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ceesimz · 10 days

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The Mountain Is You

Part 2 of 'Our Sun Is Setting'

Barcelona. Once a place that felt like home to you, yet now as you clamber into the back of your taxi outside of the airport, it's the same but different.

Same sun, different warmth. Same air, different atmosphere. Same airport, different kind of departure.

Same person tying you down to this city, different dynamic.

If you thought a lot could change in two days, you had no idea what could happen in eighteen months. Turns out, a lot could change too, but thankfully for the sake of your sanity, the mental blows were not so big and not so frequent this time around. You doubt you would be in this situation now, back in the city you love, if it wasn't for your grandparents. They welcomed you with open arms and endless amounts of baked goods as soon as they caught wind of you coming home.

For the first month you stayed with them, most of that time was spent in the spare bedroom they made up for you, not quite holding the confidence or will power to do much else other than feel sorry for yourself. Some days you would walk their dog with them, other days you wouldn't leave the room. Some days you would do as many chores possible for them as a thank you, other days your Grandmother would sit beside you up against the headboard whilst you lay beside her as she read her book out loud, one hand gently running through your hair as she went. Some days you'd all laugh about shared memories of your Mother, other days you'd cry into each other's arms.

Something clicked inside you along the way though. One day you just woke up with a certain determination, and the look on your Grandfather's face as you wandered into the kitchen at 7am was enough to force a few giggles out of you before ushering him to join you on an early morning walk. That was when you voiced your new thoughts to him.

"I think I'm going to start applying for jobs again soon. You know, get out of your hair a little bit." You said to him, smiling when he tutted and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

"Don't be ridiculous. We're happier than we have been in a while now that you're with us, sunshine." He replied honestly, hugging you into his side.

"I know. I'm happy too, but I do want a job. What job, I'm not sure yet, but I'm going to start looking."

"You don't have to pressure yourself though, okay? If you change your mind at any point, that's perfectly fine. Just do it at your own pace. If you would like, you could print off your CV for me and Granny to hand in to places."

"That's fine, Grandad, you don't have to." You laughed lightly at his suggestion, bringing your hand up to cover his that rested on your shoulder. "Everything is online nowadays."

"Of course. That rules me and Gran out the question then, in terms of advice." He grumbled jokingly, though his classic, cheeky smile rests on his face. "Absolutely no help for you there, sweetheart."

"I didn't think there would be any anyway. I've seen Grandma use the microwave." The pair of you laugh at that, before it falls silent as you walk along the cliff-top coastline. The tone of the conversation shifts a bit when you speak again. "I think I'm also going to start seeing a therapist. You know, for everything that's happened."

"Okay, love. Whatever is best for you." And that's all the reassurance you needed.

The job hunt would forever be an aspect of life you despised. But, two months later, you had secured a job within the local area that you chose to walk to most days, a piece of advice from your new therapist that at first you hated but soon it was your favourite part of your daily routine. Apart from when it rained, obviously.

Things were going well though, surprisingly well, and it set in one evening as you sat in the back garden, watching your grandparents gardening, that the choice you made a few months prior was the right one.

You had managed to keep a certain Spaniard out of your mind for most of the time after that first month of being away from her, until one night you got a notification on your phone.

Spain win the FIFA World Cup after a 1-0 victory against England!

What was the right move now? Text her to congratulate her? Or is no contact best for the time being? Would texting her give her false hope? This was arguably the biggest achievement of her career, her whole life, but as a figure of the past, was it right to dredge everything back up again at such a joyful time?

Your hands faltered over your still cracked phone screen, unsure what to do in such an unusual situation. There was no handbook on what to do if your ex-girlfriend, who you're still in love with and who (hopefully) still loves you too, wins the biggest trophy of her career, nor could a google search be any assistance. And unfortunately, as perfect as they are, your grandparents that had been married for over fifty years now may not be any help either.

So, the only decision you could land on, no matter how much you didn't like it, was to leave it.

Until your finger slipped and liked her celebratory Instagram post later that night. You still followed each other on social media, too reluctant to get rid of that remaining bridge, but your Instagram had lain dormant ever since you had left. That meant you had some insight into Alexia's life post-breakup, guiltily indulging in a late night scroll every now and then which you found yourself in now, whilst she had no idea what you were up to or even if you were alive.

Well, at least she knew you were still here and you still cared for her. Could that be shown in one single social media interaction? You hoped so. Maybe that was a tad bit dramatic though. What else were you supposed to do?

You had the same reaction a year later as you watched Alexia captain her team to an unfortunate loss in the Olympics final. However, it was still a silver Olympic medal, and not many athletes could say they have one of those. A congratulatory text from you may have seemed like the start of a pity party though, so once again you opted out of it. Time and place and all that.

A year on and you were in a much better place, there were no two ways about it. Therapy was difficult, of course it was, but people were right when they say it's one of the best things to do for yourself. You don't think you'd ever been better. Subsequently, that led to an inevitable topic to come into discussion during one session.

"What do you think the... repercussions would be if I... went back to Barcelona?" You asked nervously, looking down at your hands as they fidgeted in your lap.

"It depends what you went to get out of it. Would you go for the city itself? Or for her?"

For some reason, in your sessions, your therapist hardly ever named Alexia. It was always 'her' or 'she', never her name. You figured it was so that you never shied away from the subject which was probably close to being the hardest to talk about, but you were too afraid to ask.

"Both." You answered initially. Your therapist stayed quiet of course, waiting for you to answer truthfully, something she again always did. "Her. Mostly."

"Do you think you're in the headspace for it? You've made so much progress since we first started, so you need to think if it'll aid the healing process or cause a regression."

"Well, she wasn't the problem in the first place. Everything she did for me was perfect, it was the relationship as a whole rather than her specifically. She was... she was perfect." You smiled sadly as you reminisced on your time with her. She really was perfect. "But I was the problem, I think. I was the one suppressing so much stuff and... when I was on my own compared to when I was with her, I was two completely different people. It was like light and day. She had a great effect on me, but I guess it's just figuring out if that was healthy or not. That difference in characters, in mindset."

"See? You've learnt so much from this already. Maybe you should just sit in front of a mirror and talk to yourself, you'd save a lot of money." Your therapist jokes, the pair of you laughing lightly. "So, let's get talking then. Let's figure this out."

And you did. You spent the rest of the session discussing whether it would be suitable for you to go back to Barcelona. The conclusion you came to was a very favourable one, one that made you nervously excited. But what would Alexia be like? Had she moved on? Would she still value you the same? Or would you be old news now? Only time could tell.

The only thing you knew was that it is so much darker after a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone, and that was the case with Alexia. Perhaps your life wouldn't have been so flipped upside down if you hadn't had met her; such a sweet and loving soul, the purest and brighest light shining onto every dark crevice you'd ever hidden. You'd had a taste of her, and you'd be damned if you didn't at least try for her again. Alexia Putellas wasn't one to lose, and you'd been fortunate to have her in the first place. If it was a one time thing, maybe you'd have to come to terms with that being the case. But for now, getting to Barcelona was just the first step.

Your grandparents definitely approved of you going back, no matter how long for, whether it be one day or one month or perhaps forever. At some point in the past year you had opened up to them about Alexia and they were heartbroken for you. Of course they would be. Your hearts were one and the same. They were the biggest advocates in getting you to go back and see Alexia, and even if Alexia didn't want to see you, you were still going to go to Barcelona. You had friends there, you'd lived a whole life there for just over a year, you'd fallen in love with it before you'd even met Alexia, so regardless of her opinion (even if it did sting like hell) you're still going.

When you booked your flight there, with no return ticket just yet, your grandparents had cheered and dragged you up from the armchair to dance with them along to the music from their old radio. It was a core memory, absolutely, and you'd be lying if you said a part of you wasn't hoping to share this memory one day with Alexia.

However, the day came where you had to do the thing you'd been most afraid of. Contacting Alexia. It was an occasion that definitely called for an emergency video call with your therapist who was very pleased to meet your grandparents for the first time, albeit over Zoom, and the three of them offered any and all advice you'd take until you had carefully curated a text message to send to her.

You:

Hey Alexia, I hope you're doing well. Feel free to ignore this, but I'm coming back to Barcelona soon and I was wondering if you wanted to catch up? If you don't want to, I completely understand. It's been a while and we've both lived our lives without each other in it, so no pressure at all. Let me know if you're open to it. Take care x

Almost immediately, the message was read by her. And just as quickly, the typing icon came up. Safe to say, your grandparents were freaking out just as much as you were.

Alexia:

Wow, it is so good to hear from you. I'm doing well and I really hope things are much better for you. I've been dreaming of hearing from you since the moment you left. I absolutely want to see you again, I don't care how long it's been, so let me know when you're coming and I'll see you as soon as I can. Espero verte pronto, cuídate x

Any longer and your jaw would have been lodged into its place hanging wide open. She wanted to see you just as much as you wanted to see her. The feeling of relief that washed over you upon reading it was gone as quick as it arrived; instead, you were now filled with nerves. No, not nerves, butterflies.

And that's where you found yourself now, your taxi driver navigating the streets of Barcelona towards your hotel in mid-October. It was reaching the evening, so your plan was to start off the trip calmly with a walk around the city to re-familiarise yourself before sunset, then just order some room service for dinner. Simple, but the right way to start what would probably be a bit of a challenging trip mentally.

Despite the low-key nature of the day, you could hardly sleep later that night. There was only one reason, it was obvious. You and Alexia had plans to meet for lunch the next day after her training session. You can't recall an event in your life you had ever felt so excited for, you felt like a kid on Christmas Eve again. A few doubts trickled into your mind every now and then, but you'd grafted for too long now for petty worries to tear down the confidence you had built.

Of course you were eager to see the woman you loved again for the first time in eighteen months, but there was a bigger part of you that was desperate for her to see the progress you'd made. You were proud, and it had taken a lot to get to this point. You wanted to share your pride with her and show her the person you always knew you could be all along. All of your efforts, your hard-work, and your sacrifices had been worth it. You were right to feel proud. And after all, sacrifices were given that name for a reason.

When you did eventually fall asleep, it was with images of Alexia circling in your mind, hoping she still had a place in her heart for you and that she'd love you again for who you are now and not who you were.

Finally, finally, the time came to see Alexia again. You weren't really sure what to expect; it was a unique situation with exceptional circumstances, and you were trying desperately not to put too much pressure on the day. Yet, you were a despairingly hopeful person and the anticipation was almost overwhelming as you were getting ready.

Contact between you both had been little but often, topics never delving too deep which you were so glad about as you wanted to talk to her properly face to face. You had to, it's the least she deserved. Over text, anything could be easily misinterpreted and you weren't about to ruin your chance with words getting lost in translation. Phone calls and FaceTimes were out of the question too, and you were grateful that your individual desperation wasn't getting in the way of going about this the correctly. By no means were you a perfectionist, but there were some things in life that were far too important to be ruined by a lack of patience and all-consuming desire.

Once again, your new and probably your healthiest habit came into play as you decided to walk under the bright October weather to the place Alexia had chosen for the occasion. Neutral ground of course; meeting at her apartment or your hotel room wasn't appropriate... yet.

You arrived at the quaint, little restaurant first, a coincidence you were more thankful for than you'd admit, and you chose to seat yourself at a table off to the side. A bit of privacy from strangers could go a long way for a day like today, you figured. You didn't really want a bunch of strangers to witness the influx of emotions you'd no doubt go through when Alexia arrived.

Soon though, that became a case of if Alexia would arrive, because ten minutes passed since you had arrived practically on time and there was still no sign of the woman. And, rather naïvely, you hadn't planned for her to stand you up. You and your therapist had almost fully mentally prepared you for every other outcome except that one. She did have training beforehand, perhaps that had ran late. Still, your mind was slowly spiralling into overdrive with each second that passed.

Until she did arrive.

The bell over the door rang faintly through the room as it opened hastily, a frantic looking Alexia entering the restaurant. She was really here. Here, basically racing over to you whilst weaving through the tables and chairs and the light scattering of people. Here, still as breathtakingly beautiful as ever. Still Alexia.

She came to a stop in front of you, both of you stuck in a trance as if the world had stopped spinning solely for this moment right here. An anticipatory and contemplative silence settled as your eyes' tracked over every feature of the other, a refresh for the memory of the face you'd so dearly missed.

Alexia was the first to speak - a breathless whisper of your name as if she was in disbelief that you were right in front of her. It triggered something in you, because before you had even realised, you had jumped up from your chair and wrapped your arms tightly around her; a hug you had been dying for for longer than you'd admit. It took a few seconds for her to react but soon, Alexia enveloped you just as emphatically.

The embrace was paired with a few more whispered chants of your name from Alexia - in this moment, for her, it felt like the past months without you she had just been floating through her life, waking up everyday as if it were a chore more than anything. But now, in your arms, she felt alive again. The time without you had been worth it for this single moment here.

"Hey." You mumbled quietly into her neck, smiling uncontrollably when the taller woman squeezed you impossibly more in response.

"Hi." Her voice cracked ever so slightly as she spoke. "Hi."

"You already said that." You teased her lightly, meeting her gaze when she moved back to look at you properly. One of her hands came up to delicately cradle your cheek as if she was scared you would disintegrate at her touch. "Don't be so worried. I'm not going anywhere right now."

"You better not." Alexia murmured, her eyes boring down at you so deeply that it caused your breath to hitch in your throat. "I can't believe you're here."

You blushed at the intensity of her look, gesturing a hand down your body jokingly.

"Live in the flesh." You grinned cheekily, gasping slightly when she pulled you back into herself. "Ale."

"Say that again." She said so quietly you almost missed it.

"Alexia. Ale." You repeated, along with a light kiss to her cheek. She physically deflated in your arms, all the tension you didn't even realise was there dissipating immediately. You saying her name was like the last confirmation she needed that yes, you were actually here.

"I..." She started, leaning back and shaking her head whilst letting out a shaky breath. "I missed you. So much."

You smile and... almost instinctively lean in to kiss her - what were you doing?

"I missed you too." You replied, willing yourself to not ruin it, not now, not when you've made it so far. "I really did."

She returned a smile and reluctantly lets go of you in favour of finally taking a seat at the table. You sit across from her and realise that most of the tables were quite small and intimate, and if you had any remaining functional thought processes left that weren't all occupied by Alexia, you would have thought she'd chosen this restaurant for that specific feature. Your knees grazed against each other under the table and Alexia couldn't stop herself from travelling the small distance with her hands to grasp one of yours with both of hers.

"How are you?"

"Well, that's quite a question. Do you want the short answer or the long answer?" You answer humorously, Alexia shrugging.

"Whatever you want. Say it all or say nothing, I'm just glad to be in your company again." You can't help but swoon a little at her words. "But... I would really like it if you were honest with me. And open. Though I understand if not."

"I'm happy to tell you it all. You best have your listening ears on though." You say, delighted to hear her laugh.

"I do, I swear."

At that, you explain everything from start to finish. From the days you spent in bed, to the first therapy session you had, to the moment you opened up to your grandparents, all the way to the point where you made the decision to come back to Barcelona. The only slightly annoying and poorly timed interruption was from the waiter who asked for your orders, the pair of you quickly apologising and taking one glance at the menu before ordering the first thing that caught your eye.

She listened intently to every word you had to say, not afraid to ask a question every now and then whilst also respecting the privacy you still had every right to. Alexia didn't really feel like you absolutely owed her anything, she just wanted a little context to it all, a little closure and an update on your current state of mind. She just wanted you to be well, she just wanted you.

The whole time you spoke, she simply gazed at you with such a soft and earnest look in her eyes. With her presence that, despite all that time, still had the greatest effect on you paired with your newfound self, you were at peace here.

"You promise that you're better now?" She raises her hand up to you, waiting for you to link fingers with her to secure your truth. And this time, you weren't lying when you answered her.

"I'm so much better." You stated with a shy smile, and that statement felt like the final nail in the coffin to the whole journey you'd been on the past two years.

"You don't know how happy I am to hear that." Alexia revealed with a disbelieving shake of her head. You lift your shoulders in a dismissive shrug, glancing down at your joined hands in the centre of the table.

"Are you... are you angry at me?" You ask. You weren't perfect still, you still had doubts and insecurities.

"What would I be angry about?" Her nose scrunched up in genuine confusion.

"Any of it. All of it."

"Hey." She said, nudging your hand to try and gain your attention. You look up at her and blush a little. "Do I seem angry?" You ponder that for a moment, eyes searching her face, before shaking your head no. "Good, because I'm not. Not at all. What person would I be to react like that?"

