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#//But I'm trying my best and that's all that matters!
bookyeom · 2 days
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whatever you say, bro - chs
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pairing: vernon x reader word count: 1.2k warnings: kissing, Shrek slander request prompt: "You're cute." "What did you say?" + "are you flirting with me?" "I’ve been trying to do that for three years."
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A/N: Thanks so much for all the support on my 700 follower celebration. You guys rock! I'm doing my best to get through the requests, but there were way more than I anticipated so bear with me!
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Vernonie [8:59pm]: we still on for tomorrow night?
Your heart leaps, like it always does, when Vernon’s name pops up on your screen. 
Y/N [9:01pm]: yeah! see you then, bro
You sigh heavily, throwing your phone down onto the bed beside you and rolling over, pulling your pillow into your chest.
Bro.
It’s a defense mechanism, you know, but it’s getting a bit ridiculous now. You’ve taken to throwing out the word nervously when he gets too close – which seems to be more often than not lately. You’d been worried that your crush on Vernon was getting disgustingly apparent, and so you'd started with this whole "bro" nonsense. Now, you don’t know how to get out of it.
Every time he catches you looking at him and raises a dramatic brow; every time you’re making plans to hang out just the two of you; every time his hand accidentally brushes yours while he hands over a headphone for you to listen to a song – you find a way to call him 'bro'. So that he knows it’s all strictly platonic. Which it’s not, of course – not for you – but his friendship means more to you than anything in this world, and you’re not going to jeopardize that just because you think he’s hot. And kind. And funny. 
Sure thing, bro. See you tomorrow, bro. I love movie nights with you, bro. I love when you show me new music or video games and your face lights up, bro. I love your eyes and the way you laugh at your own jokes, bro. While we're at it, your smile is pretty nice too, bro. 
You close your eyes with a sigh. 
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"Thumb war."
"What?"
You’re sitting on the floor in Vernon’s apartment the next day, arguing over which movie to watch. It’s been at least a half hour of back and forth, so you'd decided to take matters into your own hands, and had proposed the most obvious solution.
"Thumb war," you repeat. "Winner gets to pick the movie." 
Vernon eyes you warily. "Fine. You're on." 
As soon as his fingers curl into yours, you can feel your stomach flutter. His touch sends goosebumps across your skin, and you regret the suggestion instantly, but you must carry on. For honour – and for the fact that if he makes you watch Shrek 2 again you might scream.
You square your shoulders and laugh at Vernon’s face, which has instantly turned competitive. You count down, and as your thumbs begin to battle, you feel the competitiveness in yourself grow, too. 
“Yes!” You cry. You have him pinned. 
You’re counting down when Vernon suddenly surges forward, your hands falling apart as you let out an ‘oof’ and fall to the ground. You let out a squeak as your back hits the floor with a soft thud, Vernon landing on top of you. His arms are on either side of your head as he pushes himself up a little, chest hovering above yours, and you can audibly hear the way your breath catches in your throat.
"Just shut up and let me pick a movie," he says breathlessly, and you’re sure you've forgotten how to breathe. His hips are between your knees, his chest pressed to yours, and you can feel every part of him against you.  
"Make me shut up," come your words, and you regret it immediately. His eyebrows raise, just as surprised as you are, and you swear he falters a little. 
"I will," he says back after a pause, and you can’t tear your gaze away from his. "I'll kiss you." 
The blood is rushing to your cheeks before you have time to think. Around now would be the time that you look away, but he’s so close that you can’t. Your heart is nearly pounding out of your chest, and you’re certain he can hear it. Or feel it.
Your head is spinning as you force out a laugh before saying, "Okay, bro."
Vernon’s eyes search your face before meeting your gaze again. His expression is serious, and you hold your breath as you wait for him to react.
But all he does is stand up, holding his hands up in surrender. "You can choose.” 
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For the rest of the night, things feel a bit awkward between you. You don’t comment on it like you normally would, because Vernon hasn’t said anything, which means he’s probably forgotten and it’s just you that’s making it weird now. You make it through your pick, and then he surprises you by picking one of your other favourites to watch as a second movie. It’s sweet, but you’re confused since he'd caused such a fuss earlier. 
As the movie progresses, you begin to relax a little. You can feel Vernon’s eyes on you as you giggle to yourself, and you shoot him a glare.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He shakes his head. You turn back to the TV, focusing again when you hear him add, quieter, “You’re cute.”
Your head whips back in his direction. He avoids your gaze this time, the only telltale sign he notices you looking shown in the way he fidgets with the remote. 
“What did you say?”
“I said you’re annoying.”
You think ignoring everything that’s just transpired in the last minute is probably for the best. 
“I’m about to be really annoying, then,” you quip – and then you begin to quote line after line. 
It’s one of his biggest pet peeves, and he knows you’re doing it on purpose. You continue, waiting for him to break. It doesn’t take very long.
"Oh my god. Shut up." You can hear the smile in his voice, and you know you aren’t annoying him that much. 
"Make me," you shoot back without thinking, your heart stopping as you quickly remember where those two words had gotten you just a couple of hours before. You think Vernon is holding his breath, too, and you resist the urge to shrink even further back into his couch. Don’t make it weird, it’s fine, you’re just joking, don’t make it –
Vernon’s hand is on your face before you can finish your thought, tilting your chin up towards him – and then he’s kissing you.
When he pulls back, it takes a second for your eyes to flutter open again. And when they do, he’s already looking back at you, unwavering. His thumb brushes against your chin before he smirks and says, eyebrows raised, "I told you I would, bro.”
Your mouth is agape as he drops his hand and turns back to the movie. You feel a bit like your entire brain is resetting as you process what just happened.
“Are you flirting with me?”
“I’ve been trying to do that for like, three years now, so… yeah.”
“You kissed me.”
Vernon looks at you again now, and you absolutely cannot understand how he’s so calm about all of this. Smiling about it, even. “I did. Thoughts?”
Your friend is stoic at the best of times, but his eyes always give him away. When he doesn’t break your gaze, when he just waits while you process, you can see it in the way he’s looking at you — that even if he seems calm on the outside, he’s nervous. Nervous that you’re going to reject him, nervous that he may have overstepped, nervous that you don’t like him back. As if that would even be possible. “I think,” you say slowly, “that the movie can wait a little longer if you wanted to kiss me some more… bro.”
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@wheeboo @tae-bebe @waldau @eoieopda @gyuminusone @minisugakoobies @lvlystars @seohomrwolf @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @christinewithluv @wqnwoos @iluvseokmin
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Winter's King 15
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: One more day and I'm a homeowner
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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You slow to a crawl amid the retinue of carts and horses. The sun beams down relentlessly on the summer fields. As you laze in a sheen of sweat, Bryce works to tie a swath of linen over the cart in a makeshift canopy. You thank him for his effort, his own brow slick with sweat as he tugs at his mail. 
“I admit my winter’s hide is not made well for this sun,” he utters as he reaches to pet Daisy, the loyal steed tied to his new one as he rides in step with her. “Let’s hope we might reach the tundra in due time.” 
“Mm, it is rather hot,” you murmur, exhausted from the endless blaze. It’s three days thus far and many more ahead of you. 
“Little maid, cannot complain even when you should,” he tuts. 
The cart rolls on, rocking your body as the hooves clomp down on dusty grass. As the train passes over the lands, they leave a trodden path in their stead. The progress is steady but sluggish. 
The wheels creak and lurch to a halt as Bryce reins in both horses. You sit up and peer ahead, unable to see more than horse tails and overloaded carts, the helms of soldiers shining under the sun. The knight on his dark steed sits up straighter, alert as he leans forward. 
“Eh, maid, keep watch on the mare,” he tosses the reins at you as the royal party comes to a halt. 
His horse kicks up dirty as he gallops around the edge of the train. You watch him bend over the beast’s long neck and hurdle ahead of the clog of vehicles and bodies. Something is amiss. 
You wait, nervous, as other servants cluster together and wonder aloud. Soldiers mill up and down the winding retinue, themselves sharing no more than looks. You climb out of the cart and walk on your cramped legs. You stroke Daisy’s head as she huffs through her nostrils and nuzzles your shoulder. 
“I don’t know either,” you tell her softly. 
The pause stretches on and Bryce returns, his horse in a lather. He swings off and lands solidly on his feet. He looks between you and the grey mare. 
“Some hold-up, nothing to worry for,” he explains, “enough time to find some water for these beasts.” 
He takes Daisy’s reins and hands them to you, “come, there is a river near. I can smell it.” 
You peek ahead and squint. You don’t know that you believe it is nothing though you can’t find a reason to argue. You nod and tug on Daisy’s bit. 
The soldier leads you across the grass, well away from the front of the train. Others disperse to sit in the meadow and chew on their rations. You continue into the trees and the trickle of the promised water has Bryce proudly exclaiming. He weaves his way around the trunks to come upon the bank, putting his dark brown horse to drink. As the larger stallion laps noisily, Daisy lowers her head and patiently gulps up the ripples. 
“Where did you find Chestnut?” you ask. “He must be a castle horse.” 
“Aye, he was locked away in some stall. They said he is vicious. Due to be horse pie.” 
“Horse pie? But he is fast.” 
“They did not lie. He likes to nip,” Bryce warns as you step between the horse, “watch your fingers, mouse.” 
“Perhaps he only did not like being locked up,” you suggest and gently touch the horse’s long mane, working out a tangle in the hair. He doesn’t seem to notice. 
“Chestnut?” Bryce says, “you’ve given him a name of your own.” 
“You didn’t say if he had one,” you brush your hand over the fine short hairs along the horse’s shoulder. “I thought it suited him.” 
“Mm, I might call his Hellion but Chestnut is kinder, I s’pose.” 
You chuckle. The horse lifts its head and you near the river’s edge. It turns to sniff you and Bryce reaches for your arm. The horse drips water onto you as it sniffs your neck. It lifts its lip, showing its square teeth, then touches its nose to yours, turning back to the water to nicker. 
“Mm, you do have a way of taming the wildest creatures, eh,” he muses as he lets you go. “Come, I saw some berries back in the bush.” 
You leave the horses near the water and follow the soldier between the trees. As he squats to pluck out dark blackberries, you sway on your feet and glance back toward the road. 
“Why have we stopped, sir?” You ask. 
“Told ya, no matter to worry for,” he stands and offers you a handful, “be thankful for it. We’ve found a nice horde and it will do ya good to be out of the sun. And to eat.” 
You accept the bounty and frown. You know he isn’t telling you all but you know he wouldn’t do so without reason. You stand and pick at the berries, biting in hungrily as the juices coat your mouth. The soldier eats as he picks, plucking a few into his purse as well. 
“How do ya like squirrel meat?” He stands again, “I could find us a morsel for the evening fire. Perhaps a hare if I can.” 
“If you like, sir,” you accept. You chew your lip and search the trees. “Is there truly nothing wrong?” 
“I told ya not to worry,” he growls. “So don’t trouble yerself.” 
He beckons you back towards the river. You follow, not asking any more questions. It’s expected that the road won’t be easy, something just feels awry. 
⚔️
The party makes camp at the point of the delay. You return to the road as Bryce grumbles about the evening warmth. The dry heat lingers in the air even as the sun begins its descent. 
“Come, you will need look in on the queen, I’m certain,” he ties the horses to the cart and urges you along. 
You notice less soldiers as you stride through the train. It’s not so crowded as before. The missing bodies add to your uneasiness. Still, the queen’s tent has been erected and guards keep vigil right outside. You enter and find her alone. She has a veil over her hair as she taps the brim of a cup with her fingernail. 
“Alas, a maid!” She snaps as she sees you, “I’ve been calling for wine all night and those damned soldiers only bring me water.” 
“Your highness,” you back out of the tent. The soldiers do not move. 
You go to the luggage and search for a bottle. You grab one and return to the tent. The soldier at your right extends his arm before you can enter. 
“No wine,” he snatches the bottle, “king’s orders.” 
You blanch and look ahead at the silken flap. You nod and thank the soldier as he keeps the wine under his arm. You blow out between your breath and once more push through the draped fabric. 
“Your highness, there is to be no wine. The king has commanded it,” you say meekly. 
“Pardon me? Who are you to refuse me?” She stands and snarls. “My head is on fire, I need wine.” 
“Yes, your highness, but the king--” 
“I am the queen. My order is a good as his. Bring me wine. Now. You little twit.” 
You stare at her unmoving. 
“They won’t allow it, your highness--” 
A flurry of veil and skirts rushes towards you. Before you can react, a scalding heat radiates over your cheek, the force behind the queen’s slap rattling your head. You stagger back and clutch your head between your hands. 
“You stupid girl! I am the queen! You are a dumb maid!” She strikes you again, her hand glancing off your forearm, “stupid stupid twit!” 
She continues to hammer you with blows, closing her fists as she hits your shoulders and stomach. You shrink down, curling into yourself as you keep your head shielded. She huffs, tired from her assault, and twirls away. 
“I don’t want to see you unless you have a bottle in hand,” she snarls and kicks over the stool. “Go before I have you gutted.” 
You wine and stand straight, lip quivering. You turn and hold your left shoulder as it thrums. You step into the night air, aware that the soldiers could no doubt hear the queen’s fit. They say nothing and you don’t either. 
You continue through the train of bodies. You feel your cheek pulsing and your brow swelling. You keep your head down and as you reach the cart, you relieved to find it alone but for the two dozing horses. You climb up and turn towards the wooden wall, hiding against it as you hug the cushion. 
It isn’t so different from Debray, only that you don’t have Merinda to hold you, to share in your pain. You always preferred that it was you who faced the rather of the ladies. You only hope Lady Rezlyn isn’t issuing the same displeasure upon your companion. 
⚔️
The morning comes with the tweeting of birds and a distant rumble. You sit up and look towards the sky. There are no clouds to forewarn a storm. You stare into the horizon where the thunderous noise rolls over the plains. 
You see the figures on their approach. Men on horses. As soldiers rush to confront them, their alarm is eased by the wave of a familiar banner. It is the king and his party. 
Bryce grumbles as Daisy sniffs him and the coughs into his hand. He shakes his head as you lean out of the cart, watching the specks on the tapestry of green grass. You gasp as you feel him grip your wrist. 
“Eh, mouse, what’s happened to ya?” He demands as he pulls your attention back from the distance. 
You look at him and the tenderness in your cheek reminds you of the queen’s wrath. You wiggle free of his grasp and sit back against the side of the wagon. You shake your head. 
“I went to... the bushes to relieve myself, sir. I tripped.” 
He squints at you, his square jaw gritting. He stares daggers at you. You’re not a good liar but you can’t tell him the truth. 
