like the others; you relaxed for some time to decompress after training, until you eventually started feeling somewhat human again, and arose from bed to do one of any of your hobbies that you felt like doing that night. Reading, watching movies, drawing and painting, listening to music, or any others that pique your interest that night. 

On some occasions, you'll be so mentally exhausted from your day that none of them seem at all appealing, and it takes a lengthy period of time to feel yourself again. An hour, the rest of the evening, or sometimes even the whole week. After especially hard times, it could take weeks. Fortunately you hadn't been through such events in years, but the fear of falling into that hole ever again was always present in the back of your mind.

The thing about having this disorder is that some things never change. Most things never change. You learn to cope, you can heal from past experiences, but in the grand scheme of it all, things never change. Certain events, people, even words can still be triggers. No amount of therapy or coping mechanisms or whatever, can help. You were born this way, and you would die this way. 

You would live a life and still struggle with even the most mundane things. Washing dishes was a no-go, the sensory issues were way too intense for that one. A day without showering first thing in the morning was automatically a write off. Bad performances in matches could still lead to a meltdown on certain days. One wrong look from someone can send you spiralling.

Autism was a blessing and a curse. It made you who you are; you have no idea who you would be without it. Yet, at the same time, it could debilitate you to such extreme degrees that… at night, when you were alone under the disguise of darkness,  you can't help but wonder what you could have done with your life had you not been born with this burden.

And with the day you'd had already, well, the only way you'd learnt to get over these things were to move on from them. That's what you had to do. If you become too concentrated on them, analysed every detail that went wrong, thought about every opinion those who witnessed it could hold, you'd suffer for it more than you needed to.

You couldn't move on if others couldn't move on though.

Unknown: Did you get home safe?

There was most likely only one person it could be, but where's the fun in that?

You: Depends who I'm talking to…

Alexia: It's Alexia??

Too easy.

You: I knew it was you, dumbass. Yes I got home safe, thank you. Food was great too :)

Although, when a few minutes went by after that last text, the doubts came flooding in. Did you take it too far with her? It was a bit ballsy to say that, she's just checking in on you. Captain duties.

Then again, who was it calling you?

“Hello?” You frowned, and this was another instance where you're cursing yourself, because why was your heart racing and cheeks burning at one random phone call?

“Dumbass, huh?” Came a smug voice, and then your heart was racing for another, more light-hearted reason.

“Yeah, sorry about that… apparently I'm a bit of a keyboard warrior.” You blushed sheepishly, relieved beyond belief when the woman down the line laughed.

“Don't worry about it. You're feeling okay now, sí?” 

“Yes, fine. You know, I didn't plan for today to happen. It just did.” You mumbled, still embarrassed by it all.

“I know, no one blames you for it. I just wanted to check in with you.” 

“I'm good, thanks. I've only ever had that happen like once before, I guess training on an empty stomach isn't the greatest idea in the world.” You joked lightly, Alexia humming in agreement.

“How does it happen? You said your routine was messed up, how did that lead to you forgetting?”

“It's a long story.” You sighed, but Alexia doesn't care.

“I have a free evening.” She said simply. This woman.

“Well… every training session so far, Ingrid has met me in the morning at my apartment beforehand so we can travel in together. She normally checks in with me, asks how I'm feeling and if I've eaten and whatnot. But she was ill, which I obviously don't blame her for, by the way. So not having her with me these past two days has terrified me quite a bit. She's basically the thing that holds my whole morning routine together. I guess, because she wasn't there, everything just flew out the window.” You explained, but things still weren't quite adding up in Alexia’s mind.

“So how does that relate to you forgetting to eat? Do you not get hungry?”

“Not like normal people do. One of the things with autism is that… we're not really in tune with our bodies? Like, I don't often get hungry or thirsty, I have to force myself to remember to eat and drink. And when I don't, I only realise I haven't done either of the two when I start feeling ill, like today. But food and drink feel like a chore, which is another reason I forget too. It's different when it comes to football though, being an athlete has taught me to be in tune with my body in terms of injuries, but not for anything else. It's weird.” 

“Wow, I never knew that before. That's interesting.” She commented. She's got a lot to learn.

“I prefer… inconvenient.” You said with a shy smile, glad to hear Alexia chuckle at that.

Unexpectedly, for quite some time after that, the pair of you just… talked. A lot. Like, for an hour. About everything - from what pastries Ingrid baked you, to a few more facts about yourself and your ASD, and everything in between. 

It's unnervingly natural. Fun too, but also a little odd. Is she doing it out of pity, or..?

“I almost forgot the other reason I called you.” She said out of nowhere, the smile on her face audible once again. “We have our pre-season dinner this Friday, the whole team is going. You should come.”

A dinner? At a restaurant? Oh god.

“Oh, I… it sounds good, but I don’t know, I-”

“Hey, why not?” She questioned gently.

“Just, they’re not really my scene.”

In a split second, Alexia attempted to think back on all she knew about anxiety to combine it with the very little information she knew about autism, hoping the two overlapped somewhat. Luckily for her, they do.

“The club rents out the restaurant so it’ll just be the team and a few senior staff members. It shouldn’t be too loud. It’s more like a celebratory dinner before the season starts, so there's no partying or anything like that at all. I really hope you come, but I understand if not. There’s no pressure.”

Damn you, Alexia.

“Okay. Okay, I'll go.”

—

Normal order resumed for the rest of the week; Ingrid recovered from her short 48-hour bug and returned to training like she hadn't even had a day off. Her being back also meant your mind was a hell of a lot more at ease, even if Alexia had offered to see you every morning. 

There was one other thing you were blessed with: obliviousness. Because, during the car ride to training the day after your phone call with the captain, the smirk that Mapi greeted you with in the rearview mirror after you tell her what happened once she headed home, is definitely not confusing at all. Definitely not.

That smirk made a comeback far sooner than you'd like. 

“Say that again?” Mapi asked with a squint to her eyes, forcing down the laughter she so desperately wants to let out.

“Alexia is driving me to the team dinner.” You repeated the sentence you'd just said for her, looking to Ingrid for help. “Ingrid, tell her to behave please.”

“María, come on. Alexia is just doing her a favour, you know she's not a fan of driving.” Ingrid said whilst nudging her girlfriend, though secretly she's hiding some intense excitement levels under her very good poker-face.

“Exactly! Screw you, Mapi.” You sighed dramatically, turning back to the mirror as you put your earrings in.

“So you're sure you don't need us to drive you there?” Mapi asked suspiciously, and there was that stupid smirk again. 

“Ugh, yes! I am making friends, you should be happy!” You groaned, fixing the shorter defender with a dagger-like glare in the reflection.

“More than fr-”

“Okay! Are you ready, snuppa? When is Alexia coming?” Ingrid interjected, discreetly stomping on her girlfriend's foot.

“She's on her way, she'll be here any minute now.” You answered after checking your phone. “You know, I can't rely on you guys forever like you're my parents or something. I love you, but I don't love you that much. And I'm sure you feel the same.”

“No!” Ingrid cried out in a way that's entirely too theatrical. She came over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I do love you that much, it's María you need to worry about.”

“I do worry about her sometimes. You should too, Ingrid.” You murmured, Ingrid humming in agreement as you watched her Spanish counterpart… busy herself in your fridge?

“María, out of there! We are literally going for dinner right now!”

“Ingrid, princesa, you need to work on your English- we're not at dinner ‘right now’, that is why I am in the fridge.” 

“Guys! Alexia is here, let's go. I'll see you at the restaurant.” You kissed Ingrid’s cheek and flicked Mapi’s forehead as you ushered them out the door, locking it behind you and making your way down to the ground floor.

Alexia was there, waiting for you whilst leaning against her car, and a smile tugged at her lips the second she saw you. You heard some commotion behind you, most likely Mapi being scolded by Ingrid, but you shut it out as you headed over to the midfielder, fighting back a ridiculously cheesy grin.

She greeted you the same way she did on the first day she met you - enveloping you in a warm hug that really shouldn’t be as comforting as it was. Not a big deal. Regardless, you both clambered into the car and made your way to the restaurant.

Thankfully, the evening went surprisingly well. It was a very low-key evening, just like Alexia said. In fact, you might even go as far as to say you enjoyed it, that’s a welcome revelation. And it seems you weren’t the only one that had discovered something new.

“Can I ask you something?” Alexia said on the drive back to your apartment.

“Sounds like there’s no stopping you.” You replied, smiling when she teasingly rolled her eyes.

“At dinner, when Patri asked why you don’t drink, you said ‘long story short, I don’t like it’ so I was just wondering what you meant by that?” Alexia asked, before almost immediately regretting it. “I mean, you don’t have to answer, it’s your business, but… if there’s anything we should be mindful about, then let me know.”

Who needed alcohol when you had a tendency to lose your inhibitions whenever you got too exhausted?

“No, not really any problems. I don’t have any issues with people drinking around me, I just have a bit of a history with it but it’s nothing big. It’s fine.” You shrugged, trying to keep your eyes open as the streets of Barcelona passed by your window. 

“What… what happened?” Alexia pressed gently.

“Well, when I was about seventeen, I started going through a really hard time. I had just dropped out of school, I’d had some trouble with friends, I was basically struggling quite badly. I started partying and drinking a lot, way more than I should have. Then I began to rely on it too much, just to get me through really basic stuff. It made me feel normal, it got rid of the voice in my head and it made me feel like a functioning person of society because it was what everybody else did. One day I decided it was best that I don’t drink at all, and it’s easier to tell people I don’t like it but actually I’m just scared of drinking because of all it reminds me of. So, I avoid it.” You explained, rather nonchalantly. 

