#and that i work here now so i'm very immersed in it but also i'm not out here spending tons of money on pins and ears and shit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

franklysainz · 2 months

Text

LOST IN THE PADDOCK.

MV1 X FEM!READER

summary getting lost in the paddock and bumping into the current world champion was definitely not on your bingo card.

cw amara is the only oc, no use of y/n. this is my first time writing rpf since middle school, so bear with me. ALSO, this is a work of fiction: i don't know these people irl, i don't know how they act. NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER.

face claims girls on pinterest but you can obviously disregard them, and imagine whoever you want.

masterlist | taglist

—

"Ah, fuck," you mumble to yourself, panickedly walking away from the direction you came from while also looking for your best friend.

You call her name a few times in hopes of her popping her head out of the Ferrari building's corner but to no avail. The group and guides you had been with are nowhere to be found, and you have to avoid bumping into employees wearing the entire rainbow as they hurry around you.

You curse the moment you decided to enter the giveaway for those tickets. Although you weren't a Formula One fan, simply because you never fully listened to Amara's ramblings and analysis, when you stumbled across a giveaway of otherwise very expensive tickets, you didn't hesitate to enter it. Despite entering for her, you kept it a secret. The list of entries was long, and the odds were not in your favour, so you didn't want to get her hopes up. You couldn't contain the bubbling excitement when you got the e-mail verifying your win for two Paddock Club tickets for the Spanish Grand Prix.

After announcing it to your obsessed-with-cars best friend, you decided to make it a five-day trip, planning to sightsee Barcelona before the race weekend and spend a free day after it. The first day had been great, albeit tiring, but you had woken up the next day buzzing with anticipation to walk around the paddock. You were the assigned photographer, as you knew Amara would want to listen to everything the guide said. You were content with taking pictures of the place and her.

Until now. You were definitely not happy with being the camera guy. Because of that, you'd just lost your group in the middle of God-knows-where, with no idea where the building you came from was. So immersed in your grumbling and reading the map on your phone- you collide with someone. Your phone and water bottle slip from your fingers, and the tote bag slips from your shoulder to your elbow. You hiss at the sudden weight shift.

The smell of rich cologne enters your nostrils, but you don't dare look up. Your cheeks burn. "Sorry." You bend down to grab your things.

The man seems to have the same idea, as seconds later, he's on his knees and gathering his things before you can reach them. "No, it's alright! I wasn't looking where I was going."

He extends his full hands with a smile, and you return a sheepish one before grabbing your things. You take a second to look at him. He wears a Red Bull cap and T-shirt, looking like everyone who hurriedly passed you with papers and phones in their hands. I should ask him for directions. He looks like he knows the place.

"Uh...Is there any way you saw a group of people with guides walking around here? I'm supposed to be with them, but I kinda lost them." You lift the camera, further explaining why you're separated from them.

He can't help but chuckle at your flushed cheeks. "Unfortunately, no," he pauses. "Are you here for the weekend?" You nod. "Haven't they given you a map, then? They usually do, to avoid people getting lost."

You show him your phone. Your fingers brush as he pulls it closer to look at the map. "Yeah, they have. But I can't figure it out. Kind of my first time coming to something like this."

He looks at you briefly before returning his gaze to the phone. "Really?" He sounds surprised. He shouldn't.

You looked out of place compared to the rich-as-fuck members of your group. You had no idea how people dressed for these occasions. Even Amara didn't really know what to pack, so you both agreed to wear comfortable clothes. With the race being during June and in Spain, you would rather be comfortable than sweaty. The only thing tying you to the group was the Paddock Club pass you wore around your neck.

"My best friend is really into this. Loves the sport. I won us the tickets, but I'm barely grasping the basics." You laugh, and he joins. You like the way his eyes crease when he smiles wide.

"Oh, you're the ones that won the tickets! Someone told me about that, I think. Congrats!" You thank him. "How's your weekend so far?"

You shrug. "T'was really fun. Until I got lost while taking pictures of the Ferrari building." He snorts.

Leaning next to him, you try to follow his finger as he scrolls around the zoomed-in map. "You figured it out yet?"

"I think I have, yeah." He shows you the phone. "We're here. The garages are right there. You'll be watching the race on the floor above them." You nod, slowly grasping your surroundings. Turns out it's easier to figure it out when you're not panicking and a handsome stranger is helping you. "You got it?"

You flash a bright smile. "Yeah, actually, I think I do!" You look at him. "Thank you!"

He shrugs. "No problem. I know it's easy to get lost, especially with so many people running around."

"Still. Thank you. You probably have to be somewhere, and I took up a lot of your time." You step back, turning in the direction he'd shown you.

"Don't worry about it." He fixes his hair under the cap.

"Thanks again." You wave and turn to leave.

"Hey, I forgot to ask you." You turn, confused. "What team are you supporting tomorrow?"

Oh, shit.

It's like a deer caught in headlights situation. You suddenly forget all ten names of the racing teams, desperately racking your brain for an answer. You swear you know all ten.

"Uh..." you nervously clench and unclench your water bottle. "Ferrari?" It's more of a question rather than a statement.

He laughs, and your cheeks return to their warm state. Bad answer?

"Ferrari?" He asks as if saying really? You shrug, and he huffs a laugh.

"I told you I'm not good at this!"

You hear a shout and simultaneously turn to see a man in a Red Bull shirt beckoning him over.

"I have to go. But you should watch out for the Red Bulls. I hear they got the better cars!" He winks and waves before walking away from you.

You roll your eyes and smile wide on your lips. Of course, he'd tell you to cheer for his team. The back of your hand touches your cheek. It's incredibly warm. You blame it on the hot weather.

—

"I'm telling you, mate! She had no idea who I was!"

Lando rolls his eyes. "And I'm telling you there's no way. Your face is plastered everywhere."

It's Charles's turn to roll his eyes. "Or maybe she was more worried about finding a way back than asking for pictures."

"Yeah, maybe she was being polite. Didn't want to attract any attention to you." Albon adds.

Max shrugs. "I don't know."

"Was she pretty?" Oscar elbows Lando's ribs, as the latter can't contain his giggle.

Max's neck flushes. He shrugs again. "Yeah, I guess."

"Ohhhhh!" George and Lando pat him on the back teasingly, and Charles laughs at Max's expression.

Before they can tease him about this mystery girl more, a woman wearing a headset informs them they have to part ways and get ready for qualifying.

—

"And Fernando was so bloody nice, too! He was more than happy to sign the cap for you!" Amara waved her hands excitedly as she recounted everything you missed while lost.

You sat near the windows overlooking the pits, watching as the teams got their cars ready for qualifying, far away from the TVs and the crowded tables, not wanting to converse with anyone but your best friend. You chewed on your extremely expensive pasta, intently listening to her meet-up with some of the drivers.

"I can't believe you met the only driver I know," you whined, lips pouting sadly.

"I swear I didn't realise you were gone until they stopped us to greet the drivers. I was fully into that tyre explanation the guide was giving."

"Gee, thanks." You smile, giving her the middle finger.

"Oh, you know I don't mean it like that. Without you, I wouldn't even be doing the stuff we did today." Amara pulls on your middle finger, and you both giggle.

"So, tell me what you did when you were alone," she urges, sipping her drink.

"You mean when you left me wandering like I was looking for my mother?" She gives you a pointed look. You shrug. "I stopped a Red Bull guy to give me directions. He was helpful and cute. Also took some pictures while I was making my way back here."

"Oh, was he a mechanic or what?"

"I don't know. Didn't catch his name." You smile as you recount his advice. "He told me to look out for the Red Bulls because they have fast cars."

"Well, he's not wrong."

You finish your food and drinks, chatting until qualifying is about to begin. You sit on the balcony, watching the cars drive on the track. You get settled, watching the small screen in front of you, commentary loud in the headset you wear. Qualifying goes by quickly, with Amara explaining things you don't understand and you nodding along.

It's no surprise—in Amara's words—that Max Verstappen came first in his Red Bull. He's the one dominating this season, after all. Second comes Carlos Sainz, and third place takes Lando Norris. Your best friend cheers a little more for him. You shoot her a look, and she just shrugs. "What? He's fast, and he's handsome." You laugh.

You decide to leave before others, not stick around for post-qualifying interviews. Although there's a great chance you can catch drivers, take pictures and get them to sign autographs, you're both far too exhausted to stay. There's always tomorrow, Amara says, and you agree.

You're looking through the Uber app to find a car available to take you back to your hotel when you hear Amara all but screech beside you. You look up, watching as she runs towards a wall decorated with a gigantic poster of three drivers. You recognise Lewis Hamilton and Charles Leclerc and...Oh, shit.

"Can you take a picture here," she calls your name pleadingly.

Your eyes are wide and glued to the tall poster, even as you pull the camera up to your face. You snap a couple of pictures before Amara walks back to you. Her wide smile falters as she watches you stare at the poster intensely. You rack your brain for his name and know that you should know it. Amara has mentioned it before, but you just can't put your finger on it. He's in Red Bull, so it's either Checo Perez or—

"Is that Verstappen?" You point to him.

"Yep. Two-time world champion." Amara looks at the poster and then back at you, eyebrows furrowed. "Why are you looking at him like that?"

"He's the guy from earlier."

"What?!"

—

yourusername

liked by amaraiscool, yourmom, and 167 others.

tagged amaraiscool

yourusername chatted with a guy today, turns out he's the current world champion.

view all comments

amaraiscool i can't believe you met max verstappen

> yourusername amaraiscool i cant believe you let me get lost

amaraiscool and i can't believe you didnt recognise him.

> yourusername amaraiscool hes cuter in person, too bad you didn't get to see him :))

yourfriend1 THE DRESS IS SO CUTE, AMARA WTF DROP THE STORE!!!!!!

liked by yourusername

yourfriend2 johns freaking out rn lol

> yourusername yourfriend2 AW, i bet hes not being as dramatic as amaraiscool was when i told her :,)

> amaraiscool yourusername met THE max verstappen.

—

"You should totally text him," Amara says between bites.

She offers you a piece of chocolate, and you offer her a bewildered look. The hotel room's TV is playing a random spanish show, but with no subtitles, you can barely grasp what they're saying. Amara is scrolling on TikTok beside you.

"Text who?" You already know who.

"The two-time world champion. Duh." She rolls her eyes.

Amara hadn't stopped talking about the Max interaction since you'd pointed at his gigantic poster. The more she spoke on it, wiggling her eyebrows, the more you blushed. She had gone over a thousand scenarios, all of which you ended up hooking up with him. You had to remind her that despite his popularity, he was a stranger to you.

"I don't have his number, 'mara. I told you he just helped me find my way."

She flicks your forehead. "That's what Insta is for!"

"No."

"But why!?" Amara whines in your ear loudly, like a child when you take their candy away.

"It's weird! He's cute and all," you sit up, pointing your finger up," but he doesn't know my name," you put another one up, "he'll think I'm creepy," you point a third one, "and that is if he sees the requested message."

"Uh, you're ruining my scenario-building process."

"That's what Tumblr is for. Leave my quiet, boring life out of this." You dramatically sigh.

"Isn't that how all fanfiction starts? Boring and quiet life turned upside down?" Amara tilts her head.

"I don't know, 'ave never read any." You shrug, lips pursing.

She huffs a laugh, and you hold in yours. "Liar."

There's a pause. You think over Amara's suggestion. Max Verstappen is cute. And it wouldn't hurt to try and get his number. You'd never see him again after this weekend. And the worst he could say is: "Security, please get her out of here!"

What the fuck am I thinking? He's a literal superstar. Me bumping into him was a one-time thing.

Ah, fuck it. It's not the end of the world.

"You know what?" Amara turns to look at you. "If I get the chance tomorrow, I'll talk to him. Try and get his number."

Her eyes almost pop out of their sockets. "What?"

"I mean, I'm never seeing again? Right? It could go either way. He doesn't call for security to escort me like I'm crazy fangirl, or he does, and we pray no cameras recorded the moment."

Amara shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant, but she can barely hold her wide smile. "Sounds like a plan to me."

"Not much of a plan. I'm just indulging in your delusions."

You share a laugh before you fall back in bed beside her. You shuffle closer to your best friend's side, eager to watch the TikTok edit she is staring intensely at.

"Oh, look, it's your future boyfriend!"

"Shut up."

1K notes · View notes

randomshyperson · 6 months

Text

Sanctify - Cult Leader!Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Kinktober #06

Summary: After your worst semester at NYU, your Aunt Agatha convinces you to join the Children of Chaos as an alternative, and very expensive form of therapy. Leaving the cult becomes a very difficult task when you develop an unexpected affection for their leader.

Warnings: (+18), dom!wanda and brat!reader, rough smut, face-fucking, power dynamics, brat taming (ish), praising, lots of tension and teasing, definitely blasphemous on some levels, a lot of plot, mentions of past toxic relationship, unspecified age gap. | Words: 7.900k

A/N-> I’ve been dying to write something about Cult Leader Wanda since I watched the second season of Yellowjackets and became obsessed with Lottie Matthews, so while writing this, I was picturing Lottie’s cult to be fair. I also like how I ended this, as it makes it possible to turn it into a series. Good reading!

General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

Although the movement of the car brought a gentle breeze through the window, the weather was hot enough to actually make thinking painful. In an attempt to relieve the temperature a little, and perhaps escape Aunt Aggie's provocative reminiscences about the long journey and the events that made this trip necessary in the first place, you put your arm on the door, and propped your chin up, your face on the safety edge outside the window.

New York had been out of sight for hours and had given way to countless trees and a plantation further and further away. You figured it wouldn't take long for the radio signal to stop working, but to your pleasant surprise, the soft melody of cassette tapes hidden in the glove compartment by Nicholas were picked up once that happened.

Your cousin had grown up over the summer - His still youthful appearance now featured neatly cut curly hair and reading glasses that he often hung on the collar of his shirt. When younger, it was common to hear how much he resembled Sir. Scratch, his scumbag father in the words of Agatha and the other adults, not yours - but over time, he looked much more like his mother.

Nick met your gaze through the rearview mirror and gave you an assuring smile. You didn't reciprocate, but not because you were upset. Just because you were distracted by the huge sign coming around the next corner.

"Oh, boy, I've missed this place." Agatha commented with a nostalgic sigh, as soon as she noticed the entrance plaque. She slowed down enough that the wind wasn't enough anymore, so you returned to your original position with a low snort.

"There's still time to turn around." You muttered, getting a warning look from the older woman.

She leaned over, without answering you, to grab something from the open glove compartment. You pushed your hair back as a pamphlet was dropped into your lap.

"I know you hated the idea, but you need to trust your elders for once in your life, darling." Agatha began, as you grimaced at the crumpled paper. The title Children of Chaos was painted in red, but it was faded in several places. "The 70s were the apex for this place, I had a lot of fun here. It's such a unique experience, connecting with nature and the chaos that is part of us all."

Nick chuckled through his nose. "Mom, don't start your witch thing again, you'll scare her." Mocked your cousin from the passenger seat, but Agatha waved him off.

"She'll thank me when she gets there, I'm sure."

But you didn't do that. When the car finally came to a stop, and what looked more like a fancy farm merged with the forest took over your vision, all you did was crumple the Immersive Community pamphlet into your pocket and throw your old backpack over your shoulder.

Aunt Aggie and your cousin hugged you tightly, saying they were going to write, but they couldn't get past the reception desk since they weren’t part of the program. You saw Agatha take your mom’s borrowed credit card out of her purse to start your so-called treatment, and the last goodbyes left your tongue before one of the tutors started the tour of the place.

In between presenting a large number of different huts that served as dormitories and classrooms for the most diverse activities - painting, handicrafts or poetry were the ones you memorized - Mr. Emil Blonsky also took the time to welcome you, emphasizing how incredible the community was and how lucky anyone was to be there. You bit your tongue to keep from telling him that only those with money could.

Finally, Blonsky showed you the stables and greenhouses on the edge of the property, and on the way back to the rest of the huts, you noticed the path up the hill.

"And what's up there?"

The man stopped walking with a small smile. He was wearing clothes very similar to those of the other people you'd seen on the tour, the difference being a golden necklace with a strange symbol that was hidden by the movement of his loosely buttoned shirt.

"We must not go up there without permission." He begins, although he's smiling, there's something in his gaze that says this rule cannot be disrespected. " The Prophetess' Retreat is a sacred place of peace and reflection."

You look back at the hut at the bottom of the mountain, far enough away that you can't make out the decorations on the balcony, but still beautiful and quiet, high enough to make it look like the prophet had her own little piece of heaven.

"So, no bothering the boss without asking? Got it." You retort, getting a chuckle from the other at the summary. He starts walking again along the path towards the general area, but you can't help the curiosity burning in your chest. "About this prophet, will she be isolated up there or will I get a chance to meet her?"

Blonsky walks up beside you, and looks you in the eye to say; "You'll meet her when it's time to meet her, not early and not late."

You don't know what to say to that, everything here is so theatrical in a way. Mystical, you might say. It suits Aunt Aggie so well, that it's not hard to imagine her here, dancing to the midnight moon and talking to the trees. She already does that in New York, it should have been much simpler in the middle of the forest.

"Come, child. You must start the cleaning process soon." Announces the man as he picks up the pace on the trail. With a sigh, you decide not to contradict him by saying that you bathed before coming, thank you.

It was soon revealed that the cleansing process really meant a bath - the colleagues around you who helped you laughed when you joked that it was a strange way of saying that someone stinks, before clarifying that it was nothing of the sort. The Cleansing Process was a bath of salts and herbs, in a tub of stones and some kind of botanical baptism, the latter of which only members who had completed thirteen full moons could take part in. You would be invited to the baptism with the prophet's blessing, but there was still a long way to go.

Blonsky handed your uniforms, and explained the last rules before leaving you alone, or almost, since your hut was shared with six other people, and despite this, it seemed very comfortable and organized. There were bunk beds and private bathroom spaces, and at least three spacious shelves for each. The latter wouldn't be of much use to you, since you'd brought almost nothing and the vast majority of your belongings had been left at NYU. Just thinking about that place gave you a terrible stomach ache: You would have skipped dinner, but the mere suggestion of not attending made one of your colleagues frown in concern and repeat the rules, so you ended up giving that up.

The routine that followed was calm: it didn't surprise you that the new members were responsible for the hardest tasks, and it didn't bother you either. You were never afraid of hard work, and keeping your hands busy also helped to calm your mind, so it was a win-win. Besides, even if you didn't get the jobs nobody wanted, all veterans had chores. There was some rule about the amount of service time and dedication being rewarded, so those senior members could choose what they wanted to do first.

You didn't have to worry about this anyway: you would do what you had to do because, after all, the agreement was to stay here only for the summer. However, with each passing day away from exams, traffic, and New York's typical filth, it became harder to imagine leaving the Children of Chaos and their strange harmony and kindness.

After three weeks in the group, you learned to knit. You also earned the privilege of mail when you showed up for all your appointments without delay and decided to check the items in the privacy of your cabin during the last hour of prayer.

Since you hadn't yet found your faith or received your calling or whatever weird way Blonsky explained this, you barely joined in the prayer sessions. This evening, excited to receive news from home, was no different.

Aunt Aggie wrote about the store doing well and mentioned your mother, who didn't write to you with more than vague words about hoping you'd feel better soon. The best present was hidden in Nicholas' letter about the university being a sack without his favorite cousin. Wrapped in silk and next to a lighter.

You haven't earned the right to write outside yet - something about a month in isolation to accomplish. So you just clutched the items to your chest and wished your cousin knew how grateful you were.

Your initial intention was to save the weed for some more stressful day - which was rare in the leisurely pace of this place - but the last letter made you consider using it all that night.

The recipient's perfect handwriting, and the address you knew by heart. You didn't even open the item, you put it away in your drawer and stood up with the weed hidden in your pants pocket.

The common area was empty, as the vast majority of your colleagues were praying. You stepped up to one of the bonfires and threw the unopened letter into the flames, without hesitation and without caring to see it burn. You turned on your heels and continued along the trail, heading for one of the few more secluded spots you had discovered during the hours of exploring between tasks.

The rules were clear about the prophet's hut but said nothing about the road towards it. And since apparently everyone there was afraid of upsetting the boss, that spot was always empty and the perfect place to smoke in hiding.

You leaned against a tree, curled up and lit the weed, and tried to keep away all the painful memories about last semester that the damn letter had brought up.

You were halfway through a joint when you heard a voice at the end of the trail next to you.

"Good evening, Y/N."

"Jesus fucking Christ." You gasped, jumping with fright and almost dropping the blunt to the ground. You looked sideways abruptly, imagining that you were hallucinating because of the weed, and were almost sure that you were when the words escaped you due to the apparition in front of you. The most beautiful woman you've ever seen in your life. Instead of a uniform, she wore a loose dark wine dress that hugged her curves perfectly; her long red hair cascaded down her shoulders and back and her emerald eyes shone curiously in your direction. The dim light from the fire lamps scattered along the trail and the moon really made the woman look like an angel.

You coughed awkwardly. "Sorry, you scared me." You clarified, the cigarette hidden behind your back a stupid attempt to mask what you were doing. Sure enough, your pupils were dilated, and it was very easy to see the smoke. So, as soon as you tried to hide it, you gave up, offering the woman an awkward chuckle and gesturing the cigarette gently. "Don't tell on me."

There was a soft pause, which you couldn't tell from the intoxication in your system. The woman watched for a moment as the charming gesture of bringing the cigarette to the smile formed on your lips and blew the smoke into the starry sky with your neck slightly stretched. Your mind seemed to clear, and before the woman could speak, you grimaced. "Wait, didn't you just say my name? How..?"

She smiled, folding her hands in front of her body. "It was premeditated that we met today, of course. I'm Wanda."

You've heard her name before, in conversation circles and in advertisements about her heavenliness hanging around.

"Shit." It was your natural reaction, which made her laugh softly, and it must have been the weed's fault that the sound echoed in your mind and made your body shudder.

"Don't worry, I won't snitch on you." She assures you with an easy smile playing on her lips, and you swallow dry, completely at a loss.

"Thanks... but I thought you were the boss." You mumble, and Wanda makes a funny expression, like a false realization.

"Oh, you're right." She murmurs amusedly. "I think I can let this one slide if you'll share it with me."

"Fuck, of course, here." Your limbs feel strange, almost too heavy to move around her. You awkwardly hand her the cigarette, certain that your face is flushed. Hell, the last time you were this clumsy was last semester, with-

"You swear a lot." Wanda's comment pulls you out of your daze. She takes a long drag before adding: "Especially for a Christian."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "My father's a Christian, not me." You retort, and end up grimacing. "And how do you know-"

"This is a very exclusive program, sweetheart." Wanda cuts you off again, the cigarette between her fingers but her gaze is completely focused on your face. "Having a lot of money or being someone's niece isn't enough to guarantee you a spot, but a good letter of recommendation might. And Agatha wrote me almost everything about you, except the reason for rushing to get you here before the next recruitment period."