“Tripped?” He echoes as his thick brows furrow. 
“Yes, sir, it was dark,” you say. “I’ll be alright.” 
“Mm, you look as if you were caught by a bear.” 
“Really, sir, I am well,” you put your head down. 
He growls under his breath and turns away. He fiddles around with his saddle bag before he returns to the cart. He reaches over the top, holding a folded cloth with an acrid smell roiling off of it. 
“Put it on ya face,” he demands. “It’ll soothe ya, make you a little less puffy.” 
“Thank you, sir.” 
“You don’t go trippin’ no more. If ya do, ya let me know,” he scowls. 
You nod, sinking into a tense silence. You both know it’s a lie but neither of you will admit it. You put the cloth to your cheek and exhale. It cools your skin though the smell burns your nose. 
⚔️
That night you don’t return to the queen’s tent. Bryce claims there’s no need for it. She needs her sleep, as do you. It’s another lie you won’t call out. 
Several days pass in the cart. Short nights followed by sweltering days. It’s as if there is no end to the road or the heat. 
You sit on your knees, looking ahead as Bryce chews sweet leaves and spits onto the ground. Daisy’s tail sweeps behind her as she keeps a steady trot. You watch the progress with impatience, each moment feeling more and more trapped in the cart. 
“...down in Debray...” you hear a voice drift back. 
“...don’t like traitors, suppose...” another returns and you search over the carts to try to place the speakers. 
“Careful, mouse,” Bryce warns, “you’ll fall under the wheels. 
You sit back and face him, holding onto the side of the cart, “sir, what happened?” 
“What do ya mean? We’ve been riding,” he sniffs. 
“No, days ago, when we stopped. Something... in Debray?” 
He grimaces and spits out the leaves completely. He shakes his head, clearing his throat. 
“Nothing a maid needs worry about,” he girds. 
“I know, sir, my apologies. I’m only curious...” you hang your head, “I... I was raised there, is all.” 
He hums and rocks with the motion of Chestnut’s steps, “skirmish up a ways. Party on their way to the castle. Certainly, you know your former master’s deceit has bought him little good will.” 
“A skirmish?” 
“Ah, so it was, but nothing very dire. The king returned in good spirits, that rat lord—the duke with him,” Bryce explains, “course, it only suits that the lord should see to the defence of his own castle.” He chortles, “shouldn’t tell ya, maid, so ya keeps your lips sealed, but the duke meant to hide in the queen’s tent.” He shakes his head and sighs, “in the Hinterlands, them sortsa lords aren’t lords for long.” 
“Mm,” you purse your lips thoughtfully, “but... but the duke, he helped end the war.” 
“By betraying his kingdom. We didn’t come to conquer; we came to unite. Turns out, there’s more fractures than those between winter and summer. Shoulda know by Yellow Waleran’s deeds.” 
“Yellow?” You wonder. 
“Mouse, it is a lot you needn’t worry for. All I can say is a king isn’t much of one if he don’t keep his word,” he sighs, “any lord or man lacks substance if he melts like ice.”  
You look down and watch Chestnut’s legs. You slant your lips. 
“King Geralt, did he have some agreement with Waleran then?” 
Bryce snorts, “too clever. Promises. Broken promises. Deadly things.” 
You nod and hold your chin, “and King Geralt, he is a good king?” 
“Do you not know by now?” He asks with a smirk, “he is a man who keeps his word. A man who fights for his people, not for gold and a name. No good winter lord would kneel to a man built on coin. Blood, that buys crowns. It buys loyalty.” 
You lower yourself onto your bottom and draw your knees up, “for his people?” 
“You heard him say it, you summer’s blood are one with us now. Once he has his heir, it will all be set in flesh. A prince to join the realm,” Bryce says, “let us hope he comes soon. The king’s done his part, he’s fought his battles, now it is up to your queen to claim her victory.” 
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hellcat8908 · 2 days
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Come Home Poly Batboys x Female Reader
Note: This is part 2 of Let Her Go
Warnings: Language
Over the last few weeks, the letters from Azriel and Cassian had piled up in a basket by the door. They sat unopened and ignored as you gave yourself the time to process the events of that night. It was no surprise that Azriel had learned where you were living, not that you were trying to hide anyway. The gossip around you and your mates had only worsened since you left. You first tried therapy, but they only seemed to be interested in details about your mates and not what you needed to work through, so you quickly gave up. Instead, you turned to journaling as a way to get your emotions and thoughts out and somewhat organized.
You currently sat in your favorite chair with your journal in your lap as you wrote out your feelings for the day. A series of harsh knocks disrupted you, causing you to leave your journal on the end table. You were surprised to see Rhys standing at your doorstep. You're tempted to slam the door in his face, but think better of it. "What are you doing here?" You ask cautiously. "I want to talk to you." He says, his voice sounding rough. "We have nothing to talk about." You answer. "I think we both know that's not true. Please, y/n." He says with a certain sadness.
"You said everything you needed to say that night. You made it clear where I stand with you." You say as his words come flooding back to your mind. You move to shut the door, but he stops it with his foot. "Please, I'm only asking for a few minutes of your time and for you to listen." He says pleadingly. Your anger rises at his words. "Only asking for a few minutes of my time and for me to listen?! No, you're asking for so much more than that. You're asking for me to relive the worst night of my life. You're asking me to let you in and open wounds that's that haven't had a proper chance to heal because I'm drowning in it. I have no one to talk to while the three of you have each other. So, no, you're not only asking for my time and for me to listen!"
He at least has the decency to look apologetic. "I'm sorry. I didn't think-" he starts to say, but you interrupt him. "That's the problem, you don't think, especially when it comes to me. You only think about yourself and your court. You're an amazing high lord but a terrible mate." You say as you let the anger take over. "I think it's best if you leave." You tell him. "I'm sorry." He says brokenly as he turns away. Once the door shuts behind you, you crumple to the floor, allowing the pain and anger to consume you as you fall apart. You let all the hurt and anger flood the bond so they might finally realize what they've put you through.
You manage to force yourself out of bed two days later. You make breakfast before grabbing the paper from the doorstep. Your eyes widen at the headline. You throw on some clothes and quickly braid your hair before making your way into Velaris. You don't bother knocking and let yourself in. You practically run to Rhys's office where you find him along with Cassian and Azriel. They stare at you in surprise. "What do you think you're doing?!" You demand as you focus your attention on Rhys. "What needed to be done." He says. "No! You stepping down as high lord is the worst thing you could do for this court!" You respond angrily.
"But the best thing I could do for us! You're tired of coming second to my court. Well, this is the solution." He replies. "It's not the solution! It's you overreacting!" You shout. "You're not stepping down as high lord! If you do, I will disappear without a trace, and you will never see me again!" You shout. "There is just no winning with you. Is there?! No matter what I do, it isn't right!" Rhys shouts. "Why does everything have to be so black and white with you?! All I wanted was for you to respect my feelings and stop treating me as anything less than your mate!" You shout before you feel the warmth of Cassian's arm as he pulls you from the room while Azriel stops Rhys from following.
Cassian carries you to the bedroom and blocks the door before sitting you down. "What the hell, Cass?!" You ask. "You tell me!" He says as he crosses his arms. "What is it going to take for you to forgive us?!" He asks angrily as he runs his fingers through his hair. He doesn't give you a chance to answer, "Those months of silence you're punishing us for are bullshit. You didn't speak up either. You never once addressed it with us or the ones gossiping. We just assumed you were ignoring it like the rest of us. You share just as much blame in this as we do." He says before storming out, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
You sit on the oversized bed you all once shared. You run your fingers over the comforter. You curl up in the bed and allow a few tears to escape. You hold the pillow that smells of Azriel as you find comfort in it. You think about what Cassian said as you lay in silence. You zone out until a knock pulls you back to reality. Azriel opens the door, "is it ok if I come in?" He asks. He takes your silence as a yes and sits on the bed beside you. "Did you come to yell at me too?" You ask. "No, I brought you some tea and a muffin from your favorite bakery." He says.
"How did everything get so bad?" You ask, ignoring his offer. "A lot of things went left unsaid from all of us until it spiraled into something toxic." He says honestly. "Think we can ever get back to the way it was?" You ask. "Do you want to?" He questions in response. "I want it to be better." You answer honestly, "but I'm worried we won't be able to move past this." His shadows gently play with your hair, causing you to visibly relax. "All we can do is try." He says softly. "They hate me so much, though." You say as you choke back a sob. He wraps his arms around you, "Nobody hates you, princess. We all just need to calm down and discuss what needs to change moving forward." He says, always being the voice of reason to you.
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mcflymemes · 3 days
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CHALLENGERS (2024) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary.
who says i want somebody to be in love with me?
i don't want to fuck you to prove a point.
fuck me because you want to.
are you gonna do it or not?
tastes even better than it looks.
i just told you i missed you.
i really want to kiss you right now, but i'm worried that if i try, you'll think i'm the worst friend in the world.
you know, it hurts me sometimes how little you believe in yourself.
decimate that little bitch.
let's be honest, you gotta feel bad for the kid.
you're not a spring chicken anymore.
dude. he's a pancake. you're gonna flatten him.
how's this feeling?
we're ready for you.
so obviously this isn't the result you wanted today.
you choked.
i don't want you to embarrass yourself.
i'm just a little rusty. it's a confidence thing.
get your fucking confidence back. i can't do it for you.
i'm so sick of you using this as an excuse to have a fucking meltdown.
you said we could watch a movie.
you're evil.
i'm gonna quiz you on it tomorrow.
sir, i don't know who you are.
i don't think we have much more to talk about.
i haven't spoken to you in five years.
i was just taking a little nap.
move, or i'm calling the cops.
you were really something back then, huh?
we always talked about how amazing it would be to win this together.
i'm a crazy person.
any predictions about how that's going to go?
can you do me a favor? can you not, like... demolish me tomorrow?
shut the fuck up.
if it matters to you so much, i can just give it to you.
i need it to look like i really beat you.
don't guilt me with your dying grandmother.
she's the hottest woman i've ever seen.
you were... fucking incredible.
baby, we've got to get going.
i'm not going to that party.
are you that threatened by me?
we can't both just go in there, dicks swinging.
i'd let her fuck me with a racket.
hey, do you smoke?
of course they will remember you.
see, that's your problem. you think you're like an artist or something.
you just want to win because you love it when people tell you how talented you are.
are you on facebook?
i told you tennis was boring.
you just got this crazy look on your face.
are you on a date?
i don't kiss and tell.
why did you want to have dinner with me?
i think you might be the worst friend in the world.
i didn't know you were so concerned about my feelings.
of course you still have a thing for her.
we just had what i'm assuming is the best sex of our lives.
i fucked your brains out?
what do you think you need? a cheerleader? a fuck buddy? a girlfriend?
you're talented, you're charming, and you've got a big dick.
excuse me for inconveniencing you.
don't expect to sleep here tonight.
stop going easy on me.
i'll be whatever you need me to be. i'll fuck off if you want me to.
i need you here, actually.
you're referring to when i declared my love for you.
you're not in love with me anymore?
i've been dreaming about this for five years.
i'm gonna propose something to you, and it's gonna make you angry. it's gonna make you very angry. but you have to hear me out, okay?
i'm finally ready to listen to you.
how dare you fucking ask me that.
do you think it's cute what you're doing? do you think it's funny?
that's the stupidest fucking thing i've ever heard.
i've always wanted you.
you didn't do anything to me. i did it all to myself.
i think i've reached the limit of my willingness to have this conversation with you.
do you understand how embarrassing it is that you're here?
you've never beaten me.
tell me it doesn't matter.
will you just hold me?
i'm not here to fuck you.
i miss watching you play. you were so beautiful.
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sunriiize · 3 days
Text
While We're Young | 1.0k
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Anton x reader
Note : this was gonna be part 1 of a series a scrapped 😔 anyways this is heavily based of While We’re Young by Jhenè Aiko
Warnings : first love trope, mention of other idols (Naori Rei), based in America (but I'm British...), kissing, my first time writing purely fluff
You stared at the vacant courtyard, eyes focusing on the way the leaves sway with each blow of wind. You've always found tranquility in nature. Whether it be the chirping of the morning birds or the humming of a bee passing by, it didn't matter. It felt like all the stress of exams and university melted away once you remembered how little you are compared to nature, like a drop of water in the ocean. You were quickly dragged out of your thoughts once you recognised a familiar person strolling through the grassy scenery. Anton.
You knew he didn't have any lectures today so you were surprised to say the least. Hastily, you gathered your belongings and got ready to leave. And as if on cue, your lecturer began to thank everyone for coming as people began to filter out of the room. buzz buzz buzz. Once you stepped into the hallway, you held your phone up to your ear.
"Hi Anton, where are you going?" You spoke as you navigated your way through the busy corridor.
"Hey Angel" He spoke from behind you before ending the call.
"I told you not to call me that!" You pouted and playfully slapped his side. Best friends aren't supposed to say things like that, things that cause butterflies to flutter crazily in your stomach, things that make your heart pound against your ribs.
"Lets say 'fuck everyone' and walk hand and hand to the Sun"
He intertwines his fingers with yours as he says "Don't act like you don't love it" in a teasing tone. You don't reply. Opting for silence rather than letting him hear the truth. You do love it. You love the way it sounds coming out his lips. Gosh, his lips are so pretty, so soft. You just wanna see how they'll feel against your fingers or better yet, your own lips.
"Telling everybody your mine and I like it"
The way your mind reeled over every little thing he did was a common occurrence at this point. It started during the last year high school, it was one of those swimming practices where everyone just felt lazy. As Anton was getting out the pool he asked you to help him but instead of him getting out, you got in. He pulled you close to him as you dropped into the deep end of the pool. Later that evening, as you were trying to sleep, you couldn't take your mind off how his hands felt around you. It was so... odd. If you really wanted to take it back to the root though, you'd have to go back to the start of highschool when you over heard Naoi Rei and her group talking about how good looking Anton is. You felt this weird jealousy and instead of just letting it go you decided to make it very clear that Anton was somewhat yours. Looking back, it was a bit extreme but at least it got the message across.
"Y/n? Helloooo, earth to y/n" he waves his free hand in front of your face. "Sorry, what were you saying" you look up at him with an apologetic smile. He explains the whole thing once again. He tells you how he actually wanted to pick you up from class so you could go to his dorm to have a movie night. Usually you'd show up to Anton's dorm once you had freshened up and gotten snacks but Anton quickly reassured you that the dorm will be empty so you can shower there and he's already gotten the snacks.
