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#but I can't say the same about the english speaking ones
nogenderbee · 3 days
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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕚𝕥?! ₊˚ˑ༄
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ anon request: Hi bee! I see you opening your requests and I hope I didn't late^^
Anyway, can I request WxS (separately) with reader who's a vocaloid producer but they compose sad songs with dark meaning (ex : self-inflicted achromatic, shinitai-chan, etc)? I kinda want to know too their reaction when they find out that reader is a vocaloid producer and the song that they usually hear is actually made by reader
I hope you have a good day and sorry for my bad english :')
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Hello!! Yes dear, you absolutely can! And don't worry about English, I know my isn't perfect either so it's a-okey! ^^
Anyway~ I really hope you'll like it!! Because I certainly did like writing it!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff
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✧ Tsukasa probably never listened to your songs himself but I feel like he'd hear few titles and songs when his friends get their hands on speakers at wherever they are... or whenever he steals a headphone...
✧ and honestly, despite the dark lyrics in few, he still thinks some have really nice instrumentals!
✧ he's still not the biggest fan but not against it either
✧ he definitely heard your artist name once or so but unless it's actually your name, I feel like he wouldn't be able to guess...
✧ but if it is... he'd come up one day to you and he like "hey, so this one artist has the same name as you!" and then it's up to you if you lie to him or tell the truth!
✧ once he discovers you're a producer of those darker songs, he's both surprised yet still supportive! How could he not?
✧ he admires the fact you create your own music just like that and it doesn't matter what it's about, he'll still be the first one to listen all of your songs and albums
"Y/NNNN WHY DIDN'T YOU TOLD ME YOU PUBLISHED A NEW SONG?!! No! I need to listen to it right now!"
✧ you know how he acts towards L/n? Yup, he's the same fangirl for you
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@bleachtheidiot @akitosheart @bad-the-an-enjoyer @yulikesminori @alicewinterway18 @nenes-numberonefan - come get your future star!
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✧ Emu would be the one that somehow heard your artist name here and there but never really listened to any of your songs... sad songs just aren't her cup of tea!
✧ even if your artist name is similar to your real name, I feel like she wouldn't catch it... she'll just realize you create music when you tell her about it
✧ she tried giving a chance to this type of songs but even with thought her lover made it... she's just unable to enjoy it when song is so sad...
✧ speaking of which, now she's concerned about you! Like.. what's going on in your life that you feel the need to write such a sad songs with even sadder meanings...?
✧ but skipping the meaning part... she's actually really impressed you're a composer! She finds it all so cool!
✧ if she ever visits your room after getting to know what you do, she'll definitely ask you if you can create music together and she surprisingly had lots of fun ideas...
"And then we could go like HAHAHA! So everyone listening will inmidietly smile because it's so unexpected and fun!"
✧ believe her, she's not trying to change your composing style... she just gets ideas like that naturally!
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@bleachtheidiot @akitosheart @hayillaaaaaaa @miguelito-maruti-blog - come get your smiley girl!
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✧ Nene would certainly listen to darker songs from time to time, but I feel like it'd mostly happen when she's playing games...
✧ let's say there's a boss fight, then she'll play some harder songs and the meaning doesn't really matter to her at that moment
✧ but if she's having nostalgic/sad moment in game, she'll go for sadder songs and if they have darker lyrics? Only better for her!
✧ so there's a high chance she heard your songs a lot and finally one day decided to check your profile to see what other songs you hide there
✧ now the name... if your artist name is the same as your real, you can't even fool her, she immidietly knows it just be you... because what'd the chance?!
✧ if your name is something far different... she may have troubles guessing it's you, especially that she doesn't usually spend her time thinking who the artist might really be...
✧ but once you reveal you're a music producer, I feel like she'd have few guesses onto which one you might be...
✧ but no matter if she guesses or not, she'll definitely listen to your songs more often! Maybe also when she's learning her lines and she has a sadder moment?
"Oh? So it is you? Well I need to tell you, your songs can really get me in the nostalgic mood, especially when I played that one mystery visual novel I told you about."
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@bleachtheidiot @akitosheart @bl4cktourmaline @nenes-numberonefan - come get your shy gamer~
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✧ Rui definitely had a depressed songs phase in middle school, so naturally, whenever he hears one of the old songs popping up or new ones, he usually sticks with them
✧ he usually doesn't even focus on meaning anymore, if he likes the instrumentals, that's enough of a reason for him to add the song to his favorites!
✧ and of course, he noticed he got a lot of your songs on his playlist... so he checked out your profile!
✧ if your artist name is same or similar your real name, he immidietly knows it but decides to simply tease you by pretending he doesn't and is simply big fan of your artist self
✧ if your name is far different... it takes him a while but he gets it either way! I feel like he'd for fun try to figure out who some artists are before they to face or identity reveal and he usually guessed correctly!
✧ so don't be surprised when one day he comes to you like "hey, your recent song was great!" and leaves you dumbfounded because how did he know?!!
"Hehe~ c'mon, you can't think I'm that blind! You can't lie to your own boyfriendy about such a thing, my dear."
✧ definitely teases the heck out of you about being a fan since he's not afraid to admit it
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@bleachtheidiot @akitosheart @yulikesminori @toyaswif3y @bl4cktourmaline @r4wrclwz @superstar-ethereal @stellas-starry-stove13 @alicewinterway18 @nenes-numberonefan - come get your crazy inventor~
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rhaenyras · 8 months
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Lately, I’ve been going through some deep soul-searching about money and class. I’m a mixed-race East and South Asian person (Chinese father and Pakistani mother), and I grew up in a family that is descended from an indentured worker background. Growing up, we were always struggling financially. I got involved in social movements both because of my class background and my queerness (my racial consciousness came later on). My parents had a “model minority” mentality, always encouraging me to pursue education, make money and get ahead, but I always pushed back against this capitalist mindset. I did end up going to law school, but always worked in non-profit advocacy positions, mostly for migrant workers. 
Long story short, I did that for a bunch of years, as well as volunteer activism on the side. I got burned out. I know I did some good work that helped people, but for every success it seemed like there were a bunch more failures. And there was so much conflict and infighting in the activism and advocacy world. Eventually I just couldn’t take it anymore, it was ruining my mental health and my relationship with my partner, so I quit. I took a bunch of time off, and then I had to work again to pay the bills. When I returned to work, I took a government job, and I make way more money than I ever thought I would. I have benefits and a work-life balance but the work is in opposition to my politics. At best, it’s meaningless bureaucracy, and at worst, the work we do might actually be harmful to marginalized communities. I try to use my position to minimize the harm, but you know how these things are. It’s all a giant machine, and I’m a part of it. 
I think about going back to advocacy work all the time, but I actually just can’t stomach it. I get anxious just thinking about it. And the truth is, I like having more money and stability. Everything was a struggle before, and now it’s easier. I can take care of myself and my partner now, and I don’t want to give that up. I feel awful saying it, but it’s true. I can’t really talk about this with my activist friends, because I know they wouldn’t understand, and when I talk about it with my non-activist friends, they basically just tell me I have to look out for number one, which isn’t helpful. Am I an awful person ? Have I sold my soul ? What can I do to live according to my values, but to also have a sustainable work-life balance ?
i also work in administration. specifically i make passports for italian citizens that can use those to freely travel the world and cross international borders as privileged eu citizens. of course I don't believe in all that. I don't believe borders should exist in the first place and i dont like the fact that sometimes i have to deny help to people who don't qualify for our services as extra-eu citizens. but what can i do? quit the best most stimulating job I've ever landed and that has helped me to start a new life in a brand new country? i know im just another brick in the wall and that it's not my fault if the system is faulted at the root and leaves someone behind. if anything, i try to work with the grey areas and have many times undertaken unauthorized actions that my superiors didn't agree with when i issued certificates that extra-eu citizens could use to apply for a visa or long term residence permit here in germany. we can work with whatever freedom of movement we're allotted in our respective positions without necessarily losing those positions. in fact, it's better if people like us hold these positions, lest they go to racist homophobic sexist assholes. if anything we can still offer some word of advice (we're still privileged compared to them but at least we emphatise and understand the problem) or try to pull some levers and see what we can do to at least mend the structural defect. aaand. activism can be something you do for free, online or irl, without the prospect of a financial reward. it's sad but, most times activism is just volunteering and you can't make a living out of that. im not ashamed to say that most of my activism is now online and that it takes up most of my free time. i understand if you wanna feel like you do something more permanent and worthwhile with your time by physically being out there and helping people but there's only so much time and energy one can count on in a day. it's frustrating but it's true and we have to compromise. your desire to be ubiquitous is admirable but simply unfeasible. besides, online activism is on the rise and I've noticed that the english speaking side of most social media could definitely use some activists for a variety of social battles. if i were you, i would look into that
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vilevampire · 1 year
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Hey, you like Raimundo along with Jack, right? And you're Brazilian. Feel free not to answer this if you don't wanna okay. I just thought you'd be best suited. Like when you commented on the "Rai" nickname.
I'm wondering if you perhaps have any thoughts or headcanons on him, family, hobbies, his inner thoughts, cause I wanna flesh him out for my fic and stuff. I'll give you credit for the ideas of course
even though I'm not that active in the xs fandom currently you've surprisingly come to the right person bc I've rambled a bit about raimundo hcs before to my friends. I had to dig up some discord messages to find all my hcs
I hc raimundo to be white-passing and mixed race, which is like the majority of brazilian ppl tbh. side note: in brazil "race" is defined almost solely by skin color, so like if I left my country it's possible I'd be considered a person of color because of my features, but in brazil I'm considered white. raimundo would be in a similar situation
so in these discord messages past!lucas has said "the only mentions of his background is that he has 8 siblings with a lots of aunts and uncles" and "he mentions that the 'rough' part of rio is his 'element'". now, I, lucas of the present, barely rmr this bc it's been forever ago since I watched xs, but I'm trusting past!lucas on this I think he would never lie to me. based on that I'm a fan of the theory raimundo is an orphan and grew up as part of the lower class. I don't think I ever theorized what the fuck happened to his parents, but I like the idea of him acquiring abandonment issues because of it. since he grew up poor I think he'd also have a lot of survival skills, knowing how to make due with very little, etc.
I actually just thought abt this but it's very uncommon for latino people to only have two names. I myself have four, bc the family names just keep adding on top of each other when u marry instead of being absorbed into the husband's name. so realistically raimundo would probably has at least one other family name
not exactly a hc but something interesting to note about mundo is that he is a good example of something we call a "malandro" in brazil. a malandro is a brazilian concept of a cunning anti-hero who outsmarts, deceives and takes advantage of others, usually for personal gain. describing it like this makes it sound like a bad word, but it has a positive connotation. like culturally being malandro is considered a good thing. we even have a saying that goes like "every day a malandro (in this case a scammer) and a sucker (in this case the one who gets scammed) leave their houses.", implying that if you're not the one taking advantage of others, you're the one being taken advantage of. I don't think this was intentional on the xs writers' part to make raimundo embody these traits so perfectly that r culturally significant to brazil but and I find it interesting.
similar thing to above we also have something called "gambiarra", which is like achieving something through improvised means instead of the "correct" (and usually more expensive) way. also very important to brazilian culture and I think raimundo would be adept in it
#asks#lindendragon#this is all I have. hope that helps#there's a lot I could say about um. languages#like languages he speaks and the way he would speak them but. the thing abt that one is that it's such a complex subject#and it's so often misunderstood how it works by ppl who r monolingual#and it's Reeeeally hard if not outright impossible to accurately write a bilingual character if ur not bilingual urself#and even if you ARE bilingual u have to speak the same languages they do#bc the speech patterns from diff languages r different and they carry over to the newly acquired language but since they're specific#you can't just write them if you don't know what they are#example. in brazil it's really common to use religious expressions like 'oh my god'. like way more common than in other places#I didn't grow up religious AT ALL like I don't know a single prayer#but it's super normal for me to go 'may god hear you' or 'only god knows' or#'holy mary' to express surprise and stuff#english has similar expressions too of course everyone says 'oh my god' and 'holy shit' and 'jesus christ'#but we have MORE of them and we say them MORE often#so bc the way ideas r expressed is unique to every language. if you're not familiar with the language it's near impossible#to accurately write a bilingual character#books and fics where the character randomly speaks another language in the middle of their sentence for no reason#is a pet peeve of mine#bc ok that can happen sometimes but it's so much more complicated than that. there's a lot more things that happen#to the way you express yourself when you're speaking a language that is not your native one#one thing for sure for me who's been fluent in english for about 10 years now . I can say for sure that I fucking hate speaking this langua#I find it restricting. it's inflexible compared to portuguese and I can't express myself as freely as I would like#anw I didn't mean to ramble in the tags abt this HEAHIUWEHAI#thank you for the ask I love raimundo and feel free to ask me more stuff if you have questions#xs#raimundo#raimundo pedrosa#xiaolin showdown
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I genuinely tear up whenever I think about how English fans are learning Spanish for Quackity and how Spanish fans are learning English for him. He's really loved.
#i talk#dsmp talk#I have now moved from ''genuinely tear up'' to ''I am currently crying my eyes out rn thinking about it''#maybe this is a bit too tmi for a frickin tumblr post but#I'm Mexican and I've always been really deeply ashamed that I can't speak Spanish#esp because I look white passing and Ive dealt with the whole ''but you dont SEEM Mexican!'' thing my whole life#which — as someone who has always been fiercely proud of her heritage — never failed to piss me off#but I've always been too scared to practice with other people or with family#because I'm still afraid of that judgement and I'm afraid of not being seen as ''good enough'' or ''Mexican enough''#and like. I know I am I KNOW I am and there's no invisible standard or whatever I need to prove myself to#but at the same time. those kinda things build up over the years y'know?#then I got into DSMP and I found out Quackity was Mexican too#and I got really invested in his character and him as a person / creator#and when he joined Karmaland I finally decided to start practicing Spanish#and like. I've never been someone who could learn Any Kind of language outside of a classroom setting#and it's hard and frustrating and embarassing more than anything else#but I saw Quackity post about today's lore on his Spanish twitter a bit ago saying people should watch it even if its in English#and one of his Spanish-speaking fans responded to it saying how they started doing English duolingo for him#and like y'know Ive been an English teacher for ages and I'm always quick to congratulate people because learning a new language is hard#so I (in Spanish) respond by saying that I'm learning Spanish so I can watch Karmaland#and I say how amazing it is how everyone's learning a different language for Quackity and I wish them good luck#and I'm looking at the responses to both our comments rn and it's making me cry more#because the English and Spanish communities are both so enthusiastic and supportive of each other because we all love Quackity#I'm not really sure how to put my emotions into words but. it's nice to see that support. it's nice to feel seen by my own people#and it's nice to see that love trancends culture and language barriers#I see so much bad stuff in the world but then I see stuff like this & it makes me bawl my eyes out because we're all just people in the end#something about human connection and love and communication#I dunno. Quackity is very important to me and so is his community.#Anyways I know lore's gonna kill me today because this just made me bawl for 10 minutes#karmaland talk
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noaestheticacademic · 5 months
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On the Identity of "Chat"
Like all the linguistics folks on Tumblr, I've been sent the "chat is a fourth person pronoun" post by a bunch of well-meaning people and and I've been thinking waaay too much about it. @hbmmaster made a wonderful post explaining exactly why "chat" ISN'T a fourth person pronoun, and after reading it I wanted to go a little deeper on what it might actually be doing linguistically, because it is a really interesting phenomenon. Here's a little proposal on what might be going on, with the caveat that it's not backed up by a sociolinguistic survey (which would be fun but more than I could throw together this morning).
On Pronouns
Studying linguistics has been really beneficial for me because understanding that language is constantly changing helped me to become comfortable with using they/them pronouns for myself. I've since done a decent amount of work with pronouns, and here are some basic ideas.
A basic substitution test shows that "chat" is not syntactically a pronoun: it can't be replaced with a pronoun in a sentence.
"Chat, what do we think about that?"
"He*, what do we think about that?" (* = ungrammatical, a native speaker of English would think it sounds wrong)
Linguists identify pronouns as bundles of features identifying the speaker, addressee, and/or someone outside the current discourse. So, a first person pronoun refers to the speaker, a second person pronoun refers to the addressee, and a third person pronoun refers to someone who is neither the speaker nor the addressee (but who is still known to the speaker and addressee). This configuration doesn't leave a lot of room for a "fourth" person. But the intuition people have that "chat" refers to something external to the discourse is worth exploring.
Hypothesis 1: Chat is a fourth-person pronoun.
We've knocked this one right out.
Hypothesis 2: Chat is an address term.
So what's an address term? These are words like "dude, bro, girl, sir" that we use to talk to people. In the original context where "chat" appears - streamers addressing their viewers - it is absolutely an address term. We can easily replace "chat" with any of these address terms in the example sentence above. It's clear that the speaker is referring to a specific group (viewers) who are observing and commenting on (but not fully participating in) the discourse of the stream. The distinction between OBSERVATION and PARTICIPATION is a secret tool that will come in handy later.
But when a student in a classroom says "wow chat, I hate this," is that student referring to their peers as a chat? In other words, is the student expecting any sort of participation or observation by the other students of their utterance? Could "chat" be replaced with "guys" in this instance and retain its nuance? My intuition as a zillenial (which could be way off, please drop your intuitions in the comments) is that the relationship between a streamer and chat is not exactly what the speaker in this case expects out of their peers. Which brings me to...
Hypothesis 3: chat is a stylistic index.
What's an index in linguistics? To put it very simply, it's anything that has acquired a social meaning based on the context in which it's said. In its original streaming context, it's an address term. But it can be used in contexts where there is not a chat, or even any group of people that could be abstracted into being a chat. Instead, people use this linguistic structure to explicitly mimic the style which streamers use.
And that much seems obvious, right? Of course people are mimicking streamers. It doesn't take a graduate degree to figure that out. What's interesting to me is why people choose to employ streaming language in certain scenarios. How is it different from the same sentence, minus the streamer style?
