#this chair is just indescribable | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seonghwaddict · 7 months ago

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not just a distraction — park seonghwa

in which it’s too easy for the new literature professor to pick a favourite.

literature professor!park seonghwa x fem!reader. genre. fluff, angst. warnings. LEGAL teacher-student relationship, implies age-gap, an argument, suggestive, nickname (baby, angel, doll, princess). wc. 10.4k. rating. pg-13.

lilo’s notes. this is my comeback yessss~ anyways, this is part 1 of 2 because the next part will have some… fun activities >:) i hope you guys enjoy this, i’m sorry for being so inactive for the past month but i have lots for you guys to look forward to! excuse any errors i did not proofread this.

listening to. training wheels, melanie martinez / angel, kali uchis.

masterlist.

the first class of the new literature course at your campus garnered the attention of quite a few of the students from the arts department.

there was, of course, a literature class that existed before that one, though a few students had been unhappy with it since the introduction of more contemporary works. the classic masterpieces, they thought (including you), should not be bunched together with colleen hoover.

with enough pressure, the faculty were able to introduce a new course; classic literature. the few students unhappy with the initial course switched into this course instead, delighted by the fact they were allowed to keep their previous credits. a completely new teacher had been hired too, stirring anticipation. all you knew of him was his name, given in the description of the course when you signed up.

so you found yourself in one of the many lecture halls, around fifty others surrounding you. when you walked in, the new professor was at the long chalk board at the front, looking down at a book in his hand while the other wrote something down. you tried catching a glimpse of him, but his positioning faced him away.

but from what you could see, he was quite slender. his grey slacks, neatly ironed, were secured around his hips by a thin black leather belt. his white button up seemed a little large, though it complimented him well, tucked into his trousers with the sleeves rolled halfway up his arms elegantly—his blazer, a grey matching his slacks, shucked off and placed around the back of the chair at his desk. you could also see his hair was dark, a slight waviness to it, a little longer in the back.

finding the most convenient seat, you chose to sit in the left-most seat on the second row, next to a girl you recognised but couldn’t remember the name of even if you tried.

you catch a glimpse of professor park glancing down at his watch, prompting you to do the same. nine in the morning, on the dot.

“literature,” he starts, underlining the bold word on the chalkboard before turning around. and you nearly choke at the sight of his face.

he’s handsome, almost impossibly so, and a lot younger than all your other professores. dainty glasses sit atop the bridge of his nose, carefully placed strands of his hair framining his face as he begins pacing in front of the seats, making sure to look at each students individually.

“it’s many things, but at its core, it’s all about the manipulation of language. language, simply put, is food, nourishing literature. and so, with the intricacies of the art, literature becomes one of the sweetest passions known to man. because what is it if not love and hatred and disgust and every indescribable feeling thrown into a melting pot of prose.”

his voice is captivating, making you feel just a little lightheaded as you listen to his passion intently, all precise words and confidence as he paces, his hands clasped behind his back. you’re hanging off his every word, watching as he stops by his desk to place down the chalk.

it isn’t after a few moments that you realise you were admiring his hand, how it moves to elegantly. the way his fingers gently curl around the little white stick is almost artistic in itself.

he turns around, resting his hips against the edge of the mahogany desk behind him, legs crossed at his ankles and arms crossed over his chest. his eyes scan the room as he continues speaking, occasionally locking with yours. “is it not poetic? how morphemes, for example, or adjectives or conjunctions are the morsels of literature, small parts that are put together to create meaning? of course, something may be described in one word, but there’s something quite magical about being more metaphorical, more intimate.”

he catches you leaning forward in your chair slightly, a small smile tugging at his lips at how captivated you look before he schools his expression. but his focus is quickly redirected when another student raises his hand.

“yes?” professor park pushes himself off the desk, clasping his hands behind his back.

“professor,” he begins—you recognise him as a jock that calls himself dylan, but you know it’s not his real name and he’s probably here to fulfil a requirement to keep him on the volleyball team—his tone incredulous, “don’t you think all this romanticisation of literature is a bit dramatic? we don’t need fancy words to describe everything.”

professor park arches his eyebrow, a soft huff escaping his nose as he took steps in the direction of dyland’s seat. “dramatic? perhaps,” he nodded, eyes fixed on him, “however, as a literature professor, i enjoy the romanticisation of it. my job is to introduce others to the passion that is literature, and therefore i will romanticise it all i wish… what is your name?”

“it’s, uh, dylan?”

his eyebrow quirked once more as he gave the jock a once over, evaluating him. “i see… well, dylan, have you ever felt the rush of emotion when reading something truly spectacular? have you ever read a sentence and felt it like a punch in your chest or a sudden breath of fresh air?”

dylan’s opens his mouth to respond before he is interrupted with a raise if professor park’s palm. “think before you answer, please.”

you nearly laughed at his baffled look, never having seen him so silent, pondering the question for a moment before answering. “well, yes i have.” he answers honestly, earning a nod of approval.

“describe that feeling for me. can you find the correct words to explain the way you felt in that moment?”

dylan tries to explain it the best he can, but your teacher only shakes his head and clicks his tongue. “close, but no. see, it’s difficult putting into words such strong emotions no matter how many synonyms of ‘joyful’ you use.”

he turns away from him to address the rest of the class. “and that is the beauty of literature—it can be used to describe the most indescribable feeling, stringing together individually meaningless words to create something so much more.”

you smile at that, enjoying the link he made. your eyes meet for another moment, a split second that made heat rise to your cheeks under his perceptive gaze. but you blink and his pretty brown eyes are gone.

he takes a moment’s pause, glancing over at the clock in the room before finally addressing the rest of the class again. “i want an assignment from each of you by next class that demonstrates the true beauty of the language we know. it can be anything you feel like writing. a short story, a narrative, an essay, a poem,” his eyes flick over to land on you once again, “i want to see the feeling you want to convey in this written form. and i don’t just mean the happy feelings—get raw and descriptive. write something from the heart.”

the class is dismissed and you pack up your things, heading out but not before trying to catch another glimpse of him in the moving horde of students.

though you hadn’t noticed it, throughout the lecture his eyes lingered on you as well. of course, there were so many students for him to focus on, but none of them seemed quite as captivated as you. judging by the evident fascination on your face as he spoke, he knew you understood every word he said. unlike dylan, apparently.

the next class is on friday, four days away. you take that time or write the assignment. instead of writing a story or a poem, you decide on writing an essay. something where you can really write without the constraints of sticking to a plot. when you’re not in any of your other classes, you’re at your shared house, writing. and if your roommate is being too loud, you take the short bike ride to campus, sitting in your usual corner in the library, also writing.

by the time friday comes around, it’s ready and you’re happy with it, confident in your works as you walk into the lecture hall between some other students. you follow them as they stop at his desk, placing their papers on a stack of other turned in assignments, following suit before sitting at the same seat as last time; far left, second row. this time there’s more people sat at the front, whispering and giggling as they gaze at the professor.

he’s sat at his desk, a similar suit to last like on except a beige colour. his glasses are off and placed on the wooden desk, a book partially obscuring his face as he reads and waits for it to be nine on the dot.

he can vaguely hear the students talking amongst themselves as he reads, but he doesn’t pay it too much mind. it was normal. a lot of his students found him attractive, and that was clear just by the way they talked while he was around. after a while, he glances up at the time, noting it was almost time for class to begin.

he closes his book, setting it off to the side before standing up behind the desk. his hands clasp behind his back.

he glances around the room as more students trickle in and take their seats. he notices you at the second row almost immediately, and he can’t help the small smile that crosses his face. he lets his eyes roam over you for a second before he looks away, noticing the other students chattering in their seats. he clears his throat, loud enough to make them stop and look at him.

“good morning, class.” he says loudly, glancing around once more before resuming, “i’ll be looking over your assignments after class, but for today i’d alike to talk about some literary devices. i know this is classic literature and you’re all expecting to be reading classics, but some groundwork should be set before we jump into analyses. for example, can anyone tell me what a hyperbole is? any guesses?”

he scans the room, as if challenging one of the students to answer. the students in the class are quiet, no one wanting to take the challenge. he hums after a couple minutes and walks around to the front of the desk to lean against the edge of it.

“no one? how about you,” he suddenly says, nodding to you.

you blink, taken aback by the fact he chose you in the sea of fifty-something students. after clearing your throat, you simply say, “an exaggeration, sir.”

he gives a small nod of approval, a smile accompanying it. he expected you to know it, one of the most basic terms in the subject, but could he really be blamed if he just wanted to hear your lovely voice?

“that’s correct. a hyperbole is an exaggeration. it’s also a useful tool in literature to convey specific emotions. i’m sure you’ve come across sentences such as... ‘i could kill him’ or ‘i can’t believe it. this assignment was a literal death sentence.’” he adds the last part in a joking manner, and the few students in the room who were paying attention let out a quiet bout of snickers. he gives you one last small smile before moving on.

he spends the rest of the lesson talking about all sorts of techniques used to enhance literature and the effects they have on the readers. sibilance creates a smooth flow and double entendres are often used to amuse the reader.

nearing the end of the class, he instructs everyone to start on their reading of “the picture of dorian gray” by oscar wilde while he starts going through the turned in assignments. you pull out the book, having borrowed it from the library the other day. you’ve read it before, but it was entertaining enough for you to be willing to read it again, leaning back in your seat comfortably as you flip to the first page.

professor park gets through the first couple of assignments, grading them and adding comments here and there. he finds your essay on the third assignment, and glances up to look at you sitting at your seat, reading so serenely. he takes the time to look you over for a moment before his focus turns to your paper in his hand. he can’t help the slight curiosity as to what you have written, so he begins reading.

he can tell from the quality of the writing alone what kind of writer you were. not like the others, you weren’t rushing with each sentence. no, each word was well thought out, each word placed delicately in the paragraph. it was obvious you had taken the time to write it, and it was obvious that you enjoyed writing even before he finishes reading the introduction. there is passion in the way you laid out your paragraphs. the way it seems so effortless for such words to spill onto your pages.

he finds himself rereading some of the sentences and paragraphs, just to see the way you had worded things. the way you describe how literature can make a person feel could be compared to a piece of art itself. a smile tugs at his lips as he finished reading, having become completely entranced in what you had written. he wanted more, he wanted to read even more of your writing, see more of your passion, more of you. he had expected to have to read through mindless writing but instead he had been surprised by something actually worthwhile.

at the end, he writes a decently-sized comment, a perfect grade circled in his black ink right below.

as he dismisses the class, it takes you a moment to register his words and the people filing out of the hall around you. but once you do, you fold over the corner of the page you’re on and start packing away your items.

as the class is now empty, the only person left in the room besides himself is you. he watches from behind the desk as you pack up your things, noticing the slight hesitation in your movements when you glance towards him. he takes a moment to just watch you before speaking up, his voice firm and clear.

“stay a moment, if you don’t mind.”

you glance up at him before looking around, making sure he was speaking to you before you nod, taking the steps down from the second row to the first, standing at the end of the seats expectantly.

he picks up something from his desk before making his way over to you, his long legs carrying him effortlessly.

he studies your face for a moment, holding up the stapled stack of papers that were your essay. he takes in your features as he speaks, his tone softer now that you’re alone, “you enjoy literature, i take it?”

you glance at the papers before meeting his eyes again, heat rising to your face at the realisation that his full attention was on you. that he was standing so close, just a step away, looking down at you ever so slightly. you give him a nod.

he hums softly in acknowledgement, his eyes looking at your face curiously. he can see the flush of your cheeks clearly, the way you’re keeping your gaze averted from his for the most part.

he glances down at the paper in his hand, tapping it against his fingers gently before looking back at you.

“your assignment. i read it,” he starts, flipping through the pages absentmindedly to keep him from staring at you too long, “it’s quite well written, and i can see the care you put into the language of it. i enjoyed reading it.”

he watches as your eyes queen ever so slightly, a certain sparkle that does not go unnoticed by him; can see the gears turning in your head as you take in his words, your face growing to an endearing mix of shy and embarrassed. he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what he was feeling, couldn’t describe it in any way other than a bloom of warmth in his chest, akin to familiarity.

“oh, thank you, sir.” you smile at him lightly, having been worried you were in trouble and about to be in the receiving end of his scolding.

he hums again, still looking at your face. he can’t help the slight grin that forms on his face as he hears you call him ‘sir.’ he liked the sound of it coming from you. he glances down at the paper again before speaking again, holding the stack out to you.

“i should be thanking you, really. you seem to be the only one to have put some effort into it,” he gave you a soft smile before nodding towards the door, “you may go now, i’ll see you next class.”

you smile and nod, giving him a slight bow before straightening up again. “have a nice day, sir.” and with that you leave, making a beeline to leave campus since you didn’t have anything else to do for the day.

the next time you see him is on monday, in class. he teaches as usual, introducing some context for the book you’re all supposed to be reading. he doesn’t talk to you during the class, though occasionally his eyes find yours and you can’t help but think they soften ever so slightly.

soon enough, you pick up on the fact that you have a similar routine on wednesday evenings. usually, you stay in the campus library for a little longer on those days, whether it’s to read or to work. you like it then because there’s usually barely anyone there, the library big enough for the students that are there to disperse out of each other’s views.

you notice him on your way in, talking to the librarian with a stack of three or four books on the counter. but sometimes you’d see him at a table or couch, or browsing through the shelves. and each time you smile at the sight of him before making your way straight to the second floor, ducking between some bookshelves on the far end to sit in your usual seat.

this may be your favourite spot on campus, maybe the whole city. a little sofa tucked against a big window, two bookshelves—historical fiction—on either side hiding you from the prying eyes of your peers. at this time, the sunlight is just right, a copper glow feeding the two little plants on the windowsill and providing a warmth that felt like a blanket on a cold winter day. it wasn’t too bright, able to look outside without squinting your eyes, enough light to read comfortably. there’s also a little round table that you use to place your laptop on if you need to work, though often you push it aside, favouring to relax on the plush sofa against the soft pillow and get lost in the pages of whatever book you got your hands on.

he’s noticed you there before, on his way to pick up a book from the bibliography section, right next to the historical fiction section where you resided. he soon comes to notice your form among the bookshelves that he passes by, doing a double take before he forces himself to continue along his way. when he finishes the bibliography exactly a week later, he offers to bring it back to its previous spot; in reality, he just wanted to see whether or not you’d be there again.

and sure enough, you were. and he slows down in his movements, looking at the way you’re curled up comfortably in the sofa.

he finds himself watching you silently from a distance for a while, just watching you flip to the next page in your book as you lay comfortably against the pillow, to absorbed in the story to notice him. you look completely at ease there, he finds himself thinking. the sunlight from the window seems to caress your features softly, and a part of him wondered what it would be like to be the sunlight for once, to touch your skin so softly and admire the details of it.

he watches you for a while, taking in your expressions as you turn the pages, before deciding to make his presence known. he takes a step, his leather shoes clunking against the polished wooden floors, “mind if i join you?”

your eyes dart up at the sound of his voice, flinching as you were caught off guard. once his words process, you offer him a smile, nodding as you retract your feet from the sofa to make some space for him. “yeah, of course, professor.”

he smiles warmly at your reply, settling into the newly available space on the sofa. now sitting, he realizes just how small the space is. it’s a two seater, so he ends up sitting very close to you, his side pressed right up to the armrest to prevent from being pressed against you. he glances at your face, noting the small reaction you had when you weren’t expecting him to approach. cute.

he leans back a little to get comfortable on the sofa. it’s quiet between them for a moment, both of them looking outside or at their books. the silence isn’t awkward, he finds. in fact, he quite enjoyed it in such proximity to you. he turns his gaze to watch your face, studying you; the curve of your nose, your lips that are pulled into a frown ever so slightly as you concentrate. his gaze then flicks down, to your sweatpants-clad legs tucked under you on the sofa, and lower to the hand holding the book.

you sit together in silence for a while, reading your respective books. you can’t stop yourself from glancing up at him occasionally, however, just wanting to catch a glimpse of his soft hair or perfect plump lips or the slope of his neck.

but when the sun go too low and the lights too dim and you could barely keep your eyes open, you let out a soft yawn, stretching. he glances up, opening his mouth to say something before his throat suddenly feel to dry to produce any words, distracted by the arch of your back and the curves of your hips. you look so inviting.

“tired?” he manages to force out with a slight chuckle, watching you slump back into your seat. he has the urge to brush away the stray hairs that fall over your cheeks.

you glance at him, nodding as you pull yourself off the couch for one last stretch before gathering your stuff and facing him. “i should probably head home,” you mutter.

“alright,” he pushes himself off the couch, closing his book, “i’ll walk you out.”

too tired to argue and insist he didn’t have to, you just nod, turning on your heels to walk out of the shelves, waiting at the end for him. the walk is silent, holding your breath and heart thumping in your chest each time his fingers brush against the back of your hand as you walk side by side.

this became a new routine. every wednesday, you’d find him or he’d find you, sitting in the little brown leather couch. and you’d stay there together for a while, talking or laughing or working or reading. there was no longer an awkward space separating the two of you, happily resting against each other, far from worried that anyone would see.

neither of you mentioned it, but it was the elephant in the room. you didn’t know what to call it, whatever was happening between you. but it felt good, it made you want to cling to his shirt and bury your face into the warm curve of his neck and never let go. but you couldn’t, no matter how much either of you wanted to.

and as the lines between professor and student blurred, you found yourself looking forward to your wednesdays with him.

and so did he. still, he often thought about how he behaved around you, like it was a secret meant for him and you and you and him.

the way he would find himself sitting closer and closer to you. the way he’d find his gaze lingering on you for too long. the way his mind would wander on how it would feel to run his fingers through your hair, trails them along your thighs. oh, how badly he wants to feel your skin against his own. the idea of what he was doing was dangerous, foolish for someone of his position.

but it’s hard to care when you’re right there next to him, in the soft light that makes your skin glow, your face relaxed and content as you read beside him.

one particular friday evening, it’s pouring, and you’re standing outside under where the roof of the humanities building entrance protruded, protecting me from the rain. this morning you had decided to walk to school instead taking the bike, though you suppose it wouldn’t have been much better with a bike.

your shoes are already wet from the puddle you had accidentally stepped into on your way out, your clothes soaked from having walked into the rain for a minutes as you hug your messenger bag close to your chest.

he’s on his way to his car when he spots you standing by the doorway, and he frowns as he notices you, soaked from the rain that pours mercilessly. he glances around, noticing the lack of anyone nearby thanks to the weather, before making his way towards you.

he stops a few steps in front of you, opening his umbrella to block the rain above both of you. "what are you doing standing out in the rain?"

“i walked to school this morning,” you look from him to the pouring rain, just a step away, “didn’t check the weather.”

he takes you in for a moment, taking in the way your clothes are sticking to you, your hair slightly damp. a small part of him found it quite adorable to see you like this.

"you’re soaked," he says, his voice firm and concerned, "you’re going to get sick like this." as if on cue, a shiver racks through your body. he notices, his expression softening as he takes a step closer, offering his free hand. “come on, i’ll drive you home.”

“oh, you really don’t have to,” you smile at him, grateful at his offer, worried about getting his car wet with your clothes, “i can just wait here until the rain stops.”

his eyes narrow slightly, taking your wrist lightly. "don’t be ridiculous," he scolds, "you’ll freeze to death if i leave you here."

you blink at him, not used to being on the receiving end of his firm tone. his concern making the corners of your lips tug up, you sighed softly, nodding, “alright, lead the way.”

a small smirk pulls at his lips as he watches you relent, giving in to his words. he steps to your side, releasing your wrist and putting a hand on the small of your back to guide you towards the parking lot.

he pulls a tissue from his pocket, unfolding it and using it to gently pat your face. you giggle softly at his attempts to dry your face, reaching one of your hands up to take the handkerchief, your fingers brushing against each other before you dry your face yourself, your other hand helping him hold the umbrella in the strong wind, hand a little lower than his on the handle.

he looks at you with a small smile as his hand rests on the umbrella’s handle, moving to cover yours. his hand is a little bigger and warmer than yours. but as he guides you further towards the parking lot, he notices you shivering again, the cold air starting to get to you.

"if you get a cold, it’s your fault." he teases slightly, pulling you closer to his side, making you stumble a little before you regain your footing.

“oh no, i won’t be able to attend your 9 am lecture on monday, whatever will i do?” you gasp dramatically, holding back a laugh as you joke around, instinctively glancing around in case anyone saw. but everyone was gone, rushing home in the midst of the downpour.

he lets out a low laugh at your dramatic response, rolling his eyes playfully at you.

"stop that," he chastises, his hand on your waist keeping you from falling. it was hard to miss the nervous looks your threw around, and he knew exactly why.