"I'll go everywhere you go"
The sun had begun to set by the time you climbed into his bed, leaning your back against the headboard. The familiar scent of your best friend engulfed your senses. Anton adjusted and laid his head on your lap, humming when he feels your fingers run through his fluffy hair.
You sat in a comfortable silence, his focus on the movie as you watched him smile at the screen. Looking up, you see the main couple kissing each other in the rain. Your eyes wander back down and you begin to feel the familiar butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
“Anton?” You whispered, unsure of what you're gonna say next.
"hm?" he smiles as he turns his head towards you.
“Can I kiss you?” You say in the same quiet voice as before, the rhythmic beating of your heat quickly sped up. His eyes widen slightly and his lips part before he nods, tucking his lower lip between his teeth.
You bend down and kiss him hesitantly, savouring the pillowy feeling of his lips. You feel him lean into the kiss before placing his hand on your neck to bring you closer. The room felt like it was spinning by the time you separated. Anton sat up and looked at you with wide eyes. "Again?" he said beneath his breath.
This time was different, more romantic. The way your lips moved against each other could only be described as a dance, both of you moving along with an imaginary beat.
“Wait” you confess as you pulled away from him. He quickly makes some distance between the two of you. “I can’t go further if we’re just friends”.
It’s silent for a couple moments after that, “Anton? Are we just friends”. That’s all it took for the feelings he’s been hiding to just tumble out of him. He quickly denies the question and tells you about how he’s been wanting this for so long but didn’t want to lose you.
“I didn’t want to scare you away” he admits. He was always so considerate, especially when it came to you. "You could never" you reassured him before hugging him.
A familiar sense of tranquility washed over you as you tighten the embrace, nuzzling your head into his chest.
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misshoneyimhome · 3 days
Note
Inexperienced reader marked up Willy's neck while sitting on his lap. His desperate groans forced her to bite down harder than she had before as they grinded against one another. She felt her heart rate speed up as her breathing became shallow. Willy's body began to tense up as he let out a loud moan. She released her grip and pulled away, her cheeks burning. Are you gonna try & hide them?" You say, pulling away with a pout on your lips. Willy shook his head, a mischievous smile on his face as he pointed his index finger at her. "No way," he said, his voice a low whisper. "I'm gonna show them off." They are both possessive in their own right.
Mmm yes, they're definitely possessive babe! And we them for it 😉
So, this chapter turned out to be rather soft, yet still filled with loads of smut - and I just hope you all enjoy it 😊🤍
[casual outing] [Hair tucking]
Tropes & warnings; jealous!Willy, Jealous!reader, Smut 18+; fingering, handjob, penetrative sex (p in v), hair pulling, light spanking, cum inside, oral sex (m receiving), more penetrative sex (p in vi), cum shot, praise!kink;
Word count; 5.6K
"God morgon, prinsessa," = Good morning, princess
"God morgon, min prins," = Good morning, my prince
「Inexperienced!reader x Willy」
Taglist; @couldawouldashoulda50 @findapenny @Fortheloveofnylander @justwanderingbutneverlost
-
All good boys go to heaven - But bad boys bring heaven to you pt XV I William Nylander 🖋️⚡️
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Navigating life as an NHL girlfriend always came with its share of highs and lows. And as the regular season drew to a close and the playoffs loomed closer, you found yourself experiencing the bitter side of the journey.
Your feelings for your boyfriend William Nylander remained steadfast regardless, yet the strain on your relationship was becoming palpable.
Describing the final weeks of March as tough felt like an understatement; victories against the Oilers followed by losses to the Hurricanes and the Devils, then another win against the Capitals and the Sabres. It was an emotional rollercoaster for everyone involved.
And after each game, you did your utmost to either console William or provide him with unwavering support. But it wasn't always a straightforward task.
While William typically kept his emotions in check in public, behind closed doors, he was gradually becoming more open. The topic was somewhat delicate, with several small discussions sparked by his seemingly too calm demeanour, yet you encouraged him to let it out.
As you'd discuss the games on your way home, he'd often brush it off, insisting that everything was fine, and they simply needed to perform better next time. And he wasn't entirely wrong. It was perhaps the healthiest mindset to maintain mental stability. Yet, beneath the surface, you sensed there was more to the story, something simmering beneath his composed exterior.
But when William avoided delving deeper into the matter, you decided it was best to table it, at least for the time being.
As April began, the stakes grew higher than ever. The Toronto Maple Leafs teetered on the edge of playoffs, demanding undivided attention to games and training. Consequently, you found yourself inadvertently assuming the role of a housewife, managing grocery runs, meal preparation, and dog-walking duties, especially when William's trainer couldn't spare the time. And balancing your own work responsibilities with being a supportive hockey girlfriend was gradually becoming overwhelming.
Just weeks ago, amidst some wonderful moments shared with William, discussions ventured into territories like finances and the integration of your lives, leading you to make the decision to give up your apartment and fully commit to living with him.
However, as tensions simmered within the walls of your spacious condo, each evening seemingly hotter with unresolved arguments, you reached a breaking point. So you opted to spend a few days at your own place. It wasn't about avoiding William but rather acknowledging the toll these conflicts were taking on you, and recognising you needed a breather before it got too tense. 
You knew the conversations weren't too bad, at least not as per what some of the other girlfriends and wives had shared with you. It was simply around this time of year when the players tend to turn everything into a debate at home. Yet it felt as if the world would come crashing down if you kept it going. 
It would typically start with you attempting to console William, and then it’d escalate. 
"Come on, Willy, just talk to me – that's what I'm here for,” you spoke firmly. 
"There's nothing to talk about. Just leave it, y/n,” he avoided your attempt for a conversation. 
"Look, it's obviously bothering you – I can sense it..."
"Oh, so now you can feel what I feel? Great talent there, y/n..." William almost snorted. 
"That's not fair, Willy... All I want is to try and help..."
"But there's nothing you can do to help! It is what it is."
"Stop saying that! All I want is to support you – there's no need for you to be a dick about it!"
"Well, that's just how it is! You knew that when you got into a relationship with me..."
"Yes! I knew this would be a challenging time, and I was prepared for it – but you also knew you were getting into a relationship, so now you have to accept that you're not alone in this anymore. I'm here to support you, William Nylander, whether you like it or not!"
And with that, the discussion came to a close. It was a delicate balance, wanting to show support while giving William the space he needed. Meanwhile, he needed to understand that you would always be there for him, ready to lend a listening ear, and he couldn't simply push you away when he didn't want to confront his emotions.
So, after a few trial-and-error attempts, you somewhat figured it out.
Yet, stepping into your familiar home brought a sense of relief. Within your own walls, away from the chaos of hockey and media scrutiny, and the unanswerable questions at work about the team's performance, you found tranquillity.
Being apart from your boyfriend for a few days, even though you were in the same city, wasn't easy. But it felt necessary.
And for William, it did provide some focus on his training and the upcoming match against the Canadiens.Deep down, he understood that you weren't trying to leave him, though a part of him feared it. He recognised that you needed time and space, just as he often did, to concentrate on matters beyond the minor disputes at home.
And as the Leafs returned from Montreal, having officially secured their place in the playoffs, it felt like things were returning to normal. Back in your shared home, wrapped in each other's arms, it was pure celebration. You were practically inseparable upon his return, elated from the victory.
-
Sunday was solely dedicated to celebration, and in his role as a gracious host and teammate, Mitch had extended an invitation to the team for dinner at his restaurant. It was meant to be a relaxed evening, bearing in mind the upcoming game against the Penguins the following day, and with the tense and challenging times ahead, everyone saw it as an opportunity to enjoy some calm before the storm.
However, as you moved about the condo, getting ready for the evening proved to be a bit of a challenge.
"Willy," you giggled as you struggled to put on your outfit, standing in the walk-in closet wearing nothing but your underwear. "You really need to let go so I can finish up."
"Hmm," he hummed as he embraced you, burying his face in your neck and planting kisses while his hands wandered over your body, eventually settling on his favourite spot: your ass. "But then you'll just put on clothes... and I prefer you without..." he teased, pulling back to meet your gaze with a mischievous grin.
"Well, I'm sorry, but that would be highly inappropriate for a restaurant outing," you chuckled as you gently wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body lightly against his.
"Or... maybe we skip the dinner... and just stay in here, where we can both be naked," he suggested seductively, and you couldn't help but smile and shake your head gently.
"You can be such a brat sometimes – this is your team, Willy, and we both know you'd love to be with them for dinner," you reasoned with a playful glint in your eye. While the idea of staying home, naked and cuddled up with William was tempting, you also recognised the importance of gatherings like tonight's.
"Hmm," William merely hummed. "I suppose I'll have to... maybe then, try and persuade you."
William's chuckle was nothing short of cheeky and seductive, and you couldn't help but emit a squeak as he hoisted you over his shoulder, carrying you to the bedroom where he playfully tossed you onto the mattress. It was a typical Nylander move, and once he had that dark look in his eyes, there was no stopping him from giving in to the sexual tension, from feeling him inside you as he elicited cries and moans from your lips.
And tonight, even before dinner, was no exception.
As William captured your lips with his, you were immediately drawn into his touch, completely captivated as his tongue danced with yours. Your lips moved in sync, your hands clutching his blonde locks tightly as his body pressed against yours, igniting a hunger and intensity filled with raw lust and desire. And before long, he freed his already hard member from his boxers, discarding your lacy underwear in the process.
You knew this wouldn't be one of those drawn-out sessions where William took his time eating you out, ensuring you reached climax multiple times before satisfying himself. Instead, it was a quick, eager, and playful encounter, where you started out by stroking his shaft, eliciting moans from him, while he moistened two fingers with saliva and inserted them into your core.
The kisses were fervent, occasionally interrupted by moans and heavy breaths. Hands explored each other's bodies, drawing each other closer until William abruptly pulled away. And in one swift motion, he turned you around, knelt behind you, lifted your ass, and entered you.
"Fuck yes..." he groaned deeply as he effortlessly filled you, hitting all the right spots with ease.
"Mmm, yes, Willy..." you moaned in tandem with his deep sounds, quickly succumbing to primal passion. Your fingers gripped the sheets beneath you, while William's hands firmly grasped your hips as he thrust into your warmth. It was far from romantic; it was raw, unbridled passion as William intensified his pace, his hips colliding with yours, his heavy breaths mingling with your loud cries.
William was simply overcome with desire for your body, but knowing he wasn't one to climax too quickly, he also knew he had to exert force to prevent the encounter from dragging on.
And caught in the heat of the moment, he couldn't restrain his actions. His thrusts were powerful and unrelenting, his hand finding your long hair and gripping it tightly as he increased his speed.
"Fuck... Willy!" you cried out as he piston deeper and faster with each thrust. Pleasure surged through you, tears threatening to spill from the sheer intensity as your body surrendered to his forceful advances. Your core clenched around his relentless shaft, your walls overstimulated, and your cunt dripping with every movement. "Shiii- Willy... Oh god, I'm gonn—"
You couldn't even form coherent words as he pulled your head back, intensifying his movements even further. And you were certain his thrusts would leave a mark on your skin, yet in that moment, you couldn't care less.
William's actions were so fierce and dominant that you had to close your eyes and surrender to him completely. Your body belonged to him, and you had no desire to challenge his power. Instead, you allowed ecstasy to consume you entirely, your moans growing louder and louder as your orgasm surged through your body, mind, and soul, causing you to scream his name for all to hear.
"Fuck, yes... that's my good girl," William praised, maintaining his movements as he felt his own climax nearing. "I fucking love this ass..." And with a swift motion, he let go of your hip to deliver a firm smack to your cheek.
Your wet core seemed tailor-made for his cock as he pounded into you with incredible force, his shaft drenched as it slid in and out of you, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing in the room. With each thrust, he increased his speed, pushing himself closer to the edge, and his deep grunts filled the air as he shut his eyes and moaned deeply, releasing himself into your depths.
The experience was nothing short of amazing and intense. It took a few minutes for both of you to catch your breath and regain your strength before slowly disentangling yourselves from the position. No words were necessary. Your core was sore and tingling, coated with William's release as he withdrew, yet your mind was in a blissful state, completely consumed by the rush.
And William couldn't help but admire his handiwork as he noticed the slight redness on your skin from his actions. With a playful grin spreading across his lips, he gently caressed your cheek before placing a tender kiss on it.
"Fucking love this ass," he repeated, this time softer and filled with desire, causing you to look back at him with a chuckle.
"You're a real problem, Nylander..."
"What do you mean?" he chuckled darkly.
"Look what you've done. Now we both have to shower again and get dressed, meaning we'll be late for dinner..."
It was a familiar scenario. William was notorious on the team for always being late, and for the past four months, you had been one of the main reasons for that. Your sex life had always been adventurous, but it was the spontaneity that made it even more fun. And William made no effort to hide it from anyone.
"Well, then we better get moving," he simply chuckled before getting off the bed with a wide grin.
-
"Finally, you guys decided to show up!" Auston exclaimed as you entered, everyone already seated.
"Still running late, Willy," Mitch chimed in with a chuckle.
"Yeah, but I bet it's not entirely his fault this time," Järnkrok added with a grin and a wink, causing you to blush slightly as you couldn't deny the truth. Yet, you were quick with a retort.
"Well, at least he's getting some action, unlike some others," you said with a cocky smile, eliciting loud 'oooohhhh's from the players, with William laughing loudly beside you.
And the evening unfolded beautifully, as always. Mitch and Stephanie were excellent hosts, and the upscale restaurant buzzed with nothing but laughter and conversations. The delicious food delighted your taste buds, and the atmosphere was overall filled with joy.
And as everyone anticipated the approaching game, it was evident that everyone needed this evening to unwind and simply enjoy each other's company. Yet, one small detail disrupted your comfort.
"Hey, are you okay?" William whispered as he noticed your slight movements in your seat.
"Hmm," you simply nodded before leaning closer to him. "Though... I'm a little sore, Willy," you whispered, unable to suppress a chuckle.
"Really?" he raised an eyebrow, flashing a satisfied smirk that earned an eye-roll from you.
"Yeah... you were a bit rough, mister," you smiled.
"Hmm, thought you liked it when I'm rough," he grinned, a statement you couldn't really refute. A significant part of your sex life often involved dominant and submissive play, and truth be told you had no complaints.
"Hmm, maybe I do," you softly admitted. "It's just... not easy to sit when your lady parts have been pounded like that..."
Biting his lower lip, William couldn't resist voicing his naughty thoughts. "Well, then I suppose we'll just have to keep practicing until you get used to it."