"An asshole." You mumble, the pair of you breaking out into laughter after a second.

"I'm proud of you and happy for you. You..." Alexia sighs and pauses, wondering if it's the right time to say what she wanted to say. It's her turn to focus her attention on your hands as she mindlessly traced random shapes on the back of your hand with her finger. "This new version of you, I can see that you're less... weighed down by things. There is a different look in your eyes and though I can't quite describe it yet, I know it's a sign that you feel better and more at peace with yourself. That is all I could wish for, for the person I love."

Sorry, what was that?

"Uh, you sti- you still love me?" You stuttered. You just had to know.

"Yes. I do." Alexia confirms, a sheepish smile on her face. "I was being truthful before you left when I said that I'll always love you. Maybe I shouldn't have said this now. You don't have to love me still. I would... I would understand."

"No, Ale, what?" You shook your head at her and squeezed her hands tightly. "I love you. I'll always love you too. Why do you think I wouldn't love you?"

"Why would you think I wouldn't love you?" She hits back, resulting in you both laughing shyly. "It would have to be really crazy situations for me to not love you, chiqui."

"Was this not a crazy situation? Me dramatically fleeing the country out of nowhere?"

"No, and don't say it like that. You had every reason to leave, okay? I told you that when you left and I'll still tell you that now. I don't resent you for choosing yourself." Alexia argues firmly, bringing your hand up to her mouth so that she could kiss the back of it reassuringly. She halts for a moment, wondering if it's appropriate to do so, but judging by the redness of your cheeks she decides to go through with it. "I... just had a few doubts about this all, but now that you're here my mind has calmed down now."

"Are you okay?" You blurt out.

At the mention of herself, your concern immediately turned to Alexia and how she coped through all this. If you knew her as well as you thought you did, you had a feeling you knew what her immediate reaction would be.

"What do you mean?"

Exactly what you guessed.

"I haven't checked up on you yet. I want to know how you've been doing." You answer, shifting forward slightly so that you were closer to her.

"Why check up on me?" Alexia chuckles nervously.

"Because your girlfriend walked out on you and went off the grid for a year and a half. Forget about me right now, Ale, I want to know how you are."

She pauses looking at you, an internal battle going on behind her eyes that you're all too familiar with, until she sighs once more and her demeanour drops.

"Well, I was worried about you, firstly. Everyday I woke up you were the first thing I thought about and the last thing in my mind before I slept. I don't think you ever left my mind, not for long anyway. I wanted the best for you. And then I guess... I had a few selfish thoughts too. But as I said, you're here, and I don't need to think about them anymore." Alexia told you, a tight-lipped smile on her face. "I don't want to say them now, today is about you."

"No, Alexia, it's not. It's a day for both of us." You urge her to understand that it's okay for her to open up, that it's been a hard time for her too, but part of you knows you most likely won't get that out of her today.

"Amor, please. Let's do this another time, for now just focus on the positive. We can talk about me any other time, just not now, please." She begs with a pleading look in her eyes. "I am okay, I swear. You being here has solved everything, it's the truth."

"Promise you'll open up at some point soon?" It's your turn to hold your hand up for her to make a promise.

"As long as you stay long enough." She jokes, but it's clear to see there is some fear and insecurity there. She does link her finger with yours though, a sentiment that's never lost on you. "How long are you staying for?"

"That's the thing. I don't really have a return date yet." You admit, and the flash of hope in Alexia's eyes ignites a feeling of longing inside of you.

Forget timings and socially standardised timelines of falling in love or healing or whatever it was you were doing, you didn't care anymore. Why delay the inevitable process? You were in love with her and she was in love with you. Taking it slow was overrated anyway.

"What does that mean?" Alexia asks, her heart palpitating at the prospect of your answer.

"It means... anything, Ale. What do you want it to mean?"

Perhaps answering questions with another question wasn't the best habit you'd picked up from your therapist.

"You want the truth?" You nod instantly, your emotions already bubbling and she hasn't even said anything yet. "As long as you are ready for it, and you must swear to me that you are because I don't want to h-"

"Oh my god, just say it, please." You beg, eyes wide in hopeful anticipation, waiting for her to admit the thing you had yearned for all these months.

"I want you back in my life, permanently. I want to be your girlfriend again. No matter how long it takes, no matter how slow you decide to take things, the thing I've wished for all this time is to just be yours again, to have you as mine. I'll do anything to make that happen, I swear by it. You want me to throw stones at your hotel window? I'll do it. You want me to sneak onto your balcony in the middle of the night? I'll do that. You want me to stand outside your door with a loudspeaker and signs? I already have the speaker and words prepared. I'll even stand in the centre of Montjuïc at the next game and sing for you if you really want."

You laugh at every ridiculous idea of devotion that comes out of her mouth, eyes glossy with unshed tears. Except, this time, the tears aren't ones of sorrow or longing, they're tears of exultation and relief. Alexia had waited for you, all this time. There had been no one else for her and no matter how selfish it was, it's the best revelation you've ever had.

"I don't think the culers would be too happy about you singing." You teased, rolling your eyes at the smug and nonchalant shrug she gave.

"I don't care, because it wouldn't be for them, it would be for you." She smirks, leaning in closer. Your foreheads were mere inches about now, a fact neither of you could ignore.

"You sure you want me back?" You mumbled shyly. It was Alexia's turn to roll her eyes now as she fought back the temptation to kiss the doubt off of your lips.

"I want nothing more than I want you." She responded, sounding so sure of herself that it was intoxicatingly enticing.

"Even if it's long distance for a little while?"

"Even then." Alexia smiles, resting her arms on her elbows as she brought your joined hands up together to rest in between you both. She pressed her lips to your hands once more, eyes closed as she does so, before looking back into your eyes. "We will figure out the logistics another time. For now, all I know is that I have the love of my life back and I want to spend every second I can with her before she leaves."

"Love of your life, hm?" You whisper with a shy grin, Alexia grunting at how you teased her for her softness. It was something you'd always done, and she was grateful that that part of you hadn't changed. "Well, what do we do now?"

"I'm hoping that you will let me kiss you, finally."

"In here? With all these people?" There really weren't that many people in there, and the few that were wouldn't even take notice of the sickeningly sweet moment occuring.

"Sí. Déjame besarte, por favor." The sound of Alexia speaking Spanish was something you could never get over, it did things to you everytime. How could you deny her when she spoke like she did?

"I guess." You rolled your eyes and sighed dramatically as if it was such an inconvenience.

Alexia simply grinned and planted both her hands on your cheeks before surging forward to kiss you. However, she pauses for a moment, just taking in your appearance and letting out a huff of disbelieved laughter, then she finally presses her lips against yours. A quiet, muffled moan leaves your throat before you can stop it, and the sound of it causes Alexia to smirk smugly. Frustratingly, the stupid but irresistible thing made it aggravatingly difficult to kiss the life out of her like you so wanted to. The smirk was wiped off of Alexia's face the second you broke the kiss much sooner than she wanted to.

"What's wro-"

"I can't kiss you how I want to when you're grinning like a maniac, pendeja!" You groan, butting your forehead against hers to further emphasise your annoyance.

"Pobrecita bebé." Alexia pouts sarcastically at you whilst gently grasping your chin with her thumb and forefinger. That idiotic, childish grin soon forced its way back where it belongs, and you can't help but smile at the sight of it. "I can't help it, amor! What do you want me to do?"

"Be normal and not do that stupid smirk!"

"Oh, perdónarme, I'm sorry I'm so happy that I have you back!" Alexia exclaims, arguing solely to rile you up. What people didn't know about this layered Catalan is that she loved bickering with you or just annoying you in general. You didn't realise quite how much you missed it until this moment now.

"I swear to god, stop being so infuriating and just get o-"

And get on with it she did. You couldn't even finish your sentence before she silenced you in one of the best ways you could think of. And god bless the poor waiter who just wanted to do his job, because when he came to give you your meals, the sight he walked up to was somewhat less than PG. The young guy, who honestly looked no older than 18, cleared his throat louder than normal and the pair of you jumped a mile apart at the unexpected presence. Alexia had to grip the edge of the table to prevent her chair from tipping back, trying desperately to disguise her embarrassment with a tight-lipped smile and rambled thanks to the boy, all the whilst you had to stifle what would be a very loud belly laugh.

"Calláte, that was your fault." Alexia hushed out, her eyes scanning the room to figure out if anyone else had just witnessed that monstrosity. Meanwhile, your face was now bright red due to the laughter threatening to escape out from behind your palm that covered your mouth. It was Alexia's fault really, the shot burst of laughter that barrelled out of you, because she kicked you in the shin as she sipped from the water that had been dropped off at some point during the afternoon. "Dios mío, what is wrong with you!?"

"Sorry, sorry, I'm sorry." You choked out. You took a page from Alexia's book and drank some of your water. As you did, you noticed that Alexia's face wasn't contorted to one of irritation, it was the face she did when she was trying to suppress the overwhelming amount of joy she felt. As someone who was so keen to convey a certain persona, it was one you'd seen a few times since you'd known her, and this was perhaps your favourite look of hers. "I think you'll find it was your awkwardness that was at fault, Ale."

"Yeah, yeah. Eat your food, idiota."

There were periods of peaceful silence as you ate, some conversation here and there, but despite all that has and hasn't been said so far, it felt like there wasn't anything that needed to be uttered. You were both content to enjoy each other's presence again, your eyes meeting every other moment as you ate which resulted in you both blushing and laughing like lovesick teenagers.

It really was tooth-rottingly sweet, and though the dynamic wasn't all too different than it was before, there was solace found in the knowledge that a lot of things had been changed for the better. The prospect of it all was exhilarating, a new path for you both to walk together, and for you there were no longer question marks looming over every part of your life.

The main thing that hadn't changed too much for you, a thing you were relieved about, was the way Alexia made you feel. It was the same as it used to be, except about a million times better. There wasn't so much guilt or gloom that was masked by Alexia, it was all genuine and you already knew that feeling would bleed into your everyday life with her around.

"You said you told your grandparents about me?" Alexia wondered, sitting back in her chair with her hands linked over her stomach.

"I did. They said if this goes well, I have to bring back Barça shirts for them." You revealed with a smile, Alexia chuckling.

"I can organise that for them. As well as tickets to a game if they'd like."

"Alright, Miss Marketing." You roll your eyes at her offer, pausing to take a sip from your half-full glass. "We get it, you love your club. You don't have to spread the message like a missionary."

"I have to win them over some way." Alexia laughs, before her face turns a little more serious and you have a feeling you know what she's about to bring up. "What about your... Dad?"

"Haven't spoken to him since the day I left." You answer, eyes focused on the tracks your finger left behind on the condensation of the glass as it ran around the curve of it. "No idea what he's doing or where he is. Just know that he's alive and that's all I have the energy to care about."

"That's good for you, amor. He doesn't deserve you."

"I know that." You smile genuinely at her, and that's another one of her worries she had for you erased. "I think, out of anyone, my therapist is the one you must give tickets to."

"Mm, yes. I must meet this magical woman one day, I owe my life to her." That charming smirk is back on her face, and you blush at that as well as the sentiment she holds in her words.

"I don't want this meal to end." You mumble in a disheartened voice, reaching your hand across the small gap between you both to grasp one of the hands on her stomach.

"It... it doesn't have to, amor." Alexia starts, catching your attention as you look up to meet her eyes. "You could come over to my apartment. It's been a while since you've been there. The indentation on my balcony chair has left, I think you need to reinstate it."

You roll your eyes at her humour, a soft smile on your face at the laugh she gives at her own jokes. You do think the offer over though - is it too soon? Maybe, but if this counted as a first date, milestones were out the window considering you'd already confessed your love for each other. Did time and patience count when it came to re-conciliating a relationship? Screw it, who cares.

"I'd be happy to come over, Ale. If you want that."

"Are you sure? Because I would love that, except I don't want to rush you or ruin anything if we move too fast."

"Fuck that. I know what I want now and that's you. Who cares what is too fast. I've delayed our relationship once already, I'm not doing that again."

She stares at you from across the table and if it was possible, you'd say her pupils were the shape of a heart with the look she fixed you with. Then she was standing out of nowhere, shrugging her jacket back on whilst you watched her, completely confused, until she held her hand out for you.

"Let's go, ay?" She hums, wiggling her fingers to urge you to move. "No wasting time, you said."

You jut your tongue into your cheek, heart fluttering at her forwardness, and gather your own coat before taking her hand. She presses a soft kiss to your cheek before guiding you towards the exit with a hand on your lower back, a notion she's always done and one you'll always adore.

Silently, she leads you to her car that's parked around the corner and watches with a shy but proud smile as you climb into the passenger side of the car. With every little thing you did, whether that was humming contently as you ate your food or smiling at her absentmindedly every time she spoke, or even just blinking and breathing, she realised she could never verbalise the love she held for you because she'd never experienced it before in her life, ever. Not with pets, not with friends, not with her family. It was otherworldly, unexplainable, and though she wasn't religious, her devotion to you was just as close to that.

Again, there is just light, scattered chatter as she drives you back to one of your favourite places in the world, and once more she guides you to the elevator with her palm pressed to your back. As you stand in the lift, shoulder to shoulder, there are modestly triumphant smiles on your faces, a wordless shared notion sitting between you that everything was worth it in the end. Even if it took a journey and a half to get there, the climb was always worth it for the view at the top.

"What would you like to do now?" Alexia asks as she unlocks her door and allows you to step in before her.

"Uh, can we chill on the balcony? You know it's my favourite spot." You reply with a grin, and Alexia somehow knew you were going to say that, almost as if she's heard those words leave your mouth maybe a few hundred times in the past.

"Of course. You go ahead, I'll get us some drinks."

You nod and walk through to her bedroom, one thing standing out to you; everything is exactly the same as it was before. That comforts you impossibly more than you yourself could ever understand. Future therapy topic?

However, there is one thing that jumps out at you. You walk over to where it stands on Alexia's dresser and pick it up, holding the object in your hand with a smile on your face.

"Ale, why do you have my favourite perfume here? I never once brought it to your apartment." You shout to where she was in the kitchen, no doubt her cheeks a bright pink colour at the fact she'd been caught out.

"Because I bought some, after you left." She replied, and you giggle to yourself at the ever so slightly embarrassed tone that creeps through.

"Liked the smell, did you?"

"Mm. Something like that." She grumbled.

You grin and place it down, heading over to the sliding door adjacent to her bed and opening it. The air that hits you and the sight that greets you causes a wave of familiarity to wash over you, one that you welcome straight away. You take a deep breath and bask in the feeling, leaning on the railing as your eyes raked over the view you adored.

A few minutes later and you hear Alexia walking out behind you, first placing the drinks on the small side table before joining you at the edge. She wraps an arm loosely around your waist and rests her chin on your shoulder, admiring the view of the city that was literally right on her doorstep.

"I missed this view." You break the silence first, voicing what Alexia already knew.

"I missed you." She murmurs, turning to press a kiss to your shoulder when she notices something. "Ah, I knew you never gave that back."

Delicately, she runs her index finger along the necklace that sat around your neck which she had gifted you way back when, quietly delighted to see you still wearing it. And it also aided her in not feeling so embarrassed about the earlier incident where you had found the perfume she bought in memory of you.

"Yeah, sorry about that." You mumble sheepishly, shivering when Alexia chuckles into your neck where her lips soon leave a kiss.

"No, I like that you still have it."

You hum in acknowledgement, content to stay here in the arms of your girlfriend as the locals carried on with the hustle and bustle of city life below you.

"This was my favourite thing about your apartment." You state a little while later, leaning your head against Alexia's.

"I remember." You feel her say it more than you hear it, before a thought clearly captures her attention as she stands up fully, still with her arm around you. "You could come here, uh... full time, you know?"

"You mean move in with you?" It's not the most surprising thing you'd heard from her in all honesty, but it was still a bit of a shock to the system.

"If you'd like. I know I would be happy with that."

"I would too, but... I think that maybe does cross the line of 'too soon' though." You reply with an apologetic smile, but Alexia understands instantly, of course she does.

"That's okay." She comments, one more kiss to your shoulder. "Do you think you'll ever come back to live here again? Barcelona, I mean."

With this city before you, this woman holding you and loving you so gently, and the sea and the sky merging into one in the far distance, you think that maybe life can be simple after all. That starts and ends with Alexia.

"I think it's only a matter of time."