“hm?” you glance up at him as he stops in front of what you assume is his car. it’s a black mercedes, sleek and modern. you clasp your hands behind your back, tilting your head, “no idea what you’re talking about.”

he pushes open the passenger door of his car, gesturing for you to get in. he shakes his head slightly with a scoff, his gaze raking down your figure for just a moment.

“sure you don’t,” he says in a slightly teasing tone, “just get in the car, angel.”

you blush lightly at the nickname but shake your thoughts away, looking down at the leather passengers seat before looking up at him again “but i’ll get your seat wet and mess it up.”

it takes him a moment to process your words, distracted by how the flush of your cheeks makes you look even lovelier. the thought that he was able to make you blush like that because of a simple nickname makes him bite back a giddy smile.

he shakes his head. “i’ll take my chances. just get in, you’re shivering.”

you don’t move for a moment, weighing your options; get his seat a little wet, or walk in the rain. deciding the former is obviously the better choice, you thank him silently as you slip into the passenger seat, securing your seatbelt after resting your bag in your lap

he shuts the door behind you and circles the car, walking to the driver’s side. his steps are a little rushed, eager to get out of the rain and into the warmth of the car.

he gets in the car, pulling the door shut behind him before he looks over at you. you sit quietly, your head down and hands in your lap.

it’s silent for a brief moment before he speaks up. “i’m gonna need your address, you know.”

“oh, right.” you hum, leaning forward to the screen on the dashboard to type in your address. it takes some effort, your muscles mostly focused on your legs as you try not to seat my full weight in an attempt to not ruin his seat despite what he said earlier.

he says absolutely nothing, his gaze glued to the arch of your back. he swallows hard, clenching his jaw as he keeps his eyes trained on you, fighting the urge to reach a hand and touch you.

he clears his throat, “just lean back into the seat.”

before you can protest, he’s pushing down on your thigh until you’re fully seated. you give him a playful glare as you finish typing the address. it’s just over a five-minute drive, while walking in this weather would’ve taken you nearly twenty.

he looks at you with a chuckle, his hand still on your thigh, giving it a slight squeeze.

“now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he jokes, giving your thigh a tap before pulling his hand away, turning the ignition on and pulling out of the parking space.

the drive to your place is quiet except for the sound of the rain outside. he has the heat on full blast to keep you warm. every now and then he glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

the heat makes you shudder, holding your fingers up to the air to warm them up a bit.

he can’t help as his mind thinks of how cute you look, all bundled up with your bag in your lap. and the urge to touch you, god, the urge to run his fingers through your hair.

“we’re almost there, don’t worry,” he mutters as he tears his gaze away from you.

“hey, um,” you start after a few moments of silence, glancing at him, “if you want, you can come up and we could have some coffee or tea or something together. if my roommate doesn’t mind, which she probably won’t, she’s really nice so i wouldn’t worry. but you don’t have to if you don’t want to! i just, uh, wanna thank you properly… for this.”

he watches with a fond smile as you ramble, stopping at a red light. he’s about to accept the offer, tell you that he’d love to, but the realisation of your roommate being there changes things, his expression turning solemn.

“i don’t think that’s a good idea…” he mumbles, avoiding your piercing eyes.

your brows furrow ever so slightly, a frown threatening to override your features. “why not?”

he swallows, pulling over in front of the address you had typed into the gps.

“i’m your professor,” he starts, his tone firm, “it would be unprofessional if we’re caught.”

he hopes you can’t notice the way he’s gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary.

“that hasn’t stopped you so far, though,” you muse, chuckling lightly despite your confusion of his suddenly change in sentiments, trying to ease the tension.

“but don’t you think it’s a bit suspicious that we’ve been sitting together in the library every week, completely hidden away?” he mutters, “if someone saw us, someone who didn’t know, it would look bad. this could be worse.”

“i thought you liked being there with me…” his words get to you this time, actually frowning as you turn to look out the window instead of at him, noticing you were in front of your house.

shit.

he mentally berates himself upon noticing the slight change in your expression, realizing with a pang of guilt that his words bothered you, having come out the wrong way.

“oh, angel,” he starts, letting go of the steering wheel. his hand reaches for you, and before he can stop himself, it’s cradling your face.

“i do. i like being with you there,” he sighs, gently pulling your face to make you look at him, his thumb caressing your cheek. “you have no idea how much i enjoy it.”

his touch on your face feels warm, and his words even warmer as his directs you to look at him. you don’t say anything.

he’s not used to this, to you being quiet and still. he’s too used to your carefree self being full of jokes and laughter. he doesn’t like you like this, looking at him with disappointment written on your face.

“what i meant is,” he murmurs, the pad of his thumb moving across your cheek to your chin, tilting your head up so your eyes meet his, “i’m just worried about your roommate.”

“i like spending time with you, princess,” he continues, his tone firmer this time, “i like it a lot, alright?”

your frown eases at his words, nodding as you answer in a whisper, “okay.”

he lets out a small sigh of relief, his fingers tracing down from your chin to the side of your neck, and then your collarbone. he gently caresses your skin with the lightest of touch, letting the pad of his fingertip graze your skin.

he tries to ignore the voice in the back of his mind telling him to tug you across the console and kiss you. he shouldn’t.

he shakes himself out of his thoughts, pulling his hand away reluctantly. glancing out the window, he sees your place right in front of him.

“we’re here,” he murmurs, looking back at you. his gaze softens when he sees the remnants of the frown still on your face, and his hand gently reaches out to give your thigh a light squeeze.

“come on,” he says quietly, “let’s go.”

you look out the window before nodding, unbuckling and stepping out, walking to your front door as he accompanies you with an umbrella. you rummage around in your bag, trying to find the keys. groaning as you realise you were in such a rush this morning you must’ve forgotten them in the bowl where you and your roommate place your keys so you don’t lose them. with a sigh, you ring the doorbell, waiting for her to answer.

but she never comes. and that’s when you realise she had the late shift at work today. you groan, frustrated as you thump your forehead against the wooden door.

great, he thinks to himself as he watches you struggle trying to get inside. and then you turn around, with a frustrated sigh, and a thump of the door.

he can’t help but feel like the world is against him. the universe wants to punish him, to test his limits.

he bites the inside of his cheek, watching you and listening to you as you mutter about your locked door.

“i don’t have my keys, my roommate isn’t home,” you explain, kicking the door light before burying your face in your hands, your voice a little muffled, “oh, i’m so sorry, hwa.”

he stands there, watching you explain your situation, and he fights back a smile at your last sentence.

hwa*.*

he likes it when you call him that. spending three months growing closer, you’ve evidently given each other little nicknames.

he glances over at the parked car behind him, before back at you. “do you need a place to stay?” he asks, trying to keep his tone neutral again.

“i don’t wanna bother you too much,” you shake your head, running your hands over your face ��please, i can just wait here for her to get back.”

he doesn’t like how you’re trying to push him away. frowning, watching you as you shake your head and run your hands over your face in defeat. he closes the distance between you, taking hold of your wrists and pulling your hand away from your face gently.

“it’s pouring,” he reminds you, “your clothes are soaking wet. and you think you can just sit here on the front porch until your roommate comes back?”

“i don’t want to inconvenience you any more,” you murmur, your hands relaxing as he pulls your wrists away from your face.

his chest tightens at your words, at how stubborn you’re being. he sighs.

“you’re not inconveniencing me,” he insists, “i’d feel better knowing you’re inside with dry clothes and a warm drink than out here soaked to the bone.”

you contemplate his offer for a moment before sighing, nodding, “okay, if you insist.”

his heart nearly skips a beat at your agreement, and it takes all his willpower not to visibly show the relief that washes over him.

he tightens his hold on your wrist for a moment, before gently guiding you back to his car. he opens the passenger door for you, waiting until you get in before he shuts the door and circles around to the driver’s side.

he starts the ignition again, the warm air blasting through the vents yet again. you hold your hands in front of the hot air again, glancing over as you hear his door open and close as he slips. “in is it a long drive?”

he lets out a scoff, looking over to you with a teasing smile. “it’s a whole two minute drive. i’ll try not to bore you too much.”

he turns back to the window, pulling out of the parking spot. the rain starts again, and the sound of it pounds against window before he turns on the wipers.

“oh dear me, i can already feel myself falling asleep,” you slump your head back and pretend to snore, back to being playful.

he turns to look at you, watching your dramatics with a fond grin. “shut up, you,” he says, reaching out to pinch your side gently.

you giggle as he pinches your side, opening your eyes again to look out the window, watching buildings and cars glide past as he drives smoothly. true to his word, just a few minutes later he’s pulling into the underground parking lot of an apartment building.

he parks in front of a spot numbered ‘407’, cutting the ignition as soon as he does.

he glances at you briefly before nodding almost to himself.

“come on,” he says with a jerk of his chin, gesturing for you to follow as he gets out of the car.

his longer strides have him walking faster than usual, and it takes him a conscious effort to slow down for you to keep up.

he presses the ‘up’ button and the elevator doors part within seconds. he steps into the elevator, holding the door open for you to enter.

it’s a silent ride up. his mind is racing, though he doesn’t show it outwardly. his hands are in his pocket, and he keeps his eyes trained on the blinking numbers signifying each floor.

the elevator dings and the doors open and he steps out without looking back to see if you’re following, striding down the hallway, making a turn to a door marked ‘407’.

he fishes for his keys in his pocket, pulling them out before unlocking and opening the door as you look around the empty hallway, your gaze lingering on the mass-produced paintings hanging on the wall that he knows can be seen on every other floor of this building.

the apartment is spacious, with plenty of open floor space for the front room. the color scheme is simple and neat, with a large armchair and a small couch that sits in front of a flat screen tv, as well as a wooden coffee table.

he steps in, taking a moment to kick his shoes off and set his stuff down. he looks over his shoulder, watching you step into the apartment as he places his umbrella in the umbrella rack and hangs up his coat.

you grimace as your shoes squelch when you step in, muttering apologies as you take them off and leave them outside of the door in the hallway instead, not wanting to mess up his flooring.

he raises an eyebrow, watching you as you leave your wet shoes in the hall. he’s about to say something when he’s interrupted by the sound of a small meow.

a ball of black fur appears at his feet, nuzzling against his ankle, and he smiles, scooping the cat into his arms without a word.

he scratches behind the cat's ears as it purrs in his arms, the sound of its soft mews filling the room. he can see a hint of confusion on your face, watching the cat with interest as he holds it, its front paws resting on his chest.

"his name is kuma," he explains, bringing the cat up to his face and letting it rub against his cheek.

you nearly melt at the sight, stepping into the house with wet socks as you coo at the cat, the front door falling shut behind you automatically. “i didn’t know you have a cat.”

he has to physically stop himself from grinning as you nearly swoon at the sight of his cat, covering up his smile with a cough. he shakes his head, lowering the cat gently to the floor. it runs over in your direction, nuzzling against your ankles much like it did to him moments ago, before disappearing down the hallway into the heart of the apartment.

"i got him a couple months back," he says, taking in the sight of your soaked clothes once more. he lets out a sigh, tilting his head toward the hall.

he glances down at your feet, eyeing your soaked socks, before looking back up to your face.

"you can shower if you'd like. I can lend you some clothes to change into," he says, pointing down the hall toward the bedroom.

“oh, yes please,” you nod, relieved that he offered instead of you having to ask.

he nods and starts down the hallway, motioning for you to follow him. as you follow, you look around. just like his car, the design of his apartment is sleek and modern, glowing in warmth as he uses a variety of floor lamps and shelf lamps to light up the interior instead of headache-inducing overhead lights. the furniture and walls are light in colour, a variety of whites and beiges.

it’s an open floor plan, the kitchen and living grouped together, separated by a counter island and some stools. the countertops of the kitchen have a glossy white finish, everything clean. a narrow hallway leads to some three doors, which you assume are his bedroom, a bathroom, and guest bedroom or office.

he stops first in front of a door, where the cat lies on the floor, tail flicking back and forth. he bends down to pet the cat briefly.

"that's the bathroom. the towels are in there. I'm just going to grab some clothes for you," he says, giving you a quick glance before striding away toward the bedroom.

your eyes follow him as he walks away, before letting out a soft yelp at the feeling of something furry wrapping around your ankle. looking down, you realise it’s kuma, giggling as you crouch down to pet him.

he returns a few moments later, taking a moment to watch as you play with his cat so nicely before clearing his throat, making you stand back up as he hands you the stack of clothes.

“feel free to use whatever you need in there,” he nods towards the bathroom door, “you can leave your clothes in the basket, i’ll put them in the laundry later.”

“thank you, hwa.” you grin at him, accepting the clothing before disappearing into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

you shower with warm water, relaxing every muscle in your body as you wash off the rain. without any other choices, you’re left to use his shampoo. it smells of him, a deep vanilla. when you finish, you dry off and change into the clothes he brought, using your own previous undergarments as he obviously didn’t have those on hand.

the clothes are quite large on you, hanging off your body as you tighten the string of the sweatpants. you pat your hair partially dry with the towel before tossing everything in the laundry basket, stepping out to go to the living room.

only to see he wasn’t there. shrugging, you figure he’ll return soon as you flop onto the couch, kuma coming to sit with you after a moment. you sprawl out a bit as you realise just how spacious the couch is, the cat padding all over your body, playing with the drawstrings of the hoodie he gave you before curling up on your stomach.

meanwhile, he’s in the shower of his bedroom’s en-suite bathroom attempting to get himself together, both physically and mentally. the water feels amazing on his skin as it beats down on him, and he tries to relax his muscles as he lathers shampoo in his hair.

but his mind keeps going back to you, and how you’re probably already in his living room.

wearing his clothes.

he sighs, leaning his head against the shower wall as he tries to push those thoughts out of his mind. he stands there for what feels like hours, letting the hot water hit his skin before shutting off the shower and stepping out. he dries himself off, quickly drying his hair enough so that it’s not dripping all over his floor before he getting in record time, pulling on an old pair of sweats and a loose black shirt.

he takes another deep breath, opening the bathroom door as he ruffles his damp hair. he starts to make his way toward the living room, hoping that you’re just as nervous as he is.

he turns the corner and enters the living room, nearly freezing in his place at the sight of you sitting on the couch with kuma. you look good. comfortable.

by the time he makes it back, you’d be kuma are no longer sitting calmly, practically rolling around on the couch as you try to get away from the playful punches of his paws. he feels his heart flutter at the sight and the sound of your laughter.

there’s just something about seeing you getting along with his cat that makes his heart nearly skip a beat. he silently watches from the hall for a moment, just gazing at the two of you playing together before clearing his throat to make his presence known.

you look up at the sound, grinning at him stupidly. you glance at his clothes, noting that he’s wearing comfortable clothes now rather than his usual suits. “oh, hey,” you say between giggles as kuma continues to jump all over you.

his heart stutters at the sight of your grins and the sound of your giggles, at the joyful look on your face. he swallows, forcing his arms to cross over his chest to keep himself from reaching out and pulling you against him.

trying to appear nonchalant even though he’s having a hard time doing so, he walks over to the couch, standing at the end of the coffee table and looking down at you.

“seems like you’re having fun together,” he remarks with a slight nod towards kuma.

“uh huh,” you nod before squealing, covering your face as kuma’s paws swat against your cheek, attacking you, your stomach hurting from laughing.

he lets out a scoff, watching kuma pawing at you and your failed attempts to shield your face from the attacks. he can’t help but let a small smile settle on his face, his heart fluttering again at the sight of you two.

“he’s playing rough,” he comments with a smile, walking to the couch and plopping down beside you.

you crawl over to his other side, hiding your face under his arms as kuma chases, “help me, hwa.”

his heart skips a beat as you hide under his arm, ducking away from the harmless kitten. he can’t help but laugh, finding the situation both endearing and adorable.

“I think you can handle kuma, doll,” he teases, grinning down at you as you continue to use him as a human shield.

“he’s a beast,” you try to sound serious, your voice muffled against his sleeve as kuma starts attacking him instead.

“he’s not that bad,” he teases, grabbing the cat by his little body and lifting him up in front of his face, “see? look at this face. he’s not even one bit menacing.”

“that’s the face of evil!” you exclaim, sitting up and placing the back of your hand on your forehead to fall into his lap dramatically, feigning death, my body draped over his thighs faced down.

he looks down at you as you go limp against him, and he can’t help but laugh at your antics.

“don’t be so dramatic,” he grins. he lets kuma go, watching as he climbs down your combined bodies to muzzle against your cheek before moving away to curl up in his usual spot in the corner of the couch. “i think he’s gonna end up liking you more than me.”

“good,” you hum, closing your eyes and relaxing in his lap, forearm under your chin so it doesn’t dig into his legs.

he rolls his eyes jokingly, resting his hand on your back and tracing down your spine, “very funny.”

you chuckle at his response, sighing softly, content where you are. in the privacy of his home, you’re not scared of being affectionate, especially not as his hand traces down to rest against the small of your back, eliciting a faint shudder.

his heart hammers in his chest as his hand trails further down to the back of your thigh, the feeling of your plump flesh beneath the fabric, under his touch igniting something in him. he has to remind himself to breathe, trying to control the rush of blood that is steadily flowing downward.

enjoying the feeling of his hand kneading the back of your thigh, you go a little silent before turning to look up at him, a question that’s been balancing on the top of my tongue for three months finally spilling out.

“hwa… what exactly are we? what is this?” you point between the two of you as you mutter the question.

his hand freezes the second he hears it. he’s been avoiding that question since the two of your really started seeing each other every wednesday months ago, but he knows he can’t anymore. not when it’s thrown straight at his face.

he takes a deep breath, avoiding your gaze for a moment. he lets the silence sit for a few more seconds as he considers his answer, then looks down at you.

“i don’t know,” he mutters, his hand moving to rest on your waist, “i’ve been asking myself the same thing.”

“well, what is this to you then?” you ask softly, sitting up to be eye level with him, kneeling beside him.

the question sounds more demanding coming from you face to face, eye to eye, and his heart is beating fast enough that he fears you can hear it. he swallows, looking into your eyes.

“a distraction,” he mutters, his gaze flitting to your lips for a moment before going back to your eyes, preparing his next words.

but before he can continue, you visibly deflate at his answer, sitting back as i nod. a distraction. “i see,” you tear your gaze away from him, getting up, making his hand drop from you, “i’m gonna go to bed, wheres the guest room?”

he feels his heart twist at the sight of you leaving his touch, a dejected look on your face.

he’s never seen you back off so quickly before. not like this. he watches you get up and stand over him, a step too far for him to reach for you agajn, his heart tightening in his chest.

“wait, doll-“ he starts, reaching out to take your hand.

“what? you said what you said.”

“i didn’t mean it like that,” he mutters, his tone firmer. he stands up from the couch, towering over you. he holds a hand out to you. “come here, please.”

“then how else could you possibly mean it,” you scoff lightly, eying his hand but not taking it.

“listen, doll,” he mutters, holding back a huff of frustration. “you can’t seriously think that I would call this a distraction,” he gestures between the two of you. “a distraction. you really think that you are just a distraction to me?”

“well is that not what you said?” you mutter, trying to prevent your lips from trembling as a lump latches itself onto your throat.

he lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. he reaches out and grabs your wrist, tugging you closer to him. he can feel the tension in your body, and he hates it. he hates himself for causing it.

“you didn’t let me finish. i didn’t mean it like that,” he mutters, looking directly into your eyes, resting your hands in his chest. “you’re not just some random, meaningless distraction to me.”

your fingers flex slightly as he holds them up to his chest, right over his heart, “then tell me how you really feel about me if i’m not a distraction”

he looks into your eyes, holding onto your wrists firmly but gently, his thumbs rubbing against your skin, the inside of your wrists.

he’s never seen you like this before. this vulnerable and open in front of him. he can feel the tension in your body, the stiffness in your shoulders and the tightness in your jaw.

he wants to smooth out those frowning lines on your face, erase that look of uncertainty in your eyes.

“you’re more than just a distraction to me,” he mutters. “you’re an obsession. you’re all i think about, doll. i think about you constantly. i don’t know how else to describe it other than an obsession,” he continues, his voice getting softer as he speaks. “i can’t shake you. you’ve gotten in my head and you’ve been living in there rent free for months and you refuse to get out. even when i try to ignore you,” he lets out a scoff, looking into your eyes, “even when i pretend to ignore you, you’re still there. you don’t leave my mind.”

his heart races as the words spill out of his mouth, like there’s a dam bursting inside of him. the feelings that he’s been bottling up for months finally coming out, and he doesn’t want to stop, letting those words tumble out and onto you. he can see that you’re listening intently, that you’re listening intently as his grip on your wrists tightens, almost as if he’s scared that you’re going to run away from him.