Even among close friends and their families, the two of you couldn't control your banter. However, as the night progressed, there was a subtle shift in the atmosphere.
After the third course, you joined a few of the ladies in the bathroom, engaging in heartfelt conversations and sharing experiences from the past few weeks.
"Don't worry, y/n," Aryne spoke sweetly. "It's just the playoffs weighing on him. William will be back to his usual self in no time – it just requires a bit more patience from our side this time of year." The other girls nodded in agreement.
Their words were comforting and reassuring. Being your first time dating a professional athlete, you needed their encouragement and support. And after all, most of them had dealt with their husbands and boyfriends throughout their careers.
"How about a drink?" Tessa then suggested with a smile, earning enthusiastic agreement from the group, including you.
And as you all headed to the bar for drinks, any worries seemed to fade away. Amidst laughter and playful jokes about how the ladies needed drinks to cope with their men, you felt completely at ease and comfortable.
That was, until you suddenly felt someone's gaze on you. And it wasn't your boyfriend's.
A few feet away, a rather handsome man was looking in your direction. Though he could have been staring at any woman in the group, you couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine as you turned your head and met his eyes, and he offered you a smile. It wasn't overly direct or forward; just a man trying to flirt with a woman from across the room.
However, almost instinctively, while trying not to consciously reciprocate the flirting, you soon felt a pair of hands on you. And this time, it was your boyfriend's.
He didn't say a word. William's hand simply found its way to your ass, where it belonged, as he stood close to you, flashing you a sweet smile before planting a kiss on your cheek. You didn't even have to look to know that he was eyeing the man who had been attempting to flirt with you, sending him a clear message with a look that said, 'she's mine,' while discreetly giving your cheek a gentle squeeze.
And you couldn't deny how good it made you feel. Knowing that William was boldly asserting your relationship status to the world had you feeling captivated. Especially since you were aware of the numerous girls who longed to be with him, fantasising about your breakup so they could swoop in. But William didn't hide the fact that he was taken, and that made you smile.
Yet, a small part of you felt the temptation to play with fire.
"Feeling a little jealous, are we?" you chuckled lightly as you sipped your drink, William's hand still firmly on your cheek, while more people joined the group at the bar.
"Mmm, he wants what's mine, and I don't like that," William huskily whispered under his breath.
"Yours? Willy, I'm not anyone's property," you raised an eyebrow, but he simply chuckled darkly.
"Yes, you are," he smirked. "It's part of the deal of being with me. I give you a place to stay, and in return, this belongs to me."
His words ignited another arousal within you, despite having just experienced a wonderful orgasm a few hours earlier.
"Oh, so that's how you see it? Hmm, then maybe I should reconsider giving up my apartment," you challenged him, and it seemed to awaken something primal within your boyfriend.
"No - you can't back out now. I've claimed your ass, and now you're mine."
There was a silent exchange of glances as the intensity of the moment lingered, William's hand remaining firmly in place. However, when Mitch announced the arrival of the next course, you both silently agreed to set aside your playful banter for the time being.
-
It was all fun and games between you and William. Well, most of the time at least.
He'd assert his possessiveness over you, you'd playfully challenge him, and then he'd assert his dominance in a sexual manner, reminding you that you did, in fact, belong to him. However, as Monday rolled around and it was time for the Leafs to face off against the Penguins, the dynamics seemed to shift.
The game was nothing short of exhilarating, but it was almost too intense for your liking. After Pittsburgh scored the first goal in the opening period, Kniesy retaliated in the second, followed by Auston putting the Leafs in the lead in the third. But just when victory seemed within reach, the Penguins fought back, forcing the game into overtime. Fortunately, McCabe saved the day, securing a 3-2 victory for the Leafs on home turf, boosting their confidence before their upcoming trip to New Jersey.
But despite the win, a slight unease lingered within you as you prepared to meet your boyfriend in the hallways after the match. Normally, you prided yourself on not being the jealous type of girlfriend who felt insecure when her boyfriend talked to other girls. However, there was something about this particular girl that set your mind spinning.
She was undeniably stunning, her smile radiant and her eyes sparkling as her brown hair cascaded gracefully down her back. And seeing her laughing and chatting with William sparked a small wave of guilt within you.
Nevertheless, you maintained your composure. Slowly, you approached your laughing boyfriend and gently wrapped your arms around his sturdy frame.
"Oh, hey babe," he chuckled, still engrossed in his conversation with the beautiful girl, only briefly acknowledging your presence.
"What's so funny?" you smiled, trying to join in on the conversation.
"I was just telling Willy here about some of the comments people have left on his Rogers' commercial," the girl explained with a sweet tone and smile. "They're just hilarious."
And William continued to laugh, his signature laughter filling the hallway.
"Oh yeah, those were indeed funny," you tried to laugh along, though the amusement quickly faded.
"Anyway, I better get going," the brunette smiled before bidding farewell to William.
There was a moment of silence as William's laughter subsided and he turned to face you.
"What?" he asked innocently.
"What what?" you replied, feigning ignorance of the fact that he had caught on to your jealousy.
"You know what... you're being jealous," he pointed out with a smirk.
"Well, of course I am," you retorted, your voice firm as you gently crossed your arms over your chest. "My boyfriend's chatting with a gorgeous girl after a win, smiling like he's a teenager seeing boobs for the first time, and acting as if I didn't notice."
"Oh, come on, she's just a journalist, babe," William chuckled nonchalantly.
"Well then why isn't she asking you questions along with the other journalists over there?" you pointed to the station where players usually gave their post-game statements.
"She just came up to me and asked me if..." he trailed off, stopping himself before he dug himself deeper.
"Asking you what?" you raised an eyebrow.
"Nothing..." he tried to brush it off, but he knew it was futile.
"Well, if it's nothing, then why can't you tell me?" Your voice softened, tinged with vulnerability as you were reminded of other girls who were interested in your boyfriend.
And letting out a deep sigh, William knew honesty was the best policy. "She asked if I wanted to grab a cup of coffee together..."
"Oh..." you paused for a moment. "And you said yes?"
"Well, yeah, I mean, it doesn't mean anything - she's just doing her job," he chuckled lightly.
"Right... her job... so that means she's also getting coffee with all the other players?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.
"Um... no, I don't think so... but that's because she was there when I did the commercial thing... and she's just... I don't know, catching up, I guess."
You tried your best not to let your frustration show, but William was already aware of your feelings.
"Hey, babe, it's not like she's making any moves - I mean, she's a journalist, she knows I have a girlfriend..." he flashed you a confident smile, and though you didn't trust the journalist's intentions, you trusted your boyfriend.
Just as you expected him to trust you despite other men hitting on you.
So, you let it go and simply let out a calm sigh. "Right, how about we go home then, and I'll remind you just how much I love this relationship," you smirked up at him, gently wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss.
"Mmm, I don't think I can say no to that," William chuckled, before bidding goodbye to the others and leaving.
You already started the foreplay in the car, teasing his thigh higher and higher until you were close to his groin. Then, in the lift, he couldn't resist, eagerly kissing you as he pressed you against the wall. So, when you entered the condo, you took charge, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket, flashing him a lustful smirk as you pulled him towards the bedroom.
William didn't resist; he enjoyed your attempt at dominance. But as soon as you were both in nothing but underwear, he reclaimed his dominant role.
And of course, there was no other way for you to express your desire for your boyfriend than by kneeling in front of him in your fine underwear, opening your mouth as your eyes pleaded for him to feed you with his hard cock.
With you kneeling before him, eager to take him deep into your throat, William felt like he was in heaven. Your warm mouth worked wonders around his throbbing cock, and the small gagging sounds you made whenever he pushed a little too far only added to his pleasure.
You were his submissive, and your sole desire was to please him.
"Mmm, baby, you're so good," he hummed under his breath as you continued to bob your head, focused solely on breathing through your nose as you took him deeper and deeper. Occasionally, you glanced up at him through your lashes, watching as his muscles tensed under your hand, which you used for support while the other stroked his length where your mouth couldn't reach.
But as you pressed yourself further, your nose hitting the pubic hair of his crotch, and you gagged around him, saliva drooling from the corner of your mouth and trailing down your chin, William found it incredibly arousing. He held significant power over you, and the sight thrilled him.
However, as he felt his climax approaching, he knew he wasn't ready to finish just yet. So, instead, he withdrew himself from your wonderful mouth. 
"Such a good girl…" he praised softly, before gently guiding you to the bed. But as you moved towards the mattress, you signalled your desire to be on top, and William happily granted your wish.
After removing your underwear, he lay down on his back, and you couldn't help but smile as you straddled his hips. He was already dripping with precum, mixed with your saliva, and your arousal was evident, making it effortless for you to sink down onto his cock and let him fill you up.
"Oh yes, Willy," you moaned as his thick member stretched your entrance, stimulating your walls with every inch.
"Mmm, baby, you feel so good around me," he moaned in harmony, his hands instinctively gripping your hips.
And as your bodies connected, you began to sway your hips, rocking back and forth in sensual motions, your hands finding support on his chest. With each movement, allowing his hardness to glide in and out of your wet core, your moans grew louder. Pleasure rushed through your body, and you increased your pace, your breaths heavy and your mind consumed by sensation.
Then as the intensity grew, your bodies became sweatier and hotter, your vision blurring with each thrust. Addicted to the pleasure, you increased your speed once again, seeking that euphoric high.
"Mmm… shit, Willy," you moaned in a soft cry, your hips moving desperately as your thighs pressed against the man beneath you.
"Yes, älskling… you're such a good girl," William muttered. "Fucking ride me, baby… fucking cum on my dick…"
In the heat of the moment, his words worked like a magic spell, and with a forceful motion, you panted and gasped for air as you reached climax.
You even had to pause your movements, filling your lungs with air as you shut your eyes and cried out his name in pleasure. Your tight muscles pulsed around his shaft as you calmed from the high of your orgasm, your legs trembling from the intensity.
And as you slowly came down from the euphoric state, William sat up, gently pushing his cock a little deeper inside you as he grabbed your hair and pulled you in for a messy kiss.
"Hmm, fucking love it when you make yourself cum on me," he spoke huskily under his breath, and with a smirk adorning your sweaty face, you then started to slowly move your hips again, rocking gently as you kissed his bearded chin and neck, occasionally biting down with your teeth before pulling back.
The room was hot and steamy, and as he felt your cunt pulsating around his member, he felt the need for his own release stirring. So, taking a firm hold of your body, William then turned you both over and pushed your back into the mattress.
In one swift movement, he seized your hands and held them above your head as he began to thrust into you, while your legs instinctively wrapped around his lower body, heels pressing into his skin as you surrendered to his actions. His movements were powerful, yet this time, he attempted to maintain a sense of romance as you exchanged deep, passionate kisses.
Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, allowing him to thrust mercilessly and deeply, pushing you to the edge of overstimulation as he approached his climax. William's grip on your wrists was strong, and as he pounded even faster, you knew he was nearing completion.
"Oh, yes, Willy, cum for me…" you moaned loudly, gasping for breath as you became undone for him.
"Yeah... baby, I'm so close..." he breathed heavily in response. So, with a few more intense thrusts, William withdrew abruptly, knelt back, and ejaculated onto your lower stomach with a deep grunt. "God...," he moaned huskily as he reached a more intense climax than expected, his sticky white cum covering your skin like a canvas.
It was messy, yet incredibly arousing. Your body still trembled as you recovered from the intense sex, and your legs shook as you gradually regained strength. Meanwhile, William caught his breath, admiring his handiwork.
Your body was undeniably stunning, but what he admired most was how well he knew it and how effortlessly he could please you, eliciting loud moans and squirms with his touch.
And as the two of you gradually returned to reality, smiles graced your faces, unable to contain the sense of satisfaction. Additionally, William naturally assisted in tidying up the aftermath by leading you to the bathroom, where he tenderly and leisurely washed your bodies with lukewarm water cascading over the two of you, sharing deep kisses and reaffirming the connection that had united you from the outset. It was the bond that held you together through the peaks and valleys, through all the challenges you encountered as a couple.
As morning broke and William's alarm shattered your peaceful sleep, you couldn't help but smile as you turned to see his serene expression, while William, true to form, didn't immediately wake from the alarm; he was a dedicated snoozer. Yet, what always brought him to full consciousness was your kiss. You ran your fingers gently through his hair, planting soft kisses all over his handsome face until he slowly opened his eyes.
"God morgon, prinsessa," William murmured huskily, still half-asleep.
"God morgon, min prins," you smiled in return.
Despite the early hour, it was a cosy morning, with the passionate warmth from the night before still lingering between you. Any lingering traces of jealousy were overshadowed by the depth of your relationship, dispelling any intrusive negative thoughts.
As you exchanged lazy morning kisses, William's embrace tightened around you, drawing you closer to his body, the warmth emanating from him as you felt his morning hardness pressing against you. And with a smile of your own, you summoned the strength to position yourself on top of him.
William sat up straight, his bare chest pressed against your breasts as he drew you even nearer, deepening the kiss. However, you pulled back slightly, biting your lower lip before licking them seductively, trailing your fingers along his neck where you admired the faint marks from the night before.
Yet, not entirely satisfied with your handiwork, you returned your lips to his skin, your fingers tangling in his hair as he leaned back against the headboard. Despite the early hour, William could already feel himself responding to your touch, the anticipation of being apart from you again igniting a primal craving.
And his desperate groans only spurred you to bite down harder as you allowed your hips to gently grind against his lap. Your heart rate quickened, breaths becoming shallow, while William's body tensed, releasing a loud moan. Then pulling away from his flushed skin, you felt your cheeks flush with heat.
"Hmm," William muttered. "Leaving your mark, are you?" he chuckled mischievously, earning a light nod from you.
"Can't have you walking around without people knowing you have a girlfriend, can we?" you spoke seductively, your fingers delicately tracing the marks you skilfully created.
"And why's that?" William grinned, rhetorically acknowledging the possessiveness stirring within you, mirroring his own.
"Well, maybe there's going to be another journalist trying to grab coffee with you…" you playfully smiled.
"Hmm, yeah, we can't have that, can we," William chuckled, merely acknowledging the playful banter.
There was a brief moment of silence as you both admired each other in the soft morning light, knowing you would only be apart for the day, sharing a tender kiss.
"So," you spoke, pulling away with a pout on your lips, "Are you going to try and hide them?"
But William simply shook his head, a mischievous smile on his face as he gently rubbed his index finger across your lower lip. "No way," he said, his voice a low whisper. "I'm going to show them off."
It was a simple moment, yet it emphasised the possessiveness you both held for each other. Though you trusted each other implicitly, there were still lingering worries in the back of your minds.