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas one shot #alexia putellas imagine #woso

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sunnys-out · 6 months

Text

What Rivalry? | Leah Williamson and Alessia Russo

A/N: Sorry this is a wee later than I thought, but I played soccer all day Saturday for charity and took Sunday to recover. Also, I'm a bit sad because the English defender I was talking to went back to England to renew her visa and I miss her lol so please enjoy this would make my day.

Based on this request

Warnings: Alcohol, implied smut, MDNI

Word Count: 2087

I had a thing for Arsenal players…Something about not only beating Arsenal in a game but then bedding one of the star English players as a Chelsea player, was something I loved.

I was a Blue through and through, pops and my older brother played for the Chelsea men and my mum was one of the physical therapists at Chelsea. Being a Blue did not stop me from eyeing Miss Leah Williamson after each and every game we had against Arsenal.

“There she goes again, money on Leah rejecting her this time.” Kerr would elbow Millie as she saw me saunter over and see me place an arm around an already smiling Leah.

Millie only blew out a breath, “yeah Sammy you already lost before ya even started, look at her…(y/n) got her wrapped around her finger”.

Sam only looked on and saw that my arm had now traveled to hold Leah’s waist as I stood whispering softly in her ear, earning a giggle from the normally stern faced captain.

“Ohhh yeah she’s a goner” Sam said with a laugh as both started back towards the tunnel.

______________________________________________________________

Leah and I had an arrangement, obviously, and well the first time that I was able to have a taste of Miss Leah Williamson it was after a particularly hard game for Arsenal…made her keep the game jersey on for our first night together.

Leah Williamson tastes like a good bourbon out with friends, a warm cinnamon candy during the fall, like a sunset, like the colors of autumn…She was addicting and tasted like the colors of the jersey she wore all bunched up above her chest as I took my time with her every single derby game.

She never stayed, always leaving once I had finished and never returned the favor. Leah wanted some time to just let go of control and I was the one to allow that for her…that was months ago, see it was just an arrangement…that’s all it ever was going to be. It was always going to be something physical and nothing more…the way that I had intended but I found myself falling for Leah…ironically…shortly after I had shut her down when she had confessed to me.

I remember when I tried to rectify whatever we had after I fucked it up when I had pulled her aside after a USWNT vs. England match.

______________________________________________________________

“Didn’t realize this was an Arsenal/Chelsea match? And bold of you to want to do something in the hallway…didn’t take that as your thing” Leah whispered the last part as she pulled me closer.

I put my hands on hers gently removing them from my jersey.

“No, Leah, I actually wanted to see if you were willing to go get a drink with me and you know actually talk?” Leah’s smile immediately drops at the realization and she takes a step back.

Her raised hand immediately stops me before I could continue, “You don’t get to do this. I was heartbroken when you shut me down and I was like, "Fine, something physical as long as I can get to keep her around in some way”

She pauses to collect her thoughts and uses her next breath as her eyes grow stern, “But you can’t just shut me down and then realize you felt the same way. I don’t even think you actually have feelings for me…what about me do you like?”

I shuffle my feet, the sound of my cleats on the hard floors of the hallway.

“I still remember the first time…I still remember how you tast-” the English captain rolled her eyes and got close.

“You're really going to use what you said to me when you shut me down…it worked when you wanted to keep it physical..you being all poetic about the sex…but to use it when you actually want to prove that you want a relationship with me?” the space between us grew as I frowned.

The words now escaping me and a small, “You’re right, we shouldn’t keep doing this” escaped my mouth…Leah lifted my chin gently with her hand.

“Hey we both wanted it like this initially…so I can’t be mad at you…but you need someone who will want to stay with you even after the fact, take care of you, I don’t know…make you breakfast in bed or whatever… but that can’t be me…I’m sorry”. And with that Leah left the narrative…leaving me to not only sit with the 2-0 loss against England but also losing her completely

______________________________________________________________

Months and Months would pass and continue on…just like Leah did. She found herself with Jordan and well I was happy for her. There was a bit of bitterness in my mouth because I hadn’t found anyone who wanted to stick around in the morning.

Jessie Fleming, being my closest friend on the team, would always be there for my frustrated rants and she’d constantly reassure that there was definitely someone out there that “would put up with me and more”.

Jess’ way of getting me out of a funk was to prevent me from immediately going home after a Derby game. Of course, she would elicit the help of Sammy and Millie in convincing me that a drink with the Arsenal girls would not be such a bad idea.

“Come on, (y/n), ya can’t stay cooped up in your apartment all the time” Millie grabs me by the elbow after I had tried to return to my room.

I huffed as I sat on my couch crossing my arms, “I look ridiculous”.

“I think you look hot, come on, there were some new Arsenal signings so ya got options.” Sam winked as she finished up her pre-game drink.

I roll my eyes “weren’t y’all the ones giving me shit about getting with an Arsenal girl?” my hands going up and shaking “No, (y/n) come on keep the sanctity of the rivalry!” I mocked what had previously been said.

It was their turn to roll their eyes, “What rivalry? All I see is that you need to find someone” Jessie smacks my shoulder.

“Now come on, and don’t worry Leah won’t be there since her whole ACL thing” Millie says now picking me up from the couch and pushing me out of the door.

______________________________________________________________

Alessia’s POV:

The bar was lively and we all had our own little booth away from the public so that we could all enjoy our time together. This was my first outing with the Arsenal girls since joining the team.

Lotte and Steph had reassured me that it was just a fun time with the girls and that the Chelsea girls didn’t bite.

“So, who’s coming?” I yelled to McCabe as she downed the last of her first beer of the night.

She looked at me with a cocked eyebrow, “Why? Hoping for someone in particular, Russo?”

“No, just curious” I say while taking a sip of the beer in front of me. Thankfully, the darkness of the bar hid the obvious blush now creeping on my cheeks. I was waiting for someone in particular, (y/n) (l/n)...I’ve had a crush on her even when I was at Manchester United.

I tried to swap jerseys with her and maybe swapped numbers but she was pretty to herself after games.

Katie seemed to read my thoughts, as a smirk played on her lips.

“Oh I know who…that girl is a tough one and that’s coming from me but she’s a sweet gal”

Caitlin looked to the entrance of the bar and with a laugh “speaking of sweet gals, look at the who finally arrived. The Blues late as usual”

I look over and see Sam, Millie, Jessie and trailing behind them (y/n).

“Sorry! Sorry, we had to drag this one out of her apartment” Sam said pushing (y/n) to the front. I, immediately, hid my face in my beer ignoring the dig from McCabe’s elbow into my side.

I glance up and catch (y/n)’s eye. She had a curious look in her eye that then shifted to annoyance as Sam pushed her in my direction as she sat down next to me.

(y/n) took her time to say hi to the rest of the girls and I suddenly felt McCabe’s elbow again.

I realized that (y/n) was looking at me, “Oh sorry was a bit in my own world there”

She laughs a little and shakes her head, “No worries, I don’t mind it…I’m (y/n), congrats on signing to Arsenal, you played well in your debut by the way, Alessia”

The way my name sounded in her mouth made me melt into a puddle right then and there and I only snapped out of it once she got closer so as to not yell is what I told myself.

“I’m going to go get something stronger, want to come with or are you going to be nursing that beer the rest of the night?” she said just enough for me to hear.

I honestly think she felt the heat from the blush on my cheeks because a smile appeared on her lips before I even said “yes”.

______________________________________________________________

Alessia followed me and we both remained at the bar and had just a cocktail before she pulled me to the dance floor.

“Come on it’ll be fun” she said, pulling me towards her as we had a space to ourselves.

I looked at her slightly amused as she hadn’t realized that her hands had found their place at my waist.

“Bold, Russo…you trying to pull me?” I say not trying to break eye contact.

Must have been the alcohol in her system because a laugh escaped her.

“Well yeah hoping to pull the cute girl in front of me?”

I return the laugh and lean into her, “well I'm not going to stop anything that you may be planning, Russo”

Alessia, empowered, grabbed me by the chin and kissed me deeply totally forgetting that our respective teammates were watching from the booth across the bar.

Millie patted Sam’s shoulder, “guess, who won the bet Sammy, you owe me dinner” which earned an exaggerated roll of Sam’s eyes as she also slid a bill towards Millie.

______________________________________________________________

Alessia and I both found ourselves at my apartment later that night, clothes strewn about, both of our phones lighting up with notifications but us ignoring everything and focusing only on the other.

The taste of Alessia, I knew I would become addicted to, but I didn’t hold my breath because the other side of my bed would be empty come morning…like always.

I savored the moment and the sounds that she made as she came undone. Like a nice coconut rum, the sunrise in a forest, like a honey candy and as intense as the sun. Leah was right, I’m too poetic for my own good.

The light from my curtains hit my eyes as I lifted myself up…surprising myself when I felt a weight holding down the rest of my sheets.

There lay Alessia, sleeping soundly, with the sun hitting her hair in a way that created a light shine around her features. A small scrunch on her nose as she felt the movement from me and a light flutter of lashes allowed for her gentle blue eyes to greet me.

“Morning’” she whispered with a slight giggle.

I only nod, not knowing what to say.

“Sorry, I knocked out right after…I did want to return the favor you know” she said shifting closer to me.

I shake my head “nah, it’s ok…” Alessia stops me as she now finds herself on top of me, now filled with an energy in her eyes even though she had just woken up moments ago.

“No, I want to and then I can make you breakfast too…” She said gently lowering herself, taking my lips slowly as she did as she promised.

______________________________________________________________

Alessia stayed more than that morning, she made an effort to visit me and make me laugh many times after that night. At our first derby game together, she prompted a swapping of jerseys where with her jersey was a crumpled piece of paper neatly written.

“What rivalry? Just want to be able to take you on a proper date. :) Text me when you get home xxx-xxx-xxxx”

Jessie was right, I did find someone, who would put up with me and more and I'm glad it’s Alessia.

#arsenal wfc #arsenal women #lionesses #engwnt x reader #alessia russo x reader #leah williamson x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics

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howtodrawyourdragon · 7 months

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I'm gonna say it; Hiccup did nothing wrong. We're treating him as the biggest problem of THW when literally his worst crime in is somehow losing his freckles and that's not even something he has control over. Oh and that kind of incredibly stupid plan of literally moving an entire people by going "let's just fly straight until we hit something :) even though I, Hiccup Haddock, somehow don't believe the world is round."

The entire rest of the movie is everyone else around him being horrible and out of character.

Berk is a mess in the beginning of the movie, yes. But it was also just a year ago that his father was horribly murdered in front of him because Draco Bloodyfist-Or-Whatever decided to sent his mind controled best friend after him. Everybody expects Hiccup to be put together and solve all problems immediately and remain a Dragon Rider when he should be buying a therapist a mansion and a yacht with all those billed sessions.

Then there is being told more than once that he's putting Astrid second when he literally isn't. And told he should meet her standard.s

There is all that stuff about how he's been a horrible pet owner to Toothless when he had legitimate and real fears about Toothless not making it out in wild and about the Light Fury turning on him and about him not coming back. (Like... he's a disabled dragon, for Gods' sake??? Toothless will literally NOT make it without human intervention)

He's called out for not embracing change when his name was literally synonymous with change before THW and every bit of change he proposes in the movie is met with backlash unless Astrid, their not-chief, says it's okay.

His mother, who abandoned him for 20 and came home with him after the traumatic loss of his father spends most of the movie not being the mother she promised him to be in the second movie and even advocated for the Riders to be less dependent on dragons when she was with dragons for the entirety of those 20 years.

And then there is all the bullying. Making fun of his voice, telling him- a disabled person- to LOSE THE LIMP, telling him he's not worthy of Astrid the warrior goddess (completely forgetting how Hiccup is both parts warrior and diplomat in at least the previous two movies, let alone the movies and the shows) and these three things are all said by Tuffnut! "Forgets he has a sister in THW" Tuffnut!

And let's not forget Snotlout's "who died and made you chief?!" when Snotlout was literally crying at Stoick's funeral. And then proceeds to hit on the dead man's wife and his best friend's mother while also putting said best friend down!

Like... none of the things said to him in the first movie were as bad as some of the things said in THW.

The entire movie is also basically Hiccup being pulled from one direction to the other.

It's "You're a bad chief because you're not changing anything" yet it's also "how dare you make this change!"

It's "you should step up as chief" yet it's also "we will only listen if Astrid says it's good."

It's "you were literally keeping Toothless captive for 6 years :/" yet it's also "Uuuhhh, time to cut the umbilical cord, don't you think? 🙄"

It's "you let Toothless go free, what did you expect?" yet also "uh, you let him go???"

It's "you are literally nothing without Toothless, sorry :/" yet it's also "Toothless only showed you what was already inside."

It's "you should put Astrid first for once" yet it's also "I, Hiccup, will literally listen to every single word you, Astrid, says even if it's hurtful."

It's "I, Astrid, will suggest to you, Hiccup, that we go find Toothless in the hidden world" yet it's also "I, Astrid, will blame you, Hiccup, for deciding to go to the Hidden World, making the Light Fury, who you have no control over, to follow us back home"

It's "hey man, can you help me with this dragon tail? :(" yet it's also "I will literally not listen to you when I'm about to break this branch that I and the dragon tail are on."

I mean, my God! I'd sent the dragons away if I had to listen to that for the past year after I watched my father die a gruesome death.

And that's not even the worst part. The worst part is Toothless abandoning Hiccup for the most shallow reason there is; chasing dragon tail that doesn't even want anything to do with him unless he does something that impresses her when he's the king of the dragons.

So yeah, probably an unpopular opinion, but besides one bad plan, Hiccup did nothing wrong besides listen to what all the people around him were saying, no matter how much they contradict themselves.

Really, what he needs is a hug. A Real one. :(

#me ranting about thw? it's more likely than you think!#i find myself thinking what the riders in the rtte-era would've thought if they saw the way hiccup was being treated in thw #because of the “where hiccup goes we go” sentiment and because that's when the riders became a family #thw salt #httyd 3 criticism #httyd movies #httyd 3 #how to train your dragon 3 #httyd: the hidden world #hiccup haddock

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actual-changeling · 5 months

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It was actually rather hard to decide how to begin this meta post because there are essentially going to be two main parts: why Crowley does not actually avoid/run from his problems and why "going off" is not a bad thing regardless.

Then I wrote the first part and realised this is now 2.5k words long, so uhhhh I will grant part 2 its own post.

With that, welcome back to Alex's today-not-unhinged meta corner!

I am going to approach this topic from a psychological angle, which a lot of people have already done, but without explicitly mentioning it or going into depth. All my information comes from personal experience, research, my therapist, and my psychiatrist, just so you know I am not making shit up. I actually dug up some resources my therapist gave me a while ago.

Generally, there are four different fear/survival responses: fight, flight, freeze, and fawn. Most people have probably heard about fight and flight, since those two are usually the only ones that are mentioned/taught, so I will stick to explaining the other two.

"Fawning" refers to actively being submissive and subdued, both physically and emotionally. The goal is to appear non-threatening and to calm whoever is causing the fear response in the first place. It shows up as being overly agreeable, not having thoughts/opinions of your own and ignoring them if you do, your body language changing (e.g., making yourself smaller, taking up less space), and generally attempting to 'keep the peace' or reinstate it.

"Freezing" is pretty much exactly what it says on the tin—you freeze. It means slipping into a dissociative state, which disconnects you from your body, your emotions/mind, and/or the outside world. Usually, people stop being able to talk well or at all, they do not move, and if they do, it is on autopilot; you do not fight or flee, you simply exist until what is causing the fear response is over.

While dissociating, your brain is unable to form full memories—and depending on how heavily you are dissociating, it does not form any memories at all.

Freezing as a response happens when fight, flight, and fawn aren't possible anymore, e.g., a child who has no internal mechanisms to deal with large amounts of fear because it's a child, so the only way to escape the pain and aggressor is by fleeing into your mind and shutting down.

Why am I telling you all this? Because most people tend to have one or two survival responses that dominate/they usually fall back on, and the same goes for Aziraphale and Crowley.

When faced with an outside problem and a lot of stress, Aziraphale's first instinct is to fawn, to placate the person, to diffuse the situation, to make sure everyone is agreeing, or, at the very least, submitting to authority figures or aggressors. It is what heaven teaches them—stick to the rules, don't ask questions, do what you are told. If fawning involves lying, he will do so, here the need for safety is stronger than his desire to be truthful and stick to his morals.