This all comes down to the indexicality, or social meaning, of streamer speak. This is where I ask you all to take over: what sorts of attitudes and qualities do you associate with that kind of person and that kind of speech? I think it has to do with (here it comes!) the PARTICIPANT/OBSERVER distinction. By framing speech as having observers, a speaker takes on the persona of someone who is observed - a self-styled celebrity. To use "chat" is to position oneself as a celebrity, and in some cases even to mock the notion of such a position. We can see a logical path from how streamers use "chat" as an address term to how it is co-opted to reference streamer culture and that celebrity/observer relationship in non-streaming mediated discourse. If we think about it that way, then it's easy to see why the "fourth person pronoun" post is so appealing. It highlights a discourse relationship that is being invoked wherein "chat" is not a group but a style.
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emeritusemeritus · 9 months
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Beloved, Besotted, Betrothed. [Fred Weasley x Reader]
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Title: Beloved, Besotted, Betrothed.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader.
Timeline: {DH1} set during Bill and Fleur’s wedding. No mentions of War or Voldy.
Summary: Weddings always bring out the best in people, but you hadn’t expected it to bring out something else entirely within Fred.
Warnings: SMUT. P in v sex, oral sex both male and female receiving, Role-play, illusions to choking, Fred has a wife kink? Innocence kink. Strong cursing. Mentions that reader has curves and large breasts. Established relationship. Talk of marriage.
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"Oh Molly you look beautiful," you say as you step into the kitchen, seeing your boyfriend's mum all dolled up ready for her eldest son's wedding. You had been upstairs getting ready with the bride and the rest of the bridesmaids, finishing your hair and makeup when you remembered that Fleur's fascinator was still in the box on the kitchen table.
The men had been tasked with setting up the marquee outside and had been essentially banished from the house as the women got ready, with strict warnings from Molly to not mess about, those warnings no doubt pointedly aimed at Fred and George.
"Oh thank you dear," she says blushing as she fusses with a piece of her hair, flustered by the compliment.
She was wearing a long green and turquoise patterned dress with flowing sleeves, a little satin waistband and a ruffled pattern on her right shoulder that resembled a flower. Her signature red hair had been curled with one section pinned back and decorated with a beautiful antique hair brooch and her makeup complimented her look perfectly.
"It's so nice to be all dressed up," she giggles as she waved her wand slightly, the plates of food on the counter becoming magically wrapped by a covering to keep the food fresh. You smile at her, nodding your head to agree as you spot the box from the table, choosing to spend a little time with Molly before retreating back upstairs.
"I wish it were you and Fred getting married today," she says with a sigh, looking out the window towards the Weasley men, and Harry, who are all trying to erect the tent. Your chest swells as you spot Fred looking so handsome in his suit, minus the blazer jacket, his golden waistcoat glimmering in the sun as he concentrates on the spot he's lifting with his wand.
"Molly," you playfully scold, knowing exactly what she meant by that. She gives you a little look where she pretends to be contrite for just a moment before scrunching her nose up and shrugging.
Fleur was not her first choice of daughter in law as she'd admitted to you more than once that she found her bossy and rude and had questioned the longevity of their relationship as she believed they were rushing into things, that the physical attraction between them was the most prominent reason why they were together.
Truthfully, you quite liked Fleur. She could be a little off handed with some of her comments, a little too quick to say what she thought rather than consider the effect of her words but you always thought it could be because of her having to mentally translate before speaking English. You couldn't deny that she had not made clever moves to try and impress Mr and Mrs Weasley and had inadvertently criticised their home, the family and Molly's favourite singer, Celestina Warbeck, all in the same sentence. If you hadn't been so protective of the Weasley family, you'd probably had actually found it impressive that she'd managed to offend nearly everyone in the household in less than two minutes.
You'd met during your sixth year at Hogwarts when the triwizard tournament had taken place and had become good friends with her and two of her Beauxton schoolmates Colette and Clemence, both of whom were also bridesmaids.
"I'm just saying," Molly says with a little knowing smirk. "I can't wait to have you as my daughter."
"Then you'll have to talk to your son," you quipped, casting one last look back outside to where the men were still trying to get the tent up straight, seeing even from afar that Fred's tongue had slipped out to rest in his bottom lip, something he did when he was concentrating hard.
"Believe me I will," she says with a smile, reaching out to pat your shoulder before walking over to the sink to busy herself.
You grab the box with Fleur's fascinator in and return back upstairs to finish getting the bride ready. Once Fleur was ready, you quickly changed into your bridesmaid's dress, each of you helping zip the others up before smoothing out your curled hair in front of the mirror.
The dress was a beautiful grey silk with a blue undertone that clung to every one of your curves, perfectly tailored to your body. Each dress was just slightly different but all had the same structure and little cape over the shoulders that was reminiscent of their Beauxbaton school uniform, a little ode to their magical roots.
"Fred will die when he sees you in that," Colette says as she appears behind you in the mirror, a smile tugging at her glossy lips as she looks at you. Her accent never failed to make you smile, hearing her try to pronounce 'Fred' in such a thick, French accent was always a little humorous to you.
"Oh hush," you say, casting one last glance at your body, smoothing out any lines in the silk.
You had to admit that you did feel incredibly sexy in the dress, though it was still modest in principle, it definitely showcased your features splendidly. Your breasts were considerably fuller than the other girls who all had slim figures and small breasts whereas you had a more hourglass figure that was openly showcased in the dress, something you knew Fred would enjoy greatly. You'd had to make adjustments to the cups of the dress multiple times in fittings as your breasts didn't fit in the same style as the others and so with a little ingenuity from the tailors, they'd adapted your dress to hold your chest a little better.
You checked the time and saw that there was still half an hour to go before the ceremony was due to begin and so you began to clear away the makeup and beauty stuff that littered the room.
Fleur's mother knocked on the door a little while later and you decided to leave them for a private moment, just Fleur, Gabrielle and their mother.
You passed Ginny as you walked down the stairs, seeing her eyebrows shoot up as she looked at you. Ginny had not been a bridesmaid, on account of her dislike for the bride. Bill hadn't been offended and truthfully neither had Fleur but you still felt a bit of guilt at being a bridesmaid at her own brothers wedding when she wasn't.
"Has Fred seen you yet?" She asks, walking in her dressing gown towards her room.
"No? Hello by the way," you replied, a little confused by her smirk but instead of replying she simply giggled and slipped through the door of her bedroom.
You hadn't expected to see anyone except Molly downstairs, knowing that the boys had been banished, but when you reached the kitchen it wasn't Molly that you saw leaning against the counter. Fred.
He was facing away from you, reading the paper from what you could see, his hip resting on the counter as he leaned down, looking devastatingly handsome, even from behind.
"What do you think?" You asked quietly, creeping into the kitchen. You didn't miss his little jump of surprise, which made you bite back a smile as he turned towards you, smirking already as it he was already planning a snarky reply.
The second he turned and saw you, his mouth opened on its own accord, jaw dropping, seeing him freeze as he openly gawked at you. You had to bite back a laugh at his reaction, seeing that it was even better than you'd hoped.
"I," he began to say before clearing his throat, his fingers doing an involuntary dance at his sides as his eyes take over you, before fixing his gaze to your breasts. "I think it's illegal to look hotter than the bride on her wedding day."
You laugh and watch as he seems to bounce back to usual, though his gaze linger a little longer on your curves before he reaches out to you. You place your hand in his and he pulls you gently towards him, delicately placing his arms around you as to not crease your dress.
"Ah, lipstick," you say, pulling away from him as he tries to kiss you, making him frown and pout at your denial of a kiss. "I promise you can mess it up after the ceremony." His eyes a little as he shoots a wicked smirk at you, his hands wandering over the soft fabric of your dress, running his hands over the curve of your waist.
"You look so beautiful," he says, smiling down at you. Even with your heels, he still towers over you with his height.
"And you look very handsome," you replied, reaching up to push his hair back from his face as you smile at each other.
"Well don't you look nice," George says, interrupting your moment, walking in with his bandage wrapped tightly around his head.
You turn and smile at him as Fred grumbles under his breath for his twin ruining the moment.
"How are you feeling Georgie?" You ask, looking at him with concern, even though it had been nearly five days since he received the unfortunate curse, you were still worried about his pain levels and him in general.
"Stable enough to walk down the aisle with you," he winks, earning another grumble from Fred. He'd been overwhelmingly annoyed at not being able to walk with you down the aisle even though he was also a groomsman but Molly had insisted on the fact, knowing it was both tradition and superstition that unmarried couples should never walk down the aisle together. Fred had instead been paired with Gabrielle, Fleur's younger sister, whilst you were paired with George, a rather unfair deal he had stated.
"I better get back," you said, your gaze flickering to the stairs, knowing that you needed to get Fleur ready for the ceremony.
"I love you," Fred says, a surprisingly sentimental tone to his voice that made you pause, his hand now holding yours as he looks at you with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat.
"I love you more," you say teasingly, slowly pulling away from him as you climb the stairs once more to help the bride.
The ceremony was beautiful and the newlyweds looked utterly joyful and in love, with smiles all around. You could feel Fred's eyes on you at multiple times during the ceremony and each time without fail he would either wink at you or smile sarcastically sweetly, trying to break up the formality of the situation.
At the reception, you'd been carrying out your role as bridesmaid flawlessly, helping with gifts, chatting to guests and even helping Fleur go to the toilet in her elaborate, poofy dress. When you returned to the marquee, you could see Fred and Molly chatting in the corner and so you took a seat next to George at the table, resting your head on his shoulder as the early morning and demand of the day began catching up with you.
"Tired, maid of the bride?" George joked as he shifted down a little in his seat so that you would be able to rest your head on his shoulder without straining. You simply nodded in reply, closing your eyes for just a moment before opening them and looking around the room at everyone you loved, all of whom enjoying themselves.
"Mind if I steal my girl?" A familiar voice asks from behind you and you can't help but smile as you lift your head from George's shoulder and look up to find Fred with his hand outstretched, ready to steal you away. You place your hand in his and he leads you to the dance floor as a slow song begins to play.
"This is familiar, eh princess?" He smirks, taking your waist in his other hand as he pulls you close. "I thought nothing would ever top your Yule ball dress but you always manage to surprise me." You smile up at him and can't help but study his gorgeous features, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world in that moment. Memories of the Yule ball danced in your mind, Fred's long hair, your glittering dress and the fun you had that night making a smile erupt on your face.
"You know, when we get married I hope there's none of this crap," he says, looking around at the slightly overdone decorations, curtesy of Fleur's imagination and her father's wallet.
"When?" You asked, a little teasing smile tugging at your lips, "that's a little presumptuous don't you think Weasley?" He smirks, spinning you gently in his arms before pulling you back into his chest, holding you even closer.
"Princess I've been calling you my future wife since the moment we first met, ask George," he chuckles slightly, still rocking you in his arms. "There's no one else I would ever want to call my wife."
You smiled up at him and reached up to press a kiss to his lips in the middle of the dance floor, not caring once bit about the mass of people around you. He kisses you back immediately, also unfazed by the people around you as you sink completely into the moment, just the feel of Fred around you and the sound of the music in the background.
"Have I told you how beautiful you look?" He says dreamily, his hand stroking the spot on your waist where it resides.
"Not in the last hour," you tease with a smile.
"Then I must apologise, a woman as beautiful as you deserves to be told constantly."
"I think you're drunk," you say with a blush at his words and he chuckles whilst shaking his head.
"Just in love," he replies giving you a look of utter adoration that takes your breath away.
You dance for a little while with Fred before George steals you away for a dance, then Bill and then Arthur. You laugh as Arthur twirls you around, seeing Fred doing the same to Ginny not too far away from you. You'd never felt more loved and included than you did in that moment, feeling like a Weasley already. Fred eventually steals you back from his dad as a more rambunctious song comes on and you dance wildly around the dance floor between both the twins, no longer caring about holding your composure or ruining your dress as you fling your arms about, jumping around with the younger guests.
You couldn't help but tease Fred as the night carries on, dancing a little more provocatively as the upbeat music continues, swinging your hips as you dance. You lightly grind against him acting as if it was an accident at first but he soon realises exactly what you're doing, his hands coming up to grip your hips hard as he stands behind you and leans down to talk in your ear so you'd hear him over the music.
"I know what you're doing princess," he says breathily in your ear, pressing his crotch tightly to your backside. Apparently your little deviant plan was working as you felt his semi-excited member pressed against you which made you smirk.
You soon around and Fred immediately places his arms around you, caging you into his body.
"Want to sneak away?" You said quietly with a little devilish smirk as you flirt with him, "you know, I won't be able to get out of this dress all by myself."
"Let's go princess," he says with a little smirk, patting your bum twice before taking your hand and leading you out of the tent back towards the house. You looked around you, checking that no one was watching but it all truthfulness you couldn't care less.
The house was still deserted when you entered, with all the other family members and guests still partying outside. Fred stopped at the base of the stairs as you began to bunch up the bottom of your dress to climb the mountain of stairs and suddenly lurched at you, picking you up bridal style earning a little surprised squeak from you and a chuckle from him.
He attempted to kiss you whilst you were in his arms and ascending the stairs but you quickly put an end to it, knowing that he'd most likely bang your head on one of the many wooden banisters or worse due to being distracted. As soon as you stepped through the door to his and George's room, he slammed the door shut with his leg, still carrying you as he went to throw you on the bed, briefly muttering a silencing charm before he turns his attention back to you. He wasted no time and crawled on top of you, pausing only briefly to take in the sight of you all dressed up and sprawled out on his bed before he captured you in a delicious kiss.
The kiss deepened immediately with Fred's tongue swiping at your lip, his hands already running over your curves, teasing both himself and you as he puts off touching you in the places you desperately want him to. His kisses begin to extend down your neck, towards your collarbones as you heave out a calming breath, already feeling wonderfully overwhelmed by the sensations. He kisses over your clothes breasts and a flick switches in you, needing to feel his lips everywhere without obstruction. He apparently feels exactly the same and begins fumbling at the little zipper on the side of the dress.
You untie the little cape and let that open wide, waiting for Fred to do the last little clasp which you knew he'd enjoy. You reach for his hand and pull it towards the little clasp in between your breasts which he opens in no time, watching as your naked breasts spill out of the dress, not having been able to wear a bra all day. He curses under his breath as he looks at your bare breasts and you take the time to slide the rest of the fabric down your torso so that you're left in just your lace panties.
"Godric you're beautiful," he says more to himself than anything as he looks over your body before his gaze flicks up to you and he smiles before diving it for another kiss. His hand that he isn't bearing weight on comes up to massage and toy with your breasts and you can't help but run your fingers through his hair, trying to get his mouth where you want it. He senses what you want and immediately begins feasting on your tits, licking and sucking as your sensitive nipples which had you gasping and writhing almost immediately.
You begin pulling as his collar, desperate to get him naked too as you push him, flipping him over so that he was lay flat on the bed. You crawl to straddle him and you don't miss the glimmer in his eyes as your almost naked body climbs over his, breasts swaying as you begin to suck at his neck, making him moan.
You pop open the buttons on his collar, pulling off his tie and open up each individual button, placing a kiss on the newly exposed skin as you make your way down his torso, thankful that he'd taken off his jacket and waistcoat earlier in the night. You almost ripped the shirt off him as soon as the last button was done and you ran your fingers over his gorgeous chest and shoulders, running down his stomach until you reached his little happy trail.
You moved down on the bed so that you were face to face with his crotch and began opening the fastenings of his trousers, pulling them over his hips and down his legs, leaving him in just his boxers, the outline of his impressive length clearly visible. You placed a kiss to his cock through his underwear and heard him groan, knowing he was watching your every move.
You looked up at him and saw his intense gaze, making you smirk as you tugged at the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down, his excited length springing out and falling onto his lower belly as you tug away the underwear, discarding them across the room. The sight of him bare before you, his perfect cock already hard and leaking was enough to make your mouth water and you couldn't help but lean down and press a few fluttering kisses along his length, feeling it twitch against your lips in excitement.
Maintaining eye contact with Fred, you gave him your sexiest look and leant down further to take his cock into your mouth, licking all the way around the sensitive tip as you tasted him. He groaned and shoved his head back against the bed at the sensation as you took more and more of him into your mouth, running your tongue along the veined underside of his cock to extend his pleasure. As you began to bob slowly on his cock, you were rewarded with loud groans and curses of your name from Fred, his cock only hardening further in your mouth.
"Godric princess, your mouth is fucking perfect," he groans in bliss.
Your hand came up to support your ministrations as you began to pump the few inches you weren't sucking, running your hands over his balls and giving them a very gentle tug like he liked, all of which making him writhe and groan.
"Princess, get up here," he says, suddenly reaching his hand out for you. You kisses his tip one last time before crawling up his body, his hands immediately reaching for you as he pulls you into him, one hand cupping your jaw as he pulls you in for a sinful kiss.
"Merlin," he says, pulling away as he runs a hand over his face, "you have no idea what these little white panties are doing to me."
"Do they make me look innocent?" You ask with a little smile, kissing down his jaw, eliciting another breathy moan from Fred.
"Yeah, but it's like you're the bride, making me lose it picturing it being our wedding night," he admits, his hands gripping you tighter in his hold, one large hand cupping and massaging your bum covered by the white lace. Your eyes widen a little in surprise, though he doesn't see, as you take in his words.
"That get you going big boy?" You ask breathily in his ear, still nibbling at his jaw as your hands explore his chest, briefly catching his nipples as you roam. "Picturing me as your bride? You like the idea of fucking your new wife?" He curses and moans, hips surging at your words, answering your question.
"Fuck baby," he whines as your hand wraps around his cock and begins slowly pumping him, your thumb catching the beads of precum and rubbing it into his soft tip.
"Maybe you like the idea of ripping off my sweet, appropriate little wedding dress and seeing exactly what's underneath."