The mental exhaustion was hitting hard that night, it was evident in the way you spoke. There was one explanation; dissociation. Dinners were not your favourite things in the world, they were a challenge to get through even when you were in the best company. Small talk, food, the sound of people eating, the scrapes of cutlery against ceramic, and the attention on some occasions being entirely on you? Yeah, a big no go. Which is why you were so tired, so distant, because your mind was in protection mode to keep you running until you got home.

Talking about your past was difficult, you’d come a long way and it felt counter-intuitive to talk about the bad times when you’d worked so hard to come to a good place. Yet, here you were, baring your soul about a topic you normally kept to yourself. You don’t even feel at least a little bit anxious at the fact you’d just spilled that secret. Alexia takes all the concern you normally feel and keeps it for herself.

“I’m sorry you went through that, cariño. Thank you for telling me.” She smiled sadly over at you, an ache growing in her heart at your defeated demeanour where you sit in her passenger seat. “Are you feeling okay? You don’t seem like yourself.”

“Tired. So tired.” You sighed. Even just talking felt like a chore in that moment. “Wanna get home, s’all.”

“Okay, we’re almost there now.” She said, “I’m proud of you for coming today. I know you weren’t a fan of the idea initially but you came, and everybody was so glad that you did. I am really proud of you, and so are Ingrid and Mapi too.”

The woman to your left surprised you everyday with each act of kindness she was showing. She hardly knew you, she hardly knew of your struggles, but she was adamant to learn and show just how deeply she cared. You were beyond grateful for her and all she’d said and done, even if you couldn’t verbalise that just yet.

All you could do was offer a simple nod, almost entirely mute as a result of how utterly overstimulating the day had been. You had loved it, sure, but sometimes when days like today left you in such a dejected state that you could hardly talk, there were still times if you wondered if fighting for a somewhat normal life was worth it. 

From then on, the rest of the drive home was silent. Alexia dropped you off, made sure you knew to contact her or Ingrid or whoever you felt comfortable speaking to should you need them, and that was that. You got inside, were barely able to get yourself changed, before passing out as soon as you got into bed.

—

A few weeks went by and it was more of the same. After that dinner, the team really clamped down and focused on getting everybody ready for the start of the new season. Training at Barcelona was different to anything you’d ever experienced before; it was intense, but light-hearted. There was competition, but it was healthy, everybody egged each other on even if they wanted to win. Ingrid was right, you had never found training this enjoyable before. You had to put that down to the people though, if it wasn’t for them then you’d never feel as comfortable as you do now. 

There were blips, there were still obstacles, but apart from that time you fell ill after training , there hadn’t really been any meltdown-inducing moments. Just a lot of burn-out and exhaustion, but you were near enough a pro at dealing with that now. 

The environment was… perfect for you. And one factor of that outcome is definitely down to the help of the famous three you had near enough attached yourself to since your arrival.

But the main factor to how well you had settled in was down to you. At some point along the way, not that the exact date mattered or anything (at exactly 12:02 on Monday the 26th of August), you hit a milestone that you had never managed to reach before. 

It was unplanned, but once the initial shock had worn off and the anxiety left, you teared up in the arms of Ingrid at the pride you felt towards yourself. Then Mapi joined in with the hug, and so did Alexia, then… so did the whole team too. 

For the first time, you were honest with your team. For the first time, you told them that you had autism. And for the first time, you weren’t suffocated by that prospect. When they all came together to hug you, it wasn’t just a physical embrace, it was them fully accepting you even with this burden you held and championed every day of your life. Though, with the support of others, it was hard to think of it as a burden. The gravity of a secret this big had weighed you down for years, but… now, your chest had never felt so light.

They supported you when you arrived, but the extremes this Spanish team took didn’t quite register until the week before the first game of the Liga F season. Fortunately for you, the first game of the season was at your new home of football, the Estadi Johan Cruyff. So, to help settle the rising nerves you were feeling as game day got closer, the club had organised a training session for you at the stadium a few days before. The more familiar you were with your surroundings, the less you had to worry about on the day. And, as everybody knew, the only thing you needed to worry about for your debut would be how well you did on the pitch.

What you didn’t know though, was that every member of your team was waiting in the stands for you to walk out. And the second the sound of boots hitting the floor echoed from the tunnel through the empty stadium, Mapi was up on her feet to cheer and encouraged her teammates to do the same. The only person that hesitated was Ingrid, but when she saw the look on your face as your te- your friends outwardly rallied behind you so openly and so freely, she became the loudest one of them all. That was the perfect way to prepare for game day, you really couldn’t have asked for a better group of people to work with everyday.

Were you jittery and wracked with nerves as you waited on the sidelines to be substituted in at the 70 minute mark? Yes, but the second you took your first step on the grass with the crowd’s applause as your welcome, you fixated on the game and everything else was just background noise. 

From a young age, before you had even heard of the word autism, football had very obviously been your special interest, otherwise known as the one random topic out of everything in the world to take over your life. 

You would spend hours in your backyard, kicking a ball against the side of your house, driving your family crazy. The walls of your bedroom were covered, corner to corner, in posters ranging from your favourite players, to clubs from all over the world. Christmases and birthdays as a kid were, to you, all about what from your presents you could add to your collection. Kits, boots, scarves, match-day programmes, magazines, even trading cards. Back at your childhood home in Norway, all these things were stored away in the attic, still items you cherished. 

As you got older and life got a bit more difficult, football became your escape. School was exhausting, people were exhausting, but football was something you could do on your own. No one bothering you, no one expecting anything from you, it was a time you could forget the world and all its misdemeanours, and just relax. And honestly, that’s all you planned for it to be. It was hard to imagine it being anything else than just a hobby.

All it took was one game to change the whole trajectory of your life. A game of girls against boys at your school at the age of only eleven, and the next day your sports teacher had gotten you a trial at the local academy. You passed it with flying colours, and flourished in the sport from there.

…Until one random day when you were fourteen, your mother sat you down for a conversation you never could have expected. But once you'd had time to dwell on her words, everything made sense. 

You had autism spectrum disorder. 

It wasn’t made official until the assessment process was over and you received your diagnosis, but that was the day it felt like your life had been irreversibly changed. Your view of the world changed with one conversation, and it was as if everything you thought you knew was wiped completely. Like you had been thrown into the ocean with no one and nothing around to help. 

All the tantrums, the bad behaviour at home compared to being a model student at school, the fussy eating habits, and the endless list of out-of-the-norm habits you had - it added up to this one, new label. The tantrums became meltdowns, the reasoning behind your behavioural differences were from spending the whole day surrounded by people and masking to fit in which led to you being so overwhelmed and overstimulated, your mind went into overdrive and didn’t know what to do. The fussy eating turned out to be sensory issues, with the textures and tastes of certain foods making you physically ill.

There was so much to learn that some days it felt like too big a challenge to tackle. Then there would be the days where you were up all night, the light of your family laptop kept hidden under the blanket you draped over yourself, as you researched this life-changing disorder until the sun rose.

It’s funny, really, how quickly your life can change with just three words.

For years, you had been defeated by it, succumbing to the assumptions that you could never amount to anything more than the label forced upon you, but look at you now. Providing a world class through ball to the most recent Ballon D’Or recipient to tie off a 3-0 win in the first game of the season.

You had learnt at some point in the last twelve years that the only choice you had was to live with it. Make the most of it. This was your one life, you had to make it work. You were adamant to thrive for the others that couldn’t, for the 1 in 13 women that didn’t believe they were strong enough to fight back, and to prove to the world that this disorder didn't hold you back.

They wouldn’t know that your mind could be your own worst enemy, or the self-deprecating thoughts you could have whilst your face gave away no hints, or that sometimes you didn’t believe in yourself and the anxiety was so intense that you could be stuck in bed for days, even weeks, at a time. All they saw right now was your team, FC Barcelona, rushing over to celebrate you rather than the goal scorer because they knew what it meant to you. The world would only ever see your victories, because they had no business to strike you when you were already down. You were strong, you were worth it, and most importantly, you had done it. You’d made it to the exact point you dreamed of. That’s all that mattered.

Unfortunately, it only takes one bad thing to set you down an unwanted path.

Part 2

[pucksandpower]

Danger Noodles

Charles Leclerc x Reader x Max Verstappen

Summary: When asked to describe Formula 1 drivers in a single word, many people would choose “brave” … but those people clearly haven’t seen your boyfriends near a snake

You sink back into the plush couch, wedged happily between your boyfriends. Max’s arm is draped casually over your shoulders while Charles holds your hand, gently stroking his thumb over your knuckles as they both gaze at you adoringly.

“We have something we want to ask you,” Max says, giving your shoulders a little squeeze.

Your heart flutters, wondering what they’re going to propose. The three of you have been nearly inseparable for the past six months, falling more and more deeply in love with each passing day.

“What is it?”

Charles grins, bringing your hand to his lips for a tender kiss. “Well … we were hoping you would move in with us.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. Of course you’ve dreamed about living with them — waking up tangled in bed together each morning, cooking side by side, cuddling on the couch every night. But there’s one major issue that gives you pause.

“Wow, I don’t know what to say,” you stammer.

“Say yes!” Max nuzzles your cheek. “It will be amazing, the three of us together.”