Unfortunately, the fact that this is his primary fear response is also the reason behind his extreme cognitive dissonance. How can you stick to the rules when you do not know what the rules ARE? So he is stuck trying to figure out what is "good" and what is "bad" so he can be a good angel and avoid doing anything that might be seen as bad or disobedient.

His secondary response to stress or fear is to fight—once it's clear that fawning won't work, he can and will switch over to being more direct and aggressive/less submissive. We see that happening when he gets discorporated in season 1 and needs to get back to earth, at the airbase, or when the bookshop gets attacked.

If I were to ask you what you think Crowley's primary fear response is, how would you respond?

Well, if you said "flight"—you're wrong, and I will explain why.

Flight is his secondary fear response, it is what he falls back on in absolute emergencies when everything is doomed and there's nothing he can do anymore.

Before that, though, he fights.

Even as an angel, he was already questioning the system, he was ready to go and tell God she was doing a terrible job, that her ideas were bad, that he wants to keep his stars and the universe— six thousand years are nothing! If you actively oppose existing rules and defy people's authority over you, fighting is the only option you have unless you plan on giving up or the response becomes too much to deal with.

Fear itself happens when you or someone/something you love is being threatened (whether that threat is real or simply perceived as such doesn't matter), plus there are a large number of more irrational fears.

Crowley's creations were threatened -> He goes against the rules, he wants to fight for them.

On the walls of Eden, he questions God and talks to an angel, his hereditary enemy, once again defying the rules, questioning them.

Job and his children were threatened -> He goes against orders to try and save them.

There is good reason to believe he went against God by saving some of the children from the flood.

He showed Jesus the kingdoms of the world—do we really think that was based on orders? No, it was once again Crowley not playing by the rules.

Wessex? He proposes the Arrangement, which is one gigantic "fuck you" in his fight against celestial rules. Everything after that goes back to Crowley knowing that their jobs suck and that they can cheat, fight the system by working together. In 1827, it gets him pulled to hell and punished, and yet he does not stop; he keeps fighting.

Crowley is the one who immediately tries to stop the apocalypse. Aziraphale needs to be talked into it, needs to be convinced with selfish reasons and personal pleasure.

The reason why both heaven and hell absolutely loathe him is not because he is a runner; it's because he constantly and consistently defies them. He fights.

In season two, he immediately tries to deal with the Gabriel problem while Aziraphale is standing behind him and saying "I don't know" to all of his questions. Taking him somewhere so they can figure shit out in peace is not 'running'—it's smart. Sure, it's far from ideal, but we see what keeping him in the bookshop brought them, don't we? The hiding miracle is what tipped heaven and hell off in the first place.

Aziraphale goes to Edinburgh based on a hunch, but once again—did that help? Did his journalist roleplay trip actually provide vital information that solved a single puzzle piece of that mess? No. Finding out that Gabriel was at that pub with some mystery person was a nice fact to know, but that's it.

During the ball, Crowley is scared, vigilant, prowling around the shop, checking windows, telling Aziraphale to "stop this charade" so they can figure out what to do. Aziraphale, in that moment, was already convinced that sticking to the rules would save them—a heavenly embassy on a technicality, surely the group of fallen angels who got booted due to not following heaven's rules will respect that.

Crowley goes to heaven, which is once again him actively looking for a solution, while Aziraphale also falls back on fighting because fawning is not going to do shit.

There are three times during which Crowley suggests fleeing—which is his secondary fear response—but those are exceptions. Let's have a look at them.

The first one is at the bandstand, the evening before the Apocalypse, and since Aziraphale is lying to him, the situation seems hopeless to him. Yet he is still having his 'agents' look for him, is still fighting.

Do you know why he even suggests running? He is about to leave when Aziraphale calls him back with "there isn't anywhere to go," and now allow me to insert the following passage from the scriptbook.

Crowley looks back. He looks at Aziraphale. Above them, a beautiful starry sky. And Crowley softens.

"Big universe. Even if this all ends up in a puddle of burning goo, we could go off together."

The sentence in the show is slightly different, but they have one thing in common: If.

IF the world ends, we can still leave and be together. IF.

Crowley is NOT saying "let's leave", he is presenting Aziraphale with a contingency plan in case stopping the Apocalypse does not work. He is NOT running, he isn't even SUGGESTING to run.

It's a "if the world ends, we can be together. We don't need to be with hell or heaven; we can be in the stars," because remember what the end of the world would mean? Eternal torture for Crowley while Aziraphale bores himself to death in heaven.

The next time he suggests it again—when he stops Aziraphale on the street—several things have happened.

First, he did not leave. If he truly wanted to flee, he would have by now, but he didn't. He sits in a cinema waiting for the end: "Out of time. Out of hope," as Neil puts it. Then Hastur and Ligur show up on screen and tell him, 'You're dead meat, Crowley. You're bloody history. […] We're coming to collect you'.

We all know that means "eternal torture in hell," but if you're not convinced for some reason, have another snippet from the script book that did not make it into the show.

Dagon is speaking from the Bentley's radio while he drives towards the bookshop, saying that something has gone wrong and they're sure he has a 'perfectly reasonable explanation' for it. Once he gets out of the car, however, Dagon still keeps going and says the following:.

"Your explanation, and the circumstances that will accompany it, will provide a source of entertainment for all the damned of hell, Crowley. Because no matter what agonies the damned are suffering, Crowley, you will have it worse."

Crowley already knows that. He has been punished by them before, heard, seen, lived torture, there is no doubt as to what will happen should they catch him. So he does what any person with a single fucking brain cell would do—he tries to get his loved one and FLEE.

Flight is the best response in this situation, and if you need me to explain why, then honestly, I cannot help you anymore. I won't go into detail about Aziraphale's response, but, tl;dr, it was shitty and incredibly hurtful, go figure.

Now, let's get to situation number 3, which is his speech during the final fifteen. We do not have an official script for that, but someone did make transcriptions for all episodes; you can find them here. Additionally, I will copy some of what I already said in a different meta post.

Crowley, stuck in his trauma-induced hypervigilance and paranoia, suggests putting as much distance between them and the problem as possible. I think it is interesting that in ep1 he wants to get Gabriel away from them, while at the end of the season, he is ready to get them away from the problem.

So far, I have never seen anyone mention that change! And it’s important! The entire season, it is hammered into our heads how much they love being on earth. It is THEIR bookshop and THEIR car and THEIR life.

Crowley wants to protect that home, and Gabriel is a threat to it, a threat to both of them, their life, the bookshop—everything. He does not want to leave, he wants his peace and angel in one place.

Yet by allowing Gabriel to stay, Aziraphale destroyed the sense of comfort and safety Crowley had slowly developed over the last few decades. Heaven nipping down every now and then to check in with Aziraphale is very different from him sheltering the Supreme Archangel who is running from ‘something terrible’ without even asking if he’s alright with that.

Aziraphale calls it their bookshop, but he fundamentally still sees it as his space to govern and Crowley as a guest; he even calls it a 'heavenly embassy'.

After another horrible week and having his previously safe space violated by several different times and beings, Crowley is back to where he was before—without a home. That fragile existence broke apart, so he is standing in the heap of shards and telling Aziraphale 'I don’t feel safe here anymore, let’s leave’.

He lost his safe space, but he still has his safe person, his best and only friend, the person he loves. I doubt he cares where exactly they go as long as they’re together and it’s safe.

Returning to heaven—it is the one place Crowley cannot follow him to. It’s literally the worst option, he can’t go back, he won’t go back. So he invokes the bookshop again, if you don’t want to stay for me, stay for the bookshop, your books, your corner of existence that I thought we had carved out for ourselves.

There is a common error that people make regarding the timeline, which is assuming that during this conversation they are already aware of the impending apocalypse—but they aren't. Aziraphale himself has no clue, and while Crowley saw the conversation and trial, he does NOT know when it will happen. For all he knows, it could be tomorrow, could be in a thousand years, and, even if he had been given a date, I doubt they laid out all the details and how to stop it.

Considering that his original plan was "get drunk at the Ritz and then have us time," I don't think he knew literally anything about how or when to stop it. So no, Crowley does NOT suggest running away from earth and leaving it to die.

All he wants is some bloody peace and quiet where no demons, angels, or power-hungry floating heads can interrupt them. A space that is safe and theirs. There are also zero mentions of where he wants them to go; he is not talking about the stars or the universe. He wants to get away from where they currently are because heaven and hell show up uninvited whenever they please.

If your boss and ex-boss constantly kicked down your front door and stated their wish to torture you, would you stay there or would you move? Yeah.

This post got very long, but it was long overdue.

I am tired of seeing people call Crowley a callous coward who always runs away from his problems when he is the literal opposite. You take three sentences said under exceptional circumstances and apply them to Crowley as a whole, when it is nothing but his last ditch effort to keep himself and Aziraphale safe.

One last thing: If you come onto my post and start aggressively arguing about this, I will block you. Genuine discussions and questions are always welcome, being a dick is not, and I also simply cannot handle some of the rhetoric people in this fandom perpetuate because it's very triggering.

Make your own post, don't do it on mine.

#alex talks good omens #good omens #ineffable husbands #good omens meta #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable divorce #the final fifteen #crowley meta #aziraphale meta #crowley deserves better treatment from this fandom #and people that actually remember canon and don't take some fanfic version of him they have created during the hiatus #so many straight up factually incorrect takes #i dont know if i will make it until season 3 guys

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gildedlead · 4 months

Text

All of the Wayne kids’ favorite Leaguers: True and Real and Accurate

Dick: Wonder Woman! Bear with me. Please. I think Superman was his favorite BEFORE he met Clark. Once he learned how big of a dork he was, the magic was sort of lost, doubly so when Clark became his unofficial stepdad. Diana? She stayed cool. Not to mention that in his Robin days, she often humored whatever hare-brained impulses he’d get. Please picture Batman’s bewildered expression when he finds Dick dangling from the Watchtower light fixture he specifically designed to be impossible for him to reach. Diana just, -shrug- “He said please.” You threw him Diana. You threw that child. She’d probably still throw him if he asked nicely, hell, she’d probably do it even before he has to ask. It’s ‘Boy Wonder’, not ‘Boy Bat’.

Jason: Black Canary. ‘Wonder Woman is Jason’s fav’ believers PLEASE hear me out. I think that Diana is Jason’s favorite in a ‘celebrity crush’ way, but Dinah is Jason’s favorite in a ‘cool aunt’ way. He met her unofficially at the Watchtower, but actually started hanging out with her thanks to Roy. They both like motorcycles and kicking ass, plus Young Justice having Canary as a therapist melds well with my vision of her helping Jason heal. And I think she’s used to yelling at Bruce on Oliver’s behalf, so it’s no big to do it on Jason’s too.

Tim: The Flash! If Dinah is the cool aunt, Barry is the cool uncle. Guy that shows up at the function with all the best snacks. He might eat half of them himself but damn if he didn’t bring them. In all seriousness, Tim saw pretty great merit in knowing a forensics guy that he can basically talk to anytime he’s stumped with a case without having to go through the “sorry to wake you” song and dance. Barry occasionally gets unhinged texts that are in the vein of “hey can you go about ten minutes back in time and tell past me about _____”. They’re usually pretty low stakes but sometimes there’s just a “got stabbed, do-over?” jumpscare sprinkled in. Bruce will never ever get shit from Barry about kid troubles. That man is a saint in Flash’s eyes.

Cass: Captain Marvel. She didn’t like him at all during their first meeting. For a person that’s good at reading body language, I imagine that seeing genuinely childish behavior on a grown man would be giving some crazy mixed signals. Once she learns that his powers are magic in origin rather than being alien or meta, her mind opens up a little more to the possibility that his exterior appearance might not be indicative of his actual identity. Cass guesses his age by their next proper meeting and makes it her business to keep an eye on him, always asking Bruce about him after he returns from League missions. Your honor, that 7’5” brick wall Champion of Magic is actually just Cass’ little buddy. She’s gonna get him some ice cream or something.

Steph: Green Lantern. Hal and Barry are like uncles, except if Barry is the cool one, Hal is the cringe one. Lucky for Hal, being a boyfailure is a good way to amuse Steph. Those two are gonna spend hours arguing with Bruce just for the hell of it, backing each other up on completely incorrect claims (Steph does it because it’s funny, Hal does it because he believes her). He does get bonus points for bringing her cool space snacks whenever he comes back from trips off-world. One of her favorite foods is a sort of hi-chew/gum thing from some other planet in Sector 2418 that doesn’t dissolve or lose its flavor, even after chewing it for days on end.

Damian: Aquaman. He’s a king. Like, an actual king. And he can communicate with fish. Arthur heard about Damian’s temper from the rest of the Leaguers and straight up does not believe it because every time he’s spoken to Damian, it’s been “hello your majesty can you introduce me to an octopus I have a few questions for it”. This one’s short. But I feel it speaks for itself.

Duke: Superman. Clark was NOT told about Signal taking up the day shift in Gotham until he was flying in to compare notes (read: flirt), with Bruce and met Duke when they both went to intercept a carjacking. Clark tries to be responsible like “I feel obligated to let you know that Batman doesn’t take kindly to metas in his city”, only for Duke to point at the big ol bat on his chest. After that, Duke usually intercepts Big Blue’s flight path anytime he comes into Gotham and the two just kind of hang out and shoot the shit while he does his patrol. Duke is also a little bit stoked to be regularly hanging out with The Superman, but even after the awe wears off, he can’t help but still think of Clark as just a cool, friendly guy. He gets someone to share the airspace with, Clark gets a bat he can stay in the sun with, it’s a win/win all around. Congrats Clark, you got one.

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kneelingshadowsalome · 4 months

Note

Please can I have a little crumblet of my hubby in therapy 😭🥰

You can have an entire snippet!! 💕💋

“Would you like to talk about these bad experiences?”

“Not really.”

He realizes he’s coming off as rude, and gruffly adds with a shrug: “There’s nothing to talk about. It was a bad experience.”

You look at him now, mirroring the up and down glance he just gave you, and he starts to shake his leg. An involuntary action that tells you he feels like this situation resembles an interrogation. When your gaze slowly drops to his boot bouncing in the air under that chair, it stops.

He doesn’t like it that he got caught being slightly nervous. He makes it clear that he knows what you just did, that you were evaluating him just with your stare, and that he doesn’t like it one bit.

You could almost swear from this little scenario alone that Simon Riley has a background that includes some form of torture.

You scribble another word on your notebook.

Hypervigilant. Suspicious?

“Do you have nightmares?”

“Sometimes.”

“What kind of nightmares?”

He takes a longish pause, directs those vigilant eyes to the floor for a moment. The leg gives another shake, then another shake.

“The regular. Trapped inside a crashed vehicle or plane. Can’t get out and then I wake up feeling like I can’t get air.”

You put it up: regular nightmares about suffocating to death.

“Then there’s the occasional dream where I strangle women.”

You pause in the middle of writing, then quickly return to what you were doing.

Okay... Okay. Nothing too unusual, you can do this. You try to keep your breaths long and even as you raise your stare and your professional compassion to him.

“Would you like to elaborate more on that?”

He huffs a dark, short chuckle.

“No. But I guess I have to.”

He thinks he has to tell you about his nightmares about hurting women only because that’s far more concerning than the occasional dreams of being caught in a death trap. Or then he wants you to say it’s ok and that they are only dreams.

You draw a breath, but it's he who speaks first.

“I would never hurt a woman in real life.”

You tilt your head, this time with genuine compassion. It’s simply the human in you: the woman in you. One of your whimsical new age friends said you're a wounded healer and that you should be careful before you start mothering another emotionally unavailable, broken man. That you ought to date someone sensible for once.

You fight the urge to shake those thoughts off – you’re not planning to date this man. You can’t date your clients, it’s the first rule of being a therapist. Well, perhaps not the first, but still, you’re not here to save–

“Don’t know what to do with those dreams. It's just… Is wha’ it is.”

You take another deep breath. “How does it–”

“Make me feel?” He huffs. It’s not what you were going to ask, but you’re pleased to see he’s being co-operative. In his own way.

“Disgusting. Makes me feel disgusted with myself.”

“These are just dreams. As long as you don’t make them reality, they’re just dreams.”

“Yeah. I know.”

Your lips draw into a thin line, and you can’t help yourself from scribbling another thing down.

Arrogant.

“What did I do now?” He asks, trying to direct the conversation elsewhere. Or then he’s genuinely curious. What was it in his Yeah, I know that was so telling, so monumental? You notice that you’re smiling softly as you draw him back to the session in hand.