You always harboured a nervousness that William might grow bored of you, drawn instead to the other incredibly beautiful women who seemed to appear in his life. Meanwhile, William feared that you might tire of his lifestyle and one day simply decide to leave in pursuit of a more conventional life.
Yet, neither of you had any intentions of parting ways.
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riki-riks-chick · 17 hours
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hii!!! can i please request how each member would punish reader after wearing a short skirt? (spanking, face sitting, edging, ykwim!!)
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Heeseung:
He would pissed when he came to pick you up and you were wearing the shortest skirt you owned. He didn't say anything because he knew he couldn't make you change, but he'd be sure to "scold" you later on. He's watching how you react to male attention for the remainder of your time in public together and the more you feed into it, the more his blood boils. "You wanna act like a little fucking whore? Hm? I'll treat you how a whore should be treated."
He'd have you bent over his lap, ass up and your skirt lifted as he strikes your reddened skin after every degrading sentence, soothing his hand over your ass cheek afterwards just to smack it again. You're soaking through your panties, moaning and whimpering into your hand as he continues to talk down to you. He'd make you count as he spanks you, starting over every time you fuck up the numbers, and only stopping once you're crying and begging him to stop, coming completely untouched just from him hitting you.
Jay:
Jay had planned to meet you at a party, unable to have picked you up himself, but fuck did he regret it. You were in the shortest skirt you owned, hanging around all of his friends as they stared shamelessly at you. He was apoplectic. He immediately grabbed you by your wrists dragging you to the bathroom as he locked the door before forcing you onto your knees. "You wanna act like a fucking slut, showing your ass off to those dickheads?.. Huh? Is that what you want?"
He'd force his dick into your mouth, fucking your throat as a means of punishment. You're gagging and moaning around him, tears stinging in your eyes as he fucks into your mouth relentlessly. His hands find purchase against your scalp, tugging hard on your hair as he cums, making you swallow because "good sluts always swallow." After using you he'd leave you wet and horny for the remainder of the party, waiting until you get home to fucking ruin you.
Jake:
Jake loves when you wear short skirts, but not in front of his friends. His best friend had been staying with you guys for the week and day by day, your outfits got more and more revealing. Jake had reached his final straw when he came home to find you laying on the couch, ass up in your shortest skirt. The fact that his friend could've seen you like this at any given moment had him fuming. He immediately dragged you to your bed room, tossing you onto the bed. "Are you trying to piss me the fuck off? My friend stays with us and now you're acting like your cunt is free?.. You're mine and you need to get that through your head."
You'd feign ignorance at his words, only angering him further. Rather than arguing he decides to fuck some sense into you, slowing his hips whenever you grow near climax. He's enjoying watching you fall apart with the need to cum, and you're whining and moaning, begging him to do so. He spends over an hour edging you until you're crying out an apology and begging him to let you cum.
Sunghoon:
Sunghoon would let you wear your shortest skirt, knowing that you were going to be at a party with a bunch of other preying men. He knows how horny you get when you're drunk, so he waits, letting you whore yourself around, giggling with any guy who shows you attention. Once he's worked himself up enough, he drags you back to his car, driving you home.
"Did you have your fun? Acting like a goddamn slut?.. I'm surprised you didn't let anyone else fuck that pretty pussy of yours. It wouldn't have taken much effort with skimpy ass skirt you're wearing." He doesn't even let you talk once you're inside, he makes you sit on his face, his hands gripping your thighs as he sucks and licks at your clit. He's tugging you closer the more you squirm, wanting to pleasure you until it's unbearable. He continues lapping at your perforation no matter how many times you cum. He doesn't stop until you're crying and begging him to, and he still fucks you dumb afterwards.
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hotvintagepoll · 9 hours
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Propaganda
Madhubala (Mughal-e-Azam, Barsaat Ki Raat, Mr. & Mrs. '55)—The Venus of India; heart-throb of all who saw her; responsible for the sexual awakening of every single desi lesbian I know (including me!) And my god, she is breathtakingly beautiful. Look at the subtle grace with which she moves, and that smile - the kind of radiant smile that can make you laugh with sheer delight, or cry because of its hidden pain. Those wild curls! That Cupid's bow! The way she tilts back her head and smiles at you with mischief dancing in her eyes! She has a way of looking at the camera that makes you feel she's sharing a private joke just with you; it's something about that quizzical twist of the lips and eyebrows. As an actress, she is inimitable; she seems to effortlessly inhabit roles ranging from a heart-broken courtesan to a laughter-loving socialite. Fun fact : she's had quite the fan following in Greece! Stelios Kazantidis even wrote a song as a tribute to her.
Ingrid Bergman (Gaslight, Casablanca, Notorious)—Where do I even begin with Ingrid Bergman? I fell in love with her with her astounding performance in the 1956 version of Anastasia -- the best Anastasia movie in large part due to her wonderful and touching performance. She's got this amazing, fascinating intensity to her in whatever role she's in. She commits 100%, and she's got this light in whatever she's in that's stunning. She's utterly convincing no matter what she plays, from an amnesiac possible lost princess, from a nun, from a woman taking her revenge on the town that wronged her, to light romantic comedy. She's never missed in any role I've seen her in! Also she became quite the MILF.
This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Madhubala:
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An icon of Bollywood, who was well known for her beauty and has continued to inspire performances and songs into the 21st century. She was at times described as "the number one beauty of the Indian screen" and "the biggest star in the world".
SHE IS EVERYTHING AHHH. JUST LOOK AT HER SMILE-
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She's been nicknamed the Marilyn Monroe of India and was one of the highest paid actresses in the Hindi film industry (the term Bollywood did not exist yet) during the 1950s. Also an extremely talented dancer and singer
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SHE'S JUST SO STUNNING, like seeing her eyes IMMEDIATELY CAPTIVATES YOU, THE DANCING, THE BEAUTY!!!!!!!!! She worked in Bollywood for over 20 years and passed away at a sad early age of 36, BUT THE IMPACT SHE HAD WAS UNMATCHED!!!!!
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That sassy sideways glance she does always has me WEAK AT THE KNEES. And when she's making silly faces at the camera to mimic someone ahhhh my gay little heart <3
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Ingrid Bergman:
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God, she's fantastic. She's both beautiful and a compelling actor who's more than capable of putting the whole movie on her shoulders if necessary. It's worth noting that while her beauty is conventional, she was seen as refreshingly "natural" with more eyebrows and less makeup than many other leading ladies of the time. She's well known for her role in Casablanca, but in Notorious, Spellbound, (both available on archive.org ) and Gaslight (1944) she shows how immensely capable she is.
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I mean...she's Ingrid Bergman. I feel like that should be enough, you know? She's physically beautiful (her eyes!) but watching her is like a transcendent experience. Her voice, her expressions... beautiful woman, beautiful actor.
I'm a gay man but even I understand her appeal. I'll watch any movie she shows up in. Gorgeous woman.
Just try and watch her movies without sighing wistfully, then get back to me!
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Choosing 1-3 movies where Bergman was at her hottest was agony because, of course, she was always at her hottest. Not just because she was beautiful but because she was absolutely willing to go up against the bs women in Hollywood were constantly dealing with. When exiled from Hollywood for having an affair with Roberto Rossellini, not only did she refuse to apologize at any point, but she went on to say that Hollywood's films had grown stagnant and boring to her. Though she said she appreciated her time working there, she wanted to try new, different techniques (hence starring in Italian neorealist films, working on stage, and acting under directors like Ingmar Bergman). She was not afraid to chase after her artistic ideals and go outside the box regardless of what society had to say about it. From her first movie to her last she killed it. There's so much more to say about Bergman's career and life, but I've already written five million words so I'll stop at that.
ion words so I'll stop at that.
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One of the most incredible actors I've ever seen on film. Her facial expressions are so intricate and poignant that I cannot look away. I'm either ace or straight, but damn she made me question that.
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SEVEN TIME OSCAR NOMINEE QUEEN. Girl also PULLED, having affairs with famously hot men Gary Cooper and Gregory Peck IN ADDITION to her three marriages...sexy
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She has a very natural beauty to her, and she's from Sweden!
She left Hollywood and only became more beautiful. You could drown in her eyes. She can look innocent AND like she's seen it all. She is effortlessly elegant. She's played Joan of Arc (automatically hot) AND was in the movie that coined gaslight as a term. And where would we be without that!
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She was known for being a breath of fresh air on the movie scene at the time with her windswept hair, dreamy smile and soulful eyes. I have loved her in every movie I have seen her in - she was just magnetic!
Where do I even start. There's a neighborly quality to this beautiful, talented actress that makes her hotness one of a kind and her looks impossible to forget
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With a career spanning five decades, Bergman is often regarded as one of the most influential screen figures in cinematic history. Known for her naturally luminous beauty, Bergman spoke five languages – Swedish, English, German, Italian and French – and acted in each.
She's hot, don't get me wrong, but I've always found her very approachable, like she could easily be a member of my friend group
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A lot of the time hotness in a movie is just about words and framing. "You're the most beautiful person here" [vaseline lens] well I sure hope so because that's who you cast. But when, in Casablanca, they call Ingrid Bergman the most beautiful woman in the world... they were not fucking lying. And such a dynamite actor too!! I'd only seen Casablanca up until last year, and there she's confined to love interest. But in Gaslight she was maybe one of the most incredible actors I've ever seen!!!! Goddddd shes so fucking hot and cool.
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meichenxi · 3 days
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languages, travel, identity, grief
Maybe some of you have heard of Xu Zhimo's Second Farewell to Cambridge (徐志摩 再別康橋 Translation: Saying Goodbye to Cambridge Again, by Xu Zhimo | East Asia Student). It's an achingly lovely poem about a Chinese scholar who studied in the UK, and how he left so gently, taking nothing with him as he went. It brought me solace over the last year.
I thought for a very long time about how I felt about having to leave China, and what it felt like to mourn for a future that was never going to mine. I cried. How am I supposed to explain why? I'm not Chinese. I've got no family there, or a childhood to look back on. I couldn't explain it even to myself.
That pain was coupled with a type of uncertainty, a discomfort at myself for feeling so strongly. This feeling was not allowed. It meant - what? Something awful, probably. I was a racist, probably. I should hate myself, probably. Fetishization is the word that gets thrown around for white people and their time spent in East Asia at one end of the spectrum - at the other end it's just seen as embarrassing and deeply, you know, cringe. It's a self-interrogation - why do I feel so sad? Why do I feel this pull so strongly anyway, to a country that's not even mine? Why should it matter so much when I leave? I didn't feel like this grief has any sort of legitimacy. But it has taken from September - eight months after leaving - for me to pick up Chinese again.
I felt, for months, hollow and unsettled and drifting from place to place. I opened my textbook, and closed it again. The memories there were too painful. I'm not going to write about why I had to leave, but it wasn't by choice. I had loved the people in the school, even if it was for a short time. When you have no internet and are training eight hours a day, the days are coloured more sharply: bright and hurtful and wonderful all at once. We had no running water. It was in an abandoned hotel. I miss the monk at the temple door opposite the school, always on time at 6am to open it for our classes. I miss the folk at the local shop who invited me to watch films on their projector; once they killed a chicken for us. I miss the woman in the woods who gave me the chestnuts she had picked. I gave the chestnuts to the cook, and we steamed them and ate them by the lake. He wanted me to marry his son; he wanted it so strongly that he brought me pork, and desserts, and gave me paper, and promised me I could have a jade bracelet, that he would buy me a house. I miss the oldest martial arts teacher, who spoke in such strong dialect I could barely understand him. When I was sad and missing home one night, he told me that I should stay after dinner. In the silence and against the cicadas, he started to play the erhu for me. Later, my friend told me that he hadn't know what to say, how to comfort me; I was a foreigner and a young woman, after all. We had very little in common. But nobody has ever played a piece of music for me like that before.
And I miss X, my best friend there and partner in snack-smuggling crime. She is 19 years old, and a janitor's daughter, and one of the wisest people I have ever met. (She also rides an excellent motorbike, and lent me her hanfu, and we sped through the city giddy with our own daring and trying not to be caught.) We got matching haircuts; she had always wanted to cut her hair like a boy, and was too scared to do it alone. When I left, I told her to stay in touch: she shook her head. She said that some people were meant to know each other for some time, and no more. I think the death of friendship by attrition, by - as Elrond said! - the slow decay of time, is one of the saddest things of all. I deleted Wechat. I don't want to read over the old messages. By having this place - her, and the chestnuts, and the cicadas - as a memory, I can tuck it away it. I can keep it close.
I wrote a poem myself on the plane. That was the last I thought about China, the last thought I let myself have, in eight months. I kept myself away from it. It felt like a wound. And against that hollowness, there was constantly the question: Why should I have any right to miss this place? Who I am there? Why does it matter? We are all different people, wherever we go, and whoever we are with; we wear different skins, large or small. In China I was [...]. She was who I was. That name, that I introduced myself to people with - she was bright and friendly and tried to translate things just so. Everybody who goes as the only foreigner to a place - or the only foreigner that speaks the language - is a little bit self-obsessed. It happens. It's unfortunate, and something to guard against. But it also gives you its own kind of identity in a way: your identity is Foreigner. Your identity is a cultural bridge. Everyone you meet, in a country as friendly and curious as China, has questions about you. You stand with your feet in both worlds, and are not really part of either of them. That identity is easy to slip into, like cool water, like trying on new clothes. It's easier that thinking: who am I outside of that? Where am I going? I don't really know. I don't think anyone really does.
And then the second thing happens. I speak Chinese well, by this point. My accent is there, but it's slight. I am short, and have dark hair, and a generally similar build to many East Asians - so the questions I have got in the last few years have changed. Sometimes people think I have been raised here. Sometimes they think I am ethnically Russian, and nationally Chinese. Sometimes I get asked if I am half Chinese. Usually they know I am a Foreigner, 100% white - but not always. There is a peculiar rush that comes from that acceptance; from feeling the relief, just for fifteen minutes, that you belong. It's not about 'passing', or race-bending, or anything twisted - it's nothing so unnerving as that. It's just the human need to belong. Everyone gets tired of being stared at, after a while. And after a while, you start to think - I wish I understood. I wish they understood. I wish this were easy.
But then the conversation keeps going. You don't know a local word, or you misunderstand. You say something in a strange way, or you make a strange gesture, and the glass shatters, and - there you are again, naked again, exhausted again, explaining yourself again. That's the other half of it. There's solace in the Foreigner identity, because that means that's all you are. You don't have to think about your parents, or whether they worry about you so far from home; of course they do. The Foreigner is good and filial and a wonderful daughter. You can craft her into any shape you like. But it also marks you out again and again, endlessly and again, as Other.