The sentence was an invitation for you to speak, but you didn't fall for the bait. On the contrary, you looked away with tense shoulders, and Wanda didn't press. At least, not now. She took another drag before commenting more softly:

"We have general meetings every Wednesday. We encourage members to open up."

You grimace softly. "Group therapy isn't my thing."

But Wanda smiles lopsidedly, giving you back the joint. " Neither is nice weed." She retorts a little provocatively, attracting your attention. "If you want to try something new, show up next week. And if you want to try something good, you should try the weed from our greenhouse. It won't taste like crushed dirt." Adjusting her hair around her shoulders, she offers you a wink. "Have a good night, darling."

You think about the color of her eyes for the rest of the night.

-&-

Sooner than you'd expect, you'll discover that Wanda isn't the type to let things slide. Far from it, she notices everything, especially those who are being too slack and prone to not following the teachings of the Children of Chaos, possibly ruining their record of total efficiency or something.

She puts an end to your plans for a quiet summer, trying to go unnoticed among the countless other followers just as abruptly as she left her meditation hut. Wanda seems to appear at every moment that you consider escaping from your commitments - it even occurs to you that she has a particular interest in watching you, but the idea sounds so absurd that you push it away while forcing a polite smile before returning to your duties.

Less than two weeks after you met, you finally stopped avoiding Group Therapy and showed up on time to join the session. The presence of Wanda, in a loose dark purple dress and her red hair tied up in a neat braid, makes you almost give up, convinced that you couldn't say anything without stuttering in the presence of such a stunning woman.

But she offers a gentle smile, opening her arms softly. "Come along, darling, you're just in time." She greets and you stumble towards a corner in the background, begging the gods that you can attend in silence this time.

It doesn't seem so difficult when it's other people doing it. A young man with whom you've already shared the task of looking after the stables spoke of the frustrations of returning from enforced service with a missing limb, and how the support he didn't get from the government and family members, he found here. Bucky received a finger-snapping applause - something that was explained to you as a way to avoid triggers on the countless ex-combatants or victims of post-traumatic stress that make up the crowd - before giving his turn to another ex-military woman, Carol Danvers.

More stories were shared until Wanda's gaze fell on your slumped figure and she called your name. All the attention in the room fell on you too, and you chuckled awkwardly.

"Thanks, but I'm not good at public speaking." You retorted, but Wanda, with her hands folded over her stomach, gave you a gentle smile.

"Don't worry about it, dear, this is a no-judgment zone." She says, but you make no mention of getting up, and her gaze becomes more insistent. "It's important that we all make an effort to be present at these exercises. We encourage participation around here. Come along, dear, please." And she smiled so kindly that you could only trust her.

The group offered a small chorus of encouragement, and before you knew it, you were a few steps away from the redhead, who held out her hands for your wrists.

"I want you to take a deep breath and close your eyes." Wanda guided, her melodic voice bringing goose bumps all over your body. "Turn all your attention inward. And tell me, is there anything in there that you'd like to share with the group?"

The memories of last semester hit you full force. But Wanda massages your wrists and it feels as if she can calm down the whole storm inside of you.

You sigh, before opening your eyes. "I... I don't know where to start." Your whisper is met by another chorus of support from the members, who retort that you're safe. Wanda releases your wrists to sit with the others, and you try not to be so self-conscious while you're in the spotlight. "I think I can share with you the reason why I'm here." You declare a moment later, taking another deep breath.

Bucky gives you an encouraging smile, mimicking that of the people around him, and you swallow.

"I don't have a history of fighting and overcoming war or any illnesses, so I'm sorry to disappoint anyone." You mumble, receiving confused looks.

The former sergeant assures you: "No problem competes with another. All our pains have their importance." And it seems to be something that has already been repeated here a few times because everyone shakes their heads in agreement.

You scratch the back of your head awkwardly. "Right... well, I won't beat around the bush. A month ago, when I was first enrolled here, I had just been kicked out of my house. Well, it wasn't exactly my house anymore, because I'd been living on campus for about three years, but I think you get the idea." You say, laughing awkwardly at the anxiety in your chest. You try to clear your throat so that your voice doesn't come out so shaky, but only Wanda's gaze really helps to calm your nerves. "And the reason for this was a relationship that my parents, more specifically my mother, didn't approve of. To be fair, no one really approved, because, well, the person... hm, I don't think there's any other way to put it, was another woman. An older woman, and also my professor. And well, the whole thing would have been a scandal anyway, but I really let myself believe that when the worst was over, we'd be fine. Bad news, we weren't." You laugh sadly. You pause, imagining that you'll get judgmental looks, but everyone listens attentively. "For a while, I thought the worst part was afterward. When everyone knew and judged me, and how my mother freaked out, and I tried... but no. The worst part was not realizing what that love if I can call it that, was doing to me. How ill it was making me. And until I got here, learned things about myself, and managed to take a break from everything that was left behind... For a while, I really hoped to go back and fix everything, but now... damn, sometimes I don't even think about leaving this place."

The group celebrates quietly, exchanging words of encouragement. Your ears feel warm, and Wanda stands up again. "You can stay as long as you need, darling." She says, massaging your forearm. She calls someone else to speak, but doesn't miss the opportunity to whisper in your ear: "I'm proud, stay a little longer today, I want to talk to you."

And you think you haven't absorbed anything for the rest of the morning.

Eventually, the session ends, and as soon as the room is empty, Wanda turns her face towards you.

"You were brave today, sweetheart."

Your hands, busy putting the cushions away, tremble a little. But you offer her an incredulous chuckle.

"Yeah, right." It's your answer, which makes Wanda frown in curiosity. At her inquisitive silence, you sigh before clarifying: "Everyone's nice, but I know it's kind of silly that my big trauma is a break-up and not post-traumatic stress from war or something that actually matters."

Wanda presses her lips together, studying you for a moment, and you take the opportunity to put away the last of the cushions. Suddenly, she says:

"This lack of respect for your own feelings comes from parental negligence, I suppose." You turn your face away in surprise, but Wanda gives you a small smile: "James wasn't lying when he said that no pain should compete with another. We all have our internal and external battles, and we shouldn't belittle our pain. I believe we should honor it, and wear it. And here, dear, you will learn to do that." Wanda makes her way around to one of the cupboards at the back, and you watch her movements in silence, from reaching into one of the last drawers to returning to you with an item in hand. "I have an invitation for you."

She opens the box she's brought, and inside is a necklace very similar to the one the instructors wear. The main difference is the symbol, the crown that Wanda also carries on the pendant around her neck. You frown in confusion.

"What is it?"

She wraps the item between her fingers, her gaze on you. "The disciple's necklace. The last one from the current solstice."

You imitate the gesture, touching the item with the tips of your fingers. Wanda doesn't move her hand away as your fingers brush together, and you ignore your own shyness as you watch her bite her lip for a moment. "I don't understand what it means."

She licks her lips, and the movement doesn't go unnoticed by your eyes. "It means that you would be my apprentice. You would accompany me during periods of meditation, you would study my teachings closely, you would be... entirely dedicated to..."

"You?" you add, and Wanda lets out a shuddering breath, warm against your cheek. When did she get so close?

"If you wish." She whispers, and you pull away gently, your face hot but the last thread of sanity in your mind.

"I'm sure there are more experienced members dying for this position. It wouldn't be right-"

Wanda shakes her head, interrupting you. "They weren't chosen. You were." She assures you, pressing the box with the necklace against your chest. "And if it wasn't you, the place would be empty until the next solstice. You don't have to accept it, darling. It's not a summons. It's an invitation."

You sigh, holding the box against your chest. "I just... I've never done anything like this. I don't want to mess things up."

There's a bell in the distance, signaling the start of the next activities. Wanda glances outside briefly before stepping close enough to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth that makes your whole body heat up at once.

"Just listen to your instincts." She whispers, before pulling away with a small smile.

You write to Agatha about it the following evening, but you don't have the courage to seal the letter for sending. The whole conversation with Wanda seems too private to be shared in this way.

Although the woman said it was just an invitation, you could feel some pressure to make a decision, and it seems that the news had been circulating ever since one of the tutors couldn't find the box of the last chaos disciple pendant, and Wanda ended up mentioning that she had extended another invitation.

In a way, you were stalling. Between your activities and meetings, you hadn't made any decisions and you hoped that the end of the summer would force Wanda to choose someone else. But there was also the question of the new, burning feelings that had appeared since you first laid eyes on her, and which seemed to awaken every time you two were in the same environment.

The idea of departing, of leaving her behind like a closed chapter in your life, seemed absurd every passing day.

In your second month with the Chaos Children, you received a rather unusual request: take the prophet her morning drink.

The crumpled piece of paper was handed to you by one of your cabin mates: Kate Bishop. A former student, a little younger than you, who, after destroying a bell at the university, was sent here by her millionaire mother. Kate was to stay until she had balanced her irresponsible impulses and could take over the family's security empire.

She seemed a little reluctant to interrupt your concentration on cleaning the garden, but much more determined not to disappoint Wanda.

"Just give it to the kitchen staff, they'll know what to do. And prioritize, she doesn't like to wait." Said the girl, but you gave her hand a gentle tug before taking the paper.

"But why did she ask me?" you asked, but Kate had no idea and just shrugged before leaving the garden.

While the kitchen staff prepared the item, you tried to improve your appearance in the bathroom next to the lounge, wiping all the soil from the plants from under your fingers, and even what had run into your cheeks.

When you came out, there was another order on the counter and a small group of people who hadn't been there before. They didn't see you. Blonsky, accompanied by two other women you didn't know, were talking to each other.

"I bet it was Carter. She hasn't stopped talking about her private piano lessons with the Prophetess for four whole weeks." Said the first, but the other laughed quietly.

" Sharoon is a simp, that's all. Wanda wouldn't choose her after the episode with Rogers last year, she knows she can't trust her." Rebutted the other. "Besides, I would have assumed it was Bishop, after all, she already acts like a maid. Why train another when you already have one so dedicated?" The women laugh amongst themselves until they finally notice you approaching, and fall silent. Blonsky smiles, but he appears very vicious.

"Hello, miss. Wouldn't you like to have a say in who our next disciple is?" He asks you, but you shrug, moving forward in the queue in front of the canteen to grab the prophet's items that were clearly being prepared in priority.

"I don't know anything about it." That's your answer, but the shorter woman gets in your way.

"Come on, dear, it's easy." She begins with a giggle. "Every solstice, the prophetess chooses her disciples. There are 24 of them, 12 of whom will become apostles after their apprenticeship."

You grimace softly. "It's very biblical."

Blonsky chuckles. "Of course, it is, despite the multiculturalism of our group, Wanda was raised in a Jewish Christian home. You're not going to tell me you didn't know that?"

You clear your throat. "Not really. Sorry, I have to run."

But the man puts a hand in your way, only to stretch his body out on the counter and reach for some colored leaves that he crushes and drops into Wanda's glass.

"She likes it this way. I would know, I prepared many when I was her houseboy for the first few weeks here." He says, and you swallow dry, mumbling an awkward thank you before hurrying off.

The path is a little tiring, you think it makes sense of Wanda's physique if she had to climb that trail every day, and you mentally curse yourself for thinking about her body. It's not at all appropriate, honestly.

The door is open, but you knock anyway. The woman inside, wearing her typical long, loose dresses at the edge, is busy finishing a loose fringe in her hair and offers you a smile.

"Come in, dear."

You do so a little awkwardly, almost overwhelmed by the moment of entering the most private place in the whole camp. It's a beautiful cabin, you let her know, without stopping to admire the perfectly arranged surroundings. You would have thought that the privacy of this place would allow her to make some kind of personal mess, but everything is impeccably in place.

Wanda approaches to pick up the items, and the smile falters on her face at the first sip of her drink.

"Did you put... did you put maca root in this?" She asks, and your natural reaction is a short laugh.

"I didn't prepare it, Wanda."

But she doesn't smile again, her tone of voice remains the same but her attitude changes to one of false kindness. "My morning drink is an ashwagandha. I need my concentration to increase, not my libido." It really sounded like a scolding, and her attitude of handing the cup back to you, accompanied by the memory of the recent events, made your blood boil.

"Well, I'm not your fucking maid, so if it's not good, get another one downstairs, or even better, make it one yourself."

It's the first time you see any kind of fury in her gaze, hot and vibrant, and it makes something in you rouse. Your mention of leaving the cabin is prevented by her hands closing the door and trapping you against the wood.

Wanda takes a deep breath, and the gleam in her eyes changes. "Can I ask... where did this attitude come from?"

You hold the glass tightly against your body, very aware that you'll drop it if Wanda doesn't step away and let you breathe. "I just want to make things clear." You retort with a seriousness that doesn't do justice to the way your heart is racing. "I didn't come to this place to be your personal servant."

Wanda chuckles briefly, letting her gaze drop to your mouth. "Oh, of course not, darling." She whispers. "You're not the type to follow orders willingly. You'd do a terrible job."

Swallowing dryly, you retort: "And why am I here then?"

Wanda smiles innocently. "I asked you to bring my drink." It's her reply, clearly trying to tease you, and you snort impatiently.

"I bet you expected an answer. Well, I haven't made up my mind yet, so if there's nothing else, I'll just go."

Wanda moves to take the glass from you and put it on the table by the door. The next second, her hands are in yours.

"Don't be silly, of course, there's another reason." She retorts, pulling you along as she walks backward into the cabin. "I hear you love painting."

What you had assumed was her personal painting canvas is offered to you. The laugh that escapes you is shy and genuine.

"Wanda, I don't... paint anymore."

But she doesn't flinch, her hands still in yours. "I know you haven't since last semester. It was in the letter. But you've progressed so much, that I thought you could paint for me." When you don't answer, she makes such an adorable expression that your heart skips a beat. "Please?"

Wanda definitely knows how beautiful she is, and how those puppy-dog eyes can take her anywhere. You bite back a smile, agreeing, and almost forget to breathe when she jumps excitedly onto your neck, hugging it for a whole moment before letting go as if she hadn't turned you into a complete mess with one touch.

She doesn't complain about the cocktail again - instead, she drinks it entirely while you get comfortable on the painting stool, doodling for a few moments before starting to paint the only thing you could after so many months without touching a paintbrush.

It's only when the drawing is clearer on the frame that Wanda becomes restless again. Loud sighs take your attention away from the painting and towards her.

"Is something wrong?"

She smiles half-heartedly, and only now do you notice the soft color of her cheeks. "I shouldn't have ignored my own complaints and drunk that juice."

You frown in confusion, letting the brush rest next to the paints. "Was it that bad? If you want, I'll complain to the kitchen-"

Wanda chuckles, shaking her head and you have to shut up because she reaches over to push the canvas out of the way and stops right in front of you, close enough to touch.

"Remember what I said? About focus and about... my libido." She asks, and you can swallow dryly, looking up in the direction of her dilated eyes. She lets her hands rest on your shoulders, pressing the weight of her body gently into yours. "Well, I suppose you'll have to see for yourself. Hold out your hand sweetheart, no, no, down... yes, you can move my dress out of the way." Your trembling fingers brushed against her knee, and immediately obeyed the order. Slowly making your way under her dress, while Wanda bit her lip and watched you draw patterns on her thighs. Finally, your fingers reached the side of her underwear. Instead of pulling it down, you let the inks drop to the ground, and your other hand went under her dress too, repeating the same path as before while you and Wanda panted together. Your face fell forward, flush into her dress, and you pressed your nose against her, inhaling deeply the scent of arousal she exhaled so strongly.

Her hands squeezed your shoulders as yours began to pull down her panties right away. A moment later, gracefully as everything so far, she kicked the item aside and spread her legs gently so that you could slide your fingers between more easily.

You looked up the second your index finger met her warmth, gasping at the mischievous smile of the woman in front of you.

"All this time I've been here..." You started hoarsely, your fingers spreading the wetness between her folds, and enjoying the way Wanda's breath caught in her throat. "Were you this wet?"

Despite the failure of her own breathing, and the way it's harder to stand up with your intimate stimulation, Wanda gives you a mischievous look and leans her forehead against yours, her red hair making a curtain between your faces.

"I get like this every time I'm around you." She confesses, giving you a provocative tug on your lower lip that forces you to thrust inside her with more determination. Almost enough for her to lose her pose. Almost. "It's disconcerting, to be honest."

Your thumb presses down firmly on her clit, and Wanda almost buckles into you, the delicious sound that escapes her throat will be in your dreams for sure. "Well, should I apologize, high sanctity?"

She chuckles at the teasing hidden in the nickname, before leaning in completely and capturing your mouth in a fervent kiss that takes you out of orbit for a whole moment, intense enough for you to whimper into her tongue, and force her hips down into yours, practically begging her to grind your lap. Wanda's response to this is a dirty giggle mixed with a moan into your mouth.

Without breaking the kiss that turns into a much hungrier one the next second, you get to your feet, adjusting your hands to grab her thighs to pull her onto your lap and carry her around the room. Between stumbles, you press each other against the various surfaces of the room, tables, and cupboards, exchanging increasingly hot and desperate kisses, and you're pretty sure you're going to have Wanda against the bookshelf if she keeps grinding into your abdomen like that.

In a pause for breath, when she's still wedged between you and the bookcase, your mouth descends on her jaw and Wanda struggles to keep her eyes open. She whimpers shamelessly as your curious hands advance down her body, pulling her dress out of the way and leaving it barely hanging off her body for you to clasp your palms over her now-bare breasts.

Her patience for release is quickly exhausted by the precise stimulation of her breasts, your eager fingers teasing and pinching her nipples until you turn her into a whimpering mess. She gives a determined tug on the hair at the nape of your neck, forcing your face back to hers in a hard, dirty kiss that makes you shudder. She breaks it only to give an order:

"On your knees." And you groan in obedience, falling to the floor almost at once, desperately pulling her dress aside to force your face into her, now with nothing in the way. Wanda arches her back once your hot mouth finds her drenched cunt; her hands desperate for some kind of support on the shelves behind her, while her chest heaves and her hips are restless against your face.

Your hungry mouth leisurely devours her, your tongue teasing her folds, spreading her wetness around and making a mess on your face. Your closed eyes show your dedication and surrender to the task, but Wanda tugs at your hair again, trying to gain a little control back and order you to quit the teasing and fuck her the way she needs you to. Fully dilated Irises then confronts her from between her legs, and Wanda loses her breath.

"Beautiful." She panted, staring back, shamelessly grinding herself into your face. "So beautiful... fuck... on your knees for me... oh, God, detka." She struggles to compliment you, but her native language begins to escape mixed with English shortly afterward, her climax approaching. You moan contentedly at the scene, aware of the state of your own underwear from all this play. Wanda's body begins to betray her, trying to pull away so you grab her thighs with a strong grip, and one of her legs ends up over your shoulder, increasing your reach just the way she needs it to fall over the edge.

Wanda comes on your tongue, spasming against the books, and in a deep moan. You don't let her pull away, keeping her restless hips in place as you lick your way through her previous climax in search of a new one. Soon her whimpering protests at the overstimulation turn into begging, and you fail to hide the smug smile at feeling her so at your mercy for a second time.

She's so close, so close, that the Sokovian comes back to her tongue, but there's a sudden knock on the door, and all the stimulation is interrupted by your fright. Wanda gasps incredulously, losing the time to react in time due to her own lust, and having to watch you stumble away - quickly wiping her cum from your chin with the back of your hand - as she tries not to fall down on her shaking knees.

"Why the fuck did you stop?" she asks in frustration through her teeth, but you, with a very flushed face, look at her with a certain desperation.

"Wanda, there's someone at the door!" You retort as if it were a very justifiable reason to steal an orgasm from her. Wanda huffs angrily, lunging at you and ignoring your confused eyes to pull you upright by the collar of your shirt, hurriedly throwing you onto the mattress. "W-wanda, what?"

"Quiet." She cuts in, pushing your shoulders until you're lying down and following the movement of your body to straddle your lap. The person outside knocks again, and although she's pulling her off, and is still shaking from her last orgasm, Wanda manages to speak in the same tone of voice as she does every morning meeting: "What is it?"

Your protests are muffled when Wanda sits on your face, and in fact, you would have forgotten any guests if Blonsky's voice hadn't sounded in the next second.

"Good morning, Reverend, I've come to join you for today's service." Says the man, but Wanda has to bite her lip hard because you're eating her out again, somehow even better than before. "Reverend?"

Wanda shakes her head, frowning at the difficulty of maintaining a rational thought when she has your tongue inside her. "Hm, I'm not going today, Blonsky... Deliver the service in my place." She fails to sound so breathless and has to close her eyes when your hands grip her thighs tightly, holding her down.

Blonsky then sounds concerned: "Aren't you feeling well, Reverence?"

Your nose nuzzles into her clit and Wanda reaches for the headboard, a satisfied sigh escaping her. "I feel great." She murmurs back and has to take a deep breath so that the next sound that escapes her isn't a moan. "Just busy. Anything else, Blonsky?"

The man clears his throat, Wanda has to press a hand against her own mouth as you reach another right spot.

"Hm, yes, Reverend... As you know, the deadline for the selection of the disciple is coming to an end." He begins, luckily unable to hear the muffled sighs inside the room through the closed door. "I have expressed my concerns to Your Reverence about a premature choice of new members-"

Wanda snorts impatiently. "Are you really going to question my choices again, Blonsky?"

"N-no, reverend!" He defends himself quickly. "Never. I just worry that the... affinity, that Your Reverence has acquired for some new members, might affect your judgment about their vocations. The premature choice of a disciple could result in their departure from our community, and we know how the withdrawal of one of our own affects everyone..."

"Don't worry about it." Wanda cuts dry, and now, she's remarkably close to climaxing. She doesn't care about the roughness, she thrusts her hips frantically into your face, muffling your breathless moans. "Y/N is the best choice... she's... so-god... dedicated and-hm... talented-" Wanda's lucky you're quick to react too. She would have screamed to the ceiling, exposing all the inappropriate activities in the room if you hadn't grabbed her thighs and spun her on her back onto the mattress. She didn't have time to lose this orgasm by the brief interruption of your movements - your fingers took the place of your tongue when you hovered above her, and your free hand covered her mouth when you sank inside her again.

Wanda came harder than before, squeezing your fingers and wetting the bed. She clings to your body in a desperate grasp, shocked by the achievement over her body, and grateful for the muffling of her moans. You keep thrusting until she stops squirting on the sheets.