“How have you dealt with these feelings of shame and disgust?”

He blinks.

“Guess I haven’t. What would doctor suggest?”

“I’m not a doctor. But I would suggest you introduce yourself to mercy every time you have these nightmares.”

“Mercy,” he repeats, a bit flabbergasted. His voice lacks the commanding, rough tone it usually has when he knows he’s one step ahead.

“Yes. How does that feel?” You could hit yourself on the forehead for using such a cliche line. You continue before he gets to return it all back to you with a jab. “Does the word mercy incite anything particular in you?”

“I dunno. Haven’t found it useful.”

His answer is typical for a soldier and a commander of his team. But you see that you’ve at least planted a seed. The word mercy will probably be on his mind even when he goes to sleep tonight.

“And why is that?”

“It’s a luxury I can’t afford,” he shrugs nonchalantly. A tough world view, as was expected, and you move on to the question everyone either hates or loves the most.

“How would you describe your childhood? Your relationship with your mother and father?”

He gives a short laugh. “That didn’t take long.”

“Some of these questions might seem unimportant right now but I hope you would answer them nonetheless. Could you do that for me?”

The last line is not your usual go, but with this client, you have a hunch that a little bit of charm might go a long way. And you just can’t help yourself. Of course, the results are immediate.

“Sure, miss,” he drags every syllable like he’s tasting champagne on his tongue. “Childhood… Not a very happy one. Father was a drinker. Cheated on my mum.”

#ghost in therapy #wips

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

Note

AITA for lying to my boss about my sexuality?

English is not my first language so please bear with me. Also, long post.

For context: I'm (30F) doing something like an unpaid virtual internship to graduate with my technical degree. I don't think there's an equivalent in the US of this but it's close enough. The thing is that is an obligatory step to graduate. If I didn't get a company to do it, my boss "fails" me (he has to give feedback to the institute for me to pass) or if I quit before finishing I have to pay for an extra semester to do it again.

Since the beginning, I found my boss annoying, he has that know-it-all kind of attitude and doesn't really accept others' opinions. I didn't think much of it and figured it didn't matter since it was just for 4 months and I was out. I carried on, became the leader of one of the teams of interns, and started to work more closely with him and the other team leaders because of it.

After the first month, he started to become inappropriate. Once I sent him a text for feedback on a report my team and I had to make, he sent me an audio and I resend it to my team because it was good feedback. When I told him this, he "jokingly" asked why would I do that, and what if he had sent me something "dirty". I was stunned. I ignored that comment and said it was good and that's why I sent it.

In another opportunity, he texted me that in another life he would marry me when I was reporting in Google Meet about my team. I ignored it again, didn't answer, and kept talking at the reunion. More recently, he sent me a text saying "I like you" and then changed it to "I like it" in response to a paper he had asked me for and then deleted the original text.

I talked about this with my therapist, friends, and brothers, and all of them advised me to keep ignoring his comments and report him to my institute once the internship was over. So I wouldn't have to do another semester in case he got offended by me rejecting his advances and failed me.

I agreed with that. But in the last couple of months, he started to do these "jokes" in the reunions we have with the other interns. Saying things like we texted each other about dirty things. I always say it's a lie and he laughs but it rubs me wrong because I don't want my peers to think I'm in my position as a result of our boss having the hots for me.

With all that being said, last Thursday we were in a reunion with just the team leaders, and he "jokingly" made this comment about how he and I talk after hours more intimately. I was having a bad day and about had it with his stupid comments, so I grabbed my cup (I was drinking tea. It has a rainbow kind of design) and said "This doesn't say anything to you?" implying that I'm a lesbian. While I am not straight, I'm not actually homosexual, I just wanted him to stop. He laughed it off saying he already knew and such and then we kept going with the reunion.

After we were done, he asked me to stay in the Google Meet and told me again he already knew that I was a lesbian that he was always joking around when he said some things to me, and that it would be weird if he didn't because he does it with everyone else. In these almost 4 months, I never heard him say anything to anyone else.

I just have a week left until I'm done and I feel awful for lying about something like that. I don't think I'll come clean, but it's been bothering me. So, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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cordeliawhohung · 5 months

Text

Sun Bleached Flies - Part 1

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader - part ten of "soft spot"

Healing never comes as fast and easy as you want it to, but you try and adjust to your new life as best as you can. The thing is, there is no going back, there is only going forward, no matter how much you wished it was otherwise.

warnings: PTSD, angst, minor comfort, panic and anxiety attacks, spook and simon are going through it.

wc: 6.6k

A gentle breeze danced through the open window of his therapist’s office, bringing the scent of spring with it.

Moist grass, a hint of rain, freshly bloomed flowers; all hints of something new being born. Except this wasn’t new for Simon. Sitting in an overly calm and quiet room in a chair that was too soft as a man who looked too ancient for this earth flipped through notes of their previous sessions.

This wasn’t Simon’s first time in therapy, and he was certain it wouldn’t be his last. After everything he had endured over the winter, he was required to attend sessions before he would be allowed to return back to active duty. He had only started a few weeks ago, as most of his energy and time had gone into taking care of you, but once you were well enough to go back to work, well, it was time to take care of himself.

“How was your week, lieutenant?” the man spoke up after finally putting his notes down. His name was Gus, and was ex-military. Or, at least Simon assumed he was, judging by the deep and long wrinkled scars that littered his face and the unceremonious use of his rank. “Anything new?”

“It was alright,” he answered bluntly. He was never quite good with the awkward small talk that came with therapy. Something about how he was supposed to bare his darkest secrets just to talk about the weather was unnerving. “Spook started physical therapy this week.”

Usually, Simon never used that nickname Johnny coined for you, but ever since you were taken, he felt as if he couldn’t use your real name. That sharing anything about you was forbidden. Or maybe he was just being selfish, wanting to keep you, even your name, all to himself.

“At least she’s in some sort of therapy,” Gus said dryly. “She still refusing counseling?”

He nodded solemnly. “Says she doesn’t think she can talk about it yet.”

Gus grunted a little as he sat forward in his chair. A pair of frail and shaky hands reached up to remove the oversized glasses on his face before he settled his foggy eyes back on Simon. “Does she talk about it with you?”

“Tries,” he responded sourly. “She used to talk so much about everything; everything except for whatever was hurtin’ her. Always thought she’d tell me eventually, whenever she was ready. But after this shit? I’m fuckin’ lucky to get anything out of her. Even the good stuff.”

Instead of prompting him with another question, Gus stayed quiet as he stared at Simon, and he knew what it meant. That man must have been in the business of fixing broken soldiers for quite some time because it never took him long to figure out what was bothering him. Always struck gold on the first shovelful of dirt. Might as well make things easy and give up the rest.

“Everything that I’ve learned about her past I’ve had to piece together myself,” Simon explained. “Her moms passing she told me herself, but I know her previous partner was a right piece of shit. Judging by the way she hardly ever talks about her father, he probably was no better. She hasn’t told me anything about when she was taken, or what they did to her. There’s some stuff I can figure out. God, there was fuckin’ photographic proof on the damn floor.” He paused for a moment and shook his head as if trying to get his thoughts back in order. “She tries but then just shuts down and I… fuck, I dunno.”

“And what have you told her?” Gus asked as he leaned back in his chair.

Eyebrows drawing together and cheeks scrunching under his mask, Simon tilted his head to the side. “What?”

“I mean, what have you told her? About your past, or your family? Are you making her play the same guessing games?” Gus pressed.

A lump formed in Simon’s throat so thick he thought he would choke on it. He wanted to say that sharing his past was different. How was he supposed to talk about the torture he endured, the hook tearing through his ribs, the slaughter of his family? How their deaths were pinned on him, and he burnt away the evidence of them; what would you say to that? Or if you knew about his revenge, how he traversed a jungle just to kill a man?

He grimaced. Hadn’t you already seen his revenge?

“You’ve been pretty open with me so far, lieutenant, and that’s a lot more than I can say for most of the men I see in here,” Gus continued, “so tell me; what is it that you’re really afraid of?”

Really, therapy wasn’t all too different from being interrogated. In both circumstances, there was someone trying to poke and prod around inside of his head. And in both circumstances, it was never fun when they poked the right spot.

“I don’t want her to think I’m like them,” he finally admitted.

“Her abductors?” Gus clarified. “Why would she think that?”

“I broke a man's arm and shot him as I had him pinned to the ground. Right in front of her,” Simon explained as if he saw Bukin dying all over again. Heard the bone snap and the crunching sound of his flesh grinding underneath his boot. Watched as his head jumped dully against the ground as the bullet tore through his skill.

“You saved her life,” Gus countered.

“I was violent,” he spat.

“So were they.”

“I’m supposed to be better than them.”

“If you were better than them, she’d be dead, son.”

Silence. The breeze continued to drift through the open window, attempting to kiss Simon’s flesh through his clothes, too kind for him to be deserving of it. He continued to stare through the old man as he waited for him to explain himself.

“You brought her home alive. You know better than anyone that being soft comes with consequences. Some good, some bad. Be violent, be a monster; be Ghost in the moments when you’re doing your job. When you’re protecting the ones you love.” Throughout his last few weeks of therapy, Simon hadn’t heard the old man speak with such conviction until that moment. Like the man spoke from experience. “Be soft when you’re with her. Share the stuff that hurts. It sounds like you’re the closest person she has. Certainly the strongest. How is she supposed to be vulnerable with you when you’re the one who’s scared?”

The thing Simon hated the most about therapy was hearing things he already knew but was trying to ignore. Everything would have been so much easier had he let you ramble that night the oxycodone had scrambled your brain. But it was his fault things had gotten that way in the first place. That picture of you that he kept despite his better judgment, leading Bukin right to your door; that was his fault. Selfish of him to hope that you’d be the one vulnerable first as if he didn’t have something to atone for.

Simon let out a heavy sigh as he looked down at his hands. The old man was right, and it was frustrating. “Christ,” he muttered.

“Start with the small stuff. You don’t have to air everything out all at once. Actually, it would be better if you didn’t. Don’t want to overwhelm the poor girl,” Gus assured him. “Remember, she’s a civilian. She didn’t have the resources and training that you did going into that.”

He didn’t spend much longer in that office before Gus sent him away to do his homework: figure out a memory to share with you. Sounded easy enough, but when he had spent countless years keeping things to himself so as to keep others safe, it was near painful. But he tried his best to think of something as he made his way back to the apartment.

You weren’t there when he got home. Not that he had expected you to be, though it still felt wrong. As soon as your wound was no longer needing constant attention, you instantly hopped back into work. He tried to dissuade you from doing so, saying that he’d still have more than enough money to pay for everything, but you wouldn’t hear any of it. Claimed you were tired of being locked up in the apartment all day, even if he was there with you. Though it worried him, he couldn’t blame you, not after everything that had happened there. Every now and then he still found a small, green bead somewhere on the living room floor.

A sigh left him as he stood in the entryway, staring at Boo who watched him curiously from the couch. The window had been left cracked open, and it looked like the little guy had been enjoying some fresh air. Simon tried to tell you that leaving the blinds open was just asking for someone to snitch that you had a cat in the apartment. You had retorted by saying boarded up windows made for a shitty home.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he mumbled to himself.

This was going to be a pain in his ass.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

“This guy is getting on my fucking nerves.”

That was the fucking understatement of the year. Méabh lazily leaned against your desk as she glared over at the new branch manager they had hired during your absence. His name was Jace, and he liked to spend his time at work micromanaging all of his employees, including Cheryl, who was able to wire money with her eyes closed after so many years in the business. The poor woman looked like she was one more annoying comment from smacking the overbearing manager.

“He told me I didn’t ask enough security questions on the last transfer I did as if I didn’t ask all the ones that popped up on the screen,” Méabh continued in a droning grumble. “I wish Anna was still here. She did her job and wasn’t a complete cunt about it.”

“Just be glad that you only work part time,” you teased while trying to focus on your paperwork.

“Yeah, for now,” Méabh whined. “I’ll be going full time over summer holiday. Means I’ll get to see this prick twice as often.”

Really, it wasn’t Jace’s hawk-like gaze, or even his annoying nasally voice that got on your nerves. It was his shoes. While most of the girls at the bank wore flats to save themselves from achy feet, Jace wore terribly loud dress shoes. Whenever he walked, it sounded like he wore high heels with the way they clacked on the floor, and with how much he stomped around it was impossible for him to sneak up on anyone.

“Are you almost done?” Méabh then prompted. “I wanna get out of here.”

“You don’t have to wait for me, you know,” you chuckled.

“Thought I’d do the noble thing and keep you company. You know, unless you want Jace to read over your paperwork before you submit it,” she retorted with a playful roll of her eyes.

“How kind of you.”

Luckily for Méabh, or perhaps the both of you, you had just typed up the finishing touches to your work. Not even a minute later the whirring of your computer died down as you shut it off for the night and stood from your desk. However, you made the mistake of pushing with both your hands, and you winced as a zapping pain shot through your left shoulder. Even after all those months, your wound hadn’t fully healed.

“You alright?” Méabh asked as you gathered your items.

“Yeah,” you said, slightly winded. Glancing quickly over at Jace, and poor Cheryl who was still stuck listening to his ramble, you looked back at the young girl before nodding towards the door. “Let’s get out of here.”

Without saying goodbye, or saving your co-worker, you and Méabh slipped out of the building unnoticed and into the fresh spring air. Or, at least as fresh as it could get in the midst of London. It had been months since you last smelt real fresh air. When had it been, back at the end of August when you and Simon had gone on holiday? With the beautiful seaside and mist that tasted like salt? Or was it…

No. No, that couldn’t be right.

“Need a ride?” Méabh prompted.

You pulled your head out of the frigid water, dusted the sand off your knees, and smiled politely as you adjusted the blazer that perfectly complimented your pristine work clothes. You always had a way of bringing yourself back to reality if it meant avoiding an awkward conversation. Always so calm and put together, even with fragments of a bullet still stuck in your body.

“No, I’ll, uhm, just walk home. Thanks,” you excused as your eyes glanced out at the busy streets ahead.

Saying goodbye was awkward. Hell, everything was awkward those days. But like you did with all things in your life, you gritted your teeth and bared it before starting your walk home.

It was strange trying to remember how you used to fit into the world before everything. Sure, you never quite fit in beforehand, squeezing into places too small for you to exist in, but it had become home. But not then. Your edges had become warped, curling in on themselves, retracting into your body. Your piece of the puzzle had shrunk, but everything else stayed the same size, leaving you stuck with a gap that separated you from everyone else.

You were a watcher; a stranger to the very earth that nourished you. You could hear the seagulls rummaging through a pile of rubbish left beside the bin, and you could see the vibrant valley flowers that took up the window of the florist's shop on your left, but it was… blurry. Fuzzy, like the tingling sensation that plagued your arm every now and then when the blood flow was bad. You tried to focus, do anything to make the imagery around you feel sharper, but the faces of pedestrians were empty, like nobody around you was real, least of all yourself.

And then you were home.

It was difficult to tell how long you were standing outside of the door, staring at the empty wood as if it was a mirror. You had just sort of appeared there, like some sort of ghost. Without taking your eyes off of the door, you dug your hand into your bag and blindly felt around for your keys. A part of you couldn’t help but wonder if this was the view Leon had before kidnapping you. Before drugging you and taking you to that fucking basement.

No. Bukin. Simon told you his last name was Bukin, and you weren’t going to give your dead captor the pleasure of using his first name as if you had been friends.

Eventually the keys ended up in the lock and you entered the apartment. A heavy aroma of seasoned chicken filled the air around you, and you heard quiet cursing coming from the kitchen. You rounded the corner and were greeted by Simon cooking at the stove and Boo trying his hardest to trip the poor man. The critter stareed up at him with big, begging eyes as he followed your lovers every step.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted, quickly glancing away from his work to look at you.

“You two look busy,” you chuckled, tossing your bag onto the counter.

“I’m busy,” Simon corrected before tossing a playful glare down at the poor cat by his feet. “He’s a menace.”

Humming, you stood next to Simon and glanced at what he had on the stove. It was pretty common for you to come home from work with dinner already started, if not finished. Simon had become something of a chef since taking care of you, and he had some pasta boiling and some chicken frying. He had started eating a lot more protein and carbs since going back to the gym, attempting to gain back the strength he had lost while captured.