There was a paper published a while ago that showed measures of acceptance of non-natives in native-speaking communities. It highlights a strange, but familiar experience to those who have lived abroad - the people who spoke the language to a medium level felt more accepted and less lonely than those that spoke the language to a high degree. It makes sense, and mirrors what I have found with both Chinese and German. When you speak a little Chinese, you are a wonder - a curiousity! Look at the Western girl go! People are kind, and curious, and will slow down to include you in conversations. You are thrilled with what you can access - all this knowledge, that other people don't have! Look how special you are!
And then you get better. And then you realise, cut by cut, that you will never be one of them. You don't want to be Chinese, per se; but you do want to be accepted. You are happy to be British; but you miss China like a wound, an old one, festering, even when it was never yours. How do you tell your family that you are not grieving a lost romance, a beautiful girl, but a language and a life? That there are words of majesty, of playfulness, that will never be yours? You speak well enough that people no longer bother to dumb things down, or explain them; you sit with your discomfort, smile painted on, because - you know. It's not bad. You understand most of it. And on the edge of that circle, smiling uncertainly, following the vast majority of what is being said, you are not clever enough and not witty enough to keep up with the chengyu, the cultural references, the slang, and the raucous laughter around you erupts, and you don't know what you've missed, and everybody says - she's quiet, that one. Maybe all the foreigners are? And all you are doing is sitting and feeling the distance between You and Them as heavy and as stifled in your chest as an ocean of dark.
So you go back. Back to your people. But when you sit with the other foreigners, you are apart. They laugh; what are these nutters doing? The Chinese don't make any sense. The Chinese do this - they do that. You sit there, and then there is a pressure building in your chest too, a discomfort, the desire to stand up and say - well, actually.
You are responsible for everything the Chinese teachers do, and have to explain things in a way that the students understand - Confucian thought, and Buddhist philosophy, translated in pithy bite-size adages for the West. You have no qualifications for this; everything you assert, you feel unsure. Uncertain. Someone else could explain it better, more nuanced, and you need to do more reading anyway - but here you are, and here they are, and you're the only one. And you do know. Not enough, but enough that their jokes, their pains, make you uncomfortable. You feel the need to defend both parties; to be a diplomat, every second of every day. In turn, when the students come to the teachers with problems, you have to translate their grievances in a way that the Chinese teachers will be sympathetic towards. Once I got asked: why do you never join us after class? Why are you always so quiet when you're not working? As a translator, you are always working. Every time you speak, you are working; what you choose to say, and what you choose to not say, and where you choose to intervene. You are building relationships, and disappearing, and you are becoming invisible, and you're a nothing, and you're everyone and you're nobody and nobody realises you are doing anything more than translating at all.
I wanted to stay. I couldn't have stayed. I wanted to be accepted as one of them. I wanted to be accepted for who I was. That means a foreigner. I wanted to be true to myself, which means that I would always be the Foreigner, which means I would always be apart from them. It is that contrast and juxtaposition which causes the grief. And there was never an ending to it, a resolution, a chance to reconcile myself (in China) with myself (in the UK), because all at once I had to leave. The grief comes most from the second arrow - not the pain of leaving, but the bewilderment of not knowing why I was in pain at all.
It's been eight months. Slowly, as spring comes, I feel like I am on surer ground. I can look at my old books, those painstaking notes, and I could look at new ones too and I'm starting to think, because this is what I tell my students, and maybe there's some truth in it - it's okay if you're not perfect. It's okay if you didn't achieve what you wanted to, and that the language - in its wholeness, and who can ever know that? - will never, not quite, be yours. It's the struggle and the process that means that I will know and understand Chinese in a different way, in my own way, in a slanted-to-reality sort of way, that is a treasure in and of itself. There is beauty in its brokenness too.
And there is sorrow, too. The sorrow that comes with easing yourself into a different life, and it holding you gently for a while. I sat there - I spoke to them. It's not only missing a place; it's missing a person you were, a stage of your life, for a time. It's knowing that a place has reached inside your ribs and taken root there - even if you don't return, you can never fully get rid of that again. You are two people now, with feet straddling two oceans. There are parts of you that loved and suffered and hated and grew in Chinese, not English. You can't explain that. You can't even begin. Sometimes - not often - you are a stranger in your own land. The poets spoke of that. In the age of fast travel, of the weekend break, we have forgotten the ways a place can burrow itself inside you, and find its own home.
It's not the same as the grief that someone Chinese will face. But it's still grief. I have put my life into Chinese. Maybe that is all it takes to grow love.
Now, I turn back to Chinese - as a foreigner, as Melissa, as myself. It's a bittersweet thing. I know that I cannot hold all of it. It will spill out, like the sun, and there is no way I can be that without losing myself and my history and my own green woods. But I think I am ready now. I am surer, and a little steadier on my feet.
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wosoluver · 1 day
Text
Not good at saying goodbyes.
Part 3/? - previous - next
Lena x childhood bestfriend!reader
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Today you got ready like any other day. Had breakfast, got into the car and drove to work.
What you weren't expecting, walking
in was to see Lena's mother there.
When she saw you, her eyes were full of sparkles.
"Y/N! I can't believe this! You're all grown up!" quickly giving you a tight hug you had missed very much. "You're so beautiful. You look just like your mom. How is she? How are you?"
"I'm good, she's doing well, she's planning on retiring and moving back here."
"It's so good to see you. Can't believe Lena didn't tell me you were here."
"I can."
And she quickly looked for her daughter, who had opted for walking away, minutes prior.
"You meant no harm. I know it, sweetheart. And now that you're here, she'll come to terms eventually.
She still celebrated your birthday every year. And hung up your Christmas stocking, oh and she still hasn't watched that movie you had made plans to see together."
"I kept a full diary of the first two years after I moved, so she could catch up, when we were reunited. And watched as many of her games as I could fit in my schedule. Also, I kept the big bear she won me, at the fair we would aways go to."
"Everything is going to end up in the right place. I'm leaving, but just in case, let me give you my number."
"Thanks, it's so good seeing you again."
"You two honey, you have no idea. Have a good day at training, and if you see my daughter, let her know I went home and that I don't appreciate her walking away."
"Of course."
She was just like you remembered. And for a second it made you feel like you went back in time, when you'd aways pass on her messages to Lena when she tried running away from trouble.
You made your way to the locker room but most girls were already at the gym.
"Obi, your-"
"Lena." - she harshly said.
"Everyone around here calls you Obi, I'm the one who came up with it!"
"Well you lost the right to it, when you betrayed me!"
"I didn't betray you! I was a kid! Who didn't know what she was doing!"
"You hurt me!"
"I was hurting too! And I thought the best way to protect you, was not saying goodbye."
"Now it doesn't matter why you did it! I can't go back in time, and tell the younger version of myself that! I can't tell her that everything was just a misunderstanding. I can't unbreak her heart!"
"If I could go back in time and change everything, I would. I swear. And I'm sorry that's all I can give you."
"Yeah."
What was that even supposed to mean? 'Yeah'?
In truth Lena didn't know either. She didn't know what say. She only knew how she felt and that was, confused.
"As I was going to say in the first place, your mom went home and you are in trouble."
"For what?"
"Leaving while we were talking."
"She can't be serious! You did it first! And I'm the one in the wrong?"
You only gave her a sad look as she walked out of the room. It was like you were eight again, and getting in trouble for doing whatever the other was doing.
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You tried your best giving her some space after that. After all you had nothing else to say to each other. She had bursted out her feelings and you had apologized. And you had been trying to accept the reality. You were far from doing good, but you decided to put her feelings first. Being respectful, to her wish to not be in touch with you.
"Hey Y/N! We're going out tonight, please come with us." - Said Georgia.
"Sorry, I can't. I have some plans I can't bail on."
"No you don't!" - said Giulia. "Stop saying that just so we leave you off the hook, for not showing up at our get togethers."
At this point Stanway had went her own way.
"You can't keep doing this. You're isolating yourself from the team. This has got to be affecting your mental health, the girls are worried."
"No they are not. They think I'm busy because of a relationship."
"Only Syd thinks that. And I know the truth. Please reconsider it?"
"Okay, I'll text you if I change my mind."
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You didn't. Of course you didn't. And that had been the last drop, for her and some of your teammates. After a long talk through the weekend, they had decided on keeping to themselves. To not make things worse.
But Giulia could not hold back when you walked into training, Monday morning, with deeper under-eye bags, and a emotionless look in your face.
You were tired. Tired of crying. Tired of isolating, and only talking to your parents, through a phone. Tired of blaming yourself constantly.
As you left to the field, they all shared a look. Even Lena. You seemed to be doing okay... until stoped pretending you were.
"Don't act surprised! Your the one doing this to her!"
She said looking Obi dead in the eye, and going after you.
"Y/N! Wait up. We can warm up together."
"Is that an excuse for another lecture?"
"No. But you can vent out if you want to."
"There's nothing much to say... Except that leaving Barça was probably a mistake."
"I'm sorry you feel that way."
"Thank you, for trying to include me the best you can, and for taking care of me. You're and the girls are great."
"I wish you gave yourself a chance, to be happy here."
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"Give her a chance!" - said Lea trying to get it through her friends mind. They had stayed back inside.
"She did worse to me!"
"You're taking this to far! She made a mistake and apologized. And I think not having her best friend for the last 15 years, was punishment enough."
"But-"
"No buts. What she did was wrong. But she was a kid and she thought she was doing the right thing.
You're an adult, and you know you are doing the wrong thing! It's not the same."
"What am I supposed to do?"
"Do you think your younger self would approve of this? Of anyone treating her this way? Because the Lena I know, would never treat someone like this. Especially someone she loves."
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"You still care a lot about her huh?"
"I love her and I don't think anything can change that. I promised myself to never leave her again."
"Just don't break your own heart, to keep that promise."
"I don't think a heart can be broken twice. But I'll try my best not to push everyone away."
"That's a good start. You need to feel better for the match this week. Frankfurt is a little harder to beat."
It felt good having someone to talk to again. And you knew you could only blame yourself for the loneliness you had been in. And she was right, you had to give yourself a chance, with or without Lena. Although that isn't how you ever planned your life to go.
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Next part out either today or tomorrow 🩷
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Winter's King 16
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: I didn't sleep very well but I'm here.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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As you move North, the sunlight fades sooner and rises later, the nights cooling with each mile. Nearly a fortnight on the road, and you return to the service of the queen. Bryce escorts you between the carts, gesturing in passing to his comrades, other times letting past another body on their own mission. You reach the front of the train where men with swords pace and keep watch over the surrounding lands. 
“Evenin’,” Bryce greets the guards outside the queen’s tent and they grumble back. The weariness of travel has overcome many of the travelers. 
You dip your head down and approach the tent flap. Before the card can pull it back for your entrance, it sweeps open from the other side. You step back as another figure falters before you. The king keeps hold of the silk and his eyes skim over you. He tilts his head and moves to hold the fabric open, beckoning you through with his large hand. 
“Your highness,” you murmur. 
His jaw squares but he says nothing. As you enter, the fabric falls heavily behind you. The king’s expression lingers in your mind, his silence even more. The tick in his cheek was hard to miss and you can hear his heavy footfalls as he stalks off. 
Within, the queen sits on a bench, playing with the tassel of her belt. Her father, Lord Dustan, stands to the side, arms crossed as he makes small steps back and forth. He tuts and chews his thumb. 
“Your husband does not behave as son-in-law,” the duke gripes lowly, “he would have let Debray fall to those vandals. He cares only for his frost lands.” 
“Father, he is only eager to be home. As much as I dread the cold, I cannot help but feel as such. I tire of this endless road,” Queen Jazlene yawns into a cupped hand. 
“Ah, but you must be a loyal wife. What of mine? What of your mother? She was alone in the castle.” 
“And you rode out to save her, didn’t you?” Jazlene prompts. 
“I am a lord of the summer lands, I am past my warring days,” Dustan snarls, “he would risk my flesh on an uprising he could crush with his left hand. He tests me!” The duke circles around as he jabs his finger in the air, “I deserve more dignity, more respect. I delivered him his kingdom.” 
“Yes, father, he is a frigid man,” Jazlene bemoans, “as icy a husband. He does neglect us both.” 
“Neglect?” Dustan faces his daughter, “does he not see to his contract?” 
She frowns and bats her doey eyes as she looks away, “it isn’t that he doesn’t fulfill his duty, it is only... how might I get an heir if I lie with my husband only once in a moon?” 
“Does he mean to deceive us? A son will bind us. A son is what we need. Does he think the summer lands will follow a king who does not sow his seed?” 
“I do not know, father. I... I have tried all I can think of.” 
“Mm,” the duke hums darkly, “that won’t do at all. Not at all. When I married your mother, she was swollen with you almost as soon as the vows were said. No, no, it won’t do. I will have word with the king, make certain he does not treat my daughter, his queen, so coolly.” 
Dustan stop and twiddles his fingers. You try to imagine him confronting King Geralt. Surely it is bluster for the sake of his daughter. 
“...we are ruined without an heir...” he mutters. 
Jazlene sits forward on the bench, “ruined, father? I am queen--” 
“Yes, yes, you are queen, but a queen has her duty too,” Dustan insists, “and it cannot be done with a negligent king. Leave it to me, daughter. The next I see the king, I shall handle our business. As I have ever done. Do you believe in me? For I did deliver you a fine marriage, didn’t I?” 
“Yes, father.” 
The duke goes to his daughter and rubs her shoulder. He leans in and you shrink against the tent wall, making yourself small. 
“Should it prove poor judgment,” his whisper scratches from his lips, “I will figure a way out.” 
He kisses her hair and turns to march out. He takes not notice of you though that is expected. Jazlene sighs as the flap falls and she leans back on her hands, swaying her leg. 
“Ah, the maid,” she cheeps, “you will fetch hot water for my feet. They ache.” 
“Yes, your highness.” 
She grins, a catlike expression and sits up straight, “yes, that is right. I am a queen and soon, the king will be certain to treat me as such.” 
You flit off to your duty. As you emerge, your chest stirs with unease. Something about their conversation has you unnerved. Though they said nothing outright, it feels as if there is more laced between the words. The queen and her father hardly sound as allies to the king. 
You try to wipe the apprehension from your mind. You are but a maid and not so well-versed on noble matters. It isn’t your place to unpiece their declarations or untangle their riddles. You are to get the water to sooth the daughter of Debray’s feet, it may yet save you a box to the ears. 