You bite your lip anxiously. “Well, there’s actually something you should know first ...”

But Charles cuts you off, cupping your face in his hands. “We know this is fast but it just feels right, doesn’t it? I can’t imagine not having you with us when we fall asleep and when we wake up every day. We love you so much.”

He kisses you softly and your reservations start to melt away. How could you even think of say no when they’re looking at you like that, so full of hope and devotion?

Max tilts your chin towards him for a deep, lingering kiss. “Please move in with us, liefje. It will be like a dream come true.”

You open your mouth but Charles swoops in for another kiss, stealing your breath. “Imagine lazy mornings in bed, making those blueberry pancakes you love together, playing with our ...”

He trails off, his nose crinkling adorably as he thinks. You take a deep breath. This is your chance.

“Playing with my pets,” you finish for him. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I have pets.”

Max and Charles exchange surprised looks.

“Pets? What kind of pets?” Max asks.

You hesitate, trying to figure out how to break this gently. But the words stick in your throat.

Charles grins and pulls you against his chest. “As long as they’re not snakes or spiders, I think we can handle whatever furry creatures you have.”

Max chuckles. “Yeah, anything but those two. You know how terrified we are of them.” He shudders dramatically.

You open your mouth but Max barrels on enthusiastically.

“I bet you have the cutest little dog or cat. Maybe even both! Don’t worry, we’ll love them because they’re part of you. Plus Jimmy and Sassy could use some more siblings.”

Charles nods eagerly. “Absolutely! Your pets will be our pets. We can’t wait to meet them and spoil them.”

You try again weakly. “But you don’t underst—”

Max presses a finger to your lips. “No more hesitation. We want you to move in with us and we want to meet your pets. I have a good feeling they’ll fit right into the family.”

Charles tickles your sides playfully, making you squeal. “So what do you say? Are you ready to take this next step with us?”

They both gaze at you with such hope and excitement, you can’t bear to ruin it just yet. Moving in together is a big step, one you’ve dreamed of taking. And they seem so thrilled about your pets, misunderstanding though it is.

Maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe they’ll come around once they actually meet your snakes and see how sweet and harmless they are. You can ease them into it slowly.

“Yes,” you finally say, breaking into a wide smile. “I would love to move in with you both.”

Max and Charles let out whoops of joy, tackling you backwards onto the couch in a tangle of limbs and ecstatic kisses. You dissolve into giggles, caught up in their infectious enthusiasm.

For now, you decide to just enjoy this moment. The conversation about snakes can wait a little longer. You snuggle into your boyfriends’ arms, thrilled to be taking this step even if you have a nagging worry about their reaction to your pets.

But their smiles chase away those doubts for the time being. Curled between these two men who you love with your whole heart, you feel like the luckiest person alive.

***

You take a deep breath as you look around your new shared bedroom. The movers have brought in all of your boxes. Your clothes are hanging neatly in the walk-in closet next to Max’s Red Bull branded shirts and Charles’ eclectic collection of pants. Your knickknacks are scattered around, blending seamlessly with their belongings.

This really is your home now. The thought makes your heart swell even as your stomach twists anxiously. There’s only one thing left to move in — your beloved pet snakes.

You decided put this off until the very end, dreading your boyfriends’ reaction. But now you can’t delay any longer.

Taking another deep breath, you head down the hall to where Max and Charles are unpacking your novelty mugs in the kitchen.

Max looks up with a grin as you enter. “Is everything all moved in?”

You force a smile. “Just about. There’s, um, just three things left.”

Charles wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close. “Well let’s go get them! I’m so excited to finally meet these pets of yours.”

Your throat goes dry. You should have told them sooner. But there’s no backing out now.

“Yeah, about that ...” you start nervously.

But Max is already eagerly dragging you towards the front door. “Come on, what are we waiting for? Bring in the fur babies!”

Your steps drag reluctantly as you lead them down to the garage where your car is parked. You open the backseat door, reaching for the first snake habitat.

Max and Charles peer eagerly into the car. As you turn, reptile habitat in hand, their faces morph from excitement to confusion to outright horror.

Charles stumbles back with a yelp. “Is that a snake?”

You bite your lip, cradling the habitat protectively against your chest. Your corn snake stares back at them curiously.

“Yes, this is Caramel. She’s my pet corn snake. And I have two other snakes — Cookie and Basil.” You gesture at the other two setups still in the car.

Max’s face has gone pale, his eyes wide as saucers as he stares at Caramel. Charles looks similarly shaken.

“Snakes?” Charles squeaks in disbelief. “Your pets are snakes?”

You nod, feeling awful for not warning them sooner. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I just didn’t know how to bring it up ... but they’re very sweet, I promise! They would never hurt anyone.”

But Max has already stumbled several more steps away, looking like he might pass out. “You want us to live with snakes? Actual slithering, scaly snakes?”

Charles shakes his head rapidly, hands up in front of himself defensively. “Oh no no no. This can’t be happening. Snakes are my worst fear!”

You cuddle Caramel gently, who flicks her tongue out placidly. “I know it’s a shock but once you get to meet them, you’ll see they’re harmless. Please, give them a chance for me?”

But Charles and Max only continue to edge away, staring at Caramel like she might lunge at them.

“I can’t do this. I can’t live with snakes,” Max chokes out before bolting back to the elevator.

Charles gives you a desperate, apologetic look. “I’m so sorry. We ... we need some time to process this.” He turns and races after Max, pressing the button to close the elevator doors repeatedly.

You stand there, shoulders slumping as you hold Caramel’s habitat close. Your eyes well up with tears. You’ve just moved in with the men you love more than anything and they can’t even stand to be near the pets that you consider your children.

Sniffling, you gently set Caramel’s habitat back in the car next to Cookie and Basil.

“It’s going to be ok,” you whisper to them, wiping your eyes. “We’ll figure this out. I’ll give them some time and hopefully they’ll come around.”

But a sob escapes as you think about the apartment that was supposed to be your new loving home but now instead only feels cold and unwelcoming.

Taking a shuddering breath, you smooth down your hair and lift your chin. You just need to be patient. And maybe do some exposure therapy to help Max and Charles overcome their fear.

You have to believe everything will work out in the end. Because the alternative — either losing the men you love or having to give up your precious snakes — is unthinkable.

***

You sit on a park bench in the middle of Monaco, the sun warming your face. But even the beautiful weather can’t lift your mood. Your heart aches thinking about the disastrous attempt to move in with Max and Charles earlier.

The looks of horror on their faces when they saw your pet snakes are seared into your mind. You really believed they would accept all parts of you when they asked you to move in. Now you just feel silly for ever thinking this could work.

A tear rolls down your cheek as you gaze down at the snake habitats next to you where your precious babies Caramel, Cookie, and Basil are curled up.

“I’m so sorry, my loves,” you whisper to them. “This is all my fault.”

The snakes flick their tongues out softly as if to comfort you. You manage a small, sad smile. At least you still have your scaly companions, even if your dream of living with your boyfriends has been shattered as painfully as possible.

You’re so lost in melancholy thoughts that you don’t notice two familiar figures approaching until they’re right in front of you.

“There you are,” Max says, slightly out of breath. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

You look up with reddened eyes to see Max and Charles gazing down at you remorsefully. Charles holds a small cooler in his hands.

“What do you want?” You ask warily, shifting to try to shield your snakes from view.

Max winces at your defensive tone. “We want to apologize. We’re so sorry for overreacting earlier. It was just ... a huge shock.”

Charles nods earnestly. “We feel awful for upsetting you and the snakes. We want to make things right.”

He sets the cooler down and opens it, pulling out three frozen mice. Your snakes perk up at the sight of their favorite snack.

“We brought peace offerings,” Charles says with an anxious but hopeful smile. “We want to get to know Caramel, Cookie, and Basil. Will you please give us another chance?”

You bite your lip, torn between cautious optimism and lingering hurt.

Max kneels down beside you, taking your hand in his. “We were idiots. We should have handled it better. But the thought of losing you is unbearable. We don’t want to live without you.”

Charles sits on your other side, squeezing your shoulder. “We’ll learn to love your snakes because they’re yours. Please come home and give us a chance to make things right.”

His pleading green eyes and Max’s gentle blue ones melt your resolve.

Finally you nod, a tiny smile breaking through. “Okay. I’m willing to try again if you are.”

Their faces light up with relief. Charles eagerly grabs Cookie’s habitat as Max reaches for Caramel.

“Let the snake exposure therapy begin!” Max declares. They settle the habitats carefully on their laps.

You let out a soft laugh as they lean in curiously. Caramel and Cookie slowly slither closer, flicking their tongues as they examine Max and Charles.

Charles yelps as Cookie boops her nose against the glass right in front of his face. Max laughs, though he looks nervous having Caramel so close.

You scoot over next to Max, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Go ahead, you can touch her. Gentle strokes along her back.”

Max gulps but tentatively reaches out, lightly petting Caramel’s head. His eyes widen in surprise. “Wow, she’s so smooth and soft!”

Charles gains courage from Max’s bravery and mimics him, stroking Cookie’s back. A small grin starts to spread across his face. “This is actually kind of nice!”

You beam proudly. “See, I told you they’re sweethearts.”

The boys relax as they grow more comfortable petting the snakes. All the tension from earlier fades away.

“We really are so sorry,” Max says, lifting your hand to his lips for a kiss. “No more overreacting. From now on, we promise to embrace all of you — even the scaly parts.”