“He’s just a baby,” you said, reaching a hand towards the hot pan. With careful fingers, you tore off a small bit of the chicken before blowing on it a little to cool it down. Boo had already stretched up to reach up your thigh by the time you had bent down to give it to him. After a few deep sniffs, he eagerly took it in his mouth and ran off.

“Spoiled rotten, he is,” Simon mumbled.

“He was being so patient,” you cooed, watching as Boo scarfed down his treat in the corner of the kitchen, as if afraid someone would take it from him.

“Patient, my arse,” he chuckled.

A dull beep sounded from the stove, which Simon quickly pressed a button to shut it off. With a twist of the dial, he turned the heat off of one of the burners and you heard the sound of boiling water quiet down before he moved it towards the sink to strain it. As hot steam billowed upwards, you turned your attention towards one of the cabinets where you found yourself reaching up for it. A small stack of china sat on the lowest shelf. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had actually set the table yourself.

“Don’t worry ‘bout that, sweetheart,” Simon said as he sat the still steaming pot on the counter next to the sink.

Shooting him a weird look, you continued in your pursuit. “I can handle getting plates, Simon.”

And you did. Grabbed two plates right off the shelf and held them in your hands as you looked at him as if in a challenge. But you understood why he was still so… skittish. He had spent the last few months doing everything for you. Bathing you, dressing you, making your food; he did it all. It almost felt more vulnerable than bleeding out on cold grass. A burden, that’s what you had become. Just another pet for someone to take care of. And Simon didn’t mind it, you knew that; he never did. Still, it was difficult to rot away in that apartment in good conscience knowing he was caring for someone who more than likely should have been a corpse by the ocean.

Saying nothing, Simon turned his attention back to his work as you walked towards the dining table. You hadn’t even made it halfway there before something crumbled inside of you. A shooting pain ran up and down your left arm, searing your nerves and burning away your flesh. A tingling numbness settled over your hand and the plates you tried to hold so carefully slipped right through your fingers where they shattered on the ground at your feet with a deafening crash.

Your gasp was cut off by a short whimper as your hand reached up to press against your old, yet still aggravated wound. You kept the pressure there as if trying to keep yourself from spilling on the floor, and you looked down at the mess you made.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you cursed. You pulled your hand away from under your arm and looked at your hand as if expecting blood.

“You alright?” Simon asked, heavy footsteps trailing across the floor behind you.

“I’m fine,” you spat, words sharp enough to tear through flesh.

The footsteps behind you stopped, and it forced you to realize the bite in your tone. It also made you realize how your hand trembled and heart stung as if you were afraid, as if you had been running. In an attempt to calm your nerves, you let out a heavy sigh before looking down at the mess you made. A terrible mosaic of broken glass and a now slightly chipped wooden floor spanned the area around your feet. You had ruined two perfectly good plates, damaged the floor, and you were the one snapping?

So much like your father. Being angry at the mess when it was your own fault.

“I’m… fine,” you tried again, softer this time. Empty. “Sorry, I… didn’t mean to…”

When Simon continued to walk towards you, you half expected him to reach for you, and some strange part of you didn’t want him to. Didn’t want his touch. Couldn’t stand it because you knew you didn’t deserve it. Instead, he knelt on the ground next to you, large fingers carefully picking up the bigger pieces of the shattered plates and gathering them into the palm of his hand.

“You don’t have to clean up my mess,” you said softly, lip trembling as you knelt down next to him to mirror his actions.

“I know,” he replied simply. He still cleaned anyway.

Anger was a weird thing for you. It wasn’t often that you felt it without some other emotion accompanying it. Confusion. Frustration. Grief. Shame usually followed shortly after. Truth was, you were angry all the time those days, and it was worse than almost any other emotion you could have experienced. When you had first started your road to recovery, you felt numb, and when you didn’t feel numb you felt terrified. A part of you wished you were still in that stage because you could at least explain why you felt that way. Some sort of self preservation mode your body had forced itself into in an attempt to smother the trauma you had endured over several long weeks. The anger that hid itself away in your chest was something you couldn’t explain. You didn’t know why it was there, but you wished it wasn’t.

So you stayed silent as you assisted Simon in cleaning up the shattered plates. It had remained mostly in several large chunks, but there were smaller, more fine pieces that you’d have to use a broom for. You hated that your hands shook for each piece you reached out for.

“I broke one of my mum’s vases when I was a kid,” Simon said unprompted. You found yourself pausing. As you held what pieces you had gathered in your hand, you glanced over at him, and he must have felt your gaze because his eyes flickered to you before focusing back on his work. “Was an accident. Kickin’ around a football in the living room when she told me not to. I tried to hide it from her until I could fix it, but she knew immediately it was missing.”

“Was she mad?” you asked.

It felt… odd. Strange. Nice. In all the years you had been with Simon, neither of you had really talked about your pasts. All you had gotten or shared were fragments. And there he was, picking up your mess, showing some raw part of himself you had never seen before.

“Upset, but not mad. She never got mad, even when she should have,” he replied, voice unwavering.

A thick lump had formed in your throat that was difficult to swallow. Something fuzzy tingled in the back of your mind, like something was trying to rip a chunk of flesh out of you; a memory. Teeth sinking into the inside of your cheek, you swallowed again before speaking.

“My… father broke a lot of plates when I was younger,” you admitted, staring down at the chunks of china in your hands. “Usually to get a reaction out of my mom. They were her mother’s, my grandmother’s, plates. Eventually she had to end up buying plastic plates when he had smashed them all, but that didn’t stop him from throwing them. He was always…”

So predictable.

Hadn’t you just said that not too long ago? After the shattering of a bowl? More broken china to stain the ground, the carpet, in that basement. You remembered his glare, Erik’s glare - Adakskin - when you told him he was predictable. And you were right. He had done everything you knew he would. A broken dish was always followed by pain. It didn’t matter. It never did. A broken dish was always followed by pain, even if you were the one breaking it.

Eyes watering, you coughed a little as a sharp tickle formed in your throat. Simon, whose eyes had been on you, glanced over his shoulder to see a fair bit of thick steam and light smoke rising out of the pan he had been cooking chicken in. Cursing, he stood to his feet and quickly tossed the pieces of china he had gathered into the trash before moving the pan off the heat.

And just like that, you were back. Still kneeling, still cleaning, still quiet. Your life had become nothing but a blur of time; living in the past and present at the same time. Even at work, at home, with Simon, the past held onto you so violently you weren’t sure you would ever be able to shake it off. You tried telling yourself you could - that you would - but once again you were cleaning up a broken plate. Always cleaning but never clean.

“Hope you like crispy chicken,” Simon sighed. Spatula in hand, he attempted to scrape the burnt meat off of the pan.

Once you ensured every single shard had been picked up, you turned your attention towards the kitchen for a split moment. You attempted a smile, but it felt too big on your face, so you got rid of it the moment it formed.

“I’m gonna change out of my work clothes,” you said instead, crossing through the kitchen to head towards the bedroom. “I’ll, uh… I’ll let you get the plates this time.”

He didn’t say anything in response as you vanished down the hallway, but he kept his eyes on you. His lips tightened into a thin line for a moment before relaxing once more and turning his attention back to dinner. He knew this stage of healing was going to be the hardest. The body had a way of mending wounds that the mind just couldn’t mimic with trauma. That conversation had been the most he was able to get out of you in months, and you still looked terrified.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

It had been years since Simon had last smoked a cigarette. He used to smoke regularly when he first joined up, especially more so after his family was killed. It was a good way to keep himself awake on missions, or for avoiding nightmares. He quit when the withdrawal symptoms got bad and he had difficulty with cardio during PT. Now he smoked for the alleviation of stress, even if it only lasted for a moment. Or maybe he did it just to keep his hands moving. No matter the reason, it didn’t change the smoke curling in his lungs as he took drag after drag.

Something had been on his mind since you dropped those plates at dinner the previous night. The empty look in your eyes haunted him almost as bad as the shaking of your hands. It was getting worse. Or, at least, it wasn’t getting better, and that terrified him. He didn’t know what to do to help you short of dragging you off to some therapist, which he knew wouldn’t do any good. Something was building. Something was going to burst, and he didn’t know when, but the pressure was there and there was nothing he could do about it.

So there he stood, off in some secluded area on base, smoking his cigarette with a jaw so tense there were indentations of his teeth on the filter. It didn’t take him long to finish it, and when it had been stomped into the ground with the heel of his boot, he was half tempted to smoke another. Keeping the pack in his pocket, he released a heavy sigh before marching back towards the building that housed his office.

Avoiding as many people in the halls as he could, he quickly unlocked the door and shut it as soon as he slipped inside. The air felt stale, like no one had entered to clean his space in his absence, which was probably for the best anyway. He flicked the light on, and it struggled to fill the room, being dimmer than he remembered it being, but it was enough for the moment. With a press of a button, his computer started to whirr to life, and he sat in his chair as he waited for it to boot up. It had great difficulty starting, and he could hear his SSD grind and whine after being shut off for so many months.

Eventually the monitor lit up, and Simon wasted no time logging in before opening his browser. The last time he had used this computer he had spent all his time and energy searching through houses and apartments and hotel rooms in search of where you were being held. Now, he found himself looking at houses and apartments again, but for a different reason.

He needed to get you out of there; out of the apartment the two of you had been staying in. Too many bad memories stained the walls for either of you to do any sort of healing. And so he searched and searched and found his frustration growing. A one bedroom apartment for 3,000 a month? Christ, the housing in that fucking city was astronomically expensive, and sure he could afford it, but for a single damn room?

So he kept searching. It was difficult trying to find someplace that wasn’t halfway across the city from base that was also still close to your work. He’d hate for you to have to take the tube alone, or walk too far alone at night in the city, especially dressed as fancy as bankers usually were. Of course there was always housing on base, but he wouldn’t be able to bring you with because the two of you weren’t married.

Your wife; they are relocating her.

Even after all that time he could see that woman clearly, whoever she had been, sitting on the floor of the room you were supposed to be in. At the time he tried to shake off the way that statement made him feel. Behind the anger, frustration, and fear, there was something else there. Wife. He had liked the term. He wished it was true. Then he remembered the photos in front of her. Your face; your gorgeous face, trapped in that Polaroid. The tears and blood that stained your cheeks and lips, the way an unforgiving hand gripped your jaw, forcing you to look at the lens.

Wife. He wanted that, craved it. But that wasn’t the time, not after everything that had happened.

Simon wasn’t brought out of his thoughts until someone knocked on his door, where he found himself glaring at the big hunk of wood. He hadn’t been there in months, and most people should have known that, so why was someone trying to bother him? Still, he gave them a gruff order to come in and he was quickly greeted by Johnny’s wide eyed expression.

“You’re back?” Johnny asked breathlessly as he shut the door behind him.

Well, at least out of everyone that it could have been, it was him.

“Not yet,” he replied simply. His chair squeaked as he leaned back in it in an attempt to relax some. He tried to make a mental reminder to use some WD-40 on it later. “How’d you know I was here?”

Johnny used his thumb to point over his shoulder at the door behind him. “Was on my way to storage to put some files away,” he explained simply, simultaneously shaking the manilla folder in his hand. “Walked by and saw the light peeking from under the door. Figured someone was cleaning, but knocked just in case.” He took a few cautious steps forward, as if approaching a skittish cat. “How’s everything?”

Simon wasn’t quite sure how to answer that question. Things certainly weren’t great, but they could be worse. For example, you could be dead, or still hospitalized. But saying things were great was far from the truth, and he wasn’t exactly keen on explaining every little issue that had been plaguing him as of late.

“It’s an adjustment,” he admitted instead, “but we’re getting there.”

Johnny nodded, getting even closer to his lieutenant. “Spook doin’ alright, then?”

Even after all that time, Simon still didn’t like talking about you with other people, even if it was Johnny. Hell, even talking about you to his therapist made him feel tense. But he couldn’t hold onto you like that forever, keeping you caged in the safeness of his arms where you were supposed to be safe. And he had to come to the realization that his sergeant deserved to know. Simon had been there the entire time; through the hospital, through your healing. The last time Johnny had seen you, you were bleeding out on your way to the nearest hospital.

“She’s back to work. Started physical therapy this week, too,” Simon explained, though he wasn’t sure how much more he could say.

That small bit of information seemed to mean the whole world to Johnny, and his face lit up. “Good, that’s good! Glad she’s doin’ better.” Then, his eyes darted to the monitor. He caught sight of the rental listings lined up on the screen, as well as their crazy high prices. “Searchin’ for a new home?”

Simon’s attention turned back to the computer for a moment where he let a heavy sigh escape him. “Yeah. Figured it was about time I got her out of there. The apartment. Wanted to get her out sooner, but couldn’t when she was still hurt.”

“It woulda been a lot for her to adjust to at once,” Johnny agreed.

Things fell silent for a moment as both men lost themselves in their thoughts, but only for a short moment before Johnny adjusted the folder in his hand.

“Well, I’ll let you continue searching,” he excused himself as he took a step back. “Gotta get this to storage eventually.”

Simon was one second away from wishing the man well before watching him leave his office, but something stopped him. He knew that if he was alone again, his thoughts would go right back to where they were before. That woman in the room. Pictures of you on the floor. The blood. The Polaroids. That fucking hand that gripped your face - the hand that had no fucking right to touch you. Those goddamn pictures.

“I’ll come with,” Simon said, already shutting his computer down.

Eyebrows drawing together, Johnny tilted his head to the side as he paused his retreat. “You sure?”

There was no room for argument. Everything in his office was quickly shut down and put away, and the two men walked through the halls of the building. There were a few familiar faces that threw Simon odd glances, as if surprised to see him there, or perhaps surprised he was still alive. His name was Ghost for a reason.

Neither man said anything to one another until they reached the storage room. Shelves lined up like dominos and spanned all the way to the back wall where an industrial sized paper shredder sat. Large white cardboard boxes rested on the shelves with simple flip open tops, each labeled with either a case or date of some sort. Painfully white lights washed out the entire room, causing Johnny to squint for a moment before his eyes adjusted.

“Hate sorting through this shit,” he muttered as he began to wander through the aisles.

Simon stood in the doorway for a moment, breathing in the scent of old paper and rotting ink. Usually he never had to go into that room; whatever paperwork that he did have that would go there he’d make someone else’s problem. Even then, he found himself searching, eyes scanning the labels on the boxes. Locations, names, dates, everything. Johnny caught onto his search, and watched him for a moment with careful eyes, but still refused to say anything.

“Aye, here we are,” Johnny sighed as he flipped the lid off of one of the boxes. He unceremoniously tossed the file into it before shutting it once again. “Right. Ready to get outta here?”

But when he turned to Simon, he saw the man’s attention was caught by one of the boxes. Salthouse | 8, December. The lid was already opened, and Simon stared blankly into it as if he wasn’t sure where to start.

“Ghost?” Johnny said softly.

Simon’s hands dove into the box decisively where his fingers grabbed onto a small, orange envelope. There was a slight thickness to it, like something had to be shoved in there to fit properly, or too many things had been stacked and folded on top of one another. He wasted no time undoing the brass clasp at the top and pouring the contents into his hand.

A plastic bag full of Polaroids tumbled out of the envelope, and Simon and Johnny were met with the image of your face. Beaten, irritated, and bloody, it was a different image than what they had seen last time, like whoever had collected it shuffled through the images in morbid curiosity. You laid on the ground on your back, no hand gripping your face, but still very obviously out of it. Passed out, probably, or at least on the verge of consciousness.

He wasn’t prepared for the anger that bubbled up inside of him upon setting eyes on those images again. So many regrets, things that he should have done differently. He should have been stronger, faster, deadlier. Should have made Bukin and Adakskin pay for everything they had done to you with more than just a bullet to the head. Should have ripped up that picture of you the moment he got the chance.

“Simon,” Johnny said again. It was rare that the man ever used his lieutenants real name, but it left him before he was able to stop it.

Ignoring him, Simon tossed the orange envelope back into the box before ripping open the plastic bag, nearly scattering the photos all over the ground. He gathered them up into his hands before marching off towards the back of the room, boots hitting heavy against the floor.

“What’re you doing?” Johnny asked, voice a bit more firm.

“No one needs to see these,” Simon responded within an instant. “Everyone knows what happened to her. No one needs to see her like this.”

He approached the shredder that sat against the back wall of the room. It was a large thing, made for shredding stacks of paper all at once with teeth that could eat an entire hand within an instant. A few Polaroids wouldn’t be an issue at all. The thing was, Johnny couldn’t even argue with Simon, because he felt the exact same way. So he stood there and watched as Simon powered on the shredder, gears whirring and whining.