⚔️
You shiver as the cart bounces over the hard ground. You count a month or so since your departure from the capital though the days blend in a fog. The gradual creep of the chill has advanced upon the part, slowing the wheels, and sending the riders to pause and cover their horses. You keep the fur cloak over your lap as you lean into the corner of the cart though Bryce seems enlivened by the atmosphere. 
The dim sky harkens the crossing of the intangible barrier between the summer and winter lands. Sprawling plains and rounded feels give way to rocky passes and jutting mountains, interspersed with lumpy tundras speckled with patches of mud. Several times, your soldierly escort has had to help yank free the wheels from some rut or another. 
“Are we there?” You ask through as chatter, blowing into your hands. “The Hinterlands?” 
“Mm, by my guess, we are at the Fox’s Tail. You see, it is the little strip of land where no man lives, summer or winter,” he explains, reaching to scratch his beard. You envy the warmth it must give to his cheeks. “Isn’t so cold yet, mouse, better brace yerself.” 
You nod and look ahead at the grey, brown expanse. There are dustings of frost but not snow, only on the distant caps of rugged mountains that shadow the horizon. You hug yourself as Daisy’s breath plumes in misty clouds around her head. 
“Why does no one live here?” You ask. 
“There are no trees, no grass to feed the livestock or game,” he shrugs, “it is barren...” he sucks his teeth and thinks, “there was a war. Hundreds of years ago, maybe more. The summer folk spilled upon the winter lands, some squabble over a slain lord... they put salt to the earth. They did not only want vengeance on the living, they wanted their descendants to suffer for their misdeeds. Starve out an entire people.” 
He snorts and shakes his head, “what the summer people didn’t understand is that the winter skinned do not stay still. They move with the winds. You’ll see, mouse. You haven’t done the last of yer scurrying.” 
You huddle down as another cold breath sweeps through the air. You’re not used to it but you will be. That’s how it always is. You just have to take what you get and make it work. You can’t complain for what you have; a warm cloak, a cart, and a kind companion. 
⚔️
Your teeth chatter as you hold closed the front of the fur cloak, the hood over your head as you walk the frozen earth. More often than not, you’ve left the prized cape in your cart for your return. It is too heavy to wear while serving the queen but the weather permits you no mercy. It is far too bitter to forgo the extra layer. 
Bryce is unbothered in his mail and the simple fur trim the collar of his wool cloak. He only seems to thrive in the dipping temperatures, stoking a fire for your nocturnal return so that you may sleep in its warmth. His constancy keeps you from mourning the lost summer sunshine. 
He stands behind you as you cross to the queen’s tent, now raised with several layers to insulate the walls. You enter as you do every night, unnoticed as Queen Jazlene mindlessly stares into the pages of a book. She’s grown quiet these last weeks as the travel wears on her, even her wardrobe showing the effects. 
You feel a gust from beneath the tent wall and step away from it. You watch the queen, huddled beneath a blanket on a stool, shaking as she tries to warm her hands in each other. She wears several satin cloaks layered over each other but the fabric is too sleek to garner much heat. 
She puffs into her palms and groan.  
“Damn this cold,” she mutters, then sits up, “maid, tea!” She demands, “Something warm! Anything!” 
You utter a small “your highness” and spin away to your task. You step out into the cold and go off to find a fire and a pot. The queen has some berry tea in her chests.  
You acquire a cup of steaming water from a cluster of servants around a flame. You linger for a moment to absorb some of the fire’s haze then set back toward the royal tent. As you near, a shadow nearly collides with you. You keep the cup balanced as you scramble around the figure. The torch light catches the king’s golden eyes as they meet yours. 
“Your highness,” you murmur. 
He grunts as he stops fully. He stares down at you wordlessly. You cannot read his expression as shadows dance around his features, flickering various emotions across his face. He bows his head and presses on. You turn to watch him go as concern rolls up your throat. 
In those last weeks, months you believe, you’ve not seen much of the king. You’ve wondered after his elusivity. At first, you thought it might be due to the combat at Debray, perhaps he was disheartened by the last act of resistance. Then you surmised it might be evasion of his own wife. Alas, you could not guess and fathomed it was not your place to do so. 
This brief encounter further perplexes you. You can’t help but question if it is you. You recall the last day in the capital, the grit of his voice casting you out. Go. The memory ripples through you. 
You think much of yourself. It wouldn’t be anything to do with a paltry maid. You focus on the hot water in your hand and continue on to the queen’s tent. 
You enter and wrap the dried berries and leaves, steeping them in the steaming water. You hover over the cup, waiting for the water to deepen in hue and cool enough to drink. When you bring it to the queen, you feel her gaze upon you. 
“Your highness,” you hand her the cup. 
She hesitates to take it, only doing so after deep consideration. She holds the tea in one hand as her other tugs on your cloak. She makes an ugly noise. 
“And where did you find this, maid?” She sneers. “Hmm, I sit her in my summer garb and you wear a bear’s skin?” 
Your lips part and you raise your shoulders. You look at the tent wall and frown. You poke your hand outside the cloak and touch the soft fur.  
“Your highness,” you look down at the cloak then at her trembling grasp on the cup. “Would you like it? You look awfully cold.” 
“Yes, I want the damn cloak!” She yanks it hard, “I am the queen and you did not think to offer me a proper cloak? How stupid are you.” 
You bow your head and reach to unbuckle the cloak. When it is loose, you shrug it off and hand it over. You will find a spare blanket. There must be some left among the luggage. 
She shoves the cup at you and stands. She swings the cloak around her and hums as she pulls its snug around her figure. She sits again and rubs her chin against the fur. 
“Much better,” she says, “I’ve been suffering this damnable place for far too long.” 
She takes the tea back, spilling a drop on your hand. You back away, the liquid cooling and sending a new chill through you. You cover one hand with the other and clutch tightly, locking your jaw against the tremor that crawls up your spine. 
The queen slurps from the tea and makes a face. She sneers, “I want wine,” she pouts, “how long must I be deprived? Wine!” She snarls down at the cup, “but I must drink this bile. Oh, but the king bids it,” she raises her voice mockingly, “you must obey your husband.” She shakes her head and takes another gulp, “at least it is warm. At least--”  
She holds the cup away from her suddenly as her face twists. She drops it and recoils, panic washing over her. She keels forward, holding her skirts out of the way as she spews onto the rug spread over the hard ground. She wretches loudly, spasming with the horrid sounds snagging in her throat. 
The smell of her vomit permeates the tent. She stays bent over her lap as she pants. You come forward and offer her a handkerchief to wipe her mouth. She sits up and gulps tightly, her features drawn. She pats her lips. 
“Well, clean it up,” she turns her feet away from the puddle between them. “Stupid maid.” 
She pokes a sharp nail into your arm and you wince.  
“Your highness, are you unwell?” You ask, “shall I fetch a physician? Or some ginger?” 
“No, you stupid cow, I am not unwell,” she flicks her fingers at you before waving away the stench of her bile. She stands and walks away from it, her hand settling on her middle. She faces you and smiles broadly, “I am carrying the king’s son.” Her face darkens as she wrinkles her nose, “I told you, you twit, to clean that up. You best do so before I make you eat it.” 
You nod and bend your neck, “yes, your highness, I will fetch water.” 
“I don’t care, just do it,” she snaps and rubs her stomach. She lets out a shuddery groan and turns her back to you. You watch as she draws tight the cloak and sways with a trill, “I will be a true queen now. He cannot deny me any longer.” 
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jistagrams · 13 hours
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hiii
any thoughts on wonbin being a perv nerdy???
AHHHHHHHAJSJDHF
stop he would literally be the biggest fucking perv yk, would literally watch u from afar paying close attention to all the little details about you. would find ur insta page after stalking a mutual friend, texting his best friend sungchan "I found their insta I'm gonna cum my pants I swear" would also jerk off to ur photos.. :3
would literally like all your stories it doesn't matter what it's about, if it's about some stupid show ur watching or what ur eating he's gonna like that story in hopes u follow him back, which u do. soon sending a text to u saying "u like (fav show) too?" knowing damn well he's never seen a single episode.
after texting for a few weeks you decided to call him around 11pm, which was the worst time ever for him. why would u call him while he's in the middle of getting off to a picture you sent him? He would answer... Obviously he's a fucking freak, would try and hide his moans but it was too much to handle. "bin, what the hell are u doing" u ask after hearing slapping noises and quiet whines. "getting off, you?" he sighs out
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peachhcs · 9 hours
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soft launch → social media post
so high school au (emma grace x gabe perreault)
i like starting off the au’s with the soft launch of each other because it introduces everyone in a fun way + everyone’s dynamics with one another (i picture emma having a private instagram at first)
again keep requesting for this au, 700 celly, or will smith au!! :)
au masterlist
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gabeperreault44 first semester rewind ⏪ ⚡️
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ryan.leno_4 looking fresh as always gp | gabeperreault44 back at ya leno
aram_minnetian best semester so far 😈 | gabeperreault44 putting it in the books
user1 hold on who's the girl in the 3rd pic??
user2 DOES HE HAVE A GF??!!!
jacob_fowler24 so fresh gabo | gabeperreault44 best compliment coming from you
cuttergauthier_ wait i'm also confused who is the girl?? | user3 CUT KNOWS WHATS UP!
user4 if he has a gf i stg😭😭 we've already lost will to samy hughes
user5 guys maybe they're just friends???? let's be chill and be nice no matter what!!
user6 not seeing her tagged or in the comments yet..
_willsmith2 honored to have made the cut! | gabeperreault44 i'd always include you!
drewf2 sooooo hot gp 🥵 | gabeperreault44 i try i really try
user7 its the way neither of his friends have commented on the girl except cut they def all know 😭😭
_willvote mhmm great semester | gabeperreault44 so great
eamonpowell_ im also confused who is that girl?? hello?? | user7 PLSSS eamon is so funny lmao
jp_perreault44 great season so far gp! | gabeperreault44 thanks j
liliane_perreault so adorable aww i miss u gabo | gabeperreault44 miss u too lil
emmagcooper hey i'm really glad you included your halloween costume in this | gabeperreault44 thanks i took your advice :)
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emmagcooper some of my favorite things from first semester <3
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abbyhiggins I LOVE YOU EMMA MWAH MWAH    | emmagcooper I LOVE YOU ABBY!!!
tylercooper damn where's my feature???    | emmagcooper we have no pics    | tylercooper what do u mean yes we do??
ryan.leno_4 you're soft launching like no one on here knows who it is 🤨    | emmagcooper leave me alone ryan some people don't
drewf2 live love boston college!    | emmagcooper so true drew!!
baileyg11 aww so pretty em!!    | emmagcooper i miss u bailey :(
elliewilliams DO U HAVE A BF??    | emmagcooper 🤷‍♀️
jacob_fowler24 this is a funny little post    | emmagcooper is that a compliment?
aram_minnetian how did u take the 1st pic?    | emmagcooper like magic
_willvote wow i wonder who that person in the 4th pic is    | emmagcooper hmm i wonder
_willsmith2 my man made the gram!    | emmagcooper woot woot!
gabeperreault44 what a great semester :)    | emmagcooper i agree :))
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This is going to be a very rambling and venty post cause im tired and annoyed and honestly am just using this to vent my anger/hurt. there is going to be stuff that can maybe be seen as anti tommy/bucktommy (please dont tell me a ship name to put i dont care about if they do have an agreed upon ship name right now) so if you dont want that please just move on. i dont want to fight i just want to yell into the void on a stupid throw away account so i dont bring my negativity stew and come out on my main blog where i just want to enjoy my stuff and just keep happy energy. I dont normally post and try and just find someone who explains it better because im not great and getting what im saying across or understood the way i want, so please bear with me. With that said i will move on to what i want to say
Okay so i have been watching 9-1-1 for years and i love and adore it. Its characters and dynamics and i have always loved found family. Now i will admit that i started watching it thinking that Buck and Eddie were a couple and had a son so i was kinda watching for it. Do i think if i didn't start watching thinking that i would ship them still yes 100%. I have always loved their relationship and i have loved watching both Buck and Eddie grow and start to be happy while also having each others back even at the worst times. Sometimes if i think to hard about Eddie and start crying cause I'm very normal about this show and it characters. Now Eddie is my favorite character in the show and at least in my top five overall favorite characters. I love him and his development and i adore seeing how much he does to just do right by Chris even when he messes up you can tell how much he adores that boy and how badly he wants to give Chris the best life possible. I could write essays about Eddie Diaz trying to explain how much i love him and why and i think words would run out before i could finish making people understand. Buddie is my favorite ship (sometimes second depending on my mood. i would say sorry but Henren and Madney will always be amazing ships and sometimes i just cant stop think about them)(Sorry Bathena i love you too i swear i just cant decide if i wanna kiss athena or be adopted by bobby and athena:( Its confusing) and has been for quite awhile and is one of my overall favorites and its one of my comfort ships.
With that context when bi Buck happened i was so insanely happy and i wouldnt shut up about it. it made me sick. i was so happy for Buck and while i think a part of me will always be a little sad Eddie wasnt his first kiss with a guy i dont think either of them are ready for that. i also understand that it wouldnt make sense for how the story is going right now. Now i have nothing against bucktommy in the show. I have watched the kiss scene and sobbed to much to pretend like i hate them or even dislike them. However I genuinely dont care about Tommy. Hes kinda bland and i forget about him half the time and before they brought him back i completely forgot his name. in my mind he was the one that wasnt as much of an asshole to chim and hen as the other two assholes which wasnt saying a lot. Now I dont dislike tommy nor am i going to act like hes irredeemable because neither Chim nor Hen seem to think hes still that guy and while they dont seem super close they seem to get along so clearly, he's not like that anymore. I have nothing that makes me dislike him nor do I like him. He's just there. He's just the guy buck kissed. Thats all he means to me. I would give up his screen time for Ravi or May or Karen in a heartbeat. because i love them cause they mean something to me. I don't think i thought about the fact that people might actually like him especially not more than EDDIE.