Charles leans in, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Please come home. It’s not home without you.”

Your throat tightens with emotion. You throw your arms around them in a big hug, snakes and all.

“Let’s go home,” you whisper.

***

Max clutches the steering wheel, brow furrowed in concentration as he races on his simulator. The wheels start to skid and he fights to keep control of the virtual car.

“Nice save,” his teammate Gianni says over the headset.

Max grins, glancing at the livestream camera filming him. “Just warming up the tires, mate.”

As he comes out of the chicane, he feels something brush his ankle. Probably one of the cats pestering him while he’s trying to drive.

“Not now, Sassy,” he murmurs, downshifting to take on the next corner.

But then Max feels smooth scales glide across his foot.

He yelps, hitting the brakes reflexively. The car spins out, the livestream immortalizing every second of his shocked expression.

“You okay?” Gianni asks, oblivious to the cause of Max’s surprise.

Max looks down to see Caramel curling happily around his simulator pedals. She must have escaped her habitat … again.

“Uh yeah, I just had a little visit from one of Y/N’s snakes,” Max says with a breathless laugh. “Nearly gave me a heart attack but I’m alright.”

He hears Gianni cracking up through the headset. “Oh man, I forgot you guys took in those snakes too! They just slither around while you’re racing huh? That’s wild.”

Max carefully picks up Caramel, her smooth scales sliding over his hands. She flicks her tongue out innocently.

“Clever girl, sneaking in here while I was focused on driving,” Max coos, unable to be mad at her. He makes sure the livestream audience gets a good view. “Say hi to the fans, Cara!”

The live chat fills with snake emojis and laughs. Gianni fake-shudders through the headset. “You’re a braver man than me, letting those things just wander around. No thanks!”

Max grins, gently stroking Caramel’s head. “They’re not so bad once you get to know them. Just gotta respect their space. Right, sweetie?”

Caramel bobs her head as if in agreement. The live chat melts over how cute she is.

“If you say so,” Gianni says. “Now put the danger noodle away and let’s get back to racing!”

“She’s not a danger noodle, she’s a sweetheart,” Max protests with a laugh. But he dutifully returns Caramel to her habitat before hopping back in the simulator.

Later that day, you come home from work to find Max laughing at the snippets of his stream that fans have shared online.

“I had a special guest appearance from one of our scaly housemates today,” he says, pulling you down onto his lap to show you the clip of Caramel surprising him mid-race.

You laugh, “She just hates being cooped up.”

“Clearly,” Max says wryly. But his eyes are soft as he gazes at you. “You were right though — they are growing on me. Never thought I would say that about snakes but here we are.”

He kisses you sweetly. You cup his cheek, brushing your thumb over his stubble as you feel your heart swell to triple its size.

“I’m really proud of you. And Caramel definitely got your stream some extra views today!” You tease.

Max groans. “I’ve gone soft! But I guess for you and our unconventional little family, I can make an exception.”

You snuggle into his chest, perfectly content. Having supportive partners who cherish both you and your scaly babies makes all the difference. And you have to admit, seeing your tough boyfriend coo over Caramel was pretty darn cute.

***

Race day morning in Monaco is always a whirlwind. You kiss Charles and Max goodbye as they rush out the door to head to the circuit, matching Louis Vuitton backpacks slung over their shoulders. Little do any of you know, a small scaly stowaway has curled up inside of one.

In the Ferrari motorhome, Charles is changing into his race suit when he hears startled shouts from some mechanics. He turns to see Cookie, peeking her head out of his backpack, flicking her tongue as she takes in the unfamiliar location.

“Cookie! What are you doing here?” Charles asks with a laugh. The mechanics back away nervously.

Charles gently picks her up. “It’s okay, she is perfectly harmless. This is one of my girlfriend’s pet snakes.”

Cookie wraps around Charles’ hand, seeking warmth. He smiles and strokes her scales.

“Well, I guess you’re the team mascot now,” he tells her. “Let’s find you a nice Ferrari bandana to wear.”

He ties the red fabric around Cookie, who seems quite pleased with her new accessory. Charles carefully sets her around his shoulders and heads out to the paddock.

As expected, the other drivers have mixed reactions to the surprise reptile visitor. Lewis grins and comes over to pet Cookie, happy to see a fellow animal lover. Meanwhile Lando takes one look and speed-walks in the opposite direction.

“If Roscoe can attend races then so can snakes,” Charles argues when there are murmurs about animals not being allowed in the pit lane. He scratches under Cookie’s chin proudly. “Right, ma belle?”

When Max arrives for the drivers parade, he bursts out laughing at the sight of Cookie draped around Charles’ neck.

“Y/N will get a kick out of this,” he says, giving the snake a little chin rub. “But I can’t let you outdo me!”

He quickly ties a Red Bull bracelet around Cookie, perfectly sized to be a snake necklace. “There, now she can root for both of us!”

You’re watching the broadcast in hospitality when the camera pans to show Charles, Cookie curled contentedly around his shoulders.

Your jaw drops.

“Oh my god!” You exclaim with a laugh. But your heart melts seeing Charles parade her around like a princely scarf. And her new accessories are just too cute.

In the end, Cookie seems to bring Charles good luck. He takes the chequered flag and snags his first home victory, the curious snake cheering him on the whole time from where she’s cozily curled up in your lap.

On the podium, Charles grins up at the cameras with Cookie snaking her way to wrap around his cap. “We make a great team!” He proclaims, holding up the little snake like she’s Simba in the Lion King.

The crowd laughs and applauds. You watch with delight, shaking your head at this ridiculous man and his new snaky sidekick.

Later, back home after a long night of jumping from club to club, you lavish both Charles and Cookie with praise and kisses.

“I can’t believe our girl got to be part of your special l day!” You cuddle her close. “She must have loved all the excitement.”

Charles grins and slides his arms around your waist. “It was meant to be. She’s my new Monaco Grand Prix lucky charm!”

Cookie bobs her head happily. She’s clearly enjoyed her big day out.

You laugh as Charles spins you around the living room in an impromptu victory dance while Max records the two of you with a proud smile. Having supportive partners who not only accept but celebrate all aspects of you — even the reptilian ones — is a dream come true.

This really is the perfect unconventional family.

***

Sunlight streams through the curtains, rousing you from sleep. You stretch languidly, sandwiched between Max and Charles’ warm bodies. What a perfect way to wake up.

Charles nuzzles into your neck, planting soft kisses along the stretch of skin. “Good morning, mon amour.”

You hum happily, tilting your head to capture his lips in a kiss. His hand trails down your side, fingers dancing over your hip.

On your other side, Max presses up against you, his muscular frame molded to yours. His nose grazes your jaw as his lips find your shoulder.

You sigh blissfully at the sensation of being cradled between them. Their hands wander reverently across your body as they pepper you with kisses.

Then you feel something long and firm nudge against your thigh under the sheets. You smirk, assuming one of them is getting frisky.

“Is that a banana or are you just happy to see me?” You tease.

Max and Charles exchange confused looks over you.

You frown and reach down to grab whatever is poking you ... and feel familiar dry scales. Your eyes go wide.

Throwing back the sheets reveals Basil curled up happily on your leg.

“Basil!” You exclaim as Max and Charles shriek in surprise.

Basil just flicks his tongue out, pleased as can be to have found such a cozy sleeping spot.

You fall back against the pillows laughing while Max and Charles look on with wide eyes.

“So much for a romantic morning in bed,” Max grumbles. But his smile tells you that he’s not truly mad.

Charles runs a hand through his rumpled hair, grinning ruefully. “We really need to snake-proof the apartment.”

You scoop up Basil, giving him a gentle scolding. “What are we going to do with you, silly boy? You just love snuggling, don’t you?”

Basil bobs his head unrepentantly. Max shakes his head and comes over to scratch under his chin.

“Oh you little snake. Gave us quite the surprise!”

Charles joins you both, reaching out tentatively to pet Basil. “I have to admit, the look on your face was pretty priceless, mon ange.”

You swat his shoulder but let him pull you into his lap. Basil winds happily around your wrists as you kiss.

Max presses up behind you, hands wandering your body as he nuzzles into your hair.

“Now, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?” He murmurs.

You laugh as they topple you backwards onto the pillows, peppering you with kisses. Basil slithers away happily and you lose yourself in your lovers’ embrace.

Later, basking in the afterglow, you glance over to see Cookie and Caramel have joined Basil in exploring the room. You really do need to snake-proof better.

But as Max pulls you against his chest and Charles winds his arms around your waist from behind, you can’t find it in you to care right now.

“Our lives may be crazy with these snakes,” Max presses his lips to your temple, “But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Charles hums in agreement, dotting kisses on your shoulder. You cover their hands with your own, heart overflowing with love.

Is your little family unconventional? Yes. Chaotic? Absolutely. But also wonderfully, perfectly yours.

[mythicmanuscripts]

So, what are your thoughts about Aemond and reader’s first time, considering all his past experiences with the brothel and all (I don’t know if that too vague, if it is, I’ll try to be more specific next time haha)

I love this question! Also, I don't think this is too vague but thank you for checking!! For future reference and also for everyone else, if you had just asked for something like "write Aemond and reader sleeping together" or "write Aemond x reader smut" then I'd say there's not enough to go on. Hope that makes sense!!

Anyway, NSFW sub!aemond below the cut :))

This ask is in reference to the brothel scene where Aemond admits that Aegon essentially forced him to sleep with a sex worker when he had just turned 13.