He moans louder than you remembering ever being as your speed increases, your words having an evident affect on him.
"Or is it that everyone would know how good you're fucking your new wife, that everyone would know that I belong to you?" His hips start to stutter and you know he won't last much longer, the mixture of your hand on his cock and the words in his ear almost too much for him as he nods along with you, whining and groaning.
"Mrs Fred Weasley does sound good don't you think?" You ask him with a little smug smile at how he curses, hands scrambling to touch your tits as you pump him. "Y/n Weasley, Fred's wife." He's so close you can almost taste it, knowing he's just need a little nudge with the game you were playing.
"You wanna pretend it's our wedding night? I'll let you do anything you want to me husband, let you fuck everything that's yours."
He moans loudly as his hips stutter, your hand working his quickly as your other hand cups his balls as he erupts, ropes of cum spurting from his cock and landing on his stomach as you pump him through his orgasm, not stopping until his body stops twitching. He's breathless as he comes down from his high, chest heaving as a look of bliss falls over his face.
"Merlin," he says, finally opening his eyes to look at you, seeing your wicked little smirk. "Fuck that was hot." You smile as you reach down to grab his shirt from the floor, wiping his pleasure from his abdomen before throwing it back down onto the floor.
"Now, I think it's time I looked after my bride don't you think?" He says with a wicked grin, hands already pawing at you as he cups your jaw, pulling you into another kiss, his other hand creeping over your curves as he suddenly pushes you down onto the bed. His mouth wastes no time in pleasing you, immediately latching back into your breasts as he goes all out, grabbing, toying and sucking your breasts, never leaving the other one left out.
His fingers begin to drift down your body and tease your inner thighs as your legs part in anticipation, your arousal dripping from you at this point. When Fred's fingers finally slip between your legs and he feels the abundant wetness of your panties he curses again, latching onto your nipple and giving a harsh suck making you gasp.
"Mrs Weasley, so wet for me," he says with a smirk, slipping one finger inside your panties and into your waiting hole. You moan out at the sensation, feeling his thumb come up to toy with your aching clit and you can't help but roll your hips, unable to keep still as his fingers work you perfectly. "So good baby, so fucking perfect."
"Freddie," you keen as he adds a second finger, adjusting his angle so that he can press up against your gspot, making you writhe against him. The panties restrict his movements but it doesn't seem to faze him, working his magic on you.
He suddenly pulls his hand from you, making you whine but he quickly grabs and spins you on the bed so that you're on your hands and knees, his ability to manhandle you so effortlessly only furthering your arousal.
He moved to stand behind you, pulling you towards the edge of the bed as his fingers toy with the white lace panties you're still wearing. His hands hook into the waistband and you feel him rip off your panties, pulling them right down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to him. You gasp as the cool air hits your sensitive pussy lips and within seconds his mouth is on you, feasting deliciously on your dripping cunt.
"Freddie!" You moan, pushing your hips back as his tongue slips between your lips, lapping as your clit before slipping into your little hole. His entire face is pressed against your pussy and you can hardly contain your moans as you feel his mouth playing you like an instrument. His tongue circles your clit before he sucks on it in little bursts, making your hips writhe against his face. He alternates between sucking and licking, covering himself in your arousal before he suddenly pulls open your ass and really dives into your pussy, locking his lips around your clit and sucking, tongue circling the little bud.
"Fred!" You shout as you cum, hips rolling over his face as he laps at you over and over in just the right spot, letting you ride out your pleasure.
Your orgasm has done nothing to calm your arousal, if anything it's only spurred on a further need for Fred as you turn and drag him down onto the bed with you, kissing him feverishly as you feel the signs of his arousal renewed against your leg.
"Freddie, fuck your wife," you say, dragging a breathy moan and a curse from his lips as your hands reach out for him in anyway you can get him, hips raising up in desperation.
"I've got you sweetheart," he reassures you as he kisses you one last time before reaching down to kiss your nipples, hands lifting your legs, seeing you beautifully exposed before him. "My perfect girl, so fucking hot."
"Yeah you got a hot little wife Freddie?" You tease, knowing that your words would only fuel his fire.
"The fucking hottest," he growls, pumping his cock twice before positioning himself right at your entrance.
"Give it to me good Freddie, only you can fuck your wife so good like this."
He curses and grabs hold of his cock, tossing your legs into his shoulders as you feel him slowly sink into you, stretching you out as he gets deeper and deeper. You both moan in unison as he moves his hips, hitting all the right spots inside you before he begins to pick up his pace, big hands holding your thighs tightly. He watches as your breasts begin to bounce in time with his thrusts and you can't help but raise your arms up to grab hold of the metal headboard so you can get leverage to raise your hips in time with his, letting the last inch of his sink into you.
"Yeah you like that sweetheart? Your husband fucking you good? Fuck you are so tight," he says, eyes flicking between your breasts and watching his cock disappear into your pussy.
"So good Freddie," you moan out, arching your back as he pounds into you. "Only you can fuck me this good." You right hand slips off the bed frame and you start to circle your clit for a little extra pleasure until Fred notices and bats your hand away.
"Dirty girl, your husband not taking care of you good enough? Is my big cock not enough for you?" He teases.
You begin to whimper in reply, "no it is, so good baby."
He immediately pulls out of you and flips you over like it's nothing, pulling your hips up slightly before he slams back into you. He takes no prisoners with his thrusting as you feel his balls slapping against you, his left hand gripping your hip so hard it'll almost certainly leave a bruise. His right hand snakes around your hip abs begins toying with your clit deliciously and you can't help but rock your hips, your insides clenching around Fred's thick length as you cry out.
"Oh Freddie!" You cry out, feeling thoroughly fucked as he slams into you. "You're so deep!"
"Come on my little perfect wife, I want you to cum all over your husbands cock," he says, leaning down and changing the angle slightly so that he rubs against your gspot making a silent scream erupt from you. The hand that was holding your hip suddenly shifts and he wraps it around your throat as he fucks into you with abandon, his hips stuttering just enough that you know he's close. His hand doesn't squeeze nor put any pressure on but just feeling his long fingers wrapped around your throat whilst he plays with your clit and pounds into you is enough to send you hurling towards your end.
"Freddie Freddie Freddie!" You chant as you cum, nails clawing into the bedsheets as you feel the white hot pleasure erupt within you, your hips rolling back onto his cock as he pounds you even harder, no doubt feeling your walls squeezing him. He suddenly lets go of your throat and scrambles to grab hold of your hips as he slams his length into you once more and holds you tightly to him, buried entirely in you as he cums. You can feel his cock twitching inside you as he shoots his load as deep in you as he can, groaning and cursing behind you as your name falls from his lips.
After a few moments, he pulls out and watches as his cum begins to dribble out of you, cursing once again at the sight. You feel him shift and he presses a kiss to your back before carefully shifting you so that you were lying on the bed as he slips in next to you, instinctively reaching to pull you into his side.
You lean up and kiss him as his arms snake around you, one hand resting gently over your breast, thumb idly passing over your nipple.
"I love you so much sweetheart," he says, pulling off your lips but never really moving away as he kisses you again.
"I love you Freddie," you say, pouring as much love as you can into your words.
"Gonna marry you one day princess," he mumbles and you can suddenly hear the tiredness in his voice.
"If you're gonna fuck me like that again, I'd marry you right now," you said breathlessly, entwining your fingers with his.
He chuckles, squeezing your hand in his as his eyes close, "give me 10."
"I want to be your wife one day," you say quietly a few moments later, no longer teasing. You feel Fred's eyes open and he looks at you with a look you can't place.
"Sweetheart, nothing would make me happier than you being my wife, but stop talking about it before I get hard again."
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Stray Kids Reaction || You're Being Bullied
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PAIRING: Skz X GN!Reader (Use of Mx in Jisung’s piece: Mx is an English-language neologistic honorific that does not indicate gender)
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - March 2024
⤜MASTERLIST
CHAN:
It had been happening for a few weeks now, whenever you were in the gardens of your University a group of four guys would regularly mock you and it was something that was ruining your love for painting. 
"I was thinking I could bring you some lunch today, I can't stand the thought of you spending all your lunch hour painting in the gardens," Chan mentioned as he walked with you, his hand laced with yours but your heart began to thump with anxiety. You hadn't told him about the bullying yet, you didn't want it to seem as though it was bothering you even if it was.
"What's wrong?" He questioned, already being able to read you like a book. But your eyes were distant and your smile was strained at best and he knew something was bothering you.
"Channie," You breathed out, tears shimmering in your eyes as you finally revealed the torment you faced nearly every single day by the same group of people. Chan's heart shattered into a thousand pieces as he listened to you and he was going to kill anyone that had upset you.
"Who is it?"
"It's not a big deal, I-I'll just go back to painting from the window." You pleaded with him, not wanting to confront anyone about what they had been saying about you but Chan wasn't going to just let it go. 
"It is a big deal," He breathed out, about to continue what he was saying when he heard laughter sounding from behind the two of you.
"I bet they think they'll be the next Vincent Van Gogh." The voice was nailed on a chalkboard for you and your whole body tensed up giving Chan all the confirmation he needed to know it was that group that was always starting on you. 
Within seconds he was turning around to face them, his face red with anger, his eyes blazing as he stared at them,
"You have no right to mock their passion, to belittle their dreams! They are more courageous and talented than any of you could ever hope to be!" Your hands clutched onto Chan's arm, your heart thumping heavily.
Chan continued to yell at them and you stared up at him, each of his words filling you with more confidence than ever as you whimpered a little, he was like your knight in shining armour. 
"Go, paint baby, I'm not done yet." Chan pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and you walked away, going to sit in the gardens and do some painting. From that day on, Chan was by your side every lunch you went down to the gardens just in case someone else had something to say.
MINHO:
Minho had decided that he was going to surprise you today with a small bouquet of all your favourite flowers, all morning long he had envisioned the look of surprise and joy on your face when he would see you. He'd finished up work earlier than he expected and wanted to surprise you as you came out of uni and he was heading to the spot he usually met you. 
But his steps slowed down, his heart sinking as he heard harsh voices echoing around you as you stood there accepting their words. Fury built up inside of him the more he heard them speaking so badly about you.
"HEY! Enough!" He boomed as he walked toward you, the three men who had been surrounding you all paled at the sight of Minho as he wrapped his arm around you.
"Minho? They're with you?"
"Yeah, they're with me. What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" He yelled at them, his tone firm and unwavering as they began to stutter and stumble over their words. Minho turned to look down at you, his gaze softening,
"Hey, sweetheart." He said gently, reaching out and kissing the top of your head.
"Have they been bothering you for a while?" You stared at him before looking at the three men who had been tormenting you for weeks on end and you nodded and by now they looked terrified.
"We didn't know they were with you!" One of them quivered as he stared at you, pleading with you to say something but you stared at Minho. He was the "it" boy in college, the one everybody loved and looked up to and no one messed with him.
"And that gives you an excuse to belittle someone? To make them feel smaller than you? Why? Because you have nothing else in that pea-sized brain of yours?!" By now Minho was beyond angry but you squeezed his hand a little, you were grateful for what he was doing but all you wanted was to go back home with him.
"You're lucky they're here," Minho hisses before wrapping his arm around you and taking you toward his car,
"Thank you," You whispered, your voice barely above a murmur. Minho smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. 
"Always," He smiled warmly, kissing you softly this time.
CHANGBIN:
Changbin had his arms wrapped around you as you sat together on a bench in the University's garden, sharing a tender moment together for the first time in what felt like forever. You'd barely had enough time to breathe during your finals but now the two of you had time for another.
"I love spending time with you, everything feels perfect when we're together," You beamed up at him as he held your hands.
"Me too, Yn. You make everything brighter," He admits, your smile growing wider as you stared up at him, getting completely lost in his eyes when there were suddenly harsh whispers and mocking laughter surrounding you. Your smile faded,
"Look at her, they think they're so pretty." Someone mocked, making your heart drop, you already knew who they were but you'd hoped that they'd leave you alone if they saw you with Changbin.
"Yeah, like anyone would ever look at them twice." The second man cackled as if it was the funniest thing in the world for them. Changbin's eyes darken, his fists clenching as he listened to the cruel words directed at you.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing?!" He yelled, his voice trembling with anger but you shook your head, trying to hide your hurt.
"It's okay. Let's just go," You whispered, you didn't want to cause more drama, you just wanted to enjoy your time with Changbin.
"No, it's not okay. They have no right to talk to you like that!" He was angry with them for talking to you that way and even more pissed off that they had bullied you into believing it was okay. There was no way he was going to let this slide.
"Oh, look who's standing up for his partner. How cute." One of them mocked, your stomach twisting as Changbin turned around to stare at them, quickly rising from where he had been sitting and walking in their direction.
"They're not just my partner. They're an amazing person and you have no right to tear them down." The two men seemed to realise they fucked up as they stared at him, your hands clutched onto Changbin's arm trying to get him to leave.
"We were just joking, man, can't they take a joke?" The first one grumbled at him but Changbin blinked at him,
"Jokes are supposed to be funny, do we look like we're laughing to you?" He waited for them to say something but you pulled at his arm,
"Binnie, let's just go...please."
"No, we're not leaving until they apologise." He folded his arms across his chest, the two men scoffed at you both and rolled their eyes.
"Fine. Whatever. We'll leave them alone." One of them grumbled, about to walk away but Changbin grabbed him by the hood of his jacket.
"Apologise." He growled out, and the man's voice trembled as he turned to face you, both of them apologising instantly and scampering off.
"Are you okay?" Changbin asked, his voice turning gentle as he checked on you.
"I will be, thank you for standing up for me." You sniffled a little and he wraps his arms around you. holding you close to him.
HYUNJIN:
"I bought snacks for our movie night, I also made sure to stock up on your favourite hot drink," You told Hyunjin excitedly as you practically bounced up and down in the hallway. The two of you were going to spend all weekend curled up in bed watching movies, finals were over and it was time to relax. 
"Of course, they got the snacks, I bet they're mostly all for them," Someone snickered from behind you, catching the attention of Hyunjin who frowned a little. You beamed at him, trying to get him to ignore the two girls who had been starting on you all week long, you had no idea who they were but they'd decided you were a problem for them.
"It's going to be amazing," You told him as you took his arm in yours, about to pull him away when you heard giggling.
"They think they're all that," One of the girls mocked, snickering at the other girl who was staring at you both.
"Why would he want to be with someone like that anyway? He could have whoever he wanted and he's chosen the trash," Hyunjin's eyes narrowed as he stared at the two girls.
"Is there a problem, ladies?" He arched his brow at you and you took your head, trying to brush this off.
"It's nothing, just ignore them. It's not worth it."
"No, I won't let them talk about you like that." He grumbled,
"Prince Charming to the rescue," A boy stated as he wrapped his arm around the first girl, your stomach knotting as you stared at the three people who had made your life hell all week.
"We're just stating the obvious, you could have anyone and you're with that thing?" The words were like knives to your chest and you shuddered, looking down at the floor. As soon as Hyunjin saw your head down he lost his cool/
"Yn is an incredible person and deserves to be treated with respect! How would you like it, if someone picked apart your relationship?!" His voice was loud, gaining the attention of other people in the hall.
"We're just messing around, dude. Can't they take a joke?" The guy mumbled defensively, 
"Hyunjin. Let's go." You whispered to him but he didn't move, he just stared at them.
"I love Yn, and anything you have to say to them can be said to me." The two girls stared at you, biting their lips as they looked sheepishly.
"We're sorry." They mumbled, you knew they didn't mean it but right now all you wanted to do was go home.
"Okay." You mumbled grabbing Hyunjin's hand and walking away from it all. 
"I have two weeks left, I could have just ignored them forever."
"I don't care, you don't deserve to be treated that way," Hyunjin whispered as he wrapped his arms around you and brought you crashing into his chest.
"You never have to face anything alone." He promised you.
JISUNG:
Jisung walked through the corridors trying to make his way to the courtyard to find you, he'd just picked you both up some lunch and was ready for a long break filled with nothing but food and cuddles with you but when he walked closer he froze in place.
"Look who it is, Little Mx perfect." Someone sneered, his eyes narrowed as he saw Tessa and Lucy - two girls he had once considered friends mocking you.
"Yeah, always with their nose in a book, like they're better than everyone else." Jisung's hands tightened on the food containers as he saw the distressed look on your face. 
"What's going on?" Jisung asked, his voice filled with anger as he stared at you, he could already see how relieved you were to see him.
"Jisung, I.." You were trying to come up with an excuse, something you could say that wouldn't make him hate them since they were his friends.
"We were practising lines for a play," Tessa told him with a sweet smile, her body swaying from side to side to appear more innocent.
"Funny. I thought I heard you mocking Yn for reading their book," He placed the food containers down beside you and kissed the top of your head.
"No-"
"Is it because the two of you can barely read above a 5th-grade level between you that bothers you? Or that Yn is my partner?" He folded his arms across his chest and your mouth fell open hearing them talk to them the way that they had with you.
"Jisung!" Tessa squealed but he shook his head at them, he wasn't going to let this go on.
"How long has this been going on?" Jisung directed his question at you and you bit your lip.
"Since we got together," You admitted shyly and he hummed,
"If you can't treat my partner with respect I don't see why I should offer you respect back."
"You've known us longer!" Lucy screamed but Jisung shrugged his shoulders.
"Treat people the way you wish to be treated," He mumbled, taking your hand in his and picking up the food with the other before walking away. Checking on you as you both went to find another spot to sit in.
FELIX:
As soon as Felix had gotten the but dial from your phone he was working his way to you, his anger bubbling up more and more as he thought back to what he'd overheard. Two girls were confronting you about something, their voices dripping with malice.
"I think you should pour your drink on them, anything would be an improvement from that outfit." One of them giggled, Felix knew them as Bailey and Chloe, the university's "mean girls" because apparently it didn't end after high school.