You only remember that Blonsky is still outside because he speaks again. "I'll take your word for it, Your Reverence. And I hope you've made a good choice." He says at last, the sound of his footsteps moving away is ignored by you and Wanda, who meet in a hot kiss in the next second.

Your fingers continue to thrust lightly inside her, even though Wanda shudders from the excessive stimulation. And despite this, she also controls the kiss, which slows down so that she can ask in between: "Tell me, love. Did I do it? A good choice."

You kiss her a little harder. "I still don't know... what I want... or what I should do, Wanda."

She brings one of her hands up to your wrist, stopping your movements. You open your eyes to look at her. Wanda smiles, but her eyes are very mischievous. "You think too hard when the answer is right here." She retorts, giving your hand a gentle tug. You follow her lead, and soon, you have your drenched fingers with her cum inside your mouth. Your hips move instinctively, pressing down on her, and Wanda giggles mischievously, her free hand trailing down your back to encourage the movement. "Don't you want that, baby? You can be all mine."

You suck your fingerprints clean, removing them from your mouth to support yourself on the mattress now that you're so wildly grinding your hips against Wanda's thigh. She doesn't let you indulge in the sensation, grabbing your cheek and stopping your hips with the other at your silence.

Your soft protest is ignored, and your voice is almost a pathetic plea when it comes out. "It's not fair... I was feeling so good."

"Oh, darling, I can make you feel even better, every day if you decide to stay with me." She retorts, her grip softening on your cheek. You look at her, but there is still hesitation in your gaze and Wanda wishes to replace this doubt with something else. She kisses you but pulls away when you go to increase the intensity, ignoring your protest and pushing you gently away by the shoulders. "No playing, until I have an answer."

Wanda flees - because she doesn't think she'll live up to her words if she is under you - and slips out of bed before you can grab her back. Your next long protest is muffled against the mattress because you press your face down.

Wanda giggles half-heartedly as she stands up, reaches for her dress, and tries to adjust her appearance a little. "Thank you for the sex, sweetheart, it was a very pleasant surprise, but I can't let Blonsky lead a communion, he's not good at it. And you have errands, so if you'll excuse me..." Your silence made Wanda, now dressed, look at the bed again. To her surprise, you were sitting on the mattress, hanging something around your neck.

Your gaze met hers as the disciple chain was secure on your skin. The mischief in your gaze made her swallow. Twirling the symbol between your fingers, you smiled as you asked: "So how does this work? Should I confess my sins so that you can forgive me?"

"God offers forgiveness, not me." Wanda whispers back, brazenly watching you start to unbutton your shirt, the necklace hanging in the valley of your breasts is doing things to her.

"Hm, since I'm going to be forgiven, maybe I can sin a little more..." Wanda moved on instinct, crawling onto the bed to meet you halfway like a magnet being drawn towards you.

Your foreheads touched, and she sighed against your lips. "I should punish you for this blasphemy." She says, to which you smile naughtily before sticking out your tongue to tease her lips, eliciting a low moan from her.

"Promise?" You challenge, and Wanda gets tired of wasting time.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #kinktober 2023 #marvel imagines

1K notes · View notes

purelyfiction · 2 months

Text

━◦○◦ⓢⓞ◦○◦ⓘⓣ◦○◦ⓖⓞⓔⓢ◦○◦━

NFL QB Jake 'Hangman' Seresin AU x Popstar F!Reader

Summary: NFL Quarterback Jacob Seresin is in hot water from a streak of bad decisions, just as you go through the worst public breakup of your life. With people slandering both of your reputations, your publicists hatch a plan to bring both of you back into favor and keep the heat off until spring - that is if you can keep up the facade.

Word Count: 5,334 words

Author Note: I know I have two other outstanding Top Gun fics and I swear I'm trying to get those going but I am writing what sparks joy and well.... this certainly does. || Also!! Reader's stage name is 'Celeste' with 'Este' as the nickname. So no one gets confuseddddd

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

You'd never anticipated to start the biggest year of your life absolutely gutted, yet here you are. Your boyfriend – well, ex-boyfriend, severed what you had thought to be a loving, trusting and safe relationship, rather unexpectedly on New Year's Eve. Then he'd gone to the press to relay that you were a horrible person, a terrible girlfriend, too involved in your work to even bother paying attention to anyone else. The timing couldn't be worse, since you were about to start your first ever stadium tour in the spring.

The result had been you hiding away in your little oasis that was your condo in California’s southern escape of San Diego. You’d stayed off the internet, binging TV shows that you’d been too busy to pay attention to and immersing yourself in anything you could, to erase the four year relationship you’d been splintered from. The garbage people probably wondered why there were a near dozen empty quarter pints of ice cream in your recycling bin, but that wasn’t for them to care about. At least you’d recycled them.

Now, three weeks into the new year, with your favorite Chinese on the way, you sit on your couch going over tour visuals. Your lighting engineer is rambling on the line as you hear the gate buzzer go off. You’re quick to collect your dinner as one of the others on the line gasp and quickly mute their mic. “What?” You quip, walking to your expansive kitchen and dropping the large paper bag down. You’re half paying attention when the employee brushes you off, as your hand pulls container after container of food from the magical Mary Poppins-style bag. Getting to the bottom, you grasp for a pair of chopsticks, only to find several sets of them, along with a dozen fortune cookies. You take a moment to look over your four entrees and styrofoam container of sushi. The audacity of them to think you would be sharing any of this.

Finally, you address the matter of your dramatic tech director. “What’s the deal over there Hollywood?” You chide, before your phone is ringing, leaving you to hang up the video call to answer the phone. It’s your publicist and you know better than to let her calls go unanswered.

“Check your inbox.” Her voice is frigid instead of it’s usually cheery demeanor.

“Hello to you too?” Begrudgingly, you do as she commands, finding the email she sent to you.

Jonah Carter agreed to sit down for an interview with UsWeekly, post-breakup to clear the air and to make sure no one else would fall for his ex-girlfriend's (Celeste) playful, girl-next-door-ish facade.

"At first, it felt like a dream come true," Carter, an up-and-coming actor within his own right, said almost sheepishly. "I thought she was talented and kind, but I should've known it was too good to be true."

But there's more to this pop-star than Jonah says meets the eye. In addition to the vanity and self-importance that seems to plague this generation's starlets, Este was a vindictive slob who routinely talked behind the back of even her closest friends. "It makes me wonder what she's saying about me, now, after everything I've heard her say about those who think are closest to her." The concern for others is written very clearly on the actor’s face as he speaks. When I question the songstress’ messages about authenticity, the man adjusts in his seat as he holds back a laugh.

"She'd like you to believe she writes all her own music, but I'm not sure she could write a full sentence without the help of her team," Jonah chuckled nervously into his coffee. "Sorry, that was rude. I don't want to stoop to her level." Cowed brown eyes made me wonder what else he had endured behind closed doors. It struck a chord within me.

“Why did you stay as long as you had if this was what you were facing?” I ask him. The expression of his kind features morphs into despair.

“When we first met, Celeste was someone I admired. Her compassion, her drive and her dedication to the things she valued spoke so deeply to what I did, what I still do-” he fumbles as he attempts to source the proper words, “They just… weren’t her beliefs. They were her team’s.” Jonah lets out a pained sound, “I think when we got toward the end of it, I realized that she has this way of manipulating what she says, how she acts, to make herself look good. She puts on a show, on and off the stage and you pay for it one way or another. So, I knew what she was capable of. I knew she could be that person if she really wanted to and I wanted so badly to help her see that. I eventually learned that people see what they want to see.”

God, what a load of hot garbage this was. It was a particularly rare batch, clearly it had been baking in a dumpster in the scorching sun with the lid closed. All damp, with a horrendous mix of something rotting and old crusty seaweed.

The tour was supposed to be announced on the first of the month and here your ex was selling stories (horribly narrated and mangled stories) to the press. You might as well have been kicking puppies at this point.

“Isn’t he just swell? Nothing but peak wisdom from good ol’ Jonah.” Your eyes could’ve strained themselves with how far back they rolled. Probably the only time he’d ever made them do that too.

“I’ve already called a team together to brainstorm. I don't want you to respond. Stay offline, away from all of it and don't entertain any of the discourse. Not until I have something to work with.”

“None of it is true we both know that-” You begin to laugh but she cuts you off.

“As much as I want to be on your side here, we are working to put out a fire. Your silence the last three weeks has put you at a massive disadvantage and frankly? The public eye doesn’t see you in the greatest space right now.” You know she’s right. She always is, and right now ‘Celeste’ was synonymous with ‘cynical, fake and fraudulent’. You wouldn’t be shocked if the uproar demanded you be canceled based off of this testimony.

It wasn’t all but two days later that you were called in by your PR team. Into the office in New York for the first time since before Thanksgiving. It had been a busy end of the year and now that the new one was coming in so ferociously you weren’t looking toward any of the things you once had been. This was the first time back into the light and so you had made sure that the inevitable cameras had something to look at. You’d dressed yourself in your favorites, in an effort to boost your confidence as best as you could. Putting on a show, just like you had been when things had been on the rocks with Jonah.

━◦○◦ⓐⓝⓓ◦○◦ⓐⓛⓛ◦○◦ⓣⓗⓔ◦○◦ⓟⓘⓔⓒⓔⓢ◦○◦ⓕⓐⓛⓛ◦○◦━

Getting to the office, you’re nearly trampled with the amount of people that swarm you. It’s not normally this bad - hell it’s never this bad. It isn’t until you catch sight of a football jersey and an ESPN logo that your brow furrows. Odd.

Stepping into the building, you’re pushing your sunglasses up onto your head, looking down at your ringing phone and trying to slide your coat off simultaneously. Instead, you crash right into what you think is a wall, but is instead a broad man, looking rather lost.

“Easy there, Twinkle Toes.” You guffaw and look up at the blonde man before returning your eyes toward your feet. Of course, the bedazzled statement boots on your feet call attention to themselves before the rest of the outfit can balance itself out.

“Alright, Prince Charming, you first.” You snicker before stepping out of his way and start to the elevator. Unfortunately for you, he’s apparently heading your way as well, needing access to the lift to the next floor.

“Prince Charming, huh? I mean I’ve been called worse.” His shoulders roll backwards as the elevator dings to one of the other floors. You keep your head trained forward, suddenly remembering the rule you’d been given. Stay quiet, don’t engage. And here you were giving sass to a stranger and showing up in bedazzled booties. You were really digging this grave deeper than necessary. So, instead of giving him another sassy response, you keep your eyes locked to the neon numbers as the elevator passes each floor. “Oh so, now I’m getting a cold shoulder? Darn, I was really ready to ask you all about the boots on your feet, too.” You can’t help but let your eyes move back over to the broad male, just out of the corner of your eye. His face is completely locked on you, shamelessly at that. “They expensive? They got that waxy red paint on the bottoms of ‘em?” Silently, you turn one of your feet up to give him a glimpse at the blue bottom of the shoe. “Huh, blue. That’s fun. That more expensive than the LouButton or whatever they are?” Finally the elevator reaches your floor, hopefully shutting this chatterbox up for the time being. Yet the questions continue like an immature toddler as you rise up the floors - going to the same floor nonetheless. “Hey, you’re that Celeste chick aren’t ya?”

“Yes.” You finally answer one of his questions, his face lighting up.

“Oh look at that, she cracks.” Another eye roll times well with the sound of the elevator reaching the desired floor. Instead of responding, you quickly find your way through the glass hallways and to the desired room. You are so glad to be in the presence of the familiar group, the stranger in the elevator having rattled your composure somewhat. Your manager comes in with a cup of coffee and a smile, which immediately puts one on yours.

“You didn’t have to do that!” You cheer, reaching out for it as she sits beside you.

“When you see what Rachel has come up with, you’re going to need it.” Oh. Reassuring.

You see her point when Prince Charming steps into the board room, followed by a host of men in dress clothes and suits, all matching the blue soles of your boots. Charming sits directly across from you, a hand wiggling his fingers as he waves at you. Oh good.

“Thank you everyone for coming. I know this is a very polarizing group, so before we get ahead of ourselves, I want to introduce Celeste, or Este as we all have come to call her over the years.” Awkwardly, you wave at the foreign men. They grunt and nod. You were already having doubts and not a word had been spoken on their end. “I also want to introduce Beau Simpson, public relations coordinator for the San Diego Sea Lions, Coach Natasha Trace, and Sea Lions owner, Tom Kazansky.”

Sea Lions? As in the NFL team that had been built not even three years ago but had made it to all three playoffs in their short time? The one that Jonah had ridiculed immensely when it joined the league because ‘California doesn’t need another group of inflated egos in the league’?

“I’m really feeling the love here, Rach.” Charming speaks up and the raven haired woman on the other side of the table sighs.

“This is Jacob Seresin, starting quarterback for the Sea Lions.” The coach speaks, the blonde man brushing off her introduction.

“No need for full names, Trace. Clearly we only do the stage name around here.” That was a clear jab to you if you’d ever heard it. “Hangman’s what they call me.” His hand juts across the glass, toward you. Your hands stay tucked under your biceps.

“Pleasure to meet you.” It’s passive, turning to your team leader. “Rachel. I’m not seeing a connection here.”

“Jacob is in the same pot of hot water you’re in.” Your attention moves to the similarly broad man who stands up, towering over Rachel. “We feel as though we can spin this to both of your advantages. Jake needs to stop sleeping around–”

“Easy now, Simpson.” The eldest in the room stands up and he gives you a kind smile. It’s not a farce though. You’re not entirely sure what makes it so genuine, but you smile in return of seeing him stand, despite it taking a slight bit of effort to do so. “What he means is, Jake’s professional status has changed due to the words of someone else and we’re determined to alter that. Rachel identified this and made quite the proposal.” The young woman seems all too cheery to cut off the old man.

“You’re both having relationship woes–” The raven haired woman on Jacob’s team speaks under her breath.

“Wouldn’t call them relationships.”

“And by putting you two together, we feel as though we can put you into a positive light. Let’s face it, putting two very successful, and attractive people who are already in the spotlight allows people to follow the developing love story. Este attends games, plays the WAG card, has an opportunity to be seen in the public eye more frequently and dispels the ill-spoken words that were published about her this week. Jake gets the proof that he isn’t just a love-em-and-leave-em type.” Your eyes spell out the doubt you’re feeling, looking at your team who is just as skeptical. “That’s just the beginning! Celeste is going on tour this year. Stadiums all across the country have her booked and ready for the summer. We have a captive audience already following these games to see Este and Jake together, and we get brand recognition. The conversations that will come as she gets to witness her betrothed play in a stadium she would be performing in that very summer.”

Now you see where the benefit actually is. Clearing your name while simultaneously promoting your tour in the process. Seeing stadiums you’ve booked and would hopefully sell out.

“So how are you proposing this works? We’ll need a start, an end - a story on how we met–”

“Well,” Beau settles in his seat, twisting in the desk chair as he draws in the attention of the group, “we have the major details hypothesized. Rachel and I will work with one another to get the rest of it together. For now, you two met at a New Years Eve party.”

Oh joy. Now you get to remember that bitter break-up that led you here, every time you speak about him.

The man looks like he walked out of a surfing magazine, as it were. Now, the scowl on his features paints him as a devil. Long hair, muscular arms on display as he leans into the table in front of him.

“If we don’t do this?” Jake leans back in his chair, a hand coming to fiddle with the lingering 5 o’clock shadow that he has omitted in his morning routine.

“We don’t do this and there will be a lack of support for the Sea Lions. You’ll have painted the entire team as jackasses who can’t focus to save their life, especially if you continue to party and hook up with whomever your dick has the hots for that night-” Beau has gone off the handle and Tom speaks up again.

“The point is, public favor will stay low and it will not bode well for the team. With a lack of support, we have empty seats. Empty seats translates to less viewers, then to less money and you know the song and dance. Not to mention morale for the upcoming playoffs. We need to keep the team happy, Hangman. It’s time to do something to benefit everyone.”

Jake’s expression deepens, as though he was a young child just scolded by his father for his poor behavior. Green eyes shift and face you, his hand jutting out toward you.

“I’m in.” His hand hovers. Waiting for you to join him in this grand scheme. Glancing at your own team, they look rather haunted. At this point, it was this or to hope that a long string of possible good stories and fan interactions can redeem you.

You want this to pass. And if this would make it go faster… you grab Jake’s hand firmly.

“What’s there to lose?”

━◦○◦ⓡⓘⓖⓗⓣ◦○◦ⓘⓝⓣⓞ◦○◦ⓟⓛⓐⓒⓔ◦○◦━

You went back onto social media. Posted some photos you’d taken with friends back at the beginning of the month, from the worst party of your life. The photos at least were cute and you loved the dress you’d gotten to wear. Luckily these photos were all taken prior to midnight. So there were no red eyes. No ruined mascara and glitter across your cheeks. No freezing car rides home and empty beds.

Mindlessly, you scroll through the comments.

Flameth: can still make the whole place shimmer ✨

RunTao: phony photos

Romanacent: so glad to see you’re not letting him get to you!

H_ngm_n: you’re still gonna let me borrow those boots right

It’s the last one you’d been keeping an eye out for. Boots? Looking back at the photo, you scroll through the carousel until you spot them.

The same shiny sparkly rhinestone boots you’d worn to your meeting.

Celeste: @h_ngm_n I’m a woman of my word, of course 🤗

Not even a week goes by before you’re ‘spontaneously’ at a bar in LA. Jake has been there for the last two hours, as he insisted you both show up alone and then end up leaving together. You eventually found him in the VIP section, drinking with his buddies.

You made sure to keep your distance for a few minutes - after all, his friends had no idea this was going down. The only people who knew about this little arrangement were your respective PR teams. That was it. No one else from your teams, your friends and family, absolutely no one knew what your little plan was. Maybe you should just leave. It was a verbal contract, you didn’t sign anything, you were just trying to make this work for the two of you-

The bartender pulls you from your deliberations. There is now a drink that you certainly didn’t order sitting in front of you. Well there was no going back now. Jake had likely made a show of sending over the drink and now you had to go through with this. Glancing over your shoulder, you see the jock, legs spread, arms resting on the back of the booth chair. Green eyes lock in your direction and send a cocky wink as a garnish to your drink.

You are about to win your first Oscar with this performance. Throwing on a grin, you pick up the drink and easily sashay your way over to him and his football buddies. Some flash titanium wedding bands, some platinum. Some aren’t wearing them at all, like your date, mister 83 who leans forward upon your approach. “Well, well, well, long time no see hot shot.”

“Speak for yourself, pop star.” Jake stands to greet you, his arms coming around you, carefully as to not spill either of your drinks. You catch a whiff of his cologne when he does so. It’s rich, familiar in the way it reminds you of summers camping. Bonfire smoke and smores. Yet clean, like when you came home to a clean house, citrus floor cleaner lingering in the halls. Pulling back, you almost move forward again to sit in it. Easy does it.

“Oh come on, three weeks isn’t that long.” You chide. While most of his body has pulled away from the hug, his free hand still sits on your waist, warm against the AC of the exclusive bar.

“Technically it was a year ago.” Jake smirks before taking a sip of his drink and you want to groan. So you do. But spin it into something more playful.

“Observant, are we?” You nearly snarl as you take a sip of your drink, Jake’s colleagues standing up. The one who’d sat right next to him grins and extends a hand. He’s tall, lean but has a stunning smile as he steps your way.

“Not sure we’ve met. Javy Machado, running back, San Diego Sea Lions-” the blonde looks at his friend with an amused scoff.

“I think she knows who the Sea Lions are, Jav.” The look on the captain’s face is one of skepticism and amusement. You were here to dispel rumors. So, as much as you’d like to smack Jake for being a dick to his friend, you shake his teammate’s hand instead

“In passing. I don’t follow football closely, but I get by. Celeste.” The smile on your face is genuine as the next player stands. Kind eyes, a domestic bar of hair on his upper lip and the build of a pickup truck, he goes for a quick one armed hug. When he lets go, you have to wipe the temptation of any swooning you were compelled to do. Especially since a gold band glistens on his left hand.

You’re here for Jake anyways.

“Name’s Bradley Bradshaw. They call me Rooster.” Your eyebrow furrows as your head twists. Before you can ask, another man on the other side of the room laughs.

“You should hear him on the field when he’s sacking someone.” This one, curls and meticulously groomed facial hair to boot, leans forward and shakes your hand kindly. “I’m Mickey. That back there is Bob.”

True to his word, at the end of the bench is a long haired man, tucked into his phone and fiddling with a ring. He doesn’t seem to match the energy of the rest of the group. Curious. “Bob!” He glances up at the sound of his name, blue eyes flitting from face to face before spotting you. When he does he breaks out into a smile.

“Celeste! Gosh, wow it’s so cool to meet you! My girls adore your music.” This catches Jake’s attention, a brow popping up.

“Aren’t both of ‘em less than five?” He asks and Bob looks between the two of you.

“Yeah? It’s never too early to introduce them to great music and influential women.” There’s no faking the smile on your face as you reach over and shake his hand. When you do, you look at Jake with a ‘would you look at that’ coded grin.

“That’s amazing to hear! I’m glad they have fun with it! That’s why I do it.” You glance back at Jake as he comes behind you, hand shifting to the small of your back.

“Pay’s in the bathroom, I’m sure you’ll meet him sometime later tonight.” The quarterback gives a nod to his group, before guiding the two of you to a high top table not too far from them. When you sit down he looks at you with a laugh. “Flirt much?”

“Excuse me?” Jumping to the defense, you watch Jake roll his eyes and then look back at Bradley, before facing you.

“You were practically eye-fucking him.”

“Was not.”

“He’s happily married, leave him be.” The blonde sips at his drink and you can’t help but laugh when you realize he’s giving you a hard time.

“Right, right, guess I’ll bother you instead.” The tease is off your lips in two seconds. Maybe he was right, you were coming off strong. You huff and sink into yourself briefly. “I don’t know if you realized this, but I haven’t had ‘flirt’,” your fingers mark the quotation marks in the air, “with anyone in a while. Let alone fake it.”

Jake leans back in his chair, downing the rest of his beverage a smirk making way when he sets the glass down.

“Don’t worry, you won’t be faking it for long.”

The two of you sat at that table for probably an hour, bickering over which of the Pirates of The Caribbean movies were the best, and why glitter was a detriment to society. Another round of drinks and the football star return to the table as he laughs when he spills a little of your overflowing drink.

“No, no I assure you. Glitter originated in some high tech nuclear weapons factory to make the enemy go insane upon introducing it to an environment.” He pushes your drink toward you as you pull your hair back. Not only were you not anticipating for him to be this passionate about it, but you weren’t planning on the night going like this.