I'm sure I've babbled on about what I'm about to say before but oh well here we go again: I think that a big part of Aemond's discomfort with the sex worker wasnt just because he was being forced to lose his virginity but because of how utterly exposed he felt? We all know how closed off and composed Aemond always tries to be, and we know he has plenty of insecurities both from his missing eye and from being the second son. The concept of sex as a whole had always felt uncomfortable and far too vulnerable. To lay completely naked with another? Aemond couldnt imagine a scenario where that wouldnt feel terrifying.

And then he turns 13 and Aegon shoves him into a brothel and all his worst fears are confirmed. The sex worker's eyes shamelessly travel across his body and he has to fight the urge to wrap a blanket around himself. The lights are too harsh, he can hear other people having sex outside the room. r

When he leaves there he's convinced he'll never lay with another again. He even decides that he'd let his future wife fuck the first blond hair man they can find and call the resulting child his heir because he couldnt bring himself to be the exposed again.

But then Alicent introduces him to you and you throw a rather large wrench in his plans because you don't do any of those things that left him feeling exposed?

Even before the wedding, you're always checking his boundaries and ensuring you abide by them. If he seems uncomfortable you step away and you ask. And beyond that, you form a real, genuine bond with him that he's never had with anyone before never mind with a romantic partner.

The truth is that Aemond just really loves being around you? He doesn't even notice his walls beginning to crumble because he just feels so safe with you. For the first time he's not constantly having to prove himself.

You're shocked by how different he is to how everyone else had warned you he'd be. You don't see an ounce of the danger and dominance so many others had warned you off, hell even his own mother warned you of. But those traits have always been due to a fight for survival, due to him having to come out on top or risk being ridiculed or worse.

So when you come along and you make it so that he doesn't have to fight for love and respect and recognition? Then all that violence and anger slips away because he doesn't need it here.

You start out VERY slow.

Aemond can best be described as almost skittish when it comes to sex and intimacy. He likes it, but the moment something moves just slightly too quickly he's jumping up and going to hide in his own private chambers.

The first time you kiss him after the wedding, he very nearly starts crying because you just kiss him so gently with absolutely no indication of wanting to go any further than that. Aemond realises he could happily spend hours like that, with the two of you laying together and trading soft kisses.

He tells you about the sex worker eventually, maybe Aegon actually makes a comment about it? Like a few weeks into the marriage Aegon decides to tease Aemond and ask him if he still goes back to his first or if he's actually fucking his wife. (Aegon promptly sprints out the room immediately after saying this because the look in your eyes when you turned to look at him was absolutely terrifying)

So he opens up about the sex worker with you, and he full on sobs when you say he deserved better and that he deserved to feel safe, that sex should always feel safe.

From then, you put a lot of time and effort into ensuring that your chambers together becomes that warm, safe place aemond was missing. You only approve 3 servants who are allowed into your chambers with Aemond, and only 2 are allowed in at a time. No servants can come into the chambers unprompted either. If you want the sheets cleaned or the laundry taken to be washed, then you will call one of the 3 approved servants but servants are not allowed to do those things on their own, only when you request it.

Once that's been sorted you start getting the rooms themselves into a better state. You keep candles all over the walls, get the softest blankets and pillows you can. Maybe you also get some of his favourite books to put up? It's a slow, gradual change but Aemond notices every single change and every time his breath it taken away at how perfect you are. He never even had to explain how vulnerable he was the first time, you just knew and you knew how to make him feel comfortable.

The actual sex takes longer of course, and there's plenty of oral and makeup sessions before he's ready for more, but when you do get to the main event he can't believe how good he feels?

The way you praise him and check in on him brings tears to his eyes, and when you gently wrap a blanket around his shoulders while you stroke him he really does cry. Just that simple gesture of putting the blanket over him makes him feel so much less exposed.

Sex is always a calm, quiet affair with Aemond. Make no mistake, you certainly get edge him and overstimulate him and all that fun stuff, but that's never with standard sex. If you're doing those other things then you're either pegging him or using your hands/mouth. The actual act of sex, that is always gentle. It's the gentleness that really breaks him.

(One quick sidenote to end off: cockwarming, how the flying fuck have we never discussed it? I'm now now picturing a scene where it's the first time you go the whole nine yards, but then from the moment Aemond slowly enters you, he just stays still? At first you think he's trying to get used to the feeling but when even more time has passed and he still hasn't moved, you ask him that's going on and that's when he kinda just collapses into your, his cock still inside and mumbles about how nice this feels. So needless to say, actual sex was not achieved that day)

[onlinedolly]

cw: drug use, misogynistic undertones (brief mention of gender roles), degradation, p in v, p in mouth, dubcon (if u squint maybe?), mentions of piss, mean awful leon, i think that’s it? lmk if i miss any ok thank u

an: for my angel 🕊️ annonie who rq more corrupt cop leon!!!! i don’t put tws in tags so please read the list above carefully. if any of those things are too much for you please feel free to bypass this okay thanks so much. also i did not proof read this cuz im terrible sorry ):

corrupt cop!leon is a mean man. a star in the raccoon city PD, an officer who’d spent years building up nothing but a positive reputation, but behind closed doors he was anything but kind. you were his pretty little girlfriend, over a decade his junior and a former rookie at the same place he worked.

corrupt cop!leon who drank the minute he got home until he went to bed, expecting dinner and clean home when he arrived. so pleased to see his pretty little doll and dressed up for him over a hot stove. he got too drunk, like usual, and that’s when he’d become violent and crude.

“why don’t you come over here, little one?”

corrupt cop!leon would say, patting his legs with an almost empty whiskey glass to his side. and like the pretty, sweet thing you are, there you’d go prancing over to place yourself on his lap. smothering him with kisses, asking about his day, complimenting him on what a good cop he was (not that he needed the ego boost). and he’d sigh, tap your pretty cheek to get you to open your mouth big and wide before slipping whatever pills he’d stolen from the evidence locker a few hours prior. it really wasn’t as bad as it seemed, leon would think to himself, he was just helping, right. the pills made you happy, pliable, sweet and made that little brain of yours dumb.

and oh boy, did corrupt cop!leon love when you were hazy and high and oh so fucking stupid.

“ain’t got a thought up there, do ya?”

corrupt cop!leon who’d roughly knock on your head as if someone would answer. and you just smile all bright at him, like you do so often, and tell him the only thing up there is thoughts of him. you were perfect, a small, sweet thing who let him do whatever he wanted to you. and he ate it up.

corrupt cop!leon who was drunker now, meaner, and after supper is when he’d start to push you around. climbing onto his lap to only be shoved into the cold hardwood as he mumbled how ‘fucking hot he was’. pressing down on your tummy with a full bladder until you pissed yourself, getting so angry at you for using the restroom on the living room floor. and still, you looked at him with hearts and stars in your eyes.

corrupt cop!leon who had you so trained all he had to do was pull his cock out and there you were, on your knees in a second.

“dirty thing, this is all your good for, hm? taking cock and fuckin annoyin me’”

corrupt cop!leon would slur out drunkenly, as you kitten lick the top of his cock. leon would let you tease him for only a few moments before he’d grab the back of your head, hand in your hair, pushing you roughly down the length of his cock. you sputter and cough in a feeble failed attempt to tell him to pull back, but it’s to avail (it’s usually not).

“bet you like that, don’t cha? choking around an older guys cock, whore.”

corrupt cop!leon’s cock which is so big you’re terrified it’ll break your jaw, and especially at the rough and fast pace he’s fucking himself. you can’t breathe and tears spring to the corners of your eyes as you desperately try to gasp for air. but leon’s never been one to give up, no. your tongue is swirling around his cock and your hands are cupped around his balls like you’ve been trained to do, despite the lack of air.

“ain’t you something? fucking perfect.”

corrupt cop!leon would growl out between moans. and right before he cums does he let you breathe, pulling you roughly off of him by your hair. you gasp for air, big gulps that can’t seem to come soon enough as you wipe the tears and snot away from your face. before leon even has to instruct you you’re sinking down on his cock, no panties under that pretty little dress he picked out for you this morning.

corrupt cop!leon who thinks you’re going just too fucking slow. so he takes matters into his own hands, grabbing your hips roughly and slamming you down on his cock and you cry out. leon loved to hear your pained little whimpers, especially when they were still paired with that oh so loving, hazy look you give him.

“next time speed up and i won’t have to hurt ya, so bad y’know? stupid little baby, need me to do fucking everything.”

“s-sorry, sir,” you sputter out, “need you to everything your rig-“ a scream rips through your body as he lifts you up and slams you back down on his cock, you lean forward gripping the back of the couch for some kind of support as he begins a brutal pace, pistoning himself inside your tight cunt.

“fuckers at the force think i’m so good, don’t they baby? it’s cuz im the best, ain’t i? go on say it, your old mans the best cop there ever was, hm?”

you want to speak, relay compliments on him like you’ve done a thousand times before. but you’re just so full and so so overwhelmed. you’re sobbing from the needy feeling as leon fucks into you, enough to give you a tinge of pleasure but never enough to hit that soft spongy spot inside of you.

and leon wasn’t an idiot, he was actually very smart thank-you-very-fucking-much, he knew exactly what he was doing. knew your body enough to fuck you until you’re begging for him to hit right where you need him too.

corrupt cop!leon is a mean fucking man, who loves fucking you like one.