"I'm sorry, okay? I didn't know you guys sat here." Your voice shook as you gathered up all your books, trying to move past them but Chloe pushed you back onto the seat.
"Are they addressing us?" She asked snarkily to Bailey who was giggling and undoing the lid to her coffee.
"Ew. Why do you think you could even speak to us?" Bailey asked, your head shaking as you tried to think of something to say.
"What's going on?" Felix asked as he jogged up to all three of you, your body relaxed as soon as you saw him.
"Why don't you go and mind your own business? This doesn't concern you." Bailey hissed at him, Felix ignored them as he pushed past them and checked on you.
"It does when you're harassing my partner." He grumbled at them,
"You're together?" Bailey's voice shook his time as she and Chloe stared at each other in complete shock.
"Did they hurt you?" Felix asked, ignoring them as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.
"We didn't know they were with you." Chloe defended but Felix scoffed at them.
"It shouldn't matter if they were or not! You should treat everyone with some fucking respect!" He grumbled at them, a tense silence washed over everyone as he stared at them, waiting for them to apologise to you but they just blinked at you both.
"Are you going to say sorry or not?" He bit out before they both stared at you,
"We're sorry, Yn. Truly. We didn't know." Bailey stuttered but you bit down on your tongue, Felix was right it shouldn't matter if you were a couple or not for them to start on you.
"Go." He mumbled to them before turning his full attention to you, checking on you as tears ran down your cheeks.
"Thanks for standing up for me, Lix." You breathed out before he pulled you into a comforting embrace.
SEUNGMIN:
Seungmin lingered outside of your last class of the day, the two of you had plans to study after your classes had finished before going to dinner in the night.
"Did you see what Yn was wearing today? They look like they've raided a thrift store." Someone snickered as they left the class,
"Yeah, did you see the state of the shoes too? They're a complete disaster," The two men were so lost in their own conversation that they didn't notice Seungmin grabbing them both by their hoods.
"What did you say?"
"Seungmin! Don't!" You pleaded with him, this was going to be more hassle than it was worth. The two boneheads he was confronting didn't care who you were or who Seungmin was and they would go back to bullying you tomorrow.
"They do this a lot?" Seungmin arched his brow at you and you nodded shyly, 
"So knucklehead one and two, want to tell me what about my partner is so funny to bully?" He slammed them against a wall, both of them groaning as they rubbed their shoulders from the impact.
"Relax man, we're just kidding around, right Yn?" They stared at you, both of them glaring as they tried to scare you into submission,
"R-Right-"
"Bullshit, I've seen the way they come out of the classes they share with you," Seungmin was beyond angry at this point, he knew something had been bothering you but he'd never been able to pinpoint it until now.
"I want you to apologise."
"Sorry." They both mumbled, completely unapologetic as you stared at them,
"Fucking mean it, you waste of space!" Seungmin mumbled to them, both of them stuttering as they began to apologise.
"I find out either of you have been talking about them again I'll rip your tongues out," Seungmin whispered in the sweetest voice he could manage before taking your arm around his and walking with you.
"Screw studying let's grab food and go to mine." He told you as you giggled, kissing his cheek softly.
"My knight in shining armour." You whispered.
JEONGIN:
Jeongin made his way back to the library with two hot drinks for you both, he'd decided it was time for a short break and a reward for studying together so hard but when he came back he froze in place.
"Who would even want to hang out with them? Such a nerd." Someone laughed from the table directly in front of yours, he knew the men as Levi and Christian and he instantly wanted to pour the drinks he was holding onto them. They got into the University because they were good and sports and not much else, never studied a day in their lives either.
"Nose buried in their books, they think they're better than everyone else around them," Levi hissed out, Jeongin's heart pounding with fury as he made his way over to stand behind the two losers talking badly about you. But the worst part was that you weren't looking up, as if you were used to the torment they were dishing out. 
"They're too chicken to say anything too," Christian laughed, balling up some paper and throwing it at your head. You glanced up, your eyes widening as you saw your boyfriend standing behind them.
"Awh, is the little baby going to go cry to their boyfriend?" Levi asked before Jeongin placed his hands on both their shoulders, the drink resting on a shelf nearby.
"J-Jeongin?" Levi sputtered out, staring up at him as Jeongin stared down at him.
"Something to say, Levi?" He waited for them to repeat what they had been saying but they shook their heads violently.
"Stange, I could have sworn you were belittling my partner because they have brains." By now the two men were terrified and shaking their heads more, turning to look at you for help but you were laughing into your hands.
"N-No, we were just kidding around, having some fun," Christian mumbled but Jeongin hummed,
"Making fun of someone isn't fun, besides. I'm surprised you two have the intelligence to bully someone, let alone know where the library is." He picked up his drinks again and the two men began apologising profusely in your direction.
"Something funny?" Jeongin chuckled as he sat down beside you, your lips finding his as you kissed him deeply. 
"Just how scared they are of you." You smirked, kissing him softly once again.
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yourlocalstranger123 · 11 months
Text
||Mermaid Miguel||
Artist: NikSaf (or NikSaf_art) app: Twitter
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Note: I'm using a translator for Spanish. You can correct me if you want. [The way I made this fic so random]
When it said: "I can't eat raw fish" (but, for sure, we're gonna eat some raw fish 🤭) [help. I'm being held hostage by my friend unless I type this. Help]
Part 2 —
Honestly. You were just on a small land, but enough resources to live at least. You're the only person who lives there, but some people visit left and right sometimes. You had a very calm and peaceful life until you accidentally....fish out a VERY big....fish?
You dragged him up even though he was a little heavy with both of your arms hooked with his or just. Straight up carrying him princess style. (Or even dragging him by the tail)
You. Were. Stunned.....you fished out a Merman?! Honestly, you thought mermaids were just fairytales, but I guess not since you're seeing one right now! (Damn, but this one is a hot lookin fish— I mean. Merman)
You were panicking. Should you run? Or check if it's alive? Ask him if he's ok? Wait. Can he even speak english? Or can he even speak at all??? While you were in the abyss of your thoughts, the unknown merman just stared at you.
When you finally collected your thoughts, you felt water spashing on you, well. Not that much. It's more like sprinkling since he's just shaking his hair from the water. He suddenly backed away from you, claws open. (Wait....fish has claws?—)
You put both of your hands in the air as a sign of peace. Not wanting to be looked as a threat. He tilted his head and just slowly backed away, slipping back into the water. Welp, that's gonna be the last time you'll ever see such a beauty again.
You laid there, fishing rod in your hand as you wait for a fish to pull on the string. Basking in the sunlight in such comfort that you could fall asleep if it wasn't for a certain stare burning a hole through you...
Miguel frowning as he watched you just sitting there. Not even bothering to look who was staring at you and just letting them. (Him)
He wonders why you're just. There. You don't even bother going back to that place called a city. You just. Stayed. He's been actually stalking watching you for a while. Waiting for the moment for you to leave to make his heart stop racing and ache.
But not for a single moment, you never left. He even tried many tactics to make you leave, like leaving fish blood, dead bodies of ocean animals, or anything! But. You just...shrugged.
He became increasingly interested in you. Even to the point his tail is wagging like a dog waiting for its owner excitedly. He found out you fell asleep as he sneakily went up to you, dragging his body with his arms. Finally, getting a good look on you, he felt memorized.
Before he left, he tried nuzzling his face to yours, feeling the soft flesh against his. Just like how he saw other humans showing physical affection to each other. Feeling satisfied, he left in a swift motion before you woke up.
The next day, you decided to fish again as it's now your hobby since it's been a bit boring ever since you came to the land. You flinched when you felt a hand that felt like it was soaked in water, taking off your hat that was covering your face.
You see the same handsome merman, looking at you in curiosity. Pausing as you don't know what to do. You put your hand out for him since he kept staring at it as if interested. He slowly and softly put his head on your hand. Nuzzling it as his tail seemed to swish left to right in a wagging motion.
You were about to say something until he went back into the water and after a few minutes, he rose up from the water with a fish in his mouth. He went closer to you, reaching for your lap as he dropped the fish in your hands.
"You....want me to eat this?"
He nodded. Oh. Wait. Seems like he knows english-
You just put it back behind your back, "thanks. I will, uhh, eat it later."
He frowned. Making you feel very nervous. So you just tried walking away to get things to maybe make a fireplace so you can at least cook it to make it edible for you. He noticed this and grabbed your wrist, thinking that your leaving him.
He pulled you over to him, hugging you tightly and not letting go. "Uhh...Mermaid man, im trying to-"
"My name is....Miguel. Not Mermaid Man."
You were stunned. He could also speak? You patted his head as he snuggled you closer.
"no me dejes solo...por favor?"
You paused. Thinking what to do. You'll just simply tell him, "I can't eat raw fish, pretty boy."
He paused at the mention to him as pretty boy. He quickly lets you go, looking away so you can't see the blush on his face. You quietly went away, getting some wood for the fireplace.
After you come back, you see him, miguel in the water, waiting for you. You patted your lap as Miguel hesitantly but hurryingly comes over to you. He flinched when you put a wet towel on his neck where his gills were but slowly got comfortable. (I think Mermaids need their gills to not be dry so they can breathe)
He watches you cook the fish and take a bite out of it. You offered one to him as he took a bite out of it. After a few minutes, he tugged your sleeves. Looking at you as if waiting for you to feed him again. Sighing, you broke off a piece and fed it to him.
Maybe living with a Merman isn't so bad after all.
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spncvr · 2 months
Text
waiting room | s. reid
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summary: spencer can't seem to escape the girl in the waiting room
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
warnings: mentions of reid's addiction & tobias hankel, mentions of kidnapping and mass shootings (in, like, a joking way??) my terrible, terrible humour, ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE LMAO, this is deffo terrible, pls tell me if i missed anything!!
a/n: ok idk if i wanna continue this and make it a series so lmk lol (also im on writers block so i literally can't come up with SHIT)
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SPENCER REID WAS a pessimist.
At least, that’s what he’d call himself. His colleague, Derek Morgan would most likely (and by most likely, he means, definitely already has) call him an overanalysing introvert. But in Spencer’s defense, there has never really been a good reason to go out and “live your life”. Consider this:
Go to the new coffee shop? Mass shooting.
Go to the mall? A child gets abducted.
Leave the apartment for a short while? A stalker finds out where he lives, kidnaps him in his sleep, and, in a nightmarish turn, auctions off his organs to the bidder in the black market.
Besides, his life isn’t some John Green book. There were no life-affirming adventures or poetic moments of self-discovery awaiting him. Carpe diem? A fanciful notion for others, but for him, not so much. Sorry, Mr. Keating.
Yet life—or more accurately, bureau protocol— had its own plans. Ever since the Tobias Hankel incident, a visit to the psychologist wasn’t just a request but rather (unfortunately for him) an order. Which meant, he’d have to risk his entire life to get up and walk for ten whole minutes just to sit and wait, in this glaringly bright waiting room, when he could have stayed at home and read the new books he’d gotten from his team as a get-well gift.
Speaking of which, why the gifts? He was fine. Physically, at least. But really, when have you ever seen get-well-soon cards in an asylum? Well, alright, maybe he was being a little bit dramatic. A visit to the psychologist doesn’t mean he’ll be institutionalised—but then again, Spencer Reid was never one to wear rose-tinted glasses. 
This is his third time in the waiting room, and she’s always there. He isn’t sure as to why she is, because, well, unlike himself, she was very clearly an optimist—and at least, from the looks of it, she hasn’t been kidnapped and drugged in the past month. But she's sitting there again, in the exact same chair for the past three weeks, along with a beacon of smiles where joy usually fears to trend. Maybe, he isn't as good of a profiler as he’d like to think he is.
“Dr. Reid?” the call of his name rips him out of his thoughts. He looks up to see the same kind woman he’s seen the past three weeks—not the one in the waiting room, no, he means his therapist.
Dr. Brown was easy to profile: She wore heels to make herself look taller, and she hated wearing glasses, apparent by how she would continuously place them atop her head instead of her nose. Her teeth were abnormally perfect, which meant, she’d had to wear braces when she was younger—which (from his humbling experience) means she wasn’t exactly the most popular at school. Perhaps, psychology felt appealing to her because she could help people like her. 
“How are you?” she asks, her pen clicking.
Usually, he’d offer her a meek shrug. The kind that could win awards for its commitment to non-commitment. Besides, he’s not one to talk about how he feels—there isn’t much to say, anyway. And let’s face it,  “How are you?” in the grand tapestry of human interaction is almost as genuine as a three-dollar bill. And, get this, the average person asks “How are you?” 6,739 times a year but only listens to the answer about half the time—well, okay, maybe those numbers might have been fabricated, but isn’t the sincerity behind the question also made up? But instead of telling her all this, he remembers what Hotch had told him, one, two, three weeks ago: that he ought to cooperate with Dr. Brown or the board won’t be happy. So, he kisses his teeth before he says:
“Fine. I’m fine.”
And the session went on.
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PLS TELL ME IF I SHLD CONTIUE OR NOT LOLOLOL spam my inbox with ideas I BEG.
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cyrusthedragon · 11 months
Text
Mother of his child
Explicit ‼️ MDNI ‼️ NSFW 18+
I promised and I did: Simon sucks his wife's titties while talking about a big happy family with her.
Relationship: Simon Ghost Riley / f!Reader
Tags: porn with plot, dominance, married couple, rough sex, established relationship, breastfeeding, creampie, LOTS of dirty talk, some of spit play, LOTS of milk, LOTS of breeding, LOTS of 'mama'-calling, nasty stuff, happy family fluff for aftercare, size kink, sex after some time, no "Ghost", babying Simon.
Simon Riley really loves his wife, like... possessively. Almost obsessively.
Notes:
f!Reader gained weight after giving birth, and she has too much milk. Greedy and perverted Simon can't think about her selling her milk to people who have feeding problems. He's jealous.
You and Simon serve(d) together.
(Kinda, cuz it's funny, but not actually) Bossy!Reader in the end.
You and Simon have a newborn child.
Trigger warning: English isn't my first language, so, please, write a comment if I did a good job, I need to know if it's good, cuz I'm not really sure. But i enjoyed writing it! You can subscribe to me, I'll write a lot more about him! And I take requests, hehehe, especially most dirty ones. So. Please, enjoy ♥️
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AO3
"You'll bore a hole in me..." you said under your breath, touching baby girl with just your fingertips and not taking your eyes off of her.
Simon immediately straightened his back, paying attention to the book in his hands again, and you chuckled softly:
"What's going on in your mind, baby?"
Silence in the room, only a soft melody from somewhere in the house, and the three of you sitting in your bedroom: you, feeding your precious baby girl, she, smacking from the delicious milk, and your husband, trying to pretend he's reading his book. Considering how he didn't touch a single page for the last fifteen minutes, he was either repeating that one spread or trying to memorize it all.
Or just being a pervert.
It's Simon we're talking about, no one on Earth would ever suspect him of thinking about something nasty, but... You were his wife. Mother of his child.
You knew there was something in those blue eyes of his - he looked at you exactly like that one day when you... When you decided to have a child.
You weren't, actually.
It was an accident.
But when you told him about your pregnancy and asked if you should take a Plan B, for one moment after that horrific word, he looked at you, almost shaking from nervousness, with something in his eyes that you recognized as a... Reluctance? "Yeah," he cleaned his throat, moved his gaze away because, obviously, the floor was way more interesting than a damn pregnancy test in your hands, "yes, you're right, Plan B... We shouldn't.. we should, uh...". Words have never been one of his strengths, if you were not in bed.
You looked at him trying very hard to say something, and one thing in him just matched you so perfectly, that for one second you thought maybe.. maybe...
"Can we keep-"
"What if we..."
You said it at the same time, and neither you nor he understood who was saying what, but the excitement was so loud, that you couldn't resist impulses to grab his hands. Neither could he help but stretch out his arms to you and hold you to give you a hug, even if he himself was just as terribly scared.
That shit was scary. No doubt.
It would not have been that horrifying if not for these thoughts of yours. Common.
"If we..." you heard Simon speaking, felt him swallowing loudly, "Maybe, if.. maybe we can..."
"Can keep it?" you helped, squeezing him with all your strength just to feel yourself safe. "You think we can?.."
"I think... I think I want to, but.."
"You want?"
And that was the moment when you moved away a little to look him straight in the eyes, seeking there for something you weren't sure exactly what.
"Yes?.." he answered under his breath. As freaked out as you were. Of course, he was. Both of you were soldiers, to the core. No one of you ever dares to dream about having a baby... It's a huge responsibility, and neither he nor you thought you could handle it, that's why you always used protection to minimalize your chances. It doesn't mean you didn't want to - hell yes you wanted, especially with Simon, and the more you got to know him, the better you understood he wanted this, too.
A family.
A real family, bonded with each other, someone you can hold in your hand and give all your love, all your affection, untapped awe for having something you and Simon created together. Holy hell, you married a dead man, did you think you had no strength for a little human? Just a baby? It took almost half of a year for you and Simon to finally get married, you took his last name and did it with all your patience, although the boys in one-four-one started calling you Mrs. Riley a long time before you became Mrs. Riley, and all these troubles, years of waiting for something with him, all this situationship, candy-bouquet period, all of it...for being afraid of having a child? It can't be that ha-
You were selfish.
Thinking about yourself, not your baby, who would most likely live alternately with one parent, then with the other - depending on which one of you would be called for a mission. You knew it. You knew you can have your parental leave, for twelve weeks, and, and, and...
"..ve. Love!" you shuddered - Simon rarely used to raise his voice at you, and often it was because of how easily you were distracted by thinking about something very important to you. You lose your patience when you were afraid of something. You blinked, looked up at him, and suddenly he was so calm that you were immediately infected by his calmness, without realizing it. "Breathe, love," he whispered, holding your face in his palms, so huge compared to your head. "Do you want to keep her?" and when he asked, looking you dead in the eyes, he already knew your answer, but...