Without remorse, Simon tossed the photos into the shredder and watched as the metal tore them to shreds with ease. Plastic crinkled and cracked until they were all eaten up and spat out into the bag that stored all the other scraps it had thrown up. The thing was, Simon was never very good at fixing things. No matter how hard he tried to be, he always ended up breaking things. His mother’s vase or a man's arm. He could pull a trigger and end someone’s life and yet he felt something convulsing inside of him at the thought of opening himself to you.

But this? This felt right. Destroying those pictures. There was enough evidence on your body and in your mind as it was. He tried so hard to be something else, anything else; but in the end, Simon was a brutal man whose hands were only capable of violence; might as well put them to good use.

tags: @ghostlythots @archonsabyss @crowbird @beware-my-thorns @koko-1025 @nessaasstuff @escapefromrealitysm @babygirl-riley @theloneshadow24 @ashableketchup @violet-19999 @paigetaylor628 @curlygirls-world @gaebestie @datlilwrench @ryisghost @suffering-and-happy-about-it @achelois-is-here

find my taglist here

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soft spot #f!reader

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dirtybitfic · 2 months

Text

Therapy pt.3

Matt sturniolo x y/n / fem reader

Smutt, kinks, dom matt, punishments, a lot of crazy shit to do with the kinks discussed in the two therapy sessions. Lots of dirty shit honestly too much to put in the warning so … 🫦

Matts pov-

Im so worked up right now. After her saying she likes a challenge I just could not handle it anymore. I know its not appropriate to have sex with a client but fuck me with y/n I just cant control myself.

Since the first session she's been running through my mind. She is absolutely beautiful for one and the kinks she has are music to my ears whenever she reads them off. Ive had multiple dreams about the nasty depraved things I want to do to her and after tonight I don't know if we’ll be able to go back to just a therapist client relationship.

I see the way she looks at me when she thinks im not paying attention and fuck the way she bites her lip nervously after reading her kinks is so hot to me. She is such a dirty girl but hides it all under this sweet innocent persona and it drives me wild. I want to see her brake for me ... hear her begging me to let her cum and watching her unravel over and over until she's crying and begging for me to stop.

Tonight I will finally get what ive always wanted and the best part is I know she’ll let me . I don't think she caught it but when she described her type in our first session she pretty much described me perfectly. The tattoos , dark hair , blue eyes, a dark mysterious persona and not too mention her size kink.

Y/n is not super short but compared to me she looks so small and it drives me wild anytime she looks up at me when I stand in front of her . She constantly has bedroom eyes and thats one feature I love on her gorgeous little face . Im 6'4 and she's probably around 5'7 so as you can imagine the height difference is a good amount . (Ik this man’s is a cool 5’8 but we gonna act like he ain’t alright)

As she sits next to me in the car I cant help but watch her as her thighs squeeze tightly together and her breathing is slightly fast. I wonder what her gorgeous little mind is thinking knowing im taking her back home with me. I know she was tipsy when she said those words to me but drunk words are sober thoughts and im so glad she finally made it clear she is also attracted to me .

These 15 minutes need to go bye quick ... because once I get her inside this damn house she in for a very long night.

Your pov-

Your going crazy in his passenger seat your mind is running wild with possibility’s of what is going to happen.

The thought of him above me with his hand around my neck as he fucks into you so hard your crying is on a non stop loop in your mind you’ve been clenching your thighs for so long they are cramping . You’ve tried to think about anything else but every time you try every thought turns into him again. He's consuming your mind and you cant wait for him to consume every other part of you.

The fact he is in a high class b.d.s.m club also tells you a lot . All the men there are dominants of high power and class . Your mind wanders back to the two men Matt had introduced you to and honestly you feel bad that they will probably never hear from you but now that you know you can have Matt you don't even want to look at them again.

You were sonly entertaining them just incase u had to settle for the next best choice but you know Matt is going to ruin you tonight and after this there is no going back and you pray this car ride is almost over.

How much longer do we have

About 10 more minutes ... why

I just really have to pee this isn't a lie I do have to pee but we all know the real reason I wanted to know

don't worry were almost there

he sets his hand on your thigh causing your breathe to hitch , even the smallest touch from his hand has your pussy clenching and pulsing. he rubs small circles with his thumb causing you to let out a soft sigh but it came out more like a moan.

you don't try to cover it up you just keep looking out the window as the trees pass by and you finally pull up to a large black gate.

It opens when he presses a button and he slowly makes his way up the very long windy road leading up to what you can only guess is the house.

There are lights lining the road every few feet and there are old looking willow trees scattered along the sides . It's beautiful yet creepy at the same time.

The car come to a stop and you look through the front windshield at a beautiful modern gothic mansion

Wow Matt your house is just ... wow

Thank you me and my brothers have a love for gothic style architecture

god you drive my dream car and live in my dream house could you be more perfect

he laughs softly Well if you like the outside you’ll love the inside come on

you smile at him as you rush out of the car excited to see the interior of his gorgeous home

he gets out locking the car and taking your hand in his as he leads you to the front door and unlocks it letting you enter first .

you walk into the most breathe taking foyer.

Holy fuck you look around already involve with the house and this is only the entrance

im guessing you like it

LOVE it

he smiles and chuckles

wait till you see the victorian greenhouse in the back he says smiling at you leading you into the living room

God this house keeps getting better and better you say as you take in the dark interior of the living room.

I think your gonna love the kitchen come on he says leading you down a dark emerald green hallways into a large kitchen.

You're right I do love it . You guys love dark colors huh

yeah I guess so he says looking around actually realizing most of the house is black with dark accent colors.

I like it a lot even though its dark it doesn't feel depressing

yeah I agree . Okay time for the greenhouse

Oh . my .god this is beautiful . I have an entire Pinterest board for my dream house and i've always loved the idea of having a interior greenhouse but this is just beautiful you start walking around looking at all the flowers and plants they have growing around .

Yeah My brother nick loves this part of the house he actually does most of the planting and stuff

he has great taste in flowers night rider lilys are my favorite flower

He would talk your ear off for hours about all these flowers if he could

I would probably love that actually I mean this is just beautiful . Your lucky to have this in your house I hope you know that

oh I do trust me but lets go upstairs I wanna show you my favorite room

okay you say taking his hand as he leads you down another dark hallways leading to a spiral staircase .

As you reach the last step it enters into a large library

wow this is by far my favorite room

I knew you'd like it go up those stairs and look on the middle 3 shelves I think you'll like that section he says smirking

you take the staircase up and go to the shelves he told you too . You look at the books noticing they are all dark romance books . They are all hard covers and you trace them with your fingers landing on one in particular . Haunting Adeline by H.D Carlton your favorite book you've read by far.

Matt steps behind you placing his hands on your hips .

You read haunting Adeline?

multiple times . I love this book

is that what started your stalker fantasies

It didn't start it but it definitely made it 10 times worse

what did start them he asks as you traced over other books that you've read

Honestly from a young age I always had thought in my brain that someone was or could be watching me through my window . My childhood home had woods behind and around the right side so I was always paranoid someone was out there but I guess... as I grew up the idea became appealing instead of scary.

mmm you like the cat and mouse game don't you... he moves closer to you as his lips brush your earlobe you like feeling like prey being hunted by a large ... scary ... predator hmmm . Don't you ?

you moan at the feel of his hands on you and the dirty words he said too you

I asked you a question he says as one of his hands travels up to your neck gripping it and spinning you around .

Now answer it... he says in a deep husky voice

y-yes I like it

mm such a depraved little slut aren't you

you moan not knowing what to say

never being satisfied ... having to come to me he says as he steps closer making your back hit the wall of books and you have to arch your neck that his hand is still around to look up at him towering over you.(again were pretending that this man isn't 5'8 alright) Telling me all the dirty ... depraved things you crave

you moan.

im gonna give you everything you want ... and your gonna thank me over and over

Jesus Christ you moan as you feel the wetness pooling in your underwear and slightly dripping down your thigh. You've never been so aroused in your life and all you want to do is beg him to touch you

his hand that was on your hip travels under your dress and up your thigh as his long fingers reach the inner of your thigh he groans

Such a little slut . Your so turned on its running down your thigh and I haven't even touched you yet

you whine as his hand slowly inches closer to where you need hm most

your gonna have to wait... the house tour isn't over yet

oh fuck you you sigh out. You're so turned on its driving you crazy .

excuse me he says gripping your throat even tighter and grabbing your face with his other making you look at him. You whine as you feel your teeth pressing into your cheeks from his tight hold.

you might want to watch your tone with me he says staring intently in your eyes.

yes sir you bite back your words laced with attitude

he lets go of your face and yanks you by your hand after him.

You make your way into a long hallway with a couple doors on each side

He opens the first one and its a fairly large bathroom

nice bathroom okay next room

someone is eager huh he says as he leads you to the next door

this is my brother chris's room

oh nice

then he walks to the next door farther down the hall on the left

and this is my brother nicks room

do you all live on the same floor ?

no my room is on the basement level

oh ... why?

you'll see he says as he leads you to the last room.

this is chris's at home studio he says as you let go of his hand and walk around looking at all the equipment.

does he make music ?

Sometimes yeah but he's more into producing backtracks and beats and stuff

that so cool

yeah the man loves his music . Come on I wanna show you the backyard

he leads you out of the room and down another flight of stairs leading out to the backyard.

This is one of my favorite parts of the house

wow the pool is amazing

yeah its great. and its heated so you can use it all year round

damn thats nice

yeah its pretty great but come on I saved the best rooms for last

he leads you back inside the house and leads you down a dark flight of stairs to the basement level .

The stairs lead into another living room

wow its dark down here

yeah I like it dark it feels ... cozy to me

mmm you hum as you look at the dark blue couch and the nice fire place behind it.

he leads you down another long hallway to the room at the end.

This is my room he says before opening the door

mmm its dark but cozy I like it

and that is my closet over there and this is my bathroom

mm its like your own apartment down here

yeah I love my brothers a lot but I like to have my own space

I get that , do you mind if I use the bathroom real quick

not at all go ahead he says as you swiftly make your way into the bathroom closing the door behind you. You had been holding in your pee for the entire house tour.

you make your way to the toilet and finally relieve yourself with a sigh. As you sit you look around the large bathroom noticing the nice ass shower. Your mind wanders to things you'd love to do with him in that shower.

You finish up and wash your hands and make your way back out into the room .

Matt is in the middle of taking off dress shirt and you cant help but watch the way his back muscles tense as he pulls in off and sets it in a laundry hamper.

he pulls on a black sweatshirt he must have changed into his sweatpants while you were in the bathroom .

He turns around noticing you .

Feel better

yes much better. I held it in for a while

he chuckles and then walks closer to you as he bends down and lifts one of your feet you balance yourself by placing a hand on his shoulder. He takes of your heel and then the other.

You sigh feeling so much more comfortable .

Go into my closet and grab a sweatshirt I know you probably want to get out of that dress

as you make your way to the closet he slaps your ass causing you to gasp.

you smile as you make your way into the large walk in closet and finding a line of sweatshirt hung on the top rack .

you grab a grey sweatshirt and start undoing your dress as it slips off . You weren't wearing a bra under the dress so all you have under his large sweatshirt is your lace thong that is soaked with your arousal from earlier.

you walk back out and he smiles at you .

You look good in my sweatshirt

yeah its comfy too to say as you hold your arms out looking down .

its fits big on you since he's significantly taller than you.

I have a feeling I won't be getting it back anytime soon

yeahhh don't hold your breathe you say smiling back at him.

ready for the last room

mhm you smile knowing you're finally going to be getting what you want after this last room.

he leads you out of his room and down a small hall leading to a large door at the end .

I think you'll like this one he says with a smirk on his face.

he opens the door and turns on the light . Your mouth drops as you see what the room is.

A fucking sex dungeon

you walk around the room looking at all the whips and ropes that line the left wall. The right wall is adorned with blindfolds and other kind of restraints .

you still think you can handle me he says in your ear as he swiftly walks around you with his hand on your waist

you make eye contact nodding your head hoping hell finally touch you.

take the sweatshirt off he says sternly.

you slowly lift it over your head as your nipple immediately harden since this part of the house is cooler than the rest.

he groans at the sight of your bare body in front of him.

he slowly traces a hand down your face then neck and then he reaches your tits as he pulls on your nipples causing you to moan from the pain and pleasure.

he pulls on them harder making you gasp for air .

his hands move to your waist as he effortlessly picks you up and holds under your thighs to keep you up as you wrap your legs around his waist.

he brings his mouth to your neck biting and sucking leaving marks as you moan from the feeling.

you sound so beautiful he goes back into your neck leaving more marks.

your legs tighten around his waist as he bites down harshly on your shoulder

fuck you gasp as he lets go and kisses it softly

he sets you down and spins you around walking you over to the couch and bending you over the arm rest .

he bends down so his mouth is at your ear

I think you need to learn some manners hmm

you know that he's probably referring to the library when you coped an attitude with him .

all you do is shake your head yes

use your words y/n . he says in a harsh tone that has you pulsing around nothing.

yes you say sounding out of breathe .

yes what ...

yes sir

good girl

you hear him walk away but stay where he put you .

you hear him step back behind you and feel something cold run along your left ass cheek . You lay there waiting for what he's going to do .

Something slaps down on your cheek causing you to gasp . It didn't hurt but it definitely would leave a mark if he smacks harder.

you know what this is ? he asks seeing if you'll guess correctly

ummm I don't know

he smacks down the object again with more force causing your hips to buck harshly into the arm rest.

take a guess and maybe ill go easy on you

fuck umm I... a crop wip

he smacks down on your other cheek

such a smart girl

you moan at his praise as he smacks down again.

he tosses it on the couch and grabs you to stand up by your hair causing you to whine.

You have no idea what I want to do to you right now

you let out a quiet moan .

Please . Do anything you want .use me

yeah you want me to treat you like the dirty little slut you are his tone making it evident he's smirking.

yes... fuck please

he lets go of your hair and walks over to the wall of blindfolds picking up a blue satin one and walking back over to you .

turn around he says as he stands in front of you .

You do as he says and he ties it around your eyes and nots it at the back securing it tightly .

you run your hands over the silky cool material smiling .

he guides you by your waist until he pushes you down to sit on the edge of the couch your back arching into the back of the couch.

his hands move up and down your sides until he reaches your panty lines and pulls them down your legs slowly .

spread your legs for me show me how much of a mess i've made you

you spread your legs and he groans

such a pretty little pussy he says before placing soft wet kisses on your inner thighs causing you to squirm in anticipation.

his breathe hits your sensitive clit and your hips buck . You want him to finally touch you so badly you just cant help yourself .

he places a soft kiss on your clit causing you to moan .

fuck... please

tell me what you want

please I need your mouth so bad

mmm he groans before diving into your pussy as he licks and sucks .Fuck he's good at this . Your breathing is erratic as you squirm under him .

oh- my god fuck

yeah ... am I making you feel good he says before going back to sucking your clit

yes fuck so good you moan out . He starts flicking his tongue in the perfect spot that has your legs trembling.

Oh FUCK oh my god right there

he smirks against your pussy as he inserts a finger inside your gushing entrance eliciting a loud moan from you.

Oh my god fuck im so close

Cum for me sweetheart cover my mouth with it

his words immediately send you tumbling over the edge as your legs tremble and you're gasping for air .

such a good girl for me he says as you come down from your high and he pulls his finger out of you .

your catching your breathe as he licks his fingers clean.

such a sweet little pussy he groans .

get up he says in a raspy tone you immediately obey standing up and waiting for more instruction.

he walks over to the wall of restraints and ropes he picks a set and walks back over to you .He pulls off the blindfold and throws it down.

you blink adjusting to the lights then looking down at what's in his hand.

you smile and he notices.

come on he says making you walk in front of him .

he watches the way your ass moves when you walk making him even more painfully hard than he already is.

you make it back in his room and he shuts the door harshly then grabs you buy the back of the neck.

hands behind your back

you hold them behind your back and he puts the wrist restrains on securing them enough they won't slip off but not tight enough to hurt.

walk to the end of the bed

You walk slowly to the end of the bed as he trails closely behind.One you reach the end he moves your hair and tells you to hold it . He then secures the neck piece of the restraints. It holds your head at and angle that is slightly uncomfortable but you enjoy it.

He pulls his sweatshirt off and he spins you around to face him.