“can’t answer me? what? am i a terrible cop? a bad guy? is that what you think of me?” he eggs on, venom laced in his words.

“n-no!” you cry, his grip on your hips so tight it makes you gasp, “leon’s a good man, good cop, good — ah — everything.”

leon’s fucking you brutally at this point, the exact words he needs to hear from his baby has him reeling, and finally he slams you down against his thighs, his cock hitting you so deep it’s borderline pain as he finally grazes that spongy little spot with his tip. it sends you over the moon, leaning back to rest your hands on his thighs as your hips involuntarily roll against him, hitting your g spot over and over again until your eyes are rolling in the back of your head.

“god what a slut you are, fucking yourself on my cock, now who told your pretty self you could do that?”

it’s like whiplash the way he picks your smaller frame up, spinning you both around and slamming you into the couch. your legs are spread in the air and he’s fucking you so roughly the couch rocks against the wall.

and corrupt cop!leon is a mean man, but he’s not cruel, so he takes one of his hands and rubs fast circles on your clit until your spasming around him, your orgasm crashing over you like a large tidal wave.

and he’s close too, he can feel it, so he picks up the pace, fucking you hard and ruthlessly as he mumbles pet names into your ear.

“god baby” “fuck, angel.” “cunt made just for me, hm, cupcake?”

finally he cums with a growl that’s almost animalistic, gripping your hip harshly as he unloads his seed inside of you. he’s sweating and panting and you’re looking at him with stars in your glossed over eyes, he takes a few moments to soften inside of you before pulling out.

“you should really clean yourself up, huh? look downright filthy with cum leakin’ out of you like that.”

he says before sauntering away, sure to grab his whiskey glass he’d left of the table.

corrupt cop!leon was a mean man and he was everything to you.

[scarletwinterxx]

in the quiet of us - choi seungcheol imagine

tbh this fic came about while listening to milk teeth and did you like her in the morning by niki 🥺 dare i say i'm getting better with the angst haha ofc it's gonna end in a cute way

anywayss i hope you like this one🤍

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You and Seungcheol have been dating for nearly a year, and on the surface, the two of you seem to be an ideal couple—you’re the shy, introspective type, while he’s outgoing, expressive, and always the center of attention. 

Your love for Seungcheol is quiet. It’s gentle, steady, and sometimes, you feel like it’s almost too quiet to be enough for someone like him. You have always loved him in a subtle, understated way, hoping that your affection is enough without needing to shout about it. Seungcheol, on the other hand, is the type who wears his heart on his sleeve. He’s affectionate, always complimenting you and showing his love in grand, showy gestures. 

He never shies away from declaring his feelings to the world.

You will never tell him your reasons for holding back when the truth is you love him with every piece of yourself. You’re terrified that your calm, reserved nature won’t compare to the passion and intensity of his past relationships. You about his ex-girlfriend, the one he once spoke of like she was his soul mate. Cheol has always been open about his past, and while he never directly compares you to her, you can’t help but feel like there are times you’re falling short of the vibrant, adventurous, free-spirited image of the girl who’s still a part of his memories. 

You and Seungcheol are sitting together on the couch, having just returned from a weekend getaway. You’re quiet, lost in thought.

"That trip was amazing, huh? I love how we just got to be spontaneous and go wherever we felt like." Cheol says while looking through the photos of your quick weekend getaway with some of his friends, you watch the big smile on his face 

"Yeah... it was nice." softly you say, Cheol being the mind reader he is, immediately looks at you when he hears your voice

Leaning closer to you he asks, "You don’t sound convinced. What’s on your mind?"

“I’ve been thinking a lot about... us, actually."

Cheol felt his heart skip a beat, and not in a good way. There’s so many breakup scenes that start off with those same words

"Us? What about us?" he asks

"I know you’ve had past relationships. I know you loved… you loved her. And I... I don’t know, Seungcheol. I can’t help but feel like... maybe my way of loving you isn’t enough."

Your sudden confession makes him sit straight up, wondering where all of this is coming from, "What do you mean? Of course, it’s enough. You love me in your own way—"

"But it’s so quiet. I’m not like the others. I’m not as... exciting or loud or memorable. I don’t do the big, dramatic gestures like they did. I’m just... me." you cut him off

You see hurt flash across his eyes, wishing you never said anything. You should’ve just said nothing. To avoid his stare, you look down at your hands that were resting on your lap 

"You’re not being fair to yourself. You’re everything I want, just the way you are." he whispers, feeling more sad and disappointed that you think that way about yourself when you’re quite literally everything to him.

Softly, almost to yourself you say "I’m just scared that you’re going to wake up one day and realize that I’m nothing like the girls you’ve loved before. That you’ll want... someone more. Someone who loves you in a bigger, louder way."

He looks at you, a thousand things running through his mind.

"Look at me." he tells you but you don’t move from where you’re sitting

"I just... I don’t know if I can keep pretending that everything’s fine when I feel so... small in your love." 

Gently turning your chin to face him, he smiles at you

"You don’t have to pretend with me. Not ever."

"But what if I’m not what you need? What if you want someone who—"

Cutting you off gently, he speaks again "I don’t want anyone else. I want you. I love you, the way you love me, and it’s more than enough. You don’t need to be like anyone else, because there’s no one like you. You love me in a way that’s so quiet, so steady—it’s the kind of love I’ve always needed, even if I didn’t realize it until now."

You can’t stop the tears falling down on your cheeks, Cheol does that for you. He wipes them away one by one, with each one he says a vow in his mind to never let anything or anyone even himself make you cry in this lifetime. 

"But... I don’t know how to love any other way. I’m not like you. I can’t... do all the big things you do for me." you whimper

"You don’t need to. I don’t need grand gestures. I don’t need loud. I need you, exactly as you are." he shakes his head, holding your face between his hands

He waits for you to say anything else but you don’t. You just embrace him, letting yourself fall apart infront of the only man who knows how to fix it all. And he lets you be. He lets you cry in his arms until you fall asleep, he lets you let go of what you’re feeling. Whispering words of assurance and affirmation, letting you know you’re not alone. 

You’ll never feel alone as long as you have him. 

The next morning, after a long conversation, you and Seungcheol are sitting in the kitchen together. He already made breakfast for the two of you. 

You look at him, still feeling a bit unsure but more at ease.

“So... you’re okay with the way I love you? Even if it’s not loud?" you’re the first one to speak

Softly smiling, he takes your hand "Your love is exactly what I’ve always needed. You love me with a softness, a patience, and I’m so grateful for it. I love how you take the time to listen to me, to show you care in the quietest ways. You don’t have to change who you are for me. I want you."

This makes you smile, little by little your worries disappear. You know it’s going to take some time before you feel okay, it’s a war between you and mind and yet here’s Cheol ready to fight that battle with you.

"I’ve always loved you like that. I just didn’t think it would ever be enough." you whisper

He walks over to your side, leaning in and kissing your forehead) "It’s more than enough. You’re more than enough. Always have been." he tells you

Later that day, Seungcheol left to get some errands done. When he comes back, he surprises you with a small gesture—no grand gesture, just a simple note with a favorite flower from the garden.

"Seungcheol, this is... really sweet." you smile up at him

Leaning against the doorframe, looking at you with affection "I know it’s not a big, loud thing, but I hope it says what I’ve been trying to tell you: I love you exactly as you are. In your quiet, beautiful way."

"I love you, too. In my own way." chucking softly, you shoot him a smile. Walking towards where he was, you throw your arms around him. His arms immediately wraps around you, 

"And I’ll never want anything else."

[fairycoures]

a little very self indulgent, but intimacy struggles with simon riley.

18+ minors do not interact — very vague descriptions of thoughts and negative past experiences with the topic of sex. nothing extremely detailed.

this was written with very little sleep and i've never written for the fandom before so let's see how this goes. also not written with a specific gender in mind but may lean more towards feminine i have not proofread this.

something about the beginning of the relationship, everything is fresh, all those feelings are new and neither wants to shatter that porcelain figure of perfection that this has all felt like so far. kissing, the bits of physical intimacy shared here and there, but nothing past light makeout sessions that always seem to get interrupted by the buzzing of simon’s phone for one reason or another.

the thing is, you could go past that. the barrier that divides the delicate from the ravenous, feral underbelly waiting beneath heated touches when things start to get heavier. but ironically, it’s for the same reason that both you and simon are utterly terrified of even bringing that up.

in simon’s mind, he doesn’t want to damage you. you’re the bloody fucking sun, and what is he? scarred hands that can never truly wash away all the blood, all the things he’s done in his life. how could he be the one to taint one as pure as you?

not to mention, it’s already set in stone that you’re going to run off once the novelty fades. once the idea of having this big, strong shadow always lurking, always protecting. always terrified that you’re the next thing that he’s going to have to lose. every little thing like yourself always dreams of having someone like him until they actually get him. once the honeymoon phase fades and you inevitably realize how damaged he is.

and if he lets you in, if he brings down those walls and grants you a side of himself that he doesn’t even show around his bloody team—the ones who have been by his side through so, so much—and then you leave? he’s already been torn to pieces time and time again and survived. he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to live a life without you in it if he lets you see behind the mask.

it would ruin him.

and you.

you, who have had awful countless experiences with men where, every time you show that side of yourself, the side who isn’t all pretty and perfect and wants to be ruined and put back together with gentle hands. every time things get into sex, they never come back from that.

every conversation has to be turned into a scenario. what were once sweet, affectionate words turn to the sole focus being your body. those rose-colored glasses come right off and you realize that yet again you’ve given your time to someone who was just holding off on showing you that the only thing he cares about is what you can do for him in the bedroom. how good you can make him feel. it was never about you.

simon has been all you knew you needed and everything you couldn’t have fathomed. even with the leaves, the inability to contact him on missions except for rare moments where he can get a cell reception, even with the way the man so far has showed very little of his past to you, it’s never mattered. he has made you feel seen in a way that no one has ever come close to doing.

and if it all turns out to be a facade, you don’t know if your heart could take that type of hurt.

neither of you wants to cross that line for fear of being left, of being hurt, and it’s not like you don’t want each other because god you do. who wouldn’t want simon? the man has arms as thick as tree trunks and thighs to match, he’s built like a brick house and the voice on that man is enough to make your head turn to warm syrup, warmth pooling between your thighs. and who wouldn’t want you? you’re an angel sent down to earth, sent to either bless or curse simon because with the way you plague his every thought, he has to wonder which is which.

but it’s also so much more than that for both of you, it’s just that it’s so bloody hard to look past what has been into what could be.