“you’ve got me so distracted i can barely focus on anything that doesn’t involve you,” he admits in a low voice, glancing down at your wrists. “i can’t even teach my own goddamn class without thinking about you.”

you’re speechless, even as he finishes, staring up at him with wide dumbfounded eyes, feeling his hammering heart beneath your fingertips just as how he feels yours under his as his thumbs continue to rub the inside of your wrists.

you suppose you can always rely on a literature professor for an extravagant, dramatic confession.

he continues to hold onto you. he’s never seen you this speechless and dumbfounded before, and he’s torn between how good it feels to see you like this and how bad it things could go now that his feelings were out.

he swallows, looking down at your wrists. he can feel your pulse point under his thumb. “say something, angel,” he murmurs, a pleading tone in his voice.

instead, you pull your hands out of his grip to wrap them around his neck, pulling him down, placing your lips against his urgently, your eyes falling shut.

his heart hammers in his chest as he kisses you back, his hands gripping your waist and pulling you against him, his fingers curling into your hoodie. he wants to kiss you forever, wants to make up for all those months of holding back, but his lungs are burning from the lack of air and he’s forced to pull away to breathe.

he lets out a sigh, his forehead falling to the crown of your head. his hands stay on you, still holding you against him. he can still feel your heart racing against his chest.

“that was your idea of saying something?”

“uh huh,” you hum, chuckling softly as you thread your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, mind full of him. seonghwa, seonghwa, seonghwa.

he closes his eyes as he feels your fingers, enjoying the feeling of your fingertips against his scalp. he still has his arms around you, unwilling to let go yet. he leans down just enough to press a kiss to your temple, his lips brushing softly against your skin.

“but seriously,” you snicker, pulling away from him a little “i am kinda tired, wheres the guest bed?”

he almost lets out a whine when you pull away from him, opening his eyes reluctantly. he looks down at you, a frown on his face.

“you’re really gonna go sleep by yourself?” he mutters, an almost petulant tone in his voice as he quirks his brow.

“is that not what i’m supposed to do?“

“you really think i’m going to let you sleep alone after… that? come on now, you’re not that dense.”

“i know, i just wanted you to say it,” you giggle after a moment, grinning up at him as you lean down to scoop up kuma from the couch.

he lets out a scoff, rolling his eyes, but he’s unable to hide the small smile of his own. he reaches out and ruffles your hair, letting out a scoff. “you’re insufferable.”

“and you just said you’re obsessed with me,” you shrug, kissing his cheek as his hand find the small of your back, leading you don’t the hallway, “where does the kitty sleep?”

he looks down at kuma, still curled up in your arms, practically purring himself to death. “baby, he’s a cat. he’ll sleep wherever he wants.”

you snort, setting him down on a little armchair in the corner of his room, next to some bookshelves stacked with books upon books, and more books. you lean down to pet him a few more times as seonghwa watches you with a fond smile.

he watches you as he sits on the bed, his heart clenching at how good you look in his bedroom. it feels almost surreal, having you here in his home. he pats the spot next to him.

“get over here, baby.”

networks. @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet @wonderlandnet @atzhouse

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl

@likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd

@coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf @okdudeiime

#cromernet #wonderlandnet #cultofdionysusnet #pirateeznet #atzhouse #ateez x reader #ateez #park seonghwa smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa headcanons #seonghwa angst #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa imagines #ateez reactions #ateez smut #ateez fluff

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azsazz · 5 days ago

Text

At Fault

Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: HAPPY NEW YEAR!! AUTHOR! ⭐🎀 Could u make a rhysand x reader where reader is misunderstood as a mole and tortured and stuffs by rhys himself? Uk what i mean, right 😭

Like lots of angst but a bit smut sprinkled on top?

Warnings: Torture, blood, cuts, smut, oral (f receiving).

Word Count: 3347

Notes: Well, now that I don't have tiktok anymore, that means that theoretically i should have more time for fics, right? 😭

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“I’m not asking again,” the male spits, growling in your face. You’ve watched his eyes darken to black with each minute of torture that passes. His voice is a knife all on its own, and he leans so far into you that you can feel the scrape of his teeth against the apple of your cheek when he speaks. “Who do you work for.”

You might answer if you could. No, you know you’ve answered this question before, the winged male just doesn’t believe you. You’ve been here for days, limbs wound tightly to the uncomfortable chair they tied you to as soon as they caught you in the thicket of their border.

If you could gather enough saliva in your mouth, you’d use it to spit right back in his face. You would savor that much more than swallowing it in a futile attempt to wet your throat. It’s been days—months?—since you were ambushed in the middle of the woods, on your trek through the Night Court lands to deliver a message from your mother.

Your voice is a barely-there rasp. You wish you could scream and yell, shout like the first days you were in this dungeon, trapped with only the blue glow from the stones adorning your torturer’s armor. With the way he squeezes your jaw in his harsh grip, it pains you to speak.

“I already told you,” you add as much vitriol as you can muster. “I’m from the Night Court.”

The male releases you with an annoyed snarl. You stretch your mouth, watching as he turns his back from you. His wings are tucked tightly to his back, and you can’t help the stab of jealousy that accompanies the sight of them. He steps closer to the table where his glistening weapons lie. The glimmer of his azure gems gleam across the metal, and you shiver when you catch the short, sharp knife that he’d spent hours nicking your flesh with. He’d spent the following hour cleaning your blood from the blade before polishing said weapon, all whilst goading you into admitting where you came from.

The funny thing is, you aren’t lying. You’re from the Night Court, the Illyrian camps in fact. Ironhelm is a recent development, made up of females and children and even a few males who wanted a better life for themselves. A revolt of sorts. Ones who could no longer suffer under the reign of warlords who praise nothing but violence.

If the male lifted the back of your shirt like you pleaded a thousand times, he would see the deep scarring from where your wings would be, if you still had them.

If he brought the High Lord to you like you asked for, you wouldn’t be trapped in the depths of the Night Court. You wouldn’t be battered and bruised, wouldn’t be on the verge of starvation, wouldn’t be moments away from passing out from dehydration.

The male plucks a new weapon for today’s session after examining a few different weapons. The blade he turns with has a harsh curve to it, and you’re not sure it’s purpose, but it looks menacing as fuck.

You straighten in your chair, wincing when the restraints pull at your already tender skin. Your wrists are rubbed raw from the way you squirmed in pain beneath his blades, from every time you writhed in a desperate attempt to escape. They never loosened a centimeter, and they feel tighter around your swollen limbs than they did the first time you attempted to free yourself.

“No,” you beg, kicking your legs against the ties. It’s useless, you’re not going anywhere, forced to suffer indescribable pain when all you had to do was deliver a message to the High Lord himself. “Please! I’m telling you; I’m from the Night Court. Stop!”

You can see your reflection in the weapon as it draws near. You look like you feel, like you were dragged here from Ironhelm by your hair. Your eyes have deep purple rings around them, your skin sunken and littered with wounds, both scabbed and fresh.

The male gives pause, eyes taking on a sheen to them that you haven’t seen before. Like his focus is half on you, half on something else. But there’s no one here, no one but you, him, and the blade in his hand that you’re pretty sure has a name of its own, too.

Your heart is in your throat. It gives a hearty pump with each passing second. This is worse, you think, the looming threat of death only inches from your face, the anticipation of a brush against your skin.

“Fine,” he mutters, and you’re not sure if he’s talking to you, but there’s no one else here. You don’t know what he means until the knife inches further and further from you as he retracts, pinning you to your chair with an ice-cold glare that freezes the exhale of relief in your lungs.

With that as his last word, the male disappears into a mist of shadow, and you’re alone.

There’s no time to catch your breath, to rest your eyes or dry the tears that have somehow managed to slip from your eyes without your knowledge. Something worse is coming, you can feel it in the air, the crackle of power that fills the room. The walls tremble and you hiss as the chair you’re in jolts, your restraints buzzing against your raw skin. The temperature drops further, and you can see your breath, just as a figure appears in front of you.

His presence makes you cower, shrinking into your seat. There’s a feeling of wrongness in the air, one that has the soldered wounds on your back burn with phantom pain. Or, perhaps the pain is real. You can’t tell.

“Who—” you stutter, afraid to even ask. “Who’s there?”

A low rumble shakes the room. No, it’s in your head. It crawls up your spine and takes root in your mind.

It’s not just a rumble.

It’s laughter.

“Wha-what?” You shriek. You’re too exhausted, too out of your mind to realize that it’s the High Lord. You’ve heard of what he can do, how he crawls into the minds of fae like a spider, quietly and discreetly weaving webs of intricate lies, making them forget who they are and become the soldiers and spies he wants them to be. Such tales had been shit spit from mouths of the Illyrian’s you grew up around, before you escaped to Ironhelm. They are the only stories of the ruler of the Night Court that you know.

And now he’s here to do just that to you.

Your scream doesn’t even escape your throat. You’re frozen to the spot, eyes wide with fear, spine arched against the chair. You struggle against the magic that keeps you from moving, but it’s no use, you’re like a rat trapped in a maze of the High Lord’s own creation, and the maze is you.

The male steps closer. With a sharp snap that stings your ears, a faelight illuminates the dungeon. Your eyes burn, but you can’t even squint them against the light. You can’t move a muscle. Can barely even breathe.

Violent, violet eyes are the first thing you notice. They’re sharp, and they bore into yours so deeply that something twists just barely inside of you. You can’t tell if it’s your own doing or his, since you’re trapped in his clutches. The lines of his face are even more beautiful, and if you weren’t struggling to breathe already, you sure are now.

His nose is straight, the perfect slope. His mouth is a thing of wonder, and you stare at it for a moment longer than you probably should. His face is set in perfect neutrality, giving nothing away.

Dark hair frames his temples in perfect whisps. If you weren’t trapped under his command, weren’t chained to a chair in his torture chamber, you might like to run your hands through it. Atop his head sits a gleaming onyx crown, each spoke inlaid with what you can only assume are rare and expensive gems.

His posture exudes royalty, as do his clothes. The sleeves of his button up shirt are rolled to his elbows, like he has plans other than slithering around in your mind to take a more hands-on approach to extract information from you. You’d willingly give it to him, have been giving it to the blue-stoned crony of his, who refused to believe the truth that spilled from your mouth.

Hopefully, the High Lord will believe you.

It's not looking like a good start.

Who are you? His voice has a hard edge to it that doesn’t sound right. Like he’s putting on a front for you. You’d imagine his tone to be regal and silky, not this gravely tone that still stirs something between your legs.

Wow. Trapped for days, on the verge of starvation, and tortured and bloody, but your cunt is alive and well.

The corner of his mouth twitches and your face flares red. You’d forgotten that he was still in your mind.

You stretch your jaw when he releases your muscles to do so. The fire you felt in his companion’s presence has eked from your body. The disuse of your limbs has drained all the fight from your body and replaced it with fear.

Well, fear and a little bit of arousal. What the fuck?

Your name, he commands again.

You speak it out loud, though you sound no louder than a mouse. Being in the presence of such power is intimidating. Thus far, the stories hold true. As you think this, something flashes in his violet eyes too quickly for you to catch. You furrow your brows in confusion, but your focus is pulled back to the matter at hand when the High Lord asks you another question.

Where do you hail from?

Ironhelm, you respond.

Ah. He knows of the territory vaguely, but has not been out to visit the newest camp himself. He remembers signing the papers to make Ironhelm its own camp, thought it was nothing but a good idea, which has him wondering why, if you come from a safe haven, that you’re sitting in a chair with cuts and bruises on your body.

Suddenly, something about all of this isn’t sitting right with the High Lord.

Ironhelm? He questions, and you nod, tiredly. Your body slumps in the chair as he releases you from his clutches. The High Lord steps forward as if to catch you, but the ropes around your torso keep you upright.

There’s a feeling of wrongness in his gut. Guilt. Remorse. Shame. With a snap of his fingers, your bindings are gone, as well as the dirt and grime from your time spent in this dungeon.

He can do nothing about your wounds, so he says, “I will have a healer come look at you when we’re finished here.”

His tone is much softer, you think that’s what shocks you the most. No, perhaps it’s the way that his entire demeanor has changed now that he knows where you come from. Those dangerous eyes soften, his shoulders ease.

Why the fuck didn’t his spy tell him where you were from? You distinctly remember repeating over and over while he took a blade to your skin your camp’s name.

“That’s it?” you all but hiss as you rub your tender wrists, rubbed raw from the ropes. “I tell you where I’m from and you release me?” You’d sound angrier, if you had the energy.

The High Lord steps closer and crouches to your level. You almost rear back in your chair with how close he is, close enough that you could lift your foot and touch him with your toes. He even more beautiful up close, and you shake your head of that particular distraction.

“You must forgive my shadowsinger and I,” he says softly, like he’s trying not to scare you away. “There have been an influx of spies crawling around my lands. Some are very well trained. We can’t be too cautious with what we believe.”

He’d have been here earlier if he could have but a meeting with the Winter Court kept him away. Azriel’s reports through the mind connection each night were vague enough to let Rhysand know that you weren’t talking, but that his spymaster would make sure you would soon.

You don’t know what to say to that, staring at the High Lord wearily. It’s not that you don’t believe him, but…no, wait, it’s exactly that you don’t believe him. Not after the shit you’ve gone through the past…however long you’ve been trapped down here.

“You don’t forgive me,” he murmurs, and fuck, you forgot that he can read exactly what you’re thinking. Like how you find that wrinkle that forms between his brows endearing. His violet eyes flicker to yours for a second, and there’s that feeling in your gut, like butterflies taking off, before he glances down at his folded hands, deep in thought.

“I’d like to forgive you, High Lord,” you say, but you’re not entirely sure that you mean it. He does look guilty for what has happened with you, but you think you’d prefer to deliver your message and get out of here as fast as possible, exhaustion and hunger be damned. “But your apology does not atone the horrors I bore in your care.”

He nods graciously. His knees hit the dirty, hard ground and the sight of him with a gleaming crown on his head, kneeling before you, ignites something within you. Your cunt throbs and your nipples tighten beneath your shift.

The High Lord inhales deeply, his chest moving with the motion. His entire display is so primal that it has your chest heaving in much the same way. The sorrow in his eyes sharpens again, this time into something much headier.

This time, when he speaks, his tone is deeper, gravellier. “I’d like to apologize again,” he says, inching closer. You should slam your thighs closed before he moves any closer, you really should, but he looks more than ready to beg for your forgiveness. You don’t get the chance to, anyway, because his palms are suddenly on your thighs, slowly dragging closer and closer to the apex of your thighs. “Try to make it up to you. If you’ll let me.”

Your body trembles beneath his searing touch. If your mouth wasn’t already a desert, it would most definitely be one now. Your fingers are wound around the arms of the chair like a vice, knuckles drained of all color.

You stare down at him between your legs. The gleaming crown on his head. His hands come to a halt at the juncture of your hips and thighs, thumbs close enough to brush over the seam of your trousers. You bite your lip, holding in the desperate noise that threatens to spill from your lips. You find that this is an apology that you’d very much like to see. To feel.

“Yes, High Lord,” you breathe.

“Rhysand,” he replies, sternly. Your cunts throbs at the demand.

“Yes, Rhysand,” you whisper. And in a single wave of his hand, your clothes are gone.

You gasp at the sudden shift in your attire. Your nipples tighten at the cool, damp air that washes over your body in a wave. Rhysand’s thumbs soothe you back into the chair, a soft hush has you leaning back and nervously spreading your legs wider.

Rhysand takes his fill, staring right at the beauty between your legs. He inhales the scent of you deeply, committing it to memory. Sweet, forgiving. He drinks it in like a drug.

He hooks his hands in the crook of your knees and tugs you to the edge of the chair. Eagerly, he helps you rearrange your legs over his shoulders, and then he sticks his face right into your cunt and ravages you.

“Oh,” you cry out, arching for him immediately. Rhysand licks a stripe from top to bottom before swirling it around your clit. Your thighs immediately try to close around his head at the feeling and he smiles into your cunt, before he continues eating ravenously.

Your fingers find his hair, slipping between the spires and into the silky strands, holding his face to your cunt. Your hips move, grinding into his face. You’re dripping and he’s eagerly lapping up your slick like a starved male. It’s too much, it’s too good, he’s too perfect.

Rhysand is skilled with his tongue in more ways than one. He licks, he twists, he sticks it as deep into your cunt as it will go, especially enjoying the deep cry of pleasure you let out when he begins to tongue-fuck you. He peeks up at you, wishing your head wasn’t thrown back over the back of the chair. He’d use his power to force your head up so that he can see if the pretty noises you’re making match the look on your face, but you’ve been through too much since arriving in his town, and he’s going to be making this up to you for however long he can convince you to stay.

His cock throbs in his pants. It aches to be unleashed, to find home in this perfect fucking cunt he’s devouring, but this moment is all about you. Once you cum on his tongue, he’s going to add his fingers, and once you cum on his fingers, he’s going to winnow the both of you to his bedroom where he’ll pamper you with his luxurious bath, with a hearty meal, and a bed so comfortable it won’t be possible to get inside of you tonight with how quickly you’ll fall asleep.

There’s this niggling in the back of his mind, urging him to take you, to take care of you. He doesn’t know what it is, but he likes it all the same, wants to listen to it.

Your body distracts him when it constricts, your cunt hugging his tongue as you near your edge. Your back arches at an impossible angle. Your hand flies to your breast, tweaking your nipple while the other stays buried deeply in Rhysand’s hair, though you have to do little to guide him.

He diverts his attention to your clit, suckling before trapping it between a soft bite and flicking his tongue up and down like he’s made for it. Your body threatens to collapse, but his hands clamp down on your legs as he moves impossibly quicker, driving you right over the edge.

You cum with a scream that echoes long after your voice gives out. You writhe, violently, riding out your blissful high. You’ve never felt anything quite like this, and it’s the best apology you’ve ever received in your life.

Rhysand’s movements slow, guiding you through your orgasm. Each sweep of his tongue sends aftershocks to your clit until you’re a whimpering mess and the hand in his hair is trying to shove him off. After one last fierce lick, one that shows you that he isn’t done with you yet, does he pull away.

This sight of the High Lord licking the taste of you off of his lips does something to you. Stirs up that feeling again, the one that feels like it’s been roused from a thousand-year slumber.

“Do you forgive me yet, darling?”

You pretend to think for a moment, biting your lip to smother the pleased smile you want to give. He’s still very much planted between your legs, pressing soft kisses to the insides of your thighs, looking much less like the menacing High Lord he was when he appeared in the darkness.

“No,” you answer, heart jumping at the challenge that fills his violet eyes. “I don’t think I forgive you, yet.”

“Then I’ll continue until you find it inside of yourself to do just that, darling,” he purrs, and sticks a finger inside of you.

#rhysand/reader #rhysand x reader #acotar #azsazz #acowar #acomaf #rhys/reader #rhysand acotar #rhysand angst #rhysand smut

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damthosefandoms · 18 days ago

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“Will you stop it?”

Darry’s temper is like a bruise you don’t remember how you got. Sodapop just can’t help but press down on it, just to see what happens. And every single time, like clockwork, the pain comes—and so does Darry’s anger.

Soda just has to tap his pencil against the table one more time, and he laughs a little as he does, a little laugh that Darry knows all too well. It drives him nuts. Their father calls it an “instigator giggle.” He says it runs in the family. Darry swears that he, personally, has never laughed like that in his entire life, but oh, oh does it get on his last nerve when he hears it come out of Soda’s mouth.

The grin, the laugh, and Darry reaches over and smacks his brother’s hand so hard the pencil goes flying. Soda screeches in some mix of amusement and pure, unadulterated fear, an indescribable feeling that only successfully annoying your older brother to the point he has no choice but to retaliate can bring, and then jumps up from the table like a dog who heard the word “walk.” He’s got a crazed look in his eyes, hiding behind his chair, and Darry gets up too—Soda laughs and takes a step back as Darry takes two forward, and then the little shit is bolting down the hall and Darry only doesn’t catch up to him because Ponyboy’s appeared in the doorway, complaining he’s missing all the funny stuff, again.

Soda hides behind his locked bedroom door and laughs so hard he cries. Dad comes home later and asks why Soda’s homework isn’t done, why everything’s still laid out on the kitchen table and why he nearly slipped on a pencil walking in the door. Darry’s up in arms and Soda’s giggling like a maniac and Pony whines they left him out again, and all is right in the world.