You look so beautiful all restrained for me

you smile up at him as your eyes trail his upper body the best they can with the restraints .

he pushes your shoulders down as he makes you sit on the edge of the bed.

he slowly unties the string of his sweatpants and slides them down and kicks them off.

Your gonna be a good girl and let me fuck that pretty little mouth

you moan in agreement.

his bulge is right in front of your face causing you to gulp. He is definitely not small and that makes you slightly nervous.

He starts pulling down his boxers causing his rock hard dick to pop out and slap you on the face. You jump not expecting it which makes him chuckle.

Open .

you open your mouth and he shoves his middle and ring finger into your mouth you gag slightly as they hit the back of your mouth and your eyes water.

mmm were gonna need to work on that he says as you gag on his finger the farther he pushes back.

He pulls them out and strokes his long thick length a couple times before looking down at you smirking.

he taps his dick on your lips telling you to open your mouth .

The second you open your mouth he slides into it and slowly thrusts in and out . His girth has the corners of your mouth stretching and your jaw hurts from how wide you have to keep your mouth open .

he grabs the back of your head and starts thrusting hard and fast. You're gagging and coughing around him causing him to groan .

Fuck look at you drooling and gagging . Such a fucking mess for me

you moan around him as tears roll down your face and spit is dripping out of the sides of your mouth and down your chin and neck. His thrust get harder his tip bruising your throat with each thrust. You're crying as your eyes get foggy from your mascara bleeding into them. You're gagging loudly as he goes deeper down your throat.

You try moving your hand to his thighs only to remember they are secured behind your back. So you try the next best thing and start trying to inch further up the bed and away from him which only seems to make him thrust more aggressively.

nahuh don't try and get away ... you said you'd be a good girl for me he grunts out horsly as his breathing is loud and curses pour out of his mouth signaling he's close.

I'm gonna fill this pretty little mouth and your gonna swallow all of it you understand he groans out as you nod your head the best you can .

he harshly thrusts a couple more times before burying himself as deep as he can go and fills your throat and mouth with his cum. He pulls out and slaps his hand over your mouth.

You better fucking swallow it. he says in a harsh tone that has your pussy gushing.

you swallow down the thick liquid furrowing your brows from the weird texture. He takes his hand off your mouth .

good girl listening so well he says before gently stroking your lips with his thumb. You hum at the soft touch and lean into it.

stand up you immediately stand up and look up at him with teary bedroom eyes.

he spins you around and bends you over the side of the bed .

He runs his hand down your back and grabs onto the chain connected to the back of the collar pulling your head back so you're looking at him. You whimper at the way the collar part tightens with the angle.

You want me to fuck you dumb he asks with a cocky smile on his face.

you nod and he slaps you on the ass with his free hand.

Use your fucking words when I ask you a question

y-yes I want you to fuck me

tell me how bad you want it ... beg for it he says making the chain a bit tighter in his hand.

p-please I want it so bad please your voice coming out broken and raspy.

mmm beg louder i wanna hear the desperation int that pretty little voice of yours

please Please fuck me I want it so bad PLEAse

mmm you sound so pretty when you beg he says as he lets go of the chain and your head falls onto the mattress .

his hand runs further down your ass to your throbbing core.

he slides a finger in causing you to whimper .

Fuck you're so wet. You like having my dick down your throat don't you

you moan in agreement causing him to slap your ass hard.

don't you he says deeply .

y-yes I love it

such a little slut he says as he adds another finger and starts moving them in and out at a pace that has your toes curling.

f-fuck oh my-

yeah you like my fingers

y-yes sir f-fuck I love them

he groans at you calling him sir and he speeds up his fingers curling them to hit the perfect spot that has your legs starting to tremble and your orgasm building at a fast pace.

oh- fuck I-im gonna cum

not until you beg for it

f-fuck oh god

don't even think about cumming without my permission he says slapping your ass as you loudly moan into the mattress.

F-fuck please can I cum fuck please please

hold it

b-but your breathing so hard as you try on focus on not cumming.

I know you can do it

fuck I- cant please let me cum fuck please

no your gonna hold it until I say you can cum

you whine in protest as your eyes swell with tears and your legs are shaking as your hands ball into fists

f-fuck I c-cant you cry out as it starts to get painful holding it back

yes you fucking can his pace gets faster and you break not being able to hold it anymore.

did you just fucking cum after I told you not too

you orgasm so hard around his fingers you don't even care he's angry you couldn't follow directions.

I t-told you I could hold it

he pulls you up by the chain causing you to gasp and cry out from the force.

he sits down and throws you over his knees.

you are going to learn to follow directions

you whine knowing he's about to make you regret that last orgasm.

his hand comes down on your ass causing you to whine

your gonna take as many spankings as I see fit and your gonna thank me for every single one

his hand comes down harshly causing your ass to sting

f-fuck thank you sir

his hand comes down on the same spot at least 15 times before you're crying and begging him to stop .

m-matt please it hurts you cry out as his hand comes down again.

im sorry who his hands come down at a fast pace hitting your stinging red cheek at least 5 times.

OW F-fuck sir please I- cant t-take anymore please im sorry I won't do it again

he rubs his hand softly over your red and raised ass cheek admiring his large hand print that is now imprinted in the skin and tracing the blood vessels that burst around the print smiling to himself.

you think you learned your lesson he asks in a softer voice.

yes sir I promise I will listen from now on you sigh out . Your ass cheek is stinging so much and your breathing is erratic from crying.

he helps you stand up before he pushes you back over the edge of the bed again . His strokes. his rock hard dick a couple times before he runs the tip through your wet folds .

he slowly pushes in causing you to hiss from the stretch he's so big that you know no matter how slow he enters you it'll hurt.

ahh shit you whine out as he pushes a little deeper.

I know sweetheart you're doing so good for me he says running his hand down the small of your back trying to sooth you.

mmm you whine as he still pushes in .

You're doing so good . Only half more to go

Thats only half you loudly cry out . You already feel so full and you don't know how you're gonna handle all of it .

he chuckles at your reaction ad he pushes deeper and deeper .

fuck you're so fucking tight .

You whine and squirm as the stinging gets worse when his thickest part enters you .

Jesus c-christ your so big you cry out as you try and calm your breathing.

I know baby but you're almost there he groans as he pushed in until he is balls deep .

you cry out as he fills you up fully with his entire length staying still letting you adjust. You knew he was big but you dint expect him to stretch you this much but you also haven't had sex in a while so its not that shocking . You've also never taken a dick this big , he's a good 9 inches and girthy as fuck.

fuck okay you can move but please go slow

he starts to slowly thrust in and out as you continue to adjust .

mmm you whine as the pain fades into pleasure

feel good he says as as he speeds up the pace ever so slightly.

y-yes sir

he groans as you pulse around him .

can you handle it if I go faster he grunts out. The slow pace is not something he enjoys. He likes to be rough and hard but he doesn't want to hurt you.

yes fuck please go faster the second these words leave your moth he starts thrusting faster . Your gasping and moaning as he hits your g- spot over and over.

h-harder fuck please sir fuck me harder

god you're such a little slut he grunts as he starts going harder and your eyes rolls to the back of your head as you feel your orgasm building.

FUCK O-OH MY GOD Y-YOU'RE SO DEEP

Yeah you liked being fuck like a dirty whore

ye-yes I love it FUCK

I can feel you pulsing around me sweetheart . You gonna cum all over my cock like the good little whore you are

Y-YES SIR. FUCK CAN I CUM P-PLEASE

yeah cum all over my cock

FUCK you scream as you cum all over him and your legs tense and shake under him .

You come down from your high as he still pounds into you as your entire body trembles under him.

MMm f-fuck you pant out as he continues pounding into you relentlessly.

so fucking wet for me he groans out as he takes a hold of the chain and yanks your head back to look up at him. Your breathing becomes scattered as the collar cuts off your air way.

You feel how deep I am hmm

you furrow your brows in pleasure but maintain eye contact and nod your head as moans slip out of your mouth.

he lets go of the chain as your head drops down and you regain a normal breathing pattern. He grabs the small chain that connects the cuffs together and starts pounding into you deeper causing you to scream out.

AHH FUCK S-SO DEEP I C-CANT

mmm you can .he grabs you by your hair and lowers himself over you so he's right by your ear , and you fucking will

he lifts off of you continuing to thrust so hard and deep your legs lift off the ground and kick the back of his thighs.

MM j-jesus christ m-matt His movements stop and pulls yanking you up by your hair causing you to cry out from the burn .

he unhooks your hands and spins you around to face him as he rebooks them in front of you.

Lay down for me he says and you climb back onto the bed laying down.He climbs back onto the bed and settles in-between your legs as he pushes them apart as far as they go and he pushes back into you .

Fuck oh m-my god you whine as he thrusts roughly into you and your eye close as the pleasure runs through you.

he slaps you causing you to wince.

look at me while I fuck you dumb

your eyes open as you moan and shake under him..

oh f-fuck im g-gonna you cry out before juices spray out of you all over his dick.

Thats it squirt all over me .Fuck your doing so good for me

you whine as your legs start to shake and you start to feel overstimulated from all the other orgasm you've had.

F-fuck I c-cant take -I-it

he grips your face tightly as he brings his face closer to yours.

well your gonna have to. Im not nearly close to being done with you he says before he lifts your legs over his shoulders and starts thrusting rougher and deeper causing a bulge to show in your stomach.

FUCK d-daddy I he cuts you off by pushing down on your stomach feeling himself in you.

call me daddy again and you'll regret it he groans out.

y-yes sir im s-sorry

He pushes down harder on the bulge in your stomach causing you to scream out as you squirt again.

Fuck keep fucking doing that your so fucking hot

mmmm f-fuck you whine as tears start streaming down your face

your entire body is shaking from the overstimulation you're feeling.

FUCK I CANT PLEASE I ... you squirt again . He has to pull out from how much is coming out.

He pushes two fingers into you causing you to scream . He curls them and moves them so fast your entire body is rocking . He hits your spot over and over until your squirting again all over his fingers and the bed.

J-jesus christ its t-too much you cry out as you they to move his hand away but failing since they are connected to the chain that isn't long enough for you to reach him.

I guess ill just have to force you take it then huh he says before replacing his fingers with his dick and fucking you so rough your seeing stars and all you can do is moan and cry .

the tears are streaming down your face as shake under him.

who's pussy is this he asks as he thrusts into you at a new angle that takes your breathe away. You want to answer him but no words are coming out of your mouth.

He slaps you across the face two times before he grips it and makes you look at him.

Whos fucking pussy is this y/n

Y-YOURS ITS YOURS FUCK you scream out as you cum all over him

that's it such a good girl he groans as you shake under him .

His thrusts don't let up if anything he starts going harder.

You're crying as whining under him unable to get words or moans out all you can do I breathe hard.

Look at you . Fucking you dumb hmm he says with a cocky smirk .

mmmmm you whine and kind of cry out as you lift your hips from the bed trying to get away from him but he grabs your hips hitting you at a different angle that has you choking on air.

so pathetic trying to run away from me he says as he grips your hips so tight there will be bruises Tommorrow.

F-f-fuck you you cry out . You're so overstimulate it hurts .

he slaps you across the face then shoves his fingers into your mouth causing you to gag and couch as he presses down your tongue.

watch your fucking mouth he says as he pulls his fingers out of your mouth and starts rubbing circles on your clit as he continues pounding into you.

MMM N-NO I CANT I-C-CANT you scream out as you feel another painful orgasm building.

oh but you will he says as he feels you pulsing around him signaling your close.

F-FUCK MMMM you scream in a horse shaky voice as your orgasm all over him so hard your entire body shakes and lifts off the bed as he continues rubbing your clit until you come down from your high as your brain goes fuzzy and your vision blurs.

your body is exhausted and your non stop shaking as he continues thrusting into you.

Fuck you gonna let me fill this pussy with my cum hmm

y-yes p-please you whine knowing that he's close brings a smile to your face you don't know how much more you can take.

yeah such a little cum slut aren't you

mmm y-yes sir you moan as his thrust get sloppy .

f-fuck he groans as he fills you up .

you lay there trying to catch your breathe as he pulls out and pulls you up unlatching the collar and handcuffs . you let out a sigh and stretch your arms since they are locked up from the position they were forced into for so long.

You okay he asks smiling softly at you .

you look at him softly smiling before climbing into his lap and holding onto him .

mmhm just... tired you say smiling against his chest. He rubs your back softly as he holds you tight.

lets go get cleaned up hmm he coos in your ear.

mmhm you sigh into his chest but don't have the energy to move.

he stands up holding you as walks to the bathroom and sets you down on the toilet letting you pee as he starts the shower .

once you finish your business he picks you up and walks you both into the shower and under the water.

you sigh as the water runs over your exhausted body . He slowly sets you down but still holds you tight knowing your legs are not very stable right now. He grabs some body wash and doors it all over your body before rubbing it in and letting in rinse away . You wash his torso and then rubs it all over his back then he rinses it off.

You smile to yourself feeling so taken care of at the moment and it makes you happy .

what you smiling about he jokes as he smiles down at you.

nothing your just... I just feel taken care of thats all

aftercare is very important to me you know that

I know its just not something i'm used to so.. thank you

of course beautiful he says as he runs his hands through your wet hair and places a kiss on your forehead.

he turns off the water and helps you step out as he wraps the large towel around you and wraps his around his waist.

you both make your way back into his room after drying off most of the water . He grabs a shirt for you to throw on and he throws on some boxers and sweat shorts .

you okay ... hungry thirsty ?

yeah both actually

alright lets go to the kitchen i'll Make something

you make your way up the two flights of stairs to the main floor and walk through the halls to the kitchen.

what time is it you ask as you reach the kitchen

4 am a voice says from further in the kitchen making you yelp and jump in surprise .

matt laughs as he makes his way over to the fridge grabbing things out as you stand there clutching you chest trying to catch your breathe.

sorry sweetheart I didn't mean to scare you the other one says as he approaches you with a small chuckle.

no no its okay just wasn't expecting anyone to be in here.

im Chris he says offering a hand for you to shake .

y/n you say with a smile as you shake his hand.

ahhh so your y/n he says smirking and looking at matt

what's that supposed to mean you ask slightly confused.

oh nothing me and nick have just heard a lot about you over the past two weeks

Oh really you ask with a smile looking at matt who's rolling his eyes.

Mhmm he says winking at you causing you to blush.

what are you doing up anyway

Couldn't sleep . I was gonna go for a swim but then I got hungry he says walking over to the fridge and pulling out a water.

he looks over to you . Want a water

oh sure thank you

You walk over to the island and sit down in one of the chairs.watching as Matt cooks . Chris comes and sits next to you placing the water down in front of you.

so y/n what do you do for work?

im a stylist you say smiling at him

ah so thats why you always have good outfits.

you smile at him from the compliment

yeah I guess so

do you like it

yeah I love it most of the time

why most of the time

well I work with celebrity's a lot and some of them are complete assholes so you know

ahh yeah I get that some of them just act so entitled

right its ridiculous . Matt said your a music producer

yeah I am its pretty cool

I bet id love to be able to make my own music

Matt smiles at you as he admires the way you get along with his brother .

do you sing?

yeah a bit

you should totally record in my studio sometime

id love that but you know thats only if Matt keeps me around

Trust me I will Matt says smirking at you making you smile

well im gonna go for a swim and then probably go to bed .

bye it was nice to formally meet you

yeah you too he says as he walks away down the hall to the pool.

so you sing Matt says smiling

yeah not but only really to myself im kinda awkward when people watch me

well maybe one day I can get you too sing for me

mmm yeah maybe

he finishes plating up the chicken and potatoes he made and slides u a plate and some silverware across the island.

you immediately cut off a piece and take a bite as he wits for your reaction.

oh my god this is so good you say as you lean back in your chair with a smile .

im glad you like it he says smiling and coming to sit next to you.

this is another reason I love older guys

food..? he asks chuckling a little bit

no like you actually cooked me something not just fell asleep and left me to fend for myself

I mean its a pretty easy thing to do he says smiling and taking a bite of his food

yeah but guys my age just arent like you

well then im glad you found me

oh trust me me too you say with a smirk .

okayyy eat your food he says laughing

you laugh a little before finishing the meal he cooked .

that was so good thank you

of course

he gets up and puts the plates in the dishwasher before coming back over to you.

you know what im craving

hmm

desert he says with a wicked smile on his face...

part four coming since I feel like this one is already way too long and took me forever to finish.

💋

#spotify #matt sturniolo #smut #bd/sm daddy #fanfiction #dirty nasty

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