[thewulf]

Good News || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: So i saw somewhere where a woman got into trouble for "destruction of government property" but it's just her giving her military husband hickies, and i think this would be so hilarious with Jake Seresin.

A/N: This one came so quickly to me. It's just pure fluff. All the Jake Seresin fluff! Short but sweet. Hope you all enjoy :)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 2.3k +

Your eyes flipped back to the calendar on the wall with a big red circle around today. You’d probably looked at that calendar a thousand times over the last six months as you waited. Waited agonizingly every single day praying you wouldn’t get a knock on your door or the dreaded phone call.

Jake had been deployed on a carrier off the coast of Israel in the Mediterranean Sea for the last six months. You knew it came with the territory when you started dating him all those years ago. It terrified you every single time he came to tell you he was off on a mission or going on orders overseas. You’d never show it, only your utmost support and confidence in the man. But you knew how dangerous it was. He told you about all the men and women he’s seen gone down and some never making it home in his short span as a pilot in the Navy. It didn’t just terrify you, it rocked you all the way down to your core. What if he didn’t make it home? He was a hell of a pilot, one of the best that was flying, but things didn’t always go your way. He knew that. You knew it. Everybody seemed to know it.

But today was the day. He was coming home. After the months of shitty less than communication and trying your best to stay distracted it was here. He was safe. He was alive. You’d talked to him just a few hours ago. Waiting.

Jake’s parents picked you up from your shared home just off base that’d been eerily quiet in his absence. They didn’t want you driving in your hyper-fixated state. They never wanted you driving when it came to these kinds of events. They knew how much it tore you up when he was gone on deployment. If you didn’t fly down to Texas they made sure to fly to you. Just to keep you company. You hadn’t a clue how you’d gotten so lucky to have them in your life. And hopefully in the future as family. You never pushed it though. You didn’t want him to panic and ran. And truth be told you’d be fine never marrying him so long as he was like this in your life. Your best friend and love wrapped up in one.

“Are you excited?” His mom asked seeing you nearly bouncing out of the backseat once the car rolled onto base.

“Oh Nancy,” you could only nod your head in confirmation, “I’m more than excited.” Your cheeks were starting to burn from the big cheesy grin you were wearing.

His dad, David, spoke up, “I know Jake is just as excited.” He smiled just feeling the excitement in the air. These days were truly the best. Six months was a long time to be away. The longest deployment he’d been on in years.

The three of you made small talk as David drove to the base. Once parked, you happily led the older couple over to where the sailors would stand before they waited to be dismissed. You watched as the hundred or so men and women aboard the ship departed to their designated formation. Your eyes scanned for your loved one. Your Jake.

Finally spotting him you waited anxiously as the rest of the crew lined up. You just had to wait it out another ten minutes or so. They had to officially be dismissed before they could break for the family reunions. These last few minutes always seemed to draw on for decades trying to be as patient as possible.

You kept your eyes on him as he kept his forward. You hadn’t a clue that he already spotted you moments before you did him. But he had to keep his attention forward. No matter how anxious he was to see his favorite girl again.

They second they were dismissed Jake made a beeline right for you. Your face lit up in surprise as he headed right at you. Your body responding by moving forward you jumped right into his arms once he got close enough. He was more than ready. He wrapped his arms right around you securing you tightly to his chest while your feet locked behind him.

“Jakey.” You grinned hugging him tightly, afraid he’d be gone from your arms again you cherished every second like this. It made you realize how much you really did love the man you were holding so tightly. How much you craved him, everything about him. You’d rather not have had him gone for six months though. That was far too long for your liking. As if you had any say.

“Honey.” He cooed gently rocking you side to side. One arm snaked around your waist, one arm gently cradling your head in his hands, “You’re so fucking pretty. How’d you get even more beautiful? God I missed your face.” Jake leaned down capturing your lips in his. As gentle as he normally was with you this was hungrier. He really had missed you. Giving your hip as squeeze you felt him smile into the kiss as you squirmed away from his grasp.

Once you stopped giggling you looked right into his eyes smiling dopily, “And I missed yours, handsome man.” You gave him a wicked smirk before doing the unthinkable. Jake had warned you time and time again how he couldn’t show visible marks on the skin, or the Navy could have his ass. And maybe even yours if they were angry enough. You’d known they were empty threats, but you’d never dreamed of potentially hurting his flying in anyway. So, you’d never leave any marks.

Sliding his collar to the side you decided to throw caution to the wind seeing everybody lost in their own world with their own families. Jake’s parents were even admiring all the reunions around them instead of having their eyes fixated on the two of you. They loved watching all the joy every time. Nancy always made sure that every sailor was feeling the love. That was just one of the reasons you’d fallen in love not only with Jake but his entire family. His mom was as sweet as they came. His dad just as caring but even more tough. It was no wonder Jake was the way he was. Albeit a little more of an asshole than either of them even combined.

“Ma’am. That is abhorrent.” A vaguely familiar voice made you focus on your surroundings once more, “This is Destruction of Government Property.” You heard a cough from behind Jake drawing you away from your boyfriends neck. The look you sent could’ve killed him if it were at all possible. Bradley fucking Bradshaw. Was he actually serious right now?

You felt Jake’s laughter in his chest before you heard it. Flicking your eyes up momentarily at him you kissed him on his cheek before flipping Bradley off, “I don’t care Bradley.” You continued flipping him off while Jake held you tightly to his chest.

“Sweetheart…” Jake tried to warn you. The government really did own his ass. But his Commanding Officer was cool. He wasn’t expected to be back on base for another few weeks… what did a few hickies hurt? You knew the drill, but it didn’t seem to matter as you clung to him like he was about to vanish at any second. He looked down at your doe eyed expression, “I missed you.” He finished realizing just how hard deployment really was on you. The two of you were going on year five together. He’d been a pilot for all of them. He’d flown his hardest missions during that time. Your support never wavered. But seeing you like this? Like you’d never see him again… it hurt him. It hurt knowing you were feeling like that.

“You’ll care when there are Naval Officers on your doorstep.” Bradley tried. He really did. But you really didn’t care. You missed him more than anything. You didn’t care that his parents were there watching. You just missed him. Missed his corny ass jokes and the soft touches he always threw your way. You missed the sweet smiles and laughter that came with being around him. 

“So be it. Worth it.” You giggled as Jake pinched your sides again bringing your attention back to the man you’d dreamed about every day.

“Eyes over here darling.” He made sure to flip Bradley off before holding you back in his arms once again. He wouldn’t let you drop your hold on him. He wanted you close. He didn’t care either. He’d craved you for those months. He’d forgotten just how bad deployment got. Bradley mumbled some incoherent words before disappearing off into the crowd.

Kissing his cheek once more you nodded, “Sorry Jakey.” Brushing your hands through his hair it felt like it really was just the two of you there. Like nobody else was around.

“No need to apologize.” He whispered in your ear sending immediate chills down your spine, “You didn’t answer my question though. How’d you seem to get even more beautiful while I was gone?”

You truly felt like a little schoolgirl was a nasty crush on a boy way out of your league. He was so sweet to you and only you. Not having a clue why. You loved watching him interact with everyone else. He was so different than the man who came home to you every night. But that was Jake. Tough as they come. Sweet as can be. The biggest fight the two of you had was when he came home and told you about the six month long deployment a year ago. You didn’t even fight you were just sad. Sad that he volunteered to go. Volunteered and didn’t tell you. The two of you worked through it though. You always did.

“Shush. You’ve just been trapped on a big boat for so long I’d be offended if you didn’t think I was pretty.” You wanted to kiss him so bad. You didn’t even remember the kiss you gave him once you spotted him walk off the ship. You blacked out, truly.

“Never ever.” He grinned, “I’ll never stop complementing my beautiful girl.”

You squeezed your arms around him pulling him so much closer. You’d melt into him if you could, “You’re too sweet to me Mr. Seresin.”

He shook his head, “Not enough, I’d say.” He took the lead this time leaning down to give you a soft, sweet kiss that was far too short for your liking.

“I love you.” You whispered to him feeling oh so happy. So beyond excited he was holding you in his arms once again. You tried to step away to give his parents a chance to say hello, but he only held you tighter. Shaking his head.

“Love you too, gorgeous girl.” He hummed placing a soft kiss on your forehead, “That was it, by the way.”

You scrunched your eyes together in confusion, “What?”