You breathed out: "Her?"
Eyes to eyes, one very important dialogue without a single word between you, your shiny to his bright, deep ocean blue. "I want a girl," he whispered, not even blinking. "I want a boy", you said lowing your voice to match his, and he nodded, pulling you closer to touch your forehead with his. "Then... Let's see who it will be," Simon's lips were so close to yours, you half closed your eyes, pressed your lips into a tight line, and then closed them completely when he murmured in your mouth before kissing you full of his endless gratitude: "...shall we?"
And that was it.
You lost your little bet and were very happy about it.
The little one was happy, too, sucking milk, already ready for her beauty sleep, so beautiful, and a bit... sassy, biting your swollen nipple with per pink gums, making you hiss and chuckle softly. She had her father's shiny eyes. Your love. Your precious child.
"Simon, darling, you're staring." You finally moved your eyes from your daughter to your husband, smiled at him and he could no longer pretend he was reading his book. He wasn't. "Am I?" you heard him sighing, but his gaze started to be a little more... heavier than a second before you decided it was enough for baby girl and took her away from your chest. "Yes, darling, you are," your voice softened, small one whined, lying on the bed, twitching her hands and feet, and you giggled: "What a greedy creature... Never enough for her." But she quickly calmed down - the music changed to a comforting lullaby... You could finally get up and stretch your legs, fix your dressing gown, and move to Simon, sitting on the armchair.
"You didn't answered my question."
Baby monitor right behind your girl, and you allowed yourself to go straight to the kitchen - hungry as hell, while Simon simply followed your steps God knows why.
"What question?" He asked, watching you getting your snacks.
Bare feet, loose hair, mid-thigh gown, and the wet spots in it, right in front of your nipples. You're still leaking. And mouth-watering. And holy shit he just can't stop looking at your covered chest, how heavy your breasts are, how they freely jiggle when you're just moving. "Simon." he can't hear you, all his nature is focused there where your nipples touch your closes, these eyes are wild. You watched him, busy analyzing your chest or whatever, and didn't get yet the hell was wrong, but it's Simon, so... Whatever he was thinking about he would tell you, sooner or later.
But you didn't expect 'sooner' will be that...soon.
You turned your back to him to find something in the fridge and gasped when he suddenly lifted you, sitting you on the table, face to him. "Riley, the hell are you?!-" and then you met his eyes again.
Truly, wild.
"What? Eat your food, love." his voice was strange, he completely was strange, something just cracked in you, a blush appeared in your cheeks immediately, then he pulled back the gown and your hand trembled, accidentally dropping a snack on the floor.
He bared your chest with a face like nothing happened, and you swallowed your tongue like a proper coward, did not know how - did not want to - stop him and did not even try to interrupt whatever he was going to do. You felt the shivers down your spine - his hands on your ribs, fingertips almost tickling you, forcing you to smile, but there was nothing to smile about, just your husband being odd and making your legs shake with just his hands.
God, you didn't touch him for almost six months...
"I can't," you whispered, shutting your eyes while feeling his hand off you and somehow knowing for sure he was pulling his mask up to his nose.
"Why?" The hoarse voice of his just drove you crazy. Your brain was about to explode with this sudden satisfaction he brought to you by massaging your torso and jelly belly, and you couldn't answer properly: "Because you... What are you... Just take what you want already." You hissed, and maybe it would be fear for him to feel embarrassed by your tone and hands, hugging his head, but he did not care anymore or simply did not understand that, so he just... Did it.
You felt his wide tongue in front of your nipple.
And you inhaled.
"Simon... Simon, what are you doing, Simon..."
Your voice was less caring than you wanted it to be, and he didn't even look at you to answer: "Joining you to eat a snack."
"Oh I'm a snack now, wonderful..." words came out of your mouth before you shut it, "You little pervert, are you seriously going to su-... Oh, god."
Tongue swept all over your breast before Simon straightened up to his full height - and even though you were sitting on the table, he had to tilt his head to look at you. Giant. His gaze was much heavier than before, his pupils bigger, his brows furrowed to let you know, he was ashamed of you:
"That's how your talking to a baby, love?" Simon murmured and you did not even try to believe what you heard. He continued, seeing your confusion: "I see... I'm no longer your baby, am I?"
"Wha-.."
Oh.
'"What's going on in your mind, baby?"'
So that's what it was all about.
"You pervert," you said, watching him laying you down on the table and towering over you like he was some kind of mountain of muscles. This whole situation was quite crazy, and you swallowed, losing all your boldness just because of how dominant he became, taking your hands in his one so tightly that you couldn't move your fingers if you wanted to. Breath-taking Simon. First, you met on your first night together. A completely different person than what you usually see. His gaze was on you, examining you - how the fabric glided effortlessly over your body, showing up your ribs, tummy, chubby sides (you gained some weight after giving birth and were a little worried about it, but the way he cravingly looked at your fat...), your white panties, already wet for him. Of course, you were wet. He was between your legs, holding your hands, ready to eat you up.
"'Baby?..'" you whispered under him, trying to move your feet, but his other hand grabbed your knee abruptly and pushed it aside, leaving you completely open to him. "Don't try to hide, mama," you gasped at his words, heart started beating faster, and his head lowered to touch your belly with his lips. Soft and full. "It's nothing you need to be ashamed of.. if it's not me. Are you ashamed of me, mama?". Impossible, how he affected you with this damn 'mama' spoken by his powerful, quiet voice, "You don't need to be ashamed. Didn't you say today that your breasts are full? Don't you remember?".
You swallowed your saliva, chest up and down, and your voice cracked when Simon slightly touched underneath your filled breast, "I said we can sell it... There are many people with.. problems with.. with feeding. Simon, what are you-"
"Stop asking. You don't trust me?"
"I do, but-"
"No 'but'."
You should've said something, but when he grabbed your tit with his wide palm, compressed your nipple lightly between the index and middle fingers, everything that was in your head vanished immediately. Milk ran out over his fingers, to his wrist, and tangled in his short hair above the tattoo. "So easily, mama," he murmured, following the drop of your milk, "you're so full.. and you wanna give this to someone else? You wanna take it away from our daughter? Deprive her of that, mama? Is that what you want for her?"
You just said there's too much milk in you, useless milk, because your girl never starved, but the mere idea of giving part of you to someone who wasn't his child, just made him so, so jealous. You choked - Simon pulled your nipple with his fingers as if in punishment.
"No, no, of course not, I just wanted..."
And then the moon fell:
"You can give it to me." Your eyes widen in shock. And you saw him raise his milk-stained hand and watched his tongue follow the line from elbow to finger, licking your juice. "Sweet..." He murmured, "So sweet, so delicious..." And before you even realized, he sat you up at that table, wrapped his hand around you, and pressed his open, greedy mouth to your milking breast, moaning, like it was the best thing he ever tasted. A cry escaped your lips, you instantly grabbed his head, closed your eyes tightly - your nipples were so, so sensitive after feeding, and now he almost ate 'em. Shivers ran through your body, every cell was tense, trembling legs closed behind his back, as if locking him with a fuckin' padlock pressed against your body, yet still fully dressed. "Madman," you whined, squeezing the back of his balaclava, "you're a madman, Simon Riley, you're out of your mind...Teeth-!" Your sob forced him to let go of your chest with a loud smack, just like your baby did before, and the marks of his teeth were clearly visible on the soft, full flesh around your nipple.
"Watch your teeth- god, you-" you cried out, almost ready to hit him on the back, but then he, stooped, suddenly looked up at you, so innocent, so open, that something in your gut began to tighten. "Something wrong, mama?" He said, and you miraculously felt how his second hand was lost between your thighs. Breath didn't want to recover, he clung to you, pressing his cheek against your chest, and milk flowed out of you harder.
"No..." You answered, not sure if he's a pervert for calling you 'mama', or you for enjoying it so much, "Nothing wrong, baby... Just.. watch your teeth, okay?" Eyes to eyes, without a blink, you sucked air through your teeth and slowly put your trembling hand at his half-covered cheek, stroking until he closed his eyes, "You want to be good for mama, don't you, baby?"
"Mhm", he whispered, kissing your hand softly.
You didn't know your first sex with Simon after such a long time would be like that, but his finger, just one, was in your underwear and it pressed your clit so good, that you almost lost your mind, tilt you head back.
"I will be good for you, but I'm so mad at you..." Suddenly his voice softened and your hips tensed; his palm was fully in your panties, squeezing your cunt, pressing the middle finger to the entrance.
"Why mad, baby?.."
"I'm so mad you want to give yourself to someone else, mama," and when he opened his eyes, his finger entered you on the first finger phalanx, you hold your breath and bit your lip - you forget how big his fingers were, one of his like two of yours, and there was no lubricant, just your sloppy juices. Every tiny scar on his finger was fully felt, every callus, every cut. "You wanted to share yourself with hell knows who. That's how you feel about us, love? Is that it? Instead of giving everything to your, to my child, our child, you were going to.. what?" finger thrust further, you gasped, he pressed you into himself tighten. One small kiss to your neck and you already was useless, when he lifted you again and whispered in your ear while carrying you to the couch and putting you on his thighs so that you could lay down on him completely naked.
You don't need clothes, do you?
"You were going to waste it, love." He continued. "Instead of calling me, your husband, to help you."
"Help me with what?.. sucking this milk?.."
"Exactly, love."
You would've chuckled, but then there was a crack and your torn panties fell to the floor.
He tore them on you.
Animal.
"Beast..." You whispered, putting your head on his shoulder and feeling him squeezing your tits once more with both his hands.
"Me?" Simon's soft laughter was almost unbelievable, "No, no... I'm not. You are. A little cow, mama. Leaking your sweet milk. Just like a cow. Allowing me to drink it..." he pressed his face into your chest, threw you back, milk splashed from your nipples and hit him right on the balaclava, "What a mess you are. You're looking? Look carefully." fingers squeezed one nipple, twisted, pulled, milk splashed in all directions, flowed all over your chest and down to your torso, and his hands, warm, making you whine and mumble in pain in half with pleasure, just like a cow. "Oh love, and not just here. Don't take your eyes off, watch how wet you are, you ruined my clothes," his second hand went down to your groin, suddenly you wanted to cover yourself, but his middle and index fingers had already opened your vulva, revealing his hungry gaze your lower lips. "Look at you, you're soaking, mama... Do you hear it? That's your sound."
The sloshing of your juices as he circled around your entrance, the crackling of his clothes as you squeezed his shoulders, your whimpering as he purposely ignored your hard clit - all this cacophony was his symphony for your ears, and only yours.
"You sound so well, love..."
"Simon.. Simon, please, Simon..."
"What 'please'?"
"Simon, please, I want to kiss you..."
"Kiss me then."
"No! No! Please, Simon, I want to kiss you so bad... Please let me just-" and your shaking fingers touched the edges of his balaclava, throwing aside.
Scars.
Scars all over his face.
His bright eyes, his short blond hair, and all these scars made him look way older than he was. Breath-taking Simon.
You couldn't resist the impulse to praise him like he always secretly loved:
"You're so beautiful..." Fingers ran over his cheeks, cheekbones, brows, nose, lips, so kissable, you pressed your mouth to his with a hiss, feeling Simon again in you with his whole finger. "Damnit, baby..." You said, silencing him by taking his tongue with yours.
His hand on your ass, his finger fucking you, so tight girl, he loves feeling your walls around him, up and down - you got up on him, fucking yourself with his finger, and lowered to feel how he put his second finger to your entrance. Your breath hitched as he broadened your entrance, slowly pushing himself inside. Juices sloshing, his panting against your neck, his other hand gripping your ass so hard it threatened to bruise it, and his fingers fucking you like he was re-examining you - twisting the hand, pushing in, speeding up and massaging your inner lips and your clit, making you moan so loud, thank god rooms were soundproof. "I want to be inside you so bad, mama..." You heard him, hissing in your skin, biting it with his sharp teeth, you could've just hugged him tighten, "So wet, so delicious, look at you, how beautiful you are, ready to carry my second child...are you ready, mama?"
"Second child?.." you whispered barely audible, eyes watering from his aggressive pounding, and almost whining when the sound of unfastening the belt reached your ears and the cold steel of its plate touched your hot skin.
"Of course," and he didn't even stop pounding you, that dirty pervert; pulled his boxers down, letting the cool air touch the head of his cock. Red, wet head. Big. Thick. You didn't have to look at it to instantly lower your palms down and, howling like a wild dog, grab his cock with your both hands. "Fuck, love..." He cursed, clutching your ass, "You missed me, huh? Did you?"
"I did, I did, so much, baby, so much..." your trembling voice, your confident hands stroking his already hard fat dick, your cunt, shrinking from the memory of how sweetly he filled you that last time before your pregnancy... You, cock-drunk, beneath him, full with his thick hot sperm and covered by it all over your body - your ass, your vulva, your belly, your face; he came so much then, it was your first night together after you both returned from your mission. And now you can have it again... Finally.
"Pink on your cheeks suits you, love," he murmured, stroking your cheek like you did with his, "but I prefer your tears..." and before you even understood, his tongue already was on your face, licking off salty tears, mumbling, moving his hips to you while you jerked him off. "Everywhere... Wet everywhere... Did you always have been such a dirty fat slut?.. Crying, milking, soaking... I can eat you alive. Show me your mouth," he took his hand off your butt, roughly opened your mouth, looked, "Oh, I see... Would you mind, if I-"
And you felt his saliva on your tongue before Simon finished his sentence.
"There you go, such a good girl..."
But he didn't even think about letting you swallow his spit, and while you were trying to get back into rhythm, drunk on his saliva, he threw you onto the sofa, covering you from above, like a goddamn wall: "No, no, don't close your mouth." An animal, a real beast, twice your size, towered over you, mocked you, deprived you of his fingers and you could only helplessly scratch his hands near your head and push your pelvis in him, trying to somehow sit on his cock with your pathetic leaky pussy. "Don't close your mouth, you don't want me to fuck you, mama?" Sly bastard, so different, so cold, so soft for all of them, role model, best fighter, squad pride...Made fun of you, so turned on. You nearly hated him for this, but couldn't deny how you loved him above you.
"I want," trembled lips parted, saliva flowed slowly down your tongue to its root, your heavy breath was the only music for him.
"You want? Then be good for me, and I'll be good for you, mama, your good, good baby boy, mama... I would be anything for you, open your mouth, open it, let me fill you everywhere, will you, please?"
You barely had time to grab his short hair when he pressed his mouth to your mouth, but your tongues did not touch each other, you only shared your breath with him, as you always did, and when the tip of his fat cock touched your entrance, you held your breath, feeling how, along with his length, ripping you apart, widening you, inch by inch, he poured into you also his spit. Thick saliva - that's how hungry he was for you, his mouth was full of this viscous liquid.
"Good mama," words were hard for you, he closed his eyes, stopped at how tight you were, grabbed your leg, and slung it on his belt, thrusting deeper into you. Each vein on his long cock, each brought so much pleasure to extremely tight you... It was nearly impossible to move, but he always was stubborn and even when the drop of sweat ran over his neck, he continued entering you, sadistically slowly. "Relax for me," he almost begged, and you whispered:
"I've already..."
"So that's how tight you actually are, then, huh?" Seems Simon was starting to lose patience, fingers of one hand pressed on the upholstery of the sofa near your head, the second he squeezed your breast as if in revenge: "I almost forgot how it's like...when you're not in the shape of my cock." he sucked in air through clenched teeth, staring into the tears in your eyes, like he wanted to lick them again, "But it's okay..." He continued, thrusting you exactly to halfway of his cock, "We have plenty of time to make you perfect for me again, love. It's okay. I'll fuck you 'til you'll be open for me every time I want to fill you with my cum. You like my cum?" you cried, his heavy hand gave a slap on your ass, "Of course you do... Mama's such a slutty thing, she's always ready for me to cum in her, give her so much of my sperm, so she can give birth to our future big family."
"Big..." You whined about how he was ripping you with his dick, demonically slowly to the very core, to the root. You felt the warmth of his full, heavy balls, as he promised, filled with his cum just for you, and your back arched in an unthinkable angle, as soon as you felt the coarse hair on his groin.
"Yes, love, big family," and even his mumbling reached you with difficulty, you suffered on him, scratched him, beat, squeezed him with your legs, wriggled like a snake, and he hung over you, indestructible, like a rock, tried to take a breath from the pain in the cock. "Me, you, our children, so many children..."
And there was the first thrust.
Right on the nerves.
Until the pitiful cry and eyes rolled back.
Big, big, big-
So fucking big-
"What, you can't handle me anymore?" his hoarse rough voice came from above and your body shook as he thrust into you and slap your thigh, leaving the big red shape of his five fingers. "How you're going to have my children then? Be the mother of my babies, raise 'em, feed 'em with that delicious milk of yours-" Simon compressed one of your nipples again and you choked on a scream as the milk spurted freely up. "Dirty, dirty mama..." Was his only response.
And he fucked you.
To the cries, putting all his strength into you, moaning loud and clear, just like you love, forcing you to beg for his cock, but already fuckin' you, watching your tits jiggle and milk splash everywhere, spoil his clothes, get on your cheeks. To legs shaking, to an exhausted body, growling in your face how much he's going to cum in you so that you burst from his sperm, pregnant with his children, forever, for your whole life, so everyone, every fucking single one from everywhere could see whose are you, who you belong to. This belly, squishy and fatty, this face, these tits, hips, legs, feet, mouth, this milk, and other juices, these eyes, beautiful, beautiful eyes, these delicious lips, this heart and soul - all, all for him and his children, all for the Riley family, all of it for them and no one else, no one fuckin' else. You're trapped here, you're never gonna leave this man and his child, you belong to them with your whole being, you understand that? Do you, mama? Do you understand there's no escape, he would fight Death if that sucker would ever allow himself to at least think about taking you away from Simon; he would fight Death, and he would kill it because no one has the slightest right to take even a piece of you from him.