You were enjoying yourself. Jake had told you about his time at UT, six years spent studying communications no less.

It made sense when you really dissected it. Jake had the ease to hold someone’s attention: he’d held yours this long after all, and he was well spoken. Both were things that were shocking to you. He soon enough revealed the plan had always been football. Communications was for post-retirement, when he got tired out and wanted to be back in the stadiums.

Stories of his dad commentating his high school games came fondly before he asked about your background. You were a bit hesitant to divulge too much, but what you had was pretty bare-bones.

Music had always been a hobby but never a career choice. You’d planned to go into school for a degree in education, a masters in English. Go and teach for a bit before getting your PhD in some niche of the world of writing and then become a professor at your alma mater.

With the rise of social media and the multitudinous connections of the internet, a little original song of yours got popular. Local radio picked it up and then your label signed you.

“It all was pretty spontaneous, really,” you answer. “My career was in no way by design, but… I wouldn’t change it.” The smile on your face is small, but genuine as your hair falls back around your face. Tracing the rim of your glass, you keep your eyes down before a hand pushes your hair out of your face. Coming eye to eye with him, he grins.

“Guess it was written in the stars then.” His response catches you. Jake’s eyes are much softer than when you’d approached him earlier. They were dark, focused and possibly a little mischievous. Now? They were gentle. Every shade reassured you that the boisterous man you’d seen in the office and the press was nothing like the man under the helmet.

It made far more sense to you now. How he’d gotten women hooked on him. The abrasiveness and bold exterior was the casing to the real character.

How many women had actually made it past the outside?

The rustling of a fabric on leather comes from in front of you, watching as the blonde pulls out a wad of cash from his pocket.

“Please tell me this isn’t you trying to buy my affection there, Seresin.” As he stands up, pushing his wallet back, the grin carved on his face doesn’t leave when he shakes his head.

“No, no, princess. This is for the bartender. Turns out you’re not a cheap date.” His knuckles wrap onto the table briefly before he disappears. You blame the blush on your face on the humidity inside the building.

The two of you bid your goodbyes, before starting to the front of the bar to exit. Reaching the street, it’s expectantly empty. He takes the side closest to the street as the two of you head down the way, toward the row of restaurants and shops that were quiet for the night.

“Are you hungry?” Jake’s voice breaks through the cold of late January air, looking at him quizzically.

“If you’re hungry we could go back-” His hand comes to your back again as he shakes his head.

“Oh-ho, no ma’am I promise, I’ve got something way better.”

━◦○◦ⓒⓐⓤⓖⓗⓣ◦○◦ⓤⓟ◦○◦ⓘⓝ◦○◦ⓐ◦○◦ⓜⓞⓜⓔⓝⓣ◦○◦━

Unfortunately, he was right. The two of you stand in the glow of food truck lighting, beyond messy tacos in hand. He’s watching you with a smirk on his face, obnoxiously chewing the fish taco in his hand.

“Is that not the best taco you’ve ever had?” Again, his voice is filled with ardor as he watches you attempt to maneuver the soft corn tortilla that seems to be spilling into your napkin.

“It’s… a taco.” You shrug, looking down at the brown beef meal in your hands. Jake shakes his head, still chewing.

“No, no, I will not have you slander Ganso’s Tacos. Absolutely not.” He sets his red basket down on a table, hand in a vice grip around his taco. “Here, open,” he maneuvers closer and you shake your head, backing up.

“I am not eating your taco!”

“Eat it!!” The two of you laugh. Finally, you concede and take a bite of the hand fed taco. When he finally takes it back to his plate, his expression eagerly waits for your reaction. One hand covers your mouth as you chew, nodding as Jake looks like he just stole the Mona Lisa without getting caught.

“You’re right.” One singular fist to the air and he’s back to scarfing down his tacos.

“I told you. Way better than bar food. This is by far the best taqueria in all of California. And I stand by that.”

With full stomachs and messy hands, the two of you start back toward the bar, where Jake’s parked. When you do, you finally notice a car has been tailing the two of you since you ordered your meal.

The crowd in front of the bar proves that your teams were certainly on to something. Flashes of light start in an onslaught, your hand coming to block your eyes. Still, you keep walking toward them, only for Jake to grab your hand and guide you toward his car.

━◦○◦ⓛⓘⓟⓢⓣⓘⓒⓚ◦○◦ⓞⓝ◦○◦ⓨⓞⓤⓡ◦○◦ⓕⓐⓒⓔ◦○◦━

Voices shout, questions sail through the air, your name, his name, Jonah’s, more questions about football- it all gets crammed into the cacophony before the passenger door opens under Jake’s hand, guiding you to your escape pod.

The driver side door causes the car to shake with an unceremonious thud. In seconds, the engine to the sports car is ignited and the two of you are underway.

It isn’t until you get about two miles out that one of you finally speaks.

“How long do you think it’s going to take for those to show up online?” White lines on the road disappear as you head further and further from the bars and closer to the hotel you were staying at for the weekend.

“I give it maybe six hours. Four if we’re lucky.” He laughs, but it doesn’t match the hearty ones he shared with you earlier.

A sports broadcast plays lowly on the radio, both of you overwhelmed by the cameras that stimulating conversation was far from what either of you were concerned with. It isn’t long until you spot your hotel. Jake navigates into the lane closest to the front of the building, pressing down on the brakes. You’re just about to unbuckle when he pulls back out into the other lane, lurching forward and away from your accommodation.

“Um. Hello?” You question. The car whips around a turn, green eyes fixated to the rear view. Shifting in your seat, you glance behind you.

“We’re being followed.” Jake just barely makes the light before it turns red, leaving the tailing SUV behind.

“It’s probably just paparazzi, no big deal.” It’s easy to shrug off for you, but Jake huffs.

“Yeah. And I’m not dropping you off at a hotel alone with vultures circling.” Navigating the CarPlay in the vehicle, he quickly moves to messages and asks his phone to send someone to your hotel to gather your things.

“Jake, I’m-”

“You’re staying with me.”

━◦○◦ⓢⓞ◦○◦ⓘⓣ◦○◦ⓖⓞⓔⓢ◦○◦━

#top gun maverick #top gun #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun fic #top gun fanfiction #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin #hangman fanfiction #hangman fanfic #hangman x reader #hangman

440 notes · View notes

felikatze · 5 months

Text

ISAT and Ludonarrative Harmony: Combat is a Storytelling Tool

Or: How Siffrin is stuck in the endgame grind, forever

Please Note: This is primarily aimed at an audience that already played In Stars and Time, because I am bad at explaining things, and it's good to already know what the fuck I'm talking about. I tend to only bring up game elements as I want to talk about them.

Spoilers for.... all of ISAT! Especially Act 5!

(image to show how i feel posting this and as an attention grabber over my wall of text)

To pull a definition of ludonarrative harmony out of a hat, game writer Lauryn Ash defines it as follows:

Ludonarrative harmony is when gameplay and story work together to create a meaningful and immersive experience. From a design implementation perspective, it is the synchronized interactions between in-game actions (mechanics) and in-world context (story).

It is, generally speaking, how well game mechanics work hand in hand with the story. I, personally, think ISAT is an absolute masterclass of it, so I want to take a look at how ISAT specifically uses its battle system to emphasize Siffrin's character arc and create organic story moments. I want you to keep this in mind when I talk here.

So, skills, right? If you've played any turn-based RPG, you know your Fire spells, your "BACKSLASH! AIRSLASH! BACKSLASH!" and the many ways to style those.

Well, what does casting "Fire" say about your character? Not all that much, does it? Perhaps you'll have typical divisions. The smart one is the mage, the big brawny one is your tank, the petite one's the healer. And that's the barebones of ISAT's main party, but it's much more than that.

Every character's style of combat tells you something about them. Odile, the Researcher, is the most well-travelled and knowledgable of the bunch. She's the one with the expertise to keep a cool head and analyze the enemy, yet also able to use all three of the Rock-Paper-Scissors craft types.

To reflect her analytical view of things, all her skill names are just descriptive, the closest to your most bog-standard RPG. "Slow IV" or "Paper III" serve well to describe their purpose. The high number of the skills gives the impression there were three other Slow skills beforehand - fitting, considering the party starts at level 45, about to head into the final dungeon. She's also the oldest, so she's the slowest of the bunch.

Isabea, the Fighter, has all his skills in exclamation points. "YOUR TURN!!!" "SO WEAK!!!" "SMASH!!!" they're straightforward, but excited. He's a purposefully cheerfull guy, so his skills revolve around cheering on his allies. He's absolutely pumped to be here, and you see that from his skill names alone.

Mirabelle, the Housemaiden, is an interesting case. She's by all means the true protagonist of this tale - She's the one "Chosen by the Change God," the only one who survived the King's first attack, the only one immune to his ability to freeze time, the only dual-craft type of the game - just a lot of things. And her skill names reflect that facade she puts on herself - she can do this, she can win! She has to believe it, or else she starts doubting. This is how you get "Jolly Round Rondo" and "Mega Sparkle Heal" or "Adorable Moving Cure." She's styled every bit a sailor scout shojo heroine, and her moveset replicates the naming conventions of "In the name of the moon, I'll punish you!"

Even Bonnie, the Kid, who can't be controlled in combat, has named craft skills. And they very much reflect that Bonnie is, well, a kid. "Wolf Speed Technique" or "Thousand Blows Technique" are very much the phrasings of a child who learned one complicated word and now wants to use it in everything to seem cooler than they are, which is none, because they're twelve.

Siffrin's skills are all puns.

You have an IMMEDIATE feel for personality here. Between "Knife to Meet You!" and "Too Cleaver by Half," you know Siffrin's the type to always crack a joke no matter the situation, slinging witticisms around to put Sonic the Hedgehog to shame. It's just such a clever way to establish character using a game mechanic as old as the entire history of RPGs.

This is only the baseline of the way the combat system feeds into the story, though.

The timeloop, of course, feeds into it. Siffrin is the only character who retains experience upon looping, whereas all other characters are reset to their base level and skills. And it sucks (affectionate).

You're extremely likely to battle more often the earlier in the game you are - after all, you need the experience (for now.) Every party member contributes, and Siffrin isn't all that strong on their own, since they focus on raw scissor type damage with the addition of one speed buff. (Of course it's a speed buff. They're a speedy fucker. Just look at him).

At first, the difference in level between Siffrin and the rest of the group is rather negligible. Just a level or two. Just a bit more speed and attack. And then Siffrin grows further and further apart. Siffrin keeps learning new skills. He gets a healing skill that doubles as an attack boost, taking away from both Mirabelle's and Isabeau's usefullness. He gets Craft skills of every type that even give you two jackpot points instead of one - thus obliterating Odile's niche. Siffrin turns into a one-person army capable of clearing most encounters all on their own.

Siffrin's combat progression is an exact mirror of story progression - as their experience inside the loops grows, they also grow further and further away from their party. The party seems... weaker, slower, clumsier. Always back at their starting point, just as all of their character arcs are reset each loop. Never advancing, always stagnant. And you have Siffrin as the comparison post right next to them.

I also want to point out here a change from Act 2 to Act 3 - Siffrin's battle portrait. He stops smiling.

Battles keep getting easier. This is true both for the reason that Siffrin keeps growing stronger even when all enemies stay the same, but also for the reason that you, the player, learn more about the battle system and the various encounters, until you've learned perfect boss clear strategies just from repetition. Have you ever watched a speedrunner play Pokemon? They've played this game so many times, they could do it blindfolded and sleeping. Your own knowledge and Siffrin's new strength work in tandem to trivialize the game's entire combat system as the game progresses.

(Is it still fun? Playing it over, and over, and over again? Is it?)

You and Siffrin are in sync, your experience making everything trivial.

As time goes on, Siffrin grows to care less and less about performing right for their party and more and more about going fast. A huge moment in his character is marked by the end of Act 3; because of story events I won't delve too deeply into, Siffrin has grown afraid of trying something new. And his options of escape are closing in. They need an answer, and they need it fast. He doesn't have the time or patience to dumb himself down, so you unlock one new skill.

It doesn't occur with level up, or with a quest, or anything at all. At the start of Act 4, it simply appears in Siffrin's Craft skills.

(Just attack.)

No pun. No joke. Just attack. Once you notice, the effect is immediate - here you have it, a clear sign of how jaded Siffrin has become, right at every encounter. And it's a damn good attack, too! The only available attack in the game that deals "massive" damage against all enemies. Because it doesn't add any jackpot points (at least, it's not supposed to), you set up a combo with everybody else, but Siffrin simply tears away at the enemy with wild abandon. Seperated from the rest of the party by the virtue of no longer needing to contribute to team attacks (most of the time. It's still useful if they do, though).

Once again, an aspect of the battle system enhances the degree of separation between Siffrin and the static characters of his play. You're incentivized to separate him, even.

Additionally, there are two more skills to learn. They're the only skills that replace previous skills. You only get them at extremely high levels, the latter of which I didn't even reach on both of my playthroughs.

The first, somewhere in the level 70 range, Rose Printed Glasses, a paper type craft skill, is replaced by Tear You Apart. It's still a pun about paper, but remarkedly more vicious.

The second is even more on the nose. At level 80, In A While, Rockodile!, a rock type craft skill, is replaced by the more powerful Rock Bottom.

I didn't get to level 80. If you do, you pretty much have to do it on purpose. You have to keep going much longer than necessary, as Siffrin is just done. And the last skill he learns is literally called Rock Bottom.

What do I even need to say, really.

Your party doesn't stay static forever, though.

By doing their hangout quests, side quests throughout the loops that result in Siffrin and the character having a heart to heart, all of them unlock what I'd call an "ultimate" skill. You know the type - the character achieved self-fulfillment, hit rank 10 on their confidant, maxed out their skill tree, and received a reward for their trouble.

These skills are massively useful. My favorite is Odile's - it makes one enemy weak to all Craft types for several turns, which basically allows you to invalidate the first and third boss, as well as just clown on the King, especially once Siffrin starts racking up damage.

But the thing is. In Act 3, when you first get them, yeah, they're useful. But... do you need them? After all, they're such a hassle to get. You need to do the whole character quest again, you can't loop forward in the House or you'll lose them. If you want to take these skills to the King, you need to commit. Go the full nine-yards and be nice to your friends and not die and not skip forward or skip back. Which is annoying, right?

Well, I sure did think so during Act 4. After all, a base level party can still defeat the King, just with a few more tricky pieces involved. Siffrin can oneshot almost all basic enemies by the time of Act 4. It's this exact evalutation that you, the player, go through everytime you return to Dormont. Do I want this skill, still? Would it not be faster to go on without it? I'm repeating myself, but that's the thing! That's what Siffrin is thinking, too!

I also want to take a quick moment to note, here - all skills gained from hangouts have art associated with them, which no other skills do. This feature, the nifty art, hammers home these as "special" skills, besides just how they're unlocked.

Siffrin also has one skill with associated art.

Yeah, you guessed it, it's (Just attack.)

At first, helping the characters is tied to a hefty in-game reward, but that reward loses its value, and in return devalues helping Siffrin's friends every loop. It's too tedious for a skill that'll make a boss go by one turn faster. You, the player, grow jaded with the battle system. Grinding experience isn't worth it, everybody's highest levels are already recorded. Fighting bosses isn't worth it, it's much faster to loop forward.

Isn't this what all endgame in video games looks like? You already beat the final boss, and now... what challenge is left? Is there a point to keep playing? Most games will have some post-game content. A superboss to test your skills against, but ISAT doesn't have any of that. You're forever left chasing to the post-game. That's the whole point - to escape the game.

As most games get more difficult as time passes, ISAT only gets easier. The game becomes disinterested in expanding its own mechanics just as I ran out of new things to fight after 100%-ing Kingdom Hearts 3. Every encounter becomes a simple game of "press button to win."

The final boss just takes that one up a notch.

Spoilers for Act 5 ahead boys!

In Act 5, Siffrin utterly loses it. His last possible hope for escape failed him, told him there's nothing she can do, and Siffrin is trapped for eternity. So of course, they go insane and run up the entire House without their party.

This just proves what you already knew - you dont need the party to proceed. Siffrin alone is strong enough. And here, Siffrin has entirely shed the facade of the jokester they used to be. Every single skill now follows the (Just attack.) naming conventions. Your skills are: (Paper.) (Rock.) (Scissors.) (Breathe.)

To the point. Not a moment wasted, because Siffrin can't take a moment longer of any of this. Additionally, his level is set to 99 and his equipment becomes fixed. You can't even pick up items anymore! Not that you needed them at this point anyway, right? Honestly, I never used any items besides the Salty Broth since Act 2, so I stopped picking items up a long time ago. Now you just literally can't.

Something I've not talked about until now - one of the main equipment types in this game are Memories, gained for completing subquests or specific interactions and events. They all by and large have little effects - make Odile's tonics heal more, or have Mirabelle cast a shield at the start of combat. For the hangout events, you also gain an associated memory that boosts the characters' stats by 30. It lets them keep up with Siffrin again! A fresh wind! Finally, your party members feel on par with you again!

...For a time. And just like that, they're irrelevant again, just as helping them gave Siffrin a brief moment of hope that the power of friendship could fix everything.

In Act 5, your memory is set to "Memory of Emptiness." It allows you to loop back in the middle of combat. You literally can't die anymore. Not that Siffrin could've died by this point in the first place, unless you forgot about the King's instant-kill attack. This one memory takes away the false pretense that combat ever had any stakes. Siffrin's level being set to 99 means even the scant exp you get is completely wasted on them. All stakes and benefits from combat have been removed. It has become utterly pointless.

Frustrating, right? It's an artistic frustration, though. It traps you right here in Siffrin's shoes, because he hates that all these blinding Sadnesses are still walking around just as much. It all inspires just a tiny fraction of that deep rolling anger Siffrin experiences here in the player.

And listen, it was cathartic, that one time Siffrin snapped and stabbed the tutorial Sadness, wasn't it? Because who enjoys sitting through the tutorial that often? Siffrin doesn't. I don't, either.

So, since combat is an useless obstacle now meant to inspire frustration, what do you do for a boss? You can't well make it a gameplay challenge now, no. The bosses of Act 5 are an emotional challenge: a painful wait.

First, Siffrin fights the King, alone. This is already nervewracking because of one factor - in every other run, you need Mirabelle's shield skill, or else you're scripted to die. You're actually forced to fight the King multiple times in Act 3, and have to do it at least once in Act 4, though you'll likely do it more. Point is: you know how this fight works.

You know Siffrin's fight is doomed from the outset, but all you can do is keep slinging attacks. Siffrin is enough of a powerhouse to take the King's HP down, what with the healing and buff skills they have now, not to even mention you can just go all in on damage and then loop back.

(And no matter which way you play it, whether you just loop or use strategically, it reflects on Siffrin, too. Has he grown callous enough not even death will stop their mission? Or does he still avoid pain, as much as he can?)

This fight still allows you the artifice of even that much choice, not that it matters. The other shoe drops eventually - Siffrin becomes slower, and slower. Unsettling, considering this game works on an Action Gauge system. You barely get turns anymore. The screen gets darker, and darker. Until Siffrin is frozen in time, just as you knew he had to be, because you know how this encounter works, know it can't be cleared without Mirabelle.

And, then, a void.

Siffrin awakens to nothingness. The only way to tell you've hit a wall is if Siffrin has no walking animation to match your button inputs. You walk, and walk, until you're approached by.... you. The next enemy encounter of the game, and Siffrin's absolute lowest point: Mal Du Pays.

Or, "Homesickness," in english. If you know the game, you know why it's named this, but that's not the point at the moment.

Thing is, where you could damage the King and are damaged in turn, giving you at least a proper combat experience, even if its doomed to fail, Mal Du Pays has no such thing.

You can attack. You can defend. But it is immune to all attacks. And in return, it does nothing. It's common, at least, for undefeatable enemies to be a "survive" challenge, but nope. The entire fight is "press button and wait." Except, remember the previous fight against the King? The entire time, you were waiting for the big instant death attack to drop. That feeling, at least for me, carried forward. I was incredibly on edge just waiting for the other shoe to drop. And, as is a pattern, Siffrin is, too. As Siffrin's attacks fail to connect, they start talking to Mal Du Pays.

But he gets no response, as you get no attacks to strategize around. The wait for anything to happen is utterly agonizing. You and Siffrin are both waiting for something to happen. This isn't a fight. It just pretends to be. It's an utter rugpull, because Siffrin was so undefeatable for most of Act 4 and all of Act 5 so far. It's kind of terrifying!

and it does. It finally does something. Ma Du Pays speaks, in the voice of Siffrin's friends, listing out their deepest fears. I think it's honestly fantastic. You're forced to just sit here and listen to Siffrin's deepest doubts, things you know the characters could not say because it references the timeloops they're all utterly unaware of. This is all Siffrin, talking to himself. And all you, all Siffrin, can do, is keep wailing away on the enemy to no effect whatsoever.

So of course this ends with Siffrin giving up. What else can you do?

And then Siffrin's friends show up and unfreeze them and it's all very cool yay. The pure narrative scenes aren't really the main focus but I want to point out here:

A) Mirabelle is in the first party slot here, referencing how she's the de facto protagonist, and Bonnie fills in the fourth slot left empty, which shows all characters uniting to save Siffrin

B) this is the only instance of the other party members having act specific battle icons: they're all smiling brightly, further pushed by the upbeat music

C) the reflecting shield Mirabelle uses to freeze the King uses a variation of her hangout skill cut in, marking it as her true "final" skill and giving the whole fight a more climatic feeling.

It's also a short gameplay sequence with Siffrin utterly uninvolved in the battle. You can't even see them onscreen. But... it feels warm, doesn't it? Everybody coming together. Siffrin doesn't have to fight anymore.

At last, the King is defeated. Siffrin and co. make for the Head Housemaiden, to have her look at Siffrin's sudden illness. Siffrin is utterly exhausted, famished, running a fever. And this isn't unexpected - after all, their skills in Act 5 had no cooldown. For context, instead of featuring any sort of MP system, all skills work on a cooldown basis, where a character can't use it for a certain number of turns. The lowest cooldown is actually Siffrin's Knife to Meet You, which has a cooldown of 1. In universe, this is reasoned as the characters needing a break from spamming craft in order to not exhaust themselves.

Siffrin's skills in Act 5 having no cooldown/being infinitely spammable isn't a sign of their strength - it's a sign that he refuses to let himself rest in order to rush through as fast as possible.