He nodded his head with that larger than life smile on his face, “You’re looking at Captain Jake Seresin. Command Ground Officer.” He emphasized ground with wide eyes.

“Jake! Congrats. You didn’t tell me! Does this mean you’re here? Permanently?” Looking at him expectedly. It hit you just how good it could really get once you knew he’d be sleeping by your side every night.

He nodded his head in excitement, “At least for this job. I’ll still be flying but more on the leadership side. Training. Preparing them.”

You didn’t think your heart could swell any larger in love. But there it went. Only Jake could do that. You knew it. He knew it, “You’re not kidding right? Like you’re being serious?”

“Yes sweetheart. So serious.” He kissed your nose this time. He missed you more than you could’ve imagined. It was an impossible six months. He didn’t want to do that anymore. He couldn’t be away from you anymore. Lucky for him he had options. They let him choose. He choose to ground himself from missions. It was time to grow up and move on. He’d accomplished everything he sought out to and more already in the air. Now he was on a mission to rise to the top. Admiral Jake Seresin had a ring to it. 

You wanted to squeal but knew you had eyes all over you. Anybody could’ve been watching, “That’s the best news I’ve heard in a while J.”

“Just you wait.” He grinned ear to ear leaning down once more, whispering into your ear, “Won’t even be the best news you’ve heard all day.” Leaning all the way down he kissed you with a little bit more but keeping it PG. His parents were standing there a little annoyed that he’d chosen to be with you for so long before he even acknowledged them. But they knew. They knew the raw power of love. How much it could sway and dissuade. How deeply Jake was in love with you and how much you were with him.

“Oh? Do tell.” You pulled away looking at him curiously.

“You’ll see.” He wiggled his eyebrows just to egg you on.

You narrowed your eyebrows in on the man you loved so dearly, “You know how much I hate surprises.”

He laughed gleefully, “Oh darling, I know.” He pulled you back into him momentarily, “Promise, it’ll be worth the wait.”

“Promise?” You knew he’d keep true to his word, but you wanted to hear him confirm it.

“I promise you darling. Just you wait.” Squeezing your hand, he finally walked over to his parents bringing you right along with him. Only dropping your hand as he went in for the hug with his mom.

Taglist: @stuffingbuttsandshit @genius2050

[revelboo]

sometimes i think this is how some of the bots think about humans

lowkey don't know how to feel about that myself, i actually put myself in some of the human's shoes and wow it's no easy task to deal with their situation and having to keep themselves calm

That’s probably how a lot of them unconsciously view humans because of the size difference.

A Lifeless Ordinary Pt 4

Scavengers x Reader

• By virtue of Swindle’s reputation as a crook, Misfire voted Crankcase to use the language file and everyone else agreed. Most likely the con wouldn’t intentionally off a customer he can scam again, but still. Now Crankcase leans over where the human is sitting on a crate, little legs dangling and heels thumping against the side, and he spouts gibberish at you. Your head comes up, eyes widening as you say something back and get to your feet. “Do you understand it?” Krok demands, right as your little shoulders slump, hands gesturing.

• When the one with the chunk out of his head starts talking and you recognize human language, you lunge to your feet. Asking if he knew your language, because while the sounds are familiar, it’s still nonsense to you. And he’s just staring back at you in incomprehension. It’s the wrong language and you’re not sure whether to laugh or cry. Or scream. You’re still stuck at square one playing charades with giant, alien robots.

• “Still gibberish,” Crankcase growls, leaning back as the human goes on a rant, little hands flapping about and gesturing before you flop back down in frustration. Reaching out he nudges your shoulder with a servo and you immediately swat him. Those eyes glowering when he uses that same servo to tip your chin up. Because he gets it, to be so small and trapped somewhere? Unable to communicate? You must be terrified even if you hide it well. And that’s something he understands. What happened to him left more scars than just the chunk missing from his head. Sometimes the other Scavengers come up on his bad side and he almost swears it’s Thunderwing looming up behind him, that old nightmare digging it’s claws in.

• “Of course it is,” Krok sighs, slumping back on the bench in the cargo hold. Doesn’t even realize when he starts clicking the device in his hand because it’s become a nervous habit by this point. Whenever something goes sideways, he plays with it and now you look up at the noise and meet his optics. As he watches, you hold up your fist, thumb moving to mime him until he stops. “Signal that crook.”

• “I told you,” Misfire growls, wings flaring as he watches you stop copying Krok and look up at him. Unable to understand, but trying. Those intelligent eyes alert. As he watches, Spinister finds that stuffed animal as big as you are and pushes it firmly at you, knocking you flat on your back as you wrap your arms around it in self defense just to get him to stop. “I mean, his name is Swindle,” he mutters as he stalks off.

• Arm looped around the stuffed bear, you crane your neck to watch the one with wings stalk off. They’re obviously all unhappy and it hurts to get your hopes up only to have them crushed again. If you can’t communicate, you can’t ask to go home. You’ve tried mimicking some of the sounds they make, but they always just look at you funny. Expressions giving away that they can’t even tell you’re trying so hard. That your attempts are just nonsense to them. Anxiety lifting through you, you’re aware of the biggest one, the one that had found you and ran you down, still staring at you. He’d scared you nearly to death then, but if he hadn’t spotted you that day? You’d have probably starved on that barren world, scared and alone. He saved you whether or not he realizes it.

• “Think they really were a pet taken after the war?” Fulcrum asks as you chatter at Spinister, trying to get back up only for him to keep pushing you back over with a servo. He’d stop him, but you’re laughing instead of angry. “Why abandon them out here?” Because you haven’t been that much trouble except for the handful of times they’d accidentally poisoned you trying to keep you alive. Swindle’s food at least had been legitimate, though whatever those black and white discs are, you’d tried to devour the entire package as soon as they weren’t paying attention to you. And he’s almost positive you had been swearing at him when he had to take the package away to ration them out slowly. Like now as you manage to get away from Spinister and move as close to him as you can get, big eyes imploring as you hold out a hand. Aware of the others watching as he produces the little package and holds it out, holding up a servo of the other hand in warning. And huffing at him, you take only one instead of trying to snatch them all, reaching out as soon as you pop it in your mouth to pat his servo and mumble nonsense at him.

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[candycandy00]

Office Life (Shigaraki x Reader)

Just Shigaraki awkwardly fantasizing about the cute receptionist who works in the same office building as him. You guys let me know if you like this quick “imagine” format for when I don’t have a full fanfic idea.

Smut. 18+. Violence/Blood (not Reader’s). Gender neutral Reader. Dubcon.

Shigaraki, who never had much interest in sex before, when he was so busy with the League and the war. Sure he jacked off to hentai every now and then, but the thought of having real life sex with a real live person didn’t really enter his brain. 

Until now. 

Shigaraki, who is fresh out of prison and working a dumb office job as part of his “rehabilitation”. Who is ignored and avoided by most of his coworkers because of his very publicized past. 

Shigaraki, who just can’t understand why you’re nice to him, why you smile at him so sweetly, like he’s an actual human being and not a monster. Why you, the cute receptionist from down the hall, keeps coming into the office he works in with five other men, desks all lined up neatly. 

Shigaraki, who likes that you look at him and acknowledge him, but sometimes has the irrational urge to show you how terrifying and monstrous he can be, to make you fear him the way everyone else does.

Shigaraki, who sometimes has violent fantasies about you that he will never act upon. Like today when you come into the room to share cookies you baked and brought in to the office. You, having such an obvious crush on him that even a socially inept weirdo like him can tell, blush and smile shyly when he takes a cookie from the box you hold out to him. 

Shigaraki, who has no idea what you could possibly like about him, but feels a little smug that the rest of the guys in the office are clearly jealous. 

And as you move toward the back of the room handing out cookies, constantly glancing back to see if he’s eating his, as if wanting his approval, Shigaraki’s dark fantasy takes over again. 

He imagines standing up from his chair and moving through the room, decaying each man in turn, most of them still holding their dumb fucking cookies, only to reach the back, where you’re cowering in a corner, trembling with fear as blood pools around your feet. 

You turn around to look at him, terror in those big wet eyes of yours, and then the pleading starts. He imagines you begging him not to kill you, babbling promises to not tell anyone, confessing your love in some desperate attempt to win his favor. You’re still clutching your frilly pink box of homemade cookies in your shaking hands. 

In his fantasy, he has perfect control over his quirk at all times, and with no effort at all he can decay the clothes right off your body, leaving you naked and vulnerable in the room full of bloody chunks. And you drop the cookies in your shock, trying to cover yourself with your hands. 

He won’t allow that. He’s wondered what you look like under your clothes for too long. And so he roughly pulls your hands away, getting an eye full, before shoving your back onto the nearest desk, spreading you open and unbuckling his pants. 

In this fantasy, you always struggle at first. But after he starts fucking you hard, you begin moaning his name, wrapping your arms around him, looking up at him with teary eyes and blushing cheeks as he rails you. 

Shigaraki, who snaps back to reality when you walk by him, the scent of your floral perfume drawing his attention. You look at the uneaten cookie in his hand and a flash of sadness crosses your face. He hurries to take a bite, and tries to give you a smile that isn’t creepy. 

You smile back, and he knows for a fact he will never, ever act on his worst impulses with you. Because far more than his desire to show you how much of a villain he can be, he wants you to keep smiling at him. 

And someday, maybe he’ll stop being a fucking coward and ask you to go to a movie with him.