"Mine," he groaned, sinking his fangs into your neck, suddenly grabbing you by the waist and lifting so that you sat on his cock as tightly as physically possible, and kept fucking you, beating out from you every moan, every deep scratch your nails left on his shoulders as you bathed his neck with your tears. Pressed into each other, like two halves of a whole, crazy, lost in each other, interwoven, and you won’t understand where you begin and he ends. Your cunt hurts, but the pain is so sweet that you're not sure you want to cut it, you're not sure you want him to stop, to be more gentle, not pounding you like a fucking hammer, and the angle is so right - you can feel not just his dick deep inside you, but how your clit is stimulated by him, his rough movements. Oh, this beast, this madman, this insane man... So insane just for you. You cried out, moaned: "Simon... Simon! Simon!" as if it was the only thing you remembered in your life, and the rubbing of your bare nipples against his outer clothing forced you to snuggle closer to him and at the same time as if trying to get away from him.
He was no longer there, he was all inside you, thrusting you like it was his last day, angry, but carrying you so perfectly that you could've let yourself lay on him, and you knew he would never let you fall.
"Simon, Simon, listen, listen to me, please-" your trembling voice almost vanished in all these sex sounds, but he pushed you closer (there was no 'closer') and you simply whined: "Simon, I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum, I'm going to- I want to cum so bad- please, Simon, I wanna cum, I want you to cum, please, cum with me, please-" Your fingers pulled back his hair. You yourself pulled back, arched in your back, and instantly your muscles contracted on his cock, forcing him to fall, falling with you on the soft sofa. A little more and he would've crushed you with his weight, but with a desperate groan he managed to grab your hands and, lacing your fingers together, lean on them to hang over you, not for a second slowing down the speed of his deep, passionate thrusts.
Your useless legs struggled to stay on his lower back, your breasts were shaking painfully and you felt the blessing of heaven when he clung to you, pressed, as tightly as it was physically possible, and instantly squeezed you in both his hands. "Cum for me," he moaned in your ear, his veiny cock almost touched your uterus, but it seemed that if he wanted to, he would fuck your womb just to impregnate you. "Cum for me, mama, let me see how happy you are to be pregnant for me, just for me, showing people how you love me, scream, mama..."
Heavy breathing, deep unforgiving pounds, bursting cock, burning heart, nails scratching his strong broad back, ribs compressed with iron arms - and you, so tiny compared to him, you, so little, so fragile looking in his arms... were ready for anything for this man. "Cum for me," he ordered, grunted, and you tensed on him, squeezed him with all your might to his own loud moan, and tears gushed from your helplessly rolled eyes. His moans, low but beautiful, just for you, were the only thing you heard in your petite mort.
And his seed filling you, hot, thick, was the only thing you felt.
The maddening feeling of being filled with rich cum, his cum, your husband's, your man's, drove you to a silent scream, to open mouth from which no sound came out, and saliva flowing down from the edge of your mouth only to dry on your cheek when you tilted your head back. And as if boiling sperm in you, poured into your insides.
"Greedy mama..." you didn't even come to your senses when you focused your blurred vision on Simon overhanging you, cupping your wet cheek with his large hand. His quiet, purring voice settled in your head like a gooey honey. You could nearly discriminate his words. Not understanding what was happening around, hearing only his voice and feeling only him in you, you were like gutted and thrown into the light while his sweat dripped on you from above, and his heavy breathing only miraculously did not blow you away. "Just like that..." Even his voice cracked, this man couldn't resist the devil, and mumbled inaudibly: "So good for me... So good... Such a good girl..."
Hot seed in you, his weight on you, his warmth all over you, his loud breath and your inner muscles tightening and loosening around him while he, overstimulated, continued moving in you, also overstimulated, and the movements were so...gentle ... So soft... His soft pounds, his smooth swings, almost like trying to rock you, but that orgasm was so blinding, you couldn't breathe, you couldn't concentrate on the outer world, just him and his hands, his hips between your legs, his balls tightly pressed to you, his cock inside you completely... So... Soft... Hot... Your body temperature was almost past its peak... And that gentle touch Simon gave you on your belly, lying his head on your shoulder.
After what he did, you barely remember how carrying he was... This big softie...
"You..." your hoarse voice sounded like you hadn't spoken in at least ten years, there was fuckin' Sahara in your throat, and your eyes couldn't even close from the experienced orgasm, "What you just... What you... Wha-...."
Tied tongue refused to obey.
You literally could not utter a word, only mumbling something incomprehensible.
Boneless.
Dry out.
Dehydrated.
The son of a bitch literally sucked all the juice out of you.
"Si..bl... Bml... Ah......"
And when he, as exhausted as you, pulled away to kiss you on the pink hot cheek, after all, that he had done, you nearly could look at how calm he was.
"You alright, love?"
Blue eyes glanced at you in slight worry, he stroked your wet hair, raised himself with both hands to look at you, but you could not take your eyes off him. You stared at him in disbelief or shock - doesn't matter, you just experienced the nastiest sex in your life, and he was so calm, so confident, like nothing happened, like it was a daily basis for you - being fucked 'til semiconscious state while your husband was 'mama'-calling you and sucking your tits, and, holy shit, did that really-
"Do I..." You swallowed, looking him dead in the eyes, without a single blink. "Do I look like I'm alright?... Do I?... And what happened with 'mama', baby?.. what happened with 'mama'?" suddenly your voice became demanding, insistent, from somewhere you found the strength to weakly hit him in his rock-hard shoulder, and Simon's eyes flashed with shame for a second, then he moved them from you, almost trying to hide, while leaving your core and sitting on the edge of the sofa at your useless boneless legs still shaking from whatever the hell that just was.
He inhaled, "I..."
"Shut up." and he closed his mouth instantly, staring at the floor, even before he heard properly what you said. "You sucked my milk."
"Um..."
"I said shut the fuck up- You just- where are my pills?"
"What?"
The slight surprise in his voice almost pissed you off and it was funny how he almost trembled with fear and tried to shrink under your gaze: he, that behemoth of a man, two meters tall, mountain of muscles, Lieutenant, a brave soldier of the Queen, Chain Dog of Captain Price and Commander Lasswell, trembling under your gaze, your, women half his height, twice as weaker than he ever was, furthermore, unable now to even wake up on her own, move her limbs, he was fuckin' scared-
Indeed.
You did have power over him.
"My pills." You barely raised your voice and he already was on his feet, pulling on his pants and trousers, looking for your plan B.
You watched him, nervously seeking after them, making as much noise in the bathroom as he would never make on a battlefield, and you could almost see his shaking hands turning the whole room upside down.
"We're gonna have a nice long talk about all of it," you heard yourself surprisingly serious, when he came to you with a glass of water and your medicine, helping you, holding your head for you to drink, "we gonna..." you swallowed the pill from his hands, drank all the water from the glass without taking your eyes off him, and exhaled loudly as he kissed your cheek after.
"We're gonna?.." he echoed you and you saw him squatting down next to the couch, against your head, so you could lie down and look him straight in the eyes without getting tired.
"We're gonna clear up your... This. Simon."
"Mhm?"
"Eyes on me."
"They already are, ma'am."
You could've laughed, because he never called you that unless you were extremely serious about small things in your life, no one ever saw him mocking you, or smiling like this, widely and openly, but there were topics you wanted to discuss before admitting that both of you were total perverts, and nothing would even help you clean your conscience from it.
To be fair, you didn't actually want.
You knew he was more playful, more... Different when you were alone, there were demons inside his pretty blonde-haired head, that was true, you knew the man you married, and he never was such a jealous person without any reason, and... You didn't know how, but you were sure this talk about 'sharing with someone else' wasn't just... Dirty talk. There was something else deep inside.
"You're thinking too loud, love," you heard him hawed it out and then felt his strong hands on your aching legs. "Again."
"I'm just... You know what?"
"Mm?"
"We... We should..."
"We should?.."
"We should... Holy hell, Simon... You..."
"I was serious about what I said, love."
Boom.
You tilted your head, met his eyes, moving from your legs to your face.
His deep and at first sight as if almost naive eyes.
"About?..." You whispered, feeling something strange growing inside you with every second he was looking deep into your soul.
Nasty, nasty soul.
"About having a big family." you felt his gentle kiss on your ankle, his head relaxed near your feet, he mumbled, "We already have one pretty girl... I want more. I want... I want to come home... And see a hoard of children running to me... Meeting me... And you... And then I'll sit with them, and you will work, and, imagine... Coming home, where there'll be a bunch of kids, siblings, maybe playing with each other, or arguing, or... Else. Our little world."
"Our little world..."
Unbelievable.
Dreamy, absorbed in his fantasies, soft, affectionate Simon. Telling you about that.
"Even if we could... What if something goes wrong?.." you couldn't resist your fears, not for yourself, but for hypothetical children. "What if... We won't be able to give them what they deserve?.."
And suddenly he smirked:
"I'm not telling you making a second one right now, am I?" your eyes met, your uncertain, and his, surprisingly romantic. "I'm just... Maybe we shouldn't stop at just one. She needs a friend. We were able to do so many things. I will buy a big house somewhere in the middle of nowhere..."
"With a garden and greenhouse?"
"Yep. I will arrange the area. Maybe we can have cows?"
"And chicken."
"And chicken. And..."
And you completed his sentence without looking at him, just knowing what he would say:
"...and have a daydream house with white picket fence and a golden retriever..."
"I prefer Alsatian."
There was something wrong with this man. Who was without a drop of doubt thinking that you two, and now with the third little human, can have that unrealistic happy lovey-dovey life.
Scarred soldiers, hardly married, only a year ago trembling from fear because of the thought that you would have a child in your house, such an irresponsible thing to do- and- and- now-
Now he was saying you can have more, can take responsibility for more people, more little ones- where were the guarantees that he would not die in the field? where were the guarantees that you would not be killed? where there were guarantees that you could become good parents, raise good children, fulfill your duty to them, and remain happy, not break down, challenge life, who stubbornly told you over and over again that you weren't made for this, you simply cannot have this, this isn't for you, and-
There really was something wrong with him.
And maybe, only maybe, there was something wrong with you, too.
Because you believed him.
You believed him with all your being, you trusted him, you knew he would never betray your trust, he would do more than everything to keep his promises, you knew the word "family" wasn't just a sound for him, and you became his family, he did not just wanted kids and that shitty house, fuck it, that wasn't about the house.
All of that was only about you.
Making family with you.
Having kids with you.
Introducing you as his wife, being a father to your kids, calling you the mother of his kids, knew exactly that is your and his blood running in their veins, that's your common children playing in the garden.
And in his face, which for some reason everyone finds impenetrable and dispassionate, you read so much that your heart breaks, your breath hitches, your pulse skips a beat:
Simon Riley doesn't want this house without you. He doesn't want kids without you. He doesn't want any white picket fence, no garden, no greenhouse, nothing without you. It's all is just meaningless for him, if it's without you.
You are that one thing that makes him believe he's unstoppable. You're that one person for whom he wants to try, despite fully understanding how hard, almost impossible it will be. Definitely will.
The man will move mountains just for you.
He would fight Death, and he would kill it just for you.
That's truly crazy.
But once again, if he's crazy, then you are too.
"Okay..." your quiet voice sounded in the silent room, only the cozy melody accompanying your words. "Alsatian it is."
It took a second, stretching for years, for him to slowly, with the grace of a well-fed tamed predator, get up from the floor and lean towards you, giving you the most tender kiss you have ever felt.
Delicate as silk, sweet as chocolate, a touch of love.
All his feelings for you couldn't fit in one kiss. But he needed to try.
And as soon as you relaxed, trusting yourself to his strong, safe arms, loud baby cries came from the baby monitor.
Damn.
Simon pulled away from you with a quiet "Don't move, I'll go get the Princess" and you couldn't help but giggle when you heard him open the door to your bedroom and start talking like an idiot, cuz she just loved when he was goofy around her.
In one second, promises to make you perfect for his fat cock again, and in the second after that, rocks your common child while making hilarious noises to pacify her.
"Simon!" And when he, rocking your tiny Princess, looked out from behind your bedroom door, you said helplessly, unable to remove the silly smile from your face, "I love you, baby."
His gaze softened.
"I love you, too, mama."
Oh, this man...
Oh this man!
3K notes · View notes
woso-dreamzzz · 5 months
Text
Champions League
Hardersson x Child!Reader
Alexia Putellas x Hardersson!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: The second time you meet Alexia
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The only fun thing about the Champions League this year is that, with Not-Wolfsburg in the final, you get to go back to Sweden.
You love going back to Sweden because it means Morsa doesn't force you to speak English all the time. It also means that you get to have your favourite foods practically on demand at the hotel and it doesn't take ages to get like when Morsa makes them at home.
"Why aren't you playing?" You ask Zećira as you all file out to sit on the bench.
She shrugs. "I think Emma has a plan."
"Momma says Barcelona is very good," You say," But they're in pink."
Zećira chuckles. "Does wearing pink mean that they can't play well?"
You shrug. "I dunno." You think for a moment. "Are the Barcelona girls cool?"
Zećira laughs again as she taps you on the nose. "Don't go turncoat on us," She says," You're a Chelsea supporter, aren't you?"
As you're talking, a deflection from Melanie tumbles into the goal and even you recognise the wince that all of the Not-Wolfsburg girls give. You've got a bad feeling that this won't go the way Momma and Morsa want it to go.
Your interest in the match dims after that until a penalty is given away. Like always when there's a penalty, you perk up and move to stand on Zećira's lap so you can see properly.
Jonna makes sure you don't wobble off and you watch with eagle eyes as Ann-Katrin goes the wrong way and the Barcelona eleven slots it home.
It's fairly impressive to watch and you're filled with that same bouncy energy you always get when you're allowed to watch penalties. It annoys Morsa and Momma, you think, the way that you're most animated watching people take penalties.
At Not-Wolfsburg, that's always when you come to take part in training. Not to shoot your own penalties, of course, but to help save the ones shot at Zećira.
Momma and Sam get some pretty good chances to shoot but it's either not on target or deflected by Barcelona's keeper.
Barcelona get another two goals in the first half and, in your heart, you know that Not-Wolfsburg has already lost so you don't even bother listening to the way the girls on the bench are trying to encourage each other to not give up hope.
But, they all seem to shut up and let everything sink in when Morsa comes beelining towards you when the halftime whistle rings. You're sitting right by the tunnel that all the players are going down.
You get up, ready to take Morsa's hand but she just falls to her knees in front of you and pulls you into the tightest hug of your life. You hug her back, feeling a little bad that the game is going this bad.
A few of the Barcelona girls do a double take as they walk past to their changing room. You're not sure why. Maybe it's because you're so little and Morsa's hugging you so tight.
Momma comes and kneels in front of you too, stroking her hand over her face and pressing her lips to your hair. She murmurs something in Danish that you can't quite hear but it makes Morsa sigh softly before releasing you.
"Sorry," You say to them both," That Not-Wolfsburg is losing."
"It's not your fault," Momma says," Come on. Let's get you nice and fed."
Coach Emma makes you leave the changing room after you've eaten. You know that means she's going to yell. She always makes you leave when she's going to yell, ever since the first time when your English was not so good and it scared you so much that you cried.
So, with your special drink and a packet of Ahlgrens Bilar, you sit outside and press your ear to the wall to try and hear what Coach Emma is saying.
The walls are thick though so you can't hear anything.
You kind of wish that you had gotten your girl-swan out of your bag because you're a little bored without it and you just have to kind of wiggle your legs on the floor to amuse yourself.
Coach Emma's still yelling and you huff and look down the corridor to the big room before the tunnel where a blur of pink is moving out to the pitch.
They're talking in Spanish like when you went to Barcelona last year with Momma and Morsa. You still don't know Spanish so you don't pay them much attention until the sounds of cleats get closer to you and you look up.
A few of the Barcelona girls have approached you, shifting on their feet like they're not too sure what to say.
You don't offer up any explanations to them. You just move to sit cross-legged in front of them and munch on your marshmallow cars. You look down at your packet briefly and then back at the girls, smiling and offering the packet up to them.
It gets smiles from them and a few even take some of your cars. The girl from the beach last year, the one with the dog who is also somehow Barcelona's eleven, crouches in front of you. This time, she doesn't try to speak Spanish at you.
"Your mamas are in there?" She asks, indicating towards the closed door of the Not-Wolfsburg changing room.
You nod.
She nods too. "And you will sit here and not wander, yes? So your mamas know where you are?"
You nod again.
She thinks for a moment. "Can I wait with you? To make sure that your mamas get you properly?"
You shrug. Coach Emma is taking longer than usual to yell at them. "Okay." You move to sit back against the wall again and take a long drink of your special drink. You don't know what it is (Momma never tells you) but it's nice and it's like being cradled up in her arms in Denmark in Momma's momma's house.
The other girls in pink head out to the pitch after beach girl tells them something in Spanish.
"You're going to win," You say simply.
It's clear that she doesn't expect you to say that because she looks at you all weird.
"Momma and Morsa are gonna be sad," You continue, squishing one of your sweets between your fingers," But that's okay 'cause Zećira says that she'll let me play in goal with her no matter what."
"You like playing in goal?"
"Uh-huh. Zećira's teachin' me. She's the best."
"Really?"
"I'm gonna be better though and I'm gonna get Momma and Morsa the Champions League medals they want."
"Princesse."
You look up to see Morsa in the doorway, her hand out waiting for you. Momma's behind her, with a much more friendly face as you approach.
"Putellas," Morsa says," What are you doing here?"
"Just keeping her company," Barcelona's eleven says," I'll...I'll go now." She heads off down the corridor and turns back to wave at you once before disappearing back through the tunnel.
"Momma?" You ask," Why's Morsa angry?"
"Morsa's just having some big feelings," Momma assures you as she walks you out and sets you up in your seat with more snacks, your baby blanket and your girl-swan," And no matter what happens, she's going to need our help with those big feelings later, okay?"