Moving on, Siffrin panics when seeing the Head Housemaiden, because seeing her means one thing: the end. Prior to this in the game, every single time you beat the King, the loop ends when you talk to the Head Housemaiden.

Reality breaks down, the whole shebang. It's here that Siffrin realizes - they don't want the loops to end, because the end of their journey means their family will leave, and he'll be alone again. The happiest time of his life will be over.

Siffrin goes totally ballistic, to say the least.

As it turns out (and was heavily foreshadowed narratively), Siffrin has been using Wish Craft to subconciously cause the timeloop because of their abandonment issues. It's rather predictable if you paid attention to literally anything, but it's extremely notable how heavily Siffrin is paralleled to the King, the antagonist they swore to kill by themself at the start of Act 5. The King wants to freeze Vaugarde in time because it is, in his mind, "perfect," for accepting him after he lost his home - a backstory he shares with Siffrin.

Siffrin has become the exact antagonist he swore to kill, and it's shown by how the next fight utterly flips everything on its head.

Siffrin is the final boss.

In a towering form made of stars, Siffrin looks down at their friends. His face is terrified, because of his internal conflict; he can't hurt his friends, but he can't let them go, either. The combat prompt is simply changed to "END IT!"

This fight is similar to the previous, in that you just need to wait a certain number of turns until its over. However, this time, it's not dreadful suspense. It's... confusion, and hesitance.

You have two options for combat: Attack your friends, or attack yourself.

And... you don't really want to do either, I think. I certainly don't. But what else can you do? It's Siffrin's desires clashing in full force. Attack your friends, and force them to stay? Or attack yourself, and let them go safely without you?

Worth noting, here - when you attack Siffrin's friends, you can't harm them. Isabeau will shield all attacks. And when you attack yourself, Mirabelle will heal you back to full. And the friends don't... do anything, either. How could they? Occasionally, Mirabelle heals you and Isabeau shouts words of motivation, but the main thing is...

(Your friends don't know what to do.)

None of them want to harm Siffrin. Both sides simply stare at each other, resolute in their conviction but unwilling to end it with violence. It's of note that this loop, the last one, is the only loop where the King isn't killed. Just frozen. And now here is Siffrin, clamoring for the same eternity the King was. Of course everything ends in a tearfilled conversation as Siffrin sees their friends won't leave him, even after the journey ends, but I still have to appreciate this moment.

Siffrin is directly put in the position with their friends as his enemies, forced to physically reckon that keeping them in this loop is an act of violence, against both their friends, and against himself.

It's a happy ending. But... what does it mean?

Of course, ISAT is obviously about the fear of change. Siffrin is afraid of the journey ending, and of being alone. However, ISAT is also a game about games. Siffrin is playing the same game, over and over, because it's comforting. It's familiar. It's nice, to know exactly what happens next. These characters might just be predictable lines of dialogue, but... they feel like friends. Have you ever played a game, loved it, put countless hours into it, but you never finished it? Because you just couldn't bear to see it end? For the characters to leave your life, for there to be a void in your heart where the game used to be?

After all, maybe it became part of your routine! You play the game every day, slowly chipping away at it for weeks at a time. For me, I beat ISAT in four days. It utterly consumed me during this time. I had 36 hours of playtime by the end. Yeah, in that week, I did not do much more than play ISAT.

And once i beat it, i beat it, again. I restarted the game to see the few scenes I missed, most specifically the secret boss I won't talk about here. I... couldn't let go of the game yet. I wanted to see every scrap I could. I still do. I'm writing this, in part because I still do. It's scary to let go.

Ever heard the joke term of "Postgame Depression?" It's when you just beat a game, and you're suddenly sad. Maybe because the ending affected you emotionally and you need to process the feelings it invoked, or you search for something that can now fill your time with it gone.

The game ends, for real this time, the last time you talk to the Head Housemaiden. But Siffrin gets... scared. What if everything loops back again? And so, his family offers to hold his hand. They face the end, together.

For all loops, including the ending, you never see what happens after. After they leave the loop for good. Because the loop is the game itself. It's asking you to trust that life goes on for these characters, and it holds your hand as it asks you to let go. There's a reason for Siffrin's theater metaphors. He is the actor, and the director, asking everyone to do it over one more time. He's a character within the game, and its player.

There's a reason I talked about endgame content. This, the way it all repeats, there's nothing new, difficulty and stakes bleed away as you snap the game over your knee - it's my copy of White 2 with two hundred hours in it. It's me playing Fire Emblem Awakening in under 3 hours while skipping every cutscene. Are you playing for the sake of play, for the sake of indulging in your memories, because you're afraid of the hole it'll leave when you stop?

Of note: the narrative never condemns Siffrin for unwittingly causing their own suffering. He's a victim of circumstance. It's seen as endearing, even, that Siffrin loves their friends to the point of rather seeing the world destroyed than them gone. But Siffrin is also told: we'll stay with you for now, but we'll part ways eventually. And one day, you'll have to be okay with it.

Stop draining the things you love of every ounce of enjoyment just because you're afraid of what happens next. I'm not saying to never play your favorite games again. Playing ISAT a second time, I still had a lot of fun! I saw so many new things I didn't before, and I enjoyed myself immensely, reading the same dialogue over and over. But... it makes me look at other games I love and still play, and makes me ask... is this still fun? Do I still need to play this game to enjoy it? Even writing this is an afterimage of my enjoyment, but it's a new way to interact with the game, to analyze it through this lens. Fuck, man, I write fanfiction. Look at me.

All of this, fanart, fanfic, analysis, is a way to prolong that enjoyment without making yourself suffer for it. Without just going through the motions of enjoyment without actually experiencing any. But one day, the thing you love won't be fun to talk and write and draw about. And it's okay. You'll have new things to love. I promise.

In the end.... I'm certain I'll replay ISAT one day. Between great writing, art, puzzles and unresolved mysteries, it's my shoe-in for game of the year.

But I won't replay it for quite some time. I've had enough, for now, so I let my love take other forms.

Siffrin is never condemned, because love is no evil. Be it love for another person, or for a game. And please, if you're overempathetic - it's still a game, at the end of the day. The great thing about games is that you can always boot them up again, no matter how long its been.

A circle within a circle indeed.

To summarize:

The repetitiveness of ISAT's combat, lack of new enemies, and Siffrin's ever increasing strength eventually allows you to snap the combat over your knee, rendering it irrelevant and boring. Though this may seem counterproductive at first, it perfectly mirrors how Siffrin has also grown bored with these repeated encounters and views them only as an obstacle to get past. The reflection of Siffrin's own tiredness with the player's annoyance increases the compassion the player has for Siffrin as a character.

Additionally, the endgame state of the combat system serves as commentary on the state of a favorite game played too often, much like how Siffrin has unwittingly trapped themself in the loop. Despite the game having no more challenge or content left to over, a player might return to their favorite game anyway, solely to try and recreate the early experience of actually having fun with it. This ties into ISAT's metanarrative about the fear of change and refusal to let go of comfort even when the object (here, your favorite video game) offering that comfort has become utterly bereft of any substance to actually engage with. Playing for the sake of playing, with no actual investment to keep going besides your own memories.

Later on, stripping away even the pretense of strategy for a "press button and wait" format of final bosses highlights the lack of options at Siffrin's disposal and truly forces the player into their shoes. Truly, the only way to win is to stop playing.

#feli speaks #in stars and time #isat #isat spoilers #lays down on floor. it's done. it's done #i actually narrowed down in scope to just focus on the combat by the way. and this is like. several thousand words

1K notes · View notes

byechristopher · 4 months

Note

soooo it’s ur biggest fan here 🤣! so idea. chris is a hockey boy. i need something angsty or something

also a fluff idea reader is a dancer and chris is hockey player and reader has a competition the same place chris has a tournament. and it’s just them supporting each other

although just do what ever you want but hockey chris>>> i feel like you’d do him justice

Jealous guy.

– CHRIS STURNIOLO ANGST & FLUFF.

Author's note: I worked hard on this because it's for my biggest fan. You know I love my angsty shit, so I took your idea and combined it with mine. I hope y'all like it. 🤍 Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Ps. I'm the kind of bitch that gets all giddy and shit when Chris says "my girl" in my OWN FIC. Okay.

Warnings: not really a warning but mentions of fighting and a lil bloody lip. Mwuah. Didn't proofread, sorry!

[ YOU ]

"Okay, and what the hell do you want me to do about it?" I almost scream, turning around to look at Chris.

He was fuming, to say the least. His hair was messy, he didn't have a shirt on but wore his usual gray sweatpants. His glare was deadly.

"Uhm, I don't know, tell him to not send fucking flowers to OUR apartment?!" he shouts, throwing his phone on the couch. The irony in his voice is more than evident.

I couldn't believe it when I saw it either Honestly, I never expected him to go to such lengths. Despite being just a co-worker, he's become a relentless presence in my life. Whether it's showing up everywhere at work, bringing me coffee, or bombarding me with emails – it's relentless. The boundary crossed when he managed to find my address; literally searching for my goddamn address and sending me flowers? That is wild. Of course I told Chris about it, but he acts as if it is my fault this psycho found our address.

"I don't even know his phone number, Chris! How would I ever know that he'd search for the address and send me flowers?" I sigh, still very angry.

"I'll beat the shit out of him, I swear.. the game starts in less than an hour, fucking hell.." he says, checking his watch, "how the fuck am I ever going to play when I'm like this?"

I don't reply to him – he really makes it sound like it's my fault and despite my initial enthusiasm for the game, it's waned due to his blame game. Still, I don't want to come off as a heartless bitch, especially on the eve of his crucial match. So, I grab my phone, wallet, and keys before heading over to him.

"I really hope you win." I whisper, placing a soft peck on his cheek before exiting the bedroom and shortly after, leaving the apartment.

[ CHRIS ]

She left. Fucking hell. I always do bullshit like this – I can't keep my big mouth shut and now she's not even coming to the game. I really needed her in this one. But that is my own fault.

In the quiet solitude of our apartment, I try to prepare for the upcoming game; amidst the dim glow of our living room, I meticulously don my team jersey, each movement an attempt to shift my focus. Taking a moment, I inhale deeply, trying to be as calm as possible before the game.

With a determined resolve, I grab my gear, the familiar scent of the hockey bag triggering a surge of adrenaline. As I step outside, the crisp evening air hits me, momentarily clearing my mind. The journey to the rink is a silent contemplation, the distant echoes of the city fading as I immerse myself in mental preparation.

Arriving at the arena, I feel the familiar anticipation. The ambient sounds of the crowd and distant echoes of skates on the ice envelop me, grounding me in the moment. I exchange nods and greetings with teammates. The locker room door creaks open, revealing the sanctum where emotions are set aside, and the game becomes paramount. Amidst the hum of chatter and the clatter of equipment, I sigh; I really want her to come. I still have hope, although I doubt it. The tension lingers as I tighten my skate laces, and Jake, my teammate and friend, notices my distraction.

"You seem off, Chris. Everything okay?" Jake asks.

"Yeah.." I look up at him, and he seems like he already knows, "..just had a big fight with my girl before I left. Can't shake it off," I confess.

Jake pats me on the shoulder. "I understand, man. I wish I could say something but you gotta leave it behind for now. We've got a game to win. Sort things out later."

On the ice, rival players almost immediately target me, seeming to be aware of my vulnerable state; it must be that fucking expression of mine. I can't hide it. During the first period, a smirking opponent skates by, taunting, "trouble at home, Chrissy? Should focus on that instead of the game." he smiles.

Enraged, I retaliate with a forceful check, earning myself a penalty, "keep your temper in check, Chris!" warns the referee.

In the penalty box, I mutter under my breath, "I can't fucking believe this."

As the match progresses, rival players intensify their attempts to provoke me; we've played with those fuckers before, and if anyone has seen me in a game, they know very well the only thing that can affect the way I play is her. Undeterred, I channel my anger into my plays, determined to win this goodamn game while internally wondering if she came to see me after all.

In a breakaway, I find myself one-on-one with the opposing goalie. With a swift deke, I send the puck into the net, equalizing the score. The crowd erupts, and my teammates cheer.

Rival players persist in their attempts to get under my skin. During a tense moment, an opposing forward sneers, "look, your girlfriend's probably enjoying the show. Make sure to not embarass her again."

After that, I almost lose it, and in a heated moment, a rival defenseman delivers a high stick to my face, splitting my lip. Blood drips onto the ice as I stumble backward. The referee signals a penalty, but the damage is done.

Undeterred by the bleeding, I clench my fists, "you think that's going to stop me? You fucking coward!" I almost scream to make sure that fucking asshole hears me.

The game continues, and during a power play, I push through the pain. I charge towards the net, ignoring the throbbing pain in my lip – the only thing on my mind is her and making her proud.

Fueled by a surge of anger and determination, I respond with a spectacular goal that secures the lead for my team. I skate past the jeering opponent, acknowledging the crowd's cheers.

As the final buzzer sounds, signaling our victory, I finally spot my girlfriend in the stands. My heart beats faster. A mix of emotions plays across her face, and I realize the significance of my performance. It's like no one else is around, just us and that is the only thing that matters. I keep eye contact with her, even when my teammates are cheering for me and I smile, even with that bloody lip – she smiles back and I want to kiss her so bad.

[ YOU ]

When I saw Chris' bloody lip, I almost lost it – the restraint within me, resisting the urge to jump in and shove my fingernails into that asshole's eye sockets, is beyond words. I was well aware they were deliberately provoking Chris; his simmering anger was very evident. The recklessness in his gameplay during the initial stages of the game made it even more obvious that he was more focused on what they said than the actual game.

I kept yelling his name at the top of my lungs, unsure if he could hear, but I desperately wished for his victory, especially after that intense fight. Witnessing him wince from the pain now and then, I felt an overwhelming urge to cry.

As he scored the decisive goal and secured the victory, I couldn't contain my excitement, jumping up and down. It brought back memories of our younger days when I always cheered him on during his games.

When all of this was over and I just stood there, I could see him looking at me. His gaze finally finds me in the midst of the crowd, and my heart feels like it might leap out of my chest. Everything else fades away, leaving only him in my line of sight.

I notice all of the team leaving, probably going to the locker rooms and I quickly head to the exit door.

In the dimly lit corridor outside of where the locker rooms are, he finally comes outside and spots me waiting there, my expression a mix of anticipation and apprehension.

"Hey," he calls out, his voice carrying a hint of both excitement and apology.

I look up, meeting his eyes, "hey," a subtle smile playing on my lips, "you played amazing out there."

Still trying to catch his breath, he wraps his arms around me in a tight hug, keeping me close for a while. We are not saying anything, I just hold him close, my fingers buried in his sweaty hair.

"Thank you so much for coming." he whispers.

"I would never lose any of your games. Even when you're being an asshole." I smile, which I am sure he can hear when I'm speaking.

"I am so sorry. I didn't mean to put the blame on you. I just.. I am fucking jealous. I don't want any other guy near you." he keeps his voice as low as possible.

"Shhh, I know. Let's take care of that lip first and then you can apologise to me all you want." I pull away but he doesn't let go of course – I cup his cheek and take out some tissue that I keep in my bag for emergency with my free hand. I gently pat the skin, trying to clean the blood as much as I can without hurting him.

His eyes soften, "seriously, baby. Thanks for coming. I always play better when you're cheering for me."

I look up at him, my gaze softening as well as I cup both of his cheeks now, "I know. I am so, so proud of you. You were amazing, as always." I whisper, leaning in to play the softest kiss on his little wound.

"God, I love you." he whispers, wrapping his arms around my waist, hugging me close to him.

"I love you too."

571 notes · View notes

sanzaibian · 1 month

Note

I'm loving the stories! I'm heading to Mexico in a few weeks with work, but hoping to immerse myself in the culture a bit. Can you help me out?

You find yourself in front of your local Spanish-language association. You thought that taking a few classes in Spanish would help you recover some of the long forgotten classes you took in high school… though in all honesty, it won’t likely do much. You’re quite old, now, so it means that your brain cannot learn new languages as easily as it used to...

As you enter, you see the Mexican flag front and center, along with flags of many other Latin American countries, as well as that of Spain. You walk up to the receptionist, and she tells you, directly in Spanish :

“¡Bienvenidos! ¿Cuál es el motivo de usted venida? (Welcome ! What is the reason you came here ?) - Er…” You try to conjure some of the very old memories, and only manage a “Hola !” Before going back to English. “I’m sorry, I don’t really know Spanish… I’m here to take classes, in fact.”

The receptionist nods, and thinks a bit before taking out a timetable.

“Okay, well, you see, I have a... beginner’s course of Spanish in a few hours… It’s not perfect because they already started in January, but I think you can still catch up if you work hard enough.” She says, with a perfect American accent. She is visibly bilingual. - Oh, in a few hours ?”

You are quite interested, considering that you did want some beginner-level courses, but in a few hours… That’s too short to just go back home and come back later, but that’s also too long to just stay here and wait without getting bored !

The receptionist notices your embarrassment.

“You know, we are also a place where Spanish learners and native speakers can hang out. If you want, you can go to the hangout room while waiting ?” She offers sympathetically. - Well yeah, I could do that.” You nod. It may be geared towards more hard-core learners, but you can always try to immerse yourself…

You go to the room she waves you to. It isn’t loud, but there’s quite a lot of people in it, all speaking Spanish. You go and find somewhere to sit, when, on your way, someone hails you.

“¡Hola! ¿Cómo te llamas? (Hello ! (...) ?)”

Your long-buried memories start churning, as you recognize the second sentence as meaning something like “What’s your name ?”. You think a while, and then, flash of brilliance.

“Me llamo Charlie.” You answer, giving out your name in the most American of accents.

Your conversation partner smiles, and speaks quite slowly to let you understand what he means.

“¿Cuántos años tiene?” You understand the sentence to mean ‘How old are you ?’ - Er… Soy… cuarenta y dos… años ?” You try, but he shakes his head. - No, ¡es ‘Tengo ventidós’ o ‘Tengo ventidós años’!”

You blush of embarrassment as he corrects you. Yes, you now remember that to mean “I am x years old” you say “Tengo x (años)”… you even remember the worksheets from way back when… Huh, it seems like it was less far of a memory than you thought.

“Lo siento…” You excuse yourself with sentence that came back strangely fast. - ¡Jajaja!” He laughs. “¡No te preocupes! ¡Hablar español es difícil! (Don’t worry ! Speaking Spanish is difficult !)”

You are surprised how easy it is to understand him. Visibly, you had more memories than you expected ! Then, that guy continues.

“¿De dónde es? (Where are you from ?) - Soy de… Mexico… Nuevo Mexico. (I’m from… Mexico… New Mexico.)”

You almost stumbled on yourself. There seems to be something wrong with that statement. You know you’re American, but something seems wrong…

“Ah, de... ¿Nuevo México? Pero tu acento no suena asi… (Ah, from… New Mexico ? But your accent doesn’t seem like it comes from there...) - Si, es verdad… (Yes, it’s true...)” You’re about to tell him that it’s because you’re American, but then you say : “La gente dice que tengo un acento de la Ciudad de Mexico. Sabes, Mexihco Hueyaltepetl. (People say that I have an accent from Mexico City. You know, Mexihco Hueyaltepetl (?).)”

Wait, why do people say that ? You never went to Mexico City ! Okay, yes, you did go there for the holidays, after all, your father lives there… Wait, your parents aren’t separated !

You get more and more confused as multiple versions of your history start competing with each other.

“¡Ah, tenía razón! Puedo verlo en tu cara que eres… eh… ¿mexiqueño? (Ah, I was right ! I can see by your face that you are… er… from Mexico City ?) - ¡Jajaja!” You laugh. “¡No se dice ‘mexiqueño’! ¡Se dice capitalino, o chilango si estás familiarizado! (You don’t say “Mexiqueño” ! You say “Capitalino”, or “Chilango” if you’re familiar !)” You don’t quite know where this knowledge comes from. It seems like something only locals would know… - Perdón, soy chileno, no lo sabía… (Sorry, I’m Chilean, I didn’t know...)”

You smile at him. Of course, he couldn’t know that, you’re familiar with these terms because you’re a Chilango through and through ! Born in the city, lived in the city ! Yet you furrow your brows, as something still feels off.

Somehow, you’re convinced that you’re American, even though it seems to be a more and more distant fact. Well, when you look down and see those tan arms, you know that you aren’t, like, a total gringo, you’re at least part Latino…

“¿Cómo es la vida allá? (How is life there ?)” The Chilean guy asks you, a torrent of memories coming back (?) to you. - ¡Es complicado de describir! Pero México es muy dinámico, ¡entonces siempre es interesante! (It’s difficult to describe ! But Mexico is very dynamic, so it’s always interesting !)” You think back to how frantic life is over there… and how much you love that. “Especialmente comparado con aquí, parece que esta citudad está muerta… ¡En México siempre hay un xochitzin con el que te puedes topar! (Especially when compared to here, this city seems dead… In Mexico, there’s always an xochitzin (?) you can run into !)”

As the Chilean nods, you keep getting quite confused. You know you’re from Mexico City, you know you’re American, yet somehow there is like… a piece of the puzzle missing. You keep on thinking strange words like “Mexihco Hueyaltepetl” or “ihni”, and you know it’s not Spanish, nor English – not that you would know too much of that language.

You continue thinking as your body starts feeling strange, as you feel it shifting. You put your hand on your forehead and sense your wrinkles relaxing. You feel quite queasy…

“¿Estás bien? (Are you alright ?) - Me siento un poco mareada… (I feel a bit dizzy…) - Sólo tienes que ir al baño. ¿Quieres que te ayude? (Just go to the toilets. You want me to help ?) - No, estará bien. Tlazohcamati. (No, it’s gonna be alright. (???)) - Okay… eh... ¿Eres indígenas? (Okay… er… Are you a Native American ?)”

You don’t answer the Chilean, only giving him a small wave to thank him. You find your way to the toilets, still queasy, and look at yourself.

You’ve got your usual short black hair, your nascent beard that doesn’t want to come along, your brownish tint, as well as your light muscles. Nothing looks out of place, yet something seems wrong.

Is it the fact that you are so youthful ? You know you’re quite twinky. Is it the fact that your skin looks weird ? You know that it’s clearer than the other’s because your mother is gringo.

You feel even more queasy, as you feel your entire body tensing. Memories come back of your time in the gym, but also of the time with all your xochitzmeh (bros)… Yes, you now remember how you’re the son of an American linguist and a Nahua man. How you grew up speaking Nahuatl along with the other kids from around Mexico City. How you started going to the gym to prove that gays aren’t cuiltemeh (sissies/fags). How you now cringe to that line of thought, yet continue doing it to attract guys.