#darry curtis #ponyboy curtis #sodapop curtis #curtis brothers #the outsiders #the outsiders musical #the outsiders 1983 #curtis family #brothers of all time tbh #idk why i even wrote this i just did maybe it'll be part of a fic one day #soda & darry's brother dynamic is so important to me bc they've got about the age gap i have with my brother #pony i assume is just always underfoot #idk there's only two of us so i cant speak to that but #yeah #my post #julie writes stuff

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wosoragebaiter69 · 1 year ago

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you are broken on the floor

alexia putellas x keeper!reader

overview: goalkeeping means sacrificing your body, how far would you go?

A/N: i feel rlly sad so i got the discord to come up with ideas (thanks @totaly-obsessed + @alotofpockets)

TW: Blood, Severe Injury, Brutal Angst

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Ever since a child, you loved the feeling of saving footballs. If any of the teams you were on needed someone in goals you'd be the first the volunteer, along the way you actually got good at it and eventually signed with Barcelona in 2021, making good friends along the way.

Along with joining Barça, it came with getting a girlfriend. Who was the best person you'd ever had in your life romantically.

Being a keeper in the best club would always mean injuries, trying to keep a clean sheet like any defensive player wants.

Sometimes though, injuries are worse. Life threatening in some cases, career ending in others. It's something no player even wishes upon their most rivalled team.

You just had to be unlucky didn't you?

Barcelona were comfortably winning against Frankfurt 3-0, when a gap in defense allows a German player to make their strike. You fall back onto the line hoping the punch the ball away.

Seems like life has other plans.

The player shoots left, you dive left and push the ball away. However with being airborne, you can’t stop. Your body crashes into the post with a loud thud.

The stadium goes quiet, your screams and cries horrific. Your body looks… wrong.

Your collarbone isn’t straight, it’s indescribable. Bones are poking out. There’s blood running down your face where your head has cracked open after hitting the post.

It’s sickening to watch.

Players immediately rush over, forming a circle around you as to not show a fellow player in such vulnerable state.

Alexia is by your side trying to comfort you, trying to keep you still. Seeing you in this much pain makes her heart ache. If she could take it all, she would.

Paramedics are by your side instantly as the circle of players back up to give them space to work, Alexia sits helplessly watching you worm in pain.

After quick testing to make sure you were still alive and conscious, they get you on the stretcher. Which includes more screaming, and more pain.

Alexia watches as you get taken off the field in a hurry, fans of both teams clap and give you a standing ovation.

“Alexia, she’s strong. Let’s finish and win this game for her yeah?” Mapi pats her best friends back, also devastated at the turn on events.

“Ye- yeah.” The captains broken voice says.

- - - - -

As the rest of the minutes in the game are being played, you’re fighting for your life in the back of an ambulance.

The pain getting unbearable, you find yourself slowly slipping in and out of consciousness. Paramedics are doing things around you, but your eyes are too glossy to really tell. Your mind is also too fuzzy to think straight.

There is one thing you want, Ale. But, with everything? You wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve ruined some of your vocal cords from screaming so loud.

Soon enough, you succumb to the darkness. Letting it engulf you to a place less ridden in pain and chaos.

- - - - -

The game is over, an unspoken heaviness in the air surrounding both teams. There is little interaction with fans, whom luckily understand the pain the players must be feeling at the time.

Alexia, Mapi and Ingrid get in the Norwegian’s car and drive straight to the hospital where the medical team said you were going to.

When arriving, Ingrid drops Alexia and Mapi before parking, understanding they need each other. You were important to everyone, but Mapi was like your sister and Ale was obviously your girlfriend.

They rush inside, talking quickly to the nurse at reception who gives them sorry smiles, updating them all that she could. Which was that you were alive and in emergency surgery.

They don’t argue, it’s pointless. So they sit down on uncomfortable plastic chairs, playing a waiting game until you were coherent and safe.

- - - - -

4 hours and many freak out sessions later, a doctor walks over to the three girls explaining the situation you’re in.

“It’s a grade 2 concussion to her head, in cases like these there is chance for memory loss. I believe she has all her memory, we were talking about different things before I came here. It’s a high possibility that she has no memories from the accident though.” He pauses before continuing.

“She experienced a dislocated collarbone. We’ve put it back in its original place, recovery could take 1 year and she might never be to the level she was at currently again. We had to do work on surrounding ligaments which makes the recovery time longer.” The girls take in the information.

“Have you told her she won’t play for a while?” Ingrid asks the question on everyone’s mind.

“I did, she was upset in her own right. If that is all your questions, she has her own room. I believe you all know concussion protocol?” They nod.

“Ok, room 3146. If you need anything at all just shout.”

“Gracias, for everything you’ve done.” The doctor smiles at Alexia.

“No problem.”

- - - - -

When reaching the room, the 3 Barça players see your state, a gauze wrapped around your head and a large cast across your torso, restricting movement.

“Amor?” Alexia asks cautiously.

“Hi Ale.” You look at the other two. “Mapi, Ingrid, nice to see you.”

Alexia sits by the chair on the side of your bed, looking up with teary eyes.

“Please, please don’t ever do that again.” She sobs, cradling your face softly. “I can’t- I can’t lose you.”

“Ale, you’ve got me. I’m right here, please don’t cry amor. Por favor.” You look over to the other two in the room, smiling softly.

She takes a couple minutes to settle down and finally talk.

“Have you heard about your recovery?”

“Sí” You watch her sigh, tracing patterns over your hand.

“Lo siento, but I’ll be with you the whole way ok? I promise.” She says without an inch of hesitation in her voice.

“Te amo mucho Ale. That means so much more than you could ever know.” She responds by leaving a lingering kiss against your hand.

“I’m glad you’re ok. Had as all worried.” Ingrid smiles lightly.

“Yeah.. I don’t remember much about what happened. I might later on but for now I’m content without the memories.” She laughs.

“Well, all of the culers and people at Barça wish you a safe and great recovery. Even if the doctor hasn’t said it, you’ll come back stronger I know it.”

“Thanks Maps, I think I stay in the hospital for a few more days then I’m clear to go home. I have to wear this for like 6 weeks then start the strengthening physio whatever.”

“Ah, can’t wait to see you on the pitch again then amiga. Well, Ingrid and I will leave you and Ale to talk on your own. If you ever need funny company instead of serious company I am always here.” You hold onto your laugh smirking.

“Alright León, keep it moving.” You joke back and watch the couple leave.

You think back to what recovery is going to be like. A very long journey. It seems your girlfriend notices your thoughts.

“Shh, you’ll be fine and as Mapi said you’ll come back better.”

“Thanks Ale.” She leans over and presses a kiss to your lips softly.

- - - - -

The next few weeks are tough, you feel as though you’re useless. Alexia has all this stuff on her plate already and you’re just another one. However she is always quick to shut those thoughts down. No matter how moody, or how angry you got at her. She stayed, just like she promised she would.

Who knows what the future holds, maybe something, maybe nothing. What does matter though? Is who you go there with. For you it’s Ale. It will always be Alexia.

—————————————————————————

PART 2 - here

also i did say i was sick now i’m feeling better.. physically (not mentally since i just wrote this fic)

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #wlw #espwnt #espwnt x reader #ingrid engen #mapi leon

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mj0702 · 8 months ago

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The other Bronze – Pt. 20

“Keira... you okay?” Ingrid looks closely at her teammate who suddenly stopped eating.

They were out with the whole team in a small Restaurant in Barcelona – a get together if you liked. Ingrid noticed first that Keira stopped eating as she stared down at her phone and suddenly there were tears flowing. The Norwegian kept a close eye on the englishwoman seeing how much she missed young girl namely y/n Bronze.

It was unreal how you single handily turned the whole team spirit around in just a couple of weeks. Every single one of the blaugrana Team was a fan of you in some sort. Keira and Lucy obviously – they had the family connection. Alexia felt protective of you the second she laid eyes on you when you insulted that guy in the most filthy spanish someone could come up with – courtesy of her own girlfriend Mapí. For Mapí you were the little sister she never had – together with Pina and Patri the four of you meant indescribable trouble. Ingrid and Caro where a little more careful with you – both of them more on the calmer side they haven't had interacted with you much but what they saw made them see you in a different light. You were young, yes – but you also were determent and strong headed. Irene and Marta immediately adopted you guiding you a little from the background with gentle soft touches and encouraging words. Aitana was intimidated by you at first but the second you threw out catalan she wanted you near her all the time to see what else you could learn. Ona saw you as her girlfriends sister but also as a growing up young woman who needed her space and guidance at the same time. So it made everyones alarm bells scream seeing Keira cry. No one expected it to be happy tears.

Keira watched the video at least another four times before she handed her phone wordlessly to Lucy who looked at her confused

“Just watch it Lucy” the blonde sniffled smiling through her tears

“What am I watching?” your sister asked a little suspicious Ona already shuffling closer wanted to get a look as well

“For fuck sakes Bronze... just press play” Keira snapped at her ex who immediately pressed play with such a force she nearly threw the phone into the olives

It didn't even take two seconds for Lucy to realize what she's watching and she let the phone fall onto the table stunned

“It's not” Lucy looked at Keira shocked tears in her eyes

“What is going on??” now Mapí asked annoyed “... everyone is starting crying”

“Is everything okay?” Alexia asked getting a little concerned for her teammates

“Yeah... everything is better than okay” Keira smiled

“Then why is everyone crying?” Mapí asked confused

“Happy tears Maps... these are happy tears” Keira answered smiling

“Then why is everyone happy crying?” the tattooed girl asked getting even more confused

“Y/n picked up a ball... on her own” Lucy said her voice uncharacterically flat

“Lucy..” Keira immediately understood why your sister reacted that way

“... scuse me for a second.. I need some air” your sister already shoved her chair back nearly running out of the restaurant

“Go after her” Keira said to Ona “... she needs you now”

“What? Why? What happened” the young catalan asked confused

“Just... go” the blonde basically shoved Ona to go after Lucy who thankfully got the message and stumbled after her girlfriend

“Let's start where Ona left off... what happened?” Alexia asked and suddenly all the eyes were on Keira

“Georgia just send me a video of Bitsy playing with a football – on her own... she did upsies and tricks like she never stopped playing” Keira explained setting her phone up pressing play

Everyone looked mesmerized at the little screen – at you controlling the ball like no one they've ever seen

“This is...” Alexia was at loss for words “... I've never seen anything like this... ever”

“Told you the Nena is out of this world” Mapí announced proudly “Mi Nena”

“But... this is good right?” Ingrid asked looking at Keira

“It is...” the blonde nodded

“Then why is Lucy...” Caro asked looking at the restaurant door like Lucy would magically appear

“Three and a half years we waited for that... the amounts of fights we had because of it – because we weren't sure if we should give her a little push or not... you all saw what happened when Mapí caught her off guard...” the blonde started but got interrupted by Maps

“... I'm still very sorry” the tattooed woman said ashamed

“... it wasn't you fault Maps... but you all saw what happened.... and NOW... after three and a half years... she picks up a ball.. in Munich... at her girlfriends trainings ground...” Keira kept going

“Lucia is hurt” Alexia mumbled and Keira nodded

“But why? It's amazing that Nena plays again... Ale you have to talk to all them big people you know... we can't lose her to england... or worse... Madrid!!” Mapí said shocked her eyes wide

“María...” Ingrid started gently smiling a little “... lille venn can't play anymore remember?”

“But... she just did” the tattooed girl pointed at Keiras phone

“And neither Lucia nor Keira where there to experience it first hand” the norwegian said softly knowing her girlfriend didn't mean any harm she just... was slow sometimes.

“Oh... OH... that sucks... I'm sorry Keira” Mapí bursted out looking apologetic in Keiras direction

“It's okay Maps... I expected it to be honest... In Munich no one knows who she is...” the blonde said but Alexia, Ingrid, Irene and Marta didn't miss the hurt undertone in their teammates voice

“Can we do anything to help Luce?” the tattooed spaniard asked

“No... she needs to work through it on her own” the blonde shook her head

“Then why did you send Ona after her?” Ingrid wondered

“She's complex.. she needs to work on it on her own but at the same time she needs someone there... someone who she trust... who she can break in front” Keira said “... so... dessert anyone?”

And with this the topic of you picking up a ball was history. At least inside – outside was a different story

“Amor” Ona carefully tried to approach Lucy carefully

“No... I need... I need space... I need to breath” your sister said upset roaming the pavement in front of the restaurant

“Okay... I'll be just here if you need me” the young catalan said calmly pointing to one of the window sills sitting down on it

Lucy roamed for another 10 minutes before she suddenly stopped looking at Ona

“Three and a half years...” your sister blurted out “... three and a half years... I waited three and a half years...” before she started roaming again

Ona just kept quiet waited for her girlfriend to continue to rant and get it off her chest

“... and she has the AUDACITY to pick up a ball in Munich... MUNICH!!!” Lucy ranted angrily “... In front of Georgia Stanway!!”

“Lucy..” Ona said softly

“I was there... every step of the way... I held her when she had nightmares... I picked her up when she did more than her knees could handle and she fell.. I cooked for her even tho she never eaten more than a spoon full... I drove her to rehab sessions and picked her up... I took her to camp with me because I was scared she'd do something stupid if I leave her alone... where was Georgia all the time?” your sister just kept talking “... she was no where to be seen... and now she gets to be there when y/n decides to pick up a ball again... she gets to witness something Keira and I worked for three and a half years?”

“Lucy... amor” Ona tried again keeping her voice soft and calm

“She doesn't DESERVE it to witness that!!” Lucy exploded and Ona knew now was the time to interfere

“Amor... mi vida” the young catalan said her voice low as she pushed herself off the window sill going over to her girlfriend and just pulled Lucy into a hug

Just as she expected Lucy broke down crying the second she felt the arms of her girlfriend tighten around her shoulders

“It's just...” Lucy cried into Onas neck pulling her even closer

“I know... “ the catalan said softly “... but it looked like she didn't know Georgia was there”

“But why does G get to witness that? Why wasn't I there?” your sister hick-upped “I should've been there...”

“I don't think Georgia was meant to witness that...” Ona said her heart breaking a little bit when she heard her girlfriend crying into her shirt

“But she did” Lucy cried not knowing how to deal with the situation “She got to see it”

“Let us go home okay... lets just get some rest” the catalan whispered already pulling out her phone to text Alexia

“We can't... the team” your sister pulled back a little bit trying to contain her tears and sadness

“They'll understand...” Ona said softly “... let me just text Ale... they can take our stuff to and bring it to training tomorrow”

“Thank you” Lucy mumbled holding onto her girlfriend for dear life

Back in Munich you didn't have a clue of your sister breakdown – you were laying happily on your girlfriends couch. Maybe a little too happy.

“Baby... are you okay?” Georgia asked raising her eyebrow at you where you laid on top of her your head on her chest

“Sí” you giggled “muy bien... todo bien”

“Okay...” your girlfriend looked at you confused “... care to switch back to english?”

“No parlo anglès” you giggled pushing your nose against her chest

“Oh fuck me...” Georgia sighed out “... ehrm... wait... who do I know who speaks english AND spanish....”

“El castellà és una llengua bonica...i dones boniques” you giggled

“Tainara” your girlfriend suddenly exclaimed angling for her phone from the side table calling her teammate while you continued to giggle into her chest

“Yeah George?” Tainara answered the phone after the second ring

“Sorry to call you this late... but my... friend... something is not okay with her and she speaks something language I don't understand and... can you help?” Georgia rambled

“Sure... put her on.. I try to help” Gs teammate answered

“y/n... my teammate wants to talk to you” your girlfriend pushed her phone into your face for you to take it

“Hola... qui ets?” you asked wondering

“Oooookay... give me back to Georgia please... you understand english right?” Tainara said

“Sí...” you giggled handing the phone back to your girlfriend

“Yeah?” Georgia asked carefully

“That's spanish you muppet” the Brazilian woman said flatly

“And?” your girlfriend asked confused

“I'm from Brazil” her teammate exclaimed

“Again... and?” Georgia didn't understand what the problem was

“I don't speak spanish... I speak Portuguese” Tainara said a little offended

“Okay look... it kinda sounds the same to me” your girlfriend said ashamed “... so you can't help me?”

“No you asshat... and you owe me a big ass lunch for saying spanish and Portuguese sound the same” Tainara grumbled “... Ana is Colombian... they speak spanish”

“Thank you... god bless your Portuguese soul” Georgia sighed in relieve as she was about to hang up

“I'M FROM BRAZIL!!” you heard yelling from the phone as the call disconnected which caused a new round of giggles

“Hang in there Baby... I'm getting help” your girlfriend mumbled holding you closer to her calling another number

“Yeh?” a tired voice answered after some rings

“Ana? That you?” Georgia asked a little desperate

“Yes? You called me.. G.. if you interrupted my nap by accident” Ana said getting fed up already

“No no... my... friend... she speaks spanish even tho she doesn't speak spanish... I already called Tainara but she couldn't help... and I need help to understand her” your girlfriend rambled again

“Ay dios...” you heard from the phone and it made you perk up

“Uh... I think she understood that... here... talk to her and find out what's going on” Georgia immediately catched on your change of behaviour and once again pressed the phone into your hand

“Hola?” you asked giggling

“Hola chica... cómo estás?” Georgias teammate asked you

“Soy buena y tu?” you giggled

“Bien gracias... Entoces qué te pasa?” Ana asked trying to figure out what's wrong with you

“res per què?” you answered confused

“Puedes devlverme a G por favor?” the Colombian asked

“Sí cap problema” you smiled even tho Ana couldn't see it handing the phone back to your girlfriend

“And?” Georgia asked hopefully

“Yeah I can't help you...” her teammate said nonchalantly

“Why?? She speaks spanish.. you speak spanish... bam... help me” your girlfriend said lost

“I would help if that WAS spanish... that's catalan... I can understand bits of accents away from other spanish but catalan? no... sorry...” Ana said apologetic

“Ugh... fuck meeee...” Georgia whined “... you have any idea who I could call? I just want to know what's going on?”

“Ehrm... my best guess... someone from Catalonia?” the Colombian offered and started to chuckle

“Great help....” your girlfriend said flatly “... I don't know anyone from there”

“Isn't your best friend from Barcelona?” Ana mused

“KEIRA!!! YES!!!” Georgia exclaimed suddenly sitting up quickly which resulted in you getting squished into her torso “You're a godsend Ana... see you tomorrow... good nap!!”

Georgia quickly hung up the call immediately dialling Keiras number waiting nervously for her best friend to pick up

“Hey G...” Keira finally answered and Georgia could hear laughter and voices in the background

“Keiraaaaaa.... heeeeey...” your girlfriend greeted Keira sounding like a maniac

“Oh god... what happened? Is Bitsy okay? Are you okay? Are you both okay?” Keira immediately knew something was off her mind already painting the most worrying pictures

“Yeah yeah we're good... kinda” Georgia said quickly

“Kinda?” her best friend repeated confused

“Yeah you see... we're here... in Munich... on me couch...” your girlfriend started feeling you giggle against her stomach

“I hope for your sakes that you really are” Keira growled her alarm bells screaming “God save the King”

“We are... but... something is not right with y/n... she's all... giggle-y... and...” Georgia confessed embarrassed

“Aaaaand?” her best friend asked her patience low

“ShespeakingspanishandIdon'tunderstandherhelp” your girlfriend mumbled quickly

“Again?” Keira asked confused not knowing if she heard correctly

“For some reason she's speaking spanish and I don't... so... help? Please?” Georgias voice was high

“Why is she speaking spanish?” Keira asked confused

“I don't know... she just started speaking spanish out of nowhere and I tried to solve the problem by asking me teammates but apparently Portuguese is not spanish and even the one who apparently speaks spanish didn't understand spanish... useless the lot of them I tell ya” your girlfriend huffed “... so... help?”

“Oh god... why... why did you two find each other... I'm 27... I'm having GREY hair G... GREY!!!” Keira exclaimed upset

“It's not like anyone would notice between them ginger ones” Georgia shrugged her shoulders

“Georgia Marie Stanway!” her best friend scolded her “... ugh... just get Bitsy on the phone”

“Hey Baby... Keira...” and for a third time that night the phone was shoved in your face

“Sí?” you tried your hardest to sound as normal as possible knowing Keira would catch on and then you were in trouble

“Hey Bitsy... you alright?” Keira cooed sweetly

“Estic perfectamente bé... per què?” you answered honestly and a small snort made it out

“Oh dear jesus lord in heaven” you heard Keira huff “Alexia... mind doing me a favor?”