"Cuddles at bedtime?" You ask.
"Cuddles at bedtime," Momma confirms, pressing a kiss to your head before heading off to the rest of the team.
You look nervously at Zećira, leaning against her as she wraps part of her coat around you. "We're going to lose," You whisper," Morsa's going to be so sad."
It goes exactly as you expect and you feel a little wobble in your chest when the whistle goes and you see Morsa look up at the sky like she's trying not to cry.
Zećira helps you down from your seat and you sprint across the field to crash into Morsa.
She's definitely crying now and she drops to her knees and presses her chin onto the top of your head. She keeps repeating the same words to you over and over again. "I'm sorry, princesse. I'm so sorry, princesse."
You can feel her tears drip into your hair and you make sure to squeeze all of your love into the hug. "It's okay, Morsa," You say," I'll get you a gold when I'm older. I'll get Momma a gold too." You look at Momma over Morsa's shoulder. "I promise."
Momma joins the hug too as Morsa cries into your hair. "It's okay, Magda," She says," It's okay."
You stay glued to Morsa's side as Coach Emma brings everyone in for the huddle talk. Morsa's still crying slightly and you offer her your baby blanket for comfort, which she swings around her shoulders and holds like it's a lifeline.
"Momma," You whisper, tugging at her arms as you look nervously at Morsa," Momma, can we go now? Morsa needs cuddles."
"We've got to get our medals first," Momma says," Just a bit longer."
"No! Morsa needs cuddles now!"
"I know," Momma says," Just a little bit longer and we can all go back to the hotel and have lots of cuddles."
You relent briefly though it's not long before you've attached yourself to Morsa and she even carries you up onto the stage to get her medal, which immediately gets put around your neck.
"Is Morsa going to be okay?" You ask Zećira as she pulls you away to go play in goal as the Barcelona girls start getting their medals.
"Your Morsa's going to be just fine," Zećira promises you," She just needs some comfort from your Momma right now so we're going to set up here for a bit."
You look back at Morsa and Momma and then nod at Zećira. "Okay."
Even though she didn't play today, she still brought her gloves and helps you put them on.
"Okay," She says," Now, what's the most important thing when being a keeper?"
"Doesn't matter if it goes in, as long as I try," You reply.
"Good."
She takes little shots at the goal for you to save and then chips one over your head when she notices you're distracted looking at Morsa again.
Both of you completely miss the approaching figure until she stops in front of you.
"Hello again," Putellas says.
"Hi."
Zećira takes a step forward, almost protectively but Putellas doesn't seem to care, kneeling down so she can be your height and peering past Zećira's leg to properly look at you.
She's in a different shirt on now but she's still got the pink one in her hands too. Her medal is around her neck like Morsa's is around yours. She's smiling at you too, holding out the hand with the shirt to you.
You step past Zećira and cautiously reach for it. You hold it in your hand before tugging it over your head. You smile back at her.
"Can I play?"
You look at Zećira, who shrugs.
"Your choice."
You look back at Putellas. "Okay."
She kicks the ball gently at you a few times and smiles every time you make a save. Zećira stays nearby, sometimes approaching to give you little tips or to tie your hair back and adjust your gloves.
Morsa and Momma finally come over a long while later. Morsa's finally stopped crying but you don't even try to save Putellas' shot as you approach Morsa to make sure she's okay.
"Better now that I've got you," She says when you ask, heaving you up onto her hip as Momma presses ticklish kisses to your face.
Putellas stands there awkwardly, now completely outnumbered by Chelsea girls.
But Morsa smiles at her, tugging down at your new jersey. "We don't have a wall here, princesse. Why don't you go and stand next to Alexia and we can take your picture?"
You wiggle down and crowd into Alexia's space. She crouches down to your height as Momma takes out her phone. Her hand goes to rest on your shoulder as you beam up at the camera.
"That's being framed," Morsa says.
(It does get framed and put on your bedside table where it's joined over the years with pictures of you with other footballers)
Alexia awkwardly clears her throat. "Can-Can I have a copy?" She asks, almost shyly," I think it would be nice to have one to remember her by when she's the best keeper in the world."
Momma laughs in delight and nods," Put in your number. I'll send it to you."
"Best keeper in the world," Zećira says wistfully as she helps you pull off her gloves," You're going to have to keep training hard."
"She will," Morsa says," She's going to get enough medals to give out to a whole team."
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youronlydarlin · 4 months
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warning: kinda sad ANGST, Simon losses you :( , ooc kinda?? But he's soft for you only, trust me bro
This was kinda inspired by that one part in the comics where our poor, Si holds his mums skull, n he jus'... Kinda nuzzles into it. I dunno it just bought on some sad feeling, mkay...
Simon who slightly raises the cup of tea he's drinking each time he has one, just to let you know he's relaxing. Or trying his best too, at least. Doesn't know what he'll do if he worried you from beyond the grave. Sometimes he looks at all the belongings you left behind. Saying how they probably miss you, but not nearly as much as he does.
Unlike some, Simon uses your things. He doesn't want the house to go through the pain of loosing you too. So he drinks from your mug, and sits on your chair. Reads your favorite books, but never takes out the book marks in case you want to continue reading them. He also completes your bucket list for you, and even though he's the one doing them he always whispers 'good job, to the wind, hoping they'll carry the messenge to you.
Simon who speaks to your framed pictures. He remembers each, and every memory behind them. "Bet your happy... Now it'll always be my turn to grab the 'bloody groceries.." he jests. He hopes that one made you laugh. Knowing you, you would've. It's a mystery how you always laughed at his lame jokes. Though your laugh's always been better than the awful punchlines.
Simon who passes by that cafe you bugged him to go with you to, and he feels his throat go dry. He never got to take you there because of a sudden call from Price, telling him about an urgent, albeit sudden, mission. He definitely regrets not taking you out on dates more often. There's so many shops opening that he knows you would've loved to see.
Simon who's heart breaks at how quickly the world turns without you. Everything's moving so quickly, leaving him behind like it's already moved on, and he hates it. He hates how there's less clothes to fold now. Food is served, but only for one. The taste of it is flavorless, and dry. It's times like these, that he wishes he should have took the time and learn your recipes.
But what's worse, is that your side of the bed is cold. And it'll remain that way forever. At times he'll reach for you absentmindedly. Nightmares about war traded for dreams about you, but during those dreamless nights where sleep doesn't visit he'll stroke your pillow the same way he'd do to keep your hair out of your face, and pull the covers over the empty space you once occupied. He wonders if it's cold where you are right now. But just know that he's always willing to warm you up if ever you come back.
Simon who...
Stands at the doorway. Bag slinged over his shoulder, full of everything he needs and more for deployment. He knows he can't leave without properly saying goodbye, so he fishes out his wallet, and digs out a picture of you. He holds it up to his face, and it's funny. How you're not even staring at the camera when the photo was taken. No, you were staring at him. This one's always been his favorite. So he clears his throat, and wishes you don't hear the slight shake in his tone.
"..By now you would've told me to be careful.. And I will, by the way. But, m' sorry for all the times I didn't...'
....
" I have to go now. Don't need them gettin' on my ass for 'being late.. so.."
....
"..You just rest now, ok, love? There's nothing else for you to worry about' anymore. I love you, always. Wish me, and the boys luck, yeah?.."
He gives a light kiss to your photo, and it's as if you're with him when he steps outside the door..
a/n: This was a challenge to write, and I don't know what to feel about the results. I'm just polishing my english, I guess. M'not good at writing angst, you can probably tell, also my grammar feels off on this one, again. English isn't my first language, sorry. So please correct me on any mistakes I've made! But putting all that aside, I hope you like this more than I do! And, always remember that you are loved, and cared for! Have an amazing day, my darlings!
Yours, truly,
–dolly
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thinkwosolife23 · 7 months
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Reputation, Alexia Putellas
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Being a Williamson is great. For the most part. You and Leah had gained quite the reputation both on and off the pitch.
On the pitch, Leah had become one of the best centerbacks in the world. Captaining the Lionesses to winning the Euros and then taken them right through to the World Cup Final. And you had become on of the most well-decorated fowards in the world, top scorer for Arsenal and England. And when you were on the pitch together, well that was a duo that was feared by your opposistion. Leah was able to find you wherever you were on the pitch and 9 times out of 10, you would put the ball in the back of the net. The connection you two held on the pitch was unmatched, it became unstoppable.
But off the pitch, the Williamson name wasn't as appreciated. After the two of you had come out of long-term relationships, Leah with Jordan and you with Katie (McCabe). You had started to become known as, 'players.' The routine of going out, meeting someone, sleeping with them and leaving in the morning became all too familiar for the pair of you. The word commitment no longer exsisted in your world outside of football.
Your teamaties had become well aware of the antics you and your sister shared. This happened because you may have, accidently slept with one of your teamates sisters.
But this season, the Williamson sisters were no longer playing for the same club team.
Arsenal Star, Y/N Williamson leaves childhood club for Champions League Winners.
Barcalona break the current Womens record fee to sign Y/N Williamson from Arsenal.
So, here you were. In Barcalona. Today would be your first day in training, also the day where you would be introduced to your new teamates. Obviously, you had played against some of them in the World Cup Final but we won't talk about that.
Kiera had offered to take you to training, with it being your first day. And for the fact that currently, you don't have a car.
But with the journey to training, you also recieved a lecture.
"You can't mess around here, Y/N. You can't be like how you were in England." Kiera told you firmly just as you had stepped into the training centre.
"Best behaviour. I know, Ke" You replied, almost sarcasticly.
"I'm serious!"
You didn't reply, you just smiled at gave her the thumbs up.
Kiera took you straight out onto the field where all the girls were. They were all quick to come over introducing themselves to you.
But then something else took your attention, rather someone did.
She was beautiful, everything about her was just…. uuhh. She was talking to Lucy about something.
You looked back at Keira who was already giving you a firm look as if she knew what you was thinking, then giving you a strong shake of her head, telling you that your thoughts needed to stop.
Meanwhile, Alexia was just as curious. And Lucy seemed to notice it.
"You can't go there, Ale." Lucy told her, Alexia's eyes staying fixed on you.
"What do you mean?" She questioned, almost confused at Lucy's sudden outburst.
"She's got a bit of reputation for messing people around."
"She's english. You play with her, isn't she your friend." Alexia said, as if she was coming to your defense.
"She is a friend and she's an amazing footballer but that doesn't mean she isn't bad news. You need to be careful." Lucy affirmed before walking off, making her way towards Kiera.
This gave you the perfect chance to go an introduce yourself.
You made your way through the team towards her.
"Hola." You said, holding your hand out for her to shake. (Hey.)
"¿Tú hablas español?" She questioned, gently reaching out to shake your hand. (You speak spanish?)
"¿Qué puedo decir? Me propuse impresionar." (What can I say? I set out to impress.)
"Tienes bastante reputación, ¿no?" (You've got quite the reputation, haven't you.)
"Podría decir lo mismo de ti." You told her, your confidence soon starting to show. (I could say the same thing about you.)
"No creas que nuestras reputaciones son similares." Her confidence almost matching yours, almost… (Don't think that our reputations are similar.)
"Bueno, lo siento, no todas podemos ser tan buenas como Miss Balón de Oro. Pero me ofende un poco que mis habilidades futbolísticas no sean lo que más me conoce." (Well I am sorry, we can't all be as good as Miss Ballon D'or. But I am slightly offended that my footballing abillity isn't what i'm best known for.)
"Me han advertido sobre ti, que me mantenga alejado, aparentemente son tus malas noticias." She told you, her hand still held within yours. (I've been warned about you, to stay away, your bad news, apparently.)
"Entonces claramente debes estar inflado por mí, porque no estás escuchando la advertencia, ¿verdad?" You questioned her, whilst lifting your hands up showing her that she hadn't let go. (You must clearly be infactuated by me then, cause your not listening to the warning, are you?)
"Me gusta pensar que puedo opinar sobre las nuevas jugadoras." (I like to think I can make my own opinion of new players.)
"Mujer independiente. Y no pensé que podrías volverte más hermosa." (Independent woman. And I didn't think that you could get anymore beautiul.)
"Y eres demasiado coqueta." (And your too much of a flirt.)
Over the next few weeks, you and Alexia had become really close. Despite what people were telling both of you.
It was different with her though: something drew you towards her, you didn't just want to sleep with her. She made you feel something. Obviously, she was beautiful - no-one could deny that but she was so many other things. She was funny, she was intelligent, she amazed you everytime she stepped onto the pitch. She was perfect.
Nothing had actually happened between the pair of you, nothing more than the casual flirting on a daily basis. You two had formed an incredible connection on the pitch, similar to yours and Leahs. Alexia always managed to find you on the pitch and you knew that she was either next to you or behind you, words didn't need to be spoken for you two to understand each other.
Tonight, the whole of the Barcalona Femeni team were going out to celebrate a 4-0 win in the El Clasico. You managing to score 2 of them goals, also managing to assist Alexia on another one.
Anyways, you had just got to the bar with Mapi and Ingrid. Since your move to Barcalona, you had formed a really good friendship with the couple. Besides your fellow Lionesses, the two had definatly become two of your closest friends.
Some of your teamates had already arrived at the bar, taking seat in one of the booths in the far corner. Despite the night only just starting, the spanish bar was packed with people and sound.
The three of you made your way over to the group, squeezing through the crowds of people. As soon as you got to the group, everyone was up greeting the three of you before going back to there previous conversations.
After about half an hour, you joined Lucy in getting everyone another round of drinks.
"I'm suprised you haven't already found someone to take home." Lucy casually questioned you.
"Are you being serious?" Your voice raising slightly, clearly irritated.
"What? You can't blame me for thinking that. You and Leah practically bedded most of the girls in London."
"You know what Lucy, it's none of your buissness what I get up to in my own life. I'm done with this." You gestured your hands between you and Lucy, towards the conversations before walking off.
You began making your way outside, wanting to give yourself time to calm down. You went and sat on the kerb just in front of the bar but you weren't outside alone for long.
A few minutes passed before you felt someone's prescence beside you, resting their head on your shoulder.
You didn't even have to look to see who it was. So many things told you that it was her: the way she smelt or the fact that your body instantly relaxed as soon as she was near you.
"Y/N?" Alexia's voice was soft, sensing that something had clearly agitated you.
"Lex, estoy tan harto de todo esto que es como si todos estuvieran esperando que lo arruine todo." You told her, the fustration evident in your voice, complety opposing her soft tone. (Lex, i'm so fed up of it all, it's like everyone is waiting for me to mess everything up.)
"Se preocupan por ti. Sólo quieren lo mejor para ti." (They care about you. They just want what'a best for you.)
"Pero si se preocuparan por mí, verían que he cambiado, que estoy tratando de ser mejor." (But if they cared about me, they would see that i've changed, i'm trying to be better.)
There were a couple of minutes of silence between the pair of you, but knowing that Alexia was next to you brought you more re-assurance that any words could ever do.
"¿Puedo hacerte una pregunta?" She was first to break the silence. Her head head coming off your shoulder, for her boy to turn and face you. (Can I ask you a question?)
You eyes never left the view in front of you but you did nodd so that she knew you were listening. You could feel the intensity of her stare without even lookin in her direction, it felt as if she was almost studying your side profile. Her eyes focused solely on you.
"¿Qué te hizo acostarte con todas esas chicas? ¿Por qué estás tan en contra del compromiso?" (What made you sleep with all them girls, why are you so against commitment?)
"Técnicamente son dos preguntas." (That's technically two questions.)
She let out a slight laugh at your almost sarcastic response before looking back at your face to see that there were tears falling from your eyes. Instinctively, her hand reached for yours; interlocking your fingers before giving your hand a light squeeze. Her way of letting you know that she was there for you.
"Cuando estaba con Katie: pensé que me casaría con ella, tendría hijos con ella, pensé que estaríamos para siempre. Ella era mi todo. Pero obviamente no. Cuando ella rompió conmigo: estaba entumecido, no podía sentir. Después de un par de semanas, el equipo me arrastró con ellos a salir por la noche. Terminé emborrachándome mucho y yendo a casa de una chica. Fue la primera vez que realmente sentí algo. El sexo me hizo sentir, se volvió casi adictivo pero en el mal sentido. Salía, me emborrachaba, traía a alguien a casa, dormía con ellos y luego, a la mañana siguiente, se convertían en extraños y yo me iba." (When I was with Katie: I thought I was going to marry her, have kids with her, I thought we were forever. She was my everything. But obviously not. When she broke up with me: I was numb, I couldn't feel. After a couple of weeks, the team dragged me out with them on a night out, I ended up getting really drunk and going to a girl's house, It was the first time that I actually felt something. Sex made me feel, it became almost addictive but in a bad way. I'd go out, get drunk, take someone home, sleep with them and then the next morning they became a stanger and I left.)
"¿Y qué te hizo querer cambiar? ¿Por qué quieres mejorar?" (And what made you want to change, why do you want to get better?)
For the first time, you head turned to look at her. Her hands came up to wipe there tears from under your eyes, before giving you a smile.
"Lo hiciste." (You did.)
Her smile grew slightly and that mad you break out into a small smile. Before you knew it, your were both leaninig in. Her hands still resting on your cheeks as yours reached to each side of her neck. And then, her lips hit yours, giving you a spark you had never felt before, not even with Katie. The both of you pulled away, resting your forehead on hers.
"Es diferente contigo, Lex. Me haces sentir, me haces sentir tantas cosas diferentes. En realidad me asusta, pero quiero intentarlo contigo." (It's different with you, Lex. You make me feel, you make me feel so many different things. It actually scares me, but I want to try with you.)
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vivwritesfics · 5 months
Text
No Need To Ask
Chapter Twenty-Eight - The End Of It All
The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.
But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.
1.4K words
This is the final chapter of NNTA! I can't believe we're at the end. After 50000 words and heartbreak, we're finally at the end. Of course, I'm always open to blurb ideas for this series!