As the pieces of your life go back together, your queasiness dissipates, and you feel better. You drink a bit of water, and then you go back to the hangout room. As you go in there, the Chilean hails you once again.

“¡Charlie! ¿Esta mejor? (Charlie ! Doing better ?)”

Laughable, “Charlie” is only the nickname your grandparents use when you’re at their house… Why does that guy even know it ?

“¡Mi nombre no es Charlie, es Carlos! ¡Carlos Zopiyactle! (My name isn’t Charlie, it’s Carlos ! Carlos Zopiyactle !)” You say in a very matter-of-fact fashion. - Lo siento, pensé que te llamabas Charlie… (Sorry, I thought that you were named Charlie...) - No es nada. (It’s nothing.)” You answer with a very Mexican accent, aspirating your ‘s’. “Pero, tengo que irme ahora. ¡Adiós! (However, I need to go now. Goodbye !) - ¡Adiós, Carlos! (Goodbye, Carlos !)”

You leave the room, go past the receptionist who smiles at you a bit weirdly, and make your way back to your grandparent’s home. You don’t really like going there, because you’re not very good in English, but eh. Pleasing your mom is a good enough reason.

Suddenly, you hear a very familiar-sounding sound from your phone. You open it, seeing a notification, smile, and answer it before calling your mother.

“¡Cualli teotlaltzintli! ¡Amo niyaz tlacualpan! (Good evening ! I’m not going to be there for dinner !) - Pff… ¡Aic timotlamahzehua nanmonahuac! (Pff… You never come eat with us !) - Nomati, pero tengo cosas que hacer. (I know, but I have things to do.)” You say, switching back a bit to Spanish. - ¿Zannima tihual mocuepaz? (You will come back soon ?) - Quema. Nantli, nimitz nequi. (Yes. Mom, I love you.)

- Ohuihqui nimitz nequi. (I love you too.)”

You finish the call and smile. She doesn’t have to know that you’re missing the family dinners to be pounded. Those jocks on Grindr don’t know what your pseudonym “Moiztactlaca” means, but it sounds foreign, and they love it.

Soon, you’re going back home to Mexico City, but it doesn’t mean that you can’t take advantage of all the hot guys here in the meantime !

#male transformation #male tf #twink tf #twunk tf #twinkification #twunkification #age reduction #latino tf #mexican tf #nahua tf #mental change #reality change #transformation #tf story #ask

251 notes · View notes

pastanest · 2 months

Text

Spencer Reid x gn!reader

A/N: been gone for a hot minute due to personal circumstances but just wanted to drop a lil something (that anyone who watches Doctor Who will be able to tell I started writing a BIT ago given the references here lol) to let you guys know I’m still kickin it <3

warnings: slight hint at an age gap but nothing specific

A Smile

You can imagine the rest of the team would be floored to hear that Spencer has actually exchanged texts with you on a multitude of occasions, outside of professional settings. Numbers were swapped on your first day, naturally, and to begin with you only dared text Spencer if you had absolutely no other choice (if another member of the team could text him, you’d busy yourself to ensure they would, rather than ask you, to save you the embarrassment). But, ever since the first occasion that you texted Spencer a random question out of hours - regarding trivia you definitely hadn’t spent a concerning amount of time deciding on before you sent it to him - you have formed a bond that’s unspoken beyond typed words.

You: so, are you looking forward to the 60th Anniversary? :P

As you hit send, you roll onto your bed, grinning giddily down at your phone. In no more than a few seconds, your screen tells you that your beloved genius is already typing back to you, and within a minute, you receive the paragraph you’d anticipated.

Spencer: Absolutely. The revival of Russel T. Davies’ era, coupled with the return of Murray Gold’s legendary scores, are sure to ignite the spark of nostalgia that the show has been missing for some time. In particular, I am looking forward to seeing how Russel will format this new regeneration of the Doctor, and how many references to his predecessors will decorate the anniversary episodes, especially. I take it you are excited for the anniversary episodes, too, hence the question?

His formality and enthusiasm being conveyed in a way that is so distinctly Spencer, even over text, is enough to have you giggling. You know by now that if you ask something about one of Spencer’s interests, whether it be facts, statistics, generalized trivia, questions, literature, Star Trek or, in this case, Doctor Who, there is no way he can downplay his excitement.

You: knew it! :D and yeah, I'm super excited!!

Mostly, you are thrilled by the thought of discussing the episodes at great length with Spencer for weeks after they’ve aired, but you keep that safely in the subtext of your conversation.

Spencer: Of course you knew. Perhaps we could share a live commentary on the anniversary episodes, if we’re not otherwise engaged with a case?

Only Spencer Reid can make your heart stop with a suggestion like that. Before you can consider any consequences, you are frantically typing back to him.

You: I’d love that! will the commentary be by text or call?

He is typing the moment your message reaches him, his ability to read at what you consider to be the speed of light making for a wonderfully speedy texting partner in every conversation you have.

Spencer: Either is fine, but if we aren’t away on a case, I must admit the idea of experiencing the episodes together in person would be most preferable. It eradicates the risk of our viewings not being synced up or our call connection potentially spoiling the immersion. What do you think?

And just like that, he’s stopped your heart again. In fact, you truly have to consider whether Spencer Reid has figured out a means of reaching through his phone to yours, to snatch your heart right out of your chest. As though he hadn’t already stolen it on the day you met.

You: I think you’re right, like always, Doctor Reid :P

That’s a rational reply, you think. Not too eager. Not the resounding ‘yes’ that every fiber of your being is screaming. In the chess game that is how-to-text-Spencer-Reid, you have marked yourself as the queen. He’d tell you that’s not how chess works, but he’d probably also agree.

Spencer: I’m far from right “always”, but I very much appreciate that you think so.

You’re about to reply, when another text appears on your screen.

Spencer: (:

Doctor Spencer Reid has double-texted you. And, not only that, he’s sent you a smiley face. This is unprecedented. Your jaw drops.

You: omg you did not just send that

Honestly, your life is flashing before your eyes as you lie on your bed. Is this the power of your influence? Could you truly indoctrinate older men into sending emojis? Could this really be you?

Spencer: I most certainly did. I’ll even do it again.

Spencer: (:

He had to send it as a separate text. He couldn’t just add the smiley face to the end of his original message. No, of course he couldn’t.

You: omg who are you!!

You’re laughing now. Actually, properly laughing at the ridiculousness of this situation. Wait until Penelope hears about this.

Spencer: I don’t think these suit me very much, but they are fun. What about this one - 🙂

This is going too far. You’ve played God. You’ve flown too close to the sun. You’ve created a monster in the form of Spencer Reid using emojis while still being so formal. Still, you can’t deny that this is perhaps the funniest conversation you have ever had, with anyone, specifically because it perfectly demonstrates the unique humor shared between the two of you.

You: woah! careful! don’t push it, genius!!

And, in response to that, Spencer Reid is left with a philosophical question he has never before pondered: how does one convey sincere laughter via text? This reply takes him the longest, because he has to consider it very carefully. He wants it to indicate how funny he did find your message, and does find you, in general. He wants it to be obvious in its intent and impossible to misunderstand. So, after four minutes, you receive a text that has you laughing so hard you very nearly fall off of your bed.

Spencer: Haha.

Sometimes, that’s simply how your text conversations with Spencer end. While he does, generally, prefer a more traditional ending in the form of a goodnight text (that he actually makes the effort to sign off with a “- Spencer x”, like it’s a handwritten letter), he enjoys the nuances of an open end, on the basis it means a conversation with you doesn’t have to end. Only has to pause, temporarily, until one of you picks it back up again. There is something poetic, Spencer thinks, to the notion of you being his constant both in metaphor and literally in a text conversation that isn’t formally closed. That door is left open to you, much like the door to his heart is.

And that night, he closes his eyes with a smile on his face at the thought of you, everything you are, everything you make him feel. Everything that makes you, you, and how that makes you everything to him.

A text could never truly convey the heaven that you bring to him by existing, but just like proposing plans to watch Doctor Who with you, it’s a good place to start.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #imagine #imagines #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #headcannon #headcannons #spencer reid headcannon #spencer reid imagines

250 notes · View notes

crdteezv · 3 months

Text

Frat House - Yangyang Ver.

DISCLAIMER (important): This is a continuation of a fratboy series I’m doing for all the Wayv members! I recommend you read the prologue here first so everything can make more sense. You can also choose the other members here or at the end if you are interested in seeing someone else!

Paring: !fratboy! yangyang x afab! reader

Genre: college! au, frat! au, smut

Synopsis: You continue playing an interesting game of Spin the Bottle/Truth or Dare with Ten and his friends. You were dared to spend the night with one of them. When the bottle was spun, it landed on Yangyang. You wondered what type of things you and him were about to get into tonight…

Warnings: smut. !possessive/jealous! yangyang, DUB-CON, toxic…, also somewhat dark and not for the faint of heart, dirty talk, teasing, kissing, fingering, hair pulling, oral (giving/receiving(69)), throat fucking, manhandling, masochism, spanking, video recording (consensual), edging, o.denial/control overstimulation, unprotected sex

Word Count: 3.2k words

A/N: I know it’s been some time since I last updated this series. But, I would like to say that it is hopefully coming to an end very soon! Next, I will work on Xiaojun and then finish off with Winwin. Now I hope you all enjoy the Yangyang ver!

After Hendery spun the bottle, it landed on Yangyang.

You felt a bit surprised but relieved that it didn't point to a certain someone. Plus, you kinda know Yangyang so this wouldn’t be too awkward for you.

"Looks like you're staying with me tonight!"

"Yeah, sounds good. I'm pretty tired anyway, let's head up now."

He agreed and took your hand, leading you upstairs to his room.

Meanwhile, Hendery was still processing what happened. He felt a bit upset because he wanted the bottle to land on him. Others understood his feelings but moved on eventually. Everyone went to their rooms to sleep for the night.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

You have arrived at Yangyang's room.

It was nice and simple with a lot of grey undertones. His bed was facing the TV and was accompanied by his gaming setup.

"Hey, you can take the bed, and I'll crash on the floor or something–"

"No, it's okay. I'd feel bad making you sleep on the floor. Come here."

You gently pulled him towards the bed, feeling surprisingly at ease together.

"Your gaming setup looks pretty cool. So, you game a lot I assume?"

"Yeah, I do! I usually play with Winwin or Hendery. Lately, we've been hooked on Apex."

Seeing him talking about something he is passionate about, made him have this sparkle in his eye. You were so focused on what he was saying, you started to notice how attractive he was.

"I've never really played it before. I'm usually swamped with schoolwork."

"Wait, we could play now! I'll teach you."

Agreeing nervously, you watched as Yangyang set up the game. With a controller in hand, he guided you through the basics, his excitement contagious. Soon, you were immersed in the game together.

Laughter filled the room as you navigated the game alongside him. Gradually, you found yourself enjoying his company, feeling a growing connection. As the night wore on, you sensed a subtle shift in the air, the space between you started to heat up with tension. Sitting closely against the bedframe, your thighs would occasionally brush with each other, which was distracting you from the game.

"Hey, are you alright? You're playing slower than usual."

"I'm fine, just not used to this controller."

Yangyang paused the game, intertwining his arms with yours, hands still on the controller as if to offer comfort and support.

"You see, this is how you do it–"

Yangyang's hands covered yours, skillfully maneuvering the controller to control your character. It was as if he was playing the game for you. You couldn't help but feel a mix of embarrassment and heightened nervousness at his intimate gesture.

As you and Yangyang continued playing the game, the close proximity between you felt both exciting and nerve-wracking. His subtle breath on your neck sent shivers down your spine, a sensation you hadn't experienced before. It was hard to concentrate, and Yangyang noticed.

"Do I make you nervous? You've been squirming since we started playing again. We can stop if–"

"No, don't stop," you interrupted, feeling emboldened by the moment.

Leaning back into him, you gave him a seductive look, feeling a rush of adrenaline at the intimate exchange.

Throughout the night, Yangyang couldn't keep his eyes off of you, feeling a growing desire. He couldn't resist any longer. Slowly, he began to kiss the back of your neck, which sent tingles throughout your body. His hands found their way to your waist, his whispers in your ear

“You should keep on playing the game sweetheart. If you win, I’ll do whatever you want...”

Shivers crawled down your spine as he said that to you. But, who are you to deny such an offer? You nodded your head and he leaned back onto the bedframe and your backside was facing against him. You felt at ease and started to play the game again.

But Yangyang had other plans.

As you focused on the game, his teasing escalated. His hands roamed under your shirt, causing you to squirm and struggle to concentrate.

"Please stop, I can't focus–" you pleaded, feeling overwhelmed.

But Yangyang's actions only intensified, his playful bites on your neck were sending waves of pleasure all over your body.

"I never said this was going to be easy," he smirked against your skin, his touch was driving you to the brink of ecstasy.

Determined to win, you bit your lip, trying to block out the sensations and focus. This will all be over once you beat the game.

Feeling Yangyang's hand inching lower, your breath caught in your throat as anticipation mingled with excitement. His touch through your clothed pussy sent a jolt of pleasure surging through you, and you couldn't suppress the moan that escaped your lips.

"Seems like you don't want me to stop either," he whispered huskily, his voice dripping with lust as he felt the dampness soaking through your panties.

His words only fueled the desire raging within you, and you didn’t want him to stop at all.

His words alone were making you feel more aroused for him and you don’t know how long you could take it anymore.

He pulled your panties to the side and shoved his middle finger into your wetness. You let out a moan that was quickly covered up with one of his hands.

“Shh, you don’t want the others to find out what we are doing do you?”

You shook your head no and weren’t even focused on the game anymore. You were too immersed in all the things Yangyang was doing to you. Each thrust was pushing you closer to the edge. As waves of pleasure crashed over you, your moans became so out of control that you couldn't contain them anymore. But luckily Yangyang's hand muffled all the sinful noises you were making. Your body felt limp as you surrendered to the overwhelming sensations, losing control over yourself. Tears started to dwell down your face from all the stimulation you were feeling.

When Yangyang's thumb found its way to your clit, a primal scream tore from your throat, your body shuddering with pleasure.

He finds this all amusing and starts laughing at you.

“God, you can’t be this desperate for me, right? You’re not even playing the game for me anymore-”

He feels you squeeze and clench around his finger.

“Mhmm, you’re getting close sweetie? Then cum for me.”

He started shoving his fingers into you at a faster pace than ever before. And just when you were on the brink of climax, he stopped and pulled out his fingers immediately. You felt a sense of discomfort from being unsatisfied by his actions.

“Hey, why did you do that?”

His smirk only widened as he pointed to the TV, explaining his motive with a mischievous look in his eyes.

“It’s because you didn’t win love. I told you I will give you anything you want if you win.”

“Are you serious? It’s not even fair you, kept on distracting me.”

“Oh I know, and I don’t plan on making any of this easy for you. But I'll give you one more chance since I'm feeling generous tonight."

“YES! Now what’s the catch this time?”

He grabs the controller and switches the game to a simple racing game.

“Now, this should be easier for you to play and I will just be down here-”

He switches positions now between your legs while you lean against the bedframe.

You rolled your eyes out of annoyance. This is just going to be harder than before. But you were determined to win, fed up with his teasing. You agreed and focused on the game.

He started slow by kissing all over your thighs and squeezing them firmly with his hands. You stayed focused, he was not distracting you this time. He admired your determination but knew he could break you soon. His kisses turned into bites, making you tense. He let out a little smirk and continued marking up your thighs.

You were more focused on the game than before. You knew for a fact he was going to do everything in his power to make you fall for him. But, you are standing your ground and not making any moves. He couldn’t wait any longer and started to lick up your drenched pussy. He put your legs over his shoulders and started to devour you like he was hungry.

You bite your lip hard and start to lose focus. You were almost done with the game and just needed to hold out a little longer. He didn’t care anymore and shoved your core into his face. He started lapping up all of your juices and even started sucking on your clit.

You finished the game just in time and ended up in first place and you can fully let yourself go for him. You threw your head back in pleasure and started moaning even louder than before. You didn’t care if the whole house could hear you at this point, you just wanted Yangyang to keep going.

You pulled onto his hair and pushed him hard against you. You feel him start to whimper into you. The vibrations of all of the sounds he was making made you start to wince around him. You squeeze your thighs around his head and he starts to gasp for air.

“Fuck baby, this is not enough for me come here-”

He lays down on his back and places you on top of him. He made you face away from him.

“Back that ass into me sweetie.”

You were taken aback as he grabbed your waist and pushed your pussy onto his face, causing you to let out a moan. No one had ever made you feel this aroused before, and he was practically driving you wild. He practically making you see stars. You grind your core onto his face and he was loving every second of this.

As you were going at it, you started to notice that his cock was right in front of you. With a sinful idea in mind, you pulled down his shorts and boxers, stroking him with your hand. He moaned in pleasure, too focused on you to fully comprehend your actions. He couldn’t help but grind up into your hand. Pumping him faster, you reveled in his needy desire.

"You enjoy this, don't you?" you teased, slowing your pace as he begged for more.

“Mhm f-fuck yes, don’t stop-”

You started to slow down your pace and let out a playful laugh.

“I don’t know if you earned it yet. You teased me so much tonight and -”

“P-please, I won’t tease you anymore..”

You looked back at him and gave him a smirk.

“You promise?”

He nodded his head you decided enough was enough. You took him into your mouth, and he threw his head back. He had already forgotten that he had a job to do too.

“Hey this don’t get too comfortable, you better get back to-”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. He went back to devouring your pussy and with more vigor than before. You let out a loud moan and decided to suppress all your noises by shoving your throat down his cock. You began to bob your head up and down wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon. You were both overwhelmed by each other. Just a moment ago you were playing a spin-the-bottle game and now his face is deep into your pussy.

Who would’ve known this all happening because of Hendery's little dare?

Yangyang couldn't resist thrusting into your mouth, causing you to gag. Tears streamed down your face as you wondered if you could take this anymore.

The both of you were reaching your breaking point.

You felt his cock start to twitch in your mouth, and you clenched around his tongue in response. With increasing urgency, you both intensified your pace, driving each other to climax simultaneously, not wasting a single drop. You got off of him and almost fell back but he grabbed you in time.

“Oh baby, we're not done just yet.”

You gave him a confused look and he grabbed you and pushed you down into the mattress on your back. He pinned your hands over and proceeded to take off the rest of his and your clothes.

"You're so beautiful. I've always wanted to do this," he confessed, his words a mix of desperation and lust, unsettling you slightly.

"Every day in class, I'd stare at you, wanting to be closer," he admitted, his voice tinged with longing. "But Ten or Hendery would always get in the way..."

He slowly brought your legs up his shoulders and positioned himself into you.

“But now… I have you all to myself.”

You started to feel a little intimidated by him. He seemed so possessive all of a sudden. Before you could even say anything, he slips his cock into your pussy, eliciting a loud moan from you as pleasure surged through your body. Your eyes started to roll in the back of your head.

He began to pound into you with rough, deep strokes, his pace relentless and unforgiving. It was as if he was consumed by an insatiable hunger for you, a side of him you had never seen before.

“F-fuck Yangyang s-slow down-“

“No, I can’t anymore. I’ve wanted this for too long, princess. Besides just a moment ago you were practically begging me to fuck you.”

His words were starting to get to you. You did ask for this but you didn’t expect him to be so feral for you. Apart of you didn’t mind it though. You almost like the feeling of being wanted and almost felt selfish for it. It’s been a while since someone wanted to be inside of you this bad.

So you gave in and started to make out with him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him closer to you. He gripped on the headboard with one of his hands and started fucking deeper into you. His strokes started to become more sharp and precise.

“F-fuck p-please keep going… right there-“

“Ah you’re liking this a lot more now huh sweetheart? You look so pretty for me.”

He caressed your cheek gently before deciding to change things up. Flipping you onto your stomach, he positioned you with your ass in the air and pushed your head into the pillow.

"Now, I'm not holding back anymore. I want you to be loud for me so everyone in this house can hear you, sweetheart," he whispered in your ear, delivering a loud smack to your ass that elicited a whimper from you.

“Especially Hendery and Ten.”

Your eyes widened as you realized Yangyang had planned this all along. He had been jealous since you kissed Ten in front of everyone

Little did you know, he and Winwin were in on it the whole time.

When he was whispering to Winwin when you kissed Ten, he was telling him that he wanted to find a way to separate you and Ten. Yangyang thought if he could somehow convince Hendery to come up with such a dare, there was a chance he could have you to himself tonight. That's why he didn't object when Hendery first proposed the dare.

Yangyang was jealous.

You looked back at Yangyang with such anger "You wanted this to happen, didn't you? How long have you been planning this?"

“Since we first met in math class. I always saw you and Hendery going against each other and how close you were with Ten-“

He pulled you up by your hair and brought you closer to his face.

“Now here you are all alone with me. Begging for me to fuck you. Isn't it crazy how things have turned out?"

“Oh you’re literally insane you know that?”

He pushes you back onto the bed and slips himself back into you.

“And you love that about me don’t you princess?”

With each powerful thrust, you moaned his name, torn between fear and lust. Despite your conflicting emotions, you couldn't deny how good he was making you feel. You felt like you were losing yourself to him and you didn’t want to let go of that feeling.

You were enjoying this and so was he.

He slowed his pace slightly, still inside you, and reached for his phone. He started to record you.

"Now, baby, look into the camera and tell me who makes you feel this good," he demanded.

"You... you do," you managed to gasp out.

He gave a harsh slap on your ass again and you let out a loud moan.

He delivered another harsh slap to your ass, eliciting a loud moan from you. "What was that, sweetie? I didn't quite catch that," he teased

"YOU DO!" you exclaimed, feeling the pleasure intensify as he pounded you deeper into the mattress.

"That's right, pretty girl. Only I can make you feel this good," he affirmed before stopping the recording and tossing his phone aside.

"Now that I've got what I wanted tonight, I think it's time to wrap this up, don't you think?" he suggested, his actions leaving you too overwhelmed to respond with words. All you could do was nod your head. You were too preoccupied to be able to let out any words at the moment. He was bringing you so much pleasure that all you could do was scream and moan in ecstasy.

He grabbed your waist with both of his hands and started to fuck you into the mattress. He gripped your waist so tight that it was starting to become a little painful to bear. You both eventually climax at the same time and he was riding out all of your orgasms. He wouldn’t stop until you were fully satisfied.

He fell back into the bed and brought you to his chest. You were both panting for air, trying to catch your breath. It felt a little awkward afterward and you both didn’t know what to say to each other.

“Hey look I’m sorry for the way I acted tonight. It’s just I’ve liked you for a very long time now and I just got carried away. I can’t help myself when it comes to you-“

You kissed him on his cheek.