“What's the matter?” you heard the Barca capitana asked

“Here... your Cariño is on some kind of drug and now she speaks catalan... you are catalan... fix it...” Keira said as she passed the phone to her friend

“Holi Cariño?!” Alexia said a little confusion in her voice

You only squeaked before you threw the phone across the room – even in your current state you knew you were in SO much trouble if Alexia gets involved

“Hey... don't throw me phone!” Georgia exclaimed shocked

“Ho sento” you mumbled trying to push your face deeper into Georgias body hiding from the world

“Baby.... I don't understand you... I just want to help” your girlfriend begged you “... let me go so I can go get me phone?”

“No” you whined holding tighter onto Georgia

“Baby... please” G tried to pry your arms off her “... me phone”

“No necessities el teu phone” you mumbled but your grip loosened a little bit which Georgia used to pushed herself out under you quickly walking to pick up her phone

“Keira?” she asked hoping her friend didn't hung up

“No... Alexia” the other person answered

“Jesus fuck” Georgia sweared throwing her phone a little further away before running after it picking the phone up again “... ehrm... sorry... that was... quiet the surprise... big fan”

“Georgia sí?” Alexia asked trying to keep a clear head

“Yes... that's me” your girlfriend nodded even tho nobody could see it

“Okay... what's wrong with mi Cariño?” the spaniard asked still trying to figure out what is happening

“You mean y/n?” Georgia asked confused

“Yes... y/n... Bronze... the small Bronze” Alexia answered losing her patience already

“I... don't know... we were laying on the couch doing.... nothing.. and she started giggling and speaking spanish... I don't speak spanish... she doesn't speak spanish... so I need help... please” your girlfriend explained once again

“Okay... I can work with that... put me on speaker” the Barca capitana instructed

“Okay... sure... ehrm... wait...” Georgia said before pushing the speaker button “... you're on speaker, Miss Putellas”

“Hola Cariño” Ale said ignoring Georgias rambling

“Ale... Com estás?” you giggled

“Estic bé i tu?” the spaniard asked hearing you speaking catalan surprising her

“Sóc genial” you exclaimed happily

“Per què parles català?” Alexia smiled to herself

“Perquè puc” you grinned proudly “Digues bonmatí”

“Ah, doncs li hauria de dir a l'Aitana?” the blonde spaniard chuckled “... per què hauria de fer això”

“Aitana estarà orgullosa” you said wholeheartly

“Oh but I'm proud of you too....” Alexia said softly “... so tell me mi Cariño... why are you speaking catalan?”

“Ona taught me” you said like it was the most obvious thing on the world

“Ona?” the spaniard asked completely at loss

“Yes... the friendly spaniard” you nodded quickly

“And we're back with the nicknames” Alexia sighed “... want to tell me about your day Cariño?”

“Uh... didn't do anything special.. we had breakfast... VERY good Avo-toast... you spaniards could learn to make Avo-toasts... it's not that hard you know... it's avow.. and toast...” you started to recap your day getting distracted

“Cari.... after breakfast” Alexia stressed

“... oh yeah... we went to this garden... not the bad one where I'm not allowed to go anymore... the nice garden... babe... what's the nice garden called” you got distracted again

“... Englischer Garten... english garden” your girlfriend provided thankful you're speaking english again

“That one... you should come visit pretty spaniard” you giggled “... they have beautiful trees... cherry trees... and this little tent-thingy”

“Cari... focus” the blonde spaniard pressed

“uh... then we went for lunch... just a small one... I had....” you looked at Georgia for help again

“Wurstsalat” Georgia threw in

“... that... it's like sliced sausage with vinegar and onions and pickles and it's really good... oh and you eat it with bread” you giggled again

“Cariño por favor..” the Barca woman groaned

“... then we went home for a nap... and G overslept so we didn't have time for coffee because we had to take public transport to training... G lost her license you know – she drove like a cunt and got a nice picture of it... expensive picture” you just kept talking ignoring Alexias groaning and Georgias shocked face “... we made it to training and they had just a light session I got a bit bored and fell asleep... after training we went home and I cooked...”

“What did you cook Cari?” Alexia perked up

“Penne all'Amatriciana.... it's pasta with beef... or... vedella” you said proudly

“Hm... sounds delicious... how did you prepare the beef Cariño?” the spaniard suspected something specific

“You need to season the filet beforehand... just salt and a little bit of pepper” you started to explain happily and Alexia let you talk “... heat the frying pan to basically volcano and then throw the filet in there... fry fry fry... and than deglaze it with a good dash of red....”

“Red?” Alexia and Georgia asked at the same time

“Yes... don't worry... the alcohol goes all poof with the heat of the pan... no alcohol left in the meat... but it gives it some amazing flavour...” you waved off “... then you throw in the cooked pasta, some fresh tomatoes, basil and parmesan”

“Red wine?” the blonde spaniard clarified

“Sí” you said again

“I don't even have red wine in me flat” your girlfriend exclaimed shocked

“Stole it from Lucy.. she has a whole ass wine rack she didn't even noticed I packed it... got it through camp as well” you answered proudly

“Ay dios mio” you heard Alexia through the phone “Cariño... did you have a sip from the wine?”

“Maaaaaaybe a little” you sing songed

“Ay dios” the spaniard huffed out “how many sips did you have Cari?”

“Just a few” you grinned

“Georgia... look for that bottle” Alexia instructed and immediately sprinted into the kitchen “Cari... why did you take the red wine form Lucia”

“She doesn't need it... she didn't even know what she had there... it was a Vega Sicilia” you said getting upset

“That's a very good wine” the spaniard mused trying to keep you calm “... you have good taste Cari”

“Bottle is half empty” Georgia panted coming sprinting back in “you drank half a bottle of wine?”

“Nooooo...” you giggled “... I put some in the pan too... like... two dashes”

“Oh god...” your girlfriend whined “Miss Putellas...”

“You can call her pretty spaniard... she doesn't care” you interrupted grinning

“Please don't” Alexia exclaimed “Alexia is just fine”

“Please don't tell Keira y/n is drunk... I swore I look after her” Georgia begged

“I'm not drunk” you said seriously

“Cari... you are drunk... but some sleep will fix this, hm?” the blonde hummed

“But I'm not tired” you said confused

“Oh but you are... you told me” Alexia lied hoping you would fall for it

“Oooooh yeah... true... baby I'm tired... I'm going to bed okay” you nodded seriously tossing the phone at your girlfriend swaying in the general direction of the bedroom

“What... where.. huh?” your girlfriend watched as you made it through the open door face planting onto the bed

“You're welcome” Alexia said before she hung up

“Crazy... all of them are crazy” Georgia shook her head

“Ugh” you groaned next morning when you felt Georgias fingertips dance across your ribcage

“Morning drunky” your girlfriend chuckled behind you nuzzling into the back of your neck

“Not drunky” you mumbled closing your eyes again protecting them from the far to bright light in the room

“Oh you so were drunk” Georgia chuckled pressing a soft kiss to your neck

“Was not” you groaned again

“You spoke catalan” your girlfriend pointed out and THAT made you shoot up into a sitting position – which turned out not to be a good idea since you immediately got hit with nausea and headache.

“How do you know I spoke catalan... I don't even speak catalan” you looked at Georgia panicked

“Oh but you do... you had a whole ass conversation with Alexia Putellas...” your girlfriend said as she laid on her back her arms stretched above her head

“Alexia??” you screeched

“Look... I got worried... you were all giggly and strange and you spoke a language I didn't understand... I asked me teammates for help but even they couldn't help... so I called Keira..” your girlfriend explained

“Keira??” you screeched even higher

“Yeah... she couldn't help so she put Alexia on the phone.. she helped...” Georgia shrugged her shoulders sitting up now “... she even got you to go to bed”

“Oh fuck me G... that's bad... so SO bad” you whined

“Why... you had a little wine... geez when I was your age I literally tubed beer” your girlfriend said trying to calm you down

“Do you realize what Ale will do with me once I'm back in Barc... I'm simply never going back to Barcelona... easy...” you started to whine before you just had THE idea

“Yeah well... I don't think Lucy will let that happen” Georgia scratched the back of her neck embarrassed

“We just ignore her...” you looked pleadingly at the blonde

“I still have to play with her in the national team... and you have to go to camps too now since you signed a contract” your girlfriend pointed out killing your plan with her stupid logic

“Ah fuck” you groaned and let yourself fall backwards onto the bed again

“Baby.... it's not that bad....” Georgia tried again

“You wanna tell Lucy I got drunk on red wine?” you raised your eyebrow in challenge

“We just pay Keira and Alexia to never ever breath a word of that” your girlfriend quickly said seeing what you meant

“Mhm... thought so” you mumbled

“Okay... I have training this morning and fitness in the afternoon... you wanna join or stay here?” Georgia looked down at you

“I want to die.... that headache is going to kill me” you whined which made G chuckle

“I'll get you some water and paracetamol” your girlfriend said before pressing a kiss to your head and stood up

“And a bagel... I want a bagel... with bacon....” you yelled after her

When Georgia returned with the bottle of water and two pills you were dead asleep again

“Guess you won't join training then” the blonde mumbled smiling walking towards the bathroom to take her shower and get herself ready for the day

You woke up two hours later to a quiet flat. You groaned again rolling over to your other side seeing the water bottle and the pills laying on your nightstand.

“Every time I think I can't fall more for her she pulls some shit and I fall even harder” you mumble to yourself swallowing the pills with a large gulp of water

“Ugh... I hate pills” you shuddered but made it slowly out of bed dragging yourself into the kitchen where you found a post it on the coffeemashine and one on the fridge

“Press “an”... who the fuck is Ann?” you read loudly looking at the coffeemashine like it offended your whole family

“... oh... there... button... an...” you pressed the button and the machine started to come to life “.... oh cool...” you shrugged your shoulders

“... when all the lights are on... press “Kaffee”...” you read again looking for the right button

“uh... that thing can make Cappuccino” you said excited pressing on that button instead of Kaffee

The machine started to grind the beans – which did wonders for your headache – but THEN it made weird noises. Like it was dying.

“Oooooh no no no no no” you said in panic “... stop dying.... just coffee... you already started the coffee... just... put it in the cup... here... it's a nice cup... look... it's from here actually... it's a Bayern Munich cup... you like Munich right... you live here”

You spoke to the coffeemaker like it would actually answer you but it continued to make weird sounds so you decided to try a different approach

“If I now press Kaffee... will you stop dying... please?” you looked at the machine pleadingly before hitting the coffee button over and over again

“Please... stop dying... G will kill me if I kill you” you said desperately but it was no use

“Okay... we gonna approach that rationally... you had a good life... I'm gonna pull the plug now” you said and pulled the cable out of the socket with closed eyes – immediately the machine stopped “dying” and you sighed in relieve

“Okay... so no to coffee... new plan... get a shower... get ready... go coffee” you mumbled to yourself already leaving the kitchen for the bathroom

30 minutes later you checked your pockets if you have everything before pulling the door shut going down the stairs and step outside into the beautiful Munich sunshine. You had no clue where you were or where you needed to go so you just played eene meeny mooh and then turned right to follow the street. On the next occasion you turned right following an important looking sign hoping for some sightseeing. Again you followed the sign on the next traffic light as it pointed to the left. You took some pictures on your phone on the way being absolutely mesmerized by the buildings you passed in awe. You followed the road for some time until you discovered the next sign telling you to go left and suddenly you stood in front of a big building... with a lot of cars inside. It dawned on you - you just followed a Carpark sign. You were very disappointed at this point. So you decided to walk along the carpark building until you were back on a bigger road. You totally winged this Munich tour.

You followed the bigger road until you spotted a group of Asian people who looked like they were getting a city tour with a guide. So you decided to just go with that group since the guide apparently knew what she was doing. After some short stops at some buildings you were absolutely not interested in you found yourself at a place you reconized from being here with Georgia before – the Viktualienmarkt. It was a beautiful big market place where you could basically get everything. Fresh fruit and vegetables. Honey and Bee products. Wine (slight heave) and Beer. Good food. Nice people. Everything in one place. That also was the moment you realized you had no money on you. Which sucked big time since you got quite hungry with your exploring. You pulled out your phone to see five missed calls. When you pulled them calls up you saw two from your girlfriend, one from Keira, one from Lucy and one from an unknown number. So you decided to call your girlfriend back first and to your surprise she answered after the second ring. Which was VERY unusual for Georgia since you normally needed four tries to get her on the phone

“Baby.. where are you... I came home half an hour ago with you gone... are you okay?” your girlfriend spoke quickly and her voice showing her increased stress level

“I'm alright... I'm at the big market place...” you said confused

“Big market pla... love... where the fuck are you?” Georgia said even more confused that you were

“You know... where you took me when I visited the first time... where you can buy all that bee stuff in that little corner shop on the market” you tried to explain since you didn't want to make a fool out of yourself for pronouncing the places name wrong

“I have NO idea where you are... wait... look for someone nice and let me talk to them” your girlfriend tried so hard to figure out were you where

“Okay... wait” you looked around until you spotted someone familiar – it was the nice waitress from the breakfast place G took you to yesterday so you approached her carefully

“Ehrm... excuse me?” you lightly tapped her shoulder

“Ja?” the nice blonde turned around “Oh hi... I remember you... you had the two avocado toasts yesterday with your friends”

“Actually just one... the other one my friend ate before I could grab a bite... that bottomless bitch...” you said still a sore topic for you “... I... need help... could you please help...?”

“Dinara...” the woman offered smiling friendly “... and of course – what's the problem”

“I... got... kinda lost?” you said embarrassed holding your phone up “... me.. friend is on the phone but she's too thick to figure out where I am so can you please tell her..?”

“Oh my god of course” Dinara laughed as she took your phone “Hi? So your friend is at Viktualienmarkt just opposite Chicos Saftbar... at the golden chicken”

“Oh god thank you so much” you heard the relieved sigh of your girlfriend through your phone “I know you probably have better things to do but... could you maybe keep an eye on her... or chain her to one of the lampposts so she can't run off again? Either way is fine”

“Excuse me??” you exclaimed upset “... tying me to a post?? The fuck you think you are – you ain't Luce”

“Depends on how long you need to get here...” the blonde woman said amused at your outburst

“Half an hour max... I'm already on me way” Georgia said panting as she was jogging down the street to the next tramway

“Yeah I can do that... I'll take her to Café Schmalznudel” the nice helpfully blonde said still grinning at your behaviour since you retreated to grumble to yourself about getting tied up to a post

“Thank you so SO much” your girlfriend said as she got onto the tramway towards the city centre

“No problem...” Dinara smiled as she tugged on your sleeve so you would follow her “... I know how it is to get lost in Munich”

“Where we going? I'll have you know I have a lots of friends who will come looking for you if you murder me” you said but still walked after the blonde

“I was about to get you some coffee and some delicious pastry but since you accused me of being a murderer you can sit and watch me eat and have my coffee” the blonde said sweetly

“That's literally letting me starve... I didn't get coffee this morning because me gi... friend... friend decided to get a coffeemaker you need a fucking PhD for and then I got lost...” you deadpanned as the blonde woman shoved you into a small shop where it smelled deliciously

“Are you always this dark and twisted sarcastic?” Dinara asked interested

“Yes... got it from... I wanted to say my family but they're not like me... in terms of fun... they're all very humourless.. except for me sister... she has her moments... they're rare but she has them” you mused “... she's trying”

“Okay...” the blonde laughed “... what do you want... I recommend the Dampfnudel” she said as she pointed to one of the trays

“What's that?” you looked interested

“It's a yeast dough with a plum marmalade filling... very tasty” D explained “... or there we have Auszogne...”

“Uh.. I had that before... they're amazing” you looked at the pastry your mouth watering “I want them all”

“You literally will puke if you eat everything... so let's settle for one and you can come back with your friend another time” the blonde said

“Gibberish gibberish dare” you looked at her straight in the eye grumbling

“What?” the young woman looked at you confused

“It's... Swedish? Danish? Cold countryish for “you're mean”...” you said huffing a little

“Have it your way... I'm going to order now” the blonde shrugged her shoulders turning around to the guy behind the counter starting to order

“I take that yeast thingy” you interrupted from behind her

“Und eine Dampfnudel mit... what coffee?” the woman said half turning to you

“Do you guys know what a cappuccino is?” you asked carefully

“We're a European country and closer to Italy than the UK... yes we know what a cappuccino is” the woman said rolling her eyes “... und einen Cappuccino bitte”

20 minutes later your girlfriend bursted through the front door looking around panicked before she spotted you speed walking over

“What the hell were you thinking???” your girlfriend said panting

“I was thinking about getting a coffee” you looked at her confused

“I... I.. what?” Georgia looked at you in disbelieve “... coffee?”

“Yes... you know... that black liquid that brings you back to life” you chewed on your pastry as you heard your new friend snort beside you

“I have a perfectly fine coffeemaker at home” your girlfriend exclaimed

“Had... I think it dead” you looked at her innocently and G couldn't do anything than look at you flabbergasted

“So... as lovely as this interaction was... I need to get to work” Dinara suddenly exclaimed and stood up

“What do I owe you... wait... you paid for her stuff right?” Georgia started to ramble and rummaged through her pockets “... here... 50 Euros.... 10 for the food the rest for having to deal with her”

“No needs... she is a delight once she's fed and caffeinated” the blonde waitress laughed and pushed Georgias hand back denying the money

“No really... I can't thank you enough... god knows where she would've ended up” your girlfriend tried to give Dinara the money again

“It's okay... just... put one past Coll for the girls who look up to you” Dinara smiled winked and pushed past Georgia leaving the small place leaving Georgia behind looking confused

“You think she'll come back for the rest of her pastry?” you quipped up behind your girlfriend eyeing the piece interested

“Honestly Baby... what where you thinking? You don't know the City, you don't know the language you didn't even knew where you were” Georgia whisper yelled after she sat down opposite to you

“Look... you were gone when I woke up... I tried to make coffee the machine died... yes, I don't know the city or where I was... but I'm not five... and for the language barrier.. you don't speak german either” you said back your voice low “... you won't believe it Georgia Stanway but people speak english and I found out pretty quickly that the people here are actually pretty helpful if you just ask nicely and be polite”

“I know that... I got scared okay... I know you're not five... but I came home and you were gone and you didn't answer your phone...” your girlfriend said calmly and you saw how she tried to keep herself calm too

“I didn't hear it because it was on silent” you sneered back “What is the big deal?”

“The big deal is that I started to call hospitals because I thought someone knocked you out” Georgia said and you saw how she lost her patience

“G... I can look out for myself.. did it for years” you snapped at her

“Let's go home okay... we can talk about it but we're in public” your girlfriend sighed

But you wouldn't be a Bronze if you wouldn't have the treat of stubbornness

“YOU can go home... I'll use the credit card I stole from Lucy and buy myself a flight to....” you stopped thinking a second “... Manchester”

“Baby please...” Georgia pleaded trying to take your hand but you pulled it away

“No...” you sneered “... don't touch me”

“I won't let you run... and if you run I'll follow you” your girlfriend said her voice low “I can't let you run.. I love you”

Your head snapped up and you looked at her shocked

“You... never said that” you whispered out

“I love you... I got so so scared when I got home...” Georgia said carefully taking your hand and this time you let her “... I told you before I can't and don't want to imagine a world without you... so when you were gone I panicked”

“I'm sorry...” you mumbled “... but honestly it's your coffeemakers fault”

“You pressed another button didn't you” your girlfriend smirked

“It offered cappuccino” you defended yourself

“It can also make cappuccino... if you fill up the milk tank” Georgia said grinning

“I love you too” you mumbled as you let your girlfriend pull you out of the chair

“I know... if you didn't you would be at the airport already” Georgia pulled you into her side pressing a subtle kiss to your temple

“Baby??” you heard your girlfriend call from the kitchen

“Yeah?” you yelled back from the spot on the couch

“Pernille asked if we want to join them for dinner tonight?” Georgia said as she leans against the doorframe of the living room

“Yeah why not...” you said distracted “... what the hell am I watching? There are naked people.. it's freaking daytime”

“Would you be able to whip up a desert? I hate coming empty handed and wine isn't an option this time” your girlfriend asked already texting her teammate back “And what are you watching?”

“How the fuck should I know... I understand fuck all” you exclaimed pointing at the TV with the remote control in your hand

“Oh god... you found the trash TV channel...” Georgia groaned after she threw a quick look at the screen

“That isn't normal trash... that... offensive trash” you exclaimed watching how two police officers start a yelling match with two naked people “What they yelling about?”

“Erregung öffentlichen Ärgernisses...” your girlfriend said distracted still on the phone texting Pernille “... public outrage”

“Yeah I bet... I would be outraged if I see naked people buying a newspaper in broad daylight” you snorted and kept watching how the police officers tried to reason with the nakeys

“Didn't Ella and you once walked naked into Old Trafford?” Georgia asked looking at you expectantly

“THAT was a dare...” you pointed out tilting your head trying to make sense out of the scene that was displayed on screen

“Baby... about that desert” your girlfriend asked again

“Yes I'll whip something up” you said absent still not believing what you see on TV

“Thank you” Georgia pressed a kiss to your head as she walked passed “... I advice to change the show.. it's not getting better”

“It's kinda fascinating....” you said in awe

“No it's not.. it's trash TV” your girlfriend snorted as she started to pack for her afternoon fitness session “You're going to join in?”

“I'll join... but not in” you grinned “Just let me look how long the thingy takes I want to make for the wine replacement”

“I can bring wine... but you won't having any” Georgia grinned as she threw a second kit into her bag knowing fully well you're gonna join in at some point

“I would need about two hours... do we have that much time?” you looked up from your phone where you googled the receipt

“Sure... training ends around 5... I can get you an Uber so you can go home earlier and get a head start” your girlfriend shrugged her shoulders

“You won't let me use public right?” you asked hopefully

“Yeah no... even I get lost sometimes with all them trains and tramways and undergrounds and busses...” Georgia shook her head

“Can someone else drive me? Uber is always so awkward” you whined

“You can ask Alex... he should still be in doing... whatever managers do in their offices... maybe he can drive you” your girlfriend offered

“Sounds good” you grinned knowing exactly how you would get the Trainer to agree driving you back to Georgias apartment

Georgia was right of course. As soon as you walked into the locker room Jill pounced on you talking your ear off while making you promise you would join in the gym. You tried to get out of it by saying you didn't have anything gym appropriate as you get hit in the face by a shirt and some short. Your girlfriend grinned widely at you as you shot her a dirty look which made most of the team laugh. So you changed into the kit Georgia threw at you which resulted in G looking smug and Magda rolling her eyes

“What?” you grumbled at the swede

“Wearing her number? Want to make it anymore obvious?” Magda said her voice low

“She my friend and the only Lioness here... as well as the best friend of one of the women who raised me AND a good friend of my sister...” you answered automatically

“Knew that speech by heart do you?” the blonde swede grinned

“You know how often I had to say that to the newbies at Camp?” you rolled your eyes as you pulled some shoes on “... dear jesus... whose shoes are that?”

“Your... friends” Magda chuckled emphasizing the “friend”

“Bitch...” you grumbled before looking up at the swede “... what's your shoe size?”

“Ehrm... 40” the swede answered

“What's that in UK size?” you looked confused

“7” Pernille answered as she walked past have followed your conversation with half an ear

“Why do you guys have such hobbit feet?” you groaned looking around “Anyone shoes in 8.5?”

You were met with stunned silence. You looked for help at Pernille who looked at her teammates

“42/43 anyone?” the Danish asked into the round but was met with just head shakes “Sorry Søde... looks like you have to go barefoot”

“Barefoot my ass” you grumbled as you walked out of the room and straight into the managers office “Alex... what's your shoe size”

“Ehrm... 43” the norwegian Trainer answered bewildered

“Perfect... give me your shoes” you demanded and pointed at his NIKE Free Metcon5

“Excuse me?” the brown haired man looked at you

“You're players are annoying and now I have to go to the gym with them but they all have mini feet and I don't... so I need shoes... you have me size.. so give me your shoes” you explained

“What's the magic word?” the Norwegian grinned

“Please” you rolled your eyes annoyed

“See... not so hard...” he grinned as he threw his shoes over to you “oh by the way... Ingrid Engen says hi... you better not tell us Barca secrets or she sees herself in the position of taking actions against you you won't like”

“Pff.... Princess Norwegian is far to nice to do something...” you waved off as you pulled the shoes on

“Engen? Probably.... Graham-Hansen on the other side... wouldn't want to piss her off” the man smirked

“You know... if you want me to help you poke Barcas ego... you're not doing a good job in convincing me” you said tilting your head

“I want to win” the Norwegian said confident

“Against Barca?” you laughed out in disbelieve

“Yes...” he nodded curtly

“You know I'm not a bullshitter.... and you have a good team... but defeating Barca? They will have to have a REALLY bad day...” you said honestly tying the laces “... they have everything... Forwards who are constantly on fire... a blazing midfield... and don't get me started on the backline”

“You got the Lionesses to win against Spain” the man pointed out as he leaned back in his chair his white socks shining under his table

“And I have a contract with the Lionesses... I can't help you... officially” you said smirking slightly “... but if I by pure accident write down some plays and weak Barca links and lose them and you find them by chance...”

“Coincidence” the Norwegian shrugged smirking as well

“Pure accident....” you grinned “... I'll have it ready by tomorrow evening for losing it”

“I really have to keep hold of Stanway don't I?” the man laughed

“For as long as she's happy here...” you shrugged your shoulders before turning around leaving the office

“There she IIIISSSS” you heard Jill before you saw her

“And there she gooooeeesss” you mimicked her turning to leave again

“No no no no no Lieveheersbeestje” the dutch said quickly throwing her arm around your shoulders pulling you further into the gym

“Lie... what?” you looked at her disgusted

“Lieveheersbeestje... Ladybug” the young player smiled

“Ew... stop giving me Pet names... your my annoying soul sister” you pushed her of you

“Naaaaw.... love you too” the dutch sing songed and pulled you back against her

“Let go you annoying gouda-head” you said trying to push her away again

“Say that you love me too” Jill laughed holding on to you even tighter

“My Sister taught me not to lie..” you pushed harder even tho both of you were just messing “so I'm not saying this because it would be a big fat lie”

“You don't mean that” the dutch exclaimed shocked

“Pernille!!!!” you whined out as you spotted the Danish player “Jill is mean to me...”

“Jill...” the light blonde warned as she stretched her muscles

“I didn't do anything” the dutch defended herself

“She wanted me to lie... Lucy said if she ever catches me lying she cuts me feet off!” you immediately said accusingly

“Kids” Pernille warned now both of you before turning to her girlfriend “Which one do you want?”

“The small Bronze of course” Magda looked at Pernille like she lost her mind “I really don't understand that question”

“Just wanted to be polite” the Danish said rolling her eyes “Take your kid to the other side of the room... these two together won't be good”

“Come on Kid... we start over there” Magda pulled you out of Jills grip and to the other side of the gym

“I'm not your Kid” you looked confused but let the swede pull you along

“Now you are... or do you prefer Kiddo?” the blonde swede grinned “Or should I throw Swedish nicknames at you?”

“Can't you just be normal?” you looked bewildered

“Normal is boring... I'm fun” Magda grinned

“And old...” you mumbled

“Hey... I'm not old” the blonde exclaimed

“Oh sorry... you are experienced” you nodded with a shit eating grin

“Just... do your training” Magda pushed you towards the treadmill

“I... don't have a trainings plan” you said confused

“Then do whatever you fell like but please do something... Pernille is already looking over” the swede whisper yelled

“Uuuuhhh... someone is scared of her girlfriend” you teased the older player

“You want me to get her on your ass... I still can swap kids” Magda said grinning

“I... can't go on the treadmill...” you admitted a little ashamed

“Why not... it's not that hard... and you look fit enough to do it” the swede pushed you slightly

“No... I... physically can't...” you started to bite your lip looking up to find your girlfriend

“Would you please explain that?” Magda said carefully sensing that it was a very personal topic

“I have... knee issues” you said finally spotting your girlfriend on the bench press

“Okay...” the swede said softly “... want to do some arm work?”

“I can do push ups or pull ups” you said excited and grateful that Magda dropped the topic

“How many pull ups can you manage?” Magda grinned poking at your competitiveness

“More than you” you shot back

“Oh we're gonna see that” the blonde grinned already jumping up to grab the monkey bar

“Respect little Bronze...” Magda panted out next to you as both of you laid on the ground faces red and covered in sweat “... didn't think you had it in you”

“My sister is Lucy Bronze...” you panted back “... had to beat her in something”

“Are you two done being idiots?” Pernille asked appearing in your line of vision

“We're not idiots” the swede answered her girlfriend “... we had to settle an argument”

“Oh really...” the Danish said raising her eyebrows “... keeping everyone from training because you two do pull ups until you pass out... counts as being idiotic”

“I won” you weakly pointed out your breathing slowly getting back to normal

“Pff... you wish” the blonde swede next to you huffed

“Oh I won” you sat up quickly which turned out to be the wrong move as you began to sway

“Yes Søde you won” Pernille was immediately by your side steadying you with her legs

“She didn't.... you shouldn't lie to her” Magda exclaimed

“She won” the Danish said firmly throwing her girlfriend a look that probably could freeze hell

“Yes darling... she won... fair and square...” the swede quickly corrected herself and it made you snicker

“Alex is waiting for you?” the Danish looked down at you

“Uh yeah... he driving me home” you quickly said trying to stand up but your said it wasn't a good idea

“Stay down... let your body relax and let it come back from the torture you just put it through” Pernille said gently

“Don't have time for that” you answered trying to stand up again

“Oh but you gonna make time Søde...” the Danish smirked and you knew you better listen

“If G helps me... would you please let me go shower?” you asked carefully

“No... Georgia has to train” Pernille answered shortly “... I normally should train too but I can stay a little longer with Magda so I can afford a few minutes”

“We stay longer?” the blonde swede whined “Why?”

“Because you haven't done any of your training so far... you did pull ups....” the Danish answered strictly

“Aaaah maaaan” Magda huffed annoyed

“Your own fault... MY kid is already done with her training by the way... I win the better parent contest” Pernille grinned

“My kid is cooler and fitter” the swede shot back “Your kid is just annoying”

“HA!” you exclaimed happily “I think I can stand up now”

“Try” the Danish encouraged you and you finally got up without swaying “.... okay... off to the shower and you clock out before you leave”

“Yes mom” you rolled your eyes but quickly moved out of the way when Pernille tried to playfully kick your ass

15 minutes later you pushed your head through the door of the gym looking for Pernille

“Mom I'm gone...” you yelled in her direction finding her standing next to Magda who just did some leg press

“I expect you home for dinner” the Danish shot back without taking her eyes of her girlfriend

“Yes mother” you rolled your eyes

“That's “ja mor” for you brat” Pernille played along smiling slightly as she nudged Magda slightly with her foot against her girlfriends hip silently telling her to focus

“Yeah yeah... I'm off..” you pulled a face before disappearing again

“So... any tips for free?” Alex asked as soon you slided into his passenger seat

“You have to watch Aitana... this woman likes to work” you said as you put your seatbelt in place

“I already know that” the Norwegian rolled his eyes as he smoothly maneuvered the car through traffic “... want a little city tour?”

“I wish I could but I really have to get going on this stupid desert G promised Pernille for inviting us for dinner” you grumbled

“You got invited by Hardersson? Nice...” the trainer looked impressed

“Why you look so impressed?” you asked confused not understanding why he would be impressed by a dinner invitation

“You getting invited by our royal couple... impressive... you here now what... two days? Three?” Alex mused

“Three if you count arrival” you said “Royal couple?”

“You don't really follow social media don't you?” the Norwegian asked chuckling

“Not really no... being Lucy Bronzes sister does things.... the amount of thirst messages over my sisters hands or her thighs I received kinda put me off having a social media account... then there were threats... or inappropriate messages... oh yeah... and the messages that said they were happy I had three ACLs.... so no.. not really on social media” you said flatly

“The internet is a dangerous place...” the Trainer said calmly “... but also a good place you know... we as a Club can use it to keep in touch with the fans... we can rewatch games... players can basically promote themselves”

“I know... I never said it was bad... it wasn't just not a good place for me at the time” you said seriously

“But back to the original topic.. Hardersson is the royal couple...” Alex said

“I thought that was Beth and Viv...” you asked confused

“Here in Munich it's Pernille and Magda” the Norwegian smiled

“You're biased because Pernille is on your national team” you said shaking your head

“She's Danish....” the Trainer rolled his eyes “... I'm Norwegian and I don't train the NORWEAGIAN team”

“Danish... Norwegian... Sweden... all cold countries” you grumbled

“England isn't far off” Alex teased you

“We have rain... not cold” you huffed

“I went skiing in Glencoe last winter” the Norwegian chuckled finding immense entertainment in riling you up

“Glencoe is Scotland you fish eating...” you couldn't think off a good insult so you just huffed again

“We're here my token” he laughed as he pointed to the front door of the house where Georgia had her apartment in

“Thanks for the ride trainer” you tipped your head and got out of the car

“Don't forget to lose that paper tomorrow” he yelled after you and you threw a thumbs up at him

“Baby... I'm ho... shit that smells good... what is it?” Georgia yelled as she opened the door and got a little sniff of the pastry you made.

She walked into the kitchen but you weren't there. But she found the most delicious treat. Just as she was about to grab one from the baking tray you yelled from the bathroom

“If you touch them damn things Georgia Stanway I cut your fingers off”

“But you love my fingers!” your girlfriend yelled back in a teasing tone but retreated from the tray

“You still have a tongue I can use...” you deadpanned as you stepped out of the bathroom wearing a dark blue pantsuit with a silver necklace just putting in the matching earrings and light make-up

“True... but you li....” Georgia said but stopped midsentence and just stared at you

“What?” you asked seeing her staring at you

“You... this... you” your girlfriend rambled with wide eyes

“Do you need a restart?” you asked carefully and a little taken aback “... I can hit you if you need it”

“No.... you're just... you're beautiful.... so so beautiful” Georgia whispered

“Thank you” you said shyly your cheeks flushed as you bit your lip

“I think we should stay in....” your girlfriend pushed herself into your space towering a little over you

“No... I spend the last two hours making that desert... we go...” you said firmly pushing her back slightly “... go change... if we're late because of you...”

“Yeah... I'm already moving... no need to get mean woman” Georgia grumbled knowing exactly what you wanted to say

30 Minutes later you stood in front of a small house a little outside the city center with your basket full of deserts. Georgia took it upon herself to ring the doorbell – multiple times to annoy Magda – and was now waiting with a wide grin for the swede to open the door. And that she did. Magda opened the door saw a widely grinning Georgia Stanway with you behind her holding a basket. The swede eyed the basket and you offered it to her so she could take a better look

“I come brining gifts” you smirked as you saw the blonde lurking inside

Suddenly everything went very quickly. Georgia got pushed to the side so she nearly fell into the rose bushes you got grabbed and ungracefully pulled inside as Magda shut the door behind you with her foot

“Pernille... Pernille....” the swede excitedly yelled pulling you behind her further into the house “PERNILLE!!!”

“I'm in the same universe as you... stop screaming... what's the matter” the Danish came out of the – what you assume living room – looking annoyed “... hello dearest daughter of mine”

“Hi...” you said a little bit flustered and confused

“What's the matter Eriksson?” Pernille looked at her girlfriend who just pushed you in front of her with a wide grin

“Look...” she motioned to the basket

“Where's Georgia?” the Danish asked looking behind you two

“Don't know” Magda said getting more excited by the second “.... who cares... LOOK”

Finally Pernille took a look into the basket and bursted out laughing

“Can we keep her??” the blonde swede asked hopefully

“She's not a dog Magda” Pernille rolled her eyes

“But she made Kanelbullar!!” Magda pointed out taking the basket from your hands shoving it in her girlfriends face

“You are unbelievable Magda... no manners whatsoever” the Danish said annoyed as she made her way to the door to leave your girlfriend in

“I'm really sorry Georgia...” the blonde Dane said “... you have my permission to hit her”

“It's alright...” your girlfriend waved off “... I got threatened with cut off fingers if I'd touch them... she made them from scratch”

“Magda will guard her with her life now...” Pernille chuckled as she watched her girlfriend basically carrying you around and running circles around you asking you a million questions a second if you need anything

“That's okay...” Georgia smiled softly “.... she deserves to have more people in her corner”

“God Stanway... you really are in love” the blonde Dane chuckled

“Is that a bad thing when you look at her?” your girlfriend looked longing at you

“No... she's a treasure...” Pernille smiled as well watching how her girlfriend offered you even her Olympic medal in exchange for more Kanelbullar

#georgia stanway x reader #woso image #keira walsh x reader #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze #magdalena eriksson x pernille harder x reader

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emchante · 1 month ago

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I feel like brothers best friend!carlos seeing you wearing glasses for the first time would drive him crazy, he'd think you look so innocent and smart but also somehow super hot at the same time that he'd just want to ruin you and cum on your face while you were still wear the glasses

WHEWWWW as a girlie with glasses, this hits a lil different…

18+ content below! oral (m receiving), innocent!reader, facial.

the first time carlos sees you wearing your glasses is when he invites himself into your bedroom. he knocks three times, the same rhythm as always so you know it’s him. he walks in to see you sat at your desk, working away on some college papers.

you swivel around in your chair to see him, and— oh. his eyes widen slightly at the sight of you with glasses, and you’re stunning. they’re slipping down your nose a little when you face him fully, so you use the back of your hand to push them back up, smiling at him.

“hi carlos, i’ve missed you! how’re you today?” you ask him, naive as ever. you notice carlos’ intense gaze on you, but you try to brush it off.

keyword: try. it was a little unsettling when carlos was staring you down, eyes darker than usual as his teeth grazed his bottom lip. you gulp, intimidated by him and you shrink in on yourself slightly.

the sight of you so innocent, so small— it done so much to carlos, that it was almost indescribable. you were so pure, and yet, he wanted to wreck you. turn you into a drunk cockslut who craves him every minute of the day.

he suddenly started to march over towards you, causing your eyes to widen as you tilted your head back to look up at him, his strong physique towering over you.

“you look beautiful, princesa. i’ve never seen you with these on before.. hiding your pretty self from me?” he asks, voice low as cupped your chin between his thumb and index finger.

you laughed bashfully, shaking your head as well as you could in his tight grasp. “nono carlos.. i just don’t like to wear them often, is all. i don’t like how i look,” you admit, and that’s all it took.

that’s how you ended up on your knees, bare skin burning against the fabric of the carpet as your body shook from the force that carlos was fucking your face at. your hands gripped at his large, strong thighs as you tried to hold yourself in place.

the whimpers and choked moans that came from your throat were beautiful, even more so seeing as the vibrations were around his aching cock, which was begging for release. you were teary eyed, your mouth not used to being so stretched, so full.

your glasses had started to slip off you slightly as he fucked your face, but carlos made sure they stayed on. anytime he seen them slip, he moved them back up as he tutted.

“can’t have those slipping off your face, cariño. not when they’re the reason this is happening, hm?”

carlos told you when you could feel him pulsing, that it meant he was getting close. so, when you felt his cock begin to pulse in your mouth, you looked up at him with wide eyes. the sight was adorable, your big, innocent eyes staring up at him, as you took his thick cock in your mouth.

he pulled out before finishing, and stroked his cock at a more intense pace than usual, eyes still trained on you.

“smile, princesa. now.”

you did as he told you to do, and suddenly carlos’ cum was all over your face. you whined as you felt the warm, sticky fluid paint its way over your cheeks, your lips and most importantly— your glasses.

carlos made sure to coat them extra, and the view of you fucked out, saliva dripping from your lips, cum splattered over your face and barely being able to see out your glasses— it was a sight to behold. and carlos couldn’t wait to do it again.

#opening my mail #thots #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz smut #bbf! carlos #cs

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wanders-in-wonderland · 1 year ago

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Electrified

Waking up naked and tied to a gynecologist chair with my feet in the stirrups and arms secured above my head. I can’t move, can’t escape, and there’s a gag in my mouth so I can’t even make a sound. There’s a tray of instruments, toys, dildos, vibrators, and more next to me and I feel myself getting wet with fear and anticipation. He walks in and doesn’t say a single word to me, just sits down between my legs and gets to work.

The first thing he does is grab a syringe filled with some kind of liquid. He ignores my whining and attempts at breaking free and injects whatever is in the syringe into my thigh. The sting fades quickly and I feel my entire body start to heat up. It’s an aphrodisiac.

My pussy is dripping wet now, clenching softly, achingly empty while my clit is pulsing in time with my heartbeat. My nipples are suddenly so hard and sensitive, even the air feels overwhelming. I’m squirming the best I can, trying to make the feelings go away but I can’t.

He grabs a blindfold from the tray and ties it around my head and I’m completely blind, no way to tell what’s coming next. All my remaining senses are heightened and I can feel my arousal dripping down my cunt.

I can hear him clattering around on the tray, grabbing different things. Suddenly, I feel his lips on my nipple as he closes his mouth around one while his fingers pluck at the other. It feels so good but at the same time not enough to satisfy the need that’s building inside of me. His mouth pulls away without warning and I feel the cold, metal teeth of a clamp come down on my nipple. I scream behind the gag as pain explodes from my nipple, but it makes my pussy drool even more. He does the same to my other nipple and I’m panting and shaking by the time he’s done.

He pulls away and I’m left aching and throbbing. I feel his fingers trail along my stomach, down towards between my legs. He gently rakes a finger over my clit and I buck and scream, the feeling amplified a hundred-fold by the drug he’d injected earlier. I feel his tongue press gently against my clit and with no other warning, he dives in, eating me out like a man starved.

It feels unbelievable, the pleasure coursing through me, everything so sensitive and so good. He wraps his lips around my clit and sucks hard and I scream in response. He slides two fingers into my clenching pussy, curling up to hit my g-spot, making me see stars. The throbbing in my nipples seems to add to the pleasure, the pain mixing with all the other feelings to create an indescribable inferno.

I feel myself barreling towards an orgasm, every cell in my body filling with pleasure when without warning, he snaps a clamp onto my clit. I wail, the pain mixing with the built-up pleasure exploding in a horrible, ruined orgasm that leaves me gasping and crying. Every feeling is narrowed to my clit where the clamp is digging into my swollen button. I shake my head, begging him to take the clamp off behind my gag. My tears have soaked through the blindfold and I’m overwhelmed by every feeling.

I barely notice him pulling away from me, all I can think about is the clamp on my clit. Suddenly, I feel a sharp pain dancing on my nipples, like I’ve been shocked. The feeling hits a second time and I lurch upwards, moaning and thrashing, trying to dislodge the clamps. I whimper softly as he zaps my nipples a third time, this time with a much lower intensity. Every feeling compounds and every prickle of pain seems to make my cunt drip even more. The aphrodisiac running through my veins makes every feeling more intense, and pain blends into pleasure.

I feel the slightest buzz on my clit and my blood runs cold. I wail behind the gag, begging him to stop, begging for him to leave my clit alone but he ignores me without a care. A harsh zap hits my clit and I see white. The pain is excruciating but exquisite as every part of my body clenches in response.

The next zap hits my clit and nipples at the same time and I explode. He maintains the electricity, forcing my body to endure the continuous pain and pleasure as I cum in agony. The clamps don’t let up, even after I’ve cum and I feel myself climbing higher and higher as my pussy clenches around nothing over and over again. All of the pleasure seems to combine into a single moment of pure torture as he increases the intensity of the electricity. And I wail in response, feeling my next orgasm rip out of me, my cunt squirting my release out. My thighs are trembling, my whole body shaking, and the air in my lungs is coming out in harsh sobs. Finally, he lets up and I feel the electricity fizzle out.

I’m half unconscious when he pulls the clamps off my nipples and clit, ignoring my whimpers of pain when the blood comes rushing back. He pulls the blindfold off my eyes and the gag away from my mouth and I watch him lean in close to me with a dangerous smile, “Oh honey, we’re not even close to being done.”

He leans in and captures my lips in a bruising kiss, his tongue dominating my mouth. I whimper into him, arching up to get as close as possible to him. One of his hands comes up and wraps around my throat, applying just enough pressure to hold me down without cutting off my air. He ravages my mouth and pulls away, smiling down at me with dark promises in his eyes.

I smile up at him, knowing he has much more planned for me. “Thank you, Sir.”

#cnc k!nk #cnc overstim #overstim kink #cnc drugging #aphrodisiac #electrostimulation #cl!t torture #nsft concept #dark fantasy #medfet

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cjlouwho · 7 months ago

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once a year tommy goes to this little cafe outside of LA and sits at the same table and orders the same meal. he's done it since he got back from the army. no one knows about it except for the owner of the cafe, steve, who's been there since day one. he didn't always go alone. when he was young he would go with his mom. it was a yearly tradition when they'd go back-to-school shopping. they went right before he was shipped off to afghanistan too, just because they'd miss their usual date. when tommy was away, his mom died of a sudden heart attack. he didn't even find out about it for a few weeks.

he didn't go for a couple of years after that. the anniversary of their annual cafe date was somehow worse than the anniversary of her death. but one year, something inside him screamed for him to go back. go have that meal that they loved so much. sit at that table. do it for her. maybe you'll even feel her there? so he goes. and steve remembers him. how could he ever forget tommy? he'd watched that kid grow up!

the first year he went back was hard. he barely ate the food, felt indescribably lonely, and once he got back to his car he sobbed for nearly half an hour before he could even drive away.

then he came back the next year, and the next, and the next. he kept coming back, always alone. even when he had people in his life, he'd come alone.

then one year steve looked over at the table, knowing tommy should be arriving soon, and saw two men sitting there. he went over to tell them they'd have to move- the table was reserved, but halfway over he stopped. it was tommy... with someone this time. the other guy was looking around, then leaning in close to tommy. it looked like he was asking questions. he reached over the table and took tommy's hand and squeezed it and tommy... smiled. he smiled a real smile that reached his eyes. steve hadn't seen that smile since the last time he came with his mom.

so steve walks over to the table to say hello, like always. to ask him about his life and what he's been up to this last year. he'd always say "not much, really. nothing new." but this time he kept his smile, motioned toward the man across from him and introduced him as, "My boyfriend, Evan Buckley, or Buck. Evan, this is Steve."

and this boy, Buck, he stands and shakes steve's hand, asks to pull up another chair, says, "i heard you knew tommy's mom?"

steve nods. "i did." because while tommy only came once a year, his mom came more often. it was her little safe haven away from home.

"i've heard a lot about her from tommy," this buck said, a bright smile on his face. "but i'd like to know more. what was she like?"

so steve sat, and talked and talked, and the boys listened- Buck listened.

tommy never came to the cafe alone again.

#bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #911 #tevan #kinley #idk what this is guys im feeling emotional about my dad and wrote this out #we went to this certain restaurant a few times a year #and i really miss going #and we had this thing where we'd go vote then go to breakfast #and voting time is coming up soon and its my first time going without him #its gonna suck #anyway here's whatever this is

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reverie-verse · 9 months ago

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Can u do eris x reader with previous az x reader(but he is an ass he just used her for sex to get over mor). So basically eris and yn are mates and they have sex and he discovered she never had aftercare before and yn is so overwhelmed with the love and care she receives that she cried and eris was mad with az and next time he saw him he stabbed him and left.but pls give the aftercare the biggest part in this thanksss

Eris x Reader: My Enemy Didn’t Deserve You.

A/N: I’m trying something new as you can see, I’m creating boards now haha I had so much fun doing this sooooo, I think imma do it more often!😊 I definitely tweaked a few things, this is my second time writing Eris, and I see him as a talker more than full on fist fighter. And again Lestat is how I picture him, I can’t explain it I’m sorry but that’s how I see him😭.

My requests are open! So please do not be afraid to ask meeeee anything! I hope you enjoy it! Also this is kinda long and im sorry 😭

——————————-

You weren’t sure how long you’d been laying on this cushion of a lounge chair, your arm hung over the armrest, some of your hair joining it. You were completely bare, Eris rested between your legs, his lips devouring your sex. You were reading earlier, your book thrown somewhere in the midst of all your clothes. Your moans grow louder by each lick and nip. Eris lets go of your bundle of nerves with a pop, he rests his cheek against your thigh, his long slender fingers already pumping at a delicious pace. Your eyes are screwed shut, your mouth hangs open. Your other hand lifts to grasp at his hair, Eris hums, reaching to grab the hand that held him down.

He tsks. “ Ah-Ah, Y/N you know better”

“ Fuck-Eris-“ You could feel the pressure building in your tummy, you clench around his fingers as he opens you. Prepping you.

“ I haven’t buried my cock in you yet-“

You sucked in a breath “Mother!-” You felt another orgasm edged out of you, your body shook, as the release caused you to become soaked and glistening. You could’ve sworn your saw stars.

“No mother here, only me” He says as he maneuvers himself to his knees, he pushes your legs wider, he lines himself with your entrance. He leaned down briefly, capturing your lips with his. His tongue slips into your mouth stroking against yours. Your hand moved from the armrest, moving between your bodies as you take some of your slick placing it onto him, you grip him pumping him at a decent pace. He groans into your mouth, you greedily take it, swallowing his gorgeous sounds. “ Y/N” he growls, as he pulls back to nip at your lips, his own trailing down to your neck.

“Eris” You whine but not before Eris moves to capture your lips again, it was then that you helped him glide through your folds, slowly, and towards your leaking hole. Eris releases your lips again, your eyes moved to look downward watching him slowly enter you.“ Fuck-“ You whispered, Eris rested his forehead against yours watching your movements not caring how impatient you’re being. You were so open, inviting, your hips wiggling to get closer. You needed him.

“ Needy girl taking what she wants” Once he was about half way in, he took control pushing further in till he bottoms out, the two of you moaning in unison. His hips roll, you hum in an encouraging response. When it came to the bond, it was indescribable, the two of you connected in every way, sometimes it was overwhelming and sometimes it still felt as if it wasn’t enough. You placed your fingers on his neck, some of them intertwining with his hair, you brought his lips back to yours. This allowed Eris to take advantage, he rolled his hips, again, his thrust increasing in pace, drawing out your beautiful noises. He took them with no remorse, relishing in the sound.

He was relentless, his tip hitting each of your sensitive spots, your cervice, your g- spot in every part of you, he could possibly reach. Your skin hot, sweaty, his skin, practically on fire, you swore you saw steam leave him. Eris chuckles out loud at your thought. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss. Eris used a free hand that was not gripping the armrest, to cup one of your breasts. He kneads it with fever, rolling it the sensitive budds occasionally. He pounded into you at a delicious pace, your mouth opened to release a moan, Eris was quick to catch it, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip every now and then. His groans at the feeling of how slick and wet your gummy walls were, the fluttering around his cock, squeezing him. It drove him mad, in fact it only encouraged him to thrust faster, chasing that high he so desperately wanted you to reach.

The squelching had only made you wetter by the second, you craved Eris who was thrusting with all of his might, his hips starting to sputter and become sloppy, Eris removed his lips from yours, his forehead resting against yours. Eris slid his hand from the breast that he cupped, down to your sweet plush of nerves. His fingers worked quickly, bringing you near another orgasm. The two of you watched your own bodies react to one another, molded into each other. Your breaths intermingle, the both of you fight for air but not exactly caring if you had any, the pleasure was intoxicating.

“ Fuck-“ He swears.

“ Eris!-Oh!-fuck! “You gasp out, your breathing gaining speed, your moans increasing, your head Lullying back again, your body begins to convulse. You released faster than you expected, your orgasm shooting out of you, squirting onto him, it was enough to make Eris release himself. The sight of you so gorgeous and beautiful, he needed to keep a mental image, as he thrusted himself back into, chasing after his own high. As he rocked himself to complete, he eased the soreness, you continued humming, running your hand down his chest. His own climax following suit, your touch was all he needed to push him over the edge. A loud moan leaves his lips, you smile sweetly at the sound.

Eris breathes, his chest and heart working to slow down its pace, he leans back on his knees, unsheathing himself from you, you let out a whimper. Eris looks down at the apex of your thighs, you have completely soaked the material of the lounge chair, your release mixed with his seed. He takes two of his slender fingers gathering the combined orgasms, shoving his fingers into your mouth. You sucked diligently on his slender digits, your hands holding his wrists, you hummed at the feeling and the taste. The two of you connected in almost every way possible.. In the midst of it, he conjures a wet towel, as he wipes your sex clean from the sticky mess. His finger slipped from your mouth, you shuddered at the feeling of the cold material. You hiss, weren’t used to this sensation, and it wasn’t something you experienced before.

“ Eris?” You questioned as you propped yourself up, your eyes watching his movements, his touch delicate, gentle, he took his time. You were confused, your heart already on overdrive, Eris didn’t help the situation by caressing you through the bond. A feeling of love and loyalty. He swore in his mind that you will always be his, no one else. Your eyebrows furrowed as he continued his ministrations and his loving confessions.

“ Hmm?” He replies, he tosses the towel to the side after he finishes, he gives your thighs a reassuring comforting squeeze.

“ Why did you do that?” You asked, his amber eyes meet your own, he watches you closely. He didn’t need the bond to know that you had never had this before, he could see it in the way your body tensed. You were so lax and comfortable until he cleaned you. He wasn’t sure if you liked that he had done so. Over the centuries he had learned from his past lovers that they enjoyed after care, the feeling, the connection, the moment, the time when nothing else existed outside of the room they occupied. Had you not had past lovers who took care of you in this way?

“I supposed I did it because I love you, and this is my way of showing you that I do, that I care for you-“Eris shot another wave of love through the bond, you were struck hard, your chest swelled, your heart pounded at the feeling. Overcome with love and appreciation, with the notion of willingness to be with you. You couldn’t detect a single negative thought or emotion. Didn’t feel disregarded and you didn’t feel like a used object either. Not in the way you had experienced in the past. “-Did you not like that I had? Would you prefer it if I didn’t?” He asks you with the most sincere voice.

“ I-“ Your heart couldn’t take it, tears welled in your eyes, you weren’t sure how to respond. How do you tell the love of your life, the light of your soul, the torment you went through. How do you tell him, that you did enjoy it, that you were taken by surprise is all..but that surprise unlocked a door that you had closed long ago. Old wounds reopened only for him to heal them. Eris pulled you into his arms, it was there, when you felt his comfort, his warmth, his strength and his peace. You felt safe, you felt protected. Your tears left you no sooner, a gentle stream down your cheeks, they rolled off your skin splattered against Eris’s shoulder. He held you tighter as you cried.

His own heart shattering, what had you gone through enough to make you feel this way? Who did this to you? Why did they do this to you? Eris felt that you had been deprived of a sweetest most intimate form of affection, of love and devotion. No one had the right to take that from you. It made Eris’s blood boil at the thought of it all, to be used simply as a means of release repulsed him. Sure everyone once in a blue moon, a male or a female may seek comfort from others, but by the looks of this, it was someone you knew who did this to you often. You must’ve sought out for comfort and were rejected each time.

Eris didn’t mean to growl out loud, but he did, you pulled yourself from the crook of his neck and shoulder to look at him. You placed a hand on his cheek, you could see the frustration, the anger on his face, you could feel him through the bond, it made your skin feel hot, inside and out. “ I-I love you too, I’m sorry that I’m crying, I just- no one has ever done this before..I-I Iike it..” you admitted it quietly.

“ You don’t deserve to be treated with such little care. You deserve more than that, you deserve to have all of the sweetest moments intimacy has to offer. Never apologize for that, no male should’ve taken advantage of you the way that they did-” He lefts a hand, his thumbs swipes at the salty tears that roll down your cheeks, he wipes the pain away, he places a soft but firm kiss on your forehead. You shut your eyes letting his reassurance wash of you, calming you down, easing your pains and worries. The way your body melted, sinking into him. Eris’s jaw tenses. “ Who did this to you?” He whispered against your skin.

“I’m not sure I should tell you..”, you move to pull yourself completely from his arms, you pull underwear on, you grab his tunic and throw it on. Eris was quick to follow you, throwing on his own underwear and trousers.

“ Why not?” His interest peaked, you had finally wiped the last of your tears away, you made your way back to your shared bedroom, you looked for your bathroom, needing to pee. Eris of course was hot on your heels.

“ I don’t know..I’m kinda nervous” You give a small shrug, you enter your bathroom, Eris stays by the door, he heaves a frustrated sigh. A soft smile stretches across your lips. Your heart is swelling again, at the feeling of your mate caring for you. Wishing to know who and what haunted you, to heal you and start over. Appreciate warming your chest.

“ You don’t need to be nervous, I’d rather you tell me now than to find out later, involuntarily.” He speaks out as he leans against the threshold. His eyes scanning your space, the room in which the two of you called your own. A sweet dream, a safe space, a comfort.

“ Alright you won me over with your charm-” the sound of flushing could be heard, followed by washing your hand in the sink. Eris looked at you through the mirror. Your eyes connected “ If I tell you, you must promise me that you will remain calm, and they are still my friends even though they hate me-“ You turned back to look at him.

“They don’t hate you- they are simply mad that the cauldron had paired you up with someone who they think is a monster-it doesn’t matter, I don’t care what they think but if that’s what you wish, then I will do my best”

“ Thank you..” You bowed your head in a nod” Umm-how do I-…Before I met you, before the bond-I was with Azriel. Really it was sort of a-a bedroom relationship..at the time I was in love with him, and he was in love with Mor, he was trying to get over her.. so we slept together..“

“-If he wanted someone for sex he should’ve gone out to a brothel or a club. I’m sure he could’ve picked anyone off the street-“ He growled at the thought of Azriel using you, of all the males in Prythian. It had his bones searing on the inside. His blood already boiled, his skin practically on fire. Rage as one might call it reflects in his eyes. His hands warmed in sensation, fire licking at his fingertips.

“ Eris, hey, It was a long time ago, it was his fault as much as it was mine too, I was madly in love with him, I would’ve done anything back then. It was naive and stupid, I know that now-“ You were by his side holding his face in your hands. Your eyes flickered between his, you reached a finger up to sooth the angry lines that formed on his beautiful face. His body still rigided but relaxes under your touch.

“ He had no right, even if you were in love with him, he had taken you for granted. He knew you loved him, he knew you cared for him. He knew that if he had you, you wouldn’t leave him. The depths he went to, you must’ve laid there afterwards waiting for him to console you, speak with you, laugh with, and nothing-“ Your lips crashed into Eris’s. He didn’t resist or stop you, instead he let go of the words that wished to run out. Your body pressed against him so tightly, he let you guide the kiss, which was unusual but he needed it. Eris turned his head allowing for the kiss to deepen, your tongue massages the roof of his mouth. You let out a soft moan as Eris’s hands curve around your hips, kneading your body as he reaches to cup your ass.

When your lungs could no longer resist air, the two of you pulled back with only an between you.“ I’m not sure I can keep my promise” He says breathlessly, his forehead pressed to yours.

“ Eris” You shake your head.

“ I won’t kill him, I suppose I’ll have to resort to other things” He tells you as he bumps his nose with yours, the urge to kiss you was strong. His thought’s intermingled with pleasure. All the dirty things he could do to you, in various positions, in various rooms, anywhere, you wanted. To think that Azriel was stupid enough to let you go to neglect a gorgeous female such as yourself, it drove him mad.

“You can’t poison him either or use your magic or anything. You’ve always been the one to use your words-“ Eris pulled you into the space of the bedroom, his hands couldn’t stay off of you, he wanted you right then and there, he wanted you to scream out his name like a prayer as one might do in a temple.

“I am a man of my word, I won’t kill him, but I wouldn’t mind breaking a bone or two, if he decides to cross my path or comes near you-“ His eyes grow darker with lust, the smell of his arousal prominent. You allow him to toss you onto the bed.

“ Eris, that’s a bit much, no?” Eris climbed above you, his hands resting on either side of your head.

“ No, not when it comes to you.”

“ Then let me give you a piece of advice.”

“ Y/N”

“Don’t let him win”

____

Autumn solstice was today, guests had already arrived and mingled with one another. Music filled the room, guests danced with one another, smiles adorned their faces. The aroma of the food floated outwards catching the guests who were hungry, friends laughed together as they ate and drank. Everyone seemed to have been enjoying themselves, the atmosphere vibrant and enjoyable. Upon the arrival of the inner circle, this was what they least expected from Autumn. They were truly surprised, they had no intention of coming but with the alliance between the two courts, a visit was required..not to mention they missed you more they imagined. Your absence was truly felt.

Feyre missed you dearly, you were the one female here that helped her transition from Spring, to Night, to Spring back to Night, you helped her ease into her fae body. She was forever grateful. Nesta couldn’t describe the pain she felt when Rhys had sent you off. She hadn’t spoken to him for months, you were the one person that understood her the best. You were patient with her. Cassian missed the way you so easily understood his sense of humor, oftentimes you added to it, which made irritating the inner circle that much more sweeter. He wished he had spent more time with you, his best friend. Rhys on the other hand missed your presence, you were a resilient soul, your strength was something to admire. He often looked to you for the true console just everyone else had.

Azriel struggled with your absence the most, the withdrawal of not having you near took a toll on him in more ways than one. He missed you as a dear friend, just as the others, but there was a deeper rooted feeling. Not too long ago you were attached to his hip. You were there every beck and call he had, every wish and thought he expressed, you filled the void. You there when Mor couldn’t have been. You were there when Elain first emerged in his life, again you tended to every need. Azriel made no move to return the gestures of what you felt back to you, he had never felt romantically attracted to you. You were a means of sexual escape, away to let out all his frustration, his anger, his pain, into. All the females he had craved gave him nothing in return except you. Even with his rejections, you continuously had given him everything, all the love he ever needed, but it was never enough..

The inner circle's eyes scanned the area, they searched for you, their dearest friend, and when their eyes found you, they each held their breath in awe. You stood in the middle of the crowded room, you were radiant, glowing, your hair in an elegantly loose but not too tight style, creating a perfect balance. Your skin adorned simple jewelry, but as simple as they were, each piece crafted in amber. Your dress was unique, the color of Phtalo green, silky material cascaded down your body, the hem barely touched the floor, when you moved, it was like watching a gentle stream of water. You flowed with such calmness it was enchanting, the little gems that were delicately sown on, shimmered as if the sun's light kissed it. You looked as though you lived and breathed autumn, the heart of the court…

“She’s exquisite isn't she?”Eris tenses at the sound of the familiar voice. The male he despised with everything he had in him.

“She is“ Eris replies his heart squeezing with love, his eyes following you as you stop in your tracks, Nesta, Feyre, Rhys, Cassian approaches you. You practically beamed with excitement as they all crashed into you. You had been speaking with Lucien, who also shared the same excitement. It was a sweet moment to witness something he’ll enjoy hearing you gush about later.

Azriel stood next to Eris watching his family closely. As Azriel sees you he can’t help but think- maybe in another lifetime, one where he might’ve returned what you felt. Choosing to have a life of happiness with you rather than to wait for someone else to return his love. That you might be as happy as you are now. But in the end he just couldn’t feel the same way about you- this thought he carried was one that was just-a dream-a wish-but not true to his emotions and his reality. “How is she adjusting?” He asks, no matter what happened, no matter how little he felt about you, he still cared enough to ask as a friend.

“She’s adjusting well.” Eris wasn’t as forthcoming with your information, Azriel figured as much. Eris refused to give him any sort of insight on how your life might be. It was truly none of his business.

“ Do you mind if I speak with her?” Azriel takes a brief look at Eris, who just so happened to already have set eyes on him.

“Feeling regretful are we?” He turns his gaze back to you, you must’ve told a humorous story, the laughter that erupted out of everyone was loud. You were filled with such joy, it practically buzzed through the bond, Eris lips tilted upward slightly. None of them showed you distan or hatred. But Azriel the shadow themselves fringed upon your beautiful soul. Eris sighed.

“ Regretful no, but curious yes. She left the night court to be with you, I can’t imagine it being a pleasant experience” He says simply as if you meant nothing, and only jab at Eris was his goal.

“ You speak of experiences but if I remember correctly her experience with you was just that, unpleasant” Eris retorted, forcing Azriel to remember who the true villain was.

“ You know nothing of what happened between us” Azriel glares at the crowd, he shouldn’t be as frustrated as he is, he was the one who started the argument.

“I don’t?” Eris questions sarcastically, fine let the games begin.

“Yes” He says through his teeth.

” Look at you, upset because I spoke the truth. I thought your court was known for the truth.” Eris tsks as he shakes his head, as if scolding a child.

“I am not Mor, there is a difference between her and I” he replied his jaw tense and tight.

”Is there? Then again wasn’t she sleeping with others to avoid you.” Eris shrugs knowing that this would strike a cord in Azriel. A tit for a tat, he came after you, the least he could was target him the same way.

“ Shut your mouth!” He snaps, the two now facing one another.

“Did I hit a soft spot?” Eris challenges.

” Don’t you ever speak of Mor in that manner-“Azriel growls.

” Yet that’s exactly what you had done to Y/N? No? Did you forget already? Did you take one too many hits to that bat brain of yours-“Azriel shoves Eris forcing him back causing him to bare his teeth “- You made her feel as though she were only good to keep your bed warm, you left her unsatisfied, craving more than just sex, a companionship! -”

“ -She asked to be with me! She asked to be a means of release! She hated seeing me pawn over someone else! So I let her be as in love with me as she was.-” Azriel continues on shoving back Eris, who was waiting for a moment of violence to come.

” -You let her believe you were going to give her more!-“The conversation becomes more heated by the second.

” -I had too!” Azriel argues as if his words really mattered as if manipulation was the only option left for him to pick. The crowd in the room starts to murmur, the music abrupting to a halt, all eyes were on the pair. You and Rhys made eye contact for a brief moment before the two of you moved into action. The Lady of the court, Eris’s mother, encourages everyone to keep dancing, to let the music keep playing. A distraction.

“ No you didn’t, you could’ve told her how you felt instead of leading her down a path that you weren’t going to follow. If I were you Shadowsinger I’d save the manipulation tactics for the battlefield not for the bedroom, at least there we know you can get the job done” He bites back bis fists clenched ready to strike. Azriel clenched his jaw and his hand curled in a tight hold, waiting to see who’d throw the first punch. You were faster, you placed yourself between Eris and Azriel. You placed a hand on Eris’s chest and one outward to Azriel. Rhys and Cassian were right behind you moving to Azriel’s sides. They too also held their hands up trying to stop Azriel from making a mistake.

“ Az” Cassian warns.

“Go back home to Velaris, take the others with you. I have to fix the mess you made.” Rhys orders. He nods his head at Cassian who with the help of Nesta drag him out of the room.

“ I’m so sorry” Feyre apologizes.

You offer her a reassuring sad smile. “ It’s okay, I thank you all for coming. I appreciate it” She nods at you returning your expression, her eyes shooting to Rhys who gave her a sweet smile, telling her in his own way to go back with their family. Your heart shatters a little at the sight of your friends leaving. You wished you had spent more time with them. And you wished that there wasn’t so much hatred between the two groups, even with the alliance.

“ This will not happen again, I can assure both of you. I do hope that you can forgive my spymaster” Rhys says as Lucien pulls Eris away from you, giving him the opportunity to cool down.

“ I hope it doesn’t happen again..as for my mate he can be protective and I’m sure you understand what that’s like” you replied.

“ I do and for that I apologize. I’d hate it if this was to be the reason we lose our greatest ally.” Rhys, ever the politician.

“ I’m glad we can agree on the same point. We need each other more now than ever. This cannot be our downfall”

“ Of course.” Rhys bows slightly, offering you that comforting smile you missed so much. You turned to look over at your mate and his brother. Eris smacked Lucien’s hands away who only glared at him. You sighed deeply, one of ease and relief. You looked at your mate crossing your arms.

“Don't-.” Eris says as fixed his cufflinks after he had shoved Lucien away from him, who now found himself at the food table.

“-I was only going to say thank you.” You gave him a reassuring smile, Eris lifted his eyes to yours. He honestly expected you to rip him a new one. He was surprised, caught off guard, and he felt better. You uncrossed your arms wrapping them around his neck. Eris immediately wound his arms around your hips, pulling you as close as possible.

“He had no right to speak about you the way that he had. He came here searching for a fight, I cannot allow such disrespect in my home and to my mate. You don’t need to thank me. I’d do anything to protect you.” His eyes flickering between yours.

“He walked out of here unscathed, untouched. He had to be dragged back home. But you-you spoke with such strength and courage. You dared him to cross paths with you. You didn’t need to fight him, your words were sharper. You didn’t let him win” Eris’s heart warmed at your words. His chest swelling with love, with respect and with passion. He couldn’t have imagined anyone else by his side other than you. He tilts his head down slightly, capturing your lips with his, he kisses you with such intensity as if to thank you for thanking him. For loving him, for accepting him and for understanding him.

The two of you pull away briefly, your foreheads touching, he whispers to you“ Quite the high lady you’re becoming” the two of you giggle.

“ You’re becoming quite the hero” You replied, Eris shook his head, both of your shoulders shaking slightly as the two of you continued your giggling. Eris loved you more than you could’ve ever imagined. He was quick to defend you, he'd come to your aid you if you needed it. He was there every step of the way. He cared for you deeply, he wasn’t ever okay with anyone hurting you. He hated what Azriel did to you. You looked up at him with so much adoration and love, he cherished it, held it close to his heart. Eris presses a kiss to your forehead. Your eyes fluttered closed, Eris’s mother could be seen making her way over to you both. Now that was someone he knew would never hear the end of it.

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blueberrypancakesworld · 4 months ago

Text

Admiring from afar

Geta, Caracalla, Marcus x fem!reader

warning : fluff, kissing, holding hands, no use of Y/n

summary : The Colosseum fights after the victory for Great Rome were a true spectacle. But three men had their eyes set on something quite different from the bloody fights, something much more interesting that they had long hoped to see again and to make a first move before the others.

info: The second trailer is beautiful as always and the scenes of the three of us are just omg so good. So have fun with it and see you next time :)

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marcus

The sounds of battle could be heard, the screaming and shouting of the crowd who enjoyed the games, the fighters who were better than the others would end in bloody victories.

He had heard all of this himself all his life, he had thought he had only a battlefield around him, nothing but fighting… until he had seen her.

His eyes had fallen on her when she had shown him his armour, pure gold, the finest craftsmanship, a woman with such talent, an indescribable beauty.

She had simply not let go of him and he had prayed to the gods to be able to return to her in Rome. Now he was here with her. Sitting in the tribune with the two emperors, senators and her among the guests of honour.

A few coins and his influence had earned her a place. While he followed the brothers' speech only half-heartedly, his brown eyes wandered to her, seeing the stole that fell down her, the golden bracelets that nestled on her arm.

Marcus felt the desire to finally hear her voice, to be with her, and his gaze reached hers. She suddenly looked at him, and he saw how she gave him a smile, a small mischievous wink with her fingers.

He felt a surge of excitement when he saw her gaze wander over him, lingering a little longer on his muscular arms and firm hands before she turned her attention to the gladiators.

But there was something between them - the looks, the conversations in his tent away from the battlefield, her fascination with his actions and his admiration for her art - it seemed to be a confusion in a world that saw her only as a warrior and a woman.

After the first fighters had begun, not yet the most popular of the newcomers who would show what they could do, the tribune slowly began to move and the gentlemen began to enjoy themselves as Marcus rose from his chair and made his way to the tables of food and drink.

Two gilded plates laden with fruit and sweet sugars for them to eat together I hope you still like sugared berries he thought, remembering the foggy evening when she had given him his armor and he had served her berries from the region with sugar and honey. Her look as she sat next to him and her delighted laughter at the sweet taste as she had fed him the berries had warmed his heart.

As he went to her with the plates, he saw her trying to get up too, apparently to follow him, when Caracalla stood in her way and engaged her in conversation.

The leader didn't have much use for the two brothers, but this childish behavior could quickly end in irrational actions, ,,Emperor Caracalla a pleasure that you seem to enjoy yourselves so much with the fights, a real amusement,” Marcus began and saw how the blond seemed surprised at first and then smiled at him.

The shorter one obviously admired him but the balance of power was completely different, ,,I wanted to take the lady to the front the fights with the trident are particularly exciting” he chuckled and put his hand over hers as she gave him an apologetic look and Marcus read her tense body language, pressing a plate into her hand Marcus put his hand on the younger one's shoulder with a certain pressure.

,,I won't deny you that…nevertheless, my necklace of the cloak would need an enhancement, I'll bring the ladyship back to you at once" he said more calmly to the blond and even if he seemed to be snapped for a moment, the respect for such a war was greater and with a dismissive wave of his hand Carcalla went back to his brother in defeat.

He could just hear her exhale and the ,,Thank you Acacius” before she walked next to him to the back where it was a little quieter and you could rest for a few minutes without being disturbed, the two of them sat down on one of the couches and he heard her giggle.

,,What amuses you? “ he asked and took a bite of the grapes as he looked at her her beauty had not faded for a moment ,,My warrior has not changed still strong and willing” she returned and took one of the berries before bringing it to his lips the same sweetness the same beautiful moment as he tasted the berry and sighed.

She took from the berry herself a pleasant sigh also came from her before he let his hand wander over hers, rough hands over gentle strokes, up her arm and he stopped at her golden bangle when he saw the engraved swords and stroked it, feeling the handiwork.

,,I made it last summer when you were away, a reminder of you” she said more quietly suddenly almost sentimental and he put his hand to her cheek gently stroking it seeing her lean against it ,,I'm not leaving you again I'm staying with you" he told her before they came closer and she finally felt his lips on hers again, the kiss she had been longing for and could finally have again.

He heard her voice again, felt her softness and finally could have her love with him again, even if they could only admire each other from a distance, it was the most lovely thing they could finally have here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Geta

The palace was his home, the sun illuminating him through the corridors and windows seemed to give him the power of gods as his servants dressed him in his new toga, the golden rings on his fingers new creations just for the festivities held.

Festivities he had organized with his brother who was already running around again, looking for amusement, but Geta, even if the younger one, was looking for something completely different at this party, looking for someone he had once met.

In his position he was constantly surrounded by people from men, women, whores, merchants and others but none of them he paid attention to as much as her, this pretty estall who had appeared in the palace as a painter for the royal royal chambers and shrines.

It was a craft that could have been done by anyone else, but when he looked at her there was this expression of confidence and strength… Geta had quickly realized that he wanted this expression for himself, this strength at his side.

Which is why he had sent her a personal message that she should come to the Colloseum presentation, even if she was not a noblewoman, she was his honored guest and this was something no one could refuse the Emperor.

He was all the more excited when he stepped out onto the stage with Caracalla and cheers awaited her, his dark eyes searching darkly for her in the shadows of the stage and the flower almost trying to hide.

She had no golden toga, no dark red one it was a simple white with a few yellowish accents and you could almost have mistaken her for a servant if it wasn't for a pair of golden rings on her fingers with precious stones sticking out I knew you would wear them it went through his mind as his gaze met hers and she gave a brief smile of praise before he stood next to his brother and let his voice introduce the spectacle.

But even though the first few fights still piqued some of his interest, he soon found himself turning around to look at her as she seemed rather bored by the spectacle and didn't care for the brutality, but she hid it in an interested hold of her hands playing with the rings and he smirked as she looked to him, probably feeling caught in the reassurance.

Geta took advantage of this as he rose from his chair, ignoring the questioning look from his brother who seemed to want to continue enjoying himself, ,,It's a pleasure that you accepted my invitation and that you're wearing such a pretty ring,” he said to her as he stood in front of her, looking down at her and she rose hastily.

They had hardly exchanged words in the last few days, it had been mostly sarcastic and short answers but underneath that façade there seemed to be more between them as if he was fighting his own battle over a lone flower, ,,Pretty gems they are thank you my Emperor” she replied and awkwardly took his hand feeling her warmth as he led her beside him away from the guests.

To the back where he hoped to find some peace and quiet or at least where he could look at her for himself, just have her to himself, ,,I ask that such an artist may simply call me Geta but only you” he insisted and took one of the sweet lemon tarts and held it in front of her as she held one she had never really eaten such deliciousness before she took a bite and he laughed contentedly looking at her as she tasted it and she smiled and looked at him happily.

His hand was just about to touch her when the tent flaps were torn open and he heard a familiar voice, ,,Brother! The rhinoceros should be here any minute!” Caracalla shouted and reached for his brother, whose nerves were almost at the end again, as much as he appreciated Caracalla as a brother, he hated him at the same time. Turning to him, he pulled him towards the entrance of the tent-

,,I'll take care of my lady a personal matter go see the damn rhino alone Caracalla" he snarled calmly his gaze full of annoyance and even though he knew they could have watched it together he wanted to have her to himself.

He knew his brother well enough that the older one had also looked at the painter several times and it wasn't looks of admiration, it was looks of the same hidden kindness, ,,Go now,” he said the last words and closed the tent to turn back to her seeing how she didn't quite know whether to laugh or be confused.

Grabbing a lemon tartlet himself and taking a bite, he was still feeling angry with himself and his brother when he suddenly felt her hand on his and looked at her and saw the strength in her eyes, ,,Such a strong leader for Rome the pictures and mosaics in your chamber let your actions speak,” she admitted and grabbed his tartlet from his hand to take a bite.

His surprise quickly turned to excitement as his hand went to hers, he brought the rings to his lips and blew a few kisses on them before taking her side and pulling her into a surprise kiss.

Feeling her tense up a little overwhelmed at first, but not letting go of the strength she finally had, she relaxed against him and returned the kiss as the muffled fighting and screaming didn't reach the couple as they finally had a moment alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Caracalla

There was no greater amusement for the older of the two emperors than amusement; a life without pleasure and amusement is something he did not want, which is why the bigger the celebration, the bigger the victory and the bigger the fights in the Colosseum would be, which were held for everyone so that everyone could finally enjoy themselves.

Caracalla, however bored he sometimes was, was so grateful to his brother for always seemingly planning something new, a plan that was better than the last and a worship that was only surpassed by Marcus Acacius, a man the blond hoped to see today to show him his admiration and hope to hear about the war stories.

But most of all she would be with Marcus, his personal servant, not a whore or even a wife. Caracalla had put too much trust in his own palace spies. It seemed to be a purely friendly relationship, and yet he was the emperor. Whatever he wanted for his pleasure should and would not be denied him.

Nobody would take what he wanted from him, not even a war hero and military leader like Acacius. Which is why he was all the more nervous and excited when the fighting almost started, standing next to his younger, better brother, who just gave him a sidelong glance, ,,It's going to be fun,” Caracall heard himself giggle to himself.

He was too excited to the armbands clicking and felt the brief pressure on his shoulder as Geta tried to calm his brother for the appearance of the two deities.

It helped a little before they finally stepped out onto the stage, dressed in golden robes that distinguished them both. But as he walked down the aisle, he saw her standing in a corner behind her 'master's' seat.

She was carrying a gold tray with a pair of drinks on it, but at the moment Caracalla had no choice but to give her only a fleeting glance and hope that she had seen him, which she surely had, he hoped.

Delivering his own speech, imitating his brother's gestures before they both sat down on their thrones and let the games begin, he forgot his worries for a moment as he got involved in what was happening in front of him.

His grin and laughter could be heard and seen. The amusement finally returned when he cheered with him, clung to his armrest and cheered at victories and defeats until he saw the gold flashing again in the corner of his eye, took his gaze away from the spectacle in front of him for a moment and looked behind him.

She was standing there, dressed in simple clothes, without gold and without the amusement. And yet he felt the need to talk to her, knew that she had something that did him good, that she could calm him down and take him away from all the thinking.

Even if it was only once when they were invited to a ceremony at Marcus' house, a simple meal, he had seen her and his hasty manner had once again caused him more trouble than he wanted, but she was the only one who hadn't laughed at him when Geta took over the conversation again to spare his brother further shame… she was the only one who took him seriously.

Rising and ignoring the questioning look of Geta, Caracalla went over to her, who was about to refill the goblets, and was startled when he appeared next to her. ,,Don't be, it's me, my dear,” he said, chuckling as he held the almost-tipped-over carafe and put it back in place, took the took the tray from her and took over her task.

,,Concentrating is good…even if you scared me, my Emperor,” she spoke softly and seemed to relax a little, at least when she was with him, when they could both just relax without someone always wanting something from her.

Focusing on pouring, he saw out of the corner of his eye how she smiled at him, let her fingers glide over his skin, warmth meeting warmth, and she said calmly, ,,You may address me by my name,” and gave her a wink before he put the last cup back on the table, saw how flattered she was by this and how the two of them were just about to in a discussion when he saw Marcus get up and come over to them.

,,If you don't mind, my Emperor Caracalla, I would like my servant back" caracalla saw how her gaze took hold of the tray and she returned to Acacius' place with a slight bow. This time, however, the blonde would not admit defeat. He would demonstrate his own power in front of the greatest general and his brother.

,,I do mind, Acacius, very much, I am the emperor and I can do whatever I want and not even you can deny me her!,” he said loudly and tapped the gilded armor of the older man with his fingers, which at first seemed to confuse him, then annoyed him, and then puzzled him.

Before he pushed past Marcus and gave him a warning look, and went to her, ,,Come here,” he said, holding out his hand. His tone, however, was gentle.

His anger and She picked herself up from the floor and went over to Marcus, who probably gave her a look that made Caracalla follow her before she put down the tray and hastily took his hand, squeezing it, and he gave her a brief hug. He suddenly kissed her on the cheek and giggled nervously before pulling her with him to his seat.

The small throne was large enough for two and he sat down next to her.

,,My guest of honor!” he announced and held out his hand to her. He tried to make her as comfortable as possible when he finally heard her laugh and enjoy herself and she wrapped her arms around him.

,,Thank you… Caracalla,” she said and gave him a kiss on the cheek before she leaned lightly against him and the blonde put his arm around her and at his side the two of them could finally enjoy themselves together without anyone ruining it and the Colosseum was the amusement they would finally enjoy together for all time.

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#gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #marcus acacius #marcus acacius x reader #emperor geta #emperor geta x reader #emperor caracalla #emperor caracalla x reader #male x female #reader is female

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