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Being pregnant was hard, Y/N Sainz decided as she waddled around the house with Bones at her said. Bones was the guard dog, a beautiful Doberman, that her husband had bought for her. They had two other dogs, but Bones was hers, completely loyal to her.
She sat on the sofa, below the air conditioning, and turned on the television. Bones jumped up onto the sofa beside her, laying his head on her too large baby bump as the television started up.
"Querida," said Carlos as he walked past her, papers in his hands. He stopped and bent down to give her a kiss. "How is our little man doing?"
He didn't say anything about Bones, who usually wasn't allowed on the sofa when Carlos was there. Just scratched the space between his ears.
Y/N lifted Bones's head and grabbed a hold of Carlos's hand. She placed his hand onto her bump and let him feel. "Any day now," she said. "I can't wait to have him out of me."
Grinning, Carlos leaned down and kissed her cheek. "I can't wait to get you pregnant yet again," he said with a cheeky grin.
He went to stand up, but Y/N had already wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him in place. "Sweetie," she said slowly, still wearing her saccharine smile. "Honey, darling."
But then the smile dropped from her face. "You're not putting another baby in me, Carlos Sainz Vázquez de Castro," she said and let go of him. "Not for another year, at least."
Carlos laughed and leaned down to give her one last kiss. He scratched the top of Bones's head and made his way back up to his office.
Ever since everything went down, Carlos was a different man. He'd stayed the same as the man Y/N had for company in the cabin, if not even sweeter. He wasn't cruel, he wasn't domineering and he wasn't abusive.
He was perfect.
Y/N watched the television in Spanish, with English subtitles on the bottom. It was really helping with her grasp of the language. Carlos helped too, when he could, whispering sweet words in her ear late at night. But, the biggest help of all, was Señora Sainz.
She refused to speak to Y/N in any sort of english, so she had to learn to adapt. During family dinners (where Carlos sat in the place of his father), the entire family spoke in Spanish, chatting about their day and whatever else came to mind.
After she had been watching Spanish soap operas for an embarrassing amount of time, Carlos walked out of his office, down the stairs and over to his wife, sitting in the seat opposite her.
"Verstappen wants Max to come and stay with us for a few days," he said as he laced his hands together.
This was great new. Y/N loved Max and she hadn't seen him since her short stay in the Netherlands. But there was something off about the whole thing. "Is Verstappen sending him as punishment for something?"
The look Carlos gave her confirmed it. Max was being punished for something and, knowing Jos, it was probably for being too soft. "We should just keep him here," she mumbled under her breath and readjusted her seating position (it was incredibly hard to get comfy being this pregnant). "He's twenty six and his dad treats him like a naughty little boy." She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. "I hate Jos."
Max arrived at the Sainz house the next day. He went to say hello to Y/N, to wrap his arms around the woman he had gotten close to all those months ago, but Bones wouldn't let him. Held back by Carlos he barked at Max, snapping at his heels.
That was the first thing Carlos concentrated on, allowing the guard dogs to get used to him. It wasn't long before they realised he wasn't a dangerous intruder.
Max was the perfect companion for Y/N. He kept her company, had her relaxing with him in the pool (he was the first person to try going down the slide that Carlos had installed).
He was only in the Sainz house for a week before she went into labour.
The contractions started and Y/N didn't say anything, suffering through it with clenched teeth. Max didn't notice at first. He ate popcorn as they watched a movie, completely unaware.
And then they got stronger, closer together, and Y/N struggled to hide it. And then her water broke.
"Fuck!" Max cried when he finally notice. "Shit, shit, shit!" He ran out of the room, up the stairs and into Carlos's office. "The baby! Coming! Help!" He cried.
Max had never seen somebody move as fast as Carlos did in that moment. He was out of his office in the blink of an eye and running down the stairs heading towards his wife. "Max! Get the go bag from my closet!" He shouted.
As Carlos headed to Y/N, Max ran down the hall and into Y/N and Carlos's bedroom. He went straight into the walk-in closet and went through it, searching for the go bag. Carlos hadn't thought about what was in the closet when he sent Max to get the go bag. He didn't think about Max pushing the handcuffs, whips and more to the side as he searched for the go bag.
But Carlos didn't have time to think about that. He crouched in front of his wife and pushed her hair out of her face. "Mi amor," he said, taking her hands. "Max said the baby is coming. Are you ready to go to the hospital?" His voice was calm as he spoke.
Y/N nodded her head. "Get this thing out of me," she said through a laugh and allowed her husband to help her up.
Slowly and carefully he walked her through the house, leading her to the front door. Max joined them, go bag over his shoulder. He held the front door open as Carlos walked her towards the car.
Being the wife of Carlos Sainz, head of the Sainz family, meant that she got the best medical care available. Her cries filled the hospital as she pushed, her husband holding her hand and pressing a damp cloth to her forehead. "You're doing it, baby," he said softly.
Y/N couldn't hear him as he spoke, too focused on the pain. Nothing could have prepared her for this feeling. But it would all be worth it, she had to keep telling herself.
After a matter of hours (although it felt a lot longer), Oscar Pau Sainz was crying in his fathers arms. He had been wrapped in a blanket, a little blue hat on his head. Y/N had her eyes closed as she took a moment to rest, utterly exhausted after the whole ordeal.
Left out in the waiting room, it had been Max's job to inform the other heads of families. Everybody (but his own father, who didn't really care) messaged to congratulate the couple and made arrangements to get to Spain as soon as possible
The next day, after staying overnight in the hospital, Carlos and Y/N drove him. Max had taken the car and driven home the day before, but had come back to pick the couple up. He drove with Carlos in the passenger seat and Y/N in the back with baby Oscar, her baby Oscar.
"A package for you guys came," said Max as they drove towards the house. "I've left it in the kitchen."
When they got to the house, Y/N and Carlos walked straight up stairs and into baby Oscar's room. "This is your bedroom," she whispered as Carlos carried the carrier inside.
As Y/N laid baby Oscar in the crib, Carlos ran downstairs for the package. He didn't know what he expected, but it certainly wasn't this. He placed the package back in the box and brought it up to his wife, who was sitting in the rocking chair in baby Oscar's room.
"Here," he said, passing it to her. He grabbed her hand and pulled her up, sitting in her place and pulling her into his lap.
Y/N took the item out of the box. It was a little stuffed rabbit that looked a little worn and old, but had certainly been cleaned. "Oh, this is lovely," he said, laying the rabbit in her lap as she grabbed a hold of the note inside of the box.
He'd want him to have this - N. Piastri (Oscar's mom)
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fr4nk-1e · 2 months
Text
"Just Toji."
who would have said that Toji would find comfort in you, his neglected servant?
warnings: abuse, malnutrition, slavery? (reader is bought by zenin clan), Toji being Toji and treating you harsh but having his own way to show he cares, english is not my mother language so feel free to correct me!
words ≈ 1.6k
(i know toji got his scar when he was a kid but this oneshot is not settled in any time so the timeline is up to your imagination)
the trope of being toji's servat got inspired from a bot on c.ai but because the app has problems rn i'm not able to find it and can't credit who created the bot because i don't remember the username either, but i'll put the credits here when i'll finally find the bot🥹 (edit: i found it!!!)
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"Master Toji, your breakfast is ready." knocking at his door, you call out for him. Not hearing any response, you knock again. "Master Toji?"
"Go away." he grumbles, not even bothering to get out of bed. You sigh and open the door to his room, walking in with a teapot which you set on the nightstand. He doesn't even look at you, his face buried in the covers when he speaks again. "I said go away."
"I'm afraid I can't ignore your father's orders." you say, opening the curtains to let some light into his room, getting a grunt out of Toji as he feels the warmth of the sun on his skin.
"Shouldn't you be listening to me?" his tone is harsh and raspy. He shifts on the bed to lie on his back and puts his arm over his eyes." "You're my servant."
"That is true, I am assigned to serve you at the moment, however..." walking to his wardrobe, you take out a clean kimono for him and put on the chair next to his futon. "...your father... he is my boss, he is the one who bought me and... you know..."
"Yeah... I know." he mumbles, his tone softens, showing that he understands. His hand reaches for a mug and he takes a sip of the tea you brought, his eyebrows knitting together at the pulsating pain that went through the wound on the corner of his lips. "That damn old man."
As he sits up, you notice small drops of sweat going down his temples and neck which shine in the sunlight. You also notice his worn-out expression and that he generally isn't in a good shape. His muscules are twitching slightly - it gave you a feeling that he must still feel shaken up, also his pillow is wet. You realize he must had the same nightmare again about the day when his father threw him into a pit full of curses but you know it's a sensitive topic for him.
"Does it still hurt?" you ask, looking at the wound he has from that day.
"Nah... only a bit." he answers, trying to sound tough. "Nothing I can't handle."
You nod, deciding not to pry any further and take the empty mug and teapot.
"Like I said, your breakfast is ready. Do you want me to bring it here or..."
"Of course." he snaps, sounding a bit more harsh than he wanted to. "I'm not leaving this room today. They can kiss my ass, I don't care."
They means his father and other members of the clan that can't go a single day without insulting him for not having cursed energy, calling him useless or threatening him with curses just for fun. Sometimes they even release a living curse to attack him, just for fun. They rarely hide their cruelness and you understand why he's so disgusted in them that he can't even say their names.
You just nod at his response and walk to the door. "I understand. I'll be right back then."
As you leave, Toji lets out a long, heavy sigh. Relationship between you two was... unusual. And a bit tense but t at the same time, quite comforting for both of you. He, unwanted by his own clan, abused and treated like shit. You, also unwanted by your own clan, sold off to someone else, used, abused and also treated like shit. He doesn't like to admit it but he finds comfort in the similiarity of the misery of your lifes. Even if he doesn't like this feeling, he feels connected to you because you're the only one person who truly understands him... and also the only one person who doesn't hate him.
You come back a few minutes later with a bruise on your face. Toji tries to act like he doesn't care but he can't help but feel concerned.
"What the hell happened to your face?" the tone of his voice is harsh but there is a bit softness in it.
"I... I broke a glass." you didn't need to add anything else because you both understand what that means. Breaking something means punishment. Even if it was just an accident. Both of you could experience it on your own skins many, many times. Way too many.
He just nods at your words and takes the tray from you with his breakfast. But he doesn't eat, he just stares at it blankly. Then he looks at you. His eyes wander on your skinny hands and arms... sharp jawline... thin collarbones... Then his gaze meets yours. He looks worried but also... angry.
"When was the last time you ate?"
Your eyebrows rise and embarassed smile appear on your face at his sudden question. You gulp nervously before answering. "M-Master Toji, you don't need to worry about it..."
"When was the last time you ate?" he repeats his question, his tone harsher than before.
"Two days ago..."
Your answer is quiet, hoping he won't hear you. But he hears you loud and clear. He grabs your wrist and pulls you to sit next to him. Then he gives you half of his food.
"Eat."
"M-Master Toji, it's you-"
"Eat." he sounds angry. Or it's better to say... frustrated.
"But-"
"You're my servant. It's an order." he gives you a cold glare, but deep in his expression you can see concern. "Eat."
You sigh and give in. As you start eating, he starts eating too, looking at you all the time to make sure you're getting all important nutritions you need. His sight doesn't leave the space to argue, so even if you feel extremely embarassed, you eat all of the food he gave you. But there is no words in the world that could express how grateful you feel.
As you finish eating, he focuses on the bruise on your face again.
"Come closer."
With a sigh, you lean closer, letting him have better view of the bruise. Being this close, he could see dried tear stains that were still on your face. His thumb rubs gently over the bruise, trying not to cause you any more pain.
"Does it hurt?" he asks.
"Not rea-"
"Don't lie."
"...It does."
After that, Toji does something you thought he would never do. His hand find it's way to the back of your head and brings you closer to his chest, trapping you in a gentle embrance. As you freeze, a bit shocked by his move, he rubs your head gently with his fingers, letting out a heavy sigh.
"I hate being treated like shit but... seeing you hurt..." he pauses for a moment. "I hate that even more."
"Master Toji, please don't worry about me... I'm really oka-"
"No. You're not." his tone sounds frustrated again. He pulls you even tighter against himself. You can feel that he can't contain his own emotions. "Stop lying to me, god damn it... I know you're not okay. I know how servants are treated, especially the one who are bought... like you."
You sigh, letting yourself lean against him, relaxing a bit.
"I got used to this." you mumble.
"You shouldn't." his tone is in between harsh and soft. "This isn't right. You shouldn't get used to this." you pull away, just enough to look into his eyes.
"Just like you shouldn't let your clan treat you like this only because you can't use cursed energy."
Something snap inside of him as you said that. As if it was something he needed to hear. Not something he didn't know about, but something he needed to hear from someone else to really believe this... to understand that he can take action.
"You're right. You're damn right." he sighs, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes. He seems mad at himself for agreeing to be abused... even if he couldn't do anything about it. He seems even more frustrated for letting you be treated the same way. After a moment of silence he looks at you with something you never saw in him before. A desire. "Let's get out of here."
"Wh-What...?" you stutter, confused and a bit shocked by his words.
"Let's run away. Together. You and me." his eyes show pure determination. "We deserve better, Y/N."
His words leave you stunned and cause you to hold your breath for a second. You stare at him with your mouth oppened before speaking. "M-Master Toji, I-I..."
"No more Master." he interrupts you. "Just Toji."
"Alright, Toji..." you gulp nervously, fighting your thoughts. "Are you sure about this? What if they start looking for us?"
"I'm strong." as for confirmation to his words, he squeezes you tighter in his embrace. "I can protect you." his determinated gaze help you realize that he is serious about this. That it is really happening and it is real - even if it feels unreal. "Please, Y/N. I won't do this alone. I don't wanna leave you here."
"I don't know..." your hesistation is understandable. If they'd find out about Toji's escape he would maybe get thrown into a pit full of curses again but you... you have the right to fear the worst. "What if they..."
"They won't kill you." his hand rest on your head again in protective manner and strokes your hair gently. "I told you, I'll protect you. I won't let them get their hands on you. I promise."
The hesistation and fear are still there but Toji's determination helps your desire to be free overcome these feelings. You trust him and his rage. Besides, he's right. Both of you deserve better. And just like he won't do it without you, you are not be able to do it without him. It's both of you or endless suffering.
"Alright... You're right. Let's get out of here, togehter. You and me. Y/N and just Toji."
i didn't forget about my other works!! i'm going through hard time lately and i need some more time to work on them, i hope you're not getting too impatient🥹
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rayaverra · 4 months
Text
Love Amidst the Noise // Luke Castellan
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pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader
genre: fluff (i guess)
summary: you get a little overexcited while talking, and your friends find it annoying. When Luke finds you sad and quiet, he comforts you.
warning(s): none
wc: 654
notes: this actually happened to me in real life, so shout-out to my best friend for his kind words :')
english is not my first language, so there may be mistakes.
・❥・༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶・❥・
"And we visited this museum when my dad took me on a trip to Boston, and the art there was just amazing! So many different types of paintings... all these vibrant colours that matched... and the amount of detail..." You were sharing your winter experience with your friends, feeling passionate about the art. Now that summer break had started and you were back in camp, you were excited to share all your latest stories, but none of your friends seemed to really care.
"Yeah... yeah... we get it! Your father took you to see some old paintings," one of them said, rolling their eyes, and soon afterwards everyone else joined.
"Yeah, who cares about some old paintings that all look the same anyway?" Another one added, and your smile suddenly faded, feeling sad that they spoke like that about something you cared so much about.
"And you've been talking about it for almost an hour! Don't you let anyone else speak?" And with that, you closed your mouth, feeling unwanted; you didn't say anything for the rest of your friends conversation.
Later that day, you were sitting on your cabin's table earlier than everyone else, not being in much of a mood. You started to wonder if everyone thought the same as your friends. You knew that sometimes you talked too much, but you couldn't control it. Did everyone in camp think you were annoying?
A familiar figure approached you. At first, you didn't turn to see who it was, but soon you realized it was your dear friend from the Hermes cabin, Luke Castellan.
He noticed your unusual silence and your worried expression. "Hey, is everything okay?" He asked gently.
"Fine..." You said, avoiding his gaze. And that, with the fact that you replied without using many words, like you always liked to explain the details, made him curious as to who got you sad. Deep down, he was also slightly angry that someone would hurt his best friend like this.
"Come' on, I know you better than that." He smiled softly, reaching across the table and gently holding your hand. "You can tell me everything, you know."
You hesitate for a bit, feeling a lump form in your throat. "Do you ever find me annoying?" You eventually blurted out, surprising both Luke and yourself.
He furrowed his eyebrows, looking genuinely puzzled. "Annoying? Not at all! Why would you think that?"
You signed, looking into his filled-with-kindness blue eyes, giving him a weak smile. He was so gentle with you that it warmed your heart.
You sighed, finally deciding to share the weight on your shoulders. "My friends, they... They always complain about me talking too much and never let me finish."
Luke's expression shifted from confusion to understanding. "You're not annoying, not to me. I love how you light up when you talk, how your eyes sparkle. Your enthusiasm is one of the things I adore about you."
Your heart warmed upon hearing his comforting words. You realized that you had found someone who appreciated you for who you were.
"Don't let them get to you. You're amazing just the way you are, and anyone who can't see that doesn't deserve your energy." He said, moving a strand of your hair behind your ear. You smiled, remembering how fun it was when you explained to Luke the history of each painting, and him listening intensively.
"Thank you, Luke." You smiled, moving closer, sniffing a little, and resting your head on his shoulder after giving him a hug.
"Can you tell me about that painting with that couple on a swing again?" Luke asked, and you blushed, nodding your head and starting to tell him about the famous Cot's painting.
In that moment, the weight lifted, and you felt a newfound strength. As you continued your conversation, you found solace in Luke's understanding, grateful to have someone who valued every word you shared.
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