“It's fine, Yangyang. You just caught me off guard is all. I just didn’t know you were this crazy for me-“

"Hey, I'm not that crazy for you," he joked, attempting to lighten the mood after everything that happened between the two of you.

“Oh come on. You kept on going on and on about how much you wanted me and was being really possessive. I think that’s what you call crazy.” you teased, noting his surprised expression as he realized your point.

"Look, I'm sorry again, and we can forget about this happening, and I'll even delete the video–" he started, but you interrupted him by grabbing his wrist.

"Oh, but I don't want to forget what happened tonight. It was just getting fun, don't you think?" you said playfully, causing him to feel drawn to you once more.

"You don't have to delete the video if you don't want to. I know you want to show all the other guys what went on with me and you tonight," you added, observing his surprised reaction.

"Especially Hendery and Ten, right?"

**AUTHOR NOTES**: If you want to see what would happen if the bottle landed on a different member, choose here: [KUN] [TEN] [WINWIN] [XIAOJUN] [HENDERY]

151 notes · View notes

whmp · 6 months

Text

hey, it's me! i'm still alive, somehow, though just barely. this semester has been pretty tough so far and will probably remain that way until spring. despite this, i managed to add some fun new features. : ) ALSO i promise 100000% that if you sent me an ask i WILL answer it. i will. anyway, look at all those cool things! -> a system for cuts, bruises, tattoos, wounds and other decorations your whumpee's skin is an empty canvas. whether you fill it with scars and wounds or cutesy band aids is up to you!

the way this is set up is kind of like a bunch of stickers. so for example, if you decide to hurt the lil' guy with something sharp, he'll get a "stab wound" sticker in the spot you decided to target. over time, that sticker will change over to a "stab scar" one. it's a very flexible way to do things, but it still needs some work and a couple big changes, since it's very unfriendly to low-end computers. in terms of visuals though, it should look exactly the same as the decal-based "decorations" for your whumpee that you see above!

- a better way of getting that dude on camera the camera system is now a lot more immersive and will fit the story. the awkward developer cam that could clip into walls is no more.

you can drag around the view and zoom in and out by scrolling. as you progress, you'll get access to even more ways to invade your whumpee's privacy. : )

-> new ways to get horny in the last devlog post (around 1000 years ago) i said that you won't see any "horny accessories" in the upcoming updates. that was a complete lie, sorry! here's a preview of some cool new horns you can give to your whumpee.

the neat part is that the horns are customizable - other than just choosing the shape, you can modify their size and color gradient. -> other stuff + story i've made plenty of changes and additions to the back end. most of it is not flashy or super significant - most of the time and energy i could dedicate to the project went right into fueling the violent, bloody conflict between me and custom shader code. i've also made some updates to how time is simulated and fixed a bunch of bugs. there is now a sound system too! i'll look for some copyright-free sfx and music before the next update. oh, and there's some lore too!

i've been experimenting with different ways of delivering the main storyline. heavily stylized cutscene-like sequences were very fun to do! not sure if i'll stick with this style though. either way, i have the general outline of something that resembles a plot. >: ) that's it for now! again, sorry for the irregular update schedule. i've been following the "no progress for a long time, then one night you have all the energy and inspiration in the world and you zone the fuck out for an unhealthy amount of time just working on your thing then until realize that you're going to be asleep within the next 40 seconds" development strategy - hopefully, my brain will kindly allow me to switch to a more comfortable workflow. :' ) taglist below: (let me know if you want to be added OR LET ME KNOW IF I FORGOT TO ADD YOU IM SO SORRY) @whumpinthepot @andithewhumper @pigeonwhumps @monarchthefirst @scp-1296 @whumpedydump @screenys-whump-corner @whumpshaped @bloodsweatandpotato @burning-and-remembering @thealmightyconeoftruth @whimpity-whumpity @catnykit @vietbluecoeur @rainythealias @cardboardarsonist @snakebites-and-ink @lthrboy @woo-lu-woo @wingsofadragonsstuff @wecoffphm @bayvel @pics-and-fanfics @dokidokisadness @generic-whumperz @lambetjenasus @aarika-merrill @hayaneakabane @moons-cozy-corner @brittaunfiltered09 @rule-masochism @reverie1234 @oddsconvert @wh-wh-whumpified @currentlyinthesprial @cupcakes-and-pain @heavenlyden @whumpsday @likeadeadbattery @stay-on-topic1 @cyborg0109 @kawhump @astrowhump

#whumpdev #whump community #whump art #whump game #whumblr #whump #this took forever SORRY #there's still so much more to do but i'm really excited to start implementing new stuff #i gotta get myself a trello board with features or something #or anything that resembles a plan tbh #planning is hard but you know what is even harder? sticking to a plan #and that difficulty SKYROCKETS if its a plan you made yourself #man idk i gotta check if i don't have adhd or something i feel like this might not be the way an adult brain should operate #ill do some research later if i don't forget??? i'm always so skeptical of thinking to myself “i might have this disorder”#cuz i feel like i'm super hardcore prone to some weird bias and i wouldn't trust my own brain to diagnose itself #i don't trust that fucker in general

267 notes · View notes

nipuni · 2 months

Text

Doctor Who report!! We are all caught up with NuWho and in time to watch the new season when it comes out!! mission accomplished, It took us around 6 months total and we loved every minute of it 🥰

Now that we have watched all eras I can share our tastes and opinions nobody asked for under the cut 😌

We can confidently say RTD's era is our favourite and for Doctors 10 (and 14) followed by 12, but honestly there isn't a single Doctor (or Master!) that we didn't love.

We've also started rewatching the first four seasons now with more context and there is just something so special about them. They almost feel like a different show from all the later ones. The silliness and the way the story doesn't take itself seriously at all until all of a sudden it does and then the pain hits you twice as hard because of it. How with just with a line or deed and it's implications the Doctor can be so unbelievably inspiring. The way the narrative seems to place you in the role of a companion trying to catch up with the Doctor and figure him out yet never quite managing to do so creates this distance but also admiration and reverence in you too and you can't help but adore him flaws and all. It has just the right amount of room for every side character and relationship to develop and feel human and the right amount of exposition to keep the pace quick and don't hold your hand. The glimpses behind the doctor's cheerful childish façade into an unsettling calculating alienness and immeasurable trauma but also a weary wisdom. The complete selflessness to the point of martyrdom. The reckless irresponsible acts of devotion from both the companions and the Doctor. The near apotheosis of the companions the closer they get to him. The contagious feeling of awe and wonder and hope for life. The way it's so unabashedly centered around love of every kind 😭 ARGHH I don't know man there is nothing like it!! Ultimate comfort show for us, just.. healing really. There is so much more I can say and gush about but I'd be here typing all day so I'll draw more about it instead!! We would also like to get started on classic Who soon! and try to get our hands on the audio episodes and comic books and all the extra stuff as well 😊

We also watched more David Tennant works since the last report!

Blackpool was hilarious, infuriating and horny, the singing was a choice but overall so fun!! The Escape Artist was great, very sad and tense, would have loved for it to be longer, these miniseries are always so good but so short!! Mad to be Normal is so underrated? we enjoyed it a lot!! RD Laing's portrayal was so compelling, it's beautifully shot and the 60's setting is really immersive and well done. Einstein and Eddington was also really good, incredibly accurate historical setting!! the costuming was fantastic, one of the best I've seen!! These last two films are biographical and sort of no plot just vibes so maybe this is why they are not everyone's cup of tea but we enjoyed them very much. David just never misses, I'm sure we can watch anything with him in it and we will love it no matter what lmao what a guy 😭

Anyway that's all for now! I hope you are all doing well, spring/autumn is almost here! best bits of the year 😊

#DW report #doctor who #personal

100 notes · View notes

doomsday-dj · 4 days

Note

Yo. Bestie. Do you have any Rizzles author recommendations for me??

You have cruelly seduced me into this teeny-tiny-weeny fandom and now I have galloped my way through (almost) all of your brilliant body of work I am cast adrift and quickly finding out that "sort by kudos" simply does not bring up the goods here...

Help a gay out?

Oh fuck yeah, bestie. Yes. Do I ever!! I am about to WEAR OUT the link function. But before the recommendations: aw shucks and thank you and all that. Your comments this week have been a highlight. I'm sorry to have dragged you into this but hopefully this post makes up for it! I've been dabbling in some other fandoms lately, ones with a LOT of fics, and there's a lot of great writers out there, but I have to say that especially relative to how many fics there are, there's an outrageous amount of good writers who have written Rizzles.

Okay! So disclaimer that I’ve had a really ungodly amount of coffee today so if this is a little on the “un” side of hinged then I apologize. I am definitely gonna be REAL effusive. I was silly and shy about leaving comments and kudos when I first got on AO3 and now I make up for those crimes by being unabashedly keen.

I have gone and sorted by kudos (and, sidenote, discovered that I'm in the top 30????) and before I get to the under-appreciated bangers, I will say that plenty of my faves feature in the first two pages of sort by kudos (though their most kudosed work is almost never my fave one). Here I’m thinking of coolbyrne, @julieverne, DanteBeatrice77. All of these authors are awesome.

Also, amongst the highly kudosed works, Attachment by @performativezippers is a classic for in the fandom for good reason (and their Bachelor AU is a romp) and law of the lever by sharkfights is one of my favourites all time.

As for the other stuff, what do you WANT out of your fic, bestie?

You want the feelings? You want the beautifully written feelings? @ladyriot has got feelings FOR DAYS. If you want some one shots that will take you apart and put you back together, you’ve come to the right place. Good feelings, angsty feelings, all the feelings you need. My favourite is Let Our Hands Tell the Story but I recommend all of them. Mostly it's one shots but the one complete multi-chapter fic, Transference, is CRIMINALLY UNDERRATED. Less than 200 kudos?! Fuck all the way off. I don’t know if it’s because it’s an AU or if it’s because of the doctor/patient element but unless that’s a trigger, I promise you it it’s handled very artfully and also it’s fucking fiction and no patient’s rights were violated in the making of this fic. Oh and put your ink on my skin 'til it comes off on me is both devastating and stupid hot.

Haven’t had enough feelings?? Take your insufficiently battered heart over to @sideadde’s work. I especially like Who Needs Two Kidneys When Another Heart Can Be Had? and Immersion Therapy.

You want a big meaty casefic you can sink your teeth into?? Domini_porter’s CMYK is so goddamn good. The smutty chapters in this one are just...chef's kiss. Among my favourites all time. I am also entirely obsessed with their Victorian AU, which deserves more attention. Also if you want some crack-your-chest-open-and-pull-out-your-guts angst go alllll the way back to their first fics on AO3.

OH. @kurtsvonneslut too. I think and you cooled my mind that burned with longing is probably my favourite post-finale type fic, bit of an AU with some major canon changes. They also have an excellent picking-up-from-the-Jane-and-Maura-season-2/3-break-up casefic, A Crime of Passion, and they wrote a devastating exploration of PTSD that just...oooof.

God, I could really just keep going and going. And this is just on AO3!!! I feel like I could do a whole part two of this that's just flagging all the best stuff that's back on ff.net. I might have to because this is already really long. But I'm stopping for now. Thanks for the BEST ASK.

*dramatic stage whisper* psssst do you want smut? I feel like I could also do a whole post on smut alone. Maybe later.

Note: I’ve tagged authors if their tumblr name is the same as their ao3 name, because I assume they’re okay with being found. If any of you would like to be untagged from the post just DM me and I’ll do that lickety split.

#rizzoli and isles #rizzles #rizzles fanfic #rizzoli and isles fanfiction #ask doomsday #love nothing more than talking fanfic #DM or ask me for recommendations ANY TIME

76 notes · View notes

itsybitsylemonsqueezy · 2 months

Text

Wow, my Baldur's Gate 3 post blew up somewhat... nice. Well, time for more headcanons, of the unapologetically horny variety. (Yes, yes, I know everyone and their mother has done this already, well here's mine. Nyeh.)

Including: Astarion, The Emperor, Gale, Halsin, Jaheira, Karlach, Lae'zel, Raphael, Shadowheart, Wyll, and Zevlor

Tumblr is run by unfun prudes who would like my 30-year-old thoughts to remain Chaste and Pristine™ so filth under the cut until they ban me or whatever

Astarion

So the truly hilarious thing about Astarion is that he claims to be a pillow princess, but is almost always a dom. Like, I find it very funny that he enjoys the Aesthetics™ of being a spoiled brat, too delicate and pampered to lift a finger, but in reality, he's a bit of a work horse who finds having nothing to do dull as rocks.

Not to say that he doesn't enjoy receiving, I fully believe he does, but I think it's mostly relaxing at best and dissociative at worst. We'll assume though he's with a trusted partner for now though, rather than deal with the Hang Ups. I think inevitably he'd eventually roll over and change positions and end up in charge. I think it's an undeniable itch for him, even when he's being treated very well. There's just something so enthralling and exciting about being in control and playing with someone. It gives him a satisfying challenge the way being a pillow princess doesn't.

I think sex is particularly about aesthetics for Astarion as well. Bondage, costume, the art and immersion of it would be appealing. Role play would naturally extend out of this, especially as a safe outlet for some of his more complicated feelings. Succeeding at multiple layers of social interaction and intimacy would be extremely rewarding for him, I think.

He's also a very giving lover. I'm not sure praise would quite do it for him, that's not exactly his build. The submission though... oh yes, that does wonders. And he's very keen to reward that submission with nice things, sweet things, unbearably sweet, more than you can take... that's the kind of torture he's into, whining, begging, pleading, from the too muchness of it all, from how good he's being to you... mmm, yes, that's the stuff. It's soothing to understand you can be in control and not hurt people, to know that the control is not corruptive, not a bad thing in itself. I think it'd do a lot for his confidence and self-image.

Also, very into feeding as a sexual thing. He is a hedonist after all, more pleasure is more pleasure.

(The) Emperor

Hey, haters to the left, please. We believe in free love here and that includes the tentacle-y kind.

Look, okay, the dude comes on... strong. Too strong, to be honest. A little overly possessive, overly needy, but there is a hot, sweet core in there. And with a little patience, time, and reassurance, that can be honed into a respectful balance. If you can be patient and take your time, you can help him understand that he doesn't need to be in your every thought or be constantly touching to still have a deep bond. Do gotta watch those tendencies though.

That said, tentacles are a gift! Strong, dexterous, perfect for holding, squeezing, manipulating, and of course, inserting. It's hard to imagine a more intuitive metaphor for desire than tentacles, constantly grasping as they are. And boy, the Emperor wants. Also potentially has some experience using these, probably has a fair idea of how to make this good for both of you, so a pretty good bonus there.

While the Emperor tends to think he knows best and never enters anything without a plan, I think he'd be willing to take instruction. Your pleasure would be a point of pride so if something could be going better, I think he'd listen. Communication reaffirms trust after all. It's no dishonor to be spoken to or even commanded.

Honestly not sure illithid experience pleasure outside of making you orgasm and just like voyeuring or skimming the pleasure off your brain, so it's probably all about you here. Which also means we're probably not looking at marathon sessions; it'll be just the right amount of attention to a big, satisfying orgasm and then warm, languid rest. But the trick is, you're not going to get any gentle, casual encounters. His focus is unparalleled so it's very hard to back off of 100. That's fun, but can be exhausting, especially if you like a bit of variety.

Gale

Sometimes it's hard to see what Mystra saw in Gale; other times it's blinding. He's the most self-congratulating, infuriating, annoying bastard you know and he's also, somehow, perfect. What the fuck. The basic problem with Gale is that he'll tell you, to your face, that he fucked a goddess and when and where and how and the worst thing of all is he's not lying; he's actually good.

Gale has the enviable qualities of simultaneously being very laid back and very enthusiastic. He's happy with whatever position you suggest and is just thrilled to be invited. Throws himself into whatever's on the table.

Not to say that he doesn't have ideas, god, but he never shuts up about his ideas. And they're all, frustratingly, really good ideas too! "Oh, well I thought since we're in the hot tub, a little ice in my fingertips might be electrifying." "Have you considered the effects of shifting local gravity so you could ride me longer?" "I've taken the liberty of enchanting your dildo so you can feel it when you peg me!" God, don't you just hate him for being right all the time?

And to make matters worse, the stupid prick is full of wondering adoration for you, always trying to give you the best time possible, the best time ever. And he cares So Much he even notices if The Most Sensations Ever isn't the right thing right now and adjusts. He's just as happy to sit and cuddle or read next to each other. Ugh, disgusting. It's like someone made him in the Best Lover Conceivable factory and blew the whole budget on just him! Like, why Mystra gotta ruin the dating scene like that?!

Trouble is, he's obsessively good at doing exactly what you want because he was groomed by a goddess so... 😬 Sometimes you have to remind him he's enough. Sometimes you have to let him know that he isn't as good as what he could do for others, that he was already good, just on his own. Sometimes you gotta take care of him because he won't remember and he won't realize. And he might pout and object, but he deserves a good time too. Not that he wasn't having a good time but... you know what I mean. Let him be the focus.

Gale's very into attention and a slow, sweet time. Work him up painstakingly, bring him to the edge of begging, tell him what a good boy he is. He'll be crying with pleasure. Don't let him rush, rushing is a cheap shortcut and it means he doesn't have to endure being adored just as much as he adores you. It's the only time he'll ever be shy, having to accept love. But this should also, of course, always be paired with letting him reciprocate. One-sided affection or interaction would be torture for the poor boy. He wants so badly to be good, but gotta temper that a bit with reminding him he already is.

Halsin

Oakfather giving Mystra a run for her mother for "ruining the dating scene" with this one. Only The Oakfather went "thicc whores only" and the world cried amen for we were blessed.

What can we say about this polyamorous icon that hasn't already been said? Well, perhaps counter to some above examples, Halsin blessedly doesn't have to be at 110% all the time. Having a soft time is just as good as a rough ride. Although... we all know you're getting more of the latter on average, right?

The nice thing about Halsin is you don't have to worry about him denying himself or doing things just because he thinks you want them; he's a master of balance. He absolutely has his own personal, selfish desires and he knows how to serve them in turn. There's something refreshingly organic about Halsin's attraction, he's into you for perceptible maybe even measurable reasons, you don't have to worry about what's going on in that beautiful head of his so much.

A lot of energy in this one though, gotta be aware of that appetite. But hey, if you're into Halsin, you're probably open to maybe a couple more partners, together or separately. Halsin is certainly down for all of those combos.

Very generous lover, not satisfied until you say so. Down for any length of time, any position, but he strikes me as a man who's not into a lot of frills. Sex is about the physical pleasure, those animalistic instincts, and the kinetic energy between people being used and blended to create something more, something almost beyond us. A lot of artifice and dressing up wouldn't make a lot of sense to him and he's not likely to get much out of it. Don't think he'd yuck your yum, but unlikely to participate himself.

Might even prefer multiple partners at once and the longer the session the better. Short sessions are possible, but he's not going to enjoy it as much unless he can get really into the rhythm of it. Again, it's about balancing the energy, which often involves a bit of warm up and getting into the groove to truly satisfy. If one partner, high energy is best if possible. Come in with some goals in mind or you might get overwhelmed. Wouldn't be surprised if sometimes Halsin doesn't come at all due to his unreal stamina and thresholds.

Can't think of a better teacher to help you try something new though. Patient, kind, thoughtful with feedback from long experience. And he's incredibly appreciative of the unique skills every person has, the things only they bring are always valuable to him, something to be cherished and enjoyed. One of the few people who can be instructive, encouraging, and erotic all at the same time. It's a rare breed.

Jaheira

I'd let Mama Harper boss me around any day. And she is decidedly the boss, she's been giving orders since before I was born and that isn't about to change. Strong dom MILF energy here. And she definitely knows what she wants so those orders are going to be clear and consistent.

I don't think the strap is her preference, but I don't think she'd be opposed. But as another druid, I think she likes to go in bare handed, as it were. And, to be fair, she doesn't need help, I've seen those hands work a lash. She's strong and flexible, whatever you ask for she can give. She seems to have less in the raw energy department than Halsin, but I'll chalk that up to not being chief. I think it would take awhile to wear her down though, can't take her for fast or easy. Just like Halsin, I bet she prefers longer sessions to shorter, but would probably be a bit more flexible on this.

I think her real specialty is probably ropes, any kind of bondage. And she seems keen to teach the uninitiated, to make it not scary and safe. Her argument being the restraint in and of itself heightens the pleasure, why not try it? Not a bad argument.

She also probably enjoys herself most getting a work out in. She can be gentle for you, but her own pleasure is found in conquering, mastering. A test of strength or wills would probably be called for here. Tbh, I can't imagine her being that interested until you can prove you're a match for her in some way. Not terribly interested in coddling.

Karlach

Oh, a goddess among mere mortals. Those tits, that ass! She could break me in half and I would thank her, crying tears of joy. Karlach deserves every happiness on earth. Karlach is maybe the most enthusiastic person here, and that's saying something. The feeling of being close to others, but specifically sex, is such an important love language to Karlach. She has high physical needs and so is very excited and very determined to make you have as good a time as she is having. Unfortunately, sometimes this has a spiraling effect that results in questions like "how many orgasms is too many orgasms?" She just gets carried away, poor thing. But, nonetheless, as addictive as a good time is, you'll probably run out of stamina before she does. Though I bet she'd still keep going past the point of discomfort for herself, just because she's so excited and in love and bursting with joy and energy. It's hard to stop when there's so much you want to say and do and experience. Especially after being restrained so long.

On that topic, bondage probably not a good fit here. Anything that prevents touch for her is not really going to be her thing.

On the flip side, there is no such thing as too much, too hard, too long. I cannot imagine someone more eager to gobble you up, to taste you everywhere, to squeeze you close and shudder and gasp until your sweat smells the same. Like... she is here for this, she is into it. And she'll intuitively go for whatever is going to be more tactile, more of your touch and your body on hers. But also more scent, more excitement. She's going to respond like lightning to any little squeak or shiver to get any reaction out of you. She's so hungry for it.

And she's had a lot of time to think of ideas so you won't run dry on creativity for a good long while. Also important to note, she's only going to be a fast draw in the early days when everything is so urgent. She will slow down in time, though I think she'll end up running faster and hotter than most here. Her appetite is strong, but her stamina is actually on the low side. So more orgasms, but less space between them. Over stimulation is going to be huge here.

Not sure she has the patience for role play or anything fancy. This is not to say she isn't vocal she is... very vocal. Constantly. But that's quite affirming. And I think she'd be pretty into displays, perhaps even a bit of exhibitionism. After all, voyeurism/exhibitionism is all she had for awhile, so I suspect that would carry over into now. I think in particular she'd like to show you off, since she has a keen understanding of the eroticism of visuals. Not everyone's cup of tea of course, and she doesn't have to, but she just gets excited and proud. This makes her feel so good she can't help wanting to shout about it.

All of this said, she's also probably the most attentive in safety and aftercare. Halsin is a safety nut as well, but Karlach absolutely dotes. She wants to make sure she didn't hurt you or wear you out in any way and so will make extra, extra sure any little need is taken care of.

Lae'zel

Lae'zel's pussy could kill a man, in fact, it probably has. Not the most romantic of our choices, at least at first, but vigorous, satisfying, honestly intimidating. But, sex is very accessible with Lae'zel. Sex is part of communion for her, but in a different way than Halsin. It's exercise and contest and entertainment and group cohesion all in one. For these reasons, she's not as intimidating as you'd expect because just you saying yes to her pleases her. If she's invited you, that means she's already judged you worthy. She's not going to be upset when giving pointers because she has no hang ups about how sex is supposed to work. She doesn't expect you to read her mind and would probably be mad if you tried. Clear communication is part of this and you already earned the trust for it.

And on the flip side, she will not be distressed by you stating your desires because she's also not trying to read your mind. She wants you to trust her enough to say what you want. Honestly, she's probably a good starting place for virgins, her openness would be soothing. She might even have the patience to instruct, though she's not a terribly patient woman in general.

Also, not to bury it, Lae'zel just likes sex, the sweat, the scents, the weird, sticky feelings of it, the shivering glow through the body. Sex is fun for her and that's obvious in her vocalizations, both articulated words and not. And she knows that the more times you have sex with the same partner, the easier it gets, the more enjoyable it is. I think she'd like watching that progress, like a good team coming together. It's a sign of trust and affection. And in time, if she comes to trust you a lot, the sex becomes even more intimate and vulnerable, as you start to trust each other experimenting, going by instinct rather than plan. Those little shifts would be thrilling for her as she learns to improvise and accept new ideas. Surprising her would be delightful because she always thinks she has the upper hand. How fun to show her that's not always the case.

Lae'zel is a dom more out of necessity than desire, I think. She's probably a switch, happy with whatever suits; she just ends up doming a lot because no one has earned her subbing/she doesn't trust enough yet. But taking turns would also be valuable team building for her, important everyone trains even the skills they're weak at. Together, we become better at sex and at understanding each other. Weirdly, a very emotionally healthy outlook.

Raphael

I think I feel about Raphael as others feel about Enver Gortash. I want to project every flithy, nasty ass thought onto this wet rag of a man. So, without further ado: humiliation is the name of the game. I think if you fucked Haarlep in front of him, binding him so he couldn't do anything, only watch as Haarlep groans about how much better you are than Raphael, I think he'd come in his over-tailored pants. Cuckold the shit out of him. I think he needs to be stepped on, pegged, and drooling in the street. Never let him have his own way. I think he'd see stars getting pushed around like that. I think it would be great for him. Just use him like a cock sleeve, really dig in there. Absolutely deserved.

Like, imagine if this whole thing is his cringefail attempt to court Zariel. Imagine that level of humiliation. Works on this for thousands of years, only to burn his own house down over a few puny mortals stealing his shit. Oh my goddddd.

If nothing else, it would be Fucking Hilarious.

Shadowheart

So Shadowheart is probably into some hardcore stuff, right? She strikes me as someone with a bit of a home invasion kink. Definitely here for the blindfold/sensory deprivation kink. Restraints, but not just bondage, I'm thinking vinyl suits. Shadowheart's definitely into the unconventional. The more toys and artifice, the better.

It's probably next to impossible for Shadowheart to relax sexually. I don't think it's that she isn't into sex, but it's probably difficult for her to calm down and feel safe being vulnerable, get in touch with soft, gentle things that are just nice. Things that hurt a bit are more comfortable, more familiar, and even have less to do with her personally so she doesn't have to deal with her own feelings and preferences. But, with a bit of patience and a firm hand, you could coax Shadowheart into easing up, allowing herself to be taken care of, and to enjoy just a simple hand job or the too soft touch of lips. She's a bit of a project, but especially if you enjoy a bit of darkness and danger, very rewarding.

And Shadowheart would be big into reciprocation, you can't do something nice for her without her doing the same to you. And she'd take it as a point of pride that she's very good at making people beg for mercy. I think she'd become very giving over time, if you can be patient and teach her how to enjoy herself, in time she will give as much and more back to you.

And to be clear, not suggesting she doesn't also and always enjoy a bit of bondage and sensory deprivation, but I think she'd enjoy it more once she's come to terms with the fact this is not a service she's required to provide, an act which could determine her worth, but just occupations she enjoys for herself, outside of external validation. Teaching Shadowheart to masturbate could be huge. I do worry about her some times. A little self-love lessons might be necessary.

Edging also definitely something to try here. The slower the better. But, it's gotta have that pay off, or she'll start circling back to denial is the end in itself. Which... maybe sometimes, but there's also a lot to be enjoyed in the climax too!

Wyll

Hard to find a sweeter, gentler soul on the road. And a softer touch too. Needless to say, it's a lot of firsts with Wyll. But, he's a quick study and enjoys being tender and lovely. And I'll say it right now, even with this illustrious company, I don't think anyone gives better head than Wyll Ravenguard. Such a soft mouth and singularly focused and determined, he genuinely enjoys it too. It's such an act of service and this boy is all about acts of service. He wouldn't even get distracted by his own pleasure, just entirely focused on what he can give you. Halsin might have greater skill, but that heartfelt desire is unparalleled.

Wyll is made to be commanded, he will do whatever you say in bed. Even if you gave him control, I'm not sure he'd want it and definitely wouldn't know what to do with it. Now, not to say he's a pillow princess, those hips are doing their share of heavy lifting. Just to say that he wants instruction, he wants to follow your lead and let you tell him what to do. Praise would be huge here, tell him what a good boy he is, how well he's doing, he'd go mad.

To prolong the pleasure, a little orgasm denial may be useful, make him work for it. He loves a challenge and a test to prove his worthiness. And, in time, you could get experimental with him as you build his confidence. Maybe a little exhibitionism. Maybe a little bondage, a little role play. As long as the trust and love is there, Wyll's willing to try anything once.

Maybe the most fun thing about Wyll is Wyll actually can keep it down. Some of us just have to scream about it, but Wyll can actually get away with a fair mount because of his cool exterior. And Wyll is available for quickies, an advantage over some others here since he doesn't require a huge amount of energy set aside to have a good time. Wyll responds better to smaller but frequent affection and physical touch than big events spaced out. And Wyll is impulsively romantic, he likes to surprise with fun ideas and sudden invitations, which is a reward unto itself.

Zevlor

And a win for Team Sexualizing Old Men! I remember my roots. It is truly a tragedy that Larian won't let me sex up that old man. Look at him, you know it'd be good. So tender, so thorough. And Zevlor deserves something nice god damn it.

You know he knows what he's about. None of that shy, awkward fumbling you get with the new kids. Heck, he probably knows how to get you off standing against a wall, still in his armor! A true prince among men here. Don't think because no one's asked in awhile his skills have diminished.

Very passable oral skills, surprisingly long stamina, not just in oral too ;). Not the fastest ride you'll ever have and some positions are probably going to be out, battle-scarred knees and such, but for my money, absolutely delightful. Don't have to contend with more power than sense here.

And hey, if you want some Honorable Mentions like Aylin, Enver Gortash, or Dammon, let me know! I'm always down to give sexual headcanons no one wanted!

#bg3 headcanons #bg3 thoughts #hope you all enjoy #baldur's gate 3 #Astarion #Gale #Halsin #Zevlor #Wyll #Shadowheart #Lae'zel #Karlach #Jaheira #the emperor bg3 #raphael bg3

116 notes · View notes

oneshotnewbie · 25 days

Note

Andy Herrera x DeLuca! sister reader. Carina brings her sister to the firehouse and they both secretly fall for each other. Then one day Andy gets hurt on the job and after she is released from the hospital she goes and confesses her feelings to the reader. After secretly dating for about six months the two are caught kissing by both Maya and Carina who both freak out but are happy for the two. Fluffy please? With Maya and Carina teasing the two after they catch them together.

𝐴��𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑟 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒: 𝐼'𝑚 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑑! 𝑊𝑒𝑙𝑙, 𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝐼 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑡𝑜𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑔𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟! 𝐸𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦 𝑚𝑦 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 19 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐴𝑛𝑑𝑦 𝐻𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑟𝑎 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑓𝑢𝑛 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔! 🙈 𝐼𝑡'𝑠 𝑎 𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑦 𝑏𝑖𝑡 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 (3400 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑠) 𝑏𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑏𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢💕

ᕚ---ᕘ

The excitement in the air was palpable as Carina Deluca drove side by side with you through the busy streets of Seattle. Your eyes reflected your longing to finally visit the fire station. Until now, however, your big sister's and her girlfriends hectic work schedule had always ruined your plans. But today was different. Today Carina would introduce you to a world that you had only heard about through the lively stories of her girlfriend Maya. The fascinating world of the brave firefighters from Station 19.

"Ci stiamo avvicinando, Bella. Sono così felice che tu possa finalmente incontrare tutti." (We're getting closer, Bella. I'm so happy you can finally meet everyone) Carina said with a bright look of anticipation and placed her hand reassuringly on your thigh. "I feel your excitement, y/n. Once you cross the station's threshold, you will be a part of them," she assured you with a warm smile.

The car stopped around the corner and you entered the fire station grounds shortly after. An atmosphere immediately surrounded you, permeated by hustle and courage. But at the same time, you could also feel an air of excitement and determination surrounding the people. It was like being immersed in a whirlwind of commitment and solidarity as the dull drone of work filled the air. Everyone who was here exuded an aura of determination, ready to face the challenges of the day. It was a place where every moment mattered, a place that embodied the essence of heroism and solidarity.

As you passed through the wide open gates of the guardhouse, you were greeted by a young woman who was bustling around the area with a radio in her hand. The sight of her was impressive - her face bore the marks of hard work, but her charisma was incomparable. It was Andy Herrera, the charismatic leader of Station 19. Her eyes were full of light as she kept an eye on the action on the premises. Every step she took seemed like an expression of leadership, and yet there was an aura of calm about her that immediately instilled confidence in everyone who met her. It was clear that she was a natural leader, ready to face any obstacle with unwavering courage.

"Carina! It's great to see you," Andy greeted her with a bright smile. Then her eyes fell on you lingered there for a slightly longer time. "And who do we have here?"

"This is my sister, y/n. She was invited by Maya to get an insight into what we do here," Carina explained proudly. Andy nodded friendly and held out her hand to you, which you accepted gratefully. "It's very nice to meet you, y/n. Welcome to Station 19," she said with a warmth in her voice that immediately put you at ease and made you feel like you were in exactly the right place.

Her charm had an irresistible attraction for you. You had never met anyone like her before - someone so confident and yet so caring. As you looked into her warm brown eyes, you felt something awaken within you that you had never felt before. It was as if her charisma ignited a hidden longing within you that had previously been lying dormant inside you, unnoticed. Every small gesture, every word of hers seemed to touch you and awaken your senses as you let yourself be captivated by her charisma. It was a moment of realization that this encounter with her was taking your life on an unforeseen but exciting new path.

While Carina and Andy were engaged in animated conversation, you felt enchanted. Your eyes couldn't leave the Spanish woman, and you were sure she noticed. But instead of feeling uncomfortable, you found comfort in the knowledge that Andy was just as attracted to you as you were to her. It was as if there was an invisible connection between you that was revealed in every look and every smile. The atmosphere around you seemed to change, and you felt a special energy building between you that fascinated and filled you at the same time. It was a moment of magic where the world around you seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the eyes of the mesmerizing woman in front of you.

When Carina finally suggested getting Maya to explore the fire station with her, the spanish woman immediately took the opportunity to get to know you better. "I'll be happy to walk you through everything we do here," she offered enthusiastically, taking a few steps forward to signal that you should follow her.

A wide smile crossed your lips as you decided to follow her. "That would be amazing. I'm really excited to find out more," you replied eagerly.

As you strolled through the fire station together, Carina couldn't help but smile as she searched for her girlfriend. She felt that this encounter with Andy had the potential to change your life forever. It was as if the threads of fate were weaving around you both, leading you down a path full of surprises and new experiences.

ᕚ---ᕘ

The days passed and you kept finding a reason to visit the fire station, supposedly to see your "sister". But deep in your heart you knew that your real reason was something else: you wanted to see Andy again, the fire lieutenant who made your heart beat faster.

Andy quickly noticed that you were showing up more often than would be typical for a normal visit for your sister. Still, she always greeted you with a bright smile and always found an excuse to spend time with you. And the more time you spent together, the stronger the hidden feelings that grew between you.

You found yourself around them more and more often, be it at lunch with the entire team or in discussions about operational plans. You enjoyed watching her lead her team, burning with compassion and passion for her work.

Andy also couldn't deny that she was attracted to you anymore. There was something about you - your liveliness, your enthusiasm for life - that she couldn't ignore. She increasingly found herself staring at you when you talked to Maya or helped Carina with the supplies, as if trying to capture every nuance of your being, and she longed for the moments when she could be alone with you.

But despite the growing attraction between you, neither of you dared to reveal your true feelings. She feared the possible consequences of a relationship between her and her best friend's sister in law. So she kept her feelings under wraps, even though she felt more alive than ever around you.

One day, when you visited the fire station again, you found a rare moment of privacy. Together you sat next to each other on a bench on the roof terrace, surrounded by the calming silence of the evening and the soft city lights glowing on the horizon.

“Y/n, there’s something I’ve wanted to share with you for a while,” she began hesitantly, weighing her words carefully. You looked at her intently, your heart starting to beat faster. Had Andy finally found the courage to reveal her feelings?

"I... I really appreciate our time together," she continued, her eyes searching yours. “You’re special, y/n, and I feel really lucky that you’re here.”

A hint of disappointment washed over you as you realized she wasn't saying what you had hoped. But at the same time, you also felt relieved that she valued your presence as much as you valued hers. "Thank you, Andy. That means a lot to me," you replied sincerely, a hesitant smile crossing your lips.

You sat next to each other in silence for a while, enveloped in the evening and the unsaid words between you. But despite the words that remained unspoken, you both knew that there was something special between you, something that you couldn't ignore even if you wanted to. The atmosphere was charged with a suppressed tension that your hearts felt even if your mouths didn't say it.

A blaring, loud siren from the reporting station suddenly pierced the silence, breaking you out of your quiet moment. Both were frightened and Andy jumped up as the shrill sound blared through the air. She quickly gave you a kiss on the cheek and in that gesture, she paused for a moment, shocked at her rash action. "I'm sorry... I have to go. I'll see you again soon, yeah?"

You nodded, feeling the heat in your blushing cheeks. You too were overwhelmed by the gesture, but you tried not to show your excitement. While she disappeared through the exit and you saw the fire trucks drive away shortly afterwards, you also made your way home, unaware that something unexpected would happen that you had never imagined.

While working in a burning building, Andy suddenly found herself in a dangerous situation. An unstable structure collapsed and falling debris struck her. The team was eventually able to rescue her and bring her outside, but it was obvious that she was injured and needed to be taken to the hospital.

Using blue lights and sirens, Andy was taken by Warren and Hughes to Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital, where doctors did everything they could to carefully examine her and make sure she had not suffered any serious injuries. Hours passed like years as they waited for news of her condition.

Finally, as the sun rose over the horizon, the good news came: Andy only suffered a concussion and a few bruised ribs. But the thought of what might have been if the injuries had been more serious made her shudder. She suddenly understood the preciousness of life and how quickly it could be over.

When Andy was finally released from the hospital, she didn't hesitate for a moment. After everything that had happened, she was determined to stop hiding her feelings. She knew she had to tell you how much she loved you before it was too late.

She made her way to your apartment, ignoring the pounding in her head and the doctor's orders to rest. Your heart was pounding as you opened the door and saw the tired, vulnerable look in her eyes. A stab of pain shot through your chest. "Andy, I'm so sorry you had to go through that. I can't even imagine what it's like when you..." you started, your voice cracking with emotion, but Andy cut you off, her eyes wide open yours resting without once letting go. "Kiss Me."

You looked at her in surprise, your eyes widening in amazement. "What do you mean, Andy?" You asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Kiss me," she whispered again, biting her lip. The words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment time seemed to stand still between the two of you. "I love you, y/n. But I don't know if you feel the same. So if you do, finally kiss me."

A smile slowly broke across your face and you took a step towards her until you were close to each other. You placed your hands gently on her cheeks, pulling her towards you before your lips met. You felt her shoulders relax and her tense posture lessen as she too gently placed her hands around your neck and gave in to the kiss.

"Y/n... I love you," she said quietly, her voice still shaking. "I wanted to tell you before, but I was afraid. I've felt it since the moment I first saw you. And after everything that's happened, I know I have to tell you. I love you."

„I love you too, Andy.“ You spoke and in that moment, surrounded by the first rays of sunshine and the aftermath of a life almost lost, you finally found each other. The world seemed to stand still as your hearts united and you knew that this love would conquer all.

ᕚ---ᕘ

Six months had passed since you and Andy revealed your feelings for each other. During this time, you had kept your relationship a secret from her colleagues at Station 19 and your sister, for fear of possible consequences and not to compromise the professionalism of Andy's work. But despite your efforts, you couldn't hide your love, and your secret meetings were a small comfort in the midst of the hectic everyday life with different work shifts.

Today you had returned from your home country of Italy after your family asked you for help, and Andy couldn't wait to hold you in her arms again. The longing for you had become so great that she could hardly stand counting the hours until she would see you again after you had disappeared for almost a week.

When you finally stepped through the guard gates, she felt a wave of relief and excitement wash over her, and her heart began to take a flight. She immediately rushed to you as you greeted the others and talked to Carina about the situation in your home country, her hand reaching for yours as if she would otherwise lose you.

“Y/n, I missed you so much,” Andy whispered quietly as she pulled you into a more private setting, leaning her forehead against yours as you held onto each other. “I missed you too, Andy,” you replied, your voice full of affection. "It feels like an eternity has passed since we last saw each other. Even though it was only a week."

You spent the whole day being with your family on Station 19, catching Andy's stares and big smiles as you constantly lost yourself in each other, satisfying your longing for closeness and touch as best you could while you moved carefully around her team. But the attraction between you was so strong that it became increasingly difficult for you to hide your feelings. Every glance, every accidental touch seemed to electrify the air around you, and you both knew it was only a matter of time before your love would come to light.

But after the lunch break, when you both sat next to each other at the table and had lunch with the team, Andy could hardly suppress her longing for you. She had to feel you, touch you, kiss you. A wild rush of excitement ran through her heart as she dragged you with her by your shirt while you helped Travis with the dishes.

As soon as she closed the door behind her, you fell into each other's arms, your lips pressed together in a desperate attempt to outsmart time and capture the moment. You were so engrossed in your passion that you didn't notice how the door slowly opened and two figures walked into the room.

Only when you heard the sound of a thick throat clearing did you break apart and turned around to see who had disturbed you. To your surprise, Maya and Carina stood in front of you, their faces a look of shock and surprise.

"What... what the fuck?" Maya stammered, her eyes wide but a mischievous grin gracing her lips. Carina was speechless, her hand pressed to her mouth as she took in the scene before her. "Andy, what are you doing with my sister?" She finally managed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Andy and you looked at each other, your heartbeat raging in your ears. Both of you had no idea what to say, how to explain this unexpected revelation to your sister, and you recognized the panic welling up in your girlfriend. The situation suddenly became complicated and full of unpleasant surprises, and you had to decide how you would deal with it.

As your sister's words filled the room, the spanish woman felt a pang of fear in her heart. Andy knew that her relationship with you didn't live up to the expectations your sister might have had for you, but she had hoped that Carina would accept it. But when she saw her sister's angry look, she feared the worst.

“Y/n, cosa ne pensi?" (Y/n, what are you thinking?) Carina continued, her voice trembling with indignation. "Lei è molto più vecchia di te! Questo... non è giusto! (She's much older than you. That's... that's just not right)

You looked at your sister calmly, your eyes momentarily lowered to the blonde who was standing next to her, smiling and intertwining her fingers with the Italian woman's. "Carina, mi dispiace che tu abbia reagito così, ma amo Andy. E l'età non conta quando si tratta di amore.“ (Carina, I'm sorry you reacted like that, but I love Andy. And age doesn't matter when it comes to love)

Andy felt your support and warming hand on her shoulder, even if she didn't understand exactly what you were saying, and felt strengthened in that moment. She knew it would possibly be a long road for your sister to accept their relationship, but she was determined to fight for your love.

Before Carina could protest again, Maya suddenly laughed loudly, a sound that permeated the room and broke the tension. "Oh, Carina, what's so bad about it? The most important thing is that they're both happy," Maya said between fits of laughter and received a silent glare from Carina who kept her arms crossed under her chest.

The brunette looked at her girlfriend, but then she noticed the look of calm on Maya's face and her words slowly sank in. Maybe she was right and it didn't matter what age difference you had as long as you were happy and Andy didn't hurt you in any kind of way.

Carina slowly let go of her anger and a smile spread across her face. "You're right, Maya. I should be happy that my sister found someone she loves so much. I'm just... surprised, that's all."

You felt a wave of relief wash over you. You had feared that your relationship with Andy would cause a fight between you, but now that Carina gave her consent, she could finally breathe a sigh of relief. It was a moment of reconciliation and understanding that strengthened your bond as sisters.

“Thank you, Carina,” you said quietly, a sigh of relief escaping your lips as your eyes shone with gratitude. "This really means a lot to me."

Carina nodded and held out her arms, which you sank into after you pulled away from Andy and hugged your sister tightly. "I love you, y/n. And I'm glad you're happy. Ma se Andy ti fa del male, la ucciderò.“ (But if Andy hurts you, I'll kill her)

A giggle escaped you and the atmosphere in the room changed. From tension and conflict to love and acceptance. But then, out of nowhere, as the four of you walked out of the locker room together, the blonde started laughing again, and Carina joined her in putting her arm around her shoulders.

"Oh, you two lovebirds! I can't believe we caught you making out!" Maya teased, tears of mirth in her eyes. "I feel like I've been blown back in time. It's like high school."

Carina joined in, and together they began to tease Andy and you, their words full of warmth and joy. And as you both rolled your eyes together and smiled at each other, your hands clasped tightly together, you knew that you would be paying for hiding your relationship from your sister and Andy's best friend for a very long time. But in that moment, everything was forgotten except the love that radiated between you.

81 notes · View notes