This is where the context matters cause i am to my core a one ship per person girly. I might see a ship and people who like it and even think thats not a terrible ship but i will still only look at content for my ship for that person (ie. i ship Destiel (dont say anything bad about them ill cry<3) but i can see the way someone would also ship Dean and Benny or crowley or Cas and Crowley or Mick but i will ignore the ship and move on and look at more Dean and Cas). normally i will just ignore the ship and move on because im not who its for. If it gets annoying in my tag or anything like that ill block it or whoever is annoying me cause its not a them problem that i dont want to see it. When i start to have a problem is when multiple people arent tagging right for whatever reason or people who are being rude about the ship i like because of their ship. When I started seeing Bucktommy stuff more and more in the 9-1-1 tag i went to the buddie tag cause i dont want to see them. my problem is that when im reading on AO3 and click on a fic tagged Buddie where bucktommy get married. it was literally just hurting Eddie. There was stuff before like id be scrolling though the buddie tag here and see someone saying that Tommy is a better character then Eddie and saying that they hope bucktommy is endgame. Whatever block and move on. Just like always but then people who have shipped buddie for years who ive seen talk about them are suddenly saying that they like bucktommy better. People who started watching because of bucktommy saying they dont like Eddie. People are going to have different opinions but it still bugged me. and then i read that and i was just hurt because it was tagged happy ending and i cannot fathom ever thinking Eddie hurting and pining is a happy ending. So i started to get more annoyed and i hate when that happens especially with a show i love and a character i dont dislike so i tried to just move on but more and more people are taking about it then i saw someone saying that they wanted eddie to die so buck and tommy can have Chris.
I just hate that so many people are jumping on the bucktommy train and saying that they like it better than buddie something that is so good and sweet or saying that they like Tommy more than Eddie. I just dont get it cause Tommy is boring. like yeah we now some about him and he flies a helicopter but hes forgettable he could be a completely different person and next to nothing would have to change. We have seen Eddie at his worst and claw his way back up and hes finally letting himself be open and honest and soft. Eddie couldnt be replaced. Now im not saying Tommy can't be an interesting character but as he is right now?? He just isnt. Hes just as bland as every women (minus Taylor and Shannon) Buck and Eddie have dated and been hated on for no reason!!! Like i get that Tommy is a guy and we got canon Bi Buck and people are happy but those same people turn around and shit on Marisol from what ive seen(I could be wrong cause again i have done my best to avoid). Buddie fans arent safe from that either, cause we all know that Buddie fans do that but so many of those people who hated on them and said they didnt want them with anyone else suddenly decided that they were okay if Buck ended up with any guy. I dont know its just weird and i hate how many people are acting like Eddie isnt always going to be better then Tommy. Part of me wanted Tommy to stick around and help Buck and Eddie figure it all out but now?? i honestly just cant wait for him to be gone cause I want to have fun and read fics for my comfort ship and just chill where i can see all of my ships in the show without buck and tommy being everywhere or people saying crap about Eddie.
I have more to say but most of its about how gratifying waiting and seeing where this whole thing goes(Buddie season 8 PLEASE!!) and this is already why to long and i think im just going in circles and none of this makes sense so ima shut up for now and hopefully this will help it not fester and drive me insane and become a tommy hater
Edit: but i also hate that Tommy calls Buck Evan so he already had some stuff against him rip
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starzgaze · 12 hours
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LOVESICK POTENTIAL: sung jinwoo
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pairing: yandere!sjw/reader
UNFINISHED incoherent drabble brainrot on yandere!sjw hahaha... this is so unfinished but it fried my brain so badly all i can do is draw this out later because i cant write for long periods of time 😒 also english isn't my first language so this is really ERRR not good also no proofreading we die raw
tw: froth and nothing much
BEFORE THE DUNGEON EVENT:
This era of jinwoo was so cute he looked so squishy I'm biting my bedsheets. This time is the perfect moment where jinwoo gets his reasons on why he's a little cuckoo over [y.name].
Jinwoo always came home covered in bruises and maybe with a dent in his mental health. I mean not only you face life threatening monsters but you also face the words of your fellow hunters that consists of demeaning and degrading your whole existence does horriblewonders to Jinwoo's mental health! After when his mother came out of the picture by falling ill to the Eternal Slumber, Jinwoo had to face the expectations on becoming the breadwinner and help to keep his family a float.
Jinwoo doesn't have ambitions or anything during this time, not when he's too focused on trying to feed Jinah and pay the bills. He's a blank pitiful slate who's being driven by desperation and the promise he made to his mother to take care of his sister. He doesn't have anyone to turn to and he can't tell what he's experiencing to his sister because that'll make her worry for him! Jinwoo doesn't want his sister to flunk her studies because he made her worry for him... so he's basically alone.
Until you come in to the picture. [y.name] one of the few people who saw him as a person instead of some weak pitiful excuse of a hunter. It doesn't really matter how you meet Jinwoo, whether it be through connections, after a dungeon raid, or you randomly meeting him on the street, what matters is how you perceive him as a person and how you turn his miserable world upside down.
When [y.name] entered his life, it felt like a ball of light entered his dim world but not as if [y.name] was extremely energetic or what not. It was more like that [y.name] ignited something within Jinwoo. [y.name] would stop by and talk to Jinwoo, solidifying his self as a person. They would talk about ideals and goals and even encourage Jinwoo to maybe create his own when they found out that he didn't had any of his own. Jinwoo felt so warm inside whenever he'd spent time with [y.name]. He felt so inexplicably happy.
Jinwoo decided that [y.name] is his goal and the driving force of his ambitions.
Jinwoo limped a bit as he walked towards his small apartment he shared with his sister. It was what remained when his mother was sent to the hospital for falling ill. He groaned silently as he clenched his arm that was throbbing in pain. Even after being recently healed by Joohee, he could still feel the pain of his arm being battered to smithereens.
He wondered how many dungeon raids left till he'll perish by the hands of some low ranking monster.
The young man approached his door before suddenly being called out by a familiar voice. Jinwoo turned around and his bleak mood was changed into a more joyful one.
"Jinwoo! I caught 'ya this time!" [y.name] giggled as they skipped over to Jinwoo, a small mischievous smile plastered on their features. Jinwoo chuckled at [y.name]'s words as he admired [y.name]. He wondered what did he do in his life to meet [y.name]
Jinwoo hoped that the next dungeon raid isn't the one where he'll perish by the hands of a monster.
AFTER THE DUNGEON EVENT:
Jinwoo would probably avoid contacting [y.name]. After realizing he has a new opportunity to get stronger. His mental health before wasn't the best, he often thought he was pulling [y.name] back and has this mindset that he didn't deserve any of the kindness he was receiving from anyone especially from [y.name]
But now? he has now the chance to pay them all back by becoming stronger and become someone they can all rely on. So randomly... he'll just disappear from [y.name]'s life randomly. Jinwoo feels horrible but he isn't ready to face [y.name] again but he promises to himself that he'll meet his darling[y.name] soon.
Jinwoo would admire [y.name] from afar and sometimes do this just for the sake of answering to his personal question of: "I wonder how are they doing now?". Jinwoo is aware how much it hurts to [y.name] that he randomly disappeared from their life without a word especially how worried they were for him.
When Jinwoo finally deems he's prepared and worthy enough to face [y.name] he almost forgotten how different he looked when he last met [y.name]. Jinwoo almost scared [y.name] away when a devilishly handsome tall young man approached them with a bouquet of flowers in hand. Thankfully, [y.name] recognized the man from the slightly meek demeanor he showed.
Maybe after a few more meetups and catch ups, [y.name] would notice the many changes on Jinwoo's overall.. being? like aside from the fact he's now built like a sculpture made by the gods, he's more confident and charming?.. Jinwoo of course didn't miss the way how [y.name] would quiet down and stare at Jinwoo, taking note every little different detail on Jinwoo. This fed the hunter's ego and was proud how his hardwork paid off.
While [y.name] was admiring Jinwoo, they didn't notice how Jinwoo added a few of his shadows into [y.name]'s shadow. His love for [y.name] during their absence has doubled a thousand fold and the lengths he'd go for [y.name] is now boundless. Jinwoo's goal of achieving [y.name] might not be impossible anymore if he pushed himself a bit more just like what [y.name] says.
After meeting up with Jinwoo, [y.name] bid the hunter goodbye as they exited the cafe. [y.name] was pleasantly joyful that Jinwoo didn't forgotten about them and met up with them again after a few years but this still didn't made [y.name] pissed off over the fact he basically ghosted them for a few years too!
[y.name] walked down the cold street that was dimly lit up by the lamp posts around the area. They shivered a bit as they tried to warm up their hands by shoving one of them in their trenchcoat's pocket. [y.name] was on their phone when they suddenly bumped into a man by accident.
"ow.. oh? I'm sorry I didn't notice you there I'm really sorr—" [y.name] stammered out as they bowed their head in apology but then they felt a hand pushing them hard enough to be stumble back into a lamp pole, hitting their back pretty hard. The man reached out to [y.name]'s trenchcoat's pocket and pulling out their purse then he ran away with their purse in hand.
"agh! what the- my purse?!" [y.name] yelled as they rubbed their back to ease the throbbing pain as they tried to run after the robber.
Unfortunately for [y.name] he was fast on his feet and after for a while they lost him. [y.name] panted as they decided to not give up yet and looked around the now lightless and eerie street, it seems like the robber ran into a more abandoned side of the city.
[y.name] roamed around the street and would peak occasionally inside of alleyways hoping to catch the man but much to their dismay, they haven't seen any glimpses or hints. They mindlessly walked around, slowly losing hope until they heard a quick shriek then a hard thump from a nearby alleyway. A cold sweat went down their neck as they froze in place... Did something happen?
[y.name]'s eyes narrowed down on the alleyway where they assumed the sound originated from. They contemplated for a bit whether they should check it out before they decided to see what it was, clinging on the possibility it might be their purse. [y.name] slowly peeked their head in the alleyway and immediately gasped at the sight.
The man who stole their purse on floor, wriggling in pain before a dark figure. Froth was coming out of his mouth as dark inky shadows circled around his throat. His ankles looked twisted but in a very unnatural degree that it looked grotesque.[y.name]'s eyes shakily looked at the soon to be a corpse then up to the figure who was holding their purse. They blinked blankly at the figure.. [y.name] recognized him?!
"Jin..woo?..." [y.name] murmured underneath their breath as the figure looked up to see [y.name] who was pretty shaken up. The light finally hits the figure's and it revealed it was indeed Jinwoo... but he had this soulless glint in his eyes that suddenly brighten up at the sight of [y.name]
"ah. [y.name]" He called out as he walked past the struggling man and approached [y.name] who took a step back away from Jinwoo. This made his heart wrench.
"don't. don't move away. it's dangerous at this time, you shouldn't be alone" Jinwoo continued as he was finally in front of a terrified [y.name]
"you shouldve accepted my offer walking you home"
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theladykassia · 2 days
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Blurb: Sam makes your latte and accidentally confesses
Content: no triggers, just fluff. This idea came to me as I added an obscene amount of mini marshmallows to my own coffee.
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Sam Monroe was working at a coffee shop during summer to earn some extra cash for a concert he wants to go. You guys aren't exactly friends but you always smile his way whenever the opportunity presents itself. You also made it a habit to go to said cafe because 'they make the best latte there', but honestly? You just want to see your favorite emo boy. You didn't even know the place existed before a friend of yours mentioned seeing Sam.
They had joked about the way Sam seemed angry at having to treat people nicely there. Or maybe it was the fact that he had to wear an apron.
You had to see it for yourself, so you went one day. And then the next... And then the next. Soon enough it became your favorite place.
It doesn't matter how hard Sam tries to give off this 'I don't give a fuck about you or anything else' vibe, the truth is that he's a total sweetheart— well, once you dig deep enough at least. The more you spoke to him, the more you learned about him. Even when he acts annoyed at how bubbly you're being, your sweet, innocent smile, is enough to warm his whole chest, you're just that cute! He's not used to people being so nice to him all the time, and you're always trying to talk to him. Complimenting him on his fashion choices or trying to talk about your few shared interests.
Sam would notice every little detail about you, and how could he not? You went almost daily to the coffee shop. He quickly learns exactly how to make your latte. The temperature, how strong it was, how much sugar to add.
It doesn't take too long for the poor guy to develop a crush on you. But this is Sam Monroe, talking about his feelings and being vulnerable isn't his strongest suit.
He ends up learning how to make some simple latte art, a skill he doesn't particularly use often. But it's the reason why you found out that the guy was crushing on you.
This particular day you were in a hurry, so you make your order and request that is served in a disposable cup and not a mug. Sam made sure to heat up the milk to the exact temperature you like. The only difference is that this time, he made a heart with the foam and slapped a cap on it almost instantly, giving the cup to you with an uninterested look.
“Here. It's hot so don't be stupid and drink slowly. Already put the sugar in it.”
You smile sweetly, rolling your eyes with humor as you put a few dollars in the tip jar. “Thank you, Sam. You make the best coffee here, y'know? I'm gonna miss you when you quit.”
The comment makes him want to smile, but he shrugs instead. Sam bites his lip to prevent the smirk that was about to happen from forming.
“Whatever, that's what I get paid to do... It's not like it took any real effort to make it,” he says with a tone that suggested he was bored. But that's the thing, he did put his best effort into it. "And you'll be fine.”
You smile again, not being bothered by his bratty tone. You know it's nothing against you, that Sam always did that to people. You figured it was just the way he was, or that it was some sort of defense mechanism. You also heard him when he said he already added the sugar, but you always like to see how foamy your latte is, so imagine your surprise when you remove the cap and find the shape of a heart, it obviously wasn't an accident. Your eyes met with a very flustered and blushy version of Sam.
“W-why the hell did you do that! I told you it had sugar already, damn!” he complains, furiously wiping the countertop that was pretty much squeaky clean before he began 'cleaning it'. You had never seen Sam so red and embarrassed before. It was adorable, and it was making you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
You giggle, what else were you supposed to do? At this point you forgot how late you were to your own job. You wanted to take a picture of the coffee, but you didn't want to torture him any more.
“But... But it's so pretty, Sammy!” you praise, biting your lip shyly. “I really like it.”
The mix of you praising him, biting your lip and then giving him a nickname made Sam groan, his face getting even redder than before.
“W-whatever, it doesn't mean anything.” He grumbles, briefly looking at you. “... Unless you want it to mean something.” he adds, not being able to stop himself. Sam cringes at his own words, afraid that he only made a fool of himself. Not to be dramatic, but he felt like he could quit just because of this. “Well?”
You were not used to making bold moves like this, but you reach over the countertop for the marker he had on his apron. Sam frowned at the action, but kept watching you with curiosity.
Taking one of the flyers they had at the counter, you wrote your number on the back and handed both things to Sam.
“I'm a simple girl, I'm fine with watching a movie and grabbing some burgers afterwards” you give him one last smile before leaving the cafe. He had no excuses, you gave him your number and a first date idea. You even took the pressure of planning out the whole thing off of him. Now all you had to do was wait, and you had a feeling that he would be reaching out to you soon.
You smile big, looking down at the heart in your cup. You had a really good feeling about this, you just hope you